I have now seen The Book Of Eli twice (don't ask) and, in terms of reviewing it, it's no bad thing. On my ten worst films of the year list is Orphan, a film that pulled a gloriously, hilariously, shamelessly stupid last minute twist out of absolutely nowhere. The Book Of Eli contains a reveal that, while not quite as moronic, is definitely in the same ballpark. If Orphan is actually on the playing field then The Book Of Eli is selling the hotdogs in the stand. What's funny is that, watching it for the second time, I could see all those moments where directors The Hughes Brothers tried to plant a clue, tried to play fair with the audience, and one or two I would concede are pretty decent. The problem is that to properly play fair you would have to be considerably cleverer film makers than the Hughes Brothers, but, really, what they're trying to do is so implausible that I genuinely struggle to imagine a way of pulling it off. I so want to talk about it but I couldn't spoil the surprise!
Denzel Washington is Eli, a lone samurai wandering the wilderness in the aftermath of nuclear holocaust. He is carrying a book and to talk properly about the film I need to say what the book is. It's fully revealed before the half way mark and the trailers have all but given it away anyway but stop reading now if you don't want to know... Okay?... Right...
Denzel is carrying the last remaining copy of the Bible. The war was started on religious grounds and the survivors made sure that every remaining copy was destroyed. This is quite a stretch, quite a big ask of the audience but, given what's to follow, it's one of the easier things to swallow in the film. Anyway Denzel is on a quest, heading east, taking the book to a safe place. Denzel has an old fashioned Ipod, running off what looks to be a car battery, and when he loses power he wanders into a town to recharge it and get supplies. The town is run by evil Carnegie (Gary Oldman in full on villain mode) who has teams of bandits roaming the land looking for... you guessed it, a copy of the bible. You see Carnegie knows how powerful the book is, knows how, if he has it, he will be able to control not just one small town, but the whole WORLD! Mwa ha ha ha! Carnegie and Eli face off, Eli escapes and Carnegie, who will risk and sacrifice anything and anyone to get the book, chases him with his army of disposable henchmen.
The Book Of Eli has two things going for it. Firstly, this core idea of the corrupting influence of religion, its ability to control the masses, and how a survivor of nuclear armageddon wants it for those purposes, is a strong one. In a film that didn't cost $80 million and without big name stars, this could have been a really compelling, character driven and subtle story. Instead, in one corner we have Saint Denzel and in the other we have Evil Oldman. Part of the problem is the casting. You don't have Gary Oldman as your villain and then tie him down. You want to let him loose, let him chew up the scenery, but in so doing you lose any of the potential grey the story might have had. Similarly Denzel does big, broad emotions and here he is playing GOOD! Ultimately what happens is that, the central notion isn't really explored with any great significance or depth and you end up wondering what might have been. The second thing the film has going for it are the fight sequences. I'm no great Denzel Washington fan but he is surprisingly adept at dispatching bad guys with a sword. The Hughes Brothers make the great decision not to cut those fights with lightening speed. Indeed, Eli's first encounter with hijackers on the road in which he takes on 6 or 7 men, one wielding a chainsaw, occurs in one sustained shot from quite a way back. The choreography is great, Denzel has clearly put the work in and is convincing, and the directors know that they just have to sit back and let it happen. In these times of action sequences being edited like the editor is taking Speed for his ADD, it's refreshing and feels strangely new.
But the film as a whole is really quite dull and the tone of the whole thing is so lugubrious, so humourless, each frame, everything from the music to the cinematography, demanding that you take it with utter seriousness and total sincerity as if it were the very book its titular character is carrying. If you're not really going with the film, as I wasn't, this makes the whole thing fall on the wrong side of laughable. Part of this problem lies with Denzel. It's not that he's bad, and as I said, in terms of the physical stuff he's excellent, but he's just so... earnest. "I walk the Earth. I carry my book. I pray every day. I'm Denzel, you will take me seriously" Any film asking me to take it this seriously needs to earn that and, in the end, The Book Of Eli doesn't. It's a half baked genre movie with some good ideas, a couple of great fights, long stretches of nothing, WAY too many slow motion "Denzel looking cool while walking" shots and a truly hilarious ending. It also contains one of the weirdest shots I've seen in a film in a long time and the strangest shot of Denzel Washington I think I've ever seen where, not only has he had his beard shaved, but his whole head has been shaved too and he is dressed in an ankle length, snow white robe... Unintentionally funny.
