Showing posts with label ugly. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ugly. Show all posts

Friday, March 10, 2017

Review: Kong - Skull Island

In 2014, Legendary Pictures released their new take on the long-running Godzilla franchise. Expectations were extremely low, however, given the character's previous attempt from an American studio. Despite some middling reviews, Godzilla 2014 was met with decent fan reception. After learning the new King Kong reboot, Kong: Skull Island would share a continuity with Godzilla and also establish a new universe of connected films, my hope was firmly that the film could show the studio knew which problems to fix from Godzilla. The concern, though, was whether or not the movie would be able to stand up to its nearly century-long legacy.

Review: Kong - Skull Island

Kong: Skull Island takes place immediately following the conclusion of the Vietnam War--in fact, within a few minutes of the film's opening characters stop to watch President Nixon's announcement to end the war. John Randa, played by the excellent John Goodman, of the government agency Monarch gathers an expedition to chart the eponymous Skull Island, located in a dangerous area of the sea known for causing mass disappearances. The expedition, consisting of ex-SAS James Conrad, a Vietnam helicopter squadron, and an anti-war photojournalist travel to the storm-shrouded island and are quickly stranded after their squad is attacked by a colossal ape. The group have only a few days to reach their rendezvous before they're lost forever, but the island's prehistoric monsters complicate the mission.

The first element I noticed about the film, aside from its rich color palette and often jarring camera, is that the pacing seems like a direct response to that of Godzilla. Kong is introduced within a few minutes of the film and the crew are stranded on the island within half an hour. Skull Island wastes no time in introducing its large cast and multiple subplots, though many of the characters are extremely flat. That doesn't mean they're uninteresting, and in general with a film as simple as this the characters are often best served as being easily identifiable. Shea Whigham's character, for example, is always entertaining on-screen as a brash, though empty-headed, soldier with a love of weaponry.

Samuel Jackson's delivers a solid performance as Colonel Preston Packard, the head of the military squad. Packard is a war hawk, reluctant to leave Vietnam and eager at the chance to continue his mission if only as an escort to Randa's expedition. After Kong obliterates the helicopter squad, Packard loses himself with an obsession to take down the giant ape. Despite the film being relatively shallow, I appreciate that a human character in a monster movie can sufficiently complicate the plot without necessarily being an outright villain. His goals are murky, but still reasonable given his character.

The arguable protagonists Conrad and Mason, however, are not quite as instantly likable as Jackson's character. In fact, I'd argue they're some of the worst parts of the movie. Conrad, played by Tom Hiddleston, is a completely bland gruff ex-military man who spends most of his time scowling and just following Mason around. Mason--played by Joseph Gordon-Levitt stand-in Brie Larson--is easily the most irritating character in the movie and possibly one of my biggest negative marks against it. Her character is focused entirely on exposing the military but instead she just comes off as one-note and grates on the viewer. I wish I knew this was the director's intent, but given how close Mason grows to Kong in their brief encounters I'd wager it's the opposite.

Kong, as one would guess, is easily the most likable character in the entire film. Unlike Godzilla in his recent American film, Kong appears frequently and participates in many of the film's major plot points. Ironically, the only big action scene he's not involved in is so bad that it's nearly unwatchable--I suppose it's necessary given it's one of the few times the human characters are thrown into a large conflict, but the scene itself is shot extremely poorly and looks cheap. Kong himself does not look cheap at all; in fact, of all the CG monkeys in the world of film, Kong is easily the best-looking.

His body is covered in detailed scars and every inch of his body is covered in moving hair, and his movements and actions carry a great deal of weight. I can see a fight with Kong and Godzilla being more of an even match given Kong's acrobatics, but unlike Godzilla he is wounded easily. As it turns out, an entire subplot is dedicated to Kong recovering from his wounds after the helicopter attack and it makes the monster feel more vulnerable as a result. Godzilla, while being imposing and incredible to watch, likely had to have his screen-time reduced because he was just such an unstoppable force of nature in the recent Godzilla film.

