Midnight Run

A mischievous moneyman suddenly flees with 15 million in cold hard cash, his life in serious objective danger as he's hunted by the mob.

He's also swashbucklingly jumped the generous bail that was put up for him, the furious cash poor unscrupulous bailbondsman hiring a bounty hunter to track him down.

The FBI also need him as a witness to put the ruthless mob boss behind burnished bars, and want the bounty hunter to securely help them in the strident pursuit of the creative malcontent.

The mob offer the sought after bounty hunter an enormous sum to hand him over, but he stubbornly refuses and makes his way risk-fuelled and daring.

The baidbondsman loses faith in his trusted man when he loses contact, and hires another bounty hunter to track him down as he makes his way across the U.S.

As to be unexpected the crafty numbers man turns out to be kind, not an exacting cold hamstrung blank but more of an uncle you see every birthday.

As time passes and the various interests slowly converge with restrained excitement, the somewhat brutal hard-hearted ex-cop has to admit he likes his quarry.

But let him loose and suddenly lose all that sought after quick-easy money?

His conscience battling sundry surmises.

As the journey bivouacs and gesticulates.

Intricate and inherently misleading the expedient Midnight Run diabolically proceeds, to obdurately search for a subjective answer to conflicting dilemmas interminably flounced.

With classic hardboiled streetwise dialogue the gritty script garners grizzly accolades, as the frustrated opponents blindly contend in an opaque contest fading and shifting.

If you were ever curious about Charles Grodin it's one of his more interesting films, he steals scenes and emphatically impresses as the conscientious bold endearing number cruncher.

Robert de Niro impresses as well as the hesitant once highly-decorated cop, who had to reluctantly find alternative employment due to endemic corruption on the force.

The action's constant in consistent flux as the myriad characters awkwardly engage, like a searing rough dishevelled carnival tempestuously twitching and chaotically toned.

With the old school focus on multiple characters conditionally respected within the script, given ample room to bombastically express themselves as the mayhem cacophonously resonates. 

Should it be classified as Film Noir, there's no femme fatale but the bounty hunter's unlucky, and it's certainly grim and lowdown but not without intricate style and dignity. 

High stakes storytelling nevertheless thrillingly occupying dissonant thresholds.

Lugubrious chivalry, delirious flux.

Skilfully shorn.

Not just another cop film.

*Yaphet Kotto's good too. 

Raising Arizona

At times, the constructive benefits of living a dull yet productive life, fail to impress the potentially high-rolling illicit transgressive provocative crowd.

But enduring grace ironically saves an awkward confused convenience store thief in Raising Arizona, as he falls in love with a beautiful cop who takes his picture every time he's brought in.

He eventually wins her hand and they soon swiftly realize they're indeed somewhat married, and therefore expected to responsibly nurture uptight consistent bourgeois contingencies.

Things take a grandiose maladroit turn when friends from the joint come a' humbly calling, however, having escaped and in need of a place to slyly hold up for the foreseeable future.

It's even more intuitively stern since H.I and Ed were unable to have children, yet recently noticed that a furniture salesperson's wife had just had quintuplets on down the road.

They then managed to acquire an active son through ill-gotten-improvised lacklustre means, yet in their attempts to forge a legitimate family were ill-prepared to accommodate felons.

With bounty hunters in search of the youngster and the destitute guests planning a lucrative heist, the conjugal duo just tries to raise junior and function as respectable husband and wife.

A tumultuous tale effervescently bound to inordinate cascading of diligent degrees, effectively unable to immersively ameliorate as chaotic circumstances diabolically dishevel. 

Comedic instincts wildly disseminating a lack of balance and cohesive structure, the cultural rules and abrasive regulations perhaps too stable for such ways of life.

Alas the embrace of dependable codes can seem inalienable when viewed from a distance, but if attempting to randomly realize them you may encounter highfalutin infrequencies. 

Consulting a laidback professional such as a marriage counsellor or family planner, may lead to less outrageous conduct should you have difficulties succeeding as one.

H.I and Ed don't really seem like readers but there are television shows and documentaries that can also help.

Note that they're both striving to make things work.

And likely doing a better job than ye olde Kermode. 

