Spaceballs

A villainous planet wickedly inhabited seeks to plunder a liberated land, using technology intricate and cruel to stubbornly cheat and lie and obfuscate.

Meanwhile that realm's awkward ruler attempts to marry his daughter to a prince, but she responds with vehement criticism before escaping with her droid.

A swashbuckling duo is swiftly contacted to quickly find and bring her home, the treacherous Spaceballs also hearing of her rebellion and soon ludicrously chasing her throughout the galaxy.

They hope they can convince the father to release the code to his planet's airshield, by locating and grimly capturing and then threatening to surgically remodel her nose.

Their planet is out of fresh air and requires newfound untainted oxygen, mad expansive unchecked commercialism having destroyed their once verdant environment.

Bold Lone Star and his companion Barf hope to heroically quash their sick endeavours.

While learning about the mythical Schwartz.

Expediently focused.

Itinerant eternities.

A cut above the old school spoof films once highly regarded amongst discerning youth, Spaceballs welds its exclamatory rhythms one step closer to ribald euphoria. 

With a fast hectic crazed chaotic path it ridiculously orchestrates spastic trailblazing, focused on Star Wars while looking beyond to delicately lampoon old school science-fiction.

Did I love it so much in my youth because I was young and impressionable and didn't know better, or was it indeed genuinely funny and smoothly suited to burgeoning wit?

There are films that I loved way back when that I've watched recently with tired resignation, but Spaceballs still generates laughs and fluidly echoes the temporal spirit.

The creative script and consistent mayhem wildly facilitate playful otherworldliness, brought to life by a strong cast of favourites recklessly emboldened in the bamboozling forefront (John Candy, Bill Pullman, Rick Moranis, Daphne Zuniga, Joan Rivers, Mel Brooks . . .).

I wonder what George Lucas thought of this film there was more of an understanding between comedic and serious works back then.

Comedy was of course never supposed to take over.

And limitlessly expand with destructive absolutism.  

The Fabulous Baron Munchausen

A fantastic fanciful tale eloquently embroidered with enigmatic elasticity, effervescently afloat in ethereal sentiments neigh nautically nebulous efficacious shrugs. 

The dawn of reason of scientific experiment was not without its spirited disclaimers, or at least those who still held fast to incorporeal invention lackadaisically improvised through rhythmic song.

No doubt fearful of lavish reliable widespread streams of revenue drying up, old school traditions wistfully wielded newfound technologies with regal candour.

The new realistic phenomenon most likely responded with fashionable devices (freezers, fridges), which in turn functioned like objective magic and called into question immaterial states.

The ingratiating practical convenience likely won over many orthodox critics, once wholesomely familiar with domestic trends so ubiquitously enveloping they seemed naturalistic.

But the innovative technologies hadn't innocently counted on devastating spiritual longing, or the intense desire to awkwardly believe in ornate grandiose fluid impossibility. 

Thus, wild literary tales continued to advance intangible tractability, for the recreational chez sensational cultivation of ludic flight.

Unfortunately, the collective will to absolutely choose one or the other, led to palpable global distress for many an onerous discordant decade.

Although one option did seem to incorporate facets of theology and agnosticism, and seemed less restrictive in the imposing long-run assuming you kept a level head.

It was ironic that gallant inconclusions rambunctiously led to strict adherence, the fledgling materialism theoretically disposed to communal liberality freeform disjunction. 

Yet obsessed with outmaneuvering their ancient agitators on the world stage, many freedoms were correspondingly denied while many educators bravely deemed otherwise.

Fortunately, there were cultivated realms who did indeed blend and mix and synthesize, to imaginatively create emancipatory domains wherein which bold freedom mischievously manifested.

Still caught between invasive impulses to chaotically rule with dull authority. 

Fearful of invention, loath to spin yarns. 

Over and over.

Ad infinitum. 

A Tale of Summer

A trip to the beach a nice seaside locale enrichingly equipped with chillaxed amenities, the undulant waves and spirited climate effortlessly producing rhythmic sessions.

Waiting for his partner to eventually show up, Gaspard makes another clever acquaintance, who fluidly abounds with interest and insight and has ample time to relax and ponder.

They hit up clubs and hike and wander discussing various random topics, l'amour intently and curiously considered as inquisitive inquiries bear luscious fruit.

His girlfriend takes her time arriving and another woman makes her interest known, one to whom he gives a newly written sea chanty which she helps perform laidback at her uncle's.

He keeps writing and focusing on music while the girls intriguingly present new questions, neither committing nor rejecting nor preferring as summer breezes tranquilly flow.

When his partner finally shows there's a lot already happening in his life.

As pressure mounts to make a decision.

He plays it cool and functions on instinct.

A much less volatile account of people in the act of falling in love, almost without fits and explosions like the mutual infatuations enamour affectionately. 

Without concentrating on love and relationships the continuous dialogue is diverse and thoughtful, examining books and songwriting and individuality it honestly showcases cerebral discourse.

Can he help not being able to make a definitive decision when reasonably tasked, with so many options suddenly available which he didn't initiate or request or engender?

