Showing posts with label leftism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label leftism. Show all posts

Wednesday, 13 December 2017

Murder on the Orient Express (2017): PC Poirot and the Diversity Train of Tolerance




What is cinema in 2017? Okay, straight talking now, cinema in 2017, in western countries, and I’m talking that multiplex down the road, and the turdfests that they show, is 100% diversity programming, and when I say ‘diversity’ I mean anti-white, anti-male, anti-western propaganda, produced by liberals, directed by liberals, acted by liberals, for liberals.

Like the good little Globalists/Communists that they are, the world-view of the moviemakers is completely unambiguous, and very, very clear. Here how it goes:

Straight white men (the blonder the better) are the enemy, and so must be demonised at every opportunity. Masculine young ‘empowered’ females with black boyfriends are the future. Islam is a religion of peace. Christianity is evil, and lastly, and most importantly, nation states must be demolished, because nation states (white countries only, obviously) represent the white male patriarchy, of racist, sexist, Islamaphobic, intolerant, hateful, straight white men.

As a straight white man myself, the cinema therefore has nothing to offer me, other than lacerating self-hatred, and accusations of racism, sexism, and being a terrible person because of my politically inconvenient race and gender.

So, bearing all of this in mind, and not being particularly inclined towards self-hatred, I don’t go to the cinema, usually.

Oh dear, what happened to Poirot?
Last night I made an exception, because my mother wanted to see a movie, and so, because Tuesday nights are half price night, and because I wanted to make my mum happy, I decided to go. Was it as bad as I expected it to be? Was the movie full of social justice, and liberal virtue signalling about how not racist and sexist they all are? Were my assumptions confirmed?

Yes, of course they were. It’s a movie. It’s 2017. It’s what they do. To expect anything else would be unrealistic. You go to the cinema, and you know what you’re going to get.

Okay then, onto the movie, and it could have been any movie, but the one that I decided to see (because it was the movie my mum wanted to see) was called ‘Murder on the Orient Express.’ I know the plot, know the characters, know what happens, and I also know that they won’t be able to help themselves.

Kenneth Branagh is in charge, the director, and star, and as old Ken is a luvvie lefty (obviously) virtue signalling about tolerance and diversity is a certainty. There will be no surprises here. You are going to get a new ‘interpretation’ of the old story, and that new interpretation means social justice and ‘diversified’ characters (which is code-word for less white characters, obviously) so here we go, let’s see how far they go with it.

First off, Poirot doesn’t look like Poirot anymore. He’s got a ridiculous moustache, but not the right kind of ridiculous moustache. This moustache is grey, and bushy, and ostentatiously hipsterish. Kenneth’s Poirot isn’t a quirky little Belgium. He’s a domineering peacock hipster, constantly on the lookout for any small incident of non-PC intolerant behaviour. This ain’t Poirot. It’s lefty bore, daaaarling boy, wine sipping, Guardian reading, soyboy Kenneth. Hey Ken, how's Spacey doing? Oh, we can't talk about him anymore, can we?

I see director, not detective in the new Poirot. I see the Metrosexual City. I see the prat. I see the virtuously lonely white hipster, itechnology, a job in PR, advertising, transgender bathrooms, city-bubble consensus from the offices of an all-female, all white, diversity is our strength Huffington Post echo chamber of cat lady future loneliness. I see the city. The dead, meaningless, diversified, sniffing from the fumes of what once was great, ruined cityscapes of Europe, another movie that feeds from the glory of the past, farted out for the eight people in the cinema showing where I sat, the poison fumes of 2017, liberals, liberals, liberals.

From the cultural ruins of modern day Europe, our progressive movie scoots back to the 1930's with a pretentious Poirot solving a mysterious case involving a Jew, Muslim, and a Christian. Oh, religious conflict? A movie where real world issues are being explored honestly, and bravely? No, don’t be silly. This is a modern lefty movie. You already know who the bad guy is, don’t you?

