The Windermere Children

When I was growing up, the horrors of World War II and Nazi oppression still weighed heavily on hearts and minds, and cultures went to great soulful lengths to instructively ensure they wouldn't be forgotten. 

You didn't have to search for very long to find outlets condemning the racist violence, and politicians who condoned hatred had very short-lived careers.

The state of the public sphere today is a reckless mess. There's no general emphasis on consensus or teamwork or collegiality or reconciliation, just a mad reactionary groundless onslaught of grotesque irresponsibility. 

Even something as consensus building as a plague has been divisively politicized, and official acts of incredible stupidity abound with gleeful unconcern.

But if I remember correctly, sowing deep rooted contempt for government by promoting bureaucratic chaos (the government appears to be dysfunctional all the time so people lose faith in politics) is a far right strategy, which is being employed ad infinitum to champion sheer catastrophe (see Chomsky).

The Nazis took power in such a climate in hopeless post-War Germany, and unleashed an unprecedented deluge of hate that crippled Europe for decades.

The holocaust was the most revolting undertaking ever unleashed on unsuspecting peoples, and the racist ideologies that encouraged it are once more circulating in the public sphere.

The Windermere Children presents survivors of that unimaginable horror, that extreme repugnant terror that claimed millions of innocent lives.

To see what the kids have been reduced to near the beginning of the film, is to witness utter despondency pure and ghastly total war.

But thanks to the caring endeavours of a British philanthropist and a group of teachers, they were delicately nursed back to health as the film wondrously demonstrates.

There are politicians like Biden who truly care about humanistic enterprise, and have no interest in dividing a nation into disparate unintegrated groups.

They seek non-violent productive community, not the profits of war.

The world can be more peaceful, it's just a matter of respect and productivity.

A focus on international community.

That doesn't leave behind individualistic ambition. 

The Island

Every day like every other, a clone colony habitually persisting, keeping productive, following the rules, maintaining social distance, no need for further questions.

They believe they've survived a plague that has destroyed all life above ground, and that they're lucky to have escaped civilization's wanton biological destruction.

They have friends and abundant contacts but everything's been accounted for, there isn't the slightest most minuscule deviation from their overlord's strategic plan.

Traditionally this passes unnoticed, like routine shifts undiversified ubiquitous, until one clone (Ewan McGregor as Lincoln Six Echo) starts to question his existence, thereby challenging the consummate order.

There's one way to overcome confinement, they must be chosen to move to the island, the last vestige of sustainable life, still enriching upon the surface.

A glorious day if they win the lottery, full of felicity and jaunty applause, vigorous opportunities surely awaiting, joyous pastimes inveterate pause.

But while sleuthing Six Echo discovers an unspoken terrifying master narrative, which he must share with his blind compatriots, if they're ever to know robust justice.

He breaks free with his frightened love interest (Scarlett Johansson as Jordan Two Delta) to the unforgiving world beyond, mercenaries intent on tracking them down, as they flee for the wilds of Los Angeles. 

Perhaps not the best time to be reviewing The Island, considering its metaphorical import, but it is just a film after all, and COVID-19's a viral reality.

Frustrating to see the spread of fake news which refuses to believe COVID-19 exists, which doesn't take the pandemic seriously, such narratives will only ensure the plague intensifies.

You can also see The Island as a metaphorical critique of working in unregulated industry, without safety procedures or sick days, or pension or difference or critique.

You can work for months for years without incident, but to last decades without sustaining injury is against the imposing odds.

Thus you live in relative comfort with everything provided for year after year, but eventually you have to make sacrifices which seriously endanger your health.

Critiques of the situation aren't tolerated, and accessible knowledge only relates to your job, you can get to know people but not seriously, and you're stuck eating what a computer suggests.

The ending's like the emergence of self-employment, or paid sick leave, higher wages, and an ombudsperson, plus the ability to live somewhere else besides work, and spend your income on manifold goods and services.

If I remember correctly The Island wasn't well received but I'd argue it's one of Michael Bay's best. 

