Great Bear Rainforest

British Columbia's ancient coastal biodiversity, realm of the Great Bear Rainforest, home to wondrous species and the humans who study them, overflowing with composite symbiotic life, a treasure trove of enchanting dense resiliency, where the freshwater of B.C.'s interior blends with oceanic rhythms.

Incredibly.

A very rare type of temperate rainforest found in few locations around the globe, it nourishes unique lifeforms, its currents spiritual fuel.

Not this blog peeps, the forest, I'm writing about the Great Bear Rainforest here, I don't see why I have to explain this, again, but some people just don't get it.

Although this blog does have its charms.

Ian McAllister's Great Bear Rainforest highlights significant features of its bounteous titular domain.

The graceful sea otter, who has flourished since being extirpated from the region, insatiable fashionable greed voraciously hunting it to extinction, its reintroduction coinciding with less rapacious commercial stratagems, as if people suddenly realized they're ever so cute, and left them alone to flourish in wonder.

The majestic humpback whale, who returns every year to dine on herring, its numbers also bouncing back from voracious hunting, although ever so slowly due to low reproductive rates.

Slippery seals, accustomed to gliding through enriching submerged jurisdictions, as focused as they are elastic, in search of scaling symphonic synergies.

Grizzly, black, and spirit bears, the latter in fact a subspecies of the black bear, disharmoniously cohabitating at times, yet still sharing good fortune as they see fit.

I was hoping to see what animals benefit from the ways in which bears alter their landscapes as they dig for food, detecting this and that with their great sense of smell, depending on what nature's currently providing, as they cover vast distances à la carte.

Another time perhaps.

It's cool to see the healthy relationships local First Nations people still cultivate with their environment within, going on 14,000 years, why is sustainable harvesting such a difficult concept to grasp?, fish sustainably and keep fishing forever, overfish, and the resource disappears.

Great Bear Rainforest emphasizes that salmon leaping up waterfalls is the equivalent of humans jumping over four-story buildings (narration by Ryan Reynolds), and then proceeds to share some of the best shots of salmon jumping I've seen.

Bears perched to catch them.

Cinematography by Andy Maser, Ian McAllister, Jeff Turner, and Darren West.

It's a cool introduction to B.C.'s Great Bear Rainforest that depicts nature overflowing with life.

Along with the occasional hardships.

And the robust dynamics of adorable bear families.

Kong: Skull Island

Could it be that islands still exist, prehistorically penetrating legend and myth with unbridled evidenced imposing extant luminosity, persisting undisturbed in majestic unrecorded intransigent galed shadow, a roar, a whisper, more lively and crisper ecosystems biologically invested in atemporal ontological sincerity, harmony, in other words, crépuscule, a delicate balance, a ferocious bottom line, lost in leisure in starlit environs, vigilance required to consummate freedom, at home in the pacific, empirically thine?

I would write that the adventurers weren't ready for their quest if it wasn't for the fact that nothing could have prepared them.

But I suppose the nature of questing demands a forged psychological allegiance between ill-preparation and adaptability, immediacy continuously generating an agile improvised awareness, which is narratively applicable to the epic in hand.

Characters descend on the ancient generally undiscovered home of King Kong in Jordan Vogt-Roberts's Kong: Skull Island, a chaotic campy realistic yet improbable, and therefore emancipating, energetic exploration of the quaintly forbidden.

Their goal is scientific yet commercial and thus the military's aid is bromantically secured.

Friendship, collegiality, professionalism, and love, populate the script with wild rhythmic versatile denizens, its cosmopolitan lodge fertile if not frenzied, the unfriendly monsters ready to eagerly devour those with too much or not enough innate courage.

Plus random soldiers.

But Kong protects them which trigger-happy Preston Packard (Samuel L. Jackson) cannot comprehend as he attempts to kill him to right misperceived wrongs.

His attempts are obviously pigheaded but they do aptly reflect mad extremist methodologies.

The explorers, military personnel, and scientists, curiously encounter an old pilot from World War II who was forced to make his home on the island as well.

He survived by living with an Indigenous tribe who Kong altruistically protects from voracious giant lizards.

Hank Marlow (John C. Reilly [it's classic John C. Reilly :)]) represents the Indigenous people in the film, stands in for them as they (literally) fade into the background, and Packard refuses to listen to his tooth and nail.

Would the ending not have been more striking, more memorable (alright, Kong's fight with the Lizard King is memorable but the surrounding material isn't so much [okay, they escape on a boat, I'll remember that, but . . .]) if the Indigenous peoples stopped Packard before he tried to kill Kong, and everyone then escaped having understood the logic of their decision?

Such a development would have functioned as a salient metaphorical critique of the Vietnam war which otherwise isn't critically examined.

What I'm trying to say is, it would have rocked if Skull Island went Avatar.

With Kong still fighting the giant Lizard of course.

It's still a lot of fun, the new King Kong movie, and, as a matter of fact, I couldn't help comparing it to Planet Terror and Machete Kills since it unreels with a similar more family friendly aesthetic.

There are moments where it captures the magic that makes those films stand out, but the sequels will have to dig deeper for me to mention their names in the same breath.

Again.

I still recommend the film.

A great March release.

I was worried about March this year.

But so far it ain't so bad.