The Rainmaker

Struggling to find anything amidst multitudinous mechanized mayhem, a would-be lawyer strives for steady employment, having already diligently found two potential cases to call his own, he needs a flexible support network, a trusted home away from home (Matt Damon as Rudy Baylor). 

He doesn't have an apartment either but in conversation with a client, secures room and board in her backyard a rather nice place off the beaten track.

He fortunately finds someone to work for but soon a lawsuit comes a' callin', and he's forced to abandon the practise and create a new one of his own.

A resilient legal aid resourcefully assists his fledgling endeavours (Danny DeVito as Deck Shifflet), the two forging a dynamic team harnessing practical and constructive knowledge.

Medical insurance fraud indeed becomes their driving ethical focus, while an extremely distressing spousal abuse case takes up most of Baylor's free time.

They're up against a corporate team who offers them a settlement at the outset, but daring Baylor digs in deep and decides to challenge them in court.

Meanwhile, he's visiting Ms. Riker (Claire Danes) to offer counsel when her husband returns. 

Literally in the fight of his life.

He responds with reciprocal reckoning. 

The direct just how things go realistic hands-on overt narrative, leaving nothing to chance or whimsy everything presented as plain as day.

The latent dream overwhelming at times to simply tell it like it is, with lucid manifest striking composure bravely detailing complex dissonance.

I'd argue you'd have more success with this style or perhaps find a much larger audience, incumbent mystery and bewildering bantha not as appealing from time to time.

With relativity applied however there are manifold layers of concrete communication, one startling stark steady statement taking on several alternative significations.

Thus Dickens or Proust may seem out of touch if you focus intently on John Grisham (which I did in high school [even visiting Oxford, Mississippi {dad wanted to see Faulkner's homestead which was in the area}]), but if you train and practise and up your game you'll learn to harmonize the three.

The Rainmaker presents potential realities with appealing incandescent virtue. 

I loved reading John Grisham in my youth.

Along with ye olde Anne Rice.  

*Also love reading Faulkner.

**Co-starring Mickey Rourke (Bruiser Stone), Danny Glover (Judge Tyrone Kipler), Jon Voight (Leo F. Drummond), Mary Kay Place (Dot Black), Dean Stockwell (Judge Hale), Virginia Madsen (Jackie Lemancyzk), and Roy Scheider (Wilfred). 

Bagdad Café

A marriage suddenly breaks up while the couple travels through the Mojave Desert, the wife taking a suitcase and venturing forth to the closest accommodating hotel (Marianne Sägebrecht as Jasmin Münchgstettner). 

The hotel's seen better days and lacks commercial intuition, a delirious rut having settled in which drives away most potential customers.

But Jasmin sees lucrative possibility virtually isolated in the Mojave, and whereas the owners (CCH Pounder as Brenda) have abandoned ship, she strives to keep the craft afloat.

Fortunately, her versatile industry and its accompanying foresight and vision, aren't lost on the cafe's staff, and soon metamorphoses materialize to bring paying clients back again. 

Further, sloth and anger slowly fade into bitter oblivion, gradually replaced by ingenuity not to mention bold showpersonship.

Ms. Münchgstettner isn't a demanding taskmaster sternly managing the forlorn crew, she rather leads by efficient example to avoid unproductive arguments with her co-workers.

Her example proves effective and her lack of ego inspires change.

But she doesn't have the necessary documents. 

To hold off deportation. 

Having spent some time North of 60 I have a latent fascination with the desert, from alternative meteorological extremes, regarding the perseverance of active life.

If people and animals can find a way to live in distressing ubiquitous cold, why not the heat as well, swelteringly abounding with solar energy?

I'd have to keep sunscreen close at hand and resourcefully find shade wherever possible, my myriad freckles indubitably intensifying within the unforgiving heat!

With shade acquired and a general lack of alarming nauseating sunstroke however, it would be fun to work somewhere like the Bagdad Café for an indeterminate period of time.

If you ever visit the countryside and go with the flow at work and play, you may discover a world of wonder at novel peace home on the range.

It's not always like that of course but I was lucky in my youth.

I don't regret having had to leave.

But sometimes I wish I'd stayed. 

Multiplicity

Work at times prone all-encompassing as pressures and demands exponentially multiply, an occupation blended with leisure and family ubiquitous responsibility pending.

As long as expectations are reasonable and goals practically parlayed, it's manageable long-term through hands-on seasoned sympathetic accords.

But what if you could clone yourself and then send that very same clone to work, thereby allowing yourself more time to spend with family or perhaps relaxing?

And consider a second clone to then take care of your parental duties, leaving you with nothing but free time to galavant and jaunt and sojourn?

Multiplicity explores this possibility with comic slipshod rank effect, one risk-taker finagling flip facsimiles to free-up time in his busy schedule.

Fortunately, the clones don't mind and respond amenably to their roles, and don't question his cherished authority as he creates rules and regulations.

I would imagine a perfect clone would be more independent, and less willing to immediately respond to demanding occupational infrastructure.

The original is rewarded with cloned pertinent traits befitting related corresponding objectives, foreman model rather assertive while stay-at-home-dad flexibly accommodates. 

It's oddly a family film shot in the cuddly mass market style, wherein which endearing conglomerates generally avoid awkward confrontation.

The experiment has consequences but his wife and family persevere none-the-wiser, unaware that good-old-dad effectively abandoned them through surrogate censure.

Could a film this overtly insensitive be made in the 2020s, taking alternative multiplicities into consideration, from a less patriarchal point of view?

It seems that if one were to embrace equality while still endeavouring to cultivate shenanigans, both parties to the conjugal union should have duplicated themselves in secret.

Then perhaps 6-8 echoes would have to furtively avoid one another, while mayhem habitually metastasizes through the art of embellished absurdity.

They could perhaps all wind up living together with a massive feisty family.

That script may be overly complicated.

But still less of an abomination. 

Gung Ho

The straightforward practical approach distilling facts and unembellished know-how, freely shared at an international meeting delicately held to bring work back to town.

The people of Hadleyville, Pennsylvania, want to reopen the plant where they've built many automobiles, its jobs the driving force in the local economy, which heavily relies on their enriching abundance.

To make things work Japanese and American cultural preferences must coalesce, the management team promoting trusted principles that often lead to success in Japan.

They're much more intense than many are used to, the search for perfection ideally orchestrated, friction develops between workers and management as different work-life balances awkwardly clash.

I find the desire for perfection motivates many in North America, but if it isn't achieved the related penalties aren't quite as strict as presented in Gung Ho.

Fortunately, humour is appreciated and Hunt's (Michael Keaton) honest style intuitively builds bridges.

Desperately trying to hold his regenerated town together, he strives to bring mutually beneficial cultural accords to life.

Does the spirit of the 1980s still culturally flourish across the land, with individual critiques democratically striving to ensure multilateral communal parlay?

After having seen the documentary American Factory (2019) I'd say there's no doubt they're alive and well, a film that examines contemporary Chinese and American relations at a refurbished plant in nimble Moraine, Ohio. 

The two films go hand-in-hand and would fluidly make an instructive double-feature, as I mentioned in my Far & Away review, there was once a thriving impetus to keep things realistic (Gung Ho also directed by Ron Howard).

A more comprehensive investigation into how labour-relations have changed over the past 40 years, would indeed make a compelling read, and would in fact be fun to research.

Gung Ho's style of storytelling was quite prominent in my curious youth, a hard-working day complemented by study and time well-spent with friends and family.

Millions fought for centuries to bring the balanced state of affairs about.

Why is a healthy work-life balance controversial?

Co-starring George Wendt (Buster), Mimi Rogers (Audrey), John Turturro (Willie), Clint Howard (Paul), and Gedde Watanabe (Oishi Kazihiro).  

Sense and Sensibility

Sufficient evidence gathered hereinafter cordially suggests a blesséd state, was indeed embraced by Mr. Ferrars (Hugh Grant) and Ms. Elinor Dashwood (Emma Thompson) vigorously engaged in holy matrimony. 

Misfortune and finicky finances egregiously attempted to discourteously repudiate, but chance attuned to ethereal endeavour providentially bequeathed ecstatic union.

Regarding Ms. Marianne Dashwood (Kate Winslet), who had been laid low due to flagrant ignominy, and left to harken despondent despair after having shockingly admitted scandal, her path gregariously recultivated through less self-centred earthen pertinence, has been noted as indirectly ebullient at festive times courting celebration.

Somewhat odd to see such import indubitably attached to conjugal digression, the tragic dialectic intermediately adjoining romantic longing and practical accords, the vicious reprobation denying their freeform mutually beneficial cathartic synthesis, morosely encouraging robotic remonstrance as opposed to nuptial nadir. 

Proust had alternative thoughts altogether and dramatically critiqued his sibling's marital fancies, somewhat less enamoured with Victorian reverie even if it ironically permeates his alternative narrative.

Uncanny to envision a stately world wherein which no one works or toils, where the infringing struggles and herculean cynosure are strictly levelled through estate and income.

Not that other social strata don't freely admit grey bumptious bias, perhaps humorous pretensions synthetically compared enigmatically emitting concentric harmonies.

How to delicately enliven such incommensurable audiences without rashly contradicting audacious accords, a close study of one Jack Layton perhaps amenable to a discussion of Foucauldian power relations. 

I must admit, I'm more accustomed to less superstructural arrangements, wherein which a noteworthy cast from sundry domiciles fluently agitate and preposterously proclaim, although I have in fact read this book and clearly understand why so many still read Ms. Austen, there's no doubt she's atemporally gifted, not my style really, but better than most. 

Certainly a world in which the Dashwoods find their Ferrars and Colonels doesn't intuitively provoke inclement entropy, or cosmically upset reverential taste, I wonder what's happening in contemporary literature, as the counter-postmodern reformation blindly struggles. 

I just made that up, I assume that's what's happening anyways.

Focusing on Wabi Sabi myself. 

And the upcoming adventurous summer.

Co-starring Imelda Staunton (Charlotte Palmer), Alan Rickman (The Colonel), and Tom Wilkinson (Mr. Dashwood).

Brewster's Millions

Stipulations.

Conditions which must be reached for an unorthodox goal to be achieved.

At times simply nominal, at others quite the pain, Brewster's Millions embraces the latter, with munificent refrain.

Thus one Montgomery Brewster (Richard Pryor) discovers he's the only living relative of an eccentric recently passed multimillionaire (Hume Cronyn as Rupert Horn), and that he will inherit quite the sum, but only if can first spend 30 million in a month, without acquiring any assets, giving it to charity, or letting anyone else know why he's doing it.

There's the option for a single million no-holds-barred no rules and regulations, but he's a classic gamer and readily accepts the incredible challenge.

It's fun to watch while he lavishly embraces extreme generosity with his friends and staff, and goes about spreading sweetly flowing largesse wherever he happens to fortuitously be.

Notably with his old minor league baseball team with whom he sets up a 3-inning game versus the Yankees, and even pitches for awhile himself in front of the adoring Hackensack crowd.

The ways in which he daringly shares his newfound riches make sundry headlines, but no one can know why he's doing it, not even his closest friend (John Candy as Spike Nolan). 

But those who would inherit the 300 million should Mr. Brewster's efforts fail, diabolically engage in malfeasance designed to ensure their probable success.

Rather unsuspectingly Mr. Brewster proceeds with intuitive freewheelin' dignity.

That would have been quite the month.

Gratuities notwithstanding.

In terms of fun, the lucrative Brewster's Millions emphatically excels from different perspectives, kaleidoscopically coalesced in crafty inspirational song.

Politics takes a swift jab as the most prominent mayoral candidates are feverishly lambasted, Brewster deciding to run himself with no intentions of holding office.

Certainly a film that encourages dreaming or the age old what would I have done?, there's abundant remake opportunity here, just find a 21st-century angle.

I guess a sequel wasn't in the cards but I would have liked to have seen the story continue, nowadays there's no doubt there would have been at least a comic trilogy. 

A chill film if you're looking to relax and watch some craziness for 102 minutes.

Classic old school 1980s.

Co-starring Jerry Orbach (Charley Pegler), Pat Hingle (Edward Roundfield), Peter Jason (Chuck Fleming), Rick Moranis (Morty King), Yakov Smirnoff (Vladimir), and Joe Grifasi (J.B. Donaldo).  

The Hudsucker Proxy

Difficult to say what leads to success in business, if you've never really read anything about it or worked in the industry, although sundry films and series suggest cut-throat dispositions are indeed paramount, is there something to be said for such conceit?, I have to admit, it's far beyond me.

In The Hudsucker Proxy the opposite rings true as a mild-mannered mailroom dreamer moves up, to lead a million dollar company no less, with only a peculiar idea to back him (Tim Robbins as Norville Barnes). 

The company was doing well at the affluent time of its founder's tragic parting, but due to a willful irregularity, comes up for sale at the start of the next year.

Its shares are to be made public thereby preventing the Board of Directors from cashing in, unless they can diabolically decrease their value and then snatch them up before anyone else does.

Thus they hire Mr. Norville with the malevolent hope that he begets ruin, he does have unorthodox methods but his initial idea proves rather lucrative.

The Hula-Hoop in fact captures the fascination of an adoring public, and leads to acrimonious accolades from the foiled and irate distraught conspirators.

As time passes and opinions fluctuate will he be able to stay afloat?

Tumultuous tides trepidatious tenacity.

Inherent preposterous production.

What to do if harnessing miracles through spontaneous agile eclectic blunder, through the art of tantamount translation elucidating chill commercial thought?

It seems clear in Norville's case since his idea is direct and practical, but I imagine things could be much more abstruse if you require televisual or filmic structure.

It does seem somewhat odd that so much wealth can be gargantuanly generated, from such a simple idea even if adage and aphorism extol them.

You see the argument played out every day in democratic political venues across the land, study and learning consistently duelling with worldly knowledge upon the stage.

