Grave of the Fireflies

Soulful siblings emphatic play youthful deliberations innocent slumbers, confused comprehension sabbatical sedge tragic ubiquity wartime horrors.

Bedevilled bombardment continuous clawbacks inherent disaster allied alacrity, weary world warriors destitute dogma dissident delineation fascist fetters.

Lugubrious license paternal pandora receptive relatives unsought isolation, codes unfamiliar stilted routine acute misunderstanding strict dismissal. 

On their own lacking knowledge and networks improvised desperate sincere initiative, what more could kids be expected to do?, expedient acclimation enigmatic envelopment. 

Initial hopeful exotic ingenuity amicable innovation friendly festivities, bullfrog bullion firefly fortitude exceptional courage elusive symbiosis. 

Severe surroundings draconian doppelgäng stubborn psychosis obdurate angst, pervasive paucities widespread famine stoic starvation communal clashes.

Delirious dolomite contagious collocations unconscious impertinence illicit logic, ventriloquist vestige woebegone withering incredulous sacrilege misanthropic morosity.

A beautiful child anxiously awaits newfound necessities enriching food, her not-that-much-older brother passionately engaged in reasonable acquisitions stealthy sacrifice.

What war creates, the miserable endgame the impoverished hopeless collective terror, inconsolable cadence excessive despondency inexhaustible dolorous interminable distress.

Living off wallpaper dismal demarcations wholesale obfuscations stagnant rejuvenation, static progress apocalyptic nadir limitless abeyance inert productivity.

Undisciplined demagogues illustrious rogues hysterical sedition belligerent aggression, decadent dustbowls ritzy aggregate determinant detritus infertile soil.

Grave of the Fireflies presents life and beauty unfortunately mired in incomprehensible visions.

Painstakingly highlighting the miseries of war.

With nature and storytelling.

And blunt discretion. 

*Kids may be too young for this film's hard-hitting message (don't start wars). It's the saddest children's film I've ever seen.

Démanty noci (Diamonds of the Night)

The blunt tiresome imposition of exacting extremist cacophonous doctrine, inflexible coercive stone totalitarian limited unimaginative codes.

With everything narrowly prescribed with short-sighted grim oppressive tidings, the threat of harsh dismissive punishment leads to absent playful recalcitrance. 

With people fearing for their lives the tension palpably pervades, otherwise constructive interactive harmonious multidimensional communal initiatives. 

It's difficult to courageously refuse when facing tenacious organized opposition, even if that's what must be done to preserve inherent lithe vitality. 

Two characters in Démanty noci (Diamonds of the Night) see an opportunity to break free, from a train taking them to a concentration camp during the carnage of World War II.

Youthful and free of guilt and alertly aware of their people's innocence, they flee through a nearby wood with the hope of finding food and warmth.

Director Jan Nemec captures their frightened thoughts as they beg at rural lodgings, deprivation producing uncharacteristic distracting wild unwholesome rumination.

They hold it together however and don't act on their destructive impulses, making their way through the inclement climes while others gather to track and hunt them.

The desperation is manifested through shocking visceral lamentation, as others seeking to maintain their freedoms incoherently give chase.

Divided the country's people do the work of their oppressors for them, everything they're forced to do against their will an abomination.

What country understood Nazi oppression more than the routinely terrorized Soviet Union, who lost millions of its own citizens before it outmatched Hitler's armies?

Who was more deserving of a hero's welcome in contemporary legend and heraldic song, after the war came to an abrupt end and Nazi Germany was reduced to ruin?

Yet who now uses the same brutal tactics to subdue a country against its will, to force the peaceful democratic Ukraine to abandon nation, hope, and freedom?

Historical street cred valiantly gained as Russia fought off Berlin, now lost to their embrace of fascism and imperious monstrous violent aggression.

Who would have ever thought it would come to this twenty odd years ago when amicable thoughts, were disseminated far and wide as the world sought widespread peaceful accords?

It has though nevertheless and the people of Ukraine bravely fight on.

Unwilling to yield once more.

United together as one.

*Written last winter.

John Q

I'm happy that we have great health coverage in Canada and Québec, and I'm glad that everyone has access.

I'm glad my friends and family and neighbours can see a doctor or visit the hospital without having to pay out of pocket, and that the wide variety of services available continue to expand beyond limitation.

I know it's frustrating having to wait.

It would be nice if things moved more quickly.

But the services are still available and they're available across the board.