I've never seen him so concerned with social justice.

It's solid thought provoking sci-fi.

6 Underground

A self-made billionaire well-versed in hardboiled expression embraces volatile altruism after having been reanimated (Ryan Reynolds as One).

Having given up on the political process (not me), and assembled an eclectic mulitdimensional team, he proceeds to take on a cruel haughty despot, who bombs schools and gasses his own people.

His brother's the exact opposite and would rule by upstanding means, if he wasn't locked down in a lavish penthouse under cloistered lock and key.

The mission: take out the despot's generals to destabilize the military, then free the forlorn bro from ostentatious disenchantment. Afterwards head to the nation in question to launch a coup and inaugurate political reform. Try not to make friends along the way. And engage in optic dissimilitude.

The team is ready and willing to achieve herculean ascension.

It's full-on cloak and dagger.

With sensationalist logistics.

I don't mean to critique their ambition nor mitigate their heroic impact. Despots who tyrannize their own people when they could be educating them or encouraging communal development are certainly disheartening. 

6 Underground's still somewhat basic, however, with sharp divisions, like a Western for kids, morals fitting snuggly within a domain that overlooks contradictory realities, not that the domain doesn't appease widespread outrage, or challenge ennui claiming nothing can be done.

In this instance, sending in an elite independent group to bring about political reform within a repressed nation seems apt, and there's even a plan to smoothly transition from one political platform to another. No decades of fighting afterwards by warring factions with no interest in harmony. No general hunger or unrest or unemployment while the country tries to figure out what to do.

Haven't both left and right wing proponents encouraged clandestine coups around the globe to disastrous effect, though, isn't political change more substantial if it's self-generated, as seems to have been the case in many currently peaceful countries?

It would be nice if things were as simple as 6 Underground makes them out to be, but simple solutions for problems this complex are often sought for nefarious means.

The film resolutely approaches the fight against tyranny with rapid fire multidisciplinary dialogue, but it's also abounding with gratuitous violence, prostitution, and characters lacking identity.

If you're critiquing a despot for using poisonous gas on his own people, you shouldn't have your heroes use gas to attain their goals later on, even if their gas is harmless.

I know the characters aren't supposed to know each other due to mission parameters, but this film would have been stronger with much more character depth.

Depth of action excels in the opening moments, however, with the best car chase I've ever seen.  

It's a solid action film.

That loses something in its naive oversimplification.

Flash Gordon

Here's a film that's much better the second time round.

During my first viewing, a logical bias prevented me from appreciating the freeform glib absurdity, as I engaged in rational calculation rather than unlocking wondrous intuition.

True, the script provides scant detail as it embraces grand complication, a motivating reason consistently postulated, without much time added for thought or pause.

And these reasons conjure unerring as Flash (Sam J. Jones) confronts intergalactic authority, in a complex web of political fascination, stitched together with impacting law.

Studied skilfully nurtured pretensions led to accusations of the ridiculous, of disenchanted criticism unilaterally applied.

But when I laid down to watch it again I couldn't wait to bask in frenzy, in chaotic disproportion altruistically askew.

Characters once dismissed as empty took on vibrant intense substance, and a plot thought to be immersed in dispatch emerged with complementary cohesion.

There's something to be said for fun, for lightheartedly revelling on set, Gordon's jocose mischievous nonchalance concerned with neither plight nor threat.

And after anticipated reasonability gives way to cultivated implausibility, the joy of filmmaking viscerally shines through, as it jumps from scene to scene.

It's not that the film's irrational, in fact with multiple short and sweet scenes moving the action along, it abounds with agile meaning, multifacetedly composed.

But considering what needs to happen and the likelihood of even considering such an unorthodox plan, the constant eruptions of clever catalysts seem too radical before amazement's factored in.

True to form, Flash Gordon never forgets that it is based upon a comic book, and I'm uncertain if ever I've seen another comic book film so admirably respect its illustrious origins.

In comparison to contemporary Marvel and DC films they're certainly less controversial, less likely to lose large swaths of their target audiences due to impulse, inspiration, or feeling.

