Alexander Skarsgård
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Fan photos of Alex in Japan (June 12, 2016):
https://twitter.com/pooonnn_n/status/741929175427076096
https://twitter.com/pooonnn_n/status/741938982842310657
https://twitter.com/pooonnn_n/status/741955703347118083
https://twitter.com/pooonnn_n/status/741939189583732736
Source: pooonnn_n twitter
Source: ponnn0708 instagram
Source: sat0k0jp twitter
https://twitter.com/sat0k0jp/status/742007601932603392
https://twitter.com/pooonnn_n/status/741929175427076096
https://twitter.com/pooonnn_n/status/741938982842310657
https://twitter.com/pooonnn_n/status/741955703347118083
https://twitter.com/pooonnn_n/status/741939189583732736
Source: pooonnn_n twitter
Source: ponnn0708 instagram
Source: sat0k0jp twitter
https://twitter.com/sat0k0jp/status/742007601932603392
Every cinema success story obscures a thousand copycats both professional and amateur; people who rose out of their theatre seat, hustled a budget and laboured through hours-long shoot days, all to come out not with the masterpiece for the masses they craved, but a missive that said exactly one thing: “like, holy ****, how good is Tarantino, you guys?”. I blame Quentin for the worst of it, though he and the ’90s wave of low-budget, high-wordcount directors that he rose to prominence with, from Richard Linklater down to Kevin Smith, are inadvertently responsible for smug, talky and odious stabs at genre trickery from people with no business writing them. Enter John Michael McDonagh, brother of fellow writer-director Martin McDonagh (In Bruges, Seven Psychopaths) and known for brusque Irish affairs like The Guard and Calvary. From the opening line of his New Mexico cop comedy War on Everyone — “I always wondered what sound a mime makes when it gets hit by a car” — there’s cause for concern that he’s fallen into the same smart-alec trap. Thankfully, the same guile that gave Calvary its emotional sucker punch makes this a headlong trip into surprising and cunning genre riffs.
The rapidfire dialogue between rogue officers Terry (Alexander Skarsgård) and Bob (Michael Peña) is cut by him and returning editor Chris Gill like ping-pong serves, bouncing around scenes set in stale middle-class environs and landing on each line with boisterous pride.1 The dialogue, penned by McDonagh, is packed with character quirks which put the cart before the horse in terms of character development, like when Terry proselytises to a crime witness on the music of Jim Cunningham, without us knowing what it’s meant to tell us about his hard-drinking personality. All this spells disaster, and yet as War on Everyone elbows its way through clichés to a blood-soaked finale, it reveals an unassailable penchant for morbid absurdity that is totally McDonagh’s own. It’s as though he’s trying to throw contemplation to the wind through a mildly distinctive B-movie, and failing beautifully upwards...
... Likewise, while the Ryan Reynolds-starrer tapped into discriminatory humour while labouring under the impression that it was a progressive idol, War couches its “problematic” gags in situations that either make Terry and Bob the ignorant butts of the joke, or confirm their prejudices so absurdly that it reinforces the harmless (albeit violent) cinematic fantasy land they live in.2
It would look like McDonagh’s doing his own spin on Seven Psychopaths, his brother’s America-set film, in trekking across the pond to rip American genre fetishists a new one with their own tropes. The concessions he claws back in this quest for simplicity are both confounding and marvelous. Fine, let’s have a snooty British villain played by a hot young actor from the Divergent series, but let’s have Caleb Landry Jones, the ghost-faced male lead from Heaven Knows What of all people, as his henchman. And sure, the two men have women on their arms to talk sense into them — Stephanie Sigman (Spectre) as Bob’s whip-smart wife, Tessa Thompson (Creed) as a majorette and Terry’s lover — but let’s grant them some dimension by way of a penchant for smart-assery rivaling their men and a scene that resoundingly passes the Bechdel-Wallace test. And if we must ascribe the most basic reason to hate the bad guys in time for the final showdown (and boy, do they ever), let’s roll it out with a seedy tracking shot where James skulks topless through his opulent mansion, surrounded by the fruits of his horrible labour. There’s a palpable hope that these screams into the winds of nihilism are welcome, and by my measure, the vivid aesthetic and deep-cut needle drops3 make that hope well placed.
Ultimately, however, it starts and ends with the central duo. Peña has swagger for days as an immaculately costumed, foul-mouthed man of the house, and while I barely know what in the hell led Skarsgård to hunch himself over and mush lines through a mouthful of liquor, I’m glad it happened, since some sequences that put him front and centre (including a dance to “Rhinestone Cowboy” with Thompson and a descent into drunken madness during a club stakeout) are totally indelible. As the peculiarities mount, you realise that they’re not blasé about their sordid lives, they’re bored....
http://fourthreefilm.com/2016/06/war-on-everyone/
The rapidfire dialogue between rogue officers Terry (Alexander Skarsgård) and Bob (Michael Peña) is cut by him and returning editor Chris Gill like ping-pong serves, bouncing around scenes set in stale middle-class environs and landing on each line with boisterous pride.1 The dialogue, penned by McDonagh, is packed with character quirks which put the cart before the horse in terms of character development, like when Terry proselytises to a crime witness on the music of Jim Cunningham, without us knowing what it’s meant to tell us about his hard-drinking personality. All this spells disaster, and yet as War on Everyone elbows its way through clichés to a blood-soaked finale, it reveals an unassailable penchant for morbid absurdity that is totally McDonagh’s own. It’s as though he’s trying to throw contemplation to the wind through a mildly distinctive B-movie, and failing beautifully upwards...
