An Unfinished Life

A loving mother (Jennifer Lopez as Jean Gilkyson) packs up and leaves after her partner becomes abusive (Damian Lewis as Gary Winston), her daughter happy to leave things behind (Becca Gardner as Griff Gilkyson), as they head back to the wilds of Wyoming. 

There the child's grandfather awaits (Robert Redford as Einar Gilkyson) and is something of a grouchy mcgrouchersons, but he means well and sticks up for the downtrodden even if he's difficult to get along with.

His partner (Morgan Freeman as Mitch Bradley) was mauled by a bear and is now generally confined to his belovéd cabin, not blindly seeking rash vengeance, preferring to let the seasoned bear live in peace.

The bear's still around in fact and is eventually captured and then encaged, not in the most hospitable confines, it's sad to think he's no longer roaming free.

Jean and Einar are at odds because Jean accidentally killed his son, after falling asleep at the wheel, he tries but can't honestly forgive her.

She finds work in the old rugged town as 'lil Griff takes a shine to gramps, as he teaches her old school ranching ways, chartered chillin', inchoate enrichment.

But something doesn't sit quite right about that bear's sullen incarceration. 

A plan is hatched seeking animate freedom.

Even though he has quite the temper.

It's a strange mix in An Unfinished Life between different types of violence, on the one hand Jean clearly has to leave her relationship, no one should put up with that kind of nonsense.

But on the other an injured stalwart goes to great lengths to forgive a bear, it's possible he or she may strike again, but are they just functioning according to instinct?

I was happy to see a sympathetic attitude kindly applied to misunderstood bear kind, grizzlies used to range across so much more of North America, and now they don't have very much land left.

It's clear the human has had opportunities to change and definitely should have known better, it's different for a wild daring animal who may freak out if you suddenly surprise it.

Still though, if a bear strikes once and there's no strict penalty, what happens if it strikes again?, if you could transport the bear into the wilds of Northern Canada and Québec, however, there won't be many people around (although bears have been known to travel vast distances back to their original hangouts after being relocated).

The vast majority of the time the bear won't strike according to the books I've read, I've seen several while out and about as well, I've kept my distance and never had any problems.

If only bears were never grouchy or somehow aware of the danger they're in.

I truly believe many of them are.

And that either way they've never meant us much harm. 

Since our ancestors landed! 😜

Indian Horse

The legacy of the residential school system which afflicted generations of First Nations children still reverberates today.

A problem with taking religion too seriously, as noted by many others I'm sure, with institutionalizing it and using it to guide governmental policy, is that the people operating within such a bureaucracy don't think they derive their power from fallible mortal men and women, they believe it comes from an all-knowing supreme being, and if they think that they are correctly acting in the interests of a supreme being, that somehow they logically figured out what that being actually wants them to do, it's a completely different kind of managerial ego, because everything they do is sanctioned by perfection, and if their interpretation of his or her omnipotent designs is legally and politically considered to be nothing less than perfect, they tend to believe their actions are irrefutably just.

No matter how cruel.

The residential school presented in Indian Horse doesn't even teach the students real world skills like mathematics or logic, rather it focuses on meticulously studying the bible as if its compelling stories will help them learn how to become accountants or lawyers or doctors.

Thus, as multiple other sources have noted, many students didn't have the skills to find any job whatsoever after graduating, and since many of them had been systematically abused throughout their formative years, many fell into a dire cycle of drug addiction and alcoholism on the streets.

And were plagued afterwards by uninformed cultural stereotypes which developed.

It's not something you just shake off and forget about.

Indian Horse examines a colonized people doing their best to play with a deck stacked against them.

Racism ubiquitously assaults them as they boldly compete, as they regularly face daunting challenges.

One student is gifted athletically and seems poised to make a name for himself in the NHL (Sladen Peltier, Forrest Goodluck, and Ajuawak Kapashesit as Saul).

But he faces internalized demons and mass cultural characterizations that turn the most thrilling time of his life into a harsh struggle.

He would have made a huge difference for any team that had signed him.

If the goal is to win hockey games, why does anything other than one's ability to help teams win matter?

I, Tonya

Piecing together an identity can be laborious work, requiring years of dedicated research and a mastery of sundry source materials, a striking caricature then struck from the resultant reams of research that hopefully captivates both lay and expert viewers or readers alike, with its traditional exceptions, critical controversies exemplified notwithstanding, how does one classify an individual?, I'm still not certain, but can loosely stitch different economic realities together, if so tasked, or perhaps, commissioned.

Some worlds within worlds, however, the figure skating world as it's depicted in I, Tonya for instance, delicately existing within the unpredictable rambunctious buck of wild hardworking American egalitarian miscellany, prefer such narratives to eagerly adopt a prim presentation, as they're inspirationally and influentially disseminated to curious fans, exceptions to the rules obdurately punished for their lack of eloquence, even if, like Tonya Harding (Margot Robbie/McKenna Grace/Maizie Smith), they're one of the greatest representatives the sport has ever seen.

