RJ Century

First, the movie does hold your attention and is certainly worth seeing. However, whoever wrote the script probably should do a little research and pay better attention to big and small details next time. I don't know many hospice facilities that let their patients ride around in a bus that says the name of the center including the word hospice. That not only is a HIPPA violation, but these patients generally aren't attending puppet shows in New York City they've run out of time. Lupita is a powerful presence as usual and a great actress, but her pizza fixation is comical and unrealistic even after it's explained. I also don't know why these lone surviving stallion women are always mean with poor social skills. If it truly is the end of the world would it kill you to say please and thank you? Her roommate is an intriguing young fellow and is constantly under water, but only occasionally looks wet. He also must love his suit because he doesn't take off his suit jacket and tie even while escaping aliens. The introduction of the aliens is not an everyday occurrence so it makes you wonder why after they invade not one character has the impetus to say anything about them or question why they showed up, what they want and how giant spiders can fly space ships. At the end of the movie I was still wondering how they kill people they just seemed to jump out of high rise apartments and chase them. The military flys around in helicopters making public service announcements and we see destroyed tanks but no warfare. They tell people to stay off the bridges, but head to the pier to catch the one lone pretty small rescue boat that by shear coincidence in the end happens to hold the family sitting in front of her at the puppet show. The clencher though was when in a crowd of hundreds of people nearly 90% of them had on the same muted colors clothes tan, blue and brown and around 60% had on the same kind of jean jacket with not a bright color shirt, pair of pants or dresses in sight. At least, next time hire a few costume designers everyone in New York City isn't buying their clothes at the same Walmart. That would be an even bigger tragedy.

The equivalent of spending days planning, shopping for and cooking a great meal for guest. Then ten minutes after they arrive you gather it all up, put it in a garbage bag and throw it off your deck down a hill. You then throw them plastic utensils and tell them to go down the hill and get their dinner. This dinner party would still make more sense and be more enjoyable than this film.

I just saw the movie and it definitely leaves you with an appreciation for Bob Marley's music and a deep sense of loss and despair over the fact that he left earth too soon and clearly had more brilliant music to make. Unfortunately, that's all it leaves you with. I didn't learn anything about the man I couldn't have learned sitting on his tour bus a couple of times. I suspect the most significant people in his life probably didn't know much more about him either. The movie was slow and empty. I was always waiting to learn more about who this man was, while the movie only concentrated on showing what this man did. More specifically how he got a record contract. Every well known musician got a record contract in much the same way so showing it five different ways isn't more entertaining. We have no idea about his childhood, his biological family, his many relationships, infidelity or even how his children felt about him and his absence in their lives. I heard someone in the audience say he had 12 kids I have no idea if it's true. How did he got so philosophical and fearless. He's shot in the movie and we have no idea why, who did it and how he struggled with life after it. Even his grief, anger and acceptance of his terminal illness is depicted over and over by him sitting by himself reading a book. I left the movie sad that the way he was depicted seemed to reflect a man with few real connections, little joy an overwhelming burden to be all things to all people. Before he was a great musician he was a great man. I wish the movie showed us how that happened.

I was excited to watch this story about a 20 something chameleon con artist who could convincingly morph into a one in a million icon with the charisma of Beyoncé, fashion sense of Lady Gaga, savvy of a KGB operative, sophistication of Michelle Obama and earning power of a sixth Kardashian sister. What I saw was an eighth grader named Anna who couldn’t decide what foreign language to take next year in High School so she tries using them all at the same time. An A list class nerd who would be asked for ID at a Chuck E. Cheese. The story was so slow and made even slower by the hyperbolic, overacting, unemployable journalist Vivian who kept having to be reminded she was pregnant and who was about as believable as Neff the Academy Award winning hotel attendant who never found a sentence she didn’t speak like she was singing and called herself a film maker though she never found it necessary to actually make a film. I never believed Anna’s lawyer could read, his wife ever met him, anyone ever got their hair done professionally, Anna could count to 100 much less hand them out like gum, the trial had anything to discover, a hotel would let you set up shop for months with a pay ya when I get outta the shower receipt, or Vivian’s baby was not taken by Child Protective Services immediately after birth. This series should force Netflix to give everyone who viewed it a $5.00 refund. Shonda you are so much better then this girl and Anna, I believe their is a prison somewhere in America with an inmate you can con to cut your hair into an actual style.