O necem jiném (Something Different)

A housewife struggles with a dull routine fully equipped with ceaseless labour, her husband lacking natural empathy as he plays a traditional role.

Her son's a handful and makes things worse as he tries to assist throughout the day, his habitual playful headstrong mischief encouraging disillusion.

Another woman constantly trains to remain the world's preeminent gymnast, her resilient daring in/flexibility haughtily admired by her earnest trainer.

Her life is sheltered and strictly focused driven by determined excellence, lacking holistic variety yet irrefutably established. 

Director Vera Chytilová juxtaposes their lives to examine distraught vigour, each path overflowing with poise but only one rich in reward.

The husband's a piece of work who stubbornly applies unimaginative blueprints, which structure everything to his advantage as he consistently ignores her.

He's having an affair but so is she, she breaks free from the callous bondage.

Her lover rather frustrated.

As she thoroughly disregards him.

Different extremes converge and complement as feminine strength consults, contends, no rest and relaxation, no sympathetic trends.

It seems to me that if you're lucky enough to have someone who supplies you with meals and a tidy pad, you should at least listen and pay attention to them at the end of the working day.

They rigorously do the work for you out of love and devout commitment, is it that hard to engage in conversation or acknowledge the heartfelt effort?

Isn't it important to get to know someone you're spending that much time with, to develop multiple open-ended narratives that creatively transform throughout your life?

They probably love you too which makes conversation so much easier, something that doesn't require earnest effort or careful planning or years of study.

Love isn't something to be dismissed or ignored or taken for granted, shouldn't it be evocatively cultivated through wondrous warmth and passion?

It isn't in O necem jiném (Something Different) and the results are generally bland (not the film itself), a life devoid of pith or colour controversial blasé strands.

Make life a beach just by caring and perhaps something epic will emerge.

Throw on the gear for a feisty dip.

BBQ.

Frolic.

The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension

Do the spaces found within seemingly docile solid materials in fact house inordinate extraterrestrials imprisoned forlorn and ever after?

And have they been transported there by advanced alien beings who curiously monitor life on Earth to ensure the galaxy is not imperilled?

The answers to these questions, like so many others, remain uncertain, for who's to say what inhabits the imperceptible if it indeed cannot be perceived?

Yet science, perennially sleuthing, is undaunted by such perplexities, bold Buckaroo Banzai (Peter Weller) deciphering clues to what may in fact lathe mathematical convention, as he applies piquant planetary particulars to unheard of galactic synergies, his momentum unconsciously driven, by repute, cogito ergo sum.

In so doing he travels across the 8th dimension, within which evil restrictively resides, returning with proof of biological protocol, and visual records of alternative life.

He still makes it to a gig with his supporting band later that evening, where a despondent lovelorn fan (Ellen Barkin as Penny Priddy) makes known her sincere distress.

As rival Emilio Lizardo (John Lithgow) madly reemerges, to join forces with despotic largesse, another group of aliens who seek to free their incarcerated brethren, who lack the knowledge to penetrate the realm themselves, who desperately covet Buckaroo's secret formula, not to mention his chill sporty ride.

But if they get the formula, the friendly aliens will destroy planet Earth to prevent the forces of tyranny from escaping, a high price to pay for unbound innovation, as unsettling as it is battle-scarred.

1984 was a different time, and I can't speak to how well Buckaroo was received then, if it was known for bold hilarity or hapless head shakes, if it prospered, or just slipped aside.

It has a great cast including Weller, Lithgow, Barkin, Christopher Lloyd (John Bigbooté), Jeff Goldblum (New Jersey), Dan Hedaya (John Gomez), Vincent Schiavelli (John O'Connor), Clancy Brown (Rawhide), Matt Clark (The Secretary of Defense), and Jonathan Banks (Lizardo Hospital Guard), but it doesn't do much with their chaotic expertise.

It spoofs how seriously sci-fi takes itself at times and the ludicrous plot is wildly nuanced with brains, but there's too much thought worked into the interstellar shenanigans to let the laughs lackadaisically let loose.

It's like Buckaroo spent more time calculating what it means to be funny rather than just simply telling jokes or presenting foolish situations.

New Jersey is a good example of what I mean here, the cowboy's totally out of place and seems like he should be funny, but he really isn't at all because he doesn't have solid material to work with.

Buckaroo makes science-fiction seem ridiculous, its succeeds at achieving this goal, but it forgets to do so with disarming levity, as Spaceballs did so remarkably well.

But I may be missing comedic points that were more versatile at the time, and I imagine what I didn't find funny was once well-received.

Sometimes cool casts like this wind up in a stinker too.

That still happens.

Not all the time though.