Justice League MOVIE Discussion (The SynderCut Drops 3/18/2021)

Zack Snyder Admits Joss Whedon's Justice League Is Canon for DC Universe
By MATTHEW AGUILAR - March 11, 2021 10:21 am EST


Zack Snyder's Justice League is right around the corner, hitting HBO Max later this month, and when fans finally see it they will get an idea of how things would've played out if Snyder had continued to helm the DC cinematic universe after Justice League. While fans are excited to see Snyder's expanded vision for Justice League and part of what he had planned for the sequel in the new cut, this version isn't expected to become the default version of the DC movie universe afterward, at least according to Snyder, who was asked in an interview with the DC Cinematic Cast about how his Justice League fits in the canon of DC movies (via The Direct).


"It'll be an interesting. It's interesting, sort of in the DCEU, or whatever it's become, that that trilogy (comprised of Man of Steel, Batman v Superman, Justice League) sort of insulates itself in some ways it becomes, like, it's its own thing now. And it doesn't really rely on, you know... And I said, I famously said, and it's true, this is not saying anything, this isn't controversial... But you know, Warner Bros, is it, that this film, my Justice League, is not canon, right? Canon for Warner Bros. is the Joss Whedon version of Justice League, right? That's, in their mind, that's canon. And what I'm doing is not. Everything is not. So it's just an interesting, that relationship," Snyder said. "And I'm fine with it because I feel like the only way that I could have made this film with autonomy was because of that, because of me admitting and agreeing to the fact that it is not canon."

Fans who have pushed for Snyder's version of the film to see the light of day will likely be disappointed by that news, and Snyder gets it.


"I understand the frustration... If someone was frustrated by that concept, I wouldn't say don't be frustrated by it. It's fine to be frustrated by it, I'm frustrated by it. So I would only say, though, that there is a different... The grander, greater concept for the DCEU is on another road... And there's nothing I can do about that. That is just, it is what it is. It's not my decision," Snyder said.
 
The Flash: Kiersey Clemons Confirmed To Star As Iris West
By KOFI OUTLAW - March 11, 2021 01:26 pm EST

kiersey-clemons-dc-the-flash-movie-iris-west-confirmed-1260166.jpeg



Score one for all those Zack Snyder's Justice League and/or #RestoreTheSnyderverse fans out there: actress Keirsey Clemons is confirmed to star as Iris West in The Flash movie. The report comes from THR who got the exclusive word that Clemons has signed on with Warner Bros. and Flash director Andy Muschietti (IT) to play the love interest of Barry Allen/The Flash (Ezra Miller). Clemons made her debut as Iris in Zack Snyder's original cut of Justice League but saw her role cut from Joss Whedon's theatrical cut of the film. Fans will finally get to see her performance when Zack Snyder's Justice League debuts on HBO Max next week.


The Flash movie has quickly become a big multiverse event film for DC and Warner Bros. The film will see Michael Keaton return as Batman (the mentor to Ezra Miller's Flash) while also featuring Ben Affleck's Batman. Sasha Calle will play a new version of Supergirl in the film, The Flash concept art has further teased the kind of multiverse action and adventure DC fans are in for. According to Andy Muschietti, the film "will take you to a place where the DC Universe hasn't gone before, so it's very exciting."

The Flash is being looked at as the film that can finally put DC/WB's current continuity troubles to rest. The studio's interruption of Zack Snyder's vision for Justice League threw the proposed future for the DC Films Universe completely off track. Films like Aquaman, Shazam!, and Wonder Woman 1984 seem to be part of a post-Snyder DC universe, but now Zack Snyder's Justice League is back, bringing a lot of questions about what the future of the franchise looks like - and who will star in it.


The Flash will see the titular running across an entire DC multiverse (and causing some disastrous butterfly effect) and by the end, it seems as though any and every DC movie will be labeled as "official" parts of continuity:

READ MOREThe Falcon and the Winter Soldier’s Anthony MackieReveals Which Movie Helped Him Enter The MCU

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"This movie is a bit of a hinge in the sense that it presents a story that implies a unified universe where all the cinematic iterations that we've seen before are valid," Muschietti previously explained to Vanity Fair. "It's inclusive in the sense that it is saying all that you've seen exists, and everything that you will see exists, in the same unified multiverse."


