Tango & Cash

Two exceptional cops pursuing justice in L.A, the press following their daring exploits, local ne'er do wells unimpressed.

They usually get-'er-done without relying on standard procedure, their results curtailing grand transgressions, their methods critiqued with aggrieved resolve.

They wind up causing so much commotion that they're targeted with cunning foresight, a crime boss thinking it foolish to murder them, preferring to see them locked up instead.

Tango (Sylvester Stallone) is prim and polished if not somewhat bold and reckless, employing formal codes of conduct in both random discussions and choice of attire.

Cash (Kurt Russell) pursues law and order with more passionate critical zeal, unconcerned with upper crust etiquette while expressing himself with enthused vitriol.

A disputatious team polemically and audaciously emerges, as they're both sent to a rowdy prison where they've crossed paths with many an inmate.

Unfortunately for them, the prison guards and much of the administration have been bought by the very same adversary, who was responsible for framing them beforehand, and even stops by to see them electrocuted (Jack Palance as Yves Perret).

Their only chance is escape back at it within the world at large. 

The force reluctant to rearrest them.

At least for 48 hours.

Stallone and Russell actively deliver a fast paced energetic vortex, like a hyperreactive embargo fluidly reverberating high stakes stasis.

From the way it's presented you'd think it's as lucid as hands-on practical exoteric reckoning, if something crazy didn't happen every five minutes to keep the wild plot counterpoising on.

Indeed I wondered if they were characters from a comic book I'd never heard of at times, the entertaining over-the-top scenarios innately fantastic phenomenonally spawned.

If it had been made in the 21st century it likely would have had multiple sequels, it's hard to imagine they didn't make another one, but it was released before the internet and Netflix.

Perhaps that's for the best since it does go way too far, in terms of cowboy cops using brazen violence to achieve jurisprudent ends.

At times anti-immigrant sentiment also bursts forth, and rehabilitative prison goals are directly scrutinized.

I'm afraid I'll have to argue that this one's too prone to discipline and punishment, take a couple of lines out and it's much improved, too sensational for its feigned reasonability.

Daring cop drama tainted by excessive force, lockdowns, and xenophobia, still cool to see Russell and Stallone at odds, they've made many chill films, this one's just too outrageous. 

Love & Monsters

As a giant asteroid heads towards Earth, international consensus launches a strike, of hundreds of volatile nuclear missals, which mange to chaotically get 'er done.

But unfortunately the fallout from the explosions leads to extreme environmental disaster, as tiny insects see exponential growth, and proceed to take out most of humanity.

The survivors live in isolated communities kept in close contact through radio, able to survive and gather food on the surface as long as they can avoid the inveterate beasties.

Joel Dawson (Dylan O'Brien) lives with a tight-knit community resiliently composed through extracurricular agency, but he's generally critiqued by his fellow survivalists for lacking determined battle hardened wherewithal.

But he still adventurously dreams of love lost in the bitter apocalypse, and is able to contact his cherished love interest through old school tenderized trusted technologies. 

Tired of having no opportunity to prove himself, he decides to head out to meet her (Jessica Henwick as Aimee), the distance daunting the quest calamitous, resources scanty, awareness, lacking.

But to dream is to resonate spirit ethereally expanding through limitless boundaries, and Joel possesses indomitable daring romantically synergizing illustrious l'amour.

Naturally, she's moved on when he reaches her but it was still worth the herculean effort.

Which taught him to cultivate courage.

And randomly reflex and improvise.

A dramatic tale comedically denoting sci-fi love in a time a horror, Love & Monsters champions reveries within localized epic congress.

The foolish flourish, ferment, and flounder, yet still matriculate through honest endeavour, trials tantalizing friendship impressed with neither recollection nor spastic endurance.

I suppose if at one time you have billions of insects and then perhaps millions of them mutate to gigantic proportions, their numbers may drastically decrease in the aftermath, if they also take on the reproductive rates of lions or tigers.

But would reproductive rates have been effected, wouldn't the abundant gigantic insects reproduce at such a rate that the Earth's bountiful resources would be consumed in less than a fortnight?

Perhaps not, there's not much data to go on, but fortunately forests remain in tact, and even if humanity's scattered and demoralized, there's still communication and interactive hope.

Joel's an understanding protagonist who can go with or direct the flow.

Encouraged by trial and error.

Seeds of resolute calm. 

The Year of Living Dangerously

Arriving within the tantalizing unknown with no contacts and resolute viability, working within unfamiliar parameters exhilarating recourse refined animation.

The ambiguous reflexes of the bold indeterminate fluidly encouraging resilient jazz rhythms, inordinate pluck and lithe tenacity generate immersion beyond expression.

Mr. Hamilton (Mel Gibson) finds himself far from Australia working his first assignment as a foreign correspondent, with no contacts and a relative lack of sympathy locking down conducive facilitated succession. 

Fortunately compassionate reason curiously materializes from the opaque outset, and an integrated ethicist possessing spry fluencies lends a hand and quizzical quarter (Linda Hunt as Billy Kwan). 

Hamilton is able at least to write about something after the interviews he cleverly conducts, but he's arrived at a pivotal moment in local history wherein which intriguing narratives harrowingly instigate.

By no means shy, he pursues the lead with undaunted gripping paramount resolve. 

Risking both life and flourishing love interest (Sigourney Weaver as Jill Bryant). 

To discover impeccable headlines. 

Tough to say where the cynosure harkens with the most consequent influential reckoning, if it's not Montréal, New York, or Denver, it's slipped past my residual wanderings.

Why one location would ever be so prominent in a multifaceted international continuum?, makes less sense to me than the lateral alternative expanding networks exponential variability.

But if you like where you're living it certainly seems as if it embodies practical universalization, especially if such considerations concern it in the least and it could care less about generalized pertinence. 

At times it seems it would be wonderful to simply stay on the island forever.

If you didn't know people elsewhere.

Or have thrilling engagements at times beyond borders.

That sense is captured in The Year of Living Dangerously which makes its environs seem cataclysmically irresistible, as so many films set in specific locations do, future research compelling forthcoming.

The enticing poise of the unfamiliar subtly celebrated like vital novelty.

I finally saw this film.

Linda Hunt doesn't disappoint. 

Crocodile Dundee II

Back at it.

Livin' the cosmopolitan crescendo with carefree commitment and resonant calm, his bucolic mannerisms and coy misunderstandings an immersive backwoods buoyant imbroglio (Paul Hogan as Crocodile Dundee). 

His wife continues reporting interrogatively investigating fiction and fact (Linda Kozlowski as Sue Charlton), while enjoying the comforts of bold unpredictable youthful regenerative domesticity. 

But she was married once before and her daring ex-husband has taken perilous photographs (Dennis Boutsikaris as Bob Tanner), of a blunt unforgiving cacophonous execution overflowing with diabolical intrigue. 

He fears for his life and sends her the photos but their destination is soon intercepted, the ne'er-do-wells following them to bustling New York where they engage in flagrant kidnapping.

Crocodile soon learns of his wife's disappearance and comes up with a plan to facilitate rescue, enlisting the aid of a local network of free-wheeling chillaxed non-traditional peeps.

Their unorthodox plan is indeed a success but Dundee doesn't trust the witness relocation program.

And heads with his wife to the hospitable outback.

To range and rustle secluded down under.

A delicate blend of the grim and the gossamer mischievously materializes at ease within the film, as a lighthearted spirit prone to adventurous reckoning reconciles wisdom with resolute tact.

Indigenous knowledge inviolable custom effortlessly guides his freeform endeavours, nature encyclopedically grasped and authenticated through active study and lively application.

The script's logic may perhaps raise questions regarding the plausibility of a detail here and there, the kidnappers pursuit perhaps rather foolhardy considering their destination and incomprehension.

It isn't really that concerned with probability or likelihood however, just that you love the rugged Crocodile as he interacts and explores in different environs.