So how are we going to navigate through the religious conflicts in Jerusalem, and find a convenient scapegoat that will leave all religions off the hook, and confirm (what we already know) that diversity is a strength after all? Easy, my friend. Pick the white man, any white man will do, blame him, it’s always him, that rotter. Religious conflict? Don’t be silly. Blame the WASP. All religions can co-exist, even in Jerusalem. In the modern toxic-city of liberal consensus, and trucks of peace, we all get along.

So, nothing religious going on here at all, let’s move on, it’s the white guy to blame, as it always is, and always will be, at least in cinema today, if not the real world, not that the two things have anything in common whatsoever.

From solving the Jerusalem issue, hipster Poirot jumps on-board the famous train (which is shot in perpetual darkness, thus wasting the impressive interiors that my mum was looking forward to seeing on the big screen) and the well-known plot unfolds, and unravels into predictable lefty tiresomeness.

Working class white male villain (the enemy of the left)
Johnny Depp is the villain, and he plays him as a rough and ready working-class man, the very kind of commoner so feared by hipster Ken and his darlings of the theatre. Middle-class, city-dwelling, university Marxists always fear the genuine working-classes, so to have working class Johnny playing the villain makes a lot of sense. This is the kind of man they really fear, in the real world, outside of their twitter block bubble of self-congratulatory virtue. This is the Donald Trump voter. This is the Brexiteer. This is the straight, white, working class man. This is their enemy. This is the man they want to murder, and this is the man they want to replace with ‘diversity.’

I suppose I should mention the black guy now, shouldn't I? Okay then. So there was a black guy in the movie. Did he appear in the original novel by Agatha Christie, I hear you ask. Of course he bloody well didn't, is the answer. So how is he going to be portrayed? How do you think? There’s nothing unpredictable here. He’s black, he’s in a movie, don’t worry, he’s not going to be the bad guy.

Nope the black guy is a brave, self-sacrificing, courageous, erudite, charming, wonderful man, and he’s as English as Winston Churchill. Oh, and he's race-mixing with the character played by Daisy Ridley, that boyish girl who’s doing the same race-mixing thing in the new social justice Star Wars franchise. Hey Daisy, how come so many of your on-screen relationships are with black guys, but in the real world you are dating a fellow white, English actor? Come on girl, think of the social justice message you are portraying in your roles, and commit to the bit in your real life, otherwise it might just look like you are the vehicle of a message that you don’t really believe in yourself.

Away from reality, and back on the lib-train, one of the characters addresses this race mixing directly, blending her white and red wine, and declaring virtuously, ‘I prefer Rosa anyway.’ The message is clear. You shall be blended, such is the way of the modern progressive left, where diversity means consensus, no white, no black, no colours at all, just blended neutral corporate friendly colours that have as much meaning as a Pepsi advert. Diversity compels you to agree. Ignore Muhammad Ali and his blue and red bird analogy.

You’re not racist, are you?

Daisy = Lib Director's Dream Girl (a progressive man in a dress)
And so I yawn, and start to notice that Poirot, with his non-Poirot look, isn’t acting like Poirot either. He’s looking at an old photograph of some simpering lass, and getting in touch with his emotions, doubting himself, and looking at the photograph, pleading for ghostly guidance from a girl not yet in her mid twenties. What is it with old liberal men and their belief that great wisdom resides in the minds of pretty white girls who have yet to experience anything of life at all? It’s weird, cucky, and silly, but I see it all the time. Here’s the truth. Pretty young girls are not exactly the font of great wisdom. Sorry Ken, but wisdom and pretty female faces don’t exactly align in the real world. I've met lots of pretty young girls, but a wise and pretty young girl? Nope, I’m yet to meet one, and though I live in hope, I’m not exactly holding my breath and waiting for one to show up.

With simpering cuck Poirot getting in touch with his feelings, the plot goes down the usual route, with a couple of dramatic scenes added to make it seem more interesting than it is, before a final denouement where the suspects are lined up on a last supper table. The hipster detective reveals who done it, and then proceeds to let the guilty parties get away with it, walking off to take on the next case with barely a care in the world.