The insistence on placing the humans in the way of every single encounter with the MUTO made them feel small and powerless, but at the end of the day nearly every human scene in Godzilla came off like filler. In Kong: Skull Island, the humans are actively involved with the plot given that they are all desperate to escape the island so the action comes to them, rather than them seeking out the monsters. The creatures of Skull Island are also incredibly well-designed, unique in their appearance while coming off as believable in the scope of the prehistoric nature of the island. Giant bison roam the landscape, but the forest is full of enormous insects and other fauna which just beg the world to be explored closer.

The exploration of the island is cut off with desperation when John C. Reilly's character is introduced. Marlow was lost at sea during World War II, crash-landing on Skull Island with a Japanese fighter pilot and forced to survive with the natives. The natives, for their part, are portrayed as noble and peaceful, giving the movie a humane touch. Marlow is goofy and aloof as expected of a character played by Reilly, and he even sports a leather coat emblazoned with what I can only assume is a reference to his popular Steve Brule character. On a side note, not only is Steve Brule referenced but a certain famous line from Jurassic Park is shouted almost verbatim by its original speaker, Sam Jackson. I'd have liked the film to contain more irreverent references like these, but sadly these are the only two that jumped out at me during my first viewing. I say first because you can bet I'm going to see it again.

Marlow creates a great contrast to the expedition and the banter between them is humorous, especially since Marlow has been separated from society for nearly a quarter of a decade. When push comes to shove, the character changes gears to a much more serious attitude and the viewer can really get a sense that Marlow has seen the worst the island has to offer. When he's giving the crew exposition, it doesn't feel unnecessary or forced because it's necessary information which he gained from experience. To say he steals the show is a fair criticism, but given how boring many of the other main characters are it's a nice change of pace. He's also the first and last character to be seen in the film, so to have him reappear and take over never feels like his character is shoehorned into the script.

What does feel shoehorned is the obnoxious action shots which utterly destroy the otherwise excellent pace of the movie. You know that annoying shot every single 3D movie used when a character would throw something? That same type of shot appears multiple times, and since so much of the budget was spent on Kong and the island's monsters all but one of the human action scenes look like a cheap pile of crap. I don't know how a script with John C. Reilly butchering pterodactyls with a katana could possibly translate to an incoherent mess, but Kong: Skull Island manages to pull it off. There's a shot that's so bad during this one scene that I really can't do it justice by describing it, but I'm sure you'll recoil the same way I did when it finally comes up. There's also an egregious use of first-person video game camera angles interspersed only a couple of times, and it's both so ugly and used so few times that it's completely jarring. I don't understand what these camera shots are even doing in the movie and their inclusion only hurts the overall quality of the film. If someone knows why these shots are used at all and why the director didn't have someone violently tear this out of the film please call me. Please. I'm so lonely.

Aside from the question of Kong: Skull Island fixing the trove of pacing issues with Godzilla, one of the major points of contention is whether or not this serves as a respectable King Kong movie. Don't get me wrong, the series is full to the brim with horrible schlock and I'd even argue the original King Kong is hilariously stupid at times, but given its importance in cinema I know that this statement damages my credibility as a critic. That said, King Kong is not a stranger to silly sequels and spinoffs, so unlike Godzilla this movie really didn't have a negative reputation to live up to. A bad King Kong movie isn't going to destroy any possibility of a foreign movie firm permanently locking up their characters, so to be completely honest I wasn't too concerned with the movie living up to any standards.

That said, the film doesn't actually borrow too heavily from its lineage in obvious ways. A very short scene features Kong violently fighting a giant octopus in a fitting nod to King Kong VS Godzilla and the iconic scene with Kong and a human woman is played with in an interesting form, but the main influences, as the director is extremely forthcoming with, is in war movies--especially Francis Ford Coppola's astounding Apocalypse Now. The shot composition works very well and the influence can be seen clearly, but thankfully the tone of the movie actually compliments the setting and characters.

One obvious benefit to the shift away from its lineage is in distancing the film from its previous entry, Peter Jackson's bloated fifty-hour epic from 2005. The two movies are so wildly different in both tone and approach to the subject matter that they feel like extremely distinct films, and while the previous movie was obviously made with more care and attention it's just so goddamn long and uninteresting that I can't see myself ever going back to it. On the other hand, Kong: Skull Island is fast, energetic, and full of humorous if not shallow characters. No characters feel miscast--like 2005 King Kong's Jack Black--and the story moves along briskly with hardly any filler. Does it stick to the plot of the original King Kong? No, not at all. Truth be told, I don't think it needs to either.

