All Aboard!

STAND-ALONE

Issue 6: Interiors

This is arguably the best stand-alone issue of MTMTE to date, if only because the actual best issues can be found within different arcs. It spans the entire ship, but the meat of the story takes place inside a psychologist’s office. That’s right: there’s a robit psychologist. With enormous eyebrows. His name is Rung, and he’s great. If you’ve read Last Stand of the Wreckers (and you should), this issue will carry more weight. It’s something of an epilogue to that story, dealing with Fortress Maximus’ post-traumatic stress disorder. Also, we get a better glimpse into what exactly is wrong with that boy Whirl.

Issue 12: Before & After

This issue might as well be titled ‘gay robots,’ honestly. It deals with both official couple Rewind and Chromedome & fan pairing Tailgate and Cyclonus, in a way that never feels queerbait-y. These characters have genuine relationships, and play off each other in a meaningful way. It’s also a good look at the crew as a whole, and the issue’s gimmick (showing the events before & after the crew of the Lost Light raid a Decepticon outpost) is a fine break from the norm.

Issue 13: Cybertronian Homesick Blues

It’s a beach episode! Well, there’s no actual beach, and robots don’t need swimsuits, but Cybertronian Homesick Blues certainly fits the mold. The Lost Light has docked at a nearby planet, and the crew needs some R&R. There’s no real action in this issue, just some quiet character work. It’s emblematic of the best MTMTE has to offer: turning Swerve and Ultra Magnus (two of the series’ biggest jokes) into sympathetic figures. Yeah, there’s a mildly hamfisted Doctor Who reference, but it’s fairly inoffensive.

Issue 28: World, Shut Your Mouth Pt 1

Even though this issue starts off a new arc, said arc is more character-driven than anything else, and it’s an excellent place to jump on if you want to start reading regularly. Megatron is an Autobot, the crew has gone through some major changes, and it seems like author James Roberts is starting to finally play around with some plot points he seeded months ago. Think of this issue as the Season 2 premiere; that’s how Roberts is treating it.

STORIES

Issues 9-11: Shadowplay

The way I see it, ‘Shadowplay’ is a reference to two things: black-ops, behind-the-scenes-type skulduggery; and the act of Shadowplay (which is a neat concept that I won’t spoil for you). If you’re interested in the politics and corruption that infests the IDW Transformers universe -- or surprised that a Transformers comic would spend 3 issues on political assassination, then give ‘Shadowplay a read. There’s a heist and a fun little framing device. Everything a growing kid needs!

Issues 14-16: Remembrance Day; Under Cold Blue Stars; The Gloaming

There isn’t a definitive name for this arc, but it’s still a 3-part story in my book. It’s certainly a violent arc, and it’s a nice (“””nice”””) reminder that Roberts will just stomp all over your favorite characters if he so desires. It’s worth chewing through all the robot gore and unpleasant deaths just to reach the funeral issue. The “Overlord” arc is an excellent mix of violence, pathos, and humor. The “meta bomb” is a little too smart for its own good, but Swerve reading off the issue solicitation is a slice of fried gold.

Issues 17-21: Remain in Light

James Roberts has often said that he views the first 21 issues of MTMTE as a “first season” of sorts. If that’s the case (and it totally is), then ‘Remain in Light’ is the season finale. I honestly don’t want to get into why this arc is rad, but I will say it’s a perfect encapsulation of how seriously this comic takes itself. There’s racism, the thought police, some robo-gore, major revelations, a fundamentalist lunatic, and so much more! It’s just good, you guys.

Rainbow Six: Siege Hands-On Impressions

Despite (arguably) being a group of professionals, every single one of the attendees burst out with laughter and cheers when a match ended in a particularly entertaining way. Our last match ended with a tense, white-knuckle standoff between the last members of each team. This game is emblematic of the best that multiplayer gaming can embody, with a series of emergent anecdotes bolstered by plentiful explosions and friendly fire. Ubisoft’s faux-banter may not have been far off, I can easily see my friends and I getting way into this game.

