I’m probably more fascinated by H.R. Giger and his xenomorph than is entirely healthy, so it took me a little while to get over the fact that the aliens aren’t really the star, or even the star baddie, of Alien: Covenant. But get over it I did, and what’s more, I found myself doing more post-movie thinking about its worldview than I had expected.
So there’s that. But I was still disappointed that they didn’t do more with the horror potential of that awful critter. Here he feels more like a particularly ferocious animal than a malevolent force of nature. Maybe it was the slasher-style violence. (Seriously, though, even in the trailer, he’s sneaking up on a couple while they’re getting it on. That’s straight Friday the 13th right there.)
Death makes a less violent, more ruminative appearance in the documentary Obit, which I liked. Why, yes, I did used to dream of starting a magazine called Obit that would consist of excellent obituaries for the people who had died the previous month. Thanks for asking. But of course the Internet made that dream shrivel up and skitter away like yesterday’s newspaper. As the movie notes, people don’t even want to wait until the next day any more. But it also shows why such an endeavor might have been worthwhile and even enjoyable.
Moving on to the illness mentioned in the title of this post: Everything, Everything is a teen romance in which the girl isn’t allowed to go outside because of her condition. Good thing there’s a cute boy to get her to forget herself and her parents and everything, everything else. Yay, cute boys! We didn’t review it, just like we didn’t review the Frenchy food-and-wine glories of Paris Can Wait, which would most likely have made me sick with envy. But they’re out there if you’re so inclined, as is The Last Men in Aleppo, which I regret not seeing.
And poop? Scott had doody duty with Diary of a Wimpy Kid: The Long Haul, and he enjoyed it more than might be expected. A kid at heart, that one.
As for divorce, it hangs like the legally (un)binding Sword of Damocles over the unhappy couple at the center of The Lovers, which is why it’s surprising when said couple starts coupling. Or maybe it isn’t, given what we learn about them. It’s well made, but it isn’t terribly pleasant (which puts it ahead of the unhappy, er, evil couple pic Hounds of Love, by Scott’s account). Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
If it’s good feelings you want, it sounds like your best bet is the “real-life Rocky” biopic Chuck. Yes, there’s cocaine addiction, but come on, the man boxed a bear.