Verdict

Kong: Skull Island moves along at a brisk pace with tremendous action, though the budget is inconsistent and some action scenes look terrible. The characters are hit-or-miss and I can see others liking the characters I didn't, but a few of the actors--especially Brie Larson--are completely boring on screen. The movie wears its inspirations on its sleeves and doesn't shy away from gruesome violence, but on the flip side the film can become so gory that a discerning prude of a parent should probably consider that before taking their poor sheltered child to see it. For my part as a big kaiju fan I utterly adored this movie, and if you approach it knowing it can get cheap or weird then you'll have a great time. The ties to Legendary's MonsterVerse are very apparent and if this doesn't make you leap out of your chair in excitement for what's to come, I don't know what will.


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Thursday, May 26, 2016

Review and Analysis: Berserk - The Egg of the King

I have a confession to make: Berserk is in fact the best fantasy story ever written. Retire your Lord of the Rings, put Harry Potter to bed, throw Game of Thrones in the garbage. Berserk is the absolute cream of the crop. Deep characterization, beautiful artwork, gruesome violence and a fully developed dark medieval world with some of the most striking grey morality seen in comics. It's a true masterpiece, one which I can totally accept waiting years upon years for twenty pages of very little plot development just to get more. Well, unless you're a poor soul whose first experience with the series is through the Golden Age trilogy movie series. Please don't do this to yourself.

Because of the size of this review I'll be splitting it into separate posts for each movie. If you actually want to watch the film trilogy for some reason or intend to read the excellent Berserk manga, I suggest you do so now. If you're unsure of how to break into the series, that's the route you should take. There will be spoilers for volumes 3-13 of the manga and the entirety of the 1997 anime. If you're still here, then please enjoy.

The Egg of the King

The first film of the trilogy, The Egg of the King, kicks things off with Guts in his mercenary group laying siege to a castle. I don't want to harp on too much about the big omissions made in the movies and would rather judge most adapted work on their own merits, but this film trilogy has a bad tendency of cutting extremely important details to shove in very poor CGI set piece moments--as it turns out, the first movie opens with this exact issue. Let me explain: Berserk, in both the manga and original anime, begin in media res with Guts, as the Black Swordsman, slaughtering his way through the Apostles in his quest for vengeance.

Establishing a fantasy series with the extraordinary is not simply an aesthetic choice; it's designed that way specifically for the audience to know exactly what they're getting into. In the case of Berserk, we know Guts is on a murder rampage fighting enormous monsters with a giant sword before stepping back and building the world with the Golden Age arc. Note that this does cause tonal problems in the first movie, and not in a particularly interesting way. Game of Thrones has a similar set-up as the very first thing seen are the wights, even though they're not a plot point until nearly the end of the first season/book. A viewer already needs to suspend their disbelief enough as is with a fantasy series, and bludgeoning them with an even more fantastical element does nothing to help that. As an added bit of hilarity with this analogy, Game of Thrones also just introduced an out-of-place tone annihilator that I'm still coming to grips with because, after six seasons, it's throwing in new concepts that seem out-of-place in the story.

This isn't a new concept; in fact, the strongest example behind this establishment is from the grandfather of fantasy, JRR Tolkien. In an essay, Tolkien wrote "[an author] makes a Secondary World which your mind can enter. Inside it, what he relates is 'true': it accords with the laws of that world. ... The moment disbelief arises, the spell is broken; the magic, or rather art, has failed." So if you begin a story as a strictly low fantasy about orphaned child soldiers and medieval conflicts, throwing in evil Satan monsters from Hell out of nowhere ruins that internal consistency. It's like having a low fantasy in a setting where magic is dying and dragons are extinct suddenly introducing a convoluted time travel Grandfather Paradox. If your setting doesn't follow the rules established early on it becomes harder for the audience to suspend their disbelief; starting Berserk anywhere but the the Black Swordsman arc is a failure, in my opinion.