But I'll watch Flash Gordon again anytime, perhaps because they had no clue what they were doing, yet still strung something together that's exceptional, not to mention epically imbued (production design by Danilo Donati).

I'm not saying Marvel and DC should stray from what works for them.

But Flash Gordon's spirit's no doubt electrifying.

Like wild influential discontinuum.

*Once again, it's cool to see works of art that seem as if they're uncertain as to how to proceed. This doesn't work so well in sports or politics. Where such an aspect is foolish or frightening.   

Neko to Shôzô to futari no onna (Shozo, A Cat and Two Women)

Lazy Shôzô (Hisaya Morishige) catches a break when his lacklustre relationship suddenly dissolves, much to his mother's (Yuko Minami) delight, and perhaps also that of his cat.

He's seeing someone else who's not adverse to domestic subversion, but she's somewhat younger than he is, and prone to fits of righteous outrage (Kyôko Kagawa).

She's quite rich however so Shôzô's mom adores the match, and counsels thoughtful feeling as opposed to obtuse thatch.

But Shôzô's wife (Isuzu Yamada) soon strives aggrieved to reverse the situation, for her sister isn't too enthused with providing accommodation. 

Another seeks to rent the room and will pay three times as much, so she needs swift clever calculation manipulatively clutched.

She knows of one thing Shôzô loves more than anything at that, his distant furtive purcolating agile nimble cat.

Even more than escapading, even more than sleeping in, he loves his tactile independent erudite unhinged.

Cat. 

He loves his cat and his ex-wife knows it and wants to live somewhere less packed, so she tempts her newfound rival to consider devote paths.

She declares to lazy Shôzô that he must freely chose, betwixt his age old loving feline and his cherished muse.

Mother pleads and even begs he listen to her sweetly, the rent is due their business through she explains quite discreetly.

But he's determined unabashed to abide by no one's will, other than that which surmises lackadaisic chill.

It's an odd sort of comedy that boldly theorizes what life would be like for someone who's never sought to do anything at all, whom the opposite sex still finds irresistible.

His shop doesn't make money, he doesn't even know what to charge for the items he sells, he sleeps half the day and loves to spend time at the beach, and his mother's stuck coming up with the rent, yet he's still sought after and even fought for due perhaps to bucolic notoriety. 

Shôzô, even though he has lived as an adult for quite some time, still knows nothing of worldly affairs that don't facilitate relaxation.

Yet he still loves, he loves spending time with his cat: should this loyal devotion be criticized?

Should he be reprimanded or even assailed for living an honest life?

Never feeling lash nor censure?

Boldly sought after.

Loved?

The Cat's-Paw

A man raised in China by missionaries suddenly finds himself in New York, his first trip back home to the States since he was but the weest lad.

Unaccustomed to anything besides a life of study in rural environs, he accidentally finds himself running to become mayor of the bustling city.

The party he represents is controlled by their opposition, and was instructed to find a candidate who would without a doubt most certainly lose.

But as fate would have it through blind dumb luck he aptly wins race, and proceeds to set the highest bar altruistically apace.

He's also searching for a wife to one day bring back to Asia, and meets a streetwise countergirl breathtaking poised regalia.

Having no knowledge of worldly affairs and even less of bureaucratic intrigue, he governs according to the philosophy of Ling Po, a Chinese sage he's studied exhaustively. 

His alternative methods disgruntle his adversaries who are used to the status quo, and unfamiliar with philosophy, and none too pleased with all the extra work.

They take advantage of Ezekiel's (Harold Lloyd) innocence and soon he's the victim of a scandal.

To which he fluidly responds with an ancient epic gamble.

The Cat's-Paw's wondrous naive enthusiasm generates holistic applause, as working solutions combat corruption in a metamorphic state of bureaucratic nature.

Ezekiel applies his knowledge with well-meaning bold intent, and finds effective cost cutting measures that encourage less dependent fiscal enterprise.

