The Earthling

A curious youngster who's been raised in California finds himself back in Australia visiting the Outback, his Aussie dad resolutely determined to introduce him to his heritage.

But he's not ready for the immersion and shows hesitation when boldly tasked, his father realizing it will take some time to get him used to the verdant zone.

Meanwhile, a cranky elder vigorously returns to the old haunting grounds, dying of cancer he hopes to make it resourcefully back to his old homestead.

He's a freakin' tough mofo who built his house out of rocks from the forest, with his bare hands well far away from road or industry or helping hand.

The young boy's parents begin to squabble on the top of a massive cliff, and as he searches for ample firewood their camper flies off, death awaiting below.

He's crestfallen and patiently waits for his mom and dad to emerge from the wreckage, myriad animals making the night seem rather frightening as it descends.

He's soon discovered by the grouchy man who shows no sympathy when they meet.

And introduces an no-nonsense regimen designed to teach him wilderness survival.

The Earthling's from a different time when Man's Men featured more prominently in film, not that they don't still today I just can't imagine a new film that's this insensitive. 

The poor kid has just lost his parents and at one point his cantankerous saviour, leaves him alone on an imposing cliff face while a pack of wild dogs bite at his feet below.

In classic hardboiled fashion everything's find and they're friends at the end, the young child who once feared going swimming in mountain pools now ready to catch wild birds and wallabies.

I imagine it was stubbornly made in the bountiful wake of ye olde Storm Boy, with which it jams to the hard-edged sounds of deafening clashing bleak death metal.

The child in Storm Boy having been judged to have comfortably had too much of the good life, he of Earthling is obstinately taught to fend for himself hours after his parents die.

The wildlife shots are amazing many different Australian animals shown, from echidnas to koalas to emus there's a cute-cuddly feast for the loving romantic.

Indigenous wisdom is shared and relied upon as they diligently make their way through the bush as well.

Extremely unsympathetic.

With a ton of cool shots from the Outback. 

Ikiru

The fluid motion of the bureaucratic stream meticulously generating endless paperwork, to be filed and effectively categorized as emergent initiatives continuously diversify.

A steady job punctilious no doubt but relatively safe with benefits and comforts, not as lively as poetry or sword fighting but still dependable, reliable, and calm.

Nevertheless, concerned citizens seeking dynamic change may run into hardships, if things stagnate and there's no will to moderately adjust the status quo.

In Ikiru, for instance, determined mothers seek to change their environment, due to the incorrigible waste water leaving their children covered in rashes. 

Coincidentally, a senior civil servant who loves his family and is known for hard work, unfortunately discovers he has stomach cancer and only 6 months to a year left to live.

He decides to uncharacteristically withdraw some money and extemporaneously galavant around town, and soon becomes harmlessly infatuated with a spirited younger employee from work.

As she becomes bored with their routine which is somewhat too outgoing for the conservative climate, she asks him why he likes to spend time with her and he bravely decides to answer.

Her youthful spirit it captivatingly seems has reinvigorated his thirst for life, and caused him to reimagine his working role and spearhead change within his department.

They never see each other again but her accidental influence bears auspicious fruit.

And without much time left to live.

He charismatically champions change.

Stick with Ikiru's good intentions it gradually builds to a wholesome climax (Ikiru, not the United States), difficult to make a thrilling bureaucratic film that modestly presents humble good natured caricatures. 

I'm so used to Kurosawa's samurai that this was a surprise full of uncanny feeling, where the civil service functions bucolically amidst the insurgence of lay councilpeople.

I wonder if it was inspired by Dickens it's like The Circumlocution Office in Little Dorrit, where one of its employees isn't exactly like Scrooge but still wondrously changes for the communal good.

Imagine translating Dickens into French let alone Japanese brilliant translators are invaluable. 

How to understand different languages so well at such high levels.

Mind-blowing to say the least!

We Live in Time

Temporal constraints motivating and hindering the progressive development of vigorous contemplation, the ticking-clock accentuating bold constructive split-second or strategic plans.