In the U.S even, where a versatile hardboiled lack of gentility has long been its cultural calling card.

More research required.

But you would think that in a culture which also prides itself on athletic achievement, funds would have been made available to assist young Tonya in acquiring the expensive outfits she couldn't buy, especially after she became the first American female figure skater to land the triple Axel, it wasn't the case though, according to I, Tonya, and instead her sartorial ingenuity often resulted in belittling judicial penalties.

Not that goodwill would have saved her.

Eventually, her foolish abusive shitbag husband's (Sebastian Stan as Jeff Gillooly) Cro-Magnon friend (Paul Walter Hauser as Shawn) ruined her career by facilitating an act so loathsomely stupid it still occupies a prominent place in the halls of true idiocy.

True infamy.

Strange film.

The music and mockumentarially realistic interviews set it up like a rip-roarin' homebrewed good time, but then you watch as Tonya's constantly abused from the age of 4 like director Craig Gillespie found a way to incarnate hair on the dog, and it's disconcerting.

You bought it.

Even with all that national attention she still had nowhere else to go, and the people whom you'd think would offer support, the aristos of the figure skating enclave, seem to have given her the crystal clear finger, perhaps hoping her unsuitable image would then quickly fade.

She was tough though, didn't back down, kept fighting until her supporting cast fucked shit up irreconcilably, an iconic American.

The film's really well done if it isn't disturbing.

Frightening.

Don't know where the truth's to be dug out of it but it certainly does facilitate some sincere craziness.

General sobriety's a good thing if you're competing internationally.

I'm not saying the world of figure skating should be like a monster truck rally, although that might make a funny tv movie, but perhaps it could be more sympathetic.

Seems like Ms. Harding should have had a lot more support anyways.

More research required.

As it stands, I, Tonya's an American tragedy.

Always great to see Bobby Cannavale (Martin Maddox).

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri

Martin McDonagh cranks up Sympathy for the Devil and holds nothing back in Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri, as an abusive bigoted homophobic policeperson does the right thing for once after a lifetime of gross civil indecency.

The schematics.

A grieving mother (Frances McDormand as Mildred), whose daughter was brutally murdered, rents three billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri, to boldly call out the local police chief (Woody Harrelson as Chief Willoughby) for having made no progress on the case months later.

Her fury is justified and her disobedience sincere, even if members of the local constabulary don't see it that way, members who no longer take the case seriously.

An individual's reasonable observations therefore conflict with statistics and precedents, the police having handled similar cases before, and done relatively little after their initial investigation led nowhere.

Did complacency brought about by years of cold routine cause them to simply ignore the case?

Possibly.

Spoiler.

The police chief, who is dying of cancer, does commit suicide not long after the billboards go up.

This isn't Mississippi Burning.

Even if Ebbing's blunt righteous inspirational indignation generates hardboiled perdition, wherein which everyone is scorched in the flames, including James (Peter Dinklage), unwittingly, who's introduced to critique Mildred, or to reflect upon a culture so saturated with stereotypical thinking that no one's done anything genuine for decades, until the three billboards go up, after which people who don't have much experience feeling suddenly find themselves culturally enraged, unprecedented emotions wildly seeking semantic clarification, it's no Mississippi Burning, a film that doesn't present the racist pretensions of the local police force so lightly.

But the Feds aren't called in in this one, and even though I'm a forgiving man, and love a story that sees the hardboiled ethical transformation of a character like Dixon (Sam Rockwell), a grizzly tale that doesn't shy away from gruesome cultural codes, he still brutally assaults people and the law doesn't hold him to account, apart from taking his badge away, and I don't see why the metamorphosis of the brutally violent police officer is being celebrated with awards, when Wind River, another dark film that examines stark polarized realities, which is also well-written and compelling, was released in 2017, and ignored by the Golden Globes.

That's called white privilege, I believe.

Was The Revenant too soon?

The Book of Henry

Analyzing, classifying, observing, planning strategically, effortlessly clarifying complicated commentaries with lucid logistics and rational rummaging, holistically heartstrung self-sacrificing harmonies configuring chisels, conundrums, reimb(o)ursements, just desserts, a boy 11-years-old with genius adult skills contemplating, growing with his community emancipated as one, desiring no exceptions, isolation, esteemed status resolute, living a quiet life with his mother and brother, chill, nonabrasive.

He's born witness to disgusting abuse involving an upstanding high ranking local official, however, and has recorded every detail collected in a condemnatory notebook, complete with pertinent verbal accompaniment.

He's sought to see the beast enchained but his pleas have been ignored by those he's been brought up to trust.

