Talk:Izumi Akazawa/@comment-6052796-20140913190950/@comment-397235-20140917005215

Well, for Romero, as I recall, didn't Barbra try to let her brother into the house? And for most of the film, she sits on the couch and watches Captain Asshole make plans to get the rest of them killed; likewise, Judy's sole contribution to the plot is getting herself and her boyfriend killed because she didn't listen (to be fair, they had to shoehorn her in as her character wasn't in the script but they liked the actress and said "What the hell?"). As for Francine, she's a better shot than the three people on Earth who don't need to be carrying guns? That's not a ringing endorsement. Much to my shame, I've never seen Day of the Dead, but the women in Land weren't especially useful or even memorable, nor were the ones in Survival; the main heroine in Diary being the only one who actually really understands what she's doing. This is why that's the only Romero film I own.

They Live! I don't think anyone will deny is perhaps one of the most hypocritical pieces of film ever made. I mean, Carpenter doesn't give it away for free, does he? Not to mention having some of the most absurd plot points in human history: guy gets handed magical glasses by some random guy, puts them on and starts seeing people differently, so what's his first response? Start insulting people, kill a couple cops, take their guns, and shoot up a bank. If anything, I think the film is a reverse of how everyone sees it: Nada (no, really, that's the guy's name) is so blinded by his ideology he's going to do whatever it takes to make sure his version of the world is preserved (hence why he sees everything in black and white with the glasses on).

I've seen Snyder's prequel to The Thing and enjoyed it; on the one hand, I'd like to see the original, but on the other, after seeing the massive handjob he gave himself in They Live! by having the aliens specifically mention he and Romero as being subversive filmmakers (I mean, seriously, how big an ego do you have to have to make a movie like this and insert yourself as a potential hero?), I don't know if it'd be worthwhile.

As for Thin Red Line, it's an art film trying very, very hard to be a war movie, except it was made by people who very clearly have absolutely no idea what war in the Pacific is like (this is evidenced by all the existentialism being espoused by Marines who in real life probably couldn't even spell the word, or the fifty-some-odd Japanese soldiers who surrender without firing a shot at the end).

My favorite scene involves Sean Penn watching two corpsmen and at least one other Marine killed trying to rescue a dying comrade. Watching the senselessness of this, he turns around and walks away, while muttering how "It's all about property." While this succinct statement is sufficient if he needed to explain the game Monopoly in five words or less, it has very little to do with the war between America and Japan...not that the director seems to have cared.

If Another had been written by Romero, then Misaki wouldn't exist and therefore Kouichi really would have started the Calamity by talking to Mei. This, of course, would be downplayed, as Countermeasures, representing the "establishment" would be the real villains, even though every single choice they make would be correct, only to be undermined by Kouichi and Mei attempting to fix the problem "their way;" most of the class would die before either of them realize they're wrong and start doing what they're supposed to be doing: killing the Extra. We'd also have copious amounts of ludicrous and for the most part unrealistic gore: a lot more blood for Yukari's death, none of the sanitation for Sanae's, Junta would've been full-on eviscerated, you'd probably see some bones protruding from Yumi when she fell, Takako would probably have somehow either gotten her throat slit or her head ripped off, Izumi would've shoved her rod through Tomohiko's head rather than just bashing him with it, and she'd have been a lot bloodier when she finally died. Oh, and it'd also be set in Pennsylvania, because everything Romero does is set in Pennsylvania, even when it makes no sense (Raccoon City, a mid-western town in America? It's outside Pittsburgh.)

I really don't like that guy. He's not a good writer, he's not an especially fantastic cinematographer, he's horrible at sound cues and soundtracks, and his ideas are all pretty much the same: fucked up people do fucked up things for fucked up reasons while we search for a reason to give a fuck.

No offense to you, Shane. I'm sure I like writers you don't. Personal preference, different strokes, and all that. And congratulations for not dying. That's always a good call. :)

And wow, Lilian, that's a little harsh...