Fotbal Infinit (Infinite Football)

Sometimes you savour the sweet conversation effortlessly generated by bizarro dreams. 

The improbability encourages rash exploration the ridiculousness of which augments middle-age.

Or any free-spirited time period wherein which dreams distract distinctly, and sweet nothings or crafty fantasies conjure wayward cogent reckonings.

Everything'd be too serious otherwise, there would be no compassionate touch, assuming the difference between reason and absurdity still maintained a coherent balance.

An unacknowledged coherent balance, the irregularities of sincerest trust, cultivated through fleeting foundations, or mutually presumed ill-favour.

In conversation.

There's an art to this kind of conversation which preserves imaginative youth, and myriad compelling narratives have theoretically been spawned thereafter (Ferris Bueller's, Strange Brew . . . ).

Fotbal Infinit (Infinite Football) examines a champion who's taken things way too far, so caught up in his gripping imagination that he's lost sight of the inherent humour.

It seems like he's taking his idea seriously, far beyond rational realistic applications, but he may just be humorously distressed, and there doesn't seem to be much else to talk about.

An injury suffered in his youth led him to stop playing soccer/football, and his dreams of moving to the U.S. were forgotten after his country joined the EU.

Expecting to find excitement in the years following, he instead wound up in a permanent position lacking bureaucratic fluidity.

As the years past his thrilling fantasy became much more appealing than his daily routine, and began to permeate every discussion integrated into his private life.

Does he take things too far in his reckonings and turn every conversation into an awkward exchange, or is there just nothing else left to talk about, and has he found expeditious refrain?

He finds ways to apply his dream to each and every social interaction, it's a remarkable feat of maladroit dynamism, that revels in novel disjunction. 

I'm not sure if he notices the difference between dream and reality any longer, but he's found a way to spice up his life that's at least individualistically invigorating.

What reality's in fact the most ludicrous is perhaps a pertinent question?

Beyond the public sphere.

Quizzical misgivings.

Discursive implosion. 

Hochelaga, Terre des Âmes (Hochelaga, Land of Souls)

In the 13th Century, a vicious battle having claimed the lives of many young men, a wise First Nations Prophet (Raoul Max Trujillo) chants out through the ages, pleading for peace to flourish eternal within his realm, his words planted on the winds with fertile simplicity, harvesting paradise in war torn isolation.

Who could have predicted what would happen in the following centuries, that another people would come and carve an alternative civilization out of the wilderness, and then another would land and attempt to transform it to their liking, and then others would appear and industriously cultivate traditions of their own, united by the prosperity of a distinct French culture, its multidisciplinary environment, adventurously preordained?

The island of Hochelaga slowly transformed into a metropolis, several of its epochs colourfully brought to life in François Girard's Hochelaga, Terre des Âmes (Land of Souls), sport having replaced destructive battles long passed, an incomparable nightlife spiritually enlivening working days, respect for nature thankfully lambasting fracked revenues and nuclear energy, a versatile collective creatively redefining culture on a mesmerizing weekly basis, orchestrated and executed, with transcendental evanescence.

Terre des Âmes follows a young First Nations archaeologist as he presents his thesis before a gathering of academics, a thesis based upon discoveries made at Percival Molson Memorial Stadium, after a sinkhole opened up during a feisty Redmen's game.

The sinkhole gave Baptiste Asigny (Samian) the opportunity to excavate the field, and the discoveries he made led him to reasonably piece together a convincing historical narrative covering Cartier's discovery of the island, missionary/fur trading clashes in New France, and the Patriot Rebellion of 1837, while also evidencing dynamic First Nations settlements on the island, the film complete with intriguing theoretical associated dramatizations of the periods.

If you find Canadian history somewhat boring, try reading books focused primarily on Québec. If you're at an age where the study of history is becoming more interesting (around 28 for me), you may thoroughly enjoy reading them as much as I do.

I've obviously wondered how long bears survived on the island after its population exploded, and I've never been able to find the date when they disappeared in the books I've read, which weren't about wildlife, but I imagine it was in the late 19th Century or the early 20th, fox, skunks, raccoons, groundhogs, opossums, coyotes, and squirrels still living on the island.

Even though I find Montréal's current composition fascinating, my favourite images from Terre des Âmes show what it may have looked like when it was still predominantly forested, indistinguishable from the massive mainland forests surrounding it, so many centuries ago.

Do some landscapes have a spiritual significance similar to that of Percival Molson Memorial Stadium as it's presented in Terre des Âmes, a kind of undetectable mass accumulation of positive spiritual energies which generate sincere subconscious synergies, like a hub or a server?

Can't answer that question myself.

I've always loved the idea though, since reading about it in Morgan Llywelyn's Druids, and I absolutely loved what Terre des Âmes does with it, how it beautifully unites Montréal's history in a thought provoking contemporary hypothesis, which speaks to the best of what Québecois culture has to offer, has always offered, and will continue to offer.

All down the line.

*With Siân Phillips (Sarah Walker) and Linus Roache (Colonel Philip Thomas).

