Polaris

Monopolistic claims to constellated starstruck legend, find themselves creatively trust-busted in Kirsten Carthew's wild Polaris.

The times are grim and perilous and other people are to be avoided, their habituated menacing murderous instincts bellicosely problematizing friendship.

Sumi (Viva Lee) was raised alone by a kind and compassionate polar bear, who taught her the life saving lessons of multidimensional deft ourskind.

One day while venturing forth they're accidentally separated however, and Sumi is captured by a group of plunderers who proceed to lock her in a cage.

Escape brings tribulation as she's tracked and targeted thereafter, a local fuel provider sympathetic (Muriel Dutil as Dee) but still unable to hold them off.

Could the individualistic warlike preponderance of bombastic sociocultural synchronicities, have transformed a once open-minded community into one prone to consistent bloodshed? 

Thus, even after the haunting end of multilaterally interconnected worldwide commerce, the unfortunate distrust still malignantly radiates where once warm and friendly community flourished.

Even in the isolated far north where food is more difficult to come by, and cohesive interactive communal initiatives seem more requisite to widespread health. 

Even with manifold orchards and farms is it not more prosperous to work in groups, to encourage nutrition and fight off hunger and generally work to holistically prosper?

Conflict does seem to abound as people seek to lead and emphatically pair bond, but do these conflicts need to be inherently destructive or could such impulses be proactively tamed?

You see it in Ghibli's Pompoko where the warlike raccoon attempts to take hold, or in ye olde Dances with Wolves where Wes Studi's brethren lament his aggression. 

Look to Germany in 1946 where I've heard people had to eat wallpaper to survive. That's the end game of fascism. That's where warlike tendencies lead.

I still don't think they could transform the North to such inhospitable despondent degrees, although Ofelas (Pathfinder) tells a much different story, and Russia is currently monstrously expressing itself.

Why not work together to secure food and shelter to mutually accommodate throughout the winter, rather than squandering precious resources on endless conflicts which produce nothing?

I'm not trying to jinx myself here but if you're active during the winter, it's a wonderfully productive time where you can get so much compelling work done.

If people are trying to trick you into embracing the belligerent lifestyle ask yourself what do they hope to gain?

And is your life worth lining their duplicitous pockets?

As they horde the profits for themselves?

Newsflash: it's not. It never will be. Read books. Be critical. 

Beware of the cult of Putin. 

And the North American obsession with Trump. 

*I rarring!

**The poster's awesome. 

The Gold Rush

The lour of abundant riches fluidly flourishing with feverish frenzy, drives The Lone Prospector (Charlie Chaplin) north to seek his fortune in the outspoken wilderness. 

But luck deceptively eludes him as his adventure encounters the void, and without food as winter sets in he finds himself starving in a crowded cabin.

Two others have joined him indeed one having recently found good fortune, the other hunted by the adamant law and in no mood for friendly conversation.

The awkward potentially dangerous situation is not without meaningful comic effect, as inherent absurdity echoes incarnate throughout the vast remarkable land.

Eventually, after an offbeat rendez-vous with understated ursine munificence, it's off to a nearby town to patiently wait for the upcoming spring.

Wherein which bourgeois potential's cloaked within seemingly radical excess, the incumbent seclusion forging molten magnanimity that takes some time for the prospector to get used to. 

But with resonant hesitant accord he peacefully acculturates piecemeal by and by, at least attempting to earnestly grow accustomed to something he'll never quite instinctually understand.

Such a shame to have to adapt to not simply intuit the habitual happenstance, trial and error deemed somewhat unproductive when generally applied to prestigious social life.

There seems to be an art to conviviality which many comprehend with innate fascination, whereas others observe somewhat bewildered by the odd animate freeform merrymaking.

Competing rationalities discernibly conceal fortuitous facts and fashionable variabilities, which spontaneously mutate according to im/perceptible personalized aggrieved or ecstatic revelations. 

Why not a quiet evening at home swashbucklingly scrutinized with celebratory sentiment, the discursive means questing themselves for alert dis/proportionate vigorous censure?

Established semantic inhibition reflexively refreshes bold exotic tongues, as inchoate interactive fluencies effusively flutter to perplexingly fathom!

While the rowdy festive heralding doth still pose sociocultural temptation, newfound habits and tantalizing tranquility often offer clement consignments. 

Brilliant film, every second romanticized with sporting dis/passionate uncanny revels (Happy New Year!).

Amazing country far off, so I hear.

With so much land still yet to be claimed.  

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! 😜

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.