Hang on, that’s not how it usually ends, is it? Nope, but this is a newer version, with a Poirot who is not Poirot, and added feelings, and a fog of relativism and nihilistic grey emptiness.

Right and wrong? Paying for your crime? Who cares? Rules, facts, law, morality, all dissipate in the liberal fog of feelings and getting in touch with the wisdom of a pretty feminine face. This is the brave new world of the progressive matriarchal welfare state, and the only thing that matters is how you feel, no morals, no order, no justice, just the feels, race-mixing, white-guilt, a hipster moustache, and the leftist establishment’s fear of the white, working-class man.

So, that’s it. My yearly visit to the cinema, one and done, that’s it for me. Will I be watching the new Star Wars movie with Daisy doing her race-mixing thing again? Nah, I think I’ll give that one a miss. She doesn't believe in it. Not really, not in the real world, and neither do I.

Thursday, 6 April 2017

Royals #1- A Message to Marvel Comics


STORY BY
ART BY
Jonboy Meyers
COLORS BY
Ryan Kinnaird
ReLEASE DATE
5TH APRIL 2017
PUBLISHER
Marvel Comics




‘We forgot the meaning of love’ drones the laughably juvenile dialogue, and off they go into space, a bunch of cutesy lesbians, trusting in some obviously villainous bloke who told them there’s a special ‘magic’ prize hidden at the end of the Care Bear rainbow in space.

And Marvel still doesn’t understand why readers are turning away from their books?

What exact readership demographic is Marvel looking to attract here? After reading Royals #1 I can only assume that it’s the pre-teen girls who are questioning their sexuality demographic, because there’s not a lot in this for anyone else, especially young boys. If I had read this book as a ten year old version of myself then I would have been 100% convinced that I had just accidentally read a girls comic book, and not a very good one either.

Okay Marvel, keep writing girly books where you try to convince everybody (including yourselves) that there’s no difference between the genders, but recognise that these comic books will only ever appeal to social justice warrior activists, and your sales will continue to decline. Do you really want to destroy yourselves with gender neutral love and feelings stories? All you are really doing here is whining that the world isn’t the way that you want it to be, and it’s getting a bit embarrassing.

Marvel, my old mate, it really is getting a bit silly now. You really need to stop with the leftist, race-gender-sexuality activism. The world that you are pushing for is a communistic world of perfect equality, where gender, race, politics, sexuality, religion, and everything else is merged into a creepy Borg collectivist whole of unquestioning love and acceptance. The world, the real world, can never, and will never be like that, and the more you try to achieve your impossible Marxist Nirvana, the worse that things will get for all of us.

Wake up Marvel. Take the red pill option that the rest of us are taking. We are forgiving people, and will look back at this period in your history when you got infiltrated by Marxist activists posing as writers, have a laugh at how silly it all was, and move on.

Get with the times Marvel. Recognise that the world is full of real diversity away from the Marxist deceptions of forced integration and mass immigration into western countries. Celebrate real diversity Marvel, real diversity away from the multicultural lies that are being rejected at the ballot box, in England, America and Europe.

Stop pretending that we are all the same Marvel. Reclaim national pride. America is great. Be proud of who you are. Stop pushing leftist victim groups as heroes. Stop hating on straight, white men. Fire the activist leftists who pose as writers. Get back to telling good stories, with recognisably masculine and feminine characters, who are defined by their actions, and not identity politics and how much of a ‘victim’ they are on the liberal scale of officially sanctioned oppressed groups.

You can do it Marvel. You were great before, and you can be great again. All it will take is a little red pill, a touch of courage, and the ability to recognise that you are walking towards a cliff, and it’s time to stop, change direction, and start walking back home. We are waiting here for you Marvel, we miss you Marvel, and we desperately want you back.