Watch Michael Moore's Sicko watch John Q check out the nightmare, awaiting the privatization of health services if there's less of an emphasis on public health.

Imagine you suddenly had to come up with over $200,000 to pay for medical bills, which the insurance plan you had paid into for your entire life wouldn't cover.

Imagine that if you couldn't come up with that money one of your loved ones would die.

Without public health this isn't a rare occurrence. 

Without universal health care it's par for the course.

Universal health care is a sign of enduring progress and practical community, a sustainable way to ensure widespread health at all times across the land.

If we can hire more doctors and invest in hospitals wait times should decrease, and more of our medical school graduates will find the jobs they've worked hard to get.

One of the big differences between private and public health care, as outlined in Maude Barlow's Too Close for Comfort, is that public health care workers put people before profits, while private health is more interested in money.

Thus, the private hospital sets a goal of profits to be earned in a specific month, and then sets about trying to earn them. If there's a shortfall come the 31st heads will roll and people will lose their jobs, hence services are cut for employment security's sake, as administrators with no medical knowledge try to save money. If they save money and produce higher profits the private board running the hospital is more impressed. Therefore, there's an impetus to be as cheap as possible while pretending to provide expert service.

In the public system people care about health and finding more efficient ways to take care of each other.

While providing access to all kinds of different specialists.

For a thriving culture.

It's a total win-win.

Chattahoochee

A veteran from the Korean war who managed to distinguish himself has trouble fitting in back home (Gary Oldman as Emmett Foley), and after having grown tired of picket fence pastimes, tries to get the police to shoot him for the insurance money.

He winds up in a psychiatric institution and finds he's in for the long haul, a distressing situation to say the least since he really isn't that insane.

His coherent reflexes help him observe the unfortunate general corruption, the cruel and unnecessary punishment routinely handed out by the sadistic administration.

He keeps track of the abuse in writing and eventually even studies introductory law, learning enough to air legitimate grievances which are generally ignored by unsympathetic staff.

Meanwhile, as the years pass by, his child ages and his wife (Frances McDormand as Mae Foley) seeks divorce, his sister (Pamela Reed as Earlene) never giving up on him, but somewhat perplexed by the daunting legal fees.

Consistent protest within the facility leads to frequent confrontation, irate guards and frustrated staff with no inclinations to change the management.

It's an old school animate take on social justice and institutional reform, the assertion of rights by those left behind by a system thoroughly unconcerned with how to take care of them.

You get to see Oldman and McDormand in their youth delivering exceptional performances, even if Chattahoochee has issues, you can see why these actors made a go of it (didn't they win best actor and actress in the same year? [2018]).

The thought of being generally sane and finding yourself locked down by bureaucratic codes, is aggravated by the reality that so many others who lack rationality can do exceptionally little to freely defend themselves.

Fortunately, Foley's work prevails and over a hundred reforms are introduced, and he's eventually released a free person to passionately deal with middle-aged life.

I imagine things have remarkably improved since Foucault wrote Madness & Civilization, in some jurisdictions anyways, which hopefully aren't suffering from stringent cutbacks.

It seems that caring for the sick goes without saying and there should be principled professionals who proceed accordingly.

Too bad stories like Chattahoochee still emerge.

Laws should prevent sadistic reckoning.

*There's no secret meaning here, no underlying code. This film was released in 1989 and I'd never heard of it. That's why I chose to watch it.

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.

Gauguin: Voyage de Tahiti

Irrevocably restless, never satisfied, constantly searching for sober novel inspiration with inexhaustible molten severance, erupting in fits of doubt and displeasure, encamped in violable abandon, glacial patience laboriously un/restrained, deep freezes and heat waves embryonically articulated, searching for radical bewilderment, impecuniously torn and strained, ambidextrous ambitions quotidianly qualified, seaside simplicity, inconspicuous nebula.

There wasn't anything else Gauguin (Vincent Cassel) could have done, although realizing this he likely should have embraced celibacy.

He seems to have been responsible inasmuch as he constantly worked to improve his art, dedicated to his personal tasks, resolved to carry on, but his wives and children were left destitute, as was he for much of his life, I suppose his family could have gone with him to Tahiti, although if I had several children and my partner was an artist who had never sold anything and was approaching 40 I likely would have moved on even if it would have crushed me.

Details.

Gauguin: Voyage de Tahiti doesn't present many details from his life, apart from the fact that he left his family behind in France to find inspiration in Tahiti where he met another woman whom he treated brutishly while painting.

