Review & Free Watch Movie Online

Showing posts with label Sci-Fi Movie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sci-Fi Movie. Show all posts

Friday, 2 October 2015

The Martian Watch Movie Online

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The Matian Watch Movie Online
The Matian
"The Martian," Ridley Scott's story of an astronaut struggling to survive by himself on a desolate planet, is at heart a shipwreck story, one that just happens to take the form of a science fiction adventure. But although the outline offers no surprises, the details and the tone feel new.
Like all the variants of "Robinson Crusoe"—including "Cast Away" and, of course, "Robinson Crusoe on Mars"—this film is about a man, Matt Damon's Mark Watney, who summons all of his ingenuity and courage to endure a seemingly impossible situation, then must deal with intense loneliness on top of it all. If you've ever seen a film, you know going in that things are going to turn out fine for Mark in the end—that no studio is going to pay for a special effects driven epic about a smart, likable castaway who dies horribly in the last five minutes. You also know that, despite the Lone Man Against Nature plot line, there's a reason why the filmmakers cast Oscar nominee Jessica Chastain as the captain of the mission that's forced to abort its exploration of the planet's surface after a sudden storm and leave Mark for dead—and it wasn't so that she could turn tail and head for Earth with her crew in the first ten minutes and never go back to the red planet. You also know that, despite the heated discussions back on earth of how risky, time consuming and expensive a rescue mission would be, NASA will still have to stage one, and that any bureaucratic objections (mainly by Jeff Daniels' character, the agency's director) will be washed away in the name of doing what's right. Since what will happen is never in question, all that remains is "how."