Rating for comic: 2/10 (A load of silly old, irrelevant pap) 

Tuesday, 17 January 2017

Rogue One: A Far-Right Review



Directed by: Gareth Edwards

Screenplay by: Chris Weitz & Tony Gilroy

Story by: John Knoll & Gary Whitta

Starring:
Felicity Jones
Diego Luna
Ben Mendelsohn
Forest Whitaker

Distributed by: Walt Disney Studios

Release Date: December 10, 2016 



Thirty-seven minutes into a movie that I refuse to pay for, here’s what I think. Loads of quips, trying so hard to be funny, getting a bit annoying now. The girl, she’s beating up all of the men, easily, white stormtroopers, something about male disposability going on here, unintentional, obviously, them being white, also unintentional, just how it goes, right?

Didn’t one of the writers say something on twatter about the cuckfest movie being about a team of multicultural heroes against white supremacy? I see that. I also see the lefts ridiculous framing of themselves as heroic rebels, against the evil empire of white male patriarchy, whilst being completely oblivious to the fact that the lefties have been destroying western civilisation in political, academic and media power hubs for decades now. How do you portray yourselves as the heroic ‘rebels’ when you are in charge of everything? I know, let’s go back in time and pretend that the mythological evil that is the ‘far-right’ is actually in power, not us.

'Hello, we are the patriarchy, how may we assist you?'
That’s what they are doing in the movies anyway, cough ‘A Force Asleepens,’ and in the real world you finally have something real to fight against. The rise of the real world evil empire, starts this Friday with the Trump inauguration ceremony, fear, fear, fear, safe spaces needed. Hey soft guys and girls (I know, no difference now, is there?) great news for you all, you get to play at being the rebels again, just like in this movies. Yay, call for the assassination of Trump on your twatter platforms. You are so heroic, so progressive and so rebellious, even though you are serving the agenda of totalitarian globalists.

Talking of tools, that female lead can’t act at all, how funny it is, not as funny as seeing her beat up all of the men who are three times her size, but still pretty funny nonetheless. You’d think they’d at least be able to find a skinny white girl with a vaguely ‘British’ accent that could act a bit. I guess not, how hard can it be? But hey, that’s leftists for you, they screw up everything. Enough with the writing, I need to get back to the movie. I’m not enjoying it by the way. So glad I didn’t pay Disney corp for this tosh. Okay, back in. I’ll let you know what I think in another thirty minutes or so.

Oh man, back already. Just seen Forest Whitaker ‘acting' with the little girl character and I couldn’t believe this was possible, but he’s actually chewing the scenery worse than she is, putting on a ridiculous Broken Matt Hardy accent in an attempt to be ‘crazy.’ It’s flipping hilarious, really, unintentionally hilarious. What happened to him? He used to be good, didn’t he? I have to get back. Broken Forest Whitaker is so bad he’s cucking awesome.

Multiculturalism to the rescue.
Ha ha ha, they’re just explaining the ‘flaw’ in the Death star, that old plot hole from the original movie. Quite lame, obviously, but they’re loading up the syrupy sentimentality in a hope to get away with it. It will work of course, the cucks watching this shite will lap it up. Oh and Peter Cushing looks like a CGI Peter Cushing, doesn’t sound like him either, sucks, but that’s how it is. As for the comedy relief robot that is getting rave reviews. Nah, bores me, much like the movie is already boring me now at the 48-minute mark. Germanic villains from a WW2 movie, cartoonishly evil, not real people, Hollywood being Hollywood again. Hi Israel. Not even one hour in and I’m bored, bored, bored.

Missing fathers, always missing fathers. Cuck Wars is a universe with missing fathers, says so much about the world we live in today. No fathers equals no resistance, genuine resistance, not lefty bullshit coming out of the foundation funded university system and bled into news/entertainment/culture with ambitious young careerists repeating their programming to get ahead. Get rid of dad and the children run to the globalist empire. That’s real world stuff now, important stuff. Get that and we have a chance, don’t and we might as well go the cinema and shovel multicultural popcorn into our brains.

65mins in and I’m so bored. I don’t care about any of these people, the acting is terrible and the villains are not believable. They must be reading my mind, because here comes a big battle scene, noise, explosions, special FX masking a boring movie, lifeless script, dull 2D characters. Is the dad dead? I don’t care.

