Papicha

No culture holds a monopoly on dreams, and imagination flourishes partout.

The independent creative soul seeking expression in Papicha, hopes to hold a fashion show to entertain family and friends.

It sounds harmless, exciting even, the chance for blossoming ideas to vibrantly echo, encouraging innovation in a fluidic field, alternative takes celebrating life.

Papicha's (Lyna Khoudri) friends are supportive and helpful as she gathers materials and steadily creates, her unique approach to her cherished surroundings generating catchy sartorial yields.

Her school is hesitant to host the event due to rigid communal concerns, but spirited protests and resilient complaints eventually attain freeform prosperity.

If it were as simple as all that a happy tale would have no doubt been told, chronicling the trials of a determined artist as she vigorously strives and creates, ideas liberated in context under examination before emerging as works of art, perhaps a rival may have produced organic stress?, without seeking to spoil the show.

Does the suppression of diversity and alternatives not lead to the unconscious promotion of anguish, as there are no outlets for the maintenance of spirits who don't fit within specific contexts?

Does the encouragement of a modest spark of independence not lead to more thrilling variety, or at least much wider choice in terms of goods and services, for a culture's commercial life?

With a wider variety of goods and services (many of which are hopefully green one day) isn't an unconscious spirit of fun sustained, at least outside work's rigorous domain wherein which focus breeds success?

And if there are a wide variety of goods and services readily available to choose from, do people not want to succeed at work as well?, for greater working success may lead to higher incomes, with more money to spend on compelling variety.

I used to make lists of items to purchase on the completion of demanding contracts, and they helped me to focus and work as they facilitated growth potential.

How does a culture change and grow if youth aren't encouraged to creatively apply themselves, if there aren't outlets wherein which they can share and potentially generate new thought provoking synergies?

A thriving middle-class creates job opportunities and a spirited thrill for life, the resultant cultural diversity as baffling as it is compelling.

Papicha has an idea and she adamantly pursues it, perhaps recklessly considering her culture's extremes, but her determined pursuit still celebrates creative freedom, the unbridled enthusiasm for which can't be denied, a brave artist refusing to back down, diversity facilitating life.

Phantom Thread

A life meticulously lived according to exacting criteria, quotidian asseverations infused with unacknowledged ritualistic admiration, everyone within his artistic sphere delicately catering to these blessed immutable prescriptions, his childish fastidious sophistication ethereally incarnating elegant cherished widely sought after constellations, dresses, among which starstruck architectures and promulgations and orchestrations and voyages are covetously imagined by both fiancée and unknown suitor, accolades, repute, and standing cultivating a dangerous self-worth carefully checked by his adoring sister, discipline jarring the uninitiated, romantic interests unable to penetrate exclusive resolve.

For a lengthy period of time.

While resting in the country, he meets and falls for a girl of a different kind, one less prone to statically accepting the intricate rules and regulations that permeate every aspect of his art, a beautiful freespirited contradictory ingenue, less in awe of his brilliance than infuriated by his ingratitude.

How does one establish themselves as a lasting integral prominent feature within his unchanging excessively refined obsessions?

Impassion the persnickety?

Without impacting his work?

Phantom Thread illuminates a haunting patience rarely seduced by American cinema.

In possession of an aesthetic often found in great European films, it's as if Paul Thomas Anderson is determined young Alma (Vicky Krieps), and Reynolds Woodcock (Daniel Day-Lewis) unimpressionable Eurocentric film critics.

As if the purest imagination is that which never takes part but always considers what would happen if it did, yet doesn't lambaste others for stepping forward, and then one day finds itself basking in the sauntering wake of a highly strung affected talented unabashed American manifestation, a model of its own creation, I wonder how Phantom Thread's being received in Germany, France, Spain, or the Netherlands, is it embracing applause due to its inherent sensitivities, or consternation regarding its atypical innocence?

How many graceful subtle provocative American films are there which examine the eccentricities of someone without any athletic aspirations, literally or figuratively, argumentatively?

Furtively enveloping strife bespoken?

Unhesitant concerning aspirations?

Indicative of early Winter.

Zoolander 2

Lost in the wilderness, hard-earned accomplishments reduced to ash, ever evolving fashionable escapades firmly embedding debilitating doubts, two men once experimentalizing their flair with unconcerned immaculate retention cast out to cower shamefully in oblivion, suddenly once again required to indubitably vanquish the wicked, a sultry almost swimsuit model guiding their investigations, into the deaths of the innocently unfathomable, extracurricular intricacies, defiantly orchestrated by a fragile bested foe.

Derek Zoolander (Ben Stiller) and Hansel (Owen Wilson) must return to the limelight to reassert their exploratory finesse, for a criminal mastermind has targeted the world's most good looking people to fulfill a prophecy contraceptional in its cunning.

