Power Review - Exodus: Gods & Kings

"Are you not enslaved?"

I expected Christian Bale's Moses to shout at any moment. Unfortunately he never did. Which would've been a high point for Ridley Scott's latest historical snoozer, I mean, epic.

Maybe that's unfair, because while it is routinely sleep-inducing, it most certainly is epic. Often large scale historical or fantasy films can feel less grand than microwave meal for one, but if Ridley Scott can be accused of anything, then doing things small is not one of them. The scope of Egyptian ambition and achievement are breathtakingly observed and constructed to deliver an impressive world of industry and opulent excess and provide a grounded and threatening backdrop to a nations drive for freedom.

There are a number of things Exodus gets right, both as a finish and as a core idea. The constructed world is one of them, as are the costumes and clothing, each outfit unique and specific in look and presence. Joel Edgerton is unnervingly selfish and malevolent as King Rameses, and the depiction of the plagues is a brutal and uncompromising experience. Moses, when conversing with God, comments that all suffer, not just the oppressors, and it's an interesting point. Often with legend or folklore the acts themselves are the focus, yet Exodus takes the point that actions affect people, and it wisely focuses on the consequences suffered, a realisation of the effect of actual events.

The base idea of Moses and Ramses as broken brothers is this story's main strength, and it's played well enough, but the greater familial politics which could've been so interesting fell under baked, and with a little more control could've been deeper and more meaningful. Moses is exiled far too quickly, and Sigourney Weaver's Egyptian matriarch has barely two lines and even less screen time. Ultimately they're a means to a plot point, and the impact is dulled. Similarly Moses' mixed heritage, his reticence at seeing his adopted nation suffer and the effects of the plagues on his Israelite brethren could provide an intriguing and emotional intensity to his personal wrestle with God's will, but rather comes across as a stubborn man's reluctant grumbling.

Exodus starts with a fictionalised attack on nearby Hittite militia that serves to show the uncompromising might of the Empire, and proves Ridley hasn't lost his edge in a fight. It does, however, also highlight how little action there is throughout the rest of the film, right until the sea-soaked finale which features not a single sword blow. It's difficult to cram so much story into a film, and to manufacture action where there is none, but as Gladiator proved ancient politics need not be a snore-bore. Moses himself often feels rather self centered, and peripheral characters like his wife, brother Aaron, Sir Ben Kingsley's Nun and Aaron Paul's Joshua may as well have not turned up, they are used so infrequently.

Ultimately it's a lush, ambitious film filled with great ideas delivered at a slow plodding pace, which after three hours may have you asking: are we entertained?

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Director: Ridley Scott

Featuring: Christian Bale, Joel Edgerton, Sigourney Weaver, Sir Ben Kingsley, Aaron Paul

The Guest

You will meet a tall dark stranger. He is polite, handsome and mysterious.

Oh and I forgot to mention, he's violent, manipulative and way too close to your children. What could possibly go wrong?

Brit heart-throb and one-time heir to an Earl Dan Stevens is David, a U.S. Marine who appears on the Peterson family doorstep to grieving mother Sheila Kelley and claiming to have served with her killed-in-action son, calling to check-in on the emotionally-charged homestead. He immediately settles in, his quiet charm and accessible facade allowing each family member (including over-looked father Leland Orser and bullied outsider brother Brendan Meyer) to open up and confide in him, with only breakaway rebel sister Maika Monroe reacting more slowly to his cool advances. 

And then he takes his shirt off.

That may be an over simplification of her change in opinion, as a series protective acts and surrogate-brotherly conversations help to wear down her icy exterior, and David slowly gains her admiration, if not her trust. As an audience, for forty-five minutes there's little evidence that this is anything less than a family drama exploring love, loss and PTSD, and then, like watching a shark blink, David doesn't. The first moment he is alone he does...nothing. He sits. He stares. And that charming smile slowly fades away.

To describe any more would be unfair, and one of the movies greatest strengths is it's ability to shock and surprise and do so with a wry devilish grin. Dan Stevens is excellent, his semi-mute David a walking construct, absorbing energy and information, and as with all energy when absorbed it must be expelled, somewhere, somehow. And on someone. Maika Monroe is a breakout star, her maturity and naivety the core journey of the piece, her reticence, acceptance and subsequent resourcefulness our gateway into this world, and the rest of the family are subtley and gamely played by the small ensemble of cast members (the superb Lance Reddick, with his killer combination of Greatest Stare and Gravest Voice, pops in for a visit).