Far Cry 4 Hands-On Impressions

Yes, from the folks who brought you Far Cry 3 comes Far Cry 3: Except Now With Elephants. Based on the stuff we’ve seen from the Ubisoft conference, it appears that all the iteration for this sequel comes in the storytelling department. The simple act of playing Far Cry 4 feels almost egregiously familiar, right down to the stealth that doesn’t quite work and illusion of choice that doesn’t quite work either.

Videos (Starring Mike)

Podcasts

Day Negative One

Day One

The Final Day

Videos (Edited by Mike)

The first Anchorman is one of those movies I just don’t “get.” I could chalk that up to my age or the hype that film has accrued over the years, but I’m also not particularly interested in picking apart something I don’t think I’ll ever understand. But I have no such problems with Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues. I know exactly why I don’t like this movie.

There are several fairly obvious jokes in the film, like when Ron Burgundy (Will Ferrell, but you already knew that) tries to lie to a character, but ends up telling the truth with the usual affectations you expect from a terrible liar. It’s a fun enough gag, but it’s almost immediately flattened by a character explaining the joke. “Ron, you’re telling the truth, but you sound like you’re lying,” he says as I roll my eyes. That may not be an exact quote, but it’s pretty accurate.

Or how about when Burgundy goes blind? “I masturbated a candlestick [or whatever it is, you get the idea] for hours before I noticed it wasn’t my penis!” he yells. “That doesn’t make any sense,” responds his wife. “You would’ve noticed it wasn’t your penis.” This joke happens three times, and it’s not the only time the movie does that kind of thing! It happens way too often! I mean, at no point did anyone involved with the screenplay posit the idea that having a character explain the joke is the one thing you should absolutely never do?

When a film’s only truly great moment is a callback to its predecessor, you know something went horribly wrong. Anchorman 2 isn’t terrible, but it’s astoundingly unfunny considering the sheer level of talent involved.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNGGG

I feel like The Call is the third most disappointing movie on this list. Not because of anything surrounding the film, like the other two. When you start watching The Call, it’s hard to keep yourself from wondering just why people didn’t like this movie. It’s a pretty fun low-budget thriller, with a well-worn premise executed fairly well, and a cast of protagonists that primarily consists of women. What’s not to enjoy?

Well, it’s like a Prince and the Pauper-esque switch. The good version of The Call plays out for about an hour, entertaining the audience right before the bad version of The Call shows up and ruins everything. What starts as a claustrophobic thriller becomes a god-awful serial killer movie. Like, bargain-bin, bottom of the Redbox, “I’ve somehow watched everything on Netflix so might as well watch this” awful. It certainly doesn’t help that the main characters start acting in ways that clash with their earlier motivations in addition to all known forms of logic.

Let me put it this way: of course Halle Barry was going to leave the 911 office and take matters into her own hands for a perfunctory action climax, but did that climax have to include her walking down unarmed into a secret basement full of scalps and incest?

Ahh, here’s the second most disappointing movie on the list. When I say “magic heists,” if your initial response isn’t positive, I don’t even want to know you. Now You See Me should’ve been a home run. A group of wacky Vegas magicians called the Four Horsemen robbing banks using prestidigitation is such a great idea! However, the movie instead focuses on Mark Ruffalo’s FBI agent -- whose name I can’t remember -- and uses the character to deliver some of the most obnoxious twists I’ve seen in years.

There’s only one real heist in the film, the characters don’t actually pull off the crimes themselves (they use some technology the fucking Magic Illuminati gave them), and so much of this movie is just Ruffalo chasing the Four Horsemen. It’s also really boring, which is astounding when you consider the ridiculous subject matter. Unless you want to rip your hair out from sheer confusion, maybe give this one a pass. 

The Host is the outlier on this list, in that I went into it expecting some hot garbage. And boy, did it deliver! 

Every creative decision was ill advised, right down to the chrome and uniformity of the evil aliens. C’mon, you guys should’ve known your target audience probably consists of SpongeBob fans. When you first saw the chrome car, was your first thought not immediately “Everything is chrome in the future!”