Will the sudden realization that he's seriously ill prevent justice from courageously awakening?

And can Henry's (Jaeden Lieberher) devoted mom (Naomi Watts) aid his covert endeavours, bravely commanding truthful woes compiled?

Recalcitrance.

Shouldn't you help single moms with children below-leave-raking-age rake their leaves if you're able and they clearly aren't doing it?

The Book of Henry tenderly yet incisively enlivens small town life from a caring youthful perspective intent on altruistically discovering.

Capable of multifacetedly adorning seemingly disparate variables with warm cohesive easy to understand expression, Henry immerses to nurture his home town's native strength.

Like Jessica Chastain in The Zookeeper's Wife, Naomi Watts demonstrates her profound versatility by dynamically bringing to life scenes which may have held less impact if they had been crafted with less patient conscience.

Not to say The Book of Henry doesn't present first rate storytelling.

The bright script, scintillating cinematography, sure and steady direction, and serious acting, impressionably blend to provoke both adolescent curiosity and age old thought.

Solid for youths and adults alike.

It portrays the big picture with heavy yet innocent brush strokes which lightly yet solemnly define an inclusive social aesthetic.

Hopeless cynicism fades in the wake of its proactive swathe.

Sleuthing hunches and intuitions, verifiably bold and confident.

Precious: Based on the Novel "Push" by Sapphire

Lee Daniel's Precious lucidly deals with difficult subject matter in a heartbreakingly blatant fashion. Claireece "Precious" Jones (Gabourey Sidibe) is illiterate, pregnant with her second child, overweight, and constantly abused by her vicious mother (Mo'Nique). Whenever she encounters another round of caustic verbalizations she instantly retreats into a fantasy world where she's where it's at and everything's perfect. Things are seriously hard up until she receives the chance to study at an alternative school where she meets a colourful cast of disenfranchised characters. After finally having met some people who treat her with respect, she begins to bounce back and develops a colourful personality of her own. Definitely not the easiest film to watch, Precious provides its audience with a bold taste of what it's like to suffer. While overtly displaying some of the most gruesome representatives of humanity, it also champions hope and focuses intently upon how one can escape an outrageously abusive situation, thereby saluting democratic social safety networks and the strong individuals responsible for making them work.

Stroszek

In Stroszek, Werner Herzog once again examines an impoverished individual's descent into madness. Stroszek is the tale of Bruno S. who also appeared in Herzog's The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser and almost took the lead role in Woyzeck. Bruno S. was reportedly so disappointed at having not received the role of Woyzeck that Herzog wrote Stroszek specifically for him, and many of Stroszek's stories and locations are taken directly from Bruno S.'s experience.

I love the ways in which Herzog's films often focus upon the disenfranchised amongst us. His heroes are neither rich nor well dressed nor clean cut nor opportunistically swift but their humanity is rich in ethical substance and their suffering packed with disenfranchised grittiness. Stroszek has spent most of his life in and out of institutions where things have been miserable at best. Upon being released from jail, he is presented with an opportunity to leave Germany (where two pimps harass him daily) and start a new life in America (to which he departs with his prostitute girlfriend).

Of the numerous images and allegories that Herzog presents throughout, there are three of which I took note. First off, while still in Germany Stroszek visits a hospital to discuss the problems he is having reintroducing himself to society with a benevolent doctor. During the scene, the doctor laments the inadequate ways in which he is able to respond to Stroszek's inquiries and decides to illustrate how everyone experiences such hardships. In order to do this, he shows Stroszek a baby, born prematurely, who suffers from a particularly troublesome ailment. Herzog holds his camera on this shrieking newborn for an extended period of time, allowing us to soak up the image. While viewing this image, I was struck with the ancient idea how can there be so much suffering in a world as beautiful as this?, and how can something as innocent as this helpless baby grow up to be tormented in a fashion similar to that of Stroszek? That's only one way of examining the scene of course, and as the film progresses and Stroszek's torment evolves we're left wondering if he'll accept the doctor's advice, recommending patience and goodwill, or finally snap.

Second, Stroszek is introduced wrapped beneath a sanitary, institutional robe. The image subtly introduces us to his character and challenges us to consider whether or not someone who has experienced so much state sponsored care will ever be able to transcend their history. And third, there is an interesting scene that takes place after Stroszek arrives in Wisconsin, where two farmers are fighting over a piece of land, shotgun at the ready, to ensure that no one cultivates the land dividing their properties. The middle ground over which the farmer's are fighting can be thought of as representing Stroszek or the modest individual, those who are too damned nice and don't know how to stand up for themselves, silently waiting to be caught in the cross fire.

Stroszek is a powerful film and an insightful study of the detrimental effects of rehabilitation. Experience can be difficult to overcome once it becomes an inveterate, immutable, reality.