More or less free of spoilers but not personal paranoia
was in a blind spot in the morning, enjoying the kisses of ice, which are the most sincere a guy like me can get a Saturday night and plants on which side of the thin red line was the fault of a friend, when I noticed the magazine cover blonde, was standing in a part of the bar where no serving cups, a siding of the highway on weekends, while my companion went on talking, but I looked at the blonde sideways, not because he was particularly good, I was, but he could not shake the image of grime that accompanied it, a midget with four hairs, and a blue polo which could not cover even one third of belly sticking out every time you hit furious four jumps with the cup in his hand which the court jester to the delight of that first scene from her seat clapping fun.
returned the attention to my drink and my companion who kept talking about a certain ex (go weirdest name), something that mattered rather little at the time because my eyes followed the dwarf blue shirt I turned to look and saw scratched pocket and paid the blonde one with a ticket copazo new 50, she was still laughing thanks.
My friend continued talking, I said you get to see "Map of the Sounds of Tokyo" post hangover tomorrow to continue talking (to use me for emotional clínex), I find myself agreeing pretty fast although I know the percale spare, and looked at the Friend Zone in the blue shirt smiles at me, I think the fucking Torrebruno Sardinero is winking at me, shit, like zombies, are recognized and not attack each other.
Everyone at some point in our lives we want to be someone else, especially in those moments where life is so strong and crushes you with the same mercy that a hydraulic press, and at that moment I saw the reality so clear that you want to have one of those perfect substitutes that appear in the film that we came to see, a handsome and high-MRA Super Cache that would become the only topic of conversation my friend after leaving shot after a few dates and then was where a dwarf Pagafantas mounted above the bar blonde to demonstrate how he was wasting his time and reclaiming land pasta wilderness.
Surrogates Surrogates (2009) Jonathan Mostow
the end is what it is, nobody wants to be Stephen Hawkins (Perhaps the intelligence brings happiness?) But some would kill to be in the shoes of Hugh Jackman , and that is what shows more success this film Jonathan Mostow, whose opening scene where he runs a nightclub there is no Pagafantas because all the people who attend are perfect humanoid people drive from their home and what they will, the chocolate frosting without waiting for Christmas.
That is the picture presented substitutes, a more or less semi idyllic Gordon's ugly and not there (at least on the street) and everyone is gorgeous because they live their lives from your room online a console to manage their robotijos (How to Eat?) and incubated people to suffer a brutal paranoia real pain or have an accident, as though connected to all human senses to robotino can happen without any dirty tricks operator suffer any consequence that has made the world a place where not even aseptic drugs are dangerous as we see in a scene from the film that reminds of Futurama episode where Bender becomes addicted to overloading.
is a useful starting point since then, based on the comic "substitutes" for Robert Venditti and Brett Weldele unfortunately I have not had the pleasure of reading, but which presuppose the best ideas from the film or not, and I imagine it myself.
The adaptation of this graphic novel is signed by Jonathan Mostow , author of the much hated Terminator 3 (rightly), and U571 forgotten and whose only film I like is Breakdown curiously the first with a respectable budget.
And it seems to get progressively worse Mostow on every job, make a movie like the one in question goes by the hair of 80 minutes with a charismatic star as Willis becomes so highly long and boring cries to heaven, and that counts as I said with a starting point that led to philosophize a lot, ignoring even a drag as the detective story is not understood very well and I went without any interest, plus the script includes excellent ideas in the hands of people like Alex Proyas Vincenzo Natali or had given for much more, as the first exit on the street without a substitute Tom, - I can not believe you were not given anything antianxiety - tells his partner
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notes referring to her son's accident and the physical and emotional has had to endure his wife (attention to when you first enter his room and see a bunch of pill bottles) then there are the routine and some exciting action scenes that would fit perfectly in Terminator 3 (which if I had a good action sequence, that is, that Crane) as the pursuit of Tom Strickland that gives rise to another excellent point then falls to nothing, the crucifixion of his replacement by the community of naturists who refuse to use robots to life, metaphor Tom resurrection of the flesh which Christ vulgar.
The balance is not good, mainly because Mostow is unable to give life to its history; see for example the final climax with Radha Mitchell neither excited nor interested or anything else, and culminating in the street scene, which as I said in the hands of another writer with talent and other music (Richard Uncle Marvin, you've covered themselves in glory) may have started real excitement in the ranks of cinema. the end I had the feeling that Bruce Willis is an actor with his presence is able to save any outrage, or at least in part, and that below the replacement was a good movie that unfortunately ended up not come to light anywhere.
Some ideas of the film are to think a while as the military robots have no face (making the unknown soldier), or the way it shows the "real" people with a physical as disastrous, but the concept is more than what it really says the film, which promises and eventually comes to nothing; much as my session Map of the Sounds of Tokyo I left not wanting to be a substitute tall and handsome but a robot with a couple machine guns under each arm to melt the first thing I ask that this Sunday afternoon with a mischievous smile.
If they do not learn.
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