Every film I've reviewed this month has had the same line. "It's not terrible, it's just not that great." And guess what? I've seen worse, I've also seen considerably better. I feel that I am way overdue a genuinely great film. Come on 2010, surely you're better than last year?
5/10
Thursday, 21 January 2010
Wednesday, 20 January 2010
The Road Review
I find myself in an interesting, and lamentably rare, situation when it comes to The Road. I've actually read the book. I do read more than those first two sentences would suggest, honest! It's also one of my favourite books but I did try and approach the film as objectively and with as fresh a perspective as I could. The fact that it's directed by John Hillcoat, who directed The Proposition, gave hope. Cormac McCarthy's book drips with atmosphere and menace and The Proposition is one of the most atmospheric and tonally interesting films of the last few years. A good match then, perhaps. What struck me when watching The Road was that, a huge part of what made me love the book was not what it was about, but how it was written. Of course the film doesn't have the benefit of McCarthy's terse prose and so what you are left with is the narrative of the book which, to the best of my memory, is actually adhered to pretty faithfully by writer Joe Penhall, a narrative that is somewhat slight and episodic.
Viggo Mortensen plays the man, Kodi Smit-Mcphee plays the boy. Both are struggling to survive in the aftermath of an unamed apocalypse, travelling south along the eponymous road to the coast, avoiding those survivors who would use them for food and occasionally bumping into Robert Duvall or Guy Pearce who must surely be a shoe in for Best Supporting Fake Teeth at this year's awards season. And that's kind of all there is to it. As I said, that's all there is to the story of the book also, but the narrative deficiencies take centre stage in the film. Central to the story is this relationship between man and boy and both actors do well, Viggo in particular looking dirty, haggard and gaunt having presumably thrown himself method style into the role. The problems arise as the boy constantly pesters his Dad about who is good and who is bad. Rather than leading to an interesting grey area of survival in which no one is necessarily good or bad, we have the man and boy who are good because they don't eat people and the cannibals who are bad because they do. The boy questions his father's way of protecting them even as they are being attacked by those who would harm them and the theme loses any weight and believability as a result. Yes he's a child but all he has ever known is the apocalypse, all he has ever known is danger, dread, hunger and fear, so shouldn't he be savvy to his world by now? Shouldn't he understand the consequences if they don't defend themselves at all costs, violently if that's necessary? This adds a level of immaturity to either the character if it's deliberate or the script if it's not and either way I found it problematic.
What is most surprising however, is that I expected the film to assault me with its atmosphere and tone and it really didn't. Whereas The Proposition was relentless (to the point of being problematic to many critics but not to me) The Road actually becomes somewhat tiresome at times. Lots of washed out colours, plenty of grey, but nothing ever changes and at a certain point I found myself desensitised to the whole thing, apathetic when I should have been on the edge of my seat. There are some flashbacks to life before the apocalypse, with Charlise Theron playing Viggo's wife, "the woman" presumably, and these work to mixed effect. They provide a break from the unremitting grimness of the present but they don't inform the character of the man and storywise they could happily be excised and nothing would be lost.
I feel like I'm coming down pretty hard on The Road. I don't feel like this is a case of "I loved the book and you ruined it with the film", the problems are there on the screen. Like many of the films I've seen recently, The Road isn't terrible, it has much to commend and enjoy. I just found myself struggling to understand the point of it, what it was I was supposed to take from it. I've waited a few days to write this review as I haven't been sure what I thought about the film and I'm not sure I can articulate it even now. I guess my advice would be, read the book.
5-6/10
Viggo Mortensen plays the man, Kodi Smit-Mcphee plays the boy. Both are struggling to survive in the aftermath of an unamed apocalypse, travelling south along the eponymous road to the coast, avoiding those survivors who would use them for food and occasionally bumping into Robert Duvall or Guy Pearce who must surely be a shoe in for Best Supporting Fake Teeth at this year's awards season. And that's kind of all there is to it. As I said, that's all there is to the story of the book also, but the narrative deficiencies take centre stage in the film. Central to the story is this relationship between man and boy and both actors do well, Viggo in particular looking dirty, haggard and gaunt having presumably thrown himself method style into the role. The problems arise as the boy constantly pesters his Dad about who is good and who is bad. Rather than leading to an interesting grey area of survival in which no one is necessarily good or bad, we have the man and boy who are good because they don't eat people and the cannibals who are bad because they do. The boy questions his father's way of protecting them even as they are being attacked by those who would harm them and the theme loses any weight and believability as a result. Yes he's a child but all he has ever known is the apocalypse, all he has ever known is danger, dread, hunger and fear, so shouldn't he be savvy to his world by now? Shouldn't he understand the consequences if they don't defend themselves at all costs, violently if that's necessary? This adds a level of immaturity to either the character if it's deliberate or the script if it's not and either way I found it problematic.
