Gezora, Ganime, Kameba: Kessen! Nankai no daikaijû (Space Amoeba)

An unmanned vessel is sent into space with the inquisitive ambitions of studying Jupiter, alone and courageous it magnetically travels in resourceful steady industrious wavelengths. 

But as fate would have it, a discourteous entity serendipitously commandeers its research & development, and immediately sets course for the unsuspecting Earth where it inauspiciously lands in the Pacific Ocean.

The craft is reported as missing and daily routines mysteriously sublimate, the enervating misfortunes scientifically smothered by polemical disputes concerning the galaxy. 

Nevertheless, an observant photographer saw it awkwardly land while travelling by plane, and even though no one authenticates the sighting, he vigorously maintains his fortunate vision. 

At the same time, he's reliably hired to diligently photograph an island in the Pacific, which happens to be situated around the same place where he accidentally saw the spaceship descend.

Gregariously accompanied by an amicable team they bravely head out to the isolated wilderness, curious to meet the local inhabitants who have imaginatively lived there since the dawn of time.

They superstitiously fear a giant sea demon by the name of Gezora who lives in the depths. 

The alien entity having unwittingly assumed.

The ancient enigmatic uncompromising deity. 

Not the most well-thought out of the captivating freeform creative monster movies, Gezora, Ganime, Kameba: Kessen! Nankai no daikaijû (Space Amoeba) still startles and accentuates otherworldly absurd and ludicrous pretensions. 

A more sincere critique of the commercial desires to turn the island into a resort, would have materialized virtuous acclamations ethically attuned to Indigenous agency.

Yet perhaps it indirectly critiques commercial endeavours through its bizarre depiction of the covetous alien, who is rather diminutive globally speaking yet still seeks to effectively conquer the world.

Is that not the initial hubris of so many adventurous businesspeople, who hope their products will establish footholds in worldwide markets internationally speaking?

Starting out from humble origins they create commercials to advertise their wares, which are somewhat like the creature in Space Amoeba who effectively irritates the tenacious locals.

Ridiculous to see interplanetary ambitions maladroitly unleashed in animate obscurity. 

Endemic wildlife saving the day.

As it has throughout the millennia. 

*Criterion keyword: turtle.

Chikyû Bôeigun (The Mysterians)

A quiet town mellifluously enamoured energetically engages in festive rituals, communal friendship collectively augmenting spirited endeavours and cultivated mischief.

The lighthearted mild-mannered individuals curiously converse and dine at play, before a startling blaze is suddenly detected not far off in a nearby wood.

The radioactive nature of the fire chemically defies known scientific understanding, inherently baffling brave local residents who risk their lives to douse the flames.

But before such an occurrence can come to pass, a giant robot emerges from the Earth, and sets about destroying the town with awkward movements and delirious gusto.

The military is eventually able to thwart its destructive malevolent intent, just before its colonialist authorship tyrannically proclaims its wicked objectives.

Relying on their superior technology which destroyed their home world so long ago, they seek to establish a new base on Earth from which to spread their invasive fury.

Internationally disposed, the people of Earth courageously respond with bitter defiance.

Bombastic composure inevitably maneuvering. 

As mutually disabling conflict obliterates.

Strange how the art of diplomacy lacks effective resolve every 4 to 8 years, and bizarre developments maladroitly alter reliable seamless networks and agencies.

In The Mysterians, a constructive dialogue would have gone a long way to cultivate peace, and ensured potential harmony between the species as it was initially considered.

Would it have been that disillusioning to simply approach our planet in good faith, and congenially present their novel ideas with warm and friendly interplanetary mojo?

Alas, their characteristic machismo and absurd extremist irrational demands, lead the entire world to internationally unite and find innovative ways to outgun their technology.

Friendship could have gregariously reigned and affably brought forth mutual accommodations, as it has in most ages of prosperity as closely chronicled by observant scribes.

The Mysterians refuse to lighten up however and are therefore doomed to travel longingly through space.

Forever in search of a chaotic homeland.

Consistently silencing peaceful initiatives.  

Der siebente Kontinent (The Seventh Continent)

Difficult to know where to find spiritual fulfillment within cultures dominated by dubious markets, consistently disseminating similar messages decade after decade epoch after epoch.