The Flash is scheduled to begin filming in early 2021 for a theatrical release on November 4, 2022.
 
Dont get it twisted...i thought Justice League was decent.

Many people felt it was bad...if the same folks think this release is just a longer version of suck...

...what then?
 
Hope Snyder's cut redeems The Flash. The DCU Flash is what I hated the most about JL. He's a dork and awkward. Every version I've ever seen or read of Flash he's cocky, confident and quick witted. Hope that Wedon is the reason the DECU Flash was trash.
 
The Snyder Cut of Justice League Contains the Best and Worst of Zack Snyder
By Bilge Ebiri

1c17c5ea9e1f66e5fac9d088f2333537b7-justice-league-2.rhorizontal.w700.jpg


Jason Momoa, Gal Gadot, and Ray Fisher in Zack Snyder’s Justice League. Photo: HBO Max

Zack Snyder might be the modern action director who would have felt most at home in the silent era. Not necessarily because he’s a visual storyteller — though he is that, at times — but because of his heartfelt fondness for big, simple emotions. The much-mocked “Martha!” climax of Batman v Superman, wherein Batman (Ben Affleck) and Superman (Henry Cavill) stopped fighting when they realized their moms had the same name, is a moment of pure, unabashed melodrama that could have easily shown up in a classic Lillian Gish picture. (That line itself — “Martha!” — would work so much better as an intertitle than as actual dialogue.) This is one of the charms of Snyder’s work, and it’s one of the charms of Zack Snyder’s Justice League, a.k.a. “the Snyder Cut,” which is itself now a myth made real, an abandoned piece of the past suddenly come back to life on HBO Max. Not unlike, well, something out of a Zack Snyder movie.

But you have to take the good with the bad. The Snyder Cut sprawls, and it scatters, and it loses itself in storylines. The film is a back-breaking four hours and two minutes long (in contrast to the compromised, two-hour 2017 theatrical release version of Justice League, which was heavily reshot and reedited by the now-disgraced Joss Whedon), and it should probably be three. There are times when you’re convinced it’s entering the final act, only to realize there are still more than two hours to go. But lose all these melodramatic curlicues and oversized narrative distractions, and you’d lose what makes the film special. There, in its great, glorious bloat, lies the movie’s heart.



Take one example. Early on, we’re introduced to one of our heroes, Cyborg, a.k.a. Victor Stone (Ray Fisher), through a long series of flashbacks that begins with him standing at a window, looking out at a group of kids playing football in the street and remembering his own days as a star college quarterback. We see him dodging tackles and running and scoring (all in slow motion, naturally) as the crowd cheers. Amid the celebration, he spies in the stands an empty seat next to his mother: the seat where his workaholic scientist father (Joe Morton) should have been. Then we cut to Victor arguing with his mom in the car on the way home about his dad’s not being there. During their argument, Mom takes her eyes off the road, and sure enough, another car crashes into them. Cut to the hospital. Mom is dead, and a comatose Victor is about to die. His grieving, desperate father decides to rebuild him; we are now in the dad’s flashback, as Snyder continues to stack tragedy upon tragedy.


Not long after that series of flashbacks, Cyborg, who has the power to control all the world’s machines and electronic systems, sees a kindly waitress and single mom struggling to make ends meet. (We know this because he watches her, through security-cam footage beamed into his brain, as she gives money to a street busker and then sorrowfully mulls a box of food at the supermarket before putting it back on the shelf.) He sees her get evicted from her apartment. He sees that she only has ten dollars in the bank. With a simple wave of his hands, he adds $100,000 to her ATM balance. The technology might be modern, but the sensibility here is straight out of Dickens.

Cyborg’s narrative in the theatrical release of Justice League was frustratingly abbreviated; there was a moving father-son dynamic, but clearly, much of the character had been left on the cutting-room floor. (Full disclosure: I didn’t hate the theatrical release of Justice League. It was a mess, to be sure, but the mix of Snyderian sincerity and Whedonian irony occasionally worked for me.)