Yep, he’s dead. The new message, die dad die, young girls are the future now. Well, is anybody surprised? That’s what Hollywood and the lefty globalists want, get rid of nationalistic dad, your children belong to us now. Only in your movies, losers. The real rebellion is well underway in 2017. Brexit, Trump, bitches. You cannot kill genuine masculine resistance with feminism and white knighting cucks. Ask Hillary, she’ll tell you, if she’s sober that is.

Here comes Darth Nostalgia, that breathing, the cucks are wetting themselves. Hang on, ten seconds in and even Vader is over-acting. What a joke it all is. And he departs, with a ‘choking’ pun. Man, what a suck-fest cuck-fest.

Broken Forest Whitaker says, 'I knew you would come.'
And now the little girl is lecturing a multicultural collective of brave rebel heroes with the wordly wisdom of a couple of years of adulthood. How old is she? She looks like she’s barely out of lefty government school. Oh and a woman is their dictator and none of them appear to mind that she has the final say on a huge decision that could end the lot of them. Well, we all know how the left love a dictator don’t we, so I guess they got that right at least.

Just over half an hour left, waiting for another big battle, don’t care about anything that is happening, time is slowing to a crawl, so glad I didn’t go the cinema and pay for this turd.

Oh man, the teenager is giving a leadership speech now to all of the blokes, what a joke, all of the men bowing to this great eight stone warrior girl with too much eye make-up and a wonky English accent that comes straight out of a Simpson’s cartoon. Is the actress a Brit? I think that she is. I guess that being driven to drama school in a Chelsea tractor for over a decade didn’t exactly give her much experience in the real world and her ‘I was like and she was like’ real life accent is probably not ‘English’ enough for the movie. Multiculturalism destroys hosts cultures. Talk to an English girl today, you’ll see. They sound like idiots, American idiots. Hey Green day. Fuck off Green day. Libtard drunks, back now after eight years of drinking, you are the tooliest tools of all the rock and roll tools.

Down go the whitey stormtroopers, yay multicultural heroes, death to whitey, look at whitey die. Fan service stuff, how long left? Twenty minutes? That’s too long, much too long. My brain is shrinking, my will to live….fading.

Gin Asshole? Is that her name? I like it. Finally, something that I like.

Worst marksmen like totally evvvveerrr.
The end is like the original movie, just without characters that I actually care about. Why can’t they write believable or likeable characters anymore? Comedy characters don't count. They're silly, childish and easy, hello Mr robot, you are supposed to be the best character in the movie, you, the comic relief. I agree with that commonly held opinion, your silliness is amusing and that’s all that the movie has, none of the other characters make any impact whatsoever. The robot is dying now and it’s a little bit sad, the life of the movie, metal comedy relief, is gone, the movie now limps to the conclusion.

Girl jumps first, man follows, of course, the message of the movie, just like all Disney movies. Strong independent women need no man, that role being taken by socialist/globalist government now.

Is he dead? Sacrificed his life for the girl? Don’t do that. Don’t be a white knight, don’t be a cuck. They wouldn’t do it for you. They run to government, betray you, betray their own people and invite in a real patriarchy. Do not self-sacrifice for government girls who will destroy western civilisation to feel good about themselves on twitter.

Much better than Jar Jar.
Oh, boyfriend is back to save the girl. Not dead, yet. Sucker. CGI Peter Cushing is back, over-acting as the real Peter Cushing would never do. Bang, are they all dead? I hope so. Hello, here’s Darth Nostalgia, staring menacingly. Oh, they are not dead yet, the dull couple. Please kill them Lord Nostalgia, just don’t talk, your accent is a bit wrong, like all of the accents in the movie actually.

Nostalgia Vader ain’t talking, chopping, best bit of the movie. He's kicking lefty rebel ass, blending into the original movie, that first bit when Darth makes his entrance and oh, here's Princess Leah.

‘What is it they sent us?’

‘Hope.’

END

Well we all know how that really ends don’t we. It ends with Obama's empty slogans, broken promises, drones, war, government dependency, SJW tantrums, failure, BLM, ISIS and Donald Trump coming in to sort out all of the damage that has been caused.

