- The first portion of my mind to turn itself off revealed itself the moment the movie opened in dead silence. “Screw it,” said the back of my mind. “A movie that opens in silence is no movie at all. Indeed, what is this movie but pretentious arty design student manure? A movie that opens in silence on a white screen is surely irredeemable. Congratulations, douchebag, you’ve managed to waste your price of admission again–and you got in for free.” I told this portion of my mind that there was no way it could be right. There was absolutely no way that this movie could get any worse. I mean, it had only opened by letting me listen to the sounds of everyone around me munching popcorn, checking smartphones and talking about the trailer for Fast Five. There was no way this movie could be that bad.
- “See? She shot that deer with an arrow. She shot a deer, with an arrow, and now that buck is dead. Hey, sorta like your buck in going to see this movie, isn’t it? I mean, I know you got in for free and all, but don’t you feel like you’ve wasted it somehow?” This was two minutes into the movie, and that little section of my mind was speaking up again. Of course, my better, more forgiving self recognized that this movie could be good if given the chance. Surely, it only opened in silence to convey the loneliness and desolation of the arctic in–hey, where were they, anyway? They were speaking English accented in German, so let’s assume Germany.
- And then the title screen came up and the majority of my little grey cells committed mutiny and abandoned ship. See, you know the title font was the typeface from the cover of every independent movie and album ever released–even ones that were actually major studio financed efforts just trying to look indie. It stood across the whole screen, white font on red plate–HANNA. It dared me to find it anything but staunchly independent and principled. It said “look at me, for I am serious and you shall take me seriously”. All the combined angst and self-pity and worry and neuroses and depression of that font looked up at me and shouted “BELIEVE US!” and I looked down and whispered “no.“
- It was a while into the movie now, and I was wondering when it would begin. You see, Eric Bana and Saoirse Ronan are in the forest, and Eric Bana’s apparently trained her to be a super-soldier. At which point, the last remaining vestige of interest my frontal lobes could cling on to like Wander hanging from a Colossus just ebbed away. “It’s Hit-Girl: The Movie, but not funny,” they said. It’s Hit-Girl: The Movie, but not funny. It’s Hit-Girl: The Movie, but not funny. It’s Hit-Girl: The Movie, but not funny. It’s Hit-Girl: The Movie, but not funny. It’s Hit-Girl: The Movie, but not funny. How do you make Hit-Girl: The Movie but not funny–wait a second, is that the Chemical Brothers?
- So apparently the Chemical Brothers did the score to this movie. It’s pretty listenable. I mean, it reminds me a lot of my childhood, listening to techno with my brother in the car. You know what came out during my childhood and the time of the early nineties. And the late nineties. Those were good times–I remember we had an N64. You know that there’s the power of an N64 in my hands when I play my DSi, right? The future, man. You know they have come out with a handheld now that will play SNES cartridges right in your hands. Even with two ports for controllers and a/v outs for your TV! You can plug an SNES that fits into your hands into the TV and play Chrono Trigger with it. Hey, I have Chrono Trigger right here in my DSi while I’m watching this movie. If I played on the lowest brightness, how many people would actually mind?
- Cos Chad said I was at the part of the game where it finally started to heat up. Unlike this movie, where after an absolutely interminable forty-five minutes, I was waiting for Cate “Help Me, This Is Not My Natural Accent” Blanchett to actually do something instead of sit around in moody spaces, caressing guns and talking quietly in the worst fake American accent I’ve heard outside of Jeremy Clarkson’s mouth. Also, everyone’s been mentioning that Hanna is abnormal. Does it have something to do with the fact that I can’t see her eyebrows, or that she’s falling in love with a girl barely past 14 when she’s 16 and can someone please ask the director why were staring so lovingly into their warm, soft and lovely embrace? Like, uh–is this an art thing or was this a personal thing the director wanted? Cos one of those answers would make me uncomfortable.
- I’m currently wondering if I should shave my scrotum. There are a lot of hairs on a scrotum, but on mine in particular, there’s this one hair that’s just a clear outlier. I’ve never seen it, but I’ve felt it. I’m also currently staring at the ceiling, rather than watch or listen to this movie.
- I’m now wondering why I’m not playing Chrono Trigger or Monster Dash or Age of Zombies or even Fruit Ninja–all games that are in my pockets right now that have significantly more merit as games than this has as a movie.
- Mel finds this movie so bad it’s good. I wish I could be so detached.
- There’s a choice moment where they use In the Hall of the Mountain King, but instead of a dynamic and shocking punchline–like the Winklevii losing the race in The Social Network–Cate Blanchett just asks “where’s Erik”.
- That moment is not the moment that exemplifies the film. We’ve seen the moment that exemplifies the film.
It’s the title card.
In short, while this movie may not be as bad as Battle Los Angeles, I don’t see that as any reason to praise it, either. It is also the only movie I have ever been sorely tempted to walk out of–even when I got the ticket for free. HALF A STAR