With so much mystery hanging around, the number one question is motive, and it runs as a twisted thread through every part of the narrative. Every new introduction is accompanied by the question: why? Answers come, of course, usually followed by more 'why's' which can intrigue and infuriate at times. It's a deftly handled darkly black thriller-comedy, director Adam Wingard and writer-collaborator Simon Barrett combining these complimenting tones to great effect, but as a conspiracy thriller it is a little lost. While most answers are satisfying some 'why's' are answered with a 'who cares' and other times a swift 'huh?', leading to a little baggy and uneven middle third. After a ripped-open reveal the return to suburban disharmony is a little disappointing and the slow unnerving tension difficult to recapture. 

Thankfully Wingard does, and the dark horror finale is routinely hilarious and chilling, and effortlessly cool. It's greatest strength is an unnerving tone with a knowing glint, and accompanied by a too-cool-for-school electronica soundtrack that really pounds in amongst the lights and flashes, it provides a satisfying conclusion as it cranks up the crazy. Comparisons have been made to Winding-Refn's Drive, and while both feature silent blue-eyed anti-heroes and a retro score, the simple truth is The Guest dares to be a little more different and enjoy itself compared to the more sombre Drive. 

So while it attempts maybe a little too much genre-wise, for smarts and smiles and a rollicking good time, this tall, handsome stranger is welcome anytime.

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Director: Adam Wingard

Featuring: Dan Stevens, Lance Reddick, Leyland Orser, Maika Monroe, Sheila Kelley

Snowpiercer

How do we find out about movies?

These days there is one answer - the internet. Any film worth its salt has an extensive strategic online marketing campaign which at its very core sits one very simple but very crucial thing - The Trailer.

Snowpiercer had an A-May-Zing trailer.

That was January 2013. It looked epic, interesting and badass and came from one of the most celebrated Korean directors of the last 20 years, Bong Joon-ho. It was a mental mix of metal and martial arts, with slashes of sci fi and blood.

And then nothing. For months. Years. And the one thing that the internet tells us about Snowpiercer is that everyone has been having the same thought - where the hell is it? Now, let's not get bogged down in the whys and wherefores, but it is suffice to say that due to the traditional "big studio interference" complex, Snowpiercer was wrestled and wrangled away from a wider global audience, and despite being released in Bong's native Korea (breaking several box office records and become the tenth highest grossing domestic film of all time) and France, where the original source material was written (in mid-2013 to rave reviews) it eventually landed sparsely in the U.S. on barely a handful of screens. And in the UK it's still yet to be released. 

But thanks to the internet, it is available. Somewhere. Somehow.

Years in the future the human race survives a global devastative winter on a giant, constantly moving express train, which smashes through ice blocks with ultimate ease. A severe class system has been established with those in the rear of the train living in post-war-like poverty with no food and the front end elite controlling every aspect of their existence. Inspirer Chris Evans and aspirer Jamie Bell, sick of the established order, make plans to fight their way out of the back end grunge to the front carriages to fight for and find equality for their fellow carriage folk. And find some steak.

And after that two minute setup Snowpiercer throws you straight from the plotting and planning of the fightback and up to the break ins and breakthroughs of the daring ascent. With so much ground to cover - there are a lot of train carriages - there's no time for history and exposition, and Bong takes the wise decision to drop this information throughout the journey rather than in front of it. What follows is a brutal, uncompromising and action packed ride through the various wilds and wonders of people and places that are crammed into the speeding microcosm of human existence. The sheer imagination and scale of some of the carriage ordeals is breathtaking and often mind blowing, and Bong should really take a huge amount of credit for bringing his expert touch and the stylings of Korean cinema to create such a vision. Each section is a new experience, like a lethal lengthy Crystal Maze, with the carriage of armour clad axe wielders a particular highlight. 

It's conceptually intriguing, the ideas and thematic context elevating it above other standard action movies. The human condition, the power of survival, class systems, the power of consequence, the morality of sacrifice. And axe fights. The only aspect that really suffers is the story, which at times gets bogged down in Matrix-like monologues and musings, and at other times feels (appropriately) simplistic. It's a natural transfer of Asian cinema tropes, and means at times it's a little uneven with some sections slowing the pace down a little too much. This could all be a simple case of lost in translation, both in dialogue and framing, though not so much that it derails the movie, and the benefits of Bongs style and sensibility far outweighs these small grumbles. 