... Likewise, while the Ryan Reynolds-starrer tapped into discriminatory humour while labouring under the impression that it was a progressive idol, War couches its “problematic” gags in situations that either make Terry and Bob the ignorant butts of the joke, or confirm their prejudices so absurdly that it reinforces the harmless (albeit violent) cinematic fantasy land they live in.2
It would look like McDonagh’s doing his own spin on Seven Psychopaths, his brother’s America-set film, in trekking across the pond to rip American genre fetishists a new one with their own tropes. The concessions he claws back in this quest for simplicity are both confounding and marvelous. Fine, let’s have a snooty British villain played by a hot young actor from the Divergent series, but let’s have Caleb Landry Jones, the ghost-faced male lead from Heaven Knows What of all people, as his henchman. And sure, the two men have women on their arms to talk sense into them — Stephanie Sigman (Spectre) as Bob’s whip-smart wife, Tessa Thompson (Creed) as a majorette and Terry’s lover — but let’s grant them some dimension by way of a penchant for smart-assery rivaling their men and a scene that resoundingly passes the Bechdel-Wallace test. And if we must ascribe the most basic reason to hate the bad guys in time for the final showdown (and boy, do they ever), let’s roll it out with a seedy tracking shot where James skulks topless through his opulent mansion, surrounded by the fruits of his horrible labour. There’s a palpable hope that these screams into the winds of nihilism are welcome, and by my measure, the vivid aesthetic and deep-cut needle drops3 make that hope well placed.
Ultimately, however, it starts and ends with the central duo. Peña has swagger for days as an immaculately costumed, foul-mouthed man of the house, and while I barely know what in the hell led Skarsgård to hunch himself over and mush lines through a mouthful of liquor, I’m glad it happened, since some sequences that put him front and centre (including a dance to “Rhinestone Cowboy” with Thompson and a descent into drunken madness during a club stakeout) are totally indelible. As the peculiarities mount, you realise that they’re not blasé about their sordid lives, they’re bored....
http://fourthreefilm.com/2016/06/war-on-everyone/
Several Australian Alex fans including Alexanderssskarsbrow went to the screening the Sydney Film Festival yesterday.
Here's her review (there's spoilers so please keep scrolling if you don't want to read those).
Source: https://alexanderssskarsbrow.tumblr.com/post/145802526122
Here's her review (there's spoilers so please keep scrolling if you don't want to read those).
************************************************************************************
A lot of you know I have been waiting to see Alexander in a comedic role for quite some time now and I was so pleased with this film. As the typical fan girl I am, just to get this part out of the way first- Alex looked so good, like, really really good throughout the whole film. Even with a busted nose & blood everywhere at one stage, he still looked amazing. Rose coloured glasses? You bet! I can’t help it though! His short hair was on point (he should have his hair this length always), he was tanned, so towering & big… those tiny yellow undies… Yum! He was hunched over quite a bit though. My neck & back felt like they were hurting just watching him walk around like that. He also slurs quite a bit. Honestly, I can’t wait to see edits & gifs from this film when it’s released, I will reblog them all!
I managed to follow the plot quite easily, even with Alex in almost each scene, I wasn’t as distracted as I thought I’d be. The main villain, Theo James - although he’s actually quite attractive on the eyes… whenever he would talk, all I could think was how blank and emotionless he seemed to be. (not sure if his character was meant to be played this way or if he’s like this in all his films?)
Michael Peña and Alex were phenomenal together. I truly think they complimented one another so well in this film and you can tell they must’ve had a ball during filming.
The chemistry with Tessa’s character, Jackie, was alright - nothing too special tbh. She’s fricken gorgeous though.
Quickly a few scenes that I’m still chuckling about (basically every time Alex was on screen) Terry is pretty much drunk throughout the whole film. And he can’t park his car. Did I mention tiny yellow undies? So. Much.Tanned. Skin in that particular scene. Was trying my best not to drool in front of hubby, I had to act as nonchalant as possibleThe Rhinestone Cowboy dance with Jackie. The tennis scene where he throws himself into the net! But the club scene was probably my absolute favourite though… Terry is drunk as **** and throwing some crazy shapes. This scene will be gold for gif makers.
The cinema was pretty full for a 2pm screening (it’s a long weekend here in Sydney), but I did see some scattered empty seats here & there. I was so happy to hear most people around me genuinely laughing along . And as dorky as it can be, it was lovely to hear everyone clap loudly at the end of the film. When we were waiting to leave the theater, we heard few people saying that “Skarsgard looked familiar”….I looked on in horror as my husband interrupted two groups and informed them he was on True Blood as Eric Northman and is the new Tarzan. He’s such a nosy goofball lol, but he enjoyed WoE too. He just won’t admit it to me.
I’ll probably think of other things later on to add, but please go and see this film when it’s showing near you. Show your support to Alex and I know you’ll actually enjoy it the way I did
JUNE 12, 2016
Source: https://alexanderssskarsbrow.tumblr.com/post/145802526122