It's fun to watch as a sheltered intellectual governs with no strings attached, his worldly shocked advisors in a constant state of panic.

A sense of calm restorative ease ascends as he honestly settles the score, like deficits and graft and cons will fade forevermore.

But for every wide-eyed dreamer who ably governs through ancient texts, a hundred more and then some keep them historically in check.

Certainly old school writings can influence the present, but when they outstrip their mortal bonds things become rather unpleasant.

That is, new sets of circumstances inevitably emerge (an overpopulated planet, extremely stressed environmental resources) to which the antiquated writings cannot be applied, and if cultures need new strategies to solve the unprecedented problems, a reliance upon ancient texts can be problematic.

You would think they would simply adapt to reasonable scientific observation.

But that doesn't seem to happen.

Perennially at odds, no progress, no quarter. 

The Highwaymen

Two old school lawpersons are tasked with tracking Bonnie & Clyde, who have unleashed a rampant crime spree on unsuspecting middle-America.

They've been on the road for most their lives but had recently been enjoying retirement, until the stakes became too high and Ma Ferguson (Kathy Bates) came a' callin'.

Their knowledge gives them a shrewd leg up as they set out in search of madness, the couple already having shot 6 professionals, and evaded capture amidst spurned ubiquity.

The outlaws are loved and cherished which makes acquiring information difficult, and they're familiar with multiple jurisdictions and have widespread contacts along the way.

But Frank Hamer (Kevin Costner) and Maney Gault (Woody Harrelson) are familiar with drastic protocol, and confident in their sleuthing, even if they've aged since yesteryear.

They vigorously hit the road in search of moribund crisis.

Casting roll call aside.

The limits of their territory presenting non-negotiable constraints, they engage like wild frontierpersons, inviolable stalwart contingencies. 

Difficult to say if it's a matter of luck or swift determination that lithely guides them. 

But they do proceed unerring.

Omniscient, as it's written.

Perhaps written a bit too directly, as if Frank and Maney possessed divine instinct, and were therefore justified in taking reckless steps, to put an end to the wanton bloodshed.

I suppose Bonnie & Clyde were exceptional inasmuch as they gunned down so many policepersons, and seemed like they were getting away with it, across so many state lines.

But so many others are shot down by the police in routine circumstances having done no wrong (so many of them African Americans), The Highwaymen's more of a character study of grim fatalistic rangers, than a multidimensional perplexity replete with cultural intrigue.

It's cool to see so much Costner and Harrison, but a closer examination of the abstruse terrain would have been clever.

Not that the film isn't intelligent it just employs a less intricate style, like the honest controversial scenarios you find in a derelict western.

It's not that it isn't well done with several thoughtful memorable scenes, it's just so bluntly good vs. evil that so much is lost in between.

If it's remembered that the circumstances are exceptional and Bonnie & Clyde need to be hunted down that's one thing, but its one-dimensional promotion of the evil criminal implicitly suggests so many are absolutely guilty.

And that's simply not the case, circumstance and upbringing should be considered, prejudicial shackles and hopeless impoverishment often resulting in misguided crime.

Not that people should get away with it or victims shouldn't have their say, but the reasons explaining why someone chooses a life of crime go far beyond cookie cut polarities.

Good jobs, a foreseeable future, can lead to much less poverty.

An emphasis on racial equality can fight against internalized prejudice. 

Nakitai watashi wa neko wo kaburu (A Whisker Away)

First love strikes an eccentric youth and harrowingly passes unnoticed, the would be love interest concerned with other things, and rather embarrassed by her written declaration.

Fortunately she's accidentally met a cat spirit who facilitates transformation, who provides her with an enchanted mask which gives her the power to frisk and frolic.

With the opportunity to become a cat, Miyo (Cherami Leigh) visits Kento (Johnny Yong Bosch) in disguise, and learns of his intimate secrets, while thoroughly enjoying the rapt attention.

But as time passes she learns that the deal has spiritual reciprocations ethereally attached, and that just as she can take on cat form, cats can become human if they're granted a mask.