He is a fascinating character and well-worth checking out if you're unfamiliar. His films were incredibly popular in my youth and I still love watching them to this day.

Traditional gender roles are even creatively deconstructed as Mick discovers urban flexibility, and adapts to the equanimous rhythms of multifaceted abstract economies. 

There's remarkable bush in the wilds of Québec and Canada as well, but I don't recall ever seeing a rural/urban divide ever examined so respectfully in a homegrown film.

Lots of potential there anyways.

Building bridges.

Can't wait to see more of Québec. 

With Charles S. Dutton (Leroy Brown), Kenneth Welsh (Brannigan), Stephen Root (DEA Agent), John Meillon (Walter Reilly), Steve Rackman (Donk), Gerry Skilton (Nugget), and Maggie Blinco (Ida). 

Diner

A group of tight-knit childhood friends gather together during the Holiday Season, real world responsibilities clashing with rambunctious innocence, as traditional character flamboyantly illustrates, and habitual boredom is resolutely challenged.

Robert Sheftell (Mickey Rourke) overflows with appealing audacity which local residents find irresistible, apart from the bookies with whom he makes bets, without the requisite cash to cover them.

William Howard (Tim Daly) is considering a Masters but his old school sweetheart's pregnant (Kathryn Dowling as Barbara), and has a career of her own, and doesn't want to get married.

Edward Simmons (Steve Guttenberg) isn't as scholastically endowed, but will agree to get married, if his partner can pass his prick of a football test, what a fan, what a disgraceful romantic.

Laurence Schreiber (Daniel Stern) can't find things to talk about with his wife (Ellen Barkin as Beth Schreiber) and critiques her disregard for his record collection, still finding it more entertaining to chill out with his friends, selling TVs by day, doing whatever by night.

Timothy Fenwick Jr. (Kevin Bacon) can't grow up either although he's less responsibly attached or attuned, his older brother thinking he's up to no good, his unorthodox shenanigans proving his point.

They're chillin' in the same neighbourhood where they grew up, their plans hatched in a popular local diner.

Where eccentrics and stock characters alike.

Frequent the tastes of 1950s America.

Diner celebrates young adult antics as they reckon with cultural codes, innate desires to persevere carefree encountering disorienting sober perplexities. 

It's a classic case of trying to find something to do when everything's been done and what's left you mistrust, emerging from teenage triumph and adolescent angst to discern discrepancy with bewildered consequence.

Fortunately bucolic history and reliable community observe and interact, mistakes forgiven impulses soothed hypotheses tested ridiculousness nurtured. 

The limits tightening although not without friendly moments of clarity and avuncular understanding.

It's pretty strait-laced peeps striving to create with the domains of family, church, and football, rebellious instincts paradigmatically ensconced within nightly news broadcasts and 9 to 5 days.

Not without its charm through its general relevance to volatile small town/suburban life.

Boredom boxed, mischief manifested.

Resilient friendship.

Fries and gravy.  

The Wizard

An autistic youth struggling to comprehend the sudden passing of his twin sister, buckles down and heads out on the road (Luke Edwards as Jimmy Woods), both sets of parents rather unsettled by his departure, he's swiftly located, and brought back home.

It's a pattern, so he heads out again this time with the aid of an older brother (Fred Savage as Corey Woods), who doesn't want to see him committed to a psychiatric institution which is where he would have wound up.

The two travel unfettered undisciplined until they reach an accommodating bus station, where they meet Haley (Jenny Lewis) who's on her way home and discover Jimmy has a knack for video games.

Not just a knack, he's exceptionally talented, so much so that Haley suggests they head to Los Angeles, and enter the "Video Armageddon" competition taking place a few days away.

But they're being tracked by two separate sleuths one a father and brother team (Beau Bridges as Sam Woods and Christian Slater as Nick Woods respectively), the other a slimy weaselly reptilian eager to make a quick opportune buck (Will Seltzer as Mr. Putnam). 

Jimmy may have a natural gift for video game playing but he's still unfamiliar with many exemplars, so Corey and Haley take him to "Nintendo School" so he can practice, prepare, and prognosticate. 

