Showing posts with label Accident. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Accident. Show all posts

Friday, October 21, 2022

Maelström

Conflicting emotions morosely problematize picturesque drab conducive momentum, difficult decisions unconscious mourning requisite paramount agile time off.

Through unfortunate circumstance trouble cruelly abounds with the mobile lucrative family business, cascading crucibles Klingon clutches awkwardly aided by a hit and run.


Classic down and out comic lugubrity staggeringly keen to romanticize coincidence, the stars aligned postmodern im/permanence gritty irritable cosmic practicality.


Constant motion demonstrative clarity intuitively reacting to frustrating stimuli, her (Marie-Josée Croze as Bibiane Champagne) family renowned the pressure abrasive outputs enduringly vague inconclusive.


Why all the hassle for simply engaging with piquant particulars precipitous life, the haunting austere adamant duties discernibly daunting lighthearted lackadaisics?


If only taking time off was much simpler a sudden sojourn a querulous jaunt, some place remote perhaps unfamiliar fortuitous fashions restorative calm. 


Not in the cards in this instance as the habitual play grinds dolorous doldrums, although the free sharing of genuine grief begets newfound friendship and lithe l’amour.


A grizzled sizzling disparaging humour harrowingly harks with dissonant certitude, narrated by a fish who keeps losing his head, like your belch tastes like sardines and lime whiskey.


As if the consistent clash of disparate ethics unconsciously produces animate haze, within which peeps must continuously make decisions based upon theories, pragmatism, and expediency.


Within this inherently confusing pinball polemic reason resides, each situation convolutedly clarified through recourse to multivariable mayhem.


The confident decision made can lead to enigmatic trust, any hesitation and everything’s lost even if negatives shake things up.


Social media takes this potentiality to panopticonic levels, like a byzantine web a’ squelched and sticky wherein which myriad strata interconnect.


The clear and rational diagnosis can’t be relied upon to be popular, unless of course it’s fashionable for a monuments brief intersection.


There seems to be less convivial reliance on the sustainability of the collective, as divisive narratives creatively collude to exalt absolute rights.


But Ukraine’s standing tall and fighting off the Russian army.


Wish I could develop a clearer picture.


But then there'd be no maelström.

Friday, April 3, 2020

21 Days

Sometimes the clearest answer's too elemental to swiftly chime, 21 Days presenting guilt and innocence as one man reacts consumed, quixotic.

For a murder has been committed, and the wrong man could indeed be hung, guilt punishing the bona fide culprit, who decides to wait for the binding verdict.

He may be found innocent you see, and then everything's right as rain, Larry Durrant (Laurence Olivier) can marry his cherished belle (Vivien Leigh as Wanda), and perhaps raise a happy family.

He didn't mean to murder her husband, who was in fact a disreputable man, they just started fighting and he wound up dead, the intent to kill never crossed his mind.

He hides the body in an alley and it's discovered by a fallen priest (Hay Petrie as John Evan), who robs it and is caught red-handed, and presumed to be the murderer.

Durrant considers giving himself up but his brother (Leslie Banks) is a prominent lawyer, who's about to be promoted to judge, the slightest scandal would ruin his career, he begs young Larry to reconsider.

While the fallen priest stands trail for murder, Larry and Wanda have 21 days, which they spend in search of bliss, sparing no expense or liberty.

But gloom haunts their freespirited endeavours as the trial nears its catastrophic end, no family, no fantasy, no future, should erroneous guilt descend.

The fallen priest doesn't even mind.

He thinks he should be punished for his desperate action.

Thus you have a devilish comedy masquerading as sincerest drama, its amoral resonance discreetly echoing, its spirited candour dissembled code.

Not me, not this blog, 21 Days.

How could audiences have figured it out when they were having so much fun?, Laurence Olivier instinctually astounding, I see why older generations loved him so.

Its fast pace and irreverent script (Basil Dean, Graham Greene & John Galsworthy [The First and the Last]) (note the legal peeps discussing their light crimes over dinner) overflow with amorous and ethical wonder, a diabolical treat for the cheeky intellect, that leaves you feeling guilty for having appreciated it.

Don't think older generations were uniformly upright with stiff upper-lips, the cheek is always trying to break through, it's just a matter of style and timing.

Great lines nuance realistic situations with audacious unorthodox levity.

The joy of filmmaking. 😜

Also known as 21 Days Together.