C.H.U.D.

A young couple frolics in frenzy within the heart of New York City, blissfully composed and amorously endowed throughout the harmonious effervescent day (John Heard and Kim Greist). 

A sympathetic individual graciously cares for the forgotten homeless, freely supplying them with soup as they embrace impoverished emancipation (Daniel Stern).

A police officer desperately struggles with the sudden disappearance of his loving wife, who went out to walk the dog one evening and was never heard from again (Christopher Curry and Laure Mattos).

In fact, almost a dozen homeless people have gone missing in recent weeks as well, who spend most of their time underground, their disappearance a heartfelt conundrum.

Upon closer inspection, and in consultation with tight-lipped executives, it becomes apparent that below the streets, toxic waste has been recklessly disposed of.

And that very same toxic waste has unfortunately turned homeless people into monsters, cannibalistic monsters no less, who have been terrorizing the city.

Perhaps somewhat farfetched, yet after watching Todd Hayne's Dark Waters it's not as ludicrous as it sounds, if people are tricking rural property owners into burying toxic chemicals on their land, who knows what other locations they're searching for?

It used to seem bizarre to take something so strange so seriously, but if fewer and fewer people are reading books, doesn't the pedagogical import of nutso films become more profound?

Take anti-vaxxing. 

For some crazy reason an irresponsible movement has arisen which emphatically criticizes mass immunization, perhaps with the alternative goal of reanimating different plagues, or some other diabolical means of population control.

It's clear that the anti-vaxxers don't listen well in school, or for some reason thoroughly mistrust the narrative independently constructed by teachers and scientists.

But perhaps they'll listen to seemingly slapdash cinema which doesn't seem like it's trying to educate, which seems critical of clever book learning and anything which might try to instruct.

With such an impetus in place monster movies take on a much more serious role, and their construction becomes more indubitably paramount in the oddball cultivation of the public sphere.

An amazing book lies in wait within or more suitably a documentary film, or a film which educates by critiquing education, for those opposed to traditional coursework.

The internet has changed things and new solutions must be found.

Who's to say where indeed to find them?

Why not start with cannibalistic mutants?! 😎

The Fisher King

A headstrong shock jock preaches polarities with assertive recourse to immutability, as his dedicated listeners tune in (Jeff Bridges as Jack), in search of tactile calamitous clarity.

But he goes way too far one impassioned evening and bitter criticisms lead to mayhem, as a devout fan takes what he's saying too seriously, and expresses himself with violence thereafter.

Jack may be rather confident and determined but he isn't made of stone, and after hearing about the mass shooting, he's overwhelmed with penitent distress.

Years pass and he's moved into his partner's (Mercedes Ruehl as Anne), working at times in her video rental store, woebegone motionless remorse having destabilized his once strident potency.

He's out and about one befuddled evening where he's drunk too much unfortunately, when some ne-er-do-wells lay into him, having mistaken him for a homeless man.

But homeless people quickly rise to his defence and he outmaneuvers the scurrilous rogues, awakening the next morning in a basement dwelling, accompanied by a fallen school teacher (Robin Williams as Parry).

He soon learns that that very same teacher's respected love interest was outrageously cut down, by the very same disgruntled individual whom he incensed with his improvised vitriol. 

Cosmic forces seeming to be at play he eagerly befriends his troubled saviour, the two forging a dynamic friendship, with mutual convalescence perhaps intuited.

But can Jack save his troubled soul by bringing Parry back from the depths of madness?

Or will traumatic resonance harrowingly consume him, as the shock proves too much to overcome?

Laidback mysticism and hardboiled angst creatively mingle ensemble within, bewildered conscience and integral redemption evocatively articulating the tragic bromance.

But Terry Gilliam isn't solely concerned with the interactions of the two wayward men, for the gals in their lives add so much spice (plus Amanda Plummer as Lydia) that it's well-balanced through fluid cohesivity. 

Magical realism constructively resides within the narrative's hands-on grizzly contagion, a leap of faith inexplicably necessitated to rejuvenate dormant animate spirits. 

The application of truth or utilitarian practicality may have led to a lack of change, for if there had been no sense of guilt, there would have been no need to assail cynicism. 

Even if it isn't practically sound doesn't it make for a more gripping tale, something less banal more out of the ordinary to transcend trusted paramount stability?

In works of literature and film anyways, perhaps not every day at work or in politics.

It's a mistake to categorically deny it.

And so much more boring in the long run. 

*With John de Lancie (TV Executive), David Hyde Pierce (Lou Rosen),  and Michael Jeter (Homeless Cabaret Singer). 

Sans toit ni loi (Vagabond)

Drifting through the French countryside, Mona Bergeron (Sandrine Bonnaire) moves from place to place in search of a comfortable semantic translation. Unhappy working as a secretary, she sets out in search of a boss or a situation to whom/which she can easily relate. Refusing to accept anything else, dire circumstances occasionally present themselves to which she must spontaneously adjust. The acceptance of such adjustments produces a feisty tranquillity as she discovers sundry existential qualifiers from which she creates an ontological work in progress.

Agnès Varda presents Mona's story through a series of flashbacks from the final days of her life. She encounters a colourful cast of characters who offer advice and opportunities while reflecting on that/those presented by her bohemian lifestyle. A random cross-section of French culture is thereby curiously and interrogatively investigated as particularized observations are freely illuminated. Sans toit ni loi (Vagabond) lets its narrative subjectively moralize from multidimensional points of view without offering direct overarching evaluations.

The highs and lows of a transient lifestyle are mediated within as Mona consistently transforms from subject to object while remaining committed to her chosen path.

The film itself is in constant motion as ideas, constructs, and conceptions are tethered, liberated, confined, and released.