Paddington 2

Effervescently blossoming in tender loving communal kindness, young Paddington (Ben Whishaw) adorably finds his first job.

And second job.

In need of a large sum to buy his Aunt Lucy (Imelda Staunton) the perfect present, he nurtures his latent entrepreneurial ardour, then cleverly earns cold hard shenanigan exalting cash.

He's become a humble celebrity in his neighbourhood and generally generates warmth and good cheer as he happily passes through.

The Browns have kept up their adventurous spirits, projects and pastimes passionately invigorating their days, knowledge acquired accumulating constructive dividends, a salute to the curious and the inquisitive, the bold and the studious contemplatively bustling away.

But diabolical storm clouds lugubriously hang over their enlightening endeavours, after Paddington attempts to catch a thief and winds up wrongfully accused of the crime.

It's off to prison for the young spectacled bear.

A community in shock.

A family in weeping.

Yet as good manners win Paddington unexpected accolades in jail, Mrs. Brown (Sally Hawkins) begins covertly sleuthing, quickly discovering clues and other investigatory aids, which all point in a famous actor's direction.

I thought it was odd to see Paddington doing hard time at first, but as his overflowing innocent goodwill genuinely charmed the hardened convicts, I couldn't help feeling warm and gooey inside, as if I had purchased marmalade flavoured poptopia.

It was still strange that a bear so young, still practically a cub in fact, had to take to the streets to find work, and was then sent to prison shortly thereafter, as if his example was inadvertently critiquing a lack of British child labour laws, or perhaps metaphorically reflecting upon extant predicaments that still thrive in England's impoverished underground, wherein lads and lasses try as they might to study and find work related to their education, but can never outflank an unacknowledged caste system?

Paddington could have gone to school for instance, or studied at home with Mrs. Bird (Julie Walters).

Nonetheless, it is a heartwarming film, even if warm hearts are scorched in conflict, a convivial family friendly multifaceted matriculation, exonerated by pluck and unabashed good nature, motivated by vigour, and brought to life through the power of bears.

Always keep your distance from real life bears you know.

Instances where bears attack humans are rare.

But if one does, you're bound to hear about it in the papers.

Although moments of cute bear-related cuddles often find themselves making headlines as well.

Headlines!

Two Lovers and a Bear

Isolated Northern ubiquitous unity, tumultuously tethered, erratically inundated, to immerse yourself in wills withstanding galavanting glacial inefficacious lugubrity, viscid amorous personal sacrifices stabilizing paramount im/permanent tidal proclivities, embraces pure and reckless harmonizing disputes like polished flagellated leather, seductively saddling sentimental sensations, buckled broncos buck, minus 30 below.

Inexhaustible lovers suddenly bitterly torn by news that one must head South, Roman (Dan DeHaan) derelict in distress, Lucy (Tatiana Maslany) aware of the agony.

Obscurity.

Frigid lunge frolic.

Kim Nguyen's Two Lovers and a Bear everlastingly exonerates to latch in longing, passionately deconstructing itinerancy, bashfully needleworking flukes.

She understands the terrain and smoothly works in several serious issues facing Northern communities without saccharinely besieging her wild poetic narrative.

Inflammatory psychiatry.

Testaments of true love.

Currently my favourite fictional act of love ever.

The past haunts them both.

Great things happening in English Canadian film.

It doesn't introduce you to the North or acclimatize you piecemeal, rather it farsightedly attunes the flight in distance, freeing the story from hewn explanations thereby.

Interiorized.

I would have handled the bear's introduction differently, his first scene with Roman anyways, a bit more time to groundwork the shock.

The abruptness integrates a cheese factor which fortunately melts as time passes.

Supernatural.

That's two romantic films I've loved this year.

That could be unprecedented.

Hearts hearthbeating.

The Revenant

Insolence, disrespect, dishonour, carnal craven incredulous antagonist refusing to make the bold sacrifices required to encourage the convalescence of a helpless colleague, the barren logic of the unimaginative stagnating guilded contentment like lifeless inert gruelling cowardice, sublimity cast adrift, motionless, immobile, utterly dependent upon charitable goodwill, his son, vigilant, his strength, returning.

A mighty hunter, a conscientious man, able to see beyond the colour of one's skin or the pretensions of one's culture, intelligent and fierce yet cognizant of august lighthearted wonder, aware that he must live within the world but ready to embrace the bizarre and the peculiar, revel in family life, catch a snowflake on his tongue.