It’s also such an utterly vapid film. There is not a single interesting thought in this movie’s completely empty head. What is there to chew on? What does it want you to think about? I think I’ve been able to find some minor examples of symbolism in there, but I can’t imagine they were intentional on the part of the film’s creative team. 

Of course, none of what I just wrote matters one iota. You don’t even remember The Host. People who liked The Host don’t remember The Host. “Was that even this year?” says the teenage girl who saw that movie on opening day. Yes, teenage girl. It was. But I understand if you forgot, because so did everyone else.

Back in my Top 10 (which you totally read), I talked about Mud “getting” the challenges and emotions inherent to growing up. It lacked the bitterness these stories often attract. Case in point: The Way, Way Back.

Whenever The Way, Way Back spends its running time depicting the day to day goings-on in a waterpark, it’s a great comedy. It’s misogynistic at times, but there’s an underlying optimism that carries the whole thing. And then, when the setting changes to a beach house in Cape Cod, it becomes one of the worst coming of age movies I’ve ever seen.

Watching this utter trainwreck felt like being stuck at a party comprised entirely of people you hate. Just about all of the people orbiting the beach house come pre-loaded with some obnoxious quirk and buckets of abysmally written dialogue that made me want to rend my garments in sheer agony. Do people really talk like this: alternating between spewing unfunny jokes and expository dialogue? If so, please keep me far away from these vacationing pastel demons, lest I find comfort in the business end of a shotgun.

I cannot even begin to fathom how the guys behind 2011’s excellent The Descendants managed to waste both Steve Carell and Allison Janney. Allison fucking Janney! Neither puts in a bad performance, but their characters are nothing short of abysmal. Carell’s evil stepfather is almost like the Terminator in his single-minded desire to crush the spirit of young protagonist Duncan. There’s no humanity to his villainy, so he’s boring in addition to being obnoxious. And Janney -- you know, The West Wing’s C.J. fucking Cregg a.k.a. one of the best television characters of all time -- is just a loud alcoholic. Allison Janney can be hilarious, it’s just that she’s being used for a disposable role literally any warm body could’ve filled.

It’s easy to understand why people like The Way, Way Back. The waterpark stuff is funny and Steve Carell playing against type certainly holds some kind of value in and of itself. But man, did everybody just shut their eyes and plug their ears when Sam Rockwell wasn’t onscreen or something?

The Secret Life of Walter Mitty is such an utterly vapid film that I’m convinced it has no right to exist. I mean, holy crap if you thought The Host was empty, get a load of this hot garbage. Mitty’s arc is mostly complete by the end of the first act, so the audience can either leave the theater -- which is probably the right decision -- or slog through 90 minutes of dull jokes, pointless fantasies, and painfully inorganic product placement.

When I say “vapid,” maybe that’s not the right descriptor. The movie definitely tries to say things about the Human Condition™, but what it says can easily be found on a motivational poster of a cat hanging in there. And that would be fine if this was genuine, but the film is so goddamn smug. Apparently, if you’re shy and happy with your interesting job at one of the last bastions of print media, you’re not really living life, man! Not until you sign up for eHarmony while shoving some Cinnabon into your mouth!

If you want to know what it’s like to sit through The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, I can boil it down into two moments for you. First off, the first conversation in the film contains dialogue about how great eHarmony is. Second, Patton Oswalt appears in the movie as an eHarmony customer service rep. After the limp, unfulfilling emotional climax (which yes, I do know a thing or two about, before one of you comedians seizes on this opportunity), Oswalt takes the eponymous character to a Cinnabon where they talk about how incredible Cinnabon is. “That’s like frosted heroin, right there,” says Oswalt, eliciting scores of laughter from the easily amused Neanderthals that somehow wandered into a movie theater.

Both times, the movie grinds to a violent halt in order to sell the audience something. Product placement isn’t new, but the last time I saw anything this blunt was in Adam Sandler’s Jack and Jill: an abomination that wasn’t so much a movie as a vicious attack on both Western culture as a whole and the souls of those unfortunate enough to watch the worst thing ever created by a human. Whenever I compare a movie to Jack and Jill, said film must have done something really bad.