What is most surprising however, is that I expected the film to assault me with its atmosphere and tone and it really didn't. Whereas The Proposition was relentless (to the point of being problematic to many critics but not to me) The Road actually becomes somewhat tiresome at times. Lots of washed out colours, plenty of grey, but nothing ever changes and at a certain point I found myself desensitised to the whole thing, apathetic when I should have been on the edge of my seat. There are some flashbacks to life before the apocalypse, with Charlise Theron playing Viggo's wife, "the woman" presumably, and these work to mixed effect. They provide a break from the unremitting grimness of the present but they don't inform the character of the man and storywise they could happily be excised and nothing would be lost.
I feel like I'm coming down pretty hard on The Road. I don't feel like this is a case of "I loved the book and you ruined it with the film", the problems are there on the screen. Like many of the films I've seen recently, The Road isn't terrible, it has much to commend and enjoy. I just found myself struggling to understand the point of it, what it was I was supposed to take from it. I've waited a few days to write this review as I haven't been sure what I thought about the film and I'm not sure I can articulate it even now. I guess my advice would be, read the book.
5-6/10
Up In the Air Review
What am I missing? Why don't I like these films? Up In The Air arrives with glowing reviews, solid if unspectacular box office, Oscar buzz and the promise of Gorgeous George being, well, gorgeous presumably. At least on that level Up In The Air doesn't disappoint. It's the third film from Jason Reitman after Thank You For Smoking and Juno. I REALLY have to avoid turning this review into a Juno rant. If paragraphs stop suddenly, it'll only be me putting the brakes on yet another "why Juno is actually terrible" tirade.
I'm doing it already. Okay, back to Up In the Air.
Clooney plays Ryan Bingham, a man whose job it is to fly from city to city and inform unsuspecting employees that they have lost their jobs. Bingham is world class at his job. Soothing, calm, understanding. But he is empty inside. Becoming one of only a handful of people ever to clock up ten million air miles is his life's ambition. People and relationships weigh him down and the few days he spends at home are the unhappiest of the year, preferring to live his life in airports and hotels. When fresh faced company hotshot Anna Kendrick blusters in with a new scheme to do the firing remotely, eliminating the need for Clooney to travel the country, he is enormously threatened and is ordered by slimey company boss Jason Bateman to take her with him to show her how firing people is done and what it's all about.
There has been much talk in recent years about Hollywood studios bastardising "Indie" cinema, popularising it, packaging and marketing it and serving it out as an apparently high brow alternative to their mainstream fare. Up In the Air is the very epitome of this phenomenon, a film every bit as mainstream and, in all honestly, as hollow and empty as the Summer special effects movies. Getting Clooney to do the film is crucial for two reasons. Firstly, on this same point, it gives the film cache. "George Clooney is in it? It must be political and have something to say."Secondly, it means that a thoroughly unlikable character is now made more palatable to a broad audience and the awards voters. This notion is undeniable and transparent and is completely against the ethos of genuine independent cinema which as a result makes it the most compelling point in the argument that films like this do not represent genuine independent cinema and are merely low(er) budgeted Hollywood, mainstream films. Up In The Air isn't the worst film ever made. It just isn't particularly good and its pretensions make its ultimate emptiness all the more apparent.
