Pickup on South Street

My decision to watch another Samuel Fuller film last week accidentally led me to unfiltered cold war propaganda, wherein which informant and criminal alike dislike communism and when asked to explain why, bluntly state, "we just do".

Pickup on South Street doesn't share many reasons to justify