So, put all that together, add a dash of visually stunning cinematography, and you have a very good-looking waste of anybody’s time. Maybe this movie would’ve been lower on my list if I didn’t have to see it twice in the span of three days, but few things are quite as intellectually painful as sitting through a bad movie with people who are eating that shit up.

What…what happened? How is this movie as bad as it is? On paper, if you add everything up, right down to the setting, American Hustle should’ve been an easy win for everyone involved. I just don’t know what went horribly wrong, and I’ve hurt my brain trying to figure it out.

There are some bad movies that I could rant about for ages, but I don’t even want to when it comes to American Hustle. I wrote a review, and I’ve only soured on the film since then. Its major asset -- the performances -- actually work against the film when you stop and think about it. Although the lines are delivered superbly and everyone plays off each other quite well, the characters don’t feel consistent because they aren’t really characters. They’re actors messing around with a framework. There’s nothing quite wrong with that in a comedy like This Is the End or 21 Jump Street, but this movie isn’t a straight farce. It’s a caper that occasionally wants to be a serious movie. But I don’t know who these people are, so it’s difficult to care about them. 

There’s something pure about Pacific Rim. It’s childlike glee distilled: between the scope of the action scenes, the underlying optimism beating just below the film’s surface, and a total lack of shame. There’s no irony, nobody’s winking at the camera with a massive shit-eating grin. Pacific Rim is excited to share its bright, awesome world with you. It’s not childish, but it doesn’t take great pains to be “mature” either. This movie wants to put a smile on your face, and for me, that mission was a success.

Plus, they say “rocket punch” and then the robit does a rocket punch and there is nothing cooler than rocket punches.

So many coming of age tales focus on the wrong aspects of growing up. They’re usually bitter and antagonistic, only to suddenly chuck a heartwarming conclusion at the audience in the third act. Mud is smarter than that. It uses both the framework of a fairytale and parallel storylines to warm the audience’s heart while still managing to keep their interest.

At times, it feels like someone poured molasses all over the screen. Even when nothing of interest is happening, director Jeff Nichols crafts a visually rich world that burrows into your memory and refuses to leave. The way the characters speak feel natural, like some real Southern people have been trapped in this movie a la Pleasantville. Nichols “gets” the south, portraying a world that feels authentic without resorting to all the wrong redneck stereotypes. Sure, Ellis’ (the protagonist, played quite well by Tye Sheridan) dad is a blue-collar workingman who clings to a dingy houseboat in the swamp, but he’s sympathetic. This life may be rough and unclean, but it’s the only life he knows.

This is all without getting into Matthew McConaughey’s performance as the titular character. You’re probably hearing the words ‘Dallas Buyer’s Club’ a lot right now, but this is the role people should be talking about. Mud is Peter Pan with a pistol, trapped in an emotionally unfulfilling relationship. You want to see him succeed in his quest, even as you begin to realize what that would mean for the character.

But perhaps the best part of Mud is the humanity. Mud’s capricious girlfriend doesn’t quite know what she wants, and that’s portrayed as understandable…to an extent. A lesser film would’ve portrayed her as the villain, not a real person. Even the villain (played by Joe Don Baker, remember him?) goes beyond the oil salesman stereotype. When he cries, it’s clear what a pitiful figure he is. Mud is ultimately one of 2013’s sweetest movies…and you wouldn’t know it from the poster.

Furious 6 opens with a charmingly ridiculous rap song played over clips from the previous movies. So, it starts as it means to go on.

Yeah, it’s a little disingenuous to both praise Pacific Rim for its lack of irony and praise Furious 6 with the slightest hint of irony, but the latest Fast and Furious movie is honestly one of 2013’s best action flicks.

It’s a character-driven action movie, which you don’t see very much outside of the superhero circuit. Every time a fight happens, you genuinely worry about the fate of the characters. That’s not the primary reason it’s on this list. No, Furious 6 is on here because it reminds me of Pacific Rim in many ways, except executed a little more successfully. The optimism is here, but on a smaller scale: instead of humanity coming together to kill Godzilla, a ragtag “family” of criminals comes together to kill worse criminals. Since these are well-established characters, the sentimentality carries more weight.

