A comparison with the 1982 original makes it easy to demonstrate how much movies have given themselves over to men’s journeys in recent decades. [This post is not behind the paywall.]
If you have any inclination to see this, just rewatch the original. You will lose nothing, and you’ll have a far better time.
A hilariously histrionic depiction of 19th-century superstar violinist Niccolò Paganini’s rise to fame, far more Monty Python than Mozart.
The few outright scares are curiously circumspect, but the old-fashioned Hammer Horror atmosphere is appealingly spooky.
Oh, glorious steampunk! Oh, glorious Victoriana! Oh, for a time when men were men (and not little boys) and industry meant hard work (and not corporate malfeasance) and optimism (and not despair) ruled the day. When the future was so bright, you hadda wear shades.
Crazy hot girl is hot, I guess. Is there something perceived to be sexy about mental illness? Cuz there would appear to be no purpose here unless it’s intended to get lonely horny guys off on the idea of the tediously banal Amber Heard locked in a depressing mental institution and subject to electroshock therapy rocking her bod.