The Snyder Cut restores Cyborg’s storyline in all its earnest, melancholy glory. You can understand why length-concerned executives might have wanted it gone. These are broad, basic emotions — too broad and basic, perhaps, for even your average superhero spectacle — and they eat acres of screen time. But it’s also the best stuff in the film. Snyder thinks his work is unremittingly dark and edgy and twisted — “I would rather fuck you up in a movie than make it nice and pretty for everybody,” he recently told the New York Times — but what’s most striking about the Snyder Cut is its innocence, its almost embarrassing (and often adorable) emotional purity.

Meanwhile, the actual story of Justice League — the one about yet another alien invasion of Earth, and yet another bad guy from beyond trying to obtain yet another series of magic objects — is its least interesting part. One might even argue that it’s even less interesting today than it might have been in 2017, since the film’s overvillain, Darkseid (who was mostly absent from the earlier cut), bears more than a passing resemblance to Marvel’s Thanos, the chief antagonist of the most recent Avengers cycle. In the comics world, of course, Thanos was something of a Darkseid ripoff. (We could argue about this all day.)

Much of the fighting in Justice League still occurs against Darkseid’s emissary, the disgraced intergalactic demon Steppenwolf (Ciaran Hinds, even more unrecognizable here than he was in the earlier cut). This new version of the film makes Steppenwolf’s plans clearer; elaborates on his complicated relationship with Darkseid; and sets up a whole other thing that Darkseid wants (the “anti-life equation,” which doesn’t sound very nice at all) and would have presumably attempted to seize in an eventual, now evidently aborted sequel. It’s all apparently in the comics. I can’t say that I cared for any of it.

In truth, I’ve never been the world’s biggest Zack Snyder fan. His work can be moving, but it’s often undone by his ponderous, overbaked, slow motion- and CGI-heavy style. (I vastly prefer the more anxious, less reverential Christopher Nolan school of grimdark superhero cinema, which is probably why my favorite Snyder title is still Man of Steel.) And the Snyder Cut might be the slo-mo-iest, CGI-iest entry in the man’s oeuvre. It opens with an absurdly long, lightning bolt–filled sequence showing the literal shockwaves sent across the planet and universe by Superman’s death at the end of Batman v Superman. While this does relate to later developments in the new film (and is thus not entirely pointless), it’s still total overkill.
Snyder doesn’t seem to have an evocative or nuanced bone in his body. Why should he give us a mere glimpse of Nordic townsfolk mournfully singing as Aquaman (Jason Momoa) returns to the sea, when he can give us the whole song? Why simply show us the “arrow of Artemis” that Queen Hippolyta (Connie Nielsen) shoots to warn her daughter Wonder Woman (Gal Gadot) about impending danger, when he can depict every minute step of the elaborate ritual the Themysciran warriors enact to unveil the arrow, light its flame, and so on? Why give us people fighting in real time when he can give it to us in slo mo (and then, at random moments, speed-ramp down so the slo mo becomes even slower mo)? Is he having a laugh? He might well be. The wailing that suddenly pops up on the soundtrack whenever we see Wonder Woman certainly reaches self-parodic moments.

But no, Snyder wholeheartedly embraces this stuff, and there’s nothing cynical about his indulgence: He believes that superheroes directly tie into our ancient myths and religious symbols, and he wants to make the rest of us believe, too. He repeatedly goes overboard with the ritual and the portent and the stone-faced gravity, but it’s hard not to respect the guy; nobody has bought into the superhero ethos more than he has. These are not paycheck gigs for him. This is about as personal as it gets.

And it’s maybe more personal than ever. As is well-known by now, Snyder’s departure from Justice League was tragic: He had lost his daughter and didn’t feel up to fighting the studio on all the changes they wanted while also dealing with his grief. The film’s plot was already suffused with loss and traumatized families; so many superhero tales are, but this one, with its overlapping tales of children and parents lost, was something else altogether. It’s not hard to look at this latest cut, the product of $70 million worth of VFX, reedits, and reshoots, and sense a newfound power in its vision of sacrifice and tragedy, in which parents toil to save their children, children toil to save their parents, where the dead rise, and where shattered pasts are rewritten and redeemed. The Snyder Cut has its share of problems — when you get the best of Snyder, you also get the worst — but it’s an undeniably passionate and moving work. It earns its self-importance.
 