Nevertheless, if you cast a wide cultural net you may find remarkable alternative variability, assuming you don't limit yourself to the present and sample manifold styles and rhythms. 

If your culture micromanages music and only lets certain styles and messages get through, it could certainly become excessively tedious as the years slowly pass and nothing changes.

If your culture does accept new styles and genres and continuously strives to develop new markets, as long as the difference thoughtfully compels, it can be much less depressing than totalitarianism.

I watched a ton of television in my youth and became quite adept at channel surfing, finding shows that became lasting favourites which I regularly watched and routinely recorded.

The world of television made perfect sense and I could predict things that were going to happen, having un/consciously consumed so many narratives that entertaining developments became shockingly familiar.

I eventually moved away though started travelling around the country, and many of the places I stayed had no cable television, so I slowly moved away from the once cherished medium.

Eventually, more than a decade had gone by and I found that when I had the opportunity to turn on the TV, I wasn't as impressed as I had been in my youth, and questioned why I had spent so much time watching it.

I had actually found other cool things to do which imaginatively nurtured less manufactured thoughts, and although hardly anyone ever wanted to talk to me, I still found different ways to randomly express them.

It was like my mind was energized and my spirit enjoyed its liberation, you may not understand what a lot of people are talking about, but there's an uplifting world far beyond mainstream television.

Instrumental music made a big difference too as I imagined different scenarios in differing degrees, laidback listening to the incredible solos the inspired teamwork the emphatic orchestrations. 

Silent walks in natural environments made a huge difference as well with cool animal sightings. 

Defying the totalitarian void.

Unlike the family in The Seventh Continent. 

*Criterion keyword: chilli. 

Here

Bas Devos's Here brought back fond memories while also nurturing dreams for the future, Stefan's modest immigration experience humbly encouraging unorthodox travel.

The film follows a laidback worker who has spent some time living in Belgium, as he finishes his last shift and solemnly prepares for a month long vacation back in his homeland. 

As he walks about town casually observing things I was pleasantly reminded of life in the city, and the manifold options routinely available as you variably concoct thematic experiences. 

When he enters a restaurant for instance to get out of the pouring rain, and finds himself suddenly conversing in French with someone who speaks the language fluently.

As he tries his best to understand he knows he has to respond with something, and adamantly hopes it directly applies to the specific topic under examination.

But he gets it wrong he's misunderstood the dialogue halts it's insufficient, but he doesn't take it as a sign to stop speaking he continues onwards with verbal gusto.

By doing so, he actively demonstrates there are lots of words he can turn into sentences, and hopes his curious interlocutor instinctually respects that and keeps on talking.

In the best case scenario, they understand you're learning and that your positive attitude demonstrates you want to be there. 

If they continue the conversation using a less intricate in/formal vocabulary, it's a great opportunity for learning that can lead to chillaxed friendship (miss you).

I understood the old "fridge-clean-out" as well when you throw most of what you've got into a pot, and slowly cook it with spices and liquids until you've created something unique and edible. 

By doing so, you have several meals and fortunately nothing goes to waste, and you can share it with your friends as well as modest Stefan does in the movie.

Nature also figures prominently as he walks from place to place since his car's in the shop, the extant forest he freely travels through bringing on carefree thoughts and nascent wonder.

It's so important as cities expand and depressing sprawl creates a concrete jungle, to remember to plan intermittent green spaces throughout the urban landscape like they do in Québec.

Nice places for lunch or to spot local wildlife or even make a career studying mosses or lichen.

I'm usually careful not to disturb moss in the forest.

Although it does make a comfy place to lie down! 

*Criterion keyword: gossamer.

Black Orpheus

Rio de Janeiro festively prepares for the upcoming enigmatic illusory Carnaval, floats decorated and costumes tailored an immersive atmosphere of harmless mischief.

Nimble Orpheus chauffeurs his trolly through the busy streets with reservéd gusto, thoroughly at ease with lithe maximum occupancy as it swiftly travels throughout the city.

Young Eurydice arrives from the countryside to stay with her invigorating distant relatives, having been chased by a masked quasi-demon rigorously hellbent on her destruction.

Orpheus's fiancé habitually erupts with romantic exposition when they're together, and definitively craves his ubiquitous attention each and every day exceedingly composed.