So when the first Berserk film opens with an irritatingly loud and ugly CG castle siege that drags on far too long and serves only to put Guts in front of Bazuso, expectations are justifiably low. These enormous battles occur often enough in the series and wasting too much time with one at the very beginning can only cause fatigue with later castle sieges. Considering the first two films are barely over an hour long, wasting time is hardly a great way to start the series. Then again, it's kind of hard to not call this thing a waste of time. The 1997 anime already exists and the movies begin with less content than that series, and by the end there's very little you wouldn't get otherwise. All the films needed to do was fill in the gaps but we're already wasting several minutes for a battle nobody ever wanted to see. As a comparison, the first anime opens with Guts as the Black Swordsman with his Dragonslayer sword laying waste to an Apostle before the scene flashes directly to Guts facing off with Bazuso. It's a better introduction to the story as a whole and wastes little time, unlike this thing.

Guts then just kind of leaves his mercenary camp, ignoring a vital character detail in which he hates being touched. That's fine though, because the film trilogy entirely removes that aspect of Guts's character. In fact, most characterization is thrown out the window in the film trilogy. Characters like Corkus and even minor characters like Gaston, who barely qualified as a character to begin with, are completely thrown in the background and do very little aside from fight and act like a one-dimensional cartoons. Part of the reason Berserk is so widely regarded as transcending its medium is its characterization; even if we see them very little, in the manga we can tell exactly how someone like Pippin or Corkus will act because their characters are developed. In the film trilogy Corkus just attacks Guts because he wants to and Guts just leaves the mercenary camp because he feels like it, there's no reason for any of these characters to be near each other aside from contrivances.

Guts easily defeats the Hawks before being handily beaten by Griffith, and in his ensuing feverish nightmare the viewer is given a tease about Guts's past. In my nightmares I'm not actually the best, smartest and strongest person who everyone admires. They're waking nightmares because it's every second of my life. What, Berserk? Oh, so Guts has these terrible nightmares that are apparently directed by an idiot who thinks the viewer can tell what this out-of-focus blurry mess actually is.

Can you tell what's happening here? Not
if you haven't read the manga!

So in a baffling display of complete ineptitude the film trilogy omits Guts's very tragic backstory involving patricide, the coolest tree ever, rape, and disease--although for some strange reason the rape is still shown without context. The only way to know what happens to Guts and why he hates being touched is to read the manga, but then what is the point of this film trilogy if not to fill in the blanks left by the original anime? I'd hate to posit the theory that it's entirely to get the viewers prepared for the disappointment of ugly CG in the upcoming Black Swordsman anime adaptation. Actually, I'm going to posit it anyway. This film series is supposed to replace the original anime, but all you get out of these first two films, at least, are a bad adaptation of the Golden Age.

The only people who have any idea what's going on in that above flashback are people who read the manga, but if these movies are supposed to catch up newcomers for the upcoming series then what is the point of including them in the first place? Guts also has nightmare flashbacks to Gambino and his past in Gambino's mercenaries, but there's absolutely no context. You can hardly tell what's going on in the flashbacks which entirely defeats the purpose. Maybe if they'd cut out the boring three minutes of fighting that started off the movie they could have left it in. Whoops. As an aside, in the manga this all comes full circle when Casca and Guts have sex, but we're not there yet. Just so you know, that's been omitted as well. Before we get there we have to parse a lot of elbow-deep stupid butt butter poopoo crap stupid


There's something I need to point out here after re-watching the film. There actually is some dialogue that gives greater context to the flashbacks, but I swear that you absolutely cannot hear anything because it's so muffled. So congratulations, Egg of the King. I finally deciphered your annoying flashback puzzle. I guess next time I'll watch the movies at three thousand percent volume with subtitles to make sure I don't miss critical plot details. Good job!

So after some annoying flashbacks with no context that are never, I seriously mean never explained during the course of the film trilogy, Guts is formally introduced to the Band of the Hawk. Guts is embarrassed to learn that he was kept from developing a fever with the help of Casca, a female member of the Hawks who was commanded to keep him warm after falling to Griffith in battle. Needless to say, she's pretty ashamed of having little choice in the matter and punches Guts in his wound before stomping off. He is forced to become a member of the Hawks after a second crushing defeat by Griffith, an ambitious young man who is given far more development than just about anyone in the entire series--at least, if you're only watching these movies.

