Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder. But even when you explode that eye in a gloriously tasteful manner, it’ll still be easy for most viewers to recognise the ugliness of a generally bland film. Immortals doesn’t bother to hide its main objective: delivering an optical overload. It achieves this; it’s a visual splendour that delivers the Picasso of violence. But even so, it’s impatient storytelling techniques leave it devoid of personality. It‘s a pretty film to be sure, but it wore off me quickly, like dating a ridiculously attractive girl whose only hobby is collecting different types of potpourri.
YEAH... NAH...
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