 The Martian Watch Movie Online


Fortunately, the hows are cleverly envisioned by Scott and screenwriter Drew Goddard (who penned "The Cabin in the Woods" and many episodes of ABC's castaway drama "Lost"), with thoughtful attention paid to basic questions like, "What do you do if the face plate of your helmet cracks?" and "How do you create a food supply on a planet that can't sustain plant life?" The short answers to those questions are, respectively, "apply duct tape" and "grow potatoes in a makeshift greenhouse fertilized with the solid waste left behind by the rest of the crew." Throughout the course of this long but never dull film, Mark makes for an affable and centered lead character—a wisecracking botanist who talks constantly to himself (and by extension the audience) in video diary entries, and sees each new crisis as a problem solving exercise, provided he can get his fear and despair under control long enough to think straight, which of course he does.
I'm making it sound as though "The Martian" is predictable. It is, but that doesn't hurt its effectiveness. The most fascinating thing about the film is how it leans into predictability rather than make a show of fighting it. In the process, comes up with a specific tone that I don't believe anyone has summoned in this genre, certainly not at this budget level. Of all the stories you've seen about astronauts coping with the aftermath of disaster—including "Mission to Mars" and the visually superior and more aggressively melodramatic "Gravity," which is more of a self-help parable with  religious overtones—"The Martian" is the most relaxed and funny, and maybe the warmest. Strangely like "Alien," Scott's breakthrough 1979 thriller, and maybe his follow-up "Blade Runner" as well, "The Martian" makes the future look at once spectacular and mundane. For all its splendors, the world that enfolds the characters is simply reality: the time and space in which they happen to be living.
At times it seems as if the movie's greatest artistic inspiration is not any particular previous film or novel, but the second act of "2001: A Space Odyssey," which features endearing throwaway images of Dr. Heywood Floyd anxiously reading the instructions on a zero gravity toilet, and sleeping on a Pan Am flight to an orbital space station like a businessman taking the red eye from Los Angeles to New York. Much of the film's soundtrack consists, hilariously, of disco, the only music available to Mark (via his captain's abandoned laptop). The juxtapositions of Scott's panoramic red-brown landscapes, Damon's grimy, stubbly face, and 1970s dance floor classics like "Turn the Beat Around," "Hot Stuff" and "Rock the Boat" are sublime. They make Mark's predicament seem like an elevated version of a tedious but necessary task, like tiling a roof or repainting a garage. Hard work always seems to go faster when you put some tunes on.
"The Martian" occasionally plays like an unscripted TV show about a man stranded on another planet. There's a touch of "How to" in the way Scott and Goddard tell the story. As Mark talks to himself, he walks us through his processes, showing how, for instance, he liquefies dried-out waste and mixes it into arid Martian soil, then inserts halved potatoes into crop furrows and waits for a sprig of green to appear. Cost-benefit analysis constantly comes into play, as when Mark drives several hundred kilometers in a rover to dig up tech left over from another Mars mission, and has to decide whether to turn off the heat in the cockpit to save power during the long journey (he decides against it, because even though the heater eats up juice, he can't function if his nether regions are frozen).
Chiwetel Ejiofor's Dr. Vincent Kapoor, the head of NASA’s Mars missions, wants to bring Mark home out of a sense of honor and obligation, and all of the other characters—including Chastain's Capt. Melissa Lewis, Daniels' Teddy Sanders, and Teddy's morally indignant right hand man, Mitch Henderson (played by Sean Bean, the ideal actor to play a man of conscience)—are basically on the same page; it's not a question of whether everyone wants to do the crowd-pleasing and heroic thing, but whether it's possible. It takes quite a while just to get a radio message to Mars and back, and you can't just send a spacecraft there like you're overnight-mailing a birthday gift. The mission has to be paid for and prepped, and that can take months or years. At one point the NASA people discuss whether to skip safety inspections on an unmanned flight in order to make a particular calendar window.
Through it all, people keep acting like people. They say impulsive, even thoughtless things, and then have to apologize. They crack jokes. The NASA technicians, scientists and managers hold press conferences and work through equations on wiper boards and worry about money and fuel and safety issues, but for the most part they talk to each other without hysteria, and some of the exchanges verge on workplace comedy. So much of Scott's reputation rests on his ability to conceive and execute elegant images, often in service of grim stories, that it's easy to forget how good he is at characterization and light comedy (see "Thelma and Louise" and "Matchstick Men," among others). "The Martian" fuses these sides of his talent better than any film he's made. At its best, it has the serene assurance of a Howard Hawks buddy adventure in which no predicament is so dire that it can't still feature a bit of light humor.
The characterizations start out feeling a bit vague and flat, but deepen through the accumulation of little details. Even supporting players who show up for a scene or two have a life force, such as Donald Glover's Rich Purnell, a brilliant but eccentric young scientist who lives so deep inside his own head that he doesn't know the NASA director's name. One of the best scenes finds Kapoor and communications expert Mindy Park (Mackenzie Davis) interpreting the inflection of Mark's typed response to a radical scheme to rescue him: "Are you f-----g kidding me?" Kapoor hopes that Mark meant to indicate excitement at NASA's audacity, but deep down he knows that's probably not it.
The film's ecstatic peak is its most counter-intuitive sequence, a music montage near the climax that interrupts the flow of the rescue action to show the astronauts on Mark's old spaceship contacting their loved ones via satellite video: a husband shows his wife a record album that he bought for her birthday, and a father delights his kids by floating through the spaceship's interior in zero gravity, swallowing water globules like a porpoise going after minnows. Billions gather at the end to watch Mark's rescue live on TV, but at no point do we get the impression that all other drama has ceased while the human race frets over the astronaut's fate. For Mark it's life or death, but we infer that there are long stretches when the public has forgotten that he's stranded. The most significant recurring images in the film are closeups of sprigs sprouting from the potatoes that Mark buried in his greenhouse. Life goes on no matter what.

Monday, 28 September 2015

Tomorrowland Watch Movie Online

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Early in Brad Bird's science fiction adventure "Tomorrowland," there's a flashback to one of the film's heroes visiting the 1964 World's Fair as a child and sampling Walt Disney's "It's a Small World" ride, with its invasively cheerful music and shimmying puppets; suddenly it whisks the park visitor, a boy who came there with a homemade jet pack hoping to win an inventor's contest, into a utopian future full of Art Deco skyscrapers and monorails, and watches him fall and rise through soupy clouds, courtesy of his flame-spitting invention.
Thus does an actual theme park ride become a high-tech cinematic version of a theme park ride. The first ride is gentle, nostalgic and charming. The second is dazzling and intense—a masterpiece of choreography, editing, design, sound effects and music, plus a bit of chill-inducing dream logic: at one point, the boy falls while his jet pack plummets a few meters to his left, and to reach it, he kicks his arms and legs like a swimmer chasing a life preserver. "Tomorrowland" has many uncanny dream-logic moments like that one. They make the film worth seeing, even though it's better as an experience than as a story or a message, yet wants to be all three at once.