The Snyder Cut of Justice League Contains the Best and Worst of Zack Snyder
By Bilge Ebiri

1c17c5ea9e1f66e5fac9d088f2333537b7-justice-league-2.rhorizontal.w700.jpg


Jason Momoa, Gal Gadot, and Ray Fisher in Zack Snyder’s Justice League. Photo: HBO Max

Zack Snyder might be the modern action director who would have felt most at home in the silent era. Not necessarily because he’s a visual storyteller — though he is that, at times — but because of his heartfelt fondness for big, simple emotions. The much-mocked “Martha!” climax of Batman v Superman, wherein Batman (Ben Affleck) and Superman (Henry Cavill) stopped fighting when they realized their moms had the same name, is a moment of pure, unabashed melodrama that could have easily shown up in a classic Lillian Gish picture. (That line itself — “Martha!” — would work so much better as an intertitle than as actual dialogue.) This is one of the charms of Snyder’s work, and it’s one of the charms of Zack Snyder’s Justice League, a.k.a. “the Snyder Cut,” which is itself now a myth made real, an abandoned piece of the past suddenly come back to life on HBO Max. Not unlike, well, something out of a Zack Snyder movie.

But you have to take the good with the bad. The Snyder Cut sprawls, and it scatters, and it loses itself in storylines. The film is a back-breaking four hours and two minutes long (in contrast to the compromised, two-hour 2017 theatrical release version of Justice League, which was heavily reshot and reedited by the now-disgraced Joss Whedon), and it should probably be three. There are times when you’re convinced it’s entering the final act, only to realize there are still more than two hours to go. But lose all these melodramatic curlicues and oversized narrative distractions, and you’d lose what makes the film special. There, in its great, glorious bloat, lies the movie’s heart.



Take one example. Early on, we’re introduced to one of our heroes, Cyborg, a.k.a. Victor Stone (Ray Fisher), through a long series of flashbacks that begins with him standing at a window, looking out at a group of kids playing football in the street and remembering his own days as a star college quarterback. We see him dodging tackles and running and scoring (all in slow motion, naturally) as the crowd cheers. Amid the celebration, he spies in the stands an empty seat next to his mother: the seat where his workaholic scientist father (Joe Morton) should have been. Then we cut to Victor arguing with his mom in the car on the way home about his dad’s not being there. During their argument, Mom takes her eyes off the road, and sure enough, another car crashes into them. Cut to the hospital. Mom is dead, and a comatose Victor is about to die. His grieving, desperate father decides to rebuild him; we are now in the dad’s flashback, as Snyder continues to stack tragedy upon tragedy.


Not long after that series of flashbacks, Cyborg, who has the power to control all the world’s machines and electronic systems, sees a kindly waitress and single mom struggling to make ends meet. (We know this because he watches her, through security-cam footage beamed into his brain, as she gives money to a street busker and then sorrowfully mulls a box of food at the supermarket before putting it back on the shelf.) He sees her get evicted from her apartment. He sees that she only has ten dollars in the bank. With a simple wave of his hands, he adds $100,000 to her ATM balance. The technology might be modern, but the sensibility here is straight out of Dickens.

Cyborg’s narrative in the theatrical release of Justice League was frustratingly abbreviated; there was a moving father-son dynamic, but clearly, much of the character had been left on the cutting-room floor. (Full disclosure: I didn’t hate the theatrical release of Justice League. It was a mess, to be sure, but the mix of Snyderian sincerity and Whedonian irony occasionally worked for me.)

The Snyder Cut restores Cyborg’s storyline in all its earnest, melancholy glory. You can understand why length-concerned executives might have wanted it gone. These are broad, basic emotions — too broad and basic, perhaps, for even your average superhero spectacle — and they eat acres of screen time. But it’s also the best stuff in the film. Snyder thinks his work is unremittingly dark and edgy and twisted — “I would rather fuck you up in a movie than make it nice and pretty for everybody,” he recently told the New York Times — but what’s most striking about the Snyder Cut is its innocence, its almost embarrassing (and often adorable) emotional purity.

Meanwhile, the actual story of Justice League — the one about yet another alien invasion of Earth, and yet another bad guy from beyond trying to obtain yet another series of magic objects — is its least interesting part. One might even argue that it’s even less interesting today than it might have been in 2017, since the film’s overvillain, Darkseid (who was mostly absent from the earlier cut), bears more than a passing resemblance to Marvel’s Thanos, the chief antagonist of the most recent Avengers cycle. In the comics world, of course, Thanos was something of a Darkseid ripoff. (We could argue about this all day.)

