Justin Chang
👤 PersonAppearances Over Time
Podcast Appearances
He's played by a bumbling, scene-stealing David Harbour. In time, this ragtag crew began calling themselves the Thunderbolts, a name inspired by a youth soccer team that Yelena was a part of years ago. Like that team, Yelena and her unlikely comrades are a scrappy bunch of underperformers. basically a third-rate Avengers. The story is unapologetically formulaic.
He's played by a bumbling, scene-stealing David Harbour. In time, this ragtag crew began calling themselves the Thunderbolts, a name inspired by a youth soccer team that Yelena was a part of years ago. Like that team, Yelena and her unlikely comrades are a scrappy bunch of underperformers. basically a third-rate Avengers. The story is unapologetically formulaic.
He's played by a bumbling, scene-stealing David Harbour. In time, this ragtag crew began calling themselves the Thunderbolts, a name inspired by a youth soccer team that Yelena was a part of years ago. Like that team, Yelena and her unlikely comrades are a scrappy bunch of underperformers. basically a third-rate Avengers. The story is unapologetically formulaic.
Valentina's scheme, which involves turning the Thunderbolts into a public enemy, smacks a bit of Pixar's The Incredibles, and every other Marvel movie that has featured a cataclysmic assault on a major city. But even amid such familiar mayhem, Schreier finds fresh, vivid angles. The action is clear and coherent. The character dynamics strike the right balance of earnest sincerity and glib humor.
Valentina's scheme, which involves turning the Thunderbolts into a public enemy, smacks a bit of Pixar's The Incredibles, and every other Marvel movie that has featured a cataclysmic assault on a major city. But even amid such familiar mayhem, Schreier finds fresh, vivid angles. The action is clear and coherent. The character dynamics strike the right balance of earnest sincerity and glib humor.
Valentina's scheme, which involves turning the Thunderbolts into a public enemy, smacks a bit of Pixar's The Incredibles, and every other Marvel movie that has featured a cataclysmic assault on a major city. But even amid such familiar mayhem, Schreier finds fresh, vivid angles. The action is clear and coherent. The character dynamics strike the right balance of earnest sincerity and glib humor.
And it's oddly moving to see the characters put their bickering ways aside and team up to protect as many innocent bystanders as they can. For a brief moment, I was reminded of what made superhero movies fun in the first place, before they became Hollywood's dominant export. But Thunderbolts does have more than fun on its mind, and here's where that trauma element comes in.
And it's oddly moving to see the characters put their bickering ways aside and team up to protect as many innocent bystanders as they can. For a brief moment, I was reminded of what made superhero movies fun in the first place, before they became Hollywood's dominant export. But Thunderbolts does have more than fun on its mind, and here's where that trauma element comes in.
And it's oddly moving to see the characters put their bickering ways aside and team up to protect as many innocent bystanders as they can. For a brief moment, I was reminded of what made superhero movies fun in the first place, before they became Hollywood's dominant export. But Thunderbolts does have more than fun on its mind, and here's where that trauma element comes in.
Yelena is continually haunted by reminders of her past – when she was forced as a child to become a ruthless killing machine. But she isn't the only character here confronting emotional pain and a profound sense of emptiness. The movie builds to a surreal sequence, an almost being-John-Malkovich-style romp through the subconscious, that floats some fascinating questions.
Yelena is continually haunted by reminders of her past – when she was forced as a child to become a ruthless killing machine. But she isn't the only character here confronting emotional pain and a profound sense of emptiness. The movie builds to a surreal sequence, an almost being-John-Malkovich-style romp through the subconscious, that floats some fascinating questions.
Yelena is continually haunted by reminders of her past – when she was forced as a child to become a ruthless killing machine. But she isn't the only character here confronting emotional pain and a profound sense of emptiness. The movie builds to a surreal sequence, an almost being-John-Malkovich-style romp through the subconscious, that floats some fascinating questions.
What if loneliness were the single most destructive force in existence? And what if human connection really was powerful enough to save the world? That may sound like a trite sentiment, but it's nonetheless worth repeating. And for two hours or so, Thunderbolts just about makes you believe it.
What if loneliness were the single most destructive force in existence? And what if human connection really was powerful enough to save the world? That may sound like a trite sentiment, but it's nonetheless worth repeating. And for two hours or so, Thunderbolts just about makes you believe it.
What if loneliness were the single most destructive force in existence? And what if human connection really was powerful enough to save the world? That may sound like a trite sentiment, but it's nonetheless worth repeating. And for two hours or so, Thunderbolts just about makes you believe it.
When The Shrouds premiered at film festivals last year, David Cronenberg described it as his most personal work. a deeply felt response to the death of his longtime wife from cancer in 2017. The movie is about a man named Karsh, who lost his wife, Rebecca, to cancer four years earlier. That's not the only similarity.
When The Shrouds premiered at film festivals last year, David Cronenberg described it as his most personal work. a deeply felt response to the death of his longtime wife from cancer in 2017. The movie is about a man named Karsh, who lost his wife, Rebecca, to cancer four years earlier. That's not the only similarity.
When The Shrouds premiered at film festivals last year, David Cronenberg described it as his most personal work. a deeply felt response to the death of his longtime wife from cancer in 2017. The movie is about a man named Karsh, who lost his wife, Rebecca, to cancer four years earlier. That's not the only similarity.
If you know what Cronenberg looks like, you'll see that Karsh, played by Vincent Cassel with a silvery shock of hair, resembles the director. Maybe not a dead ringer, but close enough to give you a chill and a bit of a chuckle. That's the thing about the shrouds. It's deeply morbid and sad, but it's also disarmingly funny.
If you know what Cronenberg looks like, you'll see that Karsh, played by Vincent Cassel with a silvery shock of hair, resembles the director. Maybe not a dead ringer, but close enough to give you a chill and a bit of a chuckle. That's the thing about the shrouds. It's deeply morbid and sad, but it's also disarmingly funny.