They even spiritedly head out to meaningfully procure a marriage license, Mira focused and passionately determined to resonantly claim the celebrated singer.

But later in the day as time slowly passes beautiful Eurydice also catches his eye.

The dynamic artist following instinctual elements. 

As everyone embraces ye olde Carnaval.

A lively retelling of an ancient myth energetically situated within modern cities, with creative new features and an inspiring setting transformatively exclaiming romantic awe.

It's not even Orpheus/Breno Mello or Eurydice/Marpessa Dawn who steal the show they're somewhat subdued when objectively compared, to sprightly Mira/Lourdes de Oliveira and vehement Serafina/Léa Garcia who add so much in the brief time they're allotted.

Serafina could have been left out entirely her tempting character by no means essential, but Garcia took the less prominent role and seductively etherealized cinematic history.

It's not just the imaginative retelling of the ancient myth that generates so much credit, its compelling presentation of the market and Carnaval bring its animate emergence to acrobatic life.

Gymnastically adorning so many precious scenes with blithe orchestration and reverberating pith, it fluidly exemplifies perpetual motion with lighthearted irresistible ebullient spirits.

Indeed relationships problematize so much harmless fun when ownership's claimed.

A sincere tragedy no matter the epoch.

Carefree endeavours.

Limitless fun.

Nausicaa

 * Glad I'm not lining up month after month of gruelling resistance themed films. Did manage to find this one by accident on Saturday evening though (I was searching for an Agnès Varda film, but didn't think it would be fascist related). 

In 1967, a harsh military dictatorship suddenly took control of Greece, where it ruled for 7 inauspicious years as people everywhere around them mobilized. 

Imaginative French filmmaker Agnès Varda made the film Nausicaa to commend Greek exiles, who were forced to flee the degenerate lies and systematic torture of the fascist regime. 

Finding themselves in France they fortunately found international networks, and were able to defend democratic freedoms with receptive audiences worldwide.

Unfortunately, as her film was being put together insensitive authorities seized most of what had been produced, and never explained to her why they were taking it, it's thought that the material was subsequently destroyed.

But the Royal Belgian Cinémathèque kept one copy and delicately preserved it, which is now available on The Criterion Channel for those seeking informative and creative texts.

It interviews artists and journalists as they explain the troubles they had with the army, and attempt to find work and lodging in France while reflecting on Greek politics.

The call for widespread resistance took time to find an active audience, but eventually championed the compassionate rights of people who prefer not to join the military.

Nausicaa is also quite experimental it eclectically presents different storytelling styles, loosely adorning one Greek citizen's experiences as he meets a woman whose daughter's half Greek (I believe the daughter is supposed to be Varda).

The ways in which state media outlets mask the truth in order to offer unrealistic pictures of sociopolitical dilemmas are showcased, along with investigations into the general political awareness of France at the time (note how the left recently still dealt a crippling blow to the French right), and thoughtful looks at Greece's culture in the '60s.

Please don't equate my new style of poem with what Nausicaa calls "Medieval Obscurantism". I thought I was writing absurd catchy surrealist poems that are like puzzles, I'm not deliberately trying to sound difficult. 

Difficult to know what parts of the film would have been kept or altered or augmented if it had moved forward, but there's still enough left in this working draft to generate more comment than most of what's out there.

A cool look at the French New Wave applied to television.

The dictatorship didn't last long.

Varda is worth checking out.

Alienoid: Return to the Future

The ancient world tempestuously welcomes alien renegades from a far distant future, whose apocalyptic orchestrations may suffocate all life on planet Earth.

Along for the ride we find a computer program who can take on human form, and serendipitously shapeshift as awkward circumstances dictate. 

He surreptitiously protects a courageous determined fledgling warrior, who seeks to ensure the malevolent convicts permanently rest in medieval Korea. 

Back in the present day, the deadly haava will soon be released, after which all life on Earth will perish and reckless malfeasance rule absolutely.

The multivariable eclectic mix of dynamic characters effectively duel, and furiously express their athletic witticisms as the ensuing chaos thunders.

In terms of recalibrating A.I and giving it transformative humanistic features, could the cyberspatial efficiently be freed from incarcerated bland electronic environments?

If an electronic code exists for variable lifeforms within different realms, could it be effectively replicated thereby creating carbon copies?

Somewhat like the cloned sheep "Dolly" but without the elaborate multifaceted process, Star Trek: The Next Generation providing insights into the organic simulations.

On Star Trek's holodeck diverse beings find instantaneous ingenious life, and can interact and joke and play music while following intricate complex instructions. 

The characters can't leave their simulated environments they're imprisoned there however, in Star Trek you can't find the code for Proust or Shakespeare and see them miraculously reborn.

Nevertheless, within the food replicators organic material is suddenly created, with infinite variety from manifold planets and it fluidly exists in the outside world. 

Thus, within these highly useful machines computer codes take on physical forms (like they do in cyberspace), and can be consumed outside the domains in which they were originally produced (unlike cyberspace).

Thus, if you had a machine that could take a code like that used to clone different animals, you could theoretically duplicate them ad infinitum, like the food replicators on Star Trek.

You could therefore also alter their programming so they could transmutate at will. 

It's just a matter of discovering the manifest codes.

Which clandestinely structure organic environments.

Love the Twin Peaks intertextuality. 

Cool sequel. 

Yoyo

A gifted entertainer exactingly resides in opulent isolation within his castle, every second of every day meticulously corresponding to specified curriculum. 

He dreams of the girl he once fell in love with who still routinely travels and brilliantly performs, their improvised union having spiritedly crafted a darling youngster raised in the circus.

The Great Depression miserably emerges and millions of people find themselves out of work, the idle artist losing his staff then rejoining his family on the staggering road.

His son grows up immersed in lively spectacular entertaining multivariable humours, wholesomely ensconced within random variation he gradually becomes a celebrated clown.

World War II despotically interrupts and lighthearted sentiments are cast aside, the mad dissemination of militaristic bravado autocratically obscuring the chill and genuine.

After the war, the invention of television once again problematizes circus life, as more people find immediate entertainment laidback and tranquil with the fam at home.

Yet little Yoyo reinvents himself once more and becomes even more famous within the medium.

Hosting lavish galas back at his father's castle.

With storytelling, everlastingly at home.

I would argue that gifted storytellers never lose their love of animals, and sincerely respond to their adorable genius no matter how austere their lives become.

The just and the wicked, there's a remarkable difference between world-weary desert-of-the-real morbid tales, and blossoming effervescent dynamic lifeforces ethereally etched with generous compassion.

Thus we see in Pierre Étaix's Yoyo a friendly elephant at different times, who genuinely loves the wee mischievous lad at the auspicious outset and at the conclusion.

Yoyo never really feels quite right when requisitely hobnobbing within the superstructure, and is greatly relieved indeed more down-to-earth when that same caring elephant interrupts his ball.

You see the details of his innocent world magnanimously shared throughout the film, as scene after scene showcases warm unpredictable spontaneous carefree pleasant wonder.

Never lose that love of animals and there's no doubt you'll continue to enjoy this film.

Which inherently investigates artistic re/invention.

From the Silent Film Era to the Age of Television.

*Interesting sounds too.

Yoyo doesn't rely on the stock film sounds you often hear.

Eraserhead

The generation of ideas overwhelmingly uplifting intent transcendental forces, motivation and effort and impact and relevance reflexively augmenting acrobatic flourishes. 

The barren landscape requiring fuel to effectively germinate healthy crops, thoughtful endeavours in bewitching fecundity profusely cascading integral lounging.

The gradual development at times uneasy the formal onslaught of ceaseless ambition, tirelessly adjusting and diffusely remodelling creative cognizance and bold revelation. 

As the seeds tumultuously take root the world at large commodiously ossifies, the general estimable uptight imposition of regulation and duty opaquely cataloguing.

A family prospers and grows communally depicting dynamic tethers, the enviable tradition wholesomely cajoling duplication and collegiality. 

Yet the unbroken ancient line between holistic custom and random alternative, offbeatly vibrates with tenacious recognition as distressing realities duel and challenge.

Thus the emergence of odd surreal fantastic escapes from the awkward humdrum.

Not necessarily cloaked in tedium.

As daring varieties innately juxtapose. 