So many people work within the world that their crafty leadership no doubt feels, as if they deserve a certain percentage of the inspired decision making financed by government.

Their intellectual counterparts at times find it odd having to share the coveted spotlight, as they diversify through complication inevitably leading to brilliant foresight.

But democracy guarantees their privilege just as it lauds equal upstanding opportunity, who's to say who should hold the reins?, I myself prefer books and learning. 

Books and learning with practical knowledge gregariously bulwarked through realistic expenditure.

Sounds kind of like one Joe Biden.

Who seems to genuinely care. 

City Heat

Old friends convivially concerned with awkward jurisprudent balance, searching for ways to creatively uphold loyal dis/continuous partnership.

They started out on the force together courageously seeking intuitive accolades, in possession of tenacious temperaments objectively nuanced with novel bravado.

One eventually couldn't cope with the structure the preponderant rules and regulations however, and sought to manage his own private business investigating peculiarities for discreet clients (Burt Reynolds as Mike Murphy). 

The other remained with the force and reached the rank of lieutenant through toil and sacrifice, preferring to work alone on his cases, flying into a rage if you knock over his coffee (Clint Eastwood as Lt. Speer). 

Murphy's new partner one Dehl Swift (Richard Roundtree) suddenly finds himself provocatively endowed, when the ledger of a prominent crook finds its way into his audacious hands.

It's a serious gamble to brashly infuriate such an unpredictable extreme personage, without much planning or an intricate network through which to find quarter should things go awry.

Things quickly do go awry and the confused Murphy is left to pick up the pieces. 

Worried about his friend, Lt. Speer closely monitors.

As things descend into embittered entropy.

Putting the squeeze on anger-prone higher-ups always seemed rather inconvenient to me, not worth the potential fall out should inherent irascibility hit the fan.

You'd have to move fast with no trail regardless and leave behind your old life forever, and make sure not to spend the entire payload since finding a new job may encourage shocking questions.

You'd have to keep your stories straight with multiple strangers for many a year, I suppose a lot of people don't really care, but some keep pressing for coherent detail.

I imagine City Heat was widely anticipated by sundry Eastwood, Reynolds and Roundtree fans, and at the time was like a prize fight between Ali and Foreman sponsored by King. 

The music's a lot of fun and the atmosphere captures the noir aesthetic, some of the lines are really cool too and delivered with classic sarcastic wherewithal. 

I imagine excitement got the better of them, with a bit more time and care this may have been classic.

Still definitely worth checking out for curious fans and noir devotees. 

*Co-starring Jack Nance (Aram Strossell), Robert Davi (Nino), William Sanderson (Lonnie Ash), and Rip Torn (Primo Pitt). 

Mrs. Doubtfire

Over the years times tragically change and stilted realities resonate objective, inspired spontaneity less pressingly urgent as prudent planning meticulously sways.

One dad isn't caught up with the firm glad handing notwithstanding, and routinely goes too far with a lack of understanding for conjugal limits (Robin Williams as Daniel Hillard).

Thus, one exuberant birthday kinetically overflowing with freeform merrymaking, Miranda Hillard (Sally Field) is furious when she returns home to find their house in borderline ruin.

It would have been an amazing time but perhaps was too unrestrained and shocking, the middle-ground isn't that schoolmarmish, just don't wreck the freakin' house!

Divorce soon looms lugubrious and the custody battle proves rather unfair, Mr. Hillard may be too freely accommodating, but there's no doubt he's an upstanding dad.

He would never hurt his kids or not be there for them if they needed help, he doesn't drink and wants to work, he just applies ethics to his lasting calling.

But the application of ethics begets realities the court can't comprehend, why he quit his job doing voices for cartoons doesn't factor in to his unemployment.

He has a gift for acting nevertheless and soon responds with stealth and cunning.

By applying for his ex-wife's housekeeping job.

As a British nanny named Mrs. Doubtfire.

Some say a gift for acting or that of taking on different personas, betrays fugacious foundations lacking lone substantial balance.

Although I find people that say that often aren't the greatest actors, and acting's one of those jobs so many people want, that if it doesn't work 'cadabra: envy.

It seems like if you were living with someone who could consistently shift personalities to suit the occasion, soirées would no doubt remain lively in consistent multivariable mettle.

I'm kind of habitually introverted so the desire to constantly engage eventually drives me nuts, but if I'm given time to relax in isolation I tend to bounce back far eager for more.

Mrs. Doubtfire's a tender film actively embracing pervasive creativity, as applied to youthful and mature perspectives, with no concern for gender bias.

How to sort through the different expectations various folk so readily apply?

I find it helps if they work to live.

And respect the arts post-27.