I saw Godzilla earlier this week and have thought about it on my own precisely zero times since then. Gareth Edwards' take on the classic is as great-looking as it is dumb. It conveys enormity extremely well, as well should a movie that stars monsters who dwarf skyscrapers. For all of his twitching, nostril-flaring, and saliva-string-producing, Godzilla has never looked more life-like (or zaftig—check out that thick neck, bro). His nemeses, a pair of giant cockroaches called MUTOs, looked real enough to mildly nauseate me.
I was once like you. I didn't think we needed another Spider-Man origin story, especially one that comes so soon after the perfectly serviceable last one. Sam Raimi's Spider-Man came out just 10 years ago and kicked off the trend of sensitive, thoughtful superhero fare that the film's parent company has undone with recent entries like the boneheaded Thor, the brain dead Captain America and the overrated but ultimately rewarding The Avengers. If we don't need another hero, we certainly don't need the same one twice.
Banksy: millionaire street artist, fierce cultural critic, celebrity darling of the art world. The man's prestige has been immeasurably enhanced by his anonymity. He insists on it, and it gives him an air of mystery that only increases his allure to the media, fans, and collectors alike. An alleged photo of him was widely circulated last year, but it certainly didn't result in his real name being printed in his omnipresent media coverage. Those in his inner circle insist on strict concealment of his identity. Theories, of course, abound. But today, Bucky Turco at Animal NY believes he's stumbled upon Banksy's true identity. Combined with some corroborating evidence we got ourselves, the case is plausible—though far from proven. Now this would be big news:
We're nothing if not suckers for a nice feel-good story, especially when it's accompanied by a fun chart where Spider-Man scales a pillar representing the obscene amounts of money some of our favorite movie studios are making: With four different films crossing the $300 million mark, Hollywood is enjoying its Best Summer Ever, a period of prosperity that is erasing all memory of that nasty, alleged "Slump" of 2005, when executives were forced to answer all kinds of rude questions about why their shitty product wasn't selling. During this new Golden Age of Very Profitable Threequels, they instead get to crow about how smart they are in the pages of Variety: