Got Elektra from Netflix yesterday. It was beautiful. Fantastic cinematography, amazing fight choreography, gorgeous imagery. Now if we’d only turned the volume off. This Eastern-influence thing on Hollywood is great and all, but why the hell are they also incorporating the fragmented, bizarre storytelling? Would it kill them to find a good writer? They can obviously afford top-notch fight directors and trainers! Sheesh. And where the hell was that movie set in? The architecture looked Japanese, except for the population, which was white . . . except for the yakuza assassins, of course. Glargh.
Fun, yes, but really crappy writing. Again.
So this isn’t a total gripe-fest post, fat skunk belly! Yes, Hobkin needs to go on a diet.
I’m really enjoying my experience as Tangent‘s Managing Editor, but right now my feelings about it can be summed up by:
It would be incredibly unprofessional to say anything more, so I won’t. But yeah.
Words: Two more passes on the folktale, did a lot of cutting, so much that I decided I needed another group of readers to eyeball it. I popped it up the Critters queue. Should go up next week.