In a rich ensemble Ed Harris and John Hurt offer their thesp skills in the occasional expository moments, and Tilda Swinton steals the show with her harsh Northern twang a severe and ironic statement on the roles society has us fill. Chris Evans is heroic and stoic, his driven hero the driving force of story and Snowpiercer society. Jamie Bell is excellent as ever and Octavia Spencer's powerful mother-figure holds her own in place and action. And then there's Song Hang-Ko, Korean cinematic royalty, the crazy drug-addled visionary who is a part of the revolution for one reason (other than his promised fix) - to get his teenage daughter to a better life. With such an eclectic mix and with each getting their various moments, the films focus on character is commendable and adds real depth to their various journeys and the weight to the bold narrative moves.

It really can't be stressed enough how much of a gem this movie is, beautifully and inventively shot, with enough smarts and out-there moments to fill multiple blockbusters. At times it can be infuriatingly slow, only because at others it is exhilaratingly mental, and despite its flaws it really should be commended. It is baffling as to how its distribution was so badly handled and its a crying shame so many people haven't had the chance to watch it. It feels like a massively missed opportunity, an opportunity many thousands of people would have loved to have had in a theatre setting, where it belongs. And ironically, maybe because of it's storied history - and thanks to the power of the internet - Snowpiercer may have actually been transformed from a missed opportunity into a bona fide cult legend. 

After what it's been through, it's the least it deserves.

Thank you internet. And thank you us.  

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Director: Bong Joon-ho

Featuring: Chris Evans, Jamie Bell, Octavia Spencer, Tilda Swinton, John Hurt, Ed Harris

Power Review - Walk Among The Tombstones

There's no school like the old school.

At times we all pine for the old days. What constitutes the "old days" depends on your point of view - and your age - and the cinematic fare you grow up with can define your movie taste for life, even if those movies are, ahem, less than classic. 

Walk Among The Tombstones is an old school movie that boldly attempts to take a 'classic' movie trope - the ex-cop private eye solves a mystery and saves his soul - and drag it's dismembered corpse out of the lake of history and into the multiplexes. It's a low budget, mid-80's dark thriller shot as a mid-budget retro-revenge chiller, it's still angles and long shots echoing a bygone era but its sharp movement and lush lensing as modern as any blockbuster. 

Liam Neeson is the personification of this old meets new, young and strong enough to convince as someone who can hold his own, mature enough to fit the worn down PI trench coat, which he deftly does. The dialogue is slow, and occasionally over explanatory, but it suits and sits well within itself. It is a slow burner, and takes patience, and is routinely deadly and disturbing, unafraid to go to gore when needed. 

It is flawed in a number of respects - Neeson follows leads to find further information without ever having found the initial lead in the first place; he is the worst PI in movie history, constantly getting one-upped and missing obvious clues; sometimes it is far too slow; Dan Stevens as the drug dealer who's wife has been offed is the best thing about it and in it nowhere near enough - but has enough going for it to forgive these indescretions. It is unrelentingly brutal at times, the ending is satisfying and any movie with a rooftop pidgeon coup conversation is good in my book.

It may not be ground breaking, but it could teach a few new dogs some old tricks.

Lucy

Leon.

Because of Leon, Luc Besson gets a Free Pass for pretty much anything. (I mean cinematically of course). He's a triple threat - a writer, producer and director. He wrote and produced The Transporter. (Who doesn't love The Stath?). But then also Transporter 2 & 3, the continuation of a single idea stretched far too thin. (And now 4 & 5). He wrote and produced Taken, an unrepentant, brutal European revenge and rescue thriller. But also Taken 2 & 3, the dampest of squibs, the most artificially flavoured of movies. Arthur and the Invisibles trilogy (trilogy!), Taxi 1-4, Brick Mansions! (only a writing credit or we could be in trouble). However - FREE PASS! All is forgiven Luc, you gave us Leon! No worries.

But then Lucy. And frankly, I want my money back.

I don't just mean I'm taking back my Free Pass, I want recompence. To define what makes Lucy so terrible is to define 0 on a scale of 1-10. So lets dive in and dissect this beast, as it's already been killed and butchered by the people who made it.