22 Jump Street

Unrepentantly unashamed of its recycled ripple effect, yet excelling where Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me did not, 22 Jump Street revisits 21 Jump Street's plot, counting on the strength of its reflexes to convincingly entertain, Hill (Schmidt) and Tatum (Jenko) demonstrating that they've still got it, poetry, football, college, weak on plot but undeniably hilarious, their humouristic confidence reliably overpowering the need to expand, not that they don't bromantically exemplify, how to sustain a flexible working partnership.

The bromance, introduced at the outset with a comparative illustration of both yin, and yang, holds the film together, breaking away to adhesively unite, strategizing football connections in the meantime, relationships, parenting, age.

Giving minor characters from the first film a larger role in the second can work, and it works well in 22 Jump Street, Ice Cube (Captain Dickson) furiously losing it at one point, Tatum's additions to the motif, a side-splitting shining moment.

Hill's best scene comes in the form of an improv slam poetry reaction.

I'm wondering if they wrote his poem beforehand, in which case he should be applauded for his ability to believably pretend to be improving, or, in the case that he did improv his poem, he should be seriously applauded for delivering some successful semantic syllabic breakdowns, immediate and inferential, confident and spry.

Either way, he makes a bold fashion statement.

Is 22 Jump Street a left wing film?

The yin seems to be represented by the more sensitive thoughtful Schmidt, Jenko representing the yang.

But equating sensitivity with the left and aggression with the right is somewhat stereotypical, an organized left often functioning highly combatively, the right seeming quite timid when living outside its comfort zone for extended periods.

What I've just described somewhat reflects Jenko's role in the film, as he is quite timid when interacting with the more intellectually gifted Schmidt, yet, when it comes to applying what he's learned in his human sexuality course, he isn't afraid to defend groups traditionally ignored by the right, making a great point about the problems associated with silence, such actions breaking him away from his social comfort zone, which I would be guilty of examining stereotypically if I thought it didn't support Jenko's actions, it doesn't come up but Jenko does start searching for something more, what he's missing being the fire enflamed through his arguments with Schmidt, that fire enabling them to cohesively function highly combatively, as long as they remain organized, which they do as time goes by.

The Colleges of the United States of America may wish to explore the issue further.

Having Peter Stormare (The Ghost) complain about how things were better in the 90s was a nice touch.

Has he ever been in a Woody Allen movie?

Libraries are unfairly examined.

It's a funny plot device.

But nothing beats having the physical book in-hand.

The Blind Side

The Blind Side is Republican and therefore problematic. John Lee Hancock's film concerns an extremely rich caucasian Republican family who adopts a traumatized African American youth. Thus, it immediately sets itself up as another narrative where condescending white people are the only saviours of down and out black people who would have amounted to nothing had they been left to the resources of their own community. This dimension functions throughout and cannot be ignored. But at the same time, it is the true story of a remarkably generous big-C Christian family who adopted a troubled youth in order to give them a chance at a better life. The Tuohy's are incredibly hospitable, not condescending, and bend over backwards to accommodate Michael Oher (Quinton Aaron). His past is full of tragedy, his demeanour excessively aloof, and his grades are lacking credibility. But he's really good at football (yeah, I know) and if given the right opportunity might just make the big time.

It's in the bible people!

But seriously, the film's self-reflexive nature is commendable and I truly enjoyed the ways in which John Lee Hancock and Michael Lewis's script poked fun at Republican stereotypes. To make the film acceptable to hard-line Republicans, a woman is given the most prominent role: Leigh Anne Tuohy (Sandra Bullock). This is the same device used by progressive thinkers to break down racial barriers on shows like Star Trek: The Original Series, where it might be okay for a caucasian man to kiss an African American woman, but it's not okay for a black man to kiss a white woman. Bullock gives the performance of a life time and truly shines in humanitarian splendour. Three stand out scenarios: after hiring a Democrat to tutor Michael (Kathy Bates), Sean Tuohy (Tim McGraw) states something like: "who'd have thought we'd have a black son before meeting a Democrat." I found this to be hilarious. It was intelligently situated, perfectly timed, and culturally disruptive, insofar as it points out that Christian Republicans who demonize Democrats without ever having met one (living their lives in isolated communities) (if such persons exist) are perhaps not living up to their open-minded Christian ideals. The Tuohy's assume Michael wants to play football at a university due to his success and support him full-heartedly. But when it occurs to them that perhaps he never wanted to play football period, they apologize and state that they will support him if he decides to pursue another career. Thirdly, the intertextual domain falls apart when Leigh Anne overtly explains the ways in which Munro Leaf's The Story of Ferdinand relates explicitly to Michael. But at the same time, the traumatic moment from Michael's past which continually resurfaces is not elucidated explicitly, an interesting twist of events where the somewhat insignificant detail is pronounced, while the more relevant motif is subdued, Hancock's subtle formal complement to his film's progressive dimension (by reversing the order of things formally, he complements his film's deconstruction of Republican normalities on a subconscious level).

It's difficult to effectively work within stereotyped traditional domains where there is a right and wrong and find ways to progressively and cross-culturally point out potential ideological shortcomings that seem as if they've been generated from within that ideology itself. This is what John Lee Hancock's The Blind Side has done, playfully pointing out the Republican blind side if you will, and for that reason, I found it to be an exceptional film.