The postmodern body, in other words, is a desiring-machine whose contours are defined by the technetronic mediascape of late capitalism, which equates adequacy with excess. These marks warn us not to be less than avid (if not rabid) consumers lest we fall short of being adequate, functional social subjects. A product of late capitalism, this language of desire's foremost task is to uphold and perpetuate a community of consumers whose cyborg bodies bear the brightly colored marks of the media. It’s just a pity that the movie itself isn’t quite as thrilling.The Technological/Self Arthur Kroker and David Cook have said that the postmodern body is "a power grid, tattooed with all the signs of cultural excess on its surface, encoded from within by the language of desire" (Postmodern 26). He makes a terrifically fun "serious" villain, and it’s always a joy to see actors take on roles that are drastically different or opposite to what they’re known for. (To date, he’s also appearing in the upcoming Freddie Mercury biopic Bohemian Rhapsody.) It’s the first time we’ve seen Myers in a role without excessive prosthetics or comedic edge in nearly two decades. There’s a spooky, supercilious quality to Franklyn that Myers nails it makes you hope that his return to acting will last. There are a few other twists that follow, but none are quite as fun as the turn from hapless fuddy-duddy to cold-blooded killer. But Terminal's sweeping and rocky tone, brandishing an amalgam of influences and storylines without seeming to be able to settle upon just one, derails that inclination. Once Franklyn changes into tailored, all-black clothing, the level of palpable evil is tempting to compare to certain other "evil" roles he’s played. Franklyn are polar opposite personalities, and Myers ping-pongs from one to the other with such ease that he doesn’t even really have to take off the janitor's prosthetics or false teeth for the flip to hit home (though, of course, it helps). Though it’s a twist you may have seen coming, Myers’ physical transformation once his character is left alone is a refreshing reminder of just why he’s so fun to watch. And when he limps back to the door labeled as the janitor’s closet after all three of Annie’s targets have bitten the bullet, it’s not to a closet filled with mops and cleaning supplies, but a surveillance room. Franklyn to give Annie a hand, or rather, to keep tabs on her. ![]() Franklyn," heard only as a voice on the other end of the phone.īut then come the twists: As it turns out, there’s been a reason why we’ve been seeing the janitor all over the place. She’s been playing Alfred (Max Irons) and Vince (Dexter Fletcher) against each other, and Bill (Simon Pegg) against himself, so as to get into the good graces of one masterminding "Mr. Though the janitor is certainly quirky enough to fit in with the rest of the colorful cast, he’s not a killer - or so we’re led to think.įor a while, it seems like femme fatale Annie (Margot Robbie) is at the center of the spider’s web. The world of Terminal is one of contract killers, or at least people on close terms with death. Initially, it’s not clear exactly where Myers’ character, a hobbling janitor with crooked teeth, fits into the picture. The film, directed by Vaughn Stein, takes the neon killer aesthetic popularized by John Wick and Drive and turns it up to 11. It’s his first onscreen role in nearly a decade, and certainly meatier than his cameo as a British general in Inglourious Basterds. ![]() Though the film itself runs all over the map - twisting so many times it knots itself into a contorted mess, and packing in more cinematic references than it knows what to do with - Myers draws you in and holds your attention. There’s something delightful about Mike Myers’ appearance in Terminal. This post contains major spoilers for the ending of Terminal.
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