Actually lets take a quick breath and look at what went right (not enough to even get it to 1 out of 10) Scarlett Johansson does her very best to wrestle some semblance of a human being out of her character (ironically, considering Plot Point - she becomes a hyper human. Or a robot) and, in fairness, it's very sleekly shot. And it's short.

And thats it. So...let's start at the very beginning. After the most preposterous start - a voiceover that states "life was given to us a billion years ago. What have we done with it?" and then waster Lucy (ScarJo) and her waster 10-Day boyfriend (It Doesn't Matter) end up outside a large building after an all-night party and he handcuffs a briefcase to her and tells her to take it in for $500 - Lucy goes inside, realises it's a bad idea and while trying to escape 10-Day paints the doors with his insides courtesy of a semi-automatic rifle. Lucy gets taken up to a top floor hotel suite where a number of Asian men (undefined nationality - Min-sik Choi, head baddie, is Korean, so I guess they're going for korean) shepherd her to a desk and after shooting a number of people in the head, force her to watch as the briefcase's blue crystal contents are forced into a half-dead drug addict before making smash with his brains.

It sounds interesting enough. It's not. Many parts of this scenario are preposterous - Choi kills wearing protective gloves and shoes, yet splattering blood over clothes, floors, furniture AND HIS FACE and not giving a damn. I call this scene Anger & Fear, as Choi is angry and Lucy is scared. Nobody shows any discernible depth and the Asian baddie crew might as well be manequins with guns they're so motionless and emotionless. And as if Anger and Fear weren't evident enough through Angry Face and Scaredy Face, this is all intercut by nature clips and scenes of animals being chased or killed or hunting, just in case you missed the cues - this person is ANGRY and this person is SCARED. (As an aside these overused sloppy lazy visual metaphors are inexplicably axed after half an hour, as if someone just got bored putting them in. Or maybe they just forgot.) 

Lest he be left out what is swiftly becoming a frankly terrible party, Morgan Freeman pops up in an unspecified location (University auditorium? Oh yes! This means he is intelligent and well respected) who is on exposition duty for the day, giving a running theoretical commentary on events. Except none of what he says makes any sense, his philosophising 
on existence and the capacity of the brain just rolling next to a young girl being abused by Korean men. Eventually it will all become apparently linked, but even then the nonsense he spouts while actually fairly interesting becomes increasingly ridiculous and then bland and over descriptive.

And we're only half an hour in. After becoming an unwitting drug mule with a bag of blue crystals in her abdomen she gets kicked around by a lower level thug thus splitting said bag and absorbing its contents. Which is obviously what happens after a 3 pound bag of drugs surgically inserted into a 5'6" woman explodes inside her. After some, admittedly impressive, trick camera work following Lucy being thrust around the room while chained to a chair, she becomes...a robot? Oh wait, here comes a big message on screen that says 10% CAPACITY turning into 20% CAPACITY. So that must be what's happening.

At this point I'm sure you see my patience wore so thin it ripped in half. It should get more interesting. It doesn't. Lucy then goes on what seems like a revenge rampage - but is it? She comes across Choi again, and doesn't kill him. She then leaves, phones Interpol and apparently reads their minds - she can tell them what they're doing and where they're from, who their kids are, but somehow can't find the other 3 sliced and spliced drug carriers. Apparently she's looking for them. Then there's the sheer amount of blood, though to what end is not apparent. People get cut open, heads get shot, white walls painted red. As Lucy becomes more powerful the powers she seems to develop seem to be picked up and dropped depending on if she can be bothered. There's no structured development of abilities. She starts by rendering people unconscious with a single thought, yet later on feels the need later on to hand fight a group of men, and then throw them around into walls. Why not just knock everyone out every time? Especially if you're more powerful than before.

Speaking of no structure, Lucy bounces around from place to place, scenario to scenario with no motive at all. Or character. Or development. There's no explanation of narrative, no empathy and way too much theory. Where is she going? Why is she doing this? Where is she now? Things just happen, conversations apparently are had. These conversations are designed purely to get A and B to interact. A good example of this is Lucy calls Morgan Freeman for the first time, and the conversation is basically: 

Lucy: "Hi. I read your hypothesis. I do this. Like you hypothesised" 
Morgan Freeman: "Just like I always imagined. This is great. I like it."

He has no evidence. She offers none. Rather than spend time worrying about how to get characters to believably interact, let's just concentrate on stuff that is awesome, like blood and guns and a hot chick. It's like a high end delivery of a teenagers fever dream, it's purely "what would look cool" with zero substance. 