Shenanigans and blundering complicate their inquiries yet naivety and credulity reward their perseverance.

Derek's son Derek Jr. (Cyrus Arnold) must play a primary role, as it becomes apparent, that he may be the chosen one.

Exglamatory.

Providing laughs and hilarious situations with endearing supporting characters and a profound respect for its origins, Zoolander 2 succeeds at extending the franchise, but doesn't eclipse its starlit predecessor.

It terms of ridiculousness, it does surpass the original with ludicrous lubricants and transitional rebounds, but, even though it's a lot of fun to see the old characters back at it once again, mixing with new additions who socialistically and religiously spice things up, I wasn't as captivated as I was with Dumb and Dumber To, Anchorman 2, or 22 Jump Street, although I did prefer it to Hot Tub Time Machine 2, Airplane II, Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me, The Hangover Part II, and Ghostbusters II.

I loved how it validated Hansel and Derek's professional competencies and juxtaposed them with the errors they sometimes make taking care of real world demands, like cloistered vestals suddenly fending for themselves.

Hansel and Derek's dynamic reminded me of that cultivated between Ricky and Julian in Trailer Park Boys.

Could there possibly be a Trailer Park Boys/Zoolander crossover shot in Montréal, one of North America's most beautiful cities, with Mugatu (Will Ferrell) teaming up with the one and only Xavier Dolan to kidnap Céline Dion and antiquate Cirque du Soleil?

I'm thinking, best idea, in the history of ever.

Ever.

Ever . . .

L'amour fou

Examining the life and times of fashion designer Yves Saint-Laurent, Pierre Thoretton's L'amour fou lucidly injects a sober biographical sketch with an informative alluring amorous solution.

Within we discover a prolific artist prone to depression and substance abuse whose innovative vision redefined and enabled various voices. An avid art collector, he acquired a vast array of works over the years whose particular features were loosely situated within the specific temporal coordinates of a constantly transforming personalized aesthetic.

Much like Charles Swann.

Primarily framed by the accounts of lifelong partner Pierre Bergé, St. Laurent's trajectory is characterized by brilliance, success, and mental illness. Their relationship endures as Yves creates and Bergé manages, a stable juxtaposition of art and commerce which survives their passion's deterioration.

What Saint-Laurent achieved throughout his lifetime is remarkable, resulting from the ways in which he consistently reinvented himself while continuing to cultivate his insight. The film could have elaborated to a greater degree on the latter part of his engagement, his personal life and idiosyncrasies enjoying more screen time throughout. He's often portrayed as an undeniable genius whose only destabilizing lesions were self-inflicted. There must have been more controversy associated with his pursuits, controversy that could have been focused on more acutely than Bergé's role in his life story.

But the film's about crazy love, and Bergé's role in Saint-Laurent's success was paramount. L'amour fou only presents a brief introduction to their union, and although this introduction provides a significant amount of anecdotal refreshment, it principally serves to encourage further investigations.

Which isn't so bad.

The Green Hornet

Can a spoiled good-natured exceedingly wealthy party animal suddenly turn his life around and combat the forces of evil with unerring alacrity and formidable strength? Definitely not without the help of his ingenious barista, and within Michel Gondry's The Green Hornet this is sort of what happens, although the exploits of Britt Reid (Seth Rogan) and Kato (Jay Chou) do not proceed as smoothly as aforementioned. It's a film more about cool gadgets, sophomoric dialogue, and stunning automobiles than battling bad guys and dispensing justice, a different sort of super hero film, if you can call it that, where the villain (Chudnofsky [Christoph Waltz]) has the best lines and the most integrity (ala Frank Booth [note the gas mask]), and the hero is a jealous, ineffectual schmuck (your reaction to Chudnofsky's identity crisis could make or break the film for you [I only saw one Green Hornet ad showcasing Chudnofsky and I'm not surprised; the jokes only work well in context]). A lot of superheroes lack the confidence to engage in superheroic acts until that special moment when they realize they've possessed what it takes to superhero all along. In The Green Hornet, Reid has the confidence to engage in superheroic acts and it's not until that special moment where he realizes he's a douche bag, one who seriously needs his support network, that he discovers the necessary skills. The film's well written insofar as it develops intriguing ingenuous and devious characters full of frustration and weakness who are relatable and comedically tragic and places them within off-beat game-changing big-picture situations (Reid equals fantasy, Kato, reality). The structure's somewhat suspect however inasmuch as more screen time is spent exploring the friendships/relationships between Reid, Kato, and Lenore Case (Cameron Diaz) than developing legitimate underground crime fighters (this would have worked more successfully in a graphic novel). Nonetheless, they do fight crime, and near the end we watch as a socially-conscious American floats through the sky seated beside a brilliant Chinese self-made-person, their livelihood sustained by an incisive woman, existential yet practical as they have made a difference.

Mehopes this image bears fruit in the 21st Century.