Film

Recently old tweets (2008-2009) by James Gunn, writer and director of 'Guardians of the Galaxy' came to light and Disney fired him from completing the third in film in the series. The tweets contained "jokes" about pedophilia and rape, obviously inappropriate and not in line with Disney's ethos. Also in light of the recent Hollywood abuse allegations the industry is quite sensitive about such things.

However, the question here is a little muddled, as obviously Gunn has apologised, but not only recently, but previously. He has responded previously to his early career behaviours and has also called himself out over the years for aspects of his "humour." How genuine this is, is of course difficult to gauge. Yet the question remains, how much of a person's past actions should they be punished for? What behaviours are completely inappropriate (sexual abuse, etc.) and what is the work of youthful foolishness? I am still on the fence concerning Gunn myself, but I think in an era of calling for greater repercussions in Hollywood for actions we do need to talk about the lines. Because there is the risk of making every controversial action anathema, which is also not socially healthy as criticism and challenges are what help drive change.

In both the world of television and movie old classics (whether it be movie to movie adaptations, movie to TV, or literature to movie) have been given a new breath of life. Some of these reboots have been successful such as Riverdale, Lethal Weapon, Gossip Girl, Vampire Diaries, 90210 and Pretty Little Liars, Star Trek, Chris Nolan's Batman Trilogy. While others have not been so successful such as Baywatch, Knight Rider, Charlie's Angels, Power Rangers, Robocop, Fantastic Four, TMNT. Why is that some of these Television and Movie reboots fair better than others and what could've been done to turn the not so successful into a success.

It is no surprise that time travel has been used in so many films. The use of time travel in film, as well as in television and books, has allowed for interesting scenarios for characters. It is also a means for the protagonist to gain a second chance or prevent a horrific event from happening.For example, X-Men: Days of Future Past uses time travel in this way. The writers used time travel not only for the benefit of the characters, but also for the writers themselves. They were able to change everything from the previous films just by this one plot device. While the film was a hit, and many fans welcomed the changes caused by the film, others argued that it could lower the stakes in other films in the franchise. If something horrible happens in a film, and time travel is force existing in the film's universe, then the protagonist can go back in time as a means to prevent the event from happening. But does this create more complications?

Analyse and discuss the idea of an "antagonist" without desire, as seen in Alex Garland's Annihilation. The alien being seen in the film is described as "not wanting anything" and displays strange mimicking behaviour, only reacting to the actions of others. However, its arrival heralds the imminent destruction of life on Earth. How can one reason with such a being? How can you relate to an antagonist that has no desire? How does this lack of motivation affect the characters' actions? How does it affect the viewers' reactions?

The year 1960 saw the release of George Pal's imaginative production of H.G.Wells' 'The Time Machine', considered by many to be a classic. At the end of the film, the main character 'George' returns to the distant future to help the newly liberated yet child-like Eloi build a new society, taking just three books with him to aid his venture. As his friend comments to another character '…which three would you have taken?'. Considering the wealth of knowledge we have access to in the 21st Century, which three books (factual or fiction) would you choose and, more importantly, why?

The 90'c classic 'Clueless' is one of my favourite re-watchable movies. However, the more I watch it, the more questions I have regarding the plot. What was the point – was it to follow Tai's journey to a new school, was it to follow Cher's love life, was it to watch Mr Hall and Ms Geist's romance blossom? The multiple storylines aren't overly complicated and all seem resolved in the end, but it just leaves me wondering. I doubt I'm putting too much thought into a movie that can blame this mess on being out-dated, as we saw Iggy Azalea's imitation of the film in her 'Fancy' film clip in 2014 and the world was shocked by the film's Brittany Murphy's 2009 death. Was this simply the style of a fun 90's film, or for that matter the comedy genre – to fill it with multiple storylines in order to keep it fun, light and entertaining? And if so, why is this plot-messy classic the one we still remember today?

Recently, the producers of 'Solo' announced that the character of Lando, played by Donald Glover, is pansexual. However, this is never explicit in the film and certainly, the word 'pansexual' is never said. The LGBTIQ community has responded to this with much criticism, arguing that this doesn't count as proper representation because not everyone who watches this film will pick up on Lando's queerness and as such, not everyone will be able to relate to him in this way. This is very similar to the controversy surrounding JK Rowling announcing that Dumbledore is gay, even though it is never clear in the Harry Potter books and even though the producers of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them have said that they are going to erase this part of Dumbledore's character. This then raises the question of what is 'representation' and what is good or harmful 'representation'?

Those who watched Obama's Nelson Mandela Lecture (17/07/18) on YouTube may have noticed the added dimension of an adjacent comment section scrolling in real-time alongside the event — the medium being the message, and all that rot. One thing that I could not help noticing among the barrage of nonsense assaulting my peripheral vision was the frequency of comments saying something to the effect of "Wakanada forever," "Is this Wakanda?," or even just the single word, "WAKANDA." Evidently, the mere presence of an African setting is enough to be immediately equated with Black Panther's residual impact on the popular imagination's impression of the entire continent.

Though it may be difficult to discern whether this is the result of true malice or simple ignorance, there is certainly something to be said about the co-opting of the fictional nation to become a vehicle for such regressive discourse. Given that Black Panther has been unilaterally received as a moment of progress for African American filmmaking and Black culture in general, attention must also be given the unfortunate consequences of its omnipresence, particularly as it has been received by white (and especially conservative) audiences throughout the West.

This article should examine the subtle process by which the film's iconography has acquired these less-than-favourable connotations, and what that may mean for its continued existence in this highly fractured media landscape. Does this fallout in any way negate the film's thematic emphases on the legacy of colonialism and globalization vs. isolationism? In a real-world political climate wherein an American president refers to Africa as being comprised of "shit-hole countries," does the mass exposure received by a fictional Afro-Futurist utopia serve as a genuine antidote to these misconceptions? Where is the line between empowerment and sophistry? What impact might this cross-pollination between popular culture and current politics have on the advancement of the latter, as Obama's lecture was undeniably meant to represent?