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. 

Mothra vs. Godzilla

A mysterious giant egg suddenly appears off the Japanese Coast, its contents baffling yet still intriguing, as diverse interests eclectically gather.

Unfortunately, environmental initiatives fail to posture before the egg is (absurdly) sold, by local entrepreneurial opportunists hoping to monumentally prosper.

A more ambitious wealthy exhibitionist hopes to create a theme park through Happy Enterprises, and entertainingly showcase the egg while also selling treats and delicious refreshments.

Concerned journalists soon learn of the plot and set about cultivating public opinion, hoping to create a massive uproar which may encourage government intervention.

They lament that there's no legal recourse to directly challenge the developers in court, especially after two miniature citizens suddenly arrive from Mothra's island.

Apparently, the typhoon sent Mothra's egg on a disquieting maiden voyage, and they've come to argue for its return especially since noble Mothra is dying.

The adventurists care not for her plight and refuse to give up their lucrative treasure.

Just as Godzilla comes a' callin'.

Hellbent on countercultural carnage.

A crash course in socioeconomics instructively awaits in Mothra vs. Godzilla, perfectly laid out with accessible language which any curious audience member would easily comprehend (with English or French subtitles 🤷).

Mothra vs. Godzilla may even indeed be a solid didactic tool to be used in classrooms across the land, schools effectively saving resources and time by simply showing this ridiculous film.

Perhaps that's what happened, there's no equivocal doubt that environmental regulations in some jurisdictions are much stronger, and that if you want to develop land like Ontario's Greenbelt, you first have to acknowledge local regulations.

Thus, the public outrage the journalists seek to nurture in ye olde Mothra vs. Godzilla (Mothra shows up in spellcheck but Godzilla doesn't), would likely also be backed up by laws progressively created over the course of the last century.

Hence, instead of bravely spending the last moments of her life epically battling the formidable Godzilla, Mothra could have cared for her fledgling young and perhaps even named or taken them for their first flight.

Perhaps Godzilla disputatiously emerged to figuratively encourage the creation of such laws, I've seen several nature shows about Japan, and it seems as if their wildlife is flourishing (except for whales 😢😭😿🐋).

Sad that Mothra had to physically give her life for such a turn of events to jurisprudently take hold.

Her larvae born argumentatively composed.

Their perspicacity irritating the aggrieved Godzilla!

Licorice Pizza

The motivations behind Paul Thomas Anderson's Licorice Pizza remain somewhat mysterious, and may depend upon whether or not he's friends with Quentin Tarantino. 

Mr. Tarantino is well-known and highly respected for making brainy yet sensual nostalgic metakitsch, that seeks to recapture a raw aesthetic that wildly flourished in yesteryear.

His devotion to the genres is quite commendable, and when it works, a film for the ages, at least I'll keep watching Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction, and Inglourious Basterds throughout my life, and will be up for checking out his other films one if not several more times, it's possible I missed something the first shocking run through.

With Licorice Pizza, Paul Thomas Anderson also seems to be seeking to resuscitate a bygone aesthetic, but it's difficult to determine if his attempt is genuine, in fact at times it seems as if he's subtly lampooning attempts to resuscitate bygone aesthetics themselves, unless I completely missed something, if this film's meant to be taken seriously, my apologies. 

I've missed new music in my life since the pandemic started and cut me off from my favourite festivals, I can always search for new music online, but I'm still kind of old school, I like to head out to find it.

The lack of new or old music I've never heard before in my life has made me highly susceptible to catchy songs I hear on television, even if at a later date I can't believe I was sucked in.

But that didn't happen with Licorice Pizza. It's soundtrack isn't classic Tarantino. I was confused by Bowie's Life on Mars which is an amazing song, but the rest of the music left me unimpressed, even though I'm highly susceptible. 

It made me think Anderson was deliberately choosing lacklustre songs to see if he could disingenuously stultify Tarantino's success, perhaps in relation to some harmless wager between the two, although it could also just be a simple matter of preference, but my sensors were somewhat bewildered, due to my heightened susceptibility. 

Some of the situations weren't particularly captivating as well, like struggling to find gas during a fuel crisis, or trying to sell waterbeds.

Was Anderson subtly lampooning an aesthetic he developed (I'm not that familiar with his films)?

The title also seems like something someone would come up with if they were trying to playfully criticize a technique or style they didn't genuinely respect, like something one of the male co-stars Anderson consistently critiques in the film for having no class would have come up with, and tried to laud as if it was something exceptionally astounding, which it isn't.