The film condenses various aspects of his life into short scenes that depict him working, loving, playing, breaking down, scenes which infantilize his social relations while romanticizing his artistic stagger, the scene where a doctor notices that he isn't painting anymore adding sympathy and concern, the scene where he locks his wife Tehura (Tuheï Adams) up while he goes to work accentuating his callous desperation, as he realizes he has nothing else left, and is aware that must seem unappealing.

A bit of a scoundrel I suppose, base instincts overpowering free spirits at times as nagging hopelessness engendered cantankerous decay.

You still have to imagine you're Gauguin, you're a struggling dismissed talented artist with nothing to hold on to later in life besides works that aren't selling and intense stubborn commitment, no one recognizing your talents besides yourself, students prospering while you struggle, you have to situate yourself within his rugged composure, while remembering that you may have been less lascivious had you no steady income in the age before birth control, to take something enduring away from the film.

You could probably learn more about him from reading 5 pages of a biography.

But would you be able to imagine you were there, struggling as he struggled, toiling as he toiled, watching as everything he risked and loved slipped away, with as much doting dour devotion?

Voyage de Tahiti presents vivid impressions lacking in substance but full of rich emotion.

The other side of the world.

Lost in love at play.

Star Wars: The Last Jedi

I'd wager that when George Lucas set out to write Star Wars Episodes I-III he imagined himself creating sophisticated scripts which would politically and ethically diversify his intergalactic creation through a tragic appeal to universal social justice.

Tragic inasmuch as the Jedi would be betrayed and the Emperor would inevitably reign supreme.

It's possible that Star Wars: The Last Jedi writer and director Rian Johnson respected this aspect of Lucas's vision (he did achieve that aspect of his vision) but wanted to tone it down a bit, or to make Episode VIII easier to follow anyways.

If that's the case, well done.

In fact, The Last Jedi's a masterpiece of unpretentious chill ethicopolitical sci-fi activism, not to mention an explosive Star Wars film, way done to the nitty-gritty.

Best since Jedi.

Possibly better than Jedi.

Conflict.

As the last remnants of the resistance run out of fuel, star destroyers who can track them through hyperspace pick them off one by one, and after most of their senior leadership is suddenly wiped out by Kylo Ren (Adam Driver), passionate headstrong and defensive rebels bitterly dispute their remaining options.

Lacking the requisite rank to command, Poe Dameron (Oscar Isaac) improvises plan B, which an embarrassed Finn (John Boyega) puts into action, along with the aid of dedicated worker Rose Tico (Kelly Marie Tran).

Meanwhile, Rey (Daisy Ridley) and Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill) become better acquainted as her innocent forceful magnetism awakens hope in his forlorn Jedi consciousness.

Kylo Ren and Supreme Leader Snoke (Andy Serkis) seek to drive them apart however, to further delay the resurgence of the Jedi, and strengthen their sadistic stranglehold on the galaxy.

That's the bare bones, but I don't want to give too much away, nothing too out of the ordinary, I'd say, it's more of a matter of how it's held together.

Comedically.

Astronomically.

General Hux (Domhnall Gleeson) of all characters, looking much more pale and sickly, taking the brunt of the insults, he battles wits early on with Dameron, but if you think of their dialogue extranarratively, it's as if Johnson is brilliantly laying down his gambit, his new direction, his original take on Star Wars, his embrace of lighthearted extreme space tragedy.

Muck like Captain America: Civil War's bold mention of The Empire Strikes Back, The Last Jedi's uncharacteristic unprecedented Star Warsian ridiculousness pays off as nimble youthful energy, and Hamill, and Chewbacca (Joonas Suotamo), Chewbacca doesn't show up in spellcheck, and Leia Organa (Carrie Fisher), and Laura Dern (Vice Admiral Holdo)(Dern is super impressive), spontaneously and playfully redefine rebellious agency.

Apart from Rey and Finn, I wasn't that impressed with the new cast in The Force Awakens, but as Johnson's lighthearted humanistic fallible yet decisive characters joyfully play their roles with competent agile abandon, in situations wherein which there is no clear and precise plan of action, it's as if his direction creates a loving caring nurturing self-sacrificing bold aesthetic that's lucidly transmitted through every innocent yet volatile melodic aspect.

It's a risk, embracing the lighthearted so firmly in such a solemn franchise, but it works well, incredibly well, no doubt a byproduct of having the legendary Mark Hamill so close at hand, and, possibly, red bull, could this be the crowning achievement of today's youth's sober obsession with red bull?

