B eautiful Creatures was a surprising movie. I happened upon it by accident and was not expecting anything beyond mildly interesting. I do not follow most teen movies. Twilight was a yawn– The Hunger Games moderately engaging if you consider children murdering children to be entertainment, but this–this was an unexpected encounter.
I am not familiar with the series or the authors Margaret Stohl and Kami Garcia, in fact I had no idea the series existed at all beyond a movie that I had come across. It was obvious from the start that this story was a multilayered structure and I knew, even without being familiar with the work, that it was not going to do justice to the book. The concepts were too complicated, and some of the characters obviously not explored properly. It was no doubt, a huge task to translate to screen. Even so, the story left Twilight in the dust. The main characters were witty and intelligent, while their concerns were both real and unique.
The Romeo and Juliet aspect of the story was the usual hook for the intended audience and it was done with the correct amount of humour and angst. Starring Alden Ehrenreich and Alice Englert as the young lovers it also has an impressive list of supporting actors. Such as Jeremy Irons, Emmy Rosum to name a few.
The ending I found a little trivial, but considering the intended age of the audience it was probably acceptable. While I am not in a position to say if the movie has done justice to the story it has challenged me to find out.
8/10 Better than most.
Cake is just cake until it comes from a patisserie, then it elevates itself to something heavenly that cannot be ignored. It is difficult enough to concentrate on a schedule that is demanding without flooding yourself with sugar. After a luxurious éclair, I find myself wanting to sleep instead of work. For me, sugar is not beneficial to the creative process, yet somehow I am always under the influence. My work suffered, my fitness suffered and my brain became fuzzy.
Unfortunately, the worst and best thing that could happen did—when a patisserie opened up in the next suburb. The delight of fresh French bread, baguettes, brioche, almond croissant, milles feuilles was just too much and I started making daily trips. Luckily, they were only open three days a week or else I would soon have been unable to fit back into the car. After a few weeks, however, I realised that the visits to the shop of French delights had to be reined in and so now, I count down the days to my birthday when I am allowed to go back!
Sinister is yet again another almost ran in the horror stakes. I wonder if directors are so encased in the genre that they spend their time delivering the expected well used endings rather than providing an interesting take on the old man vs supernatural theme.
This story had an amazing start–Ethan Hawke a true crime writer moves with his wife Juliet Rylance and their family into a house where a crime was committed. Then he discovered something so horrible he became mesmerised by the evil.
What had me interested was the truly horrifying nature of his discovery and had the evil remained within the realms of the natural world it would have been scarier than any imagined presence. The horror aspect could have been addressed by the balance of sanity of the author. Is what he viewing real? Is it an illusion? Is he being targeted or is he the killer reviewing old murders? So many possibilities but instead, we are relegated to the usual bogeyman style ending. Truth is not only stranger but far scarier than fiction–shame these horror makers never seem to realise this.
7/10 It could have been but wasn’t
Tradies are a law unto themselves. They turn up whenever and then usually disappear a short time later because you require an x-cog and they only have a y-cog on them. Then they are gone for the rest of the day leaving you wonder if you will ever see that y-cog at all.
Their self-appointed arrival, departure and work times is a seamless arrogance that is tolerated because they have the expertise to return life from unbearable back to bearable. So like the vast majority of people who endured their “She’ll be right luv.” I usually ignored the erratic times, dirty work boots and bold requests for a cup of tea. However, this had to be stopped when they decided to encroach from my neighbour’s job to my front verandah. A tradie on your property is something you endure for the sake of the job, one confiscating your verandah for personal use is something else.
I was working in my office when a dull bark from Scharnelle let me know that all was not well in the living room and I came in expecting to find Jojo had stolen her teddy bear. Instead, to my surprise I notice there were strange heads bobbing about my verandah. Unlike my neighbour next door, my verandah is a large space that resonates emptiness, so I put an ornamental chair set to fill the area. It was one of those uncomfortable wrought iron affairs that no one in their right mind would sit on. Yet, two burly tradies were doing just that and eating their lunch to boot!
In the scheme of things two tradesmen eating their lunch on my front porch is not that important, but the fact they had another verandah to sit on–albeit minus a chair set–and several large trucks to sit in, I felt they did not require the services of my front yard–at least not without even an ask. So I decided to let them meet 60 kilos of French Mastiff and see if they wanted to stay.
I grabbed her by her collar as this would give the impression I was willing to let her go and opened the front door. Two very startled faces turned to watch me struggle with a huge mastiff as she tried to bolt towards them. Now, there are certain things about Scharnelle they had no hope of knowing. The first being that if I am there she will never attack–in fact she was straining to make friends. She had her paw stretched out in what looked like the beginning of a leap, which was in reality her asking for a scratch from her new friends. Then she decided to smile at them, this involved her showing her bottom teeth in a fearsome snarl that I called smiling as she did it whenever she wanted the crust of your toast.
The disturbed gentlemen quickly packed up their greasy lunch and retreated to their trucks with copious apologies. Scharnelle was disappointed she got no love and I was mildly satisfied by my faux threat to their discourtesy. Mind you, if this had been the back yard and they were alone with her–well that’s another story.