Word choice becomes more and more important as time progresses and feelings intensify, recourse to multifaceted poetic displacements swiftly losing ground to logical accuracy. 

What a summer to exactingly spend overwhelmed with desire and heartwarming expenditure, no doubt conducive to vigorous shanties intuitively written in heart-throbbing throes. 

Life steps in in the end and gives him a way out of the binding dilemma.

Longing and daydream thereby contracted.

Creative efficiency consummately obscured.

Gypsy 83

Bucolic fashions habitually annoy Gypsy Vale as she randomly fluctuates, moving more style to quip to inspiration as concrete dissonance mundanely obscures.

Her friend Clive offers flamboyant accompaniment as they shoot videos and intuitively experiment, their cohesive bond actively facilitating insouciant fun and alternative brokerage. 

One day they learn of an upcoming talent show to be exotically held in New York City, where they've unfortunately never been but would love to energetically check out.

Gypsy's mom couldn't handle the 'burbs and reluctantly moved there years ago, Gypsy hoping to somehow reestablish contact during the voyage although she's still rather angry.

Their road trip adventure spontaneously begins and they soon find themselves travelling state to state, with improvised stops and inconclusive reckonings emergently enabling freeform postures. 

Their keen choice of clothes and elaborate makeup lead to complications as they flourish.

In a world inarticulately composed.

Foolishly observed with dismissive resonance (they run into a lot of flack). 

Good vibes and genuine friendship impressionably motivate in Gypsy 83, as creative sincere individuals find expression through play and fantasy.

Although woe does abound and wherever they go criticisms arise, their inevitable championing of the blasé reverberates dependable amicable rhythms. 

Even amongst their fellow misfits dispiriting vitriol enervatingly erupts, the critical world fraught with intense snobbery which is often more destructive than lowbrow ignorance. 

The Amish hitchhiker adds some flare as they enthusiastically drive along, with complications eventually devastating the inaugural window harmless and playful.

So irritating that so much sadness has to consistently be resiliently overcome, a less vituperative cultural consensus open-mindedly applied leading to less bitterness.

An active life helps the criticisms fade while tenderly engaged in novel exploration.

Tough to believe in a country as dynamic as the U.S.

There aren't more than a handful of chill cities to live in.

Excluding contemporary times. 

*Criterion keyword: lounge.

Shark Whisperer

I suppose the main issue with Jaws is not that it presents a terrifying man-eating shark, it's more that it's an exceptionally well-made film and a remarkable stand out amongst monster movies.

So many monster films come and go but Jaws is a phenom with staying power, the artistic intent wasn't to kill a bunch of sharks (as an interview states on my VHS copy), but it's still a huge thorn in activist's sides.

Ocean Ramsey is an incredible animal activist who has chosen to spend her life defending sharks, alongside her husband Juan Oliphant who films her activities off the Hawaiian coast.

She's been in love with the ocean since but a wee lass growing up on the island, gravitating towards sharks as time passed her work leading to a ban on shark fishing in Hawaii.

She has no fear of the animals and even cozies up with massive Jawsesque great whites, swimming with them without a scuba tank since she can hold her breath for 6.5 minutes.

She's been doing it for so long that she recognizes dozens of the sharks she swims with, who also recognize her and can indeed be called shark friends.

Her knowledge of shark behaviour is highly-regarded by some scientists, who often frown upon pseudo-science but still appreciate what she's done.

I imagine animal peeps will love her, her love of animals is contagious, and the work she does is monumental in raising shark awareness across the land.

Sharks do attack people from time to time but the general frequency remains quite low, I imagine they're much like bear attacks and bears hardly ever kill people.

If I remember the stats from Kevin Van Tigham's Bears (Altitude Superguide) correctly, they only killed around 98 people in North America in the 20th century, they're no doubt frightening in the cultural unconscious, but they're often more afraid of people than they are of them.

The key with Jaws and other monster movies is to remember that they're works of fiction, and although their tales invite sensation, they're not realistic in the slightest.

Unfortunately, many people don't see it that way and confuse the fiction for reality.

Which is why documentaries like Shark Whisperer are so important.

Like it frequently states, sharks need protection.

*A note advertising Shark Whisperer could be displayed on copies of Jaws purchased or rented physically or online. 

The Earthling

A curious youngster who's been raised in California finds himself back in Australia visiting the Outback, his Aussie dad resolutely determined to introduce him to his heritage.

But he's not ready for the immersion and shows hesitation when boldly tasked, his father realizing it will take some time to get him used to the verdant zone.

Meanwhile, a cranky elder vigorously returns to the old haunting grounds, dying of cancer he hopes to make it resourcefully back to his old homestead.

He's a freakin' tough mofo who built his house out of rocks from the forest, with his bare hands well far away from road or industry or helping hand.

The young boy's parents begin to squabble on the top of a massive cliff, and as he searches for ample firewood their camper flies off, death awaiting below.

He's crestfallen and patiently waits for his mom and dad to emerge from the wreckage, myriad animals making the night seem rather frightening as it descends.

He's soon discovered by the grouchy man who shows no sympathy when they meet.