It's like they know when to be funny, when to be furious, when to be desperate, grateful, condemnatory, sad, ruthless, gracious, assertive, feeble.

Abused animals are set free.

Plutocratic weapons dealers castigated.

Vegetarianism presented as a conscientious choice.

Loving kindness shown towards animals leads survivors towards light.

Without being preachy or sanctimonious.

Just short random bursts well-threaded into the action.

It's not all cute and cuddly, the mischievous substance is backed by unyielding pressure, the entire film apart from the interactions on Luke's far away island is one massive extended fight scene, coming in at 152 chaotic minutes, a sustained accelerated orgasmic orchestration, that seems like it was just takin' a walk in the woods, or considering what to do on a long weekend.

New character DJ's (Benicio Del Toro) embrace of moralistic relativism left me puzzled.

You'd have to be a huge piece of shit to betray the resistance like that.

He's right that both sides purchase weapons from arms dealers and use them to pursue alternative ethicopolitical visions.

But he's wrong to have not chosen a side during a real conflict with physical casualties mounting by the minute, one group notably less oppressive than the other.

When shit hits the fan, when a Hitler decides he wants to conquer Europe, or the president of the United States starts directly supporting misogynists and white supremacists, or the right to unionize is threatened politically, when extremes govern, then moralistic relativism takes a back seat to action, and you fight them, with mind, body, and spirit, plain and simple.

Don't know what to make of Maz Kanata's (Lupita Nyong'o) labour dispute. If her employees are comin' at her that hard, she must be utilizing antiquated labour policies.

Too much praise perhaps, but I haven't really loved a new Star Wars film since I was 7.

It worked for me.

Big time.

Spoiler: I was glad they recognized there could never be a last Jedi.

The Jedi might take on a new name if future Jedi don't understand that the powers they possess were once referred to as Jedi powers.

They'd still be Jedi, however, or at least gifted individuals in tune with whatever word they use to characterize the force.

The universe would never stop producing them.

Although alarming build-ups of plastics could prevent people from breeding which could lead to even less Jedi, which would be a very small number indeed.

Kylo Ren the death eater, Rey, born of non-magical parents.

There's a Harry Potteresque magic to The Last Jedi.

Culturally conjuring.

Le Pacte des anges

Emancipating encounter, alternative exemplars of cyclically violent circumstances serendipitously clashing in conversations clipped enraged, experiential gruel fuelling uncaged frustrations ala coerced skittish getaway, recklessly bold, blends young, old, unscolded harsh penalties discussed, erupting, penitential precarious predicament, absolving on the run, conscience (quaint) in crucible, materialized beyond the grave, ironic peaceful relations, past lives sunlit shade.

Fates or fortunes fittingly exfoliating to strive lost in longing together for a few.

Mourning steeped in bitters.

Total feminine absence.

Stark cruel loneliness momentarily fades in Richard Angers's Le Pacte des anges, as a man's anger comes back to poetically assault him, surreal justice mischievously at play, a chance for redemption desperately diagnosing rigour, labour, pith, intent, ubiquitous laments, for regenerative heartache.

Grim and bleak origins gradually building towards something beyond destitute survival, materialism buckling under imaginative pressures which environmentally enliven a soul left for dead.

Ungulated indents.

Candlelit coyote.

It's a great film which tenderly examines impoverished spirits to enlighten lively reckonings with fleeting thermal grace.

The accidental and the predestined metaphorically aligning to shelter abstract thought, generations abashed to rebalance conceptions, dialogues taut and trending, traversing wild uncertainties.

Moose really are beautiful when they're dashing through the woods.

It looks like they might collapse with each outstretched hoof, but they know exactly where they're going and precisely where they've been.

I almost fell down the stairs today.

Not really.

Could of though, I suppose.

Smile.

American Pastoral

There are a lot of businesses out there with a socially constructive conscious, owners and workers labouring together as the decades pass to maintain a comfortable undiscriminatory atmosphere that is profitable for everyone involved.

Stereotyping every business as one which voraciously exploits workers is as shortsighted as dismissing a race or ethnicity based upon ridiculous fears that have no logical foundation.

If your country has a level playing field, equal opportunity for its citizens, available jobs, and workers and employers seeking social justice together, democracy can flourish, and health and well-being can intelligently prosper.