But the wilderness, the wild, where his exhaustive knowledge exhales survival, remains wild, unpredictable, with others seeking to survive as well, competing proficiencies contracting in the shadows, inspecting, subverting, challenging, strike and you will be struck, a mother bruin raising young attacks as Glass (Leonardo DiCaprio) hunts, he's almost dead by the end of the struggle, the mother resting docile and breathless on high.

He's left for dead by a treacherous goon after the goon kills his son (Forrest Goodluck as Hawk) but the power of the bear focuses his recovery and he's able to improbably begin crawling back home.

Hostile territory adds to his burdens as a First Nations Chief (Duane Howard as Elk Dog) seeks his kidnapped daughter (Melaw Nakehk'o as Powaqa), infuriated by both the insult and the treatment of his people, he attacks first and asks no questions.

Glass makes his way one excruciatingly painful movement at a time, enduring extreme punishment while witnessing naturalistic vivacity, breathtaking harmonies further motivating his resolve.

The Revenant is an incredible film, surpassing Fitzcarraldo in terms of herculean elasticity, each second dependent upon threateningly complex environmental courtesies, iconic patience unfurling in its reels like dedicated enriched spirituality, the production's staggering accomplishments complementing Glass's will, his superhuman endurance, in agile exoteric splendour, delivering a simple tale, with extraordinarily sophisticated refinement.

There's one scene that subtly introduces calm, the resonant flux having suddenly subsided, and just as I was thinking, "this makes an odd fit," Glass wakes up and has to frantically ride his horse off a cliff, brilliant editorial awareness rarely so strikingly realized (editing by Stephen Mirrione). 

And the final confrontation takes place as the sun gradually illuminates a valley's mountainous terrain, as glass firmly integrates the wisdom of lessons learned (cinematography by Emmanuel Lubezki).

Outstanding. Needs to be seen in theatres.

Captain Henry (Domhnall Gleeson) skilfully balances the differences between Glass and Fitzgerald (Tom Hardy), Glass, the man of communal knowledge, the spirit, spending his free time in search of game to eat in a land of plenty, in touch with his surroundings, able to instantaneously decide, Fitzgerald, the appetites, thinking only of his own personal prejudices and the wealth he hopes to obtain thereby.

Henry is in charge and must make the tough calls but possesses a conscience of his own that enables Glass to live even if it imperialistically blinds him to Fitzgerald's ambition.

A platonic helmsperson, with some unfortunate ideas about how to facilitate relations with Aboriginal peoples.

Would Glass have killed him in another life, the memories of his peaceful frontier existence haunting him with ageless sorrow?

He nevertheless remains a man of principle.

Not an ideological zealot.

But a practical human being.

Living in the world.

Co-existing.

Terre des ours (Land of the Bears)

As bears wake up from their cavernous winter lairs, nature slowly unravels a bountiful nutrient enriched spread, the frozen months having left them restless and hungry, ready to once again, embrace their awe inspiring surroundings.

Millions of calories must be stored before winter descends once more, and bears must keep active to consume enough to prepare them for their next extended slumber.

Guillaume Vincent's Terre des ours (Land of the Bears) follows them as they adventure.

I've read about bears maintaining loose familial bonds while foraging, and Vincent's film factualizes this tendency.

A young male heads out into the world for the first time without the accompaniment of his mother or sister, and upon encountering his sister early on in the Spring, takes the time to warmly greet her, before they sit back, stray, and frolic.

Younger bears must learn to be bears as well, and 2 leave their den in the care of their mother, passing the time curiously learning her lessons, while also engaging in bold acts of mischief.

Bears abound in this land and come close to forming a sleuth, although they do often still maintain a respectful distance.

Heartbreak strikes as two young cubs who have lost their mother emerge from the woods to take food from cubs younger than themselves.

I've also read about bears adopting motherless cubs, but this doesn't happen in Terre des ours.

While Disneynature's Bears attaches an endearing narrative to its subject/s, Terre des ours takes a more random approach, interspersing events from various bear lives throughout, while adding relevant and informative commentaries.

Not as cute and cuddly as Bears, Terre des ours's form chooses to accentuate the wilder aspects of their lives, the edited accumulation of footage functioning like an instructive a/symmetrical mosaic, the bears within seeming more like wild animals than huggable teddies, which is an intelligent modus operandi, inasmuch as it reflects both strength and struggle.

It's important for humans to view bears from a distance as a general rule.

Treadwell proved that you can oddly live amongst them for long periods, but it's only a matter of time before you're transformed from observer to snack.

I think over the centuries many bears have learned to identify humans with death, and acculturating them to the presence of humans makes the poacher's crime easier to undertake.

Many of them are like giant raccoons, not related to raccoons, they may still be debating this, but they can still turn and suddenly start hunting you. Raccoons usually split quickly. I was sitting in the forest one day and I looked to the left and saw a raccoon approaching who hadn't noticed me. I waved, it looked up, and took off into the bush full-speed ahead.

If you see a bear, move away slowly, but note that it's likely not going to attack.

The bears in Terre des ours spend most of their time fishing and playing, it's a great film for bear enthusiasts and nature lovers generally.

They've chosen great moments to insert songs with vocal tracks, and sustained a visceral sense of majesty and wonder.

Like the bears themselves are living breathing volcanic lava.

Raconté par Marion Cotillard.

Paddington

Deep in the jungles of darkest Peru, a family of spectacled bears have learned to interact domestically from an adventurous British geographer, spending their time conversing in English while feasting on marmalade, science having been environmentally harmonized with their surroundings, the curious and the coddling, perching merriment's full bloom.

But tragedy strikes as an earthquake shatters their domain, and a loved one is lost, to unforgiving geologic caprice.

The youngest family member, having learned that if he arrives in London he's bound to be looked after by that very same geographer, sets out for the United Kingdom, luck and ingenuity aiding him on his way.

Upon arrival, he meets a kind family who agrees to help him, the husband, begrudgingly, the wife, hospitably, the son, ecstatically, the daughter, morosely.

Comic trials and errors then flourish, as a mystery invites sleuthing, and an evil taxidermist comes 'a callin.'

Set on vengeance and destruction.

What follows is a funny, charming, pleasantly peculiar tale of growth and discovery as a family comes together as one.

Through the power of bears.

Highlights: Paddington (Ben Wishaw) accidentally catches a pickpocket, young Judy (Madeleine Harris) learns to speak bear, whenever Paddington eats something, Mrs. Brown's (Sally Hawkins) outfits, Mrs. Bird (Julie Walters) tying one on, pigeons, baguette sandwiches, the emphasis on codes, manners, heart warmth.

The benefits of learning a Chinese dialect are also mentioned, the relations between youth and age are playfully cross-examined, creative multistep mischievous refinements abound, and there's a focus on understanding, nurtured through well being.

Paddington doesn't really look like a spectacled bear but there could be some variation within the species I'm unaware of.

And he's still young.

Costume design by Lindy Hemming.

You can still interact domestically while speaking bear.

Solid bear sounds.

Loved the alliteration.

Bears

Ebulliently emerging from their cavernous Winter's den, finding themselves scampering behind their ardent Mother, Sky, Scout and Amber, born atop an imposing majestic mountain, must quickly learn what it means to bear, to survive the threatening upcoming months, and ensure that they're fit for their next torpid slumber.

While trying to have a little fun along the way.

Imitating mom is well within their natural dexterities, but precisely duplicating her actions proves difficult, seeing how they may be having a better time revelling in their mischief, adorably exploring this and that, coming to terms with their brief bounding youth.

Sky does her best, nevertheless (Amber's more aware of the danger), teaching them the ancient ways of Alaskan grizzlykind, patient, observant, nurturing, ready to protect at all costs, doing everything she can, to stimulate their growth.

While food is scarce, tensions run high, and finding what would otherwise be a colossal seasonal feast, is fraught with competitive angst, those not possessing the requisite weight impounded, forced to keep searching, until Valhalla dawns.

Disneynature's Bears offers family friendly insights into the lives of young grizzlies, not without moments that may cause you to think not another Bambi, this is the harsh world of bears, beautifully euphemized, alluringly prohibitive.

The film's primary focus is, correct, bears, and it predominantly examines bearkind, which is both a strength and a weakness, clearly evidencing a variety of behaviours for curious audiences, while perhaps not focusing enough attention on surrounding flora and fauna.

I'm curious to know if the filmmakers had a plan for the Bambi scenario?

Mandatory viewing for jurisdictions considering hosting a Spring bear hunt.

How many Scouts and Ambers end up orphaned every year because of such hunts?

How many?

Narrated by John C. Reilly.

Hoping there's a sequel.

The Wolverine

A critical plastic treatise on indestructibility, wherein the mighty Wolverine's (Hugh Jackman) regenerative distinction is resolutely compromised, a family's billions intergenerationally contend with their honour, a seductive viper embodies intransitive antidotes, and an adopted perspicuity prognostically makes dire predictions, James Mangold's The Wolverine sentimentalizes Logan's recrudescence, as he reluctantly travels to Japan, to visit, a man whose life he once saved.

Not the best of X-Men films but full of intense scenes which decoratively dilate their doctrine.

Including a wicked-cool high-speed train workout.

For me, it wasn't the trip to the veterinary student that caused Wolverine to begin questioning his mortality, the look on his face as Shingen's (Hiroyuki Sanada) sword punctures his chest lacerating a more penetrating ageless lesion, combatively materializing his countless confrontations with death.

Which strengthens his own conception of honour, reminding him that if he is to die he should die honourably, his encounter with the grizzly earlier on, Wolverine, friend of the bear, laying the foundations of this theme, returned to often enough throughout.

While pointing out how cruel it is to hunt with poison.

But, don't read this if you haven't seen the film, how is it that Professor X (Patrick Stewart) lives again?

He blew up in X-Men: The Last Stand, blew up.

I'm happy to see him back, preferring his approach to Magneto's (Ian McKellen), and am wondering if he transferred his consciousness to Magneto's before his body shattered, and now has the power to create a projection of himself for those by whom he wants to be seen, only after he has stopped the passage of time, which provides a bilateral explanation for how Magneto was able to partially move the chess pieces at the end of X-Men 3, and a rather tight resolution to the Professor X/Magneto conflict, the powers of both leaders adhesively united as one.

Wondering how Mystique will fit into this one.

Her powers must have returned somehow.

Considering watching All of Me again.

Awesome bear scene.

Brave

Traditional gender roles are set ablaze in Disney Pixar's Brave, the magical tale of young Princess Merida's (Kelly MacDonald) coming of age.

Disillusioned by her culture's tradition of demanding that a mate be selected from a tiny prestigious feudal stock, and the rather strict regimen of feminine codes of conduct to which she must adhere, while the men train for battle, the feisty Princess shelves her mother's (Emma Thompson as Queen Elinor) strategic plans and rides off into a forested nexus.

Wherein resides her destiny.

And a witch who provides her with a treacherous tasty treat which turns her mother into a bear upon her return home. 

August insurmountable accumulative wisdom having been startlingly transformed into the wild unknown, little Merida must find a way to relax the resulting tensions and restore order throughout the land. 

As a product of adrenaline.  

The film's piecemeal approach to socio-cultural structural modifications presents a practical framework within which transfigurations can be cunningly concocted, considering the myriad factors which need to be balanced when tempering historic-ideological architectures.

Wasn't impressed by its top-down approach however.

The bears are pretty cool though. 

Not the ferocious bear.

Suppose the other bears aren't really bears either.

There are moments of playful grumpy bearness nevertheless.  

Bears.   

Yogi Bear

Jellystone Park is in dire straits. Wicked politician Mayor Brown (Andrew Daly) has decided that its trees must be harvested in order to raise enough capital to keep his bureaucracy functioning. He supports his decision through recourse to a bylaw which states that government supported organizations must earn enough money to cover their operating costs each year, and Jellystone is tens of thousands in the hole with less than three weeks to come up with the cash. Ranger Smith (Tom Cavanagh), documentary filmmaker Rachel (Anna Faris), Yogi (Dan Aykroyd) and Boo Boo (Justin Timberlake) are none to impressed and immediately launch a campaign to sustain their way of life. But subterfuge and treachery are afoot and due to the fact that they don't coordinate their fundraising efforts, Jellystone is threatened with annihilation.

Eric Brevig's Yogi Bear amusingly examines the dynamics of federal and provincial politics. As the right uses local laws to attempt to destroy a public resource, only a national regulation can be applied to thwart it. The left is divided and it isn't until they learn to collaborate that a successful counterattack is launched. The idea that government supported organizations must cover their operating costs is clearly embedded in the script, a fiscal challenge to the sacred cultural essence of parks such as Algonquin. Do logging companies want to cut down the trees and exploit the resources within these Parks? I'm sure some of them do. Do they have deep pockets and lobbyists who are consistently trying to find ways to break down the legal protections preventing them from doing so? Methinks it's most likely. Is it a good idea to promote a fiscally responsible environment wherein such parks cover their operating costs? Sounds like prudent planning to me. But should said parks be commercialized in order to achieve such goals at the expense of the endemic wildlife etc. whose proliferation reflects the purpose of such parks? Definitely not, and for a good example of the negative impact on protected wildlife within commercialized parks see The Grizzly Manifesto by Jeff Gailus. He's smarter than the average bear!