John Wick: Chapter 2

Releasing a sequel to a visceral revenge film which shockingly surpassed critical expectations is a delicate affair, ironically in John Wick: Chapter 2's case, since you can no longer count on the objective bonus points freely dished out to reward the original's novelty.

You can sustain the momentum however, if you don't let the praise lift your spirits.

While still trying to craft another viral perplexity.

John Wick 2 sticks to the facts.

There are rules to be followed, no exceptions to be made.

Neither fairness nor camaraderie come into play.

At work.

In the age of the sensational superhero, Wick(Keanu Reeves) represents a humanistic counterbalance.

He may be the best assassin living, but he doesn't possess supernatural gifts and can contend without technological superiority.

He's just really freakin' good at what he does.

Don't screw it up.

Lickspittle.

Like pastis, grand marnier, amaretto, or amarula, with the humble demeanour of a 6 pack of bud, Wick reluctantly excels at authentically overachieving, with a kitschy pyrotechnic array of distinguished underground ex-factors.

It's enjoyable even if you know what's coming.

There's an art to writing blunt dialogue that leaves nothing to chance and states exactly what's on a character's mind.

The dialogue in Chapter 2 doesn't blow you away, but it, ah, sticks to its guns, with first rate integrity.

High-stakes slipstream.

Treacherous precipice.

Nocturnal necromancing nostrum.

They set up a hell of a third instalment.

Momentum sustained.

But the evocative visual style of the first film is missing.

There's a cool showdown (multiple cool showdowns) in an art museum though.

Professionalism oddly drives the narrative like sharks at corporate headquarters I suppose.

*Can one of these sequels be Man with the Golden Gunesque?

Chapter 2 is crazy violent.

The Hateful Eight

*This one's kind of gross. The rules. A different set of rules.

It's difficult to take an exacting intellect capable of exotically yet haphazardly envisioning distinct pulsating shocks and successfully apply it to situations which often import stark congenital gravity.

You have to seem bright without seeming intelligent, unconcerned while meticulously managing the minutia.

In an enlightened stupor.

If you seem too intelligent it's too intelligent; if it's too bland, it's too bland.

You see Tarantino trying to intelligently craft visceral mundane irresistibly kitschy constellations throughout The Hateful Eight but the result is more like a blunt racist ultraviolent unappealing dust bowl.

That's not what you're supposed to do!

It's not that he doesn't have his own thing happenin'.

It's quirky and bizarre enough to make you want to see what's going to happen next, and his confident grizzly backwoods characters hold your attention with outrageously dispassionate abrasive machismo, bullshit, bullshit, more bullshit, mendaciously striking with cold hard-hearted disparity.

It's just, you keep seeing what happens next and it isn't that great, some of it's kind of cool, but there's an extended back-in-time sequence that serves little purpose but to depict a lively happy frontier family being slaughtered, there's torture and rape, the main female character's face is regularly covered in blood because her captor keeps punching her in the mouth, and the races are irrepressibly at odds as the hatred viciously intensifies.

I suppose if you want to indulge in gratuitous gratuity, sleaze for sleaze's sake, that's okay, I guess, I don't know why you would want to do that but it's done all the time, I don't want to be too politically correct here, The Hateful Eight firmly giving the finger to pc everything and it should be examined on its own terms judiciously.

Like, scatological synergies.

Claustrophobic acrimony.

Renegade nausea.

Hemorrhoid puke stink.

One of the first things I thought when I saw the trailer for The Revenant was, "this is what Quentin Tarantino could be doing, he could be making films like this."

But then I thought, it's annoying when people are like, you should be doing this, so I was like, I'm not going to be like that.

Inglourious Basterds is an incredible film that I love watching again and again. It succeeds on so many levels and even has valuable life lessons to learn worked into its frames.

I'm not getting that from Django or The Hateful Eight and think Tarantino should move away from exploiting race relations.

He could give the serious yet comedic unconsciously pliable western one more try, but like I think I've said before, it's extremely difficult to do.

In danger of being eclipsed by Robert Rodriguez.

Troublemaker studios.

Heuristic halcyon.