The industrious dreamlike imagination inherently bewildered by verdant nutrients, yet still reacting to latent stimuli with in/direct in/coherent lucidity.

It's difficult to narrativize the random thoughts which peculiarly inspire dreams throughout the day, the continuous orchestration of improvised insights sub/consciously manifesting elegant distractions. 

What to do with the cerebral material as it suddenly appears within your mind, especially if there are other tasks at hand austerely demanding your strict attention?

The inexhaustible uncontainable ethereal ameliorations of the human spirit, can't be suffocated by even the most dire and dismal environments as Eraserhead suggests.

The spirit of creation still attempts to alter the blandest of circumstances even if untrained, like a natural intuitive humanistic instinct habitually disseminating art and culture. 

What to do with it remains up to you David Lynch went on to direct brilliant films and television.

Never losing the fascination first displayed in Eraserhead.

Which he spent 5 years making and took a paper route to complete.

The Elephant Man

A gentle soul, curious and thoughtful, is habitually tormented by another, who obscenely profits from his misery and spends next to nothing on his care or comfort.

The individual in question suffers from severe deformities which make him appear extraordinary, people wishing to marvel at his stunning difference and willing to pay for the chance to do so.

No one asks him for his opinion regarding his tragic state of affairs, he isn't consulted his steadfast approval is disregarded, ignored, disdained.

No one talks to him either in fact he's left voiceless and caged and isolated, confronting violence should he humbly protest his scathing chains and caustic fetters.

Fortunately, a kind and sympathetic promising young doctor learns of his struggles, and goes about freeing him from the carnival while searching for a permanent place of residence.

Mr. Merrick is then given the opportunity to calmly express himself and converse, his discussions and observations inquisitively demonstrating tender caring playful cognizance. 

For the first time in his life he's treated with respect and he wholesomely responds with innocent wonder.

As those seeking to exploit him discover his whereabouts.

And set about wildly profiteering. 

A young gifted director with one film to his credit was lovingly tasked with crafting The Elephant Man, David Lynch responding with incisive imagination which still resonates this postmodern day.

The just and the wicked frequently colliding in his chaotic campy down-home daring dramas, we find scenes scenarios that stretch throughout his work in their sophomore distillations in this film.

Is Dr. Frederick Treves who seeks to take away John Merrick's pain and let him live in mindful society, not unlike Special Agent Dale Cooper who genuinely cares for the residents of Twin Peaks?

Is the wretched slave-driver Bytes who makes his living spreading death and decay, harbingers of Frank Booth and Dick Laurent the Baron Harkonnen or the Killer Bob?

The dreamlike fascination with surreal storytelling far beyond what the scene depicts, amorphously anchors our innate curiosity as this early outing creatively transmits.

A good place to start if seeking to learn much much more about David Lynch the filmmaker, while sincerely taking requisite note that the path you're on will get much rockier.

At home with artistically embracing noble and unsettling offbeat emotions.

He spent his life contemplating holistic humanism.

In a bona fide theatre of debutant dreams. 

Soleil Ô

It's important to play an active role, to take part, to add your voice, racial discrimination is an unsettling reality that consistently frustrates able bodied workers.

It's wonderful to see when citizens engage and write books or direct films to help struggling minorities, a lot of genuine sympathy and sincere care diligently goes into their compassionate construction.

Soleil Ô follows the plight of African migrants who move to France in the post-colonial period, but it wasn't made by concerned French citizens, it was created by Africans themselves.

According to the colonialist dogma they had been brought up with, they were equal citizens in France, and were surprised to find a lack and housing and employment after they picked up one day and moved there.

The film experiments with narrative techniques as it explores various aspects of racist tensions, which still pop up with alarming regularity there's still so much work to be critically done.

Back in Africa for instance, the abundance of languages is thoughtfully presented, before the colonized citizens have to fight one another in English and French with crosses turned into swords.

A grouchy bigot cantankerously complains about immigration in a relaxed restaurant, before a black singer inspires the patrons and he suddenly changes his stubborn mind.

A mixed-race individual who looks white has to suddenly walk away, from an angry man who just can't help his instinctual hatred and knee-jerk prejudice.

As a white woman and a black man playfully flirt with one another on the street, passers by look on in shock and offer multiple awkward different takes.