The notion of a guy talking the talk in a job where empathy is crucial not actually having genuine emotional empathy towards others is an interesting one. I haven't read the book so I can't comment on how well it works on the page. The problem onscreen though is that, this idea slowly comes to represent the film as a whole. Up In The Air doesn't make a genuine connection, at least it doesn't with me, and I felt that I was being played the whole time. A few funny moments and Clooney's charisma and charm make you go with it while you watch it but, stepping out of the cinema to assess what I had watched, I found myself with little to say because there's very little substance. What makes it worse is that, director Reitman intercuts interviews with people who have actually lost their jobs in real life. This comes off as a very cynical way to give the film weight and make it seem as if it's offering a commentary of some kind on our current economic crisis, which it isn't. And of course there's the dreaded "alternative indie music" soundtrack. This has really come to represent a certain kind of film in my mind, a kind of film I just cannot abide. Jason Reitman is the new Cameron Crowe, just with less schmaltz and slightly more credibility, and the perfectly placed but sledgehammer obvious indie songs coming every 3 minutes with "wounded" singers asserting that karma won't let them down no matter what Annie said when she broke their heart, or whatever emotionally contrived crap happened to conveniently rhyme with the last line, only underscores this further. I don't believe the songs, I don't believe the film, there is actually nothing being said here but the packaging is top notch.
The film isn't terrible, it's just nowhere near as good as it wants you to think it is. Up In The Air is better than Thank You For Smoking and WAY better than Juno, although it is definitely cut from the same cloth and suffers from exactly the same problems. That is also faint praise given that immersing one's head in acid is better than watching Juno...
PARAGRAPH ABORTED - JUNO RANT DETECTED.
5/10
I'm doing it already. Okay, back to Up In the Air.
Clooney plays Ryan Bingham, a man whose job it is to fly from city to city and inform unsuspecting employees that they have lost their jobs. Bingham is world class at his job. Soothing, calm, understanding. But he is empty inside. Becoming one of only a handful of people ever to clock up ten million air miles is his life's ambition. People and relationships weigh him down and the few days he spends at home are the unhappiest of the year, preferring to live his life in airports and hotels. When fresh faced company hotshot Anna Kendrick blusters in with a new scheme to do the firing remotely, eliminating the need for Clooney to travel the country, he is enormously threatened and is ordered by slimey company boss Jason Bateman to take her with him to show her how firing people is done and what it's all about.
There has been much talk in recent years about Hollywood studios bastardising "Indie" cinema, popularising it, packaging and marketing it and serving it out as an apparently high brow alternative to their mainstream fare. Up In the Air is the very epitome of this phenomenon, a film every bit as mainstream and, in all honestly, as hollow and empty as the Summer special effects movies. Getting Clooney to do the film is crucial for two reasons. Firstly, on this same point, it gives the film cache. "George Clooney is in it? It must be political and have something to say."Secondly, it means that a thoroughly unlikable character is now made more palatable to a broad audience and the awards voters. This notion is undeniable and transparent and is completely against the ethos of genuine independent cinema which as a result makes it the most compelling point in the argument that films like this do not represent genuine independent cinema and are merely low(er) budgeted Hollywood, mainstream films. Up In The Air isn't the worst film ever made. It just isn't particularly good and its pretensions make its ultimate emptiness all the more apparent.
The notion of a guy talking the talk in a job where empathy is crucial not actually having genuine emotional empathy towards others is an interesting one. I haven't read the book so I can't comment on how well it works on the page. The problem onscreen though is that, this idea slowly comes to represent the film as a whole. Up In The Air doesn't make a genuine connection, at least it doesn't with me, and I felt that I was being played the whole time. A few funny moments and Clooney's charisma and charm make you go with it while you watch it but, stepping out of the cinema to assess what I had watched, I found myself with little to say because there's very little substance. What makes it worse is that, director Reitman intercuts interviews with people who have actually lost their jobs in real life. This comes off as a very cynical way to give the film weight and make it seem as if it's offering a commentary of some kind on our current economic crisis, which it isn't. And of course there's the dreaded "alternative indie music" soundtrack. This has really come to represent a certain kind of film in my mind, a kind of film I just cannot abide. Jason Reitman is the new Cameron Crowe, just with less schmaltz and slightly more credibility, and the perfectly placed but sledgehammer obvious indie songs coming every 3 minutes with "wounded" singers asserting that karma won't let them down no matter what Annie said when she broke their heart, or whatever emotionally contrived crap happened to conveniently rhyme with the last line, only underscores this further. I don't believe the songs, I don't believe the film, there is actually nothing being said here but the packaging is top notch.