Much of the fighting in Justice League still occurs against Darkseid’s emissary, the disgraced intergalactic demon Steppenwolf (Ciaran Hinds, even more unrecognizable here than he was in the earlier cut). This new version of the film makes Steppenwolf’s plans clearer; elaborates on his complicated relationship with Darkseid; and sets up a whole other thing that Darkseid wants (the “anti-life equation,” which doesn’t sound very nice at all) and would have presumably attempted to seize in an eventual, now evidently aborted sequel. It’s all apparently in the comics. I can’t say that I cared for any of it.

In truth, I’ve never been the world’s biggest Zack Snyder fan. His work can be moving, but it’s often undone by his ponderous, overbaked, slow motion- and CGI-heavy style. (I vastly prefer the more anxious, less reverential Christopher Nolan school of grimdark superhero cinema, which is probably why my favorite Snyder title is still Man of Steel.) And the Snyder Cut might be the slo-mo-iest, CGI-iest entry in the man’s oeuvre. It opens with an absurdly long, lightning bolt–filled sequence showing the literal shockwaves sent across the planet and universe by Superman’s death at the end of Batman v Superman. While this does relate to later developments in the new film (and is thus not entirely pointless), it’s still total overkill.
Snyder doesn’t seem to have an evocative or nuanced bone in his body. Why should he give us a mere glimpse of Nordic townsfolk mournfully singing as Aquaman (Jason Momoa) returns to the sea, when he can give us the whole song? Why simply show us the “arrow of Artemis” that Queen Hippolyta (Connie Nielsen) shoots to warn her daughter Wonder Woman (Gal Gadot) about impending danger, when he can depict every minute step of the elaborate ritual the Themysciran warriors enact to unveil the arrow, light its flame, and so on? Why give us people fighting in real time when he can give it to us in slo mo (and then, at random moments, speed-ramp down so the slo mo becomes even slower mo)? Is he having a laugh? He might well be. The wailing that suddenly pops up on the soundtrack whenever we see Wonder Woman certainly reaches self-parodic moments.

But no, Snyder wholeheartedly embraces this stuff, and there’s nothing cynical about his indulgence: He believes that superheroes directly tie into our ancient myths and religious symbols, and he wants to make the rest of us believe, too. He repeatedly goes overboard with the ritual and the portent and the stone-faced gravity, but it’s hard not to respect the guy; nobody has bought into the superhero ethos more than he has. These are not paycheck gigs for him. This is about as personal as it gets.

And it’s maybe more personal than ever. As is well-known by now, Snyder’s departure from Justice League was tragic: He had lost his daughter and didn’t feel up to fighting the studio on all the changes they wanted while also dealing with his grief. The film’s plot was already suffused with loss and traumatized families; so many superhero tales are, but this one, with its overlapping tales of children and parents lost, was something else altogether. It’s not hard to look at this latest cut, the product of $70 million worth of VFX, reedits, and reshoots, and sense a newfound power in its vision of sacrifice and tragedy, in which parents toil to save their children, children toil to save their parents, where the dead rise, and where shattered pasts are rewritten and redeemed. The Snyder Cut has its share of problems — when you get the best of Snyder, you also get the worst — but it’s an undeniably passionate and moving work. It earns its self-importance.
The only way to find out if this movie is good or bad is to watch it.

Reviewers these days just want to be seen these days whether any movie is good or bad.
 
Hope Snyder's cut redeems The Flash. The DCU Flash is what I hated the most about JL. He's a dork and awkward. Every version I've ever seen or read of Flash he's cocky, confident and quick witted. Hope that Wedon is the reason the DECU Flash was trash.
Thats Wally west not Barry Allen.
 