Ironically, the action is strangely anaesthetised, and even after quite a bombastic end corridor shoot out (which Lucy conveniently ignores), there follows a number of random clips of life events (oh so thats where they all went) and with Morgan Freeman trying to explain it all away again with his assorted boffins, the most ridiculous ending ever committed to screen occurs. Now, I cannot stress enough how absolutely insanely preposterous the ending is. It should be so crazy that it works, and yet it's not. And yet you can't turn away from it. It's like a factory on fire. A terrible, horrific accident. On fire. And then it ends.

And it ends with Lucy saying, in a voiceover (because of the ridiculous ending): "Life was given to us a billion years ago. Now you know what to do with it."

Yup. Take back my Free Pass and watch Leon.

Maze Runner

A boy wakes up in a hole. 

The start of Maze Runner is speechless, breathless and captivating, as our central protagonist finds himself speechless, breathless and in captivity in a rising grated crate through a deep mechanical well. With the focus on the immediate plight of Dylan O'Brien's amnesiac nameless teenager we share his confusion, and as a crowd of adolescent faces peer into said well and he is is dragged into the light, mentally and emotionally we, with he, explore his situation. It's a powerful conceit and forces the audience to find visual clues to fill in the story gaps rather than being told them. Five minutes later newly named "Greenie" gets the full setup delivered on a roughly hewn plate from group leader Alby (Aml Ameen) which swiftly undoes all of the great work done in the previous five minutes.

Which kind of describes the film as a whole. There's a lot to like, and frequently there are surprising and strange moments that make you feel like there is far more to discover in the Glades - the central park of the titular maze housing a community of mind-wiped teen boys - which then gets swiftly explained away or ignored. It leaves the story feeling a little linear and it never quite finds the strength to expand and grow, and the greater mythology around it lies under the surface of the story rather than permeating through it.

It seems like an opportunity missed, and even when you consider its core audience (8-14 year old males), young people nowadays are far more adept at understanding what does and does not make a great movie to know when they're being underserved. That said this is a far stronger effort than, say, the Percy Jackson adaptations, and its Lord of the Lies themes of truth, deception and reality a far more interesting proposition than CGI mythical creatures smashing each other. The microcosmic society, the miniturisation, exploration and manipulation of peoples behaviours and interactions a pre-teen 1984 in a post-Big Brother world.

This group of boys, living a peaceful existence surrounded by towering walls, know the hand their dealt and make the most of it. A few of their number take flight into the labyrinth by day searching for a way out, returning before nightfall for fear of the mysterious and murderous grievers. When Thomas (formerly Greenie, formally unnamed) arrives his inquisitive nature leads to all manner of disruptions. It becomes appropriately grim in places, the full metal arachnid grievers and their raptor growlings a vicious blend of muscle and metal, and the level of guts and goo when one gets squished between two walls will delight and disgust pre-teens and parents alike. A twilight massacre is particularily brutal. The merry band of kids are interesting if pretty stereotypical character tropes - the strong angry one, the fearless leader, the funny fat one, the intelligent brave one (aka. Raphael, Leonardo, Michelangelo and Donatello) but each is played with layers of desperate survivalist fear undertones. And then, all around, there's the maze.

A metaphor for the journey through adolescence? Maybe. As a representation of the impossible odds life has in store it is imposing and quite literally crushing. It's also inventive and well designed for some thrilling set pieces that are used sparingly but expertly. It's the questions of the who and the why that elevate the maze from being a purely physical opponent to an intellectual one, though this is where the film once again slips up. The more interesting who's and why's are there, they're just not...there. Every now and again the questions get asked, and then swiftly it's back to worrying about staying alive. Survival may be the most basic instinct, but there's bigger and more interesting answers out there, and they get lost amongst the running and clanging of metal and brick.

Director Wes Ball should be given a lot of credit for the positives - the acting is solid, the pace good, the action excellent and the whole thing looks great. And maybe its meagre $34 million budget has something to do with its leanness and thereby its missteps, but some things are unforgivable, such as Kaya Scodelario's Teresa who as the lone female is delivered midway to shake things up, and then swiftly disappears into the band of boys serving no discernable purpose, or the last minute dumbo drop of information that, yes, does come as a shock and surprise but also feels like it could've been either been supported more throughout the movie or leaned out and saved for the sequel. As it is it's a little left field and feels like it's playing catch up, throwing backstory and exposition at you for the sake of it. It should've been handled more deftly, and the audience given more credit. 