Furious 6 cuts the setup and get right to the action. Even Vin Diesel’s character arc is quick, not to the level of his Charger, but the character moments know their place. So after everyone is done talking, it’s time for cars to go fast. In Furious 6, Justin Lin has polished his vehicular action scenes to a mirror shine. My jaw hit the floor multiple times during this movie; the level of imagination on display here is nothing short of spectacular. More action movies like this, please.

Make no mistake; The Place Beyond the Pines is long, extremely fragmented, often inconsistent, and too convinced of its own self-importance. But as a guy who doesn’t get along with his father, it spoke to me on a personal level. And, for all the things it does wrong, it does just as many things correctly. The highs are brilliant, the lows merely irritating.

It begins with Ryan Gosling, a circus performer and new father staring down the barrel of adult responsibilities. He deals with this new development in just the manner you’d expect from a man who tries to kill himself for a living: bank robbery. However, during one of his solo heists, it all goes wrong and he’s killed by a beat cop (Bradley Cooper)…at which point the movie becomes a story of corruption. Then, after Cooper rises to the top, the movie skips ahead and follows both Gosling and Cooper’s children. Each segment is well executed, with memorable character arcs, and a scope that conveys the feeling of following two different families throughout the darkest parts of their lives.

I often wonder if The Place Beyond the Pines would be on this list if I had a good relationship with my father, but this film aims for a particular message and tone, hitting that mark with aplomb. It manages to convey Big Ideas™ without feeling pretentious. So many films these days want to be smart, but lack the ambition to follow that up. It may have flaws, but The Place Beyond the Pines certainly doesn’t lack for ambition.

Let me assuage your fears: Frozen is not the horrible kiddie flick you probably think it is. Beneath the slimy veneer of terrible marketing lies a clever deconstruction of the Disney Princess genre, and probably one of the most entertaining animated movies I’ve seen in a while.

You know Olaf? That dumb snowman you’ve seen in all the ads? He’s probably the best part of an already superb film. Josh Gad’s comedic timing is impeccable, with otherwise funny lines delivered with the raw talent of a seasoned voice actor. Olaf’s snowy body is used well, resulting in some really sharp visual gags. He only really comes into play during the climax, and is otherwise a little perfunctory, but he’s just so damn funny.

The rest of the movie is pretty great too, but aside from the visually striking and emotionally resonant Let It Go sequence, Olaf is what I kept coming back to. That’s not an insult by any stretch! It’s just emblematic of Frozen in general: not only better than you’d expect, but genuinely special in its own right. The way it affectionately picks apart the classic Disney Princess genre feels like the House of Mouse rethinking the way it approaches gender politics, and if this is the way Disney romance will be handled going forward, it’s a bright spot for children of the future.

It is a bit front-loaded, and feels like it’s missing a finale song (the last song in the movie is quite mediocre), but what music is there absolutely delivers. Let It Go is the song from Frozen, with good reason. It’s a call for brazen individuality, and if you’ve been unlucky enough to spend any time with me in person, you should know why I’m way into that message. Frozen’s characters are fun, its tunes memorable, and its animation simply inspired. Like I said, if this is what we can expect from Disney in the future, we’re all in for some real treats. And how about that twist?

Trying to make a case for the Marvel Cinematic Universe post-Avengers must’ve been quite the arduous experience. But director Shane Black managed to do it all the same with the delightful Iron Man 3. It’s smart, extremely well paced, and possibly the best Marvel film to date. For one, it’s the rare blockbuster that understands how to communicate both development and conflict through visuals and action.

The final clash between the Extremis soldiers and Tony Stark’s armor army certainly lacks individual stakes, but what the battle means for Killian and Stark -- both immediately and in terms of their characters -- carries the fight. Two rich, powerful geniuses are throwing the literal form of their respective obsessions at each other, and the result is an explosion-fest that actually means something more than “ha ha, that thing blew up.” Iron Man 3’s focus on Stark as a character results in a more interesting superhero movie. The world post-Avengers is compelling, but the man post-Avengers is even moreso.