Even though black people possess requisite skills they're still forced to work in specific sectors, many of which demand no education and involve industrial cleaning.

I would argue that Soleil Ô's multiple exploratory scenarios, present pioneering mockumentary techniques decades before they became conventional (they may have also been popular at the time but were referred to by a different term).

The comedy is instructive without being violent and there is one character who keeps showing up, the events loosely tailored around his experience as he tries to make coherent sense of things.

It effectively uses humour and logic to rationally comment on distressing realities, hopefully convincing hard-hearted peeps that there are less drastic solutions to economic problems (people shouldn't be assigned specific jobs solely based on the colour of their skin for instance).

First rate experimental cinema perhaps decades ahead of its time, courageously created by the actual citizens whom the racist attitudes affected, Soleil Ô is worth checking out by concerned multicultural citizens, especially because the same attitudes still persist, and need to be fought by the next generation. 

The Cobbler

The honest excelling hardworking days routinely passing without deviation, vital know-how and requisite skill generating consistent reliable business.

A modest son taking care of the fam after the sudden disappearance of his father, mom resigned yet persistently hopeful that one startling day he'll lovingly return.

The old school neighbourhood traditional and lively characteristically existing as it has for many years, local citizens daring and politically active in the stalwart fight against gentrification.

Things proceed the days pass by difference is found in random conversations, with a wide variety of inquisitive clients who on occasion discuss things at length.

Their shoes as well the various designs some intricate fashions or dependable customs, so many lying about in his shop at the somewhat dull end of a typical day.

Until one day his sewing machine rebelliously decides to stubbornly break down.

Leading him to use an old model from the basement.

With wild unknown imaginary features. 

It's a bit far-fetched this world weary Cobbler although it's still well-suited to the heroic times, not as flashy or bedazzling as Marvel or D.C but so much more appealing in the gentle undertow. 

The protagonist isn't a crazy rich genius with unlimited resources at his or her disposal, nor a gifted scientist creatively experimenting with research grants which lavishly facilitate, he's rather a regular humble Joe who genuinely cares about work and family, and even comes around to loving his neighbourhood and his shop's old school place ensconced within it.

He is uncertain as to how to proceed after accidentally discovering the miraculous tool, and engages in spirited trial and error with comic results before taking things seriously.

Indeed he cleverly takes the unsung side of an elderly resident who wants to keep his apartment, and is able to strategically embrace multi-step planning in complex resilient underground economics.

It's cool to see the little guy stand up and industriously help out the people in his community.

It's more organic, not a $60 dollar cheque.

Strong local initiatives. 

Beyond oligarch power.

Stagecoach

A method of travel once widespread and common effectively navigating the wild frontier, transporting people 'cross rugged uninhabited tempestuous forbidden exhaustive terrain. 

The sturdy stagecoach led by agile beasts 🐎 resiliently determined to reach sundry locations, forthright and steady disalarming reliable stalwart steads industriously envisioned. 

Things were somewhat more divisive back then and uptight crusaders could run you out of town, in John Ford's Stagecoach indubitably indeed we find alternative dispositions hitching a ride.

The alcoholic doctor dipsomanically settles in serendipitously next to a whiskey salesperson, a notorious gambler respectful of gentility also joining the stealthy coach.

The journey will take them through hostile lands where the ancient citizens have not been consulted, the domain historically occupied by them their inherent disfavour no doubt justified.

The army will only follow the passengers for a relatively short distance before departing. 

The telegraph line has also been cut.

The resonant danger lurid and taunting.

I had the wrong idea about ye olde Stagecoach I thought it had more of a stiff upper lip, but several of the characters elaborately entwined don't necessarily follow paths straight and narrow.

I was surprised to see that the trusty John Wayne was playing an escaped convict in search of bloodshed, not a lawman or general or pilot just a lovestruck honest to God cool reckless kid.

Those in possession of non-traditional tendencies are given room to orthodoxly manoeuvre, the doctor abandoning liquor to deliver a baby, the lady of the night inspiring conjugal love.

The interrelations between the three cultures the Spanish and British and Native compatriots, are melodiously presented in ethereal song before troubling antipathies erupt once again.

I'd like to learn more about the 17th and 18th centuries and how often British peopled joined Native tribes.

I suspect it happened much more often than imagined.