Communal affluence resulting from sure and steady productive will isn't some lofty unattainable goal to be cynically dismissed, American Pastoral familially examining this point to nurture its resiliency, its tenacity, even if it doesn't depict activists in the most flattering way.

I've never met activists like the ones in this film but perhaps they're out there.

Business owner Swede Levov (Ewan McGregor) does have a social conscious, is concerned about his multiracial workforce, and legitimately cares about their continuing prosperity, the kind of manager who constructively listens while making decisions.

His daughter rebels however, taking the side of the impoverished but taking things too far.

There's a stark difference between civil disobedience and terrorism and if your activist group doesn't understand this distinction it's best to forthrightly abandon them.

Merry Levov (Dakota Fanning) doesn't abandon them and her loving supportive network is crushed by her actions, too much emotion without enough thought, she had the opportunity to make the same difference her father had, had she been willing to listen to alternative points of view, rather than violently enraging people who perhaps would have listened.

American Pastoral isn't the greatest film but it does give a voice to the socially constructive aspect of responsible levelheaded capitalistic engagement that is often overlooked in mainstream cinema (with perhaps the worst casting of a domestic couple ever).

Creating a legit business that enables your family and your workforce to live comfortable lives is a beautiful thing, a wonderful thing, a democratic thing.

And who really knows what Trump will do.

He seems unpredictable and wild and vindictive but that could have just been a strategy he used to win votes, an odd strategy but one that worked alongside his hopes to bring prosperity back to America.

A lot of people are worried about how his irritable nature will diplomatically translate but all he really has to do to prove many of his critics wrong is sit back and be statespersonlike, listen to advisers when making decisions, and act prudently without flying off the handle.

That's not that difficult to do.

Especially if he isn't constantly provoked.

On the plus side he doesn't really owe anyone anything besides the people who voted him in. A lot of Republicans seem to hate him as much as the Democrats, he's insulted many, many big players on both sides, and doesn't seem bound by political dogma, at all. He doesn't have to scratch backs with paybacks and bivouacs. He has a blank slate and could really try to improve the lives of many impoverished Americans in a best case scenario.

He's the classic outsider, the stranger, the dark horse.

I don't know how else to look at it.

He may not sign the TPP.

He might genuinely care about finding good jobs for hardworking people.

I don't think stranger things have happened.

But maybe they will.

Into the unknown.

I'm hoping he shocks everyone by being boring.

Could have all been part of his plan.

Craziness.

*Did the Republicans create the anti-Republican Republican candidate to win back the Whitehouse? I wonder.

Hell or High Water

Economic perfidy harvests Grapes of Wrath in David Mackenzie's Hell or High Water, a strikingly cold yet tender look at Texan socioeconomics.

Enchiladas.

Like films that portray Mexico as something other than a violent haven for international drug trafficking, Hell or High Water presents an alternative Texan portrait that cuts through stereotypes and humanistically offers a compelling down-to-earth confrontation.

It could have been a typical cops and robbers stomp but as brothers Toby (Chris Pine) and Tanner Howard (Ben Foster) hold-up banks for small untraceable sums to pay off a scandalous debt, and lawpersons Marcus Hamilton (Jeff Bridges) and Alberto Parker (Gil Birmingham) track them, the situations both pairs face add vital brazen relatable characteristics, multilaterally bustin' through the line, with non-negotiable cranked ethical consequences.

The awestrike.

Comanche.

What don't you want?

Inflamed ranching.

Don't rob a goddamn bank in our town.

The brothers forge a classic younger introverted older extroverted tandem, the introvert planning their activities, the extro ensuring they're executed.

Law and order is applied by a traditional pairing as well, the more experienced wiser officer consistently outwitting his go-getting partner, but Alberto is Aboriginal and has several thoughtful points to eventually shoot back regarding the ironic Indigenous state of impoverished regular Joe Americans.

Their relationship investigates the controversial nature of racist remarks exchanged between friendly co-workers.

Marcus consistently makes light of Alberto's Aboriginal heritage, and you can see that Alberto's pissed, but as time passes you also see that Marcus genuinely cares for him, especially when he starts to fight back, that Marcus isn't a heartless crude bigot, rather, he's an intelligent man who just expresses himself callously from time to time to controversially yet shortsightedly lighten the mood.

It's off-the-record professional reality.

Marcus insults Alberto because he doesn't fight back to get him to fight back because they live in a culture where many exchange insults rather than pleasantries without frequently chaotically bloodbathing (fighting back with superiors can still often lead to penalties if they can dish it but can't take it).