At this point in both the 1997 anime and manga Guts is charged with leading a surprise attack on an enemy camp to judge his effectiveness, and after pleasing Griffith with his instinctual knowledge of battle Guts is promoted to captain of the Raiders, the Hawks' vanguard. Not only does this give the audience a great deal of character development in regards to nearly every member of the Band of the Hawk, what their roles are, how they interact and just how great of a tactical genius Griffith actually is, it also serves to give a bit of development to the Hawks who aren't entirely convinced by the inclusion of Guts in the group. It's a great character moment and serves as an interesting change of locale as the battle is largely a covert mission at night. Instead, in this movie Guts is just thrown into his spot at the Raiders and a few years pass.

I hate that this scene was cut, not in the least since it was cut to shove in another protracted battle scene in the middle of an open field with ugly CG. It's the same as every last battle in the Golden Age arc and after the first one they really start to blend together, and in the spirit of the films important character moments are thrown aside to show off laughable CG.

Casca nags at Guts--one of her few character traits--as she thinks he's reckless and is putting the Hawks in danger, and Griffith steps in to explain Casca's annoyance. At this time the larger conflict is introduced: Midland has been at war with Chuder in The Hundred Year War, and Chuder is gaining the upper hand. Griffith is knighted and his Band of the Hawk is semi-officially absorbed into Midland as the kingdom's premier army. As a quick note, the films at least do the honor of going into small detail over the different types of armies; for example, there's the Band of the Hawk, of course, but there's also the White Dragon knights, the Holy Iron Chain, Blue Whale Heavy Infantry, Black Ram Iron Lance--just about every army band has a specific title. It's a neat bit of world building that's so minor I'm surprised the film even took the time to bother, but it's all there. The Band of the Hawk, as it turns out, is perhaps the best of all of these army bands and the king of Midland is not lost on this fact. Many nobles take note of this and hold private meetings to discuss the Hawks' meteoric rise in power, although this really doesn't go anywhere in the films as the primary instigator behind the conspiracies, Minister Foss, is completely absent from the film trilogy. He's actually a very important character and without him, much of the undercurrent of the tension during Golden Age is entirely cut. Foss is a character that Griffith can't just deal with in battle, he's a tactical genius much like Griffith and it was always interesting to see the two moving their own chess pieces as the story progressed. But no, that's completely absent and it really does feel like something important is missing.

Before I move on, I want to bring detail to an annoying detail lost in the film trilogy: small moments with the Hawks that are mostly absent. These can range from funny to somber and the audience gets to really know the Band of the Hawk and all of its members, and you can really see the lack of development with them as the films progress. It's kind of a minor point and you get some of that as the films move on, but these movies are so down in the dumps and moody that a little bit of the tension deserves to be released every now and then. As it is, the films all have a problem with the plot being torpedoed into the next big scene from the manga, and watching a condensed version of a series I know so well does get jarring without any of these camp sections. Like many times these movies scenes are mashed together seemingly at random; for instance, right before Casca nags Guts and calls him a mad dog--a poignant detail you probably should keep in mind for later story arcs--an earlier camp scene is crammed here without much purpose and just feels terribly awkward.

During the Hawks' campaign, several soldiers are held up inside a castle and the Hawks are left without a word from them until one soldier escapes to tell them that a legendary warrior named Zodd is inside slaughtering literally everybody. In a frenzy, Guts charges inside and matches Zodd in blows. The latter suddenly mutates into a giant monster, tossing Guts around like a ragdoll. I like this scene. Zodd looks great and most of the scene is a direct adaptation of the events in the manga. There's good direction in the action and you can really see how intimidating Zodd is in his Apostle form. Griffith joins Guts and the two are injured; before Zodd can deliver the killing blow he notices a trinket Griffith wears and leaves Guts with an ominous warning of his death.

While I do enjoy this scene as a returning viewer, I just can't imagine what a newcomer to the series, whose first experience with Berserk is this movie, would think about this scene. It really is well-made and they translate the pages of the manga very well, but it's such a dramatic tonal shift that the stakes are completely shifted at once. More than that, it makes the Zodd moment seem like a complete swerve that seems to have little relevance to the story. Worse, this moment is essential to the rest of the story arc, so there's no way around it--so why not begin the movie with just a brief glimpse of Apostles like this? It's not like there's a shortage of them.

Just use this stupid loser, I don't care.