Will they reach their sought after destination in time for the vigorous showdown, or will parental responsibility assert immobile lockdown?

Families split on how to proceed.

Competing diagnoses clashing best practices. 

The Wizard imagines adventurous purpose to pursue quizzical unorthodox therapy, ie., rather than place the child who keeps wandering away in therapy, why not try to find out where he's going?

Their trip could have more closely resembled a video game in its resilient collegial questing, insofar as a more calamitous test of endurance would have been more reminiscent of something like Zelda.

But it's lighthearted and free and easy less concerned with hardship or tribulation, not that obstacles don't present themselves, they're just not so intense and at times rather comic.

If you love video games I reckon The Wizard may provide ample lackadaisical endearment, as several characters including Jimmy's father embrace unheralded electronic inspiration.

The games focused upon may perhaps provide historical import as well, an examination of ye olde old school to function as an instructive comparison.

I never made it very far with video games myself, I just didn't see the point after I reached a certain age.

I've missed out on quite a lot of conversation consequently.

And the occasional not-so-subtle reference.

Outcast

A ruler seeks a less combative way to cultivate his culture's destiny, and denies the throne to his first born son, who flourishes amidst rage and conflict.

But the studious son he chooses is not well-versed in the vicissitudes of intrigue (Bill Su Jiahang as Prince Zhao), and even though he has been chosen, he must flee to avoid his brother's wrath (Andy On as Prince Shing). 

The ruler passes, his heartfelt wishes bluntly ignored and traditionally outweighed, but as coincidence or fate would have it, his vision finds an honourable adherent. 

For a lone warrior ruined by the crusades is randomly wandering his vast kingdom (Hayden Christensen as Jacob), in search of potent spiritual redemption, lost in drink and purposeless posture. 

He senses injustice and agrees to defend the literary lad along with his devout sister (Yifei Liu as Princess Lian), who are trying to reach the wilds beyond a far off mountain, where they believe they'll indeed be safe.

But his brother's minions pursue them everywhere and they're soon betrayed by those they trust, the lone warrior fortunately formidable gallantly gifted focused resolute. 

But he's haunted by ghastly past lives that left him doubtful and woebegone.

The doubts challenged through stern conviction.

Independent freelance, robustly trained.

Outcast presents insurmountable odds disputing courtesy, tact, and diplomacy, as the intellectual spirit yearns for transformation, in an epoch plagued by war.

If I remember details from a Chinese history course I took way back correctly, China generally focused on its own well-being in the past. It was rarely imperialistically disposed and tended to concentrate on its own enlightenment. 

They were so certain of their civilization that when barbarians came to plunder, they had no need to defeat them militaristically, preferring to wait for their culture to win them over (a process called "sinification").

Thus, I tend not to take theories which suggest China is seeking to colonially express itself seriously.

Why would they focus primarily on themselves for millennia and then suddenly embark on crusades? It makes more sense to wait for the world to change than risk losses in some disastrous conflict.

Further, after centuries of woe they've finally reasserted themselves as a preeminent culture.

Why would they risk all that for a bit of land?

When they're already so blessed with so much diversity back home?

Outcast postulates redemption through a noble act unbidden and unrewarded, compensation driven through active spirit, the vigorous rapport of a peaceful life.

I imagine China's much more concerned with peace based upon the learned hypotheses shared by well-read teachers.

What's to be gained from a grandiose conflict?

That they don't picturesquely possess already?

With Nicolas Cage (Gallain). 

The Ridiculous 6

Is it important to cultivate ethical guidelines within unorthodox narratives ad hoc, even if the scandalous nature of the storytelling may disorient prim propriety?

Does briefly letting go of pressurized stilted robotic mechanisms, foster a carefree liberating meaninglessness not without aesthetic value?

Does randomly subverting poignant perspectives lead to a more robust cosmopolitan criterion, insofar as democracy nourishes abundance, within which impartiality flourishes?