The ending's still quite well done, a traditional elevation of newfound love modestly blossoming amidst scandalous tomfoolery.

My apologies again if this was meant to be taken seriously.

Otherwise, a metacritical masterpiece.  

The Blot

A professor patiently educates for a small salary which hardly provides, his envious wife tired of their grim necessities as she yearns for her neighbour's abundance.

The neighbour knows how to make elegant shoes for trendy jet-setters with finicky flair, his seemingly flippant fashionable know-how much more highly valued than painstaking learning.

Well-off students within the Professor's class engage in shenanigans to pass the time, their disruptive behaviour resignédly noticed, appeals are made which esteem respect.

One of them can't help but take note for he's wholeheartedly fallen for the Professor's daughter, and stops by the library where she works every day for bursts of inspired well-meaning conversation.

She is also desired by a reverend whose monthly pay also lacks modest agency, and the son of the fortunate cobbler who would like to meet her as soon as he can.

But social prestige and occupational pride prevent the free movement of their innocent offspring, who struggle to comprehend their rather disheartening sociocultural stratification.

But The Blot was made when reform was afoot and sought to envisage less rigid realities. 

As to how they've played out a hundred years later, it's difficult to gauge within micro parameters, although The Spirit Level: Why Equality is Better for Everyone provides insights, which critique Anglo-American pedagogy.

There's certainly a steady stream of progressive ideas presented in film, books, music, and television, but alternative absolutist pretensions have bleakly arisen in recent years to contest them.

Rather disillusioning to see the autocratic leverage swiftly take animate hold, it seemed so irrefutably farcical and grotesque that it was shocking to see it transform the public sphere.

It's like there used to be distance between comedic reflection and its general applicability to cultural life, as if comedians knew what they were saying was ridiculous and never thought they'd gain prominent influence.

Although I'm being somewhat unfair since so many comedians do make funny applicable comments, but so much of it became violent and bigoted in recent years while disparaging so much constructive endeavour.

Another compelling exploratory book to be written if it hasn't been already who has the time?

Comedy is an essential democratic tool since it provides a voice to so many who disregard pretension and fight lofty totalitarianism. 

But if it becomes resoundingly violent and then develops pretensions of its own, it can become sincerely distressing if you disagree with its disengaged reflections.

Honeyland

In the remote wilds of Northern Macedonia, an innovative maiden makes endearing ends meet.

In touch with fickle nature, ensconced within her environs, she harvests nurturing honey, to swiftly sell to local merchants.

A true friend of bee kind, she takes no more than she requires, and shares that which she humbly consumes, with her industrious agile constituency.

Never guided by greed nor gluttony.

In harmony with rustic enrichment.

Not that she's making huge disposable sums, but she has something left over for a bit of fun, and is able to care for her loving mother, who lives with her in modest surroundings.

Itinerant neighbour farmers move in to harvest nutritious honey as well, but they lack Hatidze Muratova's knowledge, and proceed in error in search of profit.

Motivated to gather much larger quantities, they fail to consider the health of their bees, as a third party eggs them on, who's more concerned with sugar than soul.

Shouldn't one always care for their workforce?

Ensuring health to prolifically prosper.

While respecting local traditions.

And maintaining holistic balance.

Honeyland follows Hatidze and her new age neighbours as they employ different management strategies, one in touch with solemn longevity, the other breeding contempt in haste.

The honey looks so delicious.

Eaten right off the comb!

Abounding with innovative nutrients.

Synergistically savouring strength.

Honey's one of the most wonderful things and it's a miracle that it exists in nature, a vital juxtaposition provoking thought, inasmuch as something so sweet can critique so severely.

Bears love it.

I imagine other animals less immune to stinging do as well.

I find bees won't sting you as long as you remain calm. If one lands on you, don't move, rest immobile, patiently wait 'til it freely moves on.

Even if one lands on your lip.

Or your eyelid.

Bees.

Honeyland's also hardboiled and distinct, vividly capturing woes of hard living.

Difficulties of having to start work so young.

Without recourse to community or medicine.

The spirit of independence durably thrives within, vibrantly generating lush sustainability, through hardcore pluck and spry versatility, thoughtful observation, long-lasting care.

Hatidze Muratova's an individual like no other.

Her story brought to life by a documentary team.

A moving imaginative tale.

Overflowing with intense life.

Not to mention some harmless fun.

Laidback immersive simplicity.

Harrowingly disturbed.

Resourcefully contradicted.