Guardians of the Galaxy

Penetrating deep within the lighthearted ventricles of fashionable intergalactic cysts, reflexive agility accommodating both the hunting of bounties and the wisecracking elite, plans projected then prorated, the deviants atomically deified, internal struggles, deconstructive precision, posterity balancing the incision of the blade, a rabble, a rabble arousing, athletic unexpected altruistic instance, for serenity's stringent spawn, the edification of the miscue, teamwork, trust, in tune.

Peter Quill (Chris Pratt) accidentally assembles a formidable team.

They have no choice but to restore order to the galaxy.

Well, not galaxy, more like the region of space they happen to be occupying.

She's green (Zoe Saldana as Gamora). Like on Star Trek.

The film intertextually plays with Star Wars as well, respecting, not glorifying, to hyperdrive into its own interplanetary perspectives.

And a characters says, "there's too many of them."

Searched for a YouTube collage but couldn't find one.

Classic.

I thoroughly enjoyed watching this band of misfits unite to attempt to thwart a fanatical genocidal dick, self-sustaining in their independence, stronger fighting as one.

Cheesy at times, but still raw, resplendent, and finicky.

Can't wait until they save the Avengers.

That must be coming up at some point.

Although, if the frequency of these films increases, curtailed earth shattering attempts to subjugate entire planets are going to start to seem humdrum, unless they continue striving for excellence.

Peter Quill saves Tony Stark, then gives him the finger.

On down the road.

Transformers: Age of Extinction

Humanity has forsaken and betrayed the Autobots in the latest Transformers sequel, forcing them to strategically dissimulate in order to avoid detection.

An intergalactic jailer by the name of Lockdown (Mark Ryan) seeks to imprison Optimus Prime (Peter Cullen), punishing him for disobeying his creators, uniformly inhibiting his hard-fought freedom fighting.

Megatron's brain has been harvested and the technological secrets residing within have led brilliant scientist Joshua Joyce (Stanley Tucci) to believe that the power of the Transformer can be governed by Homo sapiens.

A new generation of Transformer is therefore created, to be used as military drones, the Autobots having become obsolete.

Fortunately a feisty independent struggling inventor has discovered the whereabouts of Mr. Prime, and he remembers the sacrifices he made, improvisationally fighting by his side.

Scolding his young daughter all the while.

The resulting combat, wherein the American individual boldly teams up with the abandoned to challenge the forces of oppression, is ingeniously summed up in the film's best scene, which sees Mr. Joyce cowering in a Hong Kong elevator, a momentary respite, from the cataclysmic confrontations.

Anyone notice the apartment complexes in Hong Kong?

Wow.

The act of creation unites the converging storylines, along with issues of operational control, to thematically cap the series's 4th instalment.

Convincingly hypothesizing a new set of sociotechnological indicators, while economically aligning them for the film's terrestrial inhabitants, earning a living subconsciously contends with manufacturing a soul, to experimentally produce a sensationally revelled playing field.

Because Age of Extinction is so long, the introduction of the Dinobots seems somewhat tacked-on.

However, the introduction of the Dinobots, is, awesome.

The President doesn't make an appearance and I'm betting when he or she does it turns out to be one of the members of Dark of the Moon's most disputatious romantic couplings.

Their presence was missing from Age of Extinction.

But the anticipation is something to look forward to.

Machete Kills

Impressed by Machete Kills.

So many great lines in this film.

It's like Kyle Ward and Robert and Marcel Rodriguez really took the extra time and care a quality ridiculously sensational over-the-top film needs to be convincingly down-to-earth yet mesmerizing and decaptivating.

It sets a high standard for other filmmakers working along similar lines, and, much like Planet Terror, gives them something to aspire to.

Luz (Michelle Rodriguez) has her other eye shot out and then gets up to fight blind?

Fully loaded machine gun breasts?

The heart that refuses to cease beating?

It's the President on the phone?

El Cameleón?

No need for rhetorical explanations.

It's rare that a film so confidently and quickly moves from the improbable to the ludicrous to the exceptional, so sure of itself, so Machete (Danny Trejo).

Oddly, whereas I thought Sherlock Holmes: Game of Shadows faltered by situating Holmes (Robert Downey Jr.) in an international scenario, Machete Kills excels precisely for this reason.

The Last Stand had a similar cast but lacked Machete Kills's sharp-edged artistry.

Pacific Rim had many great lines but I'm afraid it's no Machete Kills.

Let's just throw in Star Wars.

The next one takes place in space.

In space!

Like Star Trek II in terms of outshining its predecessor.

Not that I'm comparing Star Trek: The Motion Picture to Machete.

I'm wondering if Machete can somehow be worked into an Avengers film, either through reference or by making a direct appearance.

The Avengers could use some Machete.

A rugged old-school indestructible hero.

Going to see this film, again.

Riddick

After a lengthy hiatus, Riddick (Vin Diesel) returns, once again stuck on a desolate hostile planet, forced to battle and befriend to survive.

The film appeared to be a rip off to me in the previews, The Chronicles of Riddick having ended with Riddick sitting atop the Necromonger hierarchy, having vengefully transitioned from irrepressible individual to potentially influential figurehead, but I thought I would ignore Riddick's retrograde decision (and bland title) to focus more intently on Pitch Black, worrying about what could have been created seeming futile, wasteful, and unproductive, Riddick still featuring Riddick, iconic bad ass, incontrovertible anti-soldier, that being okay.

But Riddick does explain how he came to be isolated once again and the explanation lacks credibility, considering how easily he consistently outsmarts his adversaries, and the obviousness of the trap he falls into, although he does acknowledge his moment of weakness through narration, and was dealing with quixotically clever foes.

Still, how did he fall into that one, seriously, come on?

Also, when he transmits his presence on the planet to the universe at large why didn't the Necromongers come after him? If he's still alive, he's technically still the Lord Marshal, and should have therefore been cravenously or ceremoniously sought after, by those with an interest in logistical legitimacy. Perhaps they wanted to wait and see if someone else could handle their mess for them, but if anyone knows how agile Riddick is, it's the Necromongers, meaning they likely would have wanted to settle the score personally, as the crow flies.

S'pose this sets up the next sequel though, fingers crossed.

At one point during Riddick, I thought he might quickly outmaneuver the two sets of Mercs intent on his capture and escape to reinstate himself within Necromonger lore, but as it became apparent that this would not happen, I begrudgingly acquiesced.

There are some classic Riddick moments, some classic Riddick lines, some classic Riddick obstructions, and the beginning which focuses on his survival tactics is arguably the film's best feature.

Some key developmental diagnostics flaccidly fluctuate, however, leaving a strong, explosive, crystalline character searching for better material, a fitting ending for this film, now that I think about it.

Really loved the edited version of The Chronicles of Riddick. Waited for this film for years.

Identity Thief

Loved Planes, Trains & Automobiles growing up.

Arguably both John Candy and Steve Martin's best movie, it brought together two of Hollywood's leading comedic actors, set them up as a mismatched pair, simultaneously catered to bourgeois and working class sympathies, and used Thanksgiving to tie everything together.

By the end of the film, Neal Page (Martin) has been transformed from a cold representative of the bad bourgeoisie who have no social conscience to someone who will at least invite a lonely friend to his home for dinner.

Del Griffith (Candy) smiles, everyone's happy, the end.

26 years later, Seth Gordon's Identity Thief works within the same paradigm, but the cultural codes of the game have changed.

If we're to take the information provided in Michael Moore's Capitalism: A Love Story as solid indisputable fact, unions had generated stable, prosperous bourgeois lives for many working Americans until their strength was weakened by the Reagan administration and many of their jobs shipped elsewhere, some, in the interests of capitalism, to at least one communist country.

Theoretically, a significant proportion of the American population were no longer able to maintain their suburban lifestyles (in the same location over a long period of time) and found themselves individually competing for new jobs in a pop cultural system that vilified anything besides the undeniably exceptional.

Does this theory resonate throughout little old unsuspecting Identity Thief?

I don't know, but here's my take.

Lead character Sandy Patterson (Jason Bateman) is struggling to get by, working for a corporation who only values the contributions of upper management, living with his wife and two kids.

He's played his cards right but at the end of the month only has a little more than 14 dollars of potential savings to show for it.

And trouble's a brewin.'