The film isn't terrible, it's just nowhere near as good as it wants you to think it is. Up In The Air is better than Thank You For Smoking and WAY better than Juno, although it is definitely cut from the same cloth and suffers from exactly the same problems. That is also faint praise given that immersing one's head in acid is better than watching Juno...
PARAGRAPH ABORTED - JUNO RANT DETECTED.
5/10
Friday, 15 January 2010
And The First Review Of 2010 Is...
Daybreakers!
Where has this resurgence in vampires come from? Is it just Twilight? Daybreakers is as odd film because, while ultimately it didn't work for me, there is much to commend and admire in it and it attempts to bring something new to the vampire genre whilst simultaneously adhering to many of its conventions. It also attempts to remind us that vampires are meant to be scary and not, you know, mopey. Yeah all right I haven't seen Twilight so I shouldn't comment.
Daybreakers is set in 2019, ten years after the vampire plague has wiped out 95% of humanity. Of course this lack of humans means a lack of food for the vampires who, despite ruling the world, find themselves faced with their own extinction. In one of the nicest elements of the film, we discover that vampires who are deprived blood devolve into Subsiders, underground dwelling, bat-like monsters who, as the film opens, are growing in numbers and becoming more brazen about attacking the "civilised", suburban vampires in their own homes, so desperate are they for blood. The crisis has resulted in scientist Edward (Ethan Hawke) working to find a blood substitute for the company that seems to control the world's entire blood supply, run by creepy Sam Neill. One night Edward runs into a band of humans, one of the last, and discovers that they may have found a cure for vampirism. This sets him on a whole new path, working with the humans who are constantly on the run from the vampire military who hunt them down and farm them for their blood.
The best thing about Daybreakers is the world that the writer/director Spierig Brothers have created. There is a tremendous level of detail in the way that the vampires have organised their existence and the way they use technology to help themselves. Darkened windows with roof mounted cameras on the roofs of their cars to allow day time driving for example, mirror our own use of technology for our own ends in a nice way. The devil, as they say, is in the details and there are numerous small moments that work well to build a sense of reality to the world of the film, a spoonful of blood in the coffee for example, or an early shot where Ethan Hawke pulls up outside a building in his car and we see him reflected in the rear view mirror. It's the kind of shot we've seen in films a million times but, being a vampire, he has no reflection so all we see in the mirror is a suit with no head attached. This sense of the world feeds into what Daybreakers is ultimately about which is a commentary on and reflection of our own mismanagement of natural resources. For the most part this works quite well. The Subsiders in particular can be read in different ways and the way they gradually grow in numbers and encroach upon the suburbs (and the way they are ultimately dealt with) is an interesting notion of what people who are sufficiently desperate can become. Also noteworthy is the refreshing use of practical effects and sets with CGI used to enhance and augment rather than create from scratch. Even the monsterous subsiders appear to be guys in suits and, far from being a criticism, that works really well to give them presence and menace.
The problem however is that, having come up with this interesting parallel and use for the vampire legend, having thought through and then built this world, the Spierig Brothers don't really know what to do with it and the narrative ends up floundering. There are bits and pieces of different stories that don't really resonate or even go anywhere, Ethan Hawke's difficult relationship with his brother or in particular Sam Neill's estrangement with his still human daughter for example. The way Neill deals with her when they are reunited and what becomes of her should be one of the films key moments and emotional high points but, because she is introduced too late and because the way the two characters are reunited is massively coincidental, it fails to make an impact. Also, the various stories serve to jostle and fight for importance as well as for our attention rather than working together to serve the overall narrative and the effect of this is that they all end up failing.
Ethan Hawke is an actor I've never had great afinity for. Not terrible by any means, but just kind of missing... something, I don't know what. This actually works to his favour when he's a vampire but mid way through the second act he tries the new cure on himself and succeeds in making himself human again, though I was hard pressed to tell the difference. Way more problematic is the normally wonderful Willem Dafoe who hams it up as "Elvis", a crossbow wielding ex-vampire with an atrocious Southern accent who feels like he has wandered in from a different film. Indeed, there is a sense all the way through that the film isn't quite sure where to place itself. The success of its world building and its attempt to say something suggest a film of some intelligence. Willem Dafoe's performance and the clunky action scenes that pepper the film do not. By the time the predictably bloody finale arrives, you're way too bored to be bothered anymore.