Is there something more to debauched comedies than the preponderant praise of the ludicrous, exceptionally spun and courageously endowed through the cacophonic art of eccentric assertion?

The pandemic has instigated global limbo stentorian stasis assiduous abeyance, and with a generalized inability to generate forward movement, the past resurfaces with interrogative suspension.

Forward momentum peculiar progressions heuristically heal anxieties and doubts, or at least give you something else to focus on as bizarro developments intermittently bewilder.

I've kept things positive during the pandemic to avoid slipping into melancholia, as best I can, which means I've had to cut out many media outlets, which have focused on doom and gloom too intently for some time.

It's of course important to follow what's happening and to be aware of what's going on, but how to avoid sad thoughts while watching these newscasts regularly is a trick I have yet to master?

I would have introduced Frontline Worker Beat and ran multiple interviews with daring workers, to get a more hands-on personalized look at the pandemic, apart from political speeches and updates about rising or decreasing case numbers (from across the country).

Things seem to be so stratified these days.

It's not good for the health of a democracy.

Thus, a return to no-holds-barred comedy to focus on lighthearted yet boisterous bedlam, to celebrate a sense of resounding hope amidst seemingly insurmountable odds.

One feature you often find in these films which I've written about before, is a salient synergistic sense of camaraderie uplifting potentially distraught spirits.

Isolated individuals operating without connections come together to pursue an absurd goal, the pursuit itself invigorating complacency as they diversify their offbeat team.

Thus the pursuit of an unexpected goal provides purpose even if it isn't stately or august or infused, and since many people aren't that concerned with entrenched enterprise, the goals pursued honestly reflect democratic life.

Should diverse democratic life be celebrated?, of course it should, ad infinitum!

The Americans are very good at it.

As is the inexhaustible, Adam Sandler (Tommy). 

Dragonfly

Do voices from supernatural realms at times attempt to communicate with the terrestrially composed, is there something to be said for uncanny spiritual instincts without resorting to coincidence or mental illness, as Tom Shadyac's Dragonfly directly hypothesizes?

A lot of the time it seems like mumbo jumbo that can't be clarified or reasonably explained, even if it's supposed to exist beyond rationality and therefore isn't logically disposed. 

It's foolish to take the irrational seriously since believing in ghosts or the like can lead to folly, although it's fun to imagine they might exist while leaning towards the generally improbable. 

One trick is to consider the possibility of keeping an open yet skeptical mind, while always immediately denying its logical potential if someone starts asking for more than 10$.

I saw many an episode of America's Most Wanted as a lad where true believers were cheated out of tens of thousands, and it seemed like such a depressing waste considering the trusting hearts who took a faithful leap. 

I hate to see the innocent cheated especially when they're gentle and kind. Why people who prey on their humble instincts can't find something more constructive to do is beyond me.

Those humble instincts have persisted nevertheless after a century or so of scientific advancement, advancements that have found evidenced based factual reasons to validate so many practical truths.

As science proves more and more practical theories you would think religious belief would become more and more obsolete, but it still persists with resounding tenacity in many jurisdictions still spiritually composed.

It's like there's an innate drive residing in many to believe in the supernatural regardless of fact, and even if such a drive seems improbable, yet can still sometimes be fun, in the interests of democratic community, methinks it's best not to dismiss it.

Of course I tend to operate within a communal domain where there's mutual respect for opposing viewpoints, and improbability doesn't have the upper hand and isn't creating laws to dismiss science or pandemics accordingly.

I like to hear people tell stories so I'll listen as they narrate away, it's incredible the things some people say, the force of their convictions at times unsettling.

Just proving and dismissing everything with science can be incredibly boring too. Life needs a bit of excitement now and then that only werebears and vampires (etc.) can provide.

As long as you don't believe werebears and vampires are real and can find a practical metaphorical application for them.

Thus rationalizing fantasy.

To tell even more incredible stories.

With planned obsolescence and conflicting authenticities so much discourse sounds absurd (especially as you age).

But what's life without absurdity?

As long as it doesn't cost too much.