And introduces an no-nonsense regimen designed to teach him wilderness survival.

The Earthling's from a different time when Man's Men featured more prominently in film, not that they don't still today I just can't imagine a new film that's this insensitive. 

The poor kid has just lost his parents and at one point his cantankerous saviour, leaves him alone on an imposing cliff face while a pack of wild dogs bite at his feet below.

In classic hardboiled fashion everything's find and they're friends at the end, the young child who once feared going swimming in mountain pools now ready to catch wild birds and wallabies.

I imagine it was stubbornly made in the bountiful wake of ye olde Storm Boy, with which it jams to the hard-edged sounds of deafening clashing bleak death metal.

The child in Storm Boy having been judged to have comfortably had too much of the good life, he of Earthling is obstinately taught to fend for himself hours after his parents die.

The wildlife shots are amazing many different Australian animals shown, from echidnas to koalas to emus there's a cute-cuddly feast for the loving romantic.

Indigenous wisdom is shared and relied upon as they diligently make their way through the bush as well.

Extremely unsympathetic.

With a ton of cool shots from the Outback. 

The Freshman

One of the strangest phenomenons I discovered while reading animal-themed literature in my youth, was found in Farley Mowat's Sea of Slaughter which I couldn't find the strength to finish.

It's a remarkably detailed account of mass extinction in North America, of the myriad species that have gone extinct since ye olde Columbus finally landed.

It was too sad for me to get through and the lack of sustainable development initiatives was disheartening, environmental groups pushed aside with much more authority and infantilization than they are these days.

The general lack of concern for the lives of integral multidimensional animals, reminds me of a made-for-TV film they used to show every year in my youth.

It was designed to encourage children to stop caring about farm animals, in the film a young child passionately loves their pet, who is one day destined for the dinner table.

By the end, they have accepted that their good friend indeed had to be sacrificed, and even though they're rather sad, they still get on with work and play.

I didn't buy it, I still felt bad for the innovative animal friend who had to be slaughtered, and although many other viewers accepted the outcome, I never really saw why it was shown across the land.

Wanting the schoolyard teasing and criticisms to stop I never really pushed the matter, however, and went about my daily routine as other shows appeared on television.

Nevertheless, in Sea of Slaughter Mr. Mowat thoughtfully points out, that when some bird species were going extinct, scientists killed many of the last remaining individuals.

They did so so they could preserve their stuffed remains within a display case, and write about their lives and habits with ominous summative elaboration.

Why they didn't try to save the species was what surprised me the most, in my youth they were the ones dependably engaged to protect endangered animals.

Why does the carnal instinct to embrace death with misguided enthusiasm, still drive so many psychotics like the ones you find within The Freshman?

Fortunately, as the film demonstrates, clever entrepreneurs consistently cheat them.

But what for a world where it wasn't necessary?

To stop people cashing in on death.

*I don't know if it's a must-see for Godfather fans, but I recommend it, it's well done.  

Excalibur

The reliable maintenance of fantastic legend convivially maintained century after century, as the present consistently bores its contemporaries and they adamantly search for entertaining alternatives. 

Odd that a nation as old as Britain doesn't cash in on more of its legends, aren't King Arthur and Robin Hood and Churchill just peas in the tumultuous historical pod?

Their markets are no doubt durable and habitually enable modest artists to prosper, even if some examples lack daring or innovation or narrative depth or multivariability. 

When to release the next instalment look to the Jurassic Park franchise I would, I was crazy excited to see the first one, and lacked interest after no. 3, but so much time had passed before Jurassic World came out, that I found myself enthusiastic again.

I remember seeing the Disney Camelot cartoon when but a wee lad in the 1980s, and how excited I impressionably was to see King Arthur wield sword from stone.

The idea of divine agency still genuinely compelling and keenly motivating, so odd to see it televisually disseminated in mad political advertisements. 

The idea never loses its intriguing longevity decade after decade millennia after millennia, but it ebbs and flows through the passage of time, logic and reason having lost popular ground in recent times due to the internet.

It's disheartening to see so many nations of well-read citizens lugubriously reduced, to listening to broadcasts spread by dictators that they were able to see through when they were 7.

You see the problems with dictatorships or monarchies or oligarchies played out in Excalibur, wherein which you have Arthur's prosperous reign followed by that of woebegone tyrants.

The sad reality that many strict rulers don't seek stable food supplies and infrastructure maintained, but rather personal aggrandizement that leaves the people starving and destitute. 

Thus, democratic stewardship tends to avoid despotic excesses, but the internet is making it ironically unpopular and volatile hardships are quickly returning.

You see the pattern laid threadbare in Jonathan Fenby's France: A Modern History, as manifold wild political compositions emphatically emerge in France post-1789 (42 different governments between World Wars).

But he points out how they eventually stabilized a working efficient civil service, with democratic goals at its tender heart, which has kept things running smoothly throughout the upheavals.

Something to shoot for something to preserve as the Internet Tyrants frustrate like Khan.

So many components they can't comprehend.

Which drives them to seek absolutism all the more.