The resonant calm seductively sustaining positive thoughts multivariably exercised, tantalizing fruition anticipated and swathed as definitive timelines filter and structure.

The potential for limitless editing as mischievously suggested by Mr. Orson Welles, also provides lithe and tempting bearings to the infinite reimagining of spiritual studies.

The thriving possibility the interminable tantrums the heuristic horizons the enchanting escapades, demonstratively connecting interactive achievements intermittently coalesced through spontaneous reinvention.

A play's history the variety of performances exceedingly relates to unlimited mutability, the contemporary difference the hubris assumed fantastically enabling bright ahistoricity. 

We Live in Time we adapt and age as newfound challenges and developments alter, well-rounded paths and convincing philosophies economically synthesized through cultural schemata. 

We Live in Time the inherent ridiculousness of geologic masses imperceptibly duelling, inspiring romance and chaos and tragedy as biological rubrics scale and rupture.

We Live in Time the capricious seasons habitually recalling tracks and trajectories, temperate enlivened invigorated festive potentially sentimental breezes crazing.

We Live in Time emergent generations interactively communicating multifaceted alternatives, incongruously compiled in abounding treatises ephemerally delineating temperate eternity.

What a gamer, this determined Almut, who refused to yield even though she had cancer, who still competed in an incredibly demanding event even though she might suddenly die.

The forecast wasn't hopeful but she still may have lived if she had taken it easy, but if she had done so and missed out on the challenge and still passed, it would have seemed so utterly unbearable.

Cooking mind-blowing meals that one feels sincerely embarrassed to eat, like you're devouring Deutschland Café XIII perhaps while discussing the weather with someone who isn't listening.

It'd be fun to compose a poem while examining and appreciating such a meal in real-time.

A picture will have to do for now. 

Dazzling and light, endearing forays. 

Thor: Love & Thunder

I must admit to reflexively preferring Star Trek's classification of the Gods, in the age old episode of The Original Series where the Enterprise's crew encounters Apollo.

He had to leave Earth long ago and set out to the Heavens in search of worshippers, along with his Greek and Roman brethren, eventually settling on an isolated planet.

Upon encountering the crew of the Enterprise, he seeks to coerce their admiration, but the imaginative space-faring ill-disposed citizens soon find a way to outmanoeuvre him.

Thor is rather chill for a God preferring to sleep in and engage in horseplay, when the people need him he courageously responds but otherwise disdains regal pomp and pageantry. 

Thus, he fits in well with laidback demonstrative interstellar particularities, and is much easier to actively root for than someone demanding obedience and loyalty.

I thought it was cool that Marvel included the less widely known Norse Gods in its narratives, because it was fun to learn more about them while watching the athletically staged theatrics.

But Love & Thunder introduces every God the all and sundry you can possibly imagine (even Q: The Wingéd Serpent), it's out of touch with the creative genius that led to the X-Men and the Avengers.

The abundant Gods no longer seek worship but rather inhabit a far off realm, where they lounge about and entertain as decorum permits with unheralded alacrity. 

Thor fittingly disrupts their balanced order keeping in tune with contemporary shenanigans, functioning in a similar way to Captain Kirk in that Star Trek episode from long ago.

Marvel and D.C's creative brilliance has no doubt been proven time and again, but as their films continue to exponentially multiply has Star Trek's multivariable imagination been overlooked?

Gods no doubt exist within the diverse multilayered Trekkian sagas, but the emphasis is usually on how human ingenuity can resourcefully outwit them.

Star Trek isn't as reliant on superhuman strength or exceptional idiosyncrasy, to find a logical working solution to the crafty predicaments it faces week after week.

Rather it champions science and the ingenious solutions expediently found, by a group of curious travellers who search the universe to expand their minds.

Marvel and D.C etc certainly deserve a place in the forefront. They've dynamically carved multiple scenarios overflowing with daring and remarkable teamwork.

But something's lost if Star Trek's focus on the human factor loses its cinematic edge.

Not just human, alien as well.

Interactively engaged in inclusive environments (where you'd also find Thor).