Which is a shame to end on such a confusing note, after starting so intriguingly. But overall this is an interesting and well made young adult adap, with plenty of promise and far more to say than the average tween-bait.

A boy wakes up in a desert.

World War Z

World War Z was not supposed to do well. In it's formative stages it went from excitable expectation, to purported on set conflict, third act rewrites, $20 million reshoots, and a six month delay. In every critical mind it was a bomb, destined to be sidelined with the great follies of blockbuster cinema.

But the people spoke.

To the tune of $540 million worldwide. People liked it. A lot. And thats because there's a lot to like. 

I've seen World War Z a few times now, and it stands up to repeat viewings. And honestly the long arduous production process (which wasn't as arduous as it's been made out to be, according to director Marc Forster) can be seen all the way through the film, but not with necessarily detrimental effects. Any number of sequels, prequels, threequels and parallelquals are prepped and produced with very specific release dates already set and zero flexibility and it usually manifests in sub-par results, but the extra time taken to get WWZ made right and the extra investment from the studio shows guts, determination and faith in the product they were investing in.

So here's how it goes. A man and his family have breakfast, get in their car and go off somewhere. While stuck in traffic, a few strange cases of road rage end with thousands of sprinting undead tearing into all and sundry. And it all happens in about as much time as it takes to say it. It takes serious kahunas to just get straight to the point, and it really sets the tone. Nothing is explained, the exposition at breakfast only letting us know Brad Pitt's Gerry Lane is "retired" and doesn't like making pancakes. As the Lane family attempt to escape the city we see looters, riots, survivalists and more all running and gunning as far away as possible from the super speedy zekes, culminating in a breathless red flare lit stairwell chase as they rise like deep sea divers to get their heads above the rising tide. This is all the setup that's needed, no lengthy dialogue exchanges, just small moments from Gerry where his expertise and history is demonstrated and discovered visually rather than discussed verbally.

Dialogue is appropriate, nothing forced, just quick familial conversations. Some of it is even too quiet to hear distinctly. His interactions with his family are human, in what he says to them but also what he doesn't (his wife's suggestions to take his 'work talk' elsewhere for example is a small but more normal moment.) Having said that dialogue isn't really the point of WWZ now is it. It's all about the rush, the panic and the fear. Zombies have been used as metaphors for many themes in film, and while the specifics may be diluted here the sheer volume and velocity of the spread of the virulent strain is emphatic to say the least, emblematic of any theme such as hatred, greed, nature or death. As Gerry globe-trotts his way following whatever breadcrumbs he can to find patient zero, nations come together, races embrace and religions walk side by side showing that in the face of cataclysmic danger there are no borders or boundaries. In reality it only serves to show that the one thing that doesn't have boundaries is danger itself, as it tears through crowds with no respect for person or privilege or position.

And so the virus rips through country after country, seemingly following Gerry around like, well, a virus, and the high octane crazy keeps on coming. And as if to prove how futile resistance actually is almost everyone Gerry meets end up as pure zombie fodder. Great pains are taken to show Elyes Gabel's virologist as the possible saviour of humanity, the man with a plan, a cure maybe, and his expiration is hilarious and swift, he being one of many characters introduced and promptly dispatched. One wonders what the original cut (minus the third act switch) had planned for these peripheral characters. Certainly Matthew Fox's ten seconds of screen time would have been expanded on. Not that he's necessarily missed, for as mentioned while any number of changes to the film are obvious they're not unwelcome or disrupting.

Which leads us to the final third. After an hour and a quarter of relentless running and fighting and paranoia all of a sudden the film completely switches gear. And I mean completely. It's almost like a different film, which isn't a bad thing. It's reminiscent of the early zombie movies or Romero, and early video games like Resident Evil, and is a bold and striking move. Yet it feels like a completely natural transition and leads to probably the most tense sequence of the entire film, and credit is due to the incoming writers and the producers for taking that step and being willing to let go of what must have been multi-million dollars worth of original footage. Ultimately it's allowed to be a more personal and human finish than a big bang smash n grab would've been and all told it's a welcome shift in what was already a surprising movie. 

So here's to more delays, more rewrites and more reshoots. 

It's what the people want.