Movie reviews are supposed to end with a summary, a conclusion, but this here, this thing, was different, don’t you think? I didn’t pay for this movie and I’m glad that I didn’t. It was soft leftism, out of touch, nostalgia, fan service, comedy robot, feminism, dullness, multiculturalism versus white nationalism, the usual fare that you can expect from Hollywood for the next four years. Don’t go the cinema. It’s only going to get worse, hey Meryl?

Libtards have been in charge of everything for far too long and now we are living during the time of the real rebellion, a nationalist uprising against their globalist socialist evils. Cinema has to change, or it will die. Same story for television, academia, politics, literature, comic books, everything. Change, adapt or die, it’s evolution baby, the false god of libtards that is now biting them on the butts and how amusing it is indeed. I’m looking forward to Friday. Donald Trump, a new beginning, not just for America, but for the future of western civilisation. The era of empty, passive hope is dead. Hollywood is dying. The new era is of competence, hard work and individualism. To hope is to be passive. Don’t hope, don’t wait, get up, believe in yourself, create, work, do.


Rating for movie: 2/10 (For Darth Nostalgia getting choppy at the end and the comedy robot being an amusing antidote to the dullness that surrounded him/it)

Friday, 15 May 2015

Comic review: Rebels #2- In the Forrest with Mr. Wood



Writer: Brian Wood
Artist: Andrea Mutti
Colourist: Jordie Bellaire
Publisher: Image Comics
Released: 13th May 2015


The most note-worthy moment in Rebels #2 occurs after the story has finished, and writer Brian Wood engages with his readers in an essay about American flag waving.

I found that to be illuminating, because what it really is, is an attempt by Wood to convince his liberally minded readers that, don’t worry lads/lasses, I’m still one of you, I’m still a left leaning good guy.

That’s okay, I understand it, especially given his history where he has written books that have savaged the right wing types, putting all of the blame for the world’s ills (and imagined future ills) onto the racist, homophobic, intolerant right wingers.

The problem in 2015 for long-time liberal minded writers is that the paradigm of left versus right, or good versus evil is not quite as secure as it once appeared to be. Brian Wood then is like a lot of long-term leftists, negotiating within himself and trying to work out just what went wrong, why his ideological foundations are now looking a bit on the crumbly side.

I’ll leave that for him to figure out, and talk about Rebels #2 for a little bit now.

The book will probably read better in tpb, but that doesn’t mean that the single issues are not worth getting, because they are. It’s just that in this age of instant box-set access the month long wait can seem a bit prolonged, especially when a book is taking it’s time and telling a well structured fully rounded story.

This issue is about one guy, older than he looks, and I like that touch because it feels genuine, and how he is a new husband, and a revolutionary soldier, and how he manages to handle that balancing act. The story is told through his POV, and that has its pluses and minuses. The pluses being that it means you build up more emotional connectivity with the story because the bloke is talking directly to you, the minus' being that you know he’s never going to be taken out by a random red coat bullet because then who would be telling the story?

You lose some tension with this story-telling technique, but you gain bucket loads of empathy as his nearest and dearest will inevitably pay a huge price for what he is engaged in. I can live with that, and I like the slow pace of the book, despite what I said earlier in the review, it works well, because life isn’t all fast, all action, there’s lots of slow bits in it as well.

The key to the story is making it seem real, and the art is a big plus here. There’s a grit and darkness to certain panels, then bright white to signify the freshness of a day in the countryside. The people look like real people, there is spittle in their mouths, there’s no big muscles here, and I really enjoyed the dramatic splashes of colour during the action scenes as well. 

I have some good news for left leaning comic book fans, and let’s face it, that’s probably about 90% of the comic book reading audience of today. Brian Wood is no right wing gun nut, and you don’t have to feel bad about reading his book. He’s hanging, doggedly onto the left, but I do feel that his grip is loosening, and in that sense he’s no different to any other long time hope and change boyhood Marxist type. He’s got a good book here in Rebels #2, and I’ll continue to read along, not just to see where the story goes, but to follow the journey of Mr Wood as well.


Rating: 8/10