In the end Daybreakers is a mixed bag. Part of me feels that a sequel could actually be a good thing because, having established such an immersive, convincing world, they could then use it to tell a really compelling story. As it is, characters of little interest wander through that world with very little to do.
5.5/10
Where has this resurgence in vampires come from? Is it just Twilight? Daybreakers is as odd film because, while ultimately it didn't work for me, there is much to commend and admire in it and it attempts to bring something new to the vampire genre whilst simultaneously adhering to many of its conventions. It also attempts to remind us that vampires are meant to be scary and not, you know, mopey. Yeah all right I haven't seen Twilight so I shouldn't comment.
Daybreakers is set in 2019, ten years after the vampire plague has wiped out 95% of humanity. Of course this lack of humans means a lack of food for the vampires who, despite ruling the world, find themselves faced with their own extinction. In one of the nicest elements of the film, we discover that vampires who are deprived blood devolve into Subsiders, underground dwelling, bat-like monsters who, as the film opens, are growing in numbers and becoming more brazen about attacking the "civilised", suburban vampires in their own homes, so desperate are they for blood. The crisis has resulted in scientist Edward (Ethan Hawke) working to find a blood substitute for the company that seems to control the world's entire blood supply, run by creepy Sam Neill. One night Edward runs into a band of humans, one of the last, and discovers that they may have found a cure for vampirism. This sets him on a whole new path, working with the humans who are constantly on the run from the vampire military who hunt them down and farm them for their blood.
The best thing about Daybreakers is the world that the writer/director Spierig Brothers have created. There is a tremendous level of detail in the way that the vampires have organised their existence and the way they use technology to help themselves. Darkened windows with roof mounted cameras on the roofs of their cars to allow day time driving for example, mirror our own use of technology for our own ends in a nice way. The devil, as they say, is in the details and there are numerous small moments that work well to build a sense of reality to the world of the film, a spoonful of blood in the coffee for example, or an early shot where Ethan Hawke pulls up outside a building in his car and we see him reflected in the rear view mirror. It's the kind of shot we've seen in films a million times but, being a vampire, he has no reflection so all we see in the mirror is a suit with no head attached. This sense of the world feeds into what Daybreakers is ultimately about which is a commentary on and reflection of our own mismanagement of natural resources. For the most part this works quite well. The Subsiders in particular can be read in different ways and the way they gradually grow in numbers and encroach upon the suburbs (and the way they are ultimately dealt with) is an interesting notion of what people who are sufficiently desperate can become. Also noteworthy is the refreshing use of practical effects and sets with CGI used to enhance and augment rather than create from scratch. Even the monsterous subsiders appear to be guys in suits and, far from being a criticism, that works really well to give them presence and menace.
The problem however is that, having come up with this interesting parallel and use for the vampire legend, having thought through and then built this world, the Spierig Brothers don't really know what to do with it and the narrative ends up floundering. There are bits and pieces of different stories that don't really resonate or even go anywhere, Ethan Hawke's difficult relationship with his brother or in particular Sam Neill's estrangement with his still human daughter for example. The way Neill deals with her when they are reunited and what becomes of her should be one of the films key moments and emotional high points but, because she is introduced too late and because the way the two characters are reunited is massively coincidental, it fails to make an impact. Also, the various stories serve to jostle and fight for importance as well as for our attention rather than working together to serve the overall narrative and the effect of this is that they all end up failing.
Ethan Hawke is an actor I've never had great afinity for. Not terrible by any means, but just kind of missing... something, I don't know what. This actually works to his favour when he's a vampire but mid way through the second act he tries the new cure on himself and succeeds in making himself human again, though I was hard pressed to tell the difference. Way more problematic is the normally wonderful Willem Dafoe who hams it up as "Elvis", a crossbow wielding ex-vampire with an atrocious Southern accent who feels like he has wandered in from a different film. Indeed, there is a sense all the way through that the film isn't quite sure where to place itself. The success of its world building and its attempt to say something suggest a film of some intelligence. Willem Dafoe's performance and the clunky action scenes that pepper the film do not. By the time the predictably bloody finale arrives, you're way too bored to be bothered anymore.
In the end Daybreakers is a mixed bag. Part of me feels that a sequel could actually be a good thing because, having established such an immersive, convincing world, they could then use it to tell a really compelling story. As it is, characters of little interest wander through that world with very little to do.
5.5/10
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)