The Snyder Cut of Justice League Contains the Best and Worst of Zack Snyder
By Bilge Ebiri

1c17c5ea9e1f66e5fac9d088f2333537b7-justice-league-2.rhorizontal.w700.jpg


Jason Momoa, Gal Gadot, and Ray Fisher in Zack Snyder’s Justice League. Photo: HBO Max

Zack Snyder might be the modern action director who would have felt most at home in the silent era. Not necessarily because he’s a visual storyteller — though he is that, at times — but because of his heartfelt fondness for big, simple emotions. The much-mocked “Martha!” climax of Batman v Superman, wherein Batman (Ben Affleck) and Superman (Henry Cavill) stopped fighting when they realized their moms had the same name, is a moment of pure, unabashed melodrama that could have easily shown up in a classic Lillian Gish picture. (That line itself — “Martha!” — would work so much better as an intertitle than as actual dialogue.) This is one of the charms of Snyder’s work, and it’s one of the charms of Zack Snyder’s Justice League, a.k.a. “the Snyder Cut,” which is itself now a myth made real, an abandoned piece of the past suddenly come back to life on HBO Max. Not unlike, well, something out of a Zack Snyder movie.

But you have to take the good with the bad. The Snyder Cut sprawls, and it scatters, and it loses itself in storylines. The film is a back-breaking four hours and two minutes long (in contrast to the compromised, two-hour 2017 theatrical release version of Justice League, which was heavily reshot and reedited by the now-disgraced Joss Whedon), and it should probably be three. There are times when you’re convinced it’s entering the final act, only to realize there are still more than two hours to go. But lose all these melodramatic curlicues and oversized narrative distractions, and you’d lose what makes the film special. There, in its great, glorious bloat, lies the movie’s heart.



Take one example. Early on, we’re introduced to one of our heroes, Cyborg, a.k.a. Victor Stone (Ray Fisher), through a long series of flashbacks that begins with him standing at a window, looking out at a group of kids playing football in the street and remembering his own days as a star college quarterback. We see him dodging tackles and running and scoring (all in slow motion, naturally) as the crowd cheers. Amid the celebration, he spies in the stands an empty seat next to his mother: the seat where his workaholic scientist father (Joe Morton) should have been. Then we cut to Victor arguing with his mom in the car on the way home about his dad’s not being there. During their argument, Mom takes her eyes off the road, and sure enough, another car crashes into them. Cut to the hospital. Mom is dead, and a comatose Victor is about to die. His grieving, desperate father decides to rebuild him; we are now in the dad’s flashback, as Snyder continues to stack tragedy upon tragedy.


Not long after that series of flashbacks, Cyborg, who has the power to control all the world’s machines and electronic systems, sees a kindly waitress and single mom struggling to make ends meet. (We know this because he watches her, through security-cam footage beamed into his brain, as she gives money to a street busker and then sorrowfully mulls a box of food at the supermarket before putting it back on the shelf.) He sees her get evicted from her apartment. He sees that she only has ten dollars in the bank. With a simple wave of his hands, he adds $100,000 to her ATM balance. The technology might be modern, but the sensibility here is straight out of Dickens.

Cyborg’s narrative in the theatrical release of Justice League was frustratingly abbreviated; there was a moving father-son dynamic, but clearly, much of the character had been left on the cutting-room floor. (Full disclosure: I didn’t hate the theatrical release of Justice League. It was a mess, to be sure, but the mix of Snyderian sincerity and Whedonian irony occasionally worked for me.)

The Snyder Cut restores Cyborg’s storyline in all its earnest, melancholy glory. You can understand why length-concerned executives might have wanted it gone. These are broad, basic emotions — too broad and basic, perhaps, for even your average superhero spectacle — and they eat acres of screen time. But it’s also the best stuff in the film. Snyder thinks his work is unremittingly dark and edgy and twisted — “I would rather fuck you up in a movie than make it nice and pretty for everybody,” he recently told the New York Times — but what’s most striking about the Snyder Cut is its innocence, its almost embarrassing (and often adorable) emotional purity.

Meanwhile, the actual story of Justice League — the one about yet another alien invasion of Earth, and yet another bad guy from beyond trying to obtain yet another series of magic objects — is its least interesting part. One might even argue that it’s even less interesting today than it might have been in 2017, since the film’s overvillain, Darkseid (who was mostly absent from the earlier cut), bears more than a passing resemblance to Marvel’s Thanos, the chief antagonist of the most recent Avengers cycle. In the comics world, of course, Thanos was something of a Darkseid ripoff. (We could argue about this all day.)