Tomorrowland Watch Movie Online


Tomorrowland Watch Movie Online
Tomorrowland
There's a plot of sorts, something about a teenage girl (Britt Robertson's Casey) seeking out a greying scientist (George Clooney's Frank Walker) who knows how to access the aforementioned future, where brilliant scientists and other special individuals have created a pristine new world in advance of this one's death. The boy in the World's Fair sequence, young Frank Walker (Thomas Robinson), is befriended by a freckle-faced young English girl named Athena (Raffey Cassidy) who has a secret that I won't reveal here, except to say that it helps the others wriggle free of seemingly inescapable jams.
There are fuzzy or stilted warnings, courtesy of co-writers Bird and Damon Lindelof ("Star Trek Into Darkness"), about the plight of extraordinary individuals in an ordinary world, and the price we'll eventually pay for despoiling the environment and demonizing science. Bird has been criticized for infusing "The Incredibles" and "Ratatouille" with simplistic and sometimes elitist-sounding statements about the privileges that should accrue to gifted people. He'll get raked over the coals again here, thanks to the future's "Atlas Shrugged"-style origin story: the world's great scientific minds decided they'd had enough of ignorance and apathy and made their own world that's part Shangri-La and part Emerald City of Oz, but functionally Noah's Ark.
The plot has a raggedy quality, often leaning on a squad of "Matrix"-like, passing-for-human assassins and composer Michael Giacchino's "Behold the magic!" score to gin up tension. At its worst, it raises basic creative questions that are a far cry from its philosophical and moral concerns: Is the heroine special because she truly has special qualities, or because the "You are the chosen one" thing lets Bird barrel through two hours without having to give Casey any traits besides spunk? Is it a problem, story-wise and message-wise, that Frank's chief antagonist (Hugh Laurie) makes more sense than the heroes who oppose him? Maybe Bird and company would have been better off heeding Frank's advice to Casey: "Must I explain everything to you? Can't you just be impressed and move on?"
But if you treat "Tomorrowland" mainly as an immense cinematic theme park that unveils a new "ride" every few minutes—just as Bird's last feature, "Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol" was mainly a series of action scenes—its weaker aspects won't be deal-breakers. In this sense, if in no other, Bird's latest owes more to "Metropolis," "Blade Runner," "Dark City," the first "Tron" and other works of top-shelf eye-candy than to most of the SF-and-fantasy-tinged franchise entries that modern studios churn out.
Bird conceives the entire picture as a series of clockwork suspense sequences involving laserguns, plasma bombs, hidden doors and gates and passageways and tunnels, vertigo-inducing climbs and falls, serpentine hover-trains, machines and structures that fold and unfold and split, and humans that might not be human. With the aid of a time-travel device that looks like a souvenir button, present-day panoramas vanish, disclosing landscapes in a "Jetsons" vein. There are jet packs, monorails, robots that clomp and clank, and zero-gravity swimming pools that are just puck-shaped masses of water hanging in midair. There are moments where people exist simultaneously in two time periods while walking, running, falling or driving, and a scene near the end that's so unabashedly sentimental, yet so emotionally complex and confounding, that I can honestly say I've never seen anything like it. 
The film is a personal work of art that seems born of stubborn passion. It's definitely not an assembly-line product, despite the way that some sequences evoke (deliberately, would seem) actual assembly lines. If it's a bit irritating or dull at times, it's because it seems clear that Bird knows why he's showing us these things, and what he hoped to achieve by visualizing them in this manner, but he and his co-writers (including co-scenarist Jeff Jensen) can't find a graceful way to communicate it.
No matter. The "message" of "Metropolis"—a parable of labor and capital which concludes that society needs the heart to mediate between the head and the hands—was a mess, too. Today it seems at once reductive and overreaching, basically Marxism Lite. But if you had to make a list of reasons why that film is still remembered, discussed, and raided for inspiration by films like Bird's, "message" wouldn't be on it. "Metropolis" is remembered because watching it is as close as many of us will get to being able to have another person's dream.

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