Henry V

Was curious to see more of Laurence Olivier's celebrated work, and realized I had perhaps been somewhat hasty by overlooking his Shakespearian cult. 

Thus to return to the elegant bard whose gift for language surpasses so many, to once again bask in ingenious horseplay distilling eloquent novel reckonings.

I was impressed by Mr. Olivier in Henry V but not as blown away as I thought I would be, even if I struggled to think of who could best him, and only came up with a very short list.

The lack of mind-numbing esteem which I was unable to share with Olivier to be certain, is an unfortunate byproduct of his heroic method which he generously shares through rich humility.

That is, his Henry is modest and sincere much different from the vain boasting oft encountered these days, and although he still shines through with resonant fortitude, some of his genius may have been held back.

Not that I would have wanted him to brag or gloat or bluntly engage in übermasculinity, but had he found himself in Branagh's more hardboiled film he may have had more time for intrigue and mischief (not that Branagh wasn't impressive himself, I haven't seen the film for 30 years but loved it in my youth [his Frankenstein wasn't very good though]).

I did wonder considering the times if Marlon Brando had ever tried the role, having recently watched The Godfather again and been genuinely blown away by his performance.

My mind switched to Brando and Shakespeare and I have to admit I couldn't come up with anything, until Google reminded me he had played Mark Antony long ago in Julius Caesar.

But he shockingly turned down Hamlet which if I'm not mistaken is a sought after role, it could very well have been that he preferred America and wasn't as enamoured with the best of Britain.

Olivier took on the role however I haven't seen it yet but will watch it soon, is there more bravery for embracing theatrical superlatives or mesmerizingly inventing fresh characters anew?

To see them both at odds on the stage may have seemed incredible no doubt way back when, but Britain often steers clear of the Americas, unless they're reunited in fantasy and science-fiction.

To dream humbly nevertheless of a stately dialectic theatrically apotheosized. 

Yet the giants often respect each other's talent.

And professionally leave so much up to the imagination. 

Abigail's Party

There's more to the appreciation of art than the ready-made exemplars designated famous, personal choice and inspirational lounging eclectically factoring in novel unpredictability. 

It's therefore important to make your own choices based upon what you specifically enjoy, not simply a work that's been historically lauded, but rather something you genuinely love.

There is the cocktail party game where you're supposed to recall celebrated painters and writers, and correspondingly list their famous works while modestly reciting what's been written about them.

It's not such a bad thing to be well-informed and aware of the critical continuum, but if you start to gather a collection of your own, are you doing so because you like it, or someone else does?

I admit to having more respect for the kitschy aficionado than the literate snob, even if I disagree with many of their choices, I still highly value their unabashed individuality.

If you can learn the categorical distinctions while also cultivating your own subtle voice, you may develop enviable taste that for a time may clearly fascinate.

It's not about being right or wrong you see it's more like romance or falling in love, it's difficult to find cherished longing in a textbook when you could be globetrotting with a Nickelback fan. 

When you start to read all the conflicting accounts that defiantly challenge the encyclopedic status quo, and become immersed in the critical maelstrom thoughtfully keeping things fresh and active, it becomes apparent that there really aren't any foundations although manifold traditions joyfully emerge, but with the lack of organic resonance, why do your own preferences not also matter?

Thus, there is vitriolic criticism passionately unleashed in Abigail's Party, regarding the elevation of paintings exuberantly categorized through aggrieved sincere textbook learning.

I feel bad because he's trying to educate himself and I widely support such scholarly ambitions, but he loves and brags about things simply because he's rather quite certain that he's supposed to.

His wife's more into the modern and couldn't care less what anyone thinks.

She's still rather cruel to him however.

So hard to hold it together.

If you're ever critiquing your personal decision to indeed never marry perhaps watch this film, and chant decisively with the blessed thereafter since really thank god that isn't your life.

Not that married life doesn't certainly have discerning benefits bachelors miss out on.

But you eventually reach a certain age.

Where it no longer holds much mischievous meaning. 

*Criterion keyword: beaver 🦫 

Diplomatie

The abominations of the Third Reich in ruins, the allies surrounding and closing in on Nazi Germany, General von Choltitz (Niels Arestrup) is tasked to obliterate Paris, ordered, commanded, focusing on its most prestigious architectural venison, to aggrandize Berlin, as it shatters, and prepares for annihilation.

But his command centre betrays him.

A Swedish consul has been watching (André Dussollier as Raoul Nordling), listening, strategically planning his alimentary counterstrikes, voyeuristic rhetoric, announced, risked, deployed.

Competing ethical disciplinary conceptions argumentatively converse, the fate of one of the world's most cherished cities hanging in the balance, militaristic and magnanimous aesthetics desperately franchising disparate souvenirs, time has run out, every syllable must be weighted and choreographed, quickly, rapidly, while seeming logical and scientific, prolongated micropassions, iron set aflame, rigid principled adherence, to jingoistic madness, roasting on the pyre.

He must be saved.

His subordinates would lack his discretion.

Minuscule macromovements.

Abeyance in the heavens.

Diplomatie pokes and prods the cultural and the historical like saintly pensive prose, fortune, tact, and understanding, coalesced to spindle posterity.

Embattled importunate persuasion.

Sailing in the wings.