There's working to change cultural codes, and having to deal with them in order to eventually change them.

If you can't get into a position of authority where you have the power to instigate such changes by example, and if the people currently occupying such positions ain't changin' jackfuck, nothing's going to change, you have to frustratingly deal at points, or wait for them to die, even if it's conscientiously revolting.

Remember the distinction in the film though, Marcus is highly intelligent, does care, and is friends with Alberto.

He's not establishing death camps or refusing to hire specific ethnicities or races.

When racist or ethnocentric remarks are uttered they do often come from a spiteful place, and telling the difference between a Marcus and a Hitler isn't always so easy to do.

Hell or High Water isn't as cheesy as all this, it's wild and bold and bitchin' and swift, blustering as it caresses, surgically diagnosing endemic cultural ailments.

It's like an affluent way of life disappeared and was replaced with sweet fuck all.

Toby still lays low in the end after giving his kids the miraculous golden ticket.

Self-sacrificing.

May have been hasty in writing that Hell or High Water cuts through Texan stereotypes.

Perhaps stating that it takes those stereotypes and situates them within concrete contexts to narratively theorize why they exist and where they come from makes more sense.

Envisioned facts, fictional justification.

Honesty.

Excellent film.

Cinematographer Giles Nuttgens has an eye for natural beauty.

Deep.

Aloft

Isolated helpless superstitious promise, the only hope for a mother's incurable child resting in the hands of a weathered witch doctor, desperation, the unknown, an attempt to reach into wild undiscovered mystic knowledge potentially hosting scientific truth/s, cures, poetic miracles, gifts, afflictions, a reliance upon the yet to be explained medical hardware built into environmental consciousnesses, humanistic crucibles, penicillin in a beam of light, tactile chemotherapy, the mother refuses to believe only to find she has what it takes, tragedy tearing her family apart, a reluctant, crippling, emotional commitment.

To belief.

Trust.

The event's shocks leave her other son permanently withdrawn, difficult but stable, cultivating an archaic art.

The consequences of a devastating decision lay waiting North of 60, forlorn forgiveness, buried beneath the ice.

It's an incredibly dark film, Claudia Llosa's Aloft.

Well done though.

A depressing desperate joyless aesthetic meticulously matriculated like the resin of pure hopelessness.

Not very cheery.

Well acted, Jennifer Connelly (Nana Kunning) and Cillian Murphy (Ivan) given more room to manoeuvre than I'm accustomed to seeing, not that I've seen all their films.

Well structured.

It challenges you to believe or condemn, take a side, consider, which is always a huge risk, commendable in its execution.

I don't deny the existence of miracles, things that can't be explained.

I do believe they can't be explained because our knowledge still lacks the means to comprehend them however.

It may, always.

Trying to intuitively reproduce them is a sketchy calling.

They can't be explained.

That's why they're so fascinating.

Motivating.

The Homesman

The callous and the cavalier, upstanding non-traditional direct and driven, courage, at home, with faith in the Lord, Mary Bee Cuddy (Hilary Swank) accepts a challenge, a calling, to save the souls of three hopeless wives, whom stark privation has psychologically deranged, longing for bygone days, the future, The Homesman's depiction of frontier life generally lacks the overdone resilience of pioneering spirits, brutal realities aggregating impoverished still born dreams like despondent cynical destitute waves of bustling bitter contempt, Cuddy stands out, having endured and overcome social and natural hardships, strength, vision, fortitude, the product of her religious necessity, assignments, iron clad dues.

She seeks a man.

And discovers one.

He tragically arrives, windswept and woebegone, worldly and weathered thick and thin wits having left him in need of assistance, yet capable of repaying a debt, still too in/transigent to lay back and cuddle, too independent, too mad.

A team.

They forge a team and set out across the prairie to do the Lord's work, his knowledge pertinent and bound, still too mired in misfortune, to recognize eternal signs of beauty.

It's a lesson in harsh patriarchal limits ignoring sound opportunities based on preconditioned ideas the absurdities of which are sorrowfully conceptualized.

No matter what the age, no matter what the station.

Sadness.

Loneliness.

There is redemption in excess which only exacerbates the age.

Time is built into the script like cold hearted bone.

Bleak but well done accept for the editing at points and the occasional scene which could have used a few more takes.

Nice to see Barry Corbin (Buster Shaver).