It also subverts quite a few obnoxious genre conventions, like the adorable kid sidekick. Yes, the obvious connection between Stark and the kid is a nice touch, but the aggressively dismissive attitude Stark displays towards the kid is nothing short of delightful. Even the Damsel in Distress trope is played with a little, although not to the level I would’ve liked.

And this is all without getting to the visceral qualities of the action. Every scene has a really neat moment that speaks to the inventiveness of this genre at its best. The scene where Stark fights the goons using only a repulsor glove, a rocket boot, and an Uzi is a particular standout, but the film’s excellent use of tracking shots during fight scenes goes a long way.

Iron Man 3 isn’t the most intelligent blockbuster I’ve ever seen, but it’s smart enough to stand proudly above the pack. Yeah, there are plot holes, and yeah Stark blowing up all his suits rubbed some people the wrong way. But if you didn’t “get” why he did that, then maybe you didn’t get the whole thing. And that’s okay! More for me, then.

In an industry where 90-minute films can feel like an eternity of torture, it takes a very talented director to make three hours absolutely melt away. By the time Martin Scorsese is finished showing people half his age how it’s done with The Wolf of Wall Street, you’ll wonder if making great movies really is that easy.

A lot of people are angry that The Wolf of Wall Street depicts an almost frightening level of debauchery, but that’s part of what makes it special. This film drenches itself in excess, knowing there will be two kinds of people who respond to this movie: those who look at protagonist Jordan Belfort’s lifestyle as a cautionary tale about the dangers of addiction, and those who aspire to be Jordan Belfort.

Wolf caters to both. The first camp gets to see what a piece of shit Belfort really is during intense moments of stress, and the second camp is actually in the movie. The employees of Belfort’s investment company are so taken in by his crap (although to be fair, so is he to a certain extent) that they can’t see the man for who he really is.

Everything in The Wolf of Wall Street is just great, but the reason it’s not higher on the list is because there’s nothing particularly new about it. It will be remembered for the sheer level of quality, not for any risks or unique ideas. But when said level of quality is through the roof, that’s not a bad thing.

Side Effects successfully does what The Place Beyond the Pines tries to do. It’s three different movies: it starts as a drama about the psychological treatments we seek to cure our depression, turns into a murder mystery, and ends as a low-key caper, switching between each genre with a subtle gear shift.

Each is treated with an extra level of director Steven Soderbergh’s trademark detachment. It all still feels ridiculous, but the contrast between the cold visual style and the overwrought drama results in a film that had me leaning forward with intrigue. And it was hard to keep myself from clapping with delight as everything came together in the final moments. Soderbergh clearly took the right lessons from his Ocean’s trilogy in making Side Effects.

Put simply, if you want to see a drama, a murder mystery, and a caper -- all compelling enough to carry their own movie -- put through the same filter Soderbergh used for Contagion, I have exactly the cure for you.

If you’ve ever listened to my podcast, Video Game Choo Choo, you know how much I love movies that play with the conventions of their own genres. The Cabin in the Woods took apart every aspect of the supernatural horror genre, to great success. Now, the home invasion movie has its own Cabin in the Woods with You’re Next. It’s not quite as bombastic as Cabin, but it’s just as smart. 

For 30 minutes, You’re Next is a family dramady. It’s as indie as indie movies get, with quick, naturalistic dialogue and clear setups for character arcs. And then an arrow goes through somebody’s brain. You’re Next’s genre shift isn’t quite as pronounced as some of the other movies on this list, but there is a significant change. It goes from drama to horror movie to dark comedy, all with about as much grace as you can get from a movie where an axe murderer is violently bludgeoned to death. By the way, said bludgeoning? Hilarious.

The dark comedy is omnipresent, but you can definitely see the moment where it goes into full on “adult Home Alone” mode. Of all the movies on this list, this one practically demands a certain mindset. It’s almost like Scary Movie done correctly. Subtract all the pointless cameos and references, and Scary Movie is all about classic horror scenes redone for comic effect. Of course, that franchise’s idea of redoing classic horror scenes is adding fart noises, whereas You’re Next approaches the idea with a more delicate touch.

