6/28/17 - Bad Batch - 4+/10

This was a film that I had high hopes for and tried to embrace, but felt a distinct and unerring aura of dissatisfaction haunting throughout. It pushed me to the edge while also making me bite-the-bit, as it pulled up so hard… You know what this film is, it is Tommy Lee Jones in Batman Forever. In that ill-fated mess, Jones belabored the classic Batman villain Two-face in the most neon slathered and burnt end crusty caricature there has ever been. Nothing could be subtle or tortured out, everything was as in your face and cartoon-level nuanced as possible. It was too much and did not work, despite TLJ embracing the camp. Bad Batch is just as loud and just as stylistically combative.

Bombastic is the word, in all senses. It’s raucous and histrionic all over:

·         Sound design - There is such a drastic gulf from the quiet dialogue to the booming music. Though I think some of that comes from the director being a little hard of hearing, as an audience member it was overbearing.

·         Emotion- There are the Jekyll & Hyde juxtapositions of extreme intensity and drifting/ lacking emptiness within in each morphing emotional beat. Things feel both lively and stagnant, but always a timid indecision.

·         Plot – Such a vibrant setup to a world, character, and an eschatological flavor dealing with current socio-politics. But that is paired with an innate quizzical meandering and, though a fatalistic nihilism is cozied up to, a story that never bothers itself with a question of meaning or sense. This isn’t quite Jodorowsky fanciful symbolism, but a dusty empty valley of esoteric ambivalence.

I conceptually adore what it thought about being, but it was too much like an extended journey through Bartertown, but without a serviceable point or logical conclusion. There were interesting things to see and stories that could be told, but what is the point & point-of-view. It is amazing, but certainly doesn’t help, that every character is frustratingly one-note and mysteriously complex simultaneously. I wanted to "get" Waterhouse's "Arlen", Momoa's "Miami Man", and Keanu's "The Dream", but I was always kept at arm's length. Even the enigmatic Jim Carrey, Giovanni Ribisi and little "Mad Max feral boy-esque" Honey were like grasping fascinating sand. Perhaps it is the distinct lack of explanation or answers that makes them both magnetic and maddening. 

It did look good and there was a natural empathetic thread to be pulled. Unfortunately, the fun and biting nature of the feature gives way to the bleak and jarring. Just didn’t quite work for me.