The shot at the beginning of the third movie would have been great to start this particular film, and it would definitely make the transition to the Zodd scene smoother. But whatever. I'm sure other people love this movie because of this. They're wrong, but it's cute that their brains still work.

After this Guts and Griffith have a quiet moment in Midland castle; Griffith finally shows his trinket, the Behelit (or, the Egg of the Supreme Ruler), which he received by a creepy old lady in his youth. He explains that, in exchange for something precious, the owner of the Behelit can achieve their deepest dreams. This moment also crams two entirely different scenes together, and all the details become difficult to parse with so much being thrown at the audience at once. There's also an entirely new scene here that I just adore: while Guts is inspecting the Behelit, its eyes begin to open. Horrified, he throws the Behelit in the air and falls back. Griffith catches the Behelit and, seeing Guts fall, turns around to grab him. Guts leaps up to grab his sword and sighs in relief.

Everything about this small character moment is unbelievably charming that I have difficulty determining if this was something Miura wanted to add or if the director had a moment of "not being an idiot" and created a masterful ten seconds of film on his own. Guts reacts with shock to the Behelit and, despite being at the peak of physical fitness, has a short bout of clumsiness. We see that Griffith is a capable leader who keeps the symbol of his ultimate goal, the Behelit, within his reach at all times. He has little trouble catching it in midair, and when Guts falls Griffith effortlessly turns and catches him despite both of their injuries. Griffith seemingly cares for his ambition and his soldier at the same time and, even though it could cause stress to his healing body, he still takes time to consider his men. Guts, on the other hand, has a negative reaction to the fantastical element of the Behelit and is nearly out-of-character in his clumsiness. While nearly falling off a staircase, he spurns Griffith's help (if he even noticed Griffith reaching for him at all) because the most important thing in the world to him, his massive sword, might fall to the ground and get scraped.

We see every single detail about both of these characters in a matter of seconds without ever having to be told their motivations or beliefs. Simply interacting with the environment, each other, and their belongings, we see through their actions and expressions what these characters cherish. Griffith grabs the Behelit out of the air first and even holds it close to himself for a brief moment before noticing Guts falling, and Guts ignores Griffith's help to reach out for the most important thing in the world to him. It's such a brilliant and poignant scene that I'm still baffled that it's in such an otherwise poorly slapped-together movie. This is the kind of stuff Berserk is at its best with: in a few seconds and with nobody speaking, we understand everything about these two. I'm a bit disappointed that the bath scene is omitted and much of it is halfheartedly grafted into this part of the film. That would have also helped to ease the tonal shift with Zodd's introduction since it occurs earlier, and up to that point we're given little knowledge of the Behelit as well. In any case, this is a great moment, and the rest of the film follows suit by actually following the manga very closely.

The king of Midland, a few noblemen, and Princess Charlotte pass by after the king exchanges words with Griffith, who at this point has been promoted to the title of Count. Charlotte trips and, seeing an opportunity to get close to her, Griffith catches her. One of the noblemen, Julius, takes umbrage with this act and chastises Griffith for laying a hand on the princess. Following this exchange, the Hawks are given an opportunity to assist in boar hunting with the royal family; Julius hires an assassin to poison Griffith, though this attempt fails when the Behelit mysteriously blocks the arrow. There are a few cute little moments with Griffith and Charlotte, but truth be told there's very little else between these two characters. I'll get into that more with the following movie, but in the film trilogy there are few interactions between Griffith and Charlotte and he really does go out of his way to charm the pants off her. Well...we'll get to that.

Griffith tracks the poison back to Julius and orders Guts to assassinate him in turn.While discussing the assassination there's also a funny scene omitted from the manga with Griffith passing Guts some Kama Sutra-esque sexual book and it gives the two some juvenile camaraderie, especially given that they're both still teenagers at this point. It breaks the dour tone of the series just for a little bit, and like the camp scenes you can clearly tell that something is missing. So Guts just decides to go murder Julius for fun and while there brutally murders Julius's son, Adonis. This is a defining moment for the character and begins the trend of his doubt for Griffith--it also reinforces that Guts is still a human who makes stupid mistakes. You can't really help but feel bad for Guts despite the fact that he just murdered a child; Guts is still a teenager himself despite looking like a bulking colossus, and this moment weighs on his conscious in fairly obvious ways as the story unfolds. Before he can collect his thoughts the guards find him and attempt to halt his progress, though most are slaughtered.