Look, I know Scary Movie isn’t the best comparison, but it’s the one I keep coming back to. You’re Next’s humor comes from within, as opposed to stealing gags from other movies. And their respective tones couldn’t be any more different.

I’m really not selling you on this movie. I know that. But You’re Next is just damn good. In addition to putting The Strangers and Home Alone into a blender, You’re Next is also one of the best female empowerment action movies to come along in years. It’s a thoughtful meditation on theatricality and family relations, but it’s also a movie where a badass Australian lady kills everyone.

I don’t drink. This doesn't come from a place of moral superiority, just a place of fear. I can’t help but worry that -- looking at my extended family -- my chances of becoming addicted to controlled substances is quite high. And my social circle wasn’t exactly huge back home, so I usually hung out with people who drink in moderation. But ever since going off to college, that’s changed. Each weekend, I start worrying about people I’ve come to genuinely care for. One weekend, I literally turned my dorm room into a place where people could drop by, get some water and bread, and decompress.

I was up until 4 A.M. doing this.

The first time I saw The World’s End, I didn’t have the experience necessary to “get” what Edgar Wright and Simon Pegg were going for. I took most of it at face value. In all fairness, “face value” for an Edgar Wright joint usually means a stellar movie. If you don’t want to bring something of yourself to the table, you’ll at least get some really fun action and side-splitting jokes out of the film. The World’s End, even if I hadn’t bothered to come back to it after a semester at college, would’ve probably been very high on this list. Maybe it would’ve been #1! But it would’ve been at the top for different reasons.

The World’s End stands proudly at the top of my utterly meaningless Top 10 Movies of 2013 list because A) it’s utterly spectacular and B) it now holds a significant amount of meaning for me. I see people in what I can only guess are the early stages of alcoholism, and I sympathize with Andy Knightley (Nick Frost, in what I hope will go down as one of film’s greatest examples of playing against type. Simon Pegg’s performance as Gary King is layered, compelling, and just about everything you’d want from an alcoholic in a sci-fi comedy about alcoholism.

King’s relationship with his Knight took on a whole other meaning for me. At time of writing, I’m very good friends with people who are probably addicted to drugs and booze. Hell, there were even times when I developed romantic feelings for people who drink a little more than they should. And The World’s End even seemed to get why that was the case. But all the same, it still put its hand on my shoulder and gently shook its head. It not only waxes cautionary about the long-term effects of addiction, but also is sympathetic towards the addicted person’s friends. I don’t mean to imply any of my friends are on the level of a Gary King, but scale down everything about The World’s End and you’ve got a good idea of how some of my Friday nights went.

The World’s End also deftly handles other Big Ideas like conformity, futurism, personal demons, friendship, and sobriety, all within the confines of its character arcs. Wright and Pegg should be proud of what they’ve written here. I saw many comedies this year, but none of them were as consistently hilarious as The World’s End.

The direction is also quick-witted, especially when it comes time to punch some robots. Similarly to how Soderbergh took the right lessons from Contagion to make Side Effects feel detached, Wright learned quite a bit from his time working on Scott Pilgrim VS The World. Not that his action scenes were even in the realm of “bad” in Shaun of the Dead or Hot Fuzz (especially the latter, since it was deliberately evoking choppy action movies like Bad Boys), but this appears to be his style going forwards. The fights have an almost effortless flow to them, with some really inventive beats lining the margins and rewarding multiple watches. 

Even if you don’t bring something to The World’s End -- which you probably do, it’s a movie about alcoholism, but let me play devil’s advocate for a second -- you will most likely get something from its secondary themes. If you want to chew on the idea that our blind rush towards the future isn’t as bad as old people make it out to be, you can most certainly find that here. Or hey, maybe you want a really good sci-fi comedy. But the meat of The World’s End lies in the interplay between Gary King and his friends, specifically Andy Knightley. I’ve been in Andy’s position, and I’m genuinely dreading the day when this movie becomes my reality (minus the sci-fi elements, before some tool comments on this). You may not like what The World’s End has to say, but maybe that doesn’t matter. Maybe you need to hear it. Maybe it’ll help.

Act Two: Murder Mystery