Details perhaps found in the Library of Congress.

Until then compassionately note that Stagecoach is an entertaining reflection of the times.

Well beyond austere considerations. 

With a tenderhearted endearing finale.

Transformers: The Movie

The famished malevolent Unicron proceeds uncontested throughout the Universe, devouring planets as he randomly travels destructively immersed within timeless space.

As he approaches Cybertron, the Decepticon leadership battles the Autobots, who have retreated to two of its moons and Autobot City upon planet Earth.

The battle is feverishly fought both sides taking heavy casualties, Megatron and Optimus Prime fearsomely opposing one another with embittered fortitude.

As the leaders tumultuously duel, they deal each other fatal blows, Optimus forced to give up the Matrix of Leadership, Starscream banishing Megatron thereafter.

Nevertheless, Unicron has foreseen that only one thing can possibly destroy him, the coveted heralded respected Matrix of honest and fair immaculate Leadership.

He finds Megatron drifting through space and begrudgingly transforms him into Galvatron, before tasking him with furtively retrieving the ancient Matrix foreverafter. 

Always crafty, Megatron decides that if he finds it he'll harness its powers, to defeat ye olde Unicron whom he rather dislikes for presuming omniscience.

But foolish Megatron ignorantly forgets that the divine Matrix only supports just leadership.

The Autobots also seeking to stop Unicron.

As their fight wages throughout the Galaxy.

If you happened to be born at the right time I doubt you'll ever tire of its soundtrack, Transformers: The Movie distilling a passionate craze of robotic rhythms and electro wavelengths. 

It abounds with versatile transformers as one product line replaces another, a trajectory perhaps not followed by other toy brand films after many audiences erupted in fury.

Noble proclamations exuding sublime paths of innocently-defined righteous leadership, embrace community or open-minded togetherness with characteristic sincere savvy. 

Age and youth within the continuum continue their wise and impulsive dialogues, as the reckless Hot Rod and the weathered Kup dispute various subjects throughout their travels.

As Optimus Prime graciously fades it's tough to imagine the Autobots without him, and somewhat frustrating that Megatron bounces back within the film while he does not.

Perhaps another feature that was widely criticized.

The animosity fading with age.

Love watching this film again and again.

Old school longevity, luminescent viscosity. 

Birth

Genuine love illuminatingly transcends routine day-to-day orthodox trajectories, ingeniously transmitting ethereal dispatches with sincere wholesome munificent dignity. 

But alas, the blesséd union is cruelly and inhumanely torn asunder, as envious death jealously rises then indelicately vanishes with one tortured soul.

Time passes and the surviving member is once again pursued by an old sweetheart, who waited patiently year after year and never gave up after considerable rejection.

A date is set they are to be married friends and family traditionally applaud, but one unexpected mischievous guest suddenly shows up with spiritual discourse.

He claims that he's the bride's enamoured ex-husband and that he's still wholeheartedly in love, the reincarnated reanimated spirit lithe and active within a 10 yr. old.

He's initially dismissed for unfairly toying with mournful feelings and morose emotions, and disrupting an upcoming marriage with zealous uncouth disparaging diatribes.

But he knows so much so many intimate details that were only shared between husband and wife.

Has the spirit world brought their moribund marriage back to life?

Or is the euphoria immaterial and inconclusive?

Somewhat absurd yet still innocent and tender you see the trusting lovelight altruistically shining through, as the bewildered ex-wife falls again for her husband with grave awkward grace and solemn credulity.

Even though he's only 10 and won't be fit to wed for another decade or so, she still considers the traditional role she once dutifully played with authentic temperance. 

I felt bad for the hopeful new husband who waited so long to fulfill his desire, true love and the fates egregiously mocking his steadfast and true uncorrupted fidelity. 

To wait so long and have your wedding annulled after a child shows up claiming to be your bride's ex-husband, would have been a shock too much to bear as furiously related one embarrassing evening.

The contemporary nature of the film sombrely scored with classical melodies, gives it a haunting stern humble edge wherein which you might find reincarnated frequencies. 

The characters are also wealthy (or bourgeois or struggling) enough to take such things seriously without qualm or misgiving.

To resplendently fall for true love everlasting.

Through immortal time.

In eternal disregard.