Another scene here that I absolutely despise being cut is Guts reflecting on Adonis and Julius's relationship before going in for the kill. Julius is a demanding parent who berates Adonis for being rather terrible at swordplay, and this reminds Guts of his past in Gambino's mercenary camp. He feels sorry for Adonis and empathizes with the little kid because he sees some of himself in him, so when he ultimately murders Adonis by pure accident he puts himself in the shoes of a monster. Guts dreams of himself as Nosferatu Zodd murdering a version of himself as a child, and it all comes back around to this one pitiful moment. The film completely skips all of this and I'd consider it a failure just for that alone. This is probably the most important development in Guts's character during the entire Golden Age arc and I can't help but feel it was skipped for some stupid CG battle. Hope you're happy, idiots.

I should mention here that the film actually rectifies one of my biggest pet peeves with the manga: in the original, Guts is one of the only people in the world who is shown effortlessly swinging around a weapon as huge as his sword. While he does clear out a majority of the guards, it should have been a no-brainer to connect the assassination with the only guy in the entire castle town who actually has a weapon that could cause such devastating wounds as Guts's sword. Instead they have him wielding a normal longsword and he's shown to be as proficient with it as he is with his normal greatsword, and I can't even begin to explain how grateful I am that they took the time to fix this small detail. In a world as consistent as Berserk, I always thought that Guts never once being questioned as the assassin was a massive oversight.

Who could possibly have stabbed Adonis
with a sword so massive it obliterated all of his internal
organs in one swing? Eh, whatever, guess we'll never know.

Guts falls into the castle sewers and interrupts the Hawks during a party. Casca begins to berate him for disappearing without a trace, but is visibly upset when she notices that Guts is covered in wounds and barely responsive. She tells him that Griffith is attending a party with nobles and attempts to stop him from going, but the barely-conscious Guts pushes on anyway. Griffith is courting Charlotte near a fountain and Guts nearly approaches the two, but Casca chastises him for potentially embarrassing Griffith in front of the nobles that are the key to his promotion; still, she tears her shirt to help cover Guts's wounds. Guts catches part of Griffith's conversation, in which he foolishly tells Charlotte that he could never consider his soldiers friends as they have no ambition of their own, and that a true friend would never follow orders blindly. Guts, crushed by the realization that Griffith only sees him as a tool, slumps away in defeat while Griffith grins upon hearing the news that Julius and Adonis have been found dead. Casca, overhearing the announcement, takes a final look at the wounded Guts as she realizes what he's just done. The first film in the trilogy ends with the expressions on the three main characters' faces: ambition with Griffith, concern with Casca, and defeated contemplation with Guts.

Verdict

I'm always okay with more Berserk, but this first film left a bad impression. Many scenes are cut and battle scenes are seemingly extended. The battles themselves are drab and ugly, consisting mostly of bad CG and overhead shots of generic mounted combat. It feels like a failed attempt at cashing in on the Lord of the Rings high fantasy war story, but Berserk has never really been about this stuff. Sure, fighting in Berserk is some of the best you'll ever see in the medium, but the merit of this being a long-running manga series is that there are no real time restrictions. In translating the hectic, sprawling political movements to a movie that's barely over an hour much of the depth is entirely cut away, especially in terms of small character moments that drive the Golden Age arc. The audience at this point should deeply care about the main cast of the Hawks, but there's nothing really here to grow attached to other than the three main characters. This movie is clearly intended to catch up older viewers and close gaps left by the cliffhanger ending of the original anime, but that doesn't mean it has to be a bad movie in the first place. This should have either been its own television series or the movies themselves should have been longer, because for this film there's nothing the viewer can gain by not watching the original series. Even small hints at omitted details, such as the Donavon subplot, are cut away so drastically that what should have been a defining moment for Guts is instead relegated to a blurry picture with muffled voices that make no sense without context.

This is a hard movie to recommend, especially considering it ends on a cliffhanger and serves mostly to reacquaint the audience to the series before the new anime begins later this year. If you can, just read the manga. If not, go find the TV show. This first movie, at least, offers very little for a returning Berserk fan, and for a newcomer, you're missing out on some seriously good fantasy drama.