Cat form begins to seem preferable and soon Miyo's lost the ability to change back, and will soon transform irrevocably if he she can't retrieve her hominid craft.

But her old cat has stolen her identity and seeks to remain supported upright, human lifespan's lasting much longer than animate feline respites. 

The cat spirit will obtain Miyo's lifespan if she's unable to switch back in time.

Her prospects become more and more unappealing.

Even after discovering a secret cat sanctuary.

Nakitai watashi wa neko wo kaburu (A Whisker Away) criticizes rash passion as it proceeds without forethought or consideration, anxieties generated by discourse immutable, by sincere feeling somewhat overdrawn.

I suppose in terms of genuine emotion lacking precedent it honestly depicts incipient l'amour, and therefore doesn't have to be thought of as reckless, as it's freely and honestly presented.

The idea's a good one I agree, transformative comprehensive adventure, with chillaxed elements quizzically diversifying, like the magical realm only cats can see.

I thought it could have provided more detail, more elaborate interdimensional parlay, we're introduced to an intriguing world of cats but don't learn that much about it.

A comical exploration of the trials of first love or bewildering newfound infatuation, how to go about expressing the irrational as it pertains to another, amicably, perhaps is one way to describe it.

Familial bonds and sympathetic friendship offer counsel throughout the transition, although there's not much they can do as she becomes more and more anthropomorphic.

It's fun to watch as the cat becomes human and embraces her expanded capabilities, I'd wager animals transforming into humans hasn't been explored enough in the history of cinema.

Perhaps I'm too old for this one but having read the synopsis I couldn't resist. 

Life can be so serious at times. 

It's cool that Netflix is making cat movies. 

Wonder

A child who looks different anxiously prepares for the fifth grade, having been homeschooled up to this point by his mom (Julia Roberts), having made little contact with the outside world (Jacob Tremblay as Auggie), now ready to thoughtfully engage.

His mother and father (Owen Wilson) are more nervous than he is, as he courageously departs, sincerely worried about their son, whom they've diligently help to prepare.

His sister (Izabela Vidovic as Via) provides prudent counsel and lays down the skeletal score, a brief barebones adolescent treatise, on inherent enervating distress.

But he's a gamer, he doesn't back down, although he's faced with acerbic prejudice, he hangs in there and academically excels, making some chill real friends along the way.

Wonder isn't just focused on him though, the trials of several young people are explored, their struggles compassionately and intricately blended, as they deal with scholastic realities.

The result's a well-rounded take offering diverse perspectives on the challenges youth face, while trying to carve out an identity, and freely fit in at school.

Parents too, the shocks of child rearing, the difficulties of trying to let go, to be there whenever and wherever, without smothering the affable flow.

It's great to see such honest loving parents who abound with enriching guidance, who don't shy away from the hardboiled vortex, but don't dwell or fixate on it either.

The troubles are there, they haven't been whitewashed, but Wonder still presents lighthearted community, or instances where peeps don't have to defend themselves, since they've found rewarding playful friendship.

Difference is a wonderful thing and adds so much spice to cultural life. Just think of a hot pot of chilli with the more ingredients the merrier.

Taking the time to consider what people are going through instead of bluntly embracing base instinct, can lead to enlivening gatherings overflowing with laidback novelty (post-COVID).

There's so much of an emphasis on power and control these days that it's easy to forget some people just want to talk, without enacting the "holier-than-thou", or resorting to blunt fatalism.

Just because someone has more money it doesn't mean that they're a jerk, just because someone's speech isn't prim and polished it doesn't mean they have nothing to say.

You may find people who comprehend subjects that don't lead to the acquisition of wealth, radiate creative synergies regenerating soulful stealth.

It seems like it'd be easier if youthful discourse permeated the working world, but Wonder demonstrates how difficult it is for youngsters themselves to generate chillaxed disclosure.

It's an excellent film promoting understanding that's neither too harsh nor sentimental.

Rich with compelling observation.

Cheeky poignant and studious kindness.