Much of the fighting in Justice League still occurs against Darkseid’s emissary, the disgraced intergalactic demon Steppenwolf (Ciaran Hinds, even more unrecognizable here than he was in the earlier cut). This new version of the film makes Steppenwolf’s plans clearer; elaborates on his complicated relationship with Darkseid; and sets up a whole other thing that Darkseid wants (the “anti-life equation,” which doesn’t sound very nice at all) and would have presumably attempted to seize in an eventual, now evidently aborted sequel. It’s all apparently in the comics. I can’t say that I cared for any of it.

In truth, I’ve never been the world’s biggest Zack Snyder fan. His work can be moving, but it’s often undone by his ponderous, overbaked, slow motion- and CGI-heavy style. (I vastly prefer the more anxious, less reverential Christopher Nolan school of grimdark superhero cinema, which is probably why my favorite Snyder title is still Man of Steel.) And the Snyder Cut might be the slo-mo-iest, CGI-iest entry in the man’s oeuvre. It opens with an absurdly long, lightning bolt–filled sequence showing the literal shockwaves sent across the planet and universe by Superman’s death at the end of Batman v Superman. While this does relate to later developments in the new film (and is thus not entirely pointless), it’s still total overkill.
Snyder doesn’t seem to have an evocative or nuanced bone in his body. Why should he give us a mere glimpse of Nordic townsfolk mournfully singing as Aquaman (Jason Momoa) returns to the sea, when he can give us the whole song? Why simply show us the “arrow of Artemis” that Queen Hippolyta (Connie Nielsen) shoots to warn her daughter Wonder Woman (Gal Gadot) about impending danger, when he can depict every minute step of the elaborate ritual the Themysciran warriors enact to unveil the arrow, light its flame, and so on? Why give us people fighting in real time when he can give it to us in slo mo (and then, at random moments, speed-ramp down so the slo mo becomes even slower mo)? Is he having a laugh? He might well be. The wailing that suddenly pops up on the soundtrack whenever we see Wonder Woman certainly reaches self-parodic moments.

But no, Snyder wholeheartedly embraces this stuff, and there’s nothing cynical about his indulgence: He believes that superheroes directly tie into our ancient myths and religious symbols, and he wants to make the rest of us believe, too. He repeatedly goes overboard with the ritual and the portent and the stone-faced gravity, but it’s hard not to respect the guy; nobody has bought into the superhero ethos more than he has. These are not paycheck gigs for him. This is about as personal as it gets.

And it’s maybe more personal than ever. As is well-known by now, Snyder’s departure from Justice League was tragic: He had lost his daughter and didn’t feel up to fighting the studio on all the changes they wanted while also dealing with his grief. The film’s plot was already suffused with loss and traumatized families; so many superhero tales are, but this one, with its overlapping tales of children and parents lost, was something else altogether. It’s not hard to look at this latest cut, the product of $70 million worth of VFX, reedits, and reshoots, and sense a newfound power in its vision of sacrifice and tragedy, in which parents toil to save their children, children toil to save their parents, where the dead rise, and where shattered pasts are rewritten and redeemed. The Snyder Cut has its share of problems — when you get the best of Snyder, you also get the worst — but it’s an undeniably passionate and moving work. It earns its self-importance.
Tyie shouldve been. a two part movie or a 4 episode mini series because that's how I plan to watch it . I dont think I can do 4 hours honestly.
 
4hrs?...Gee no shit.
I remember saying so many years ago...If you're not going to have prior movies for these other characters such as the Flash and Aquaman, then the only way to do a Justice League movie that could work is to Lord of the Rings it. It had to be at least 3hrs long to introduce the new characters the heroes and the villains.
 
I'm so outta the loop. So is this part two? I never watched that first one outfits looked like I made them shits.

It's an overhaul of the original Justice League movie - done in Snyder's complete vision. It's reported he got an extra $70 million do to reshoots and recuts, making it like an entirely new film.

Will the Flash do more than push things and run weird? We all want to know.
 
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I'm glad I saw it already so your simple ass xidnt spoil it for me. You shout it out louder cor those in the back who haven't seen it yet? I'm pretty sure people love to have surprises ruined
That was harsh I was a little cranky this morning. Just put your post in spoilers @Carlito
 
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