Diana (Melissa McCarthy) makes her living stealing peoples identities and using them to finance her freewheelin' acquisitive lifestyle (Patterson seems like he's too smart to have fallen for her scam, but that's another matter).

She steals that of Mr. Patterson just as he launches a career as the vice-president of a new company.

Naturally he's pissed, and sets out for Florida to confront and bring her back to Denver, due to infrastructural peculiarities that prevent the Denver PD from working with their Floridian counterparts.

But he's not the only one in hot pursuit, for she's run afoul of others seeking vengeance who track and attempt to overcome Sandy and Diana after Sandy captures her.

By the end of the film, Sandy's developed a social conscience at least to the degree where he cares about one of the proletarian characters who ends up in jail.

Most of the proletarian characters (likely) end up in jail.

Thus, as good jobs become harder to find than they were in the 1980s, working American people find themselves resorting to a higher degree of criminal activity, much more violent than John Candy's family friendly shenanigans, corporate upper management remains influential and unaffected unless those whom they disregard can out-compete them in the marketplace (hopefully without becoming like them during the struggle), wherein which these competitors might lose everything, as some seem to have even though they had stable unionized jobs, which possibly faltered due to their lack of a coordinated multidisciplinary international network.

Among thousands of other rather complicated factors of which I'm unaware.

Identity Thief's script contains a broader array of consistent characters than Planes, Trains & Automobiles, Melissa McCarthy's performance is strong enough to indicate that she may be able to function as a 21st century John Candy, there are some funny scenes which utilize sleaze as everyone chases, tricks, slanders, and/or shoots at one another, which seems to be the comic style of our time, but it's not attached to a holiday, and is missing a substitute for Steve Martin.

Jason Bateman's good. I love his work. Bold to compete with Steve Martin. I wouldn't even be able to order coffee for an extra's stunt double.

Genesis Rodriguez (Marisol) is my favourite real world name ever.

No mention of the Broncos.

Django Unchained

Easy to write about this film it is not.

I heard Sheldon Cooper (Jim Parsons) quoting Nietzsche during an episode of The Big Bang Theory the other night, and his point considered morality to be a barrier which prevents truly 'great' persons from attaining their full potential, since it requires that they conform to the standards adopted by common people. I tend not to see it that way myself. It seems to me that morality is often denied common people, depending on their financial circumstances, and, due to the significant economic advantages attained by the überwealthy, and the accompanying capitalistic social reverence, that morality is reserved for plutocrats and oligarchs, at least in terms of settling legal disputes (I don't know which thinker to attribute this idea to so I'm going with Leonard [Johnny Galecki]). There's a lot more to it than that, but this can obviously be frustrating and it's within this disenfranchised brutal frustrating ethical frame that Quentin Tarantino's Django Unchained cataclysmically reacts, his undeniable parageneric ingenuity once again limitlessly unleashed, although not as consistently as it has been in the past.

The same incomparable skill for creating iconic heroes and villains is at work, and since nothing is held back, both sides accumulate plenty of critical ammunition, accentuated by his requisite offbeat sensational ludicrous treacherous altruistic asymmetrical logical arsenal, although some of the (crackpot) theories, phrenology for instance, could have possibly been left out altogether.

Giving a voice to such ugly historical phenomenons and making that voice extremely detestable causes the theories themselves to come across as reprehensibly as they should, and it's not like racist lunatics don't still blindly believe in them; and applying restraints to the exhibition of ideas is anti-democratic, although such ideas themselves are extremely anti-democratic and are still being virtuosically displayed.

It's a bit unsettling.

The resultant graphic constant death also unsettles while begging a comparison to several prominent cartoons which regularly use such devices.

Organized fighting and sports are obviously going to be violent and provide a necessary supervised outlet for such tendencies.

It's the constant graphic choreographed extended hopeless brutality that sets Django Unchained (and Archer and South Park) apart from these realities, offering a sadistic carnal sick ostentatious fantasy, for those who regularly act according to social conventions, yet often feel as if or are deprived of moral compensation.

I love Quentin Tarantino's films but it's tough to watch enslaved grown men fight to the death, then see another torn apart by dogs, and another almost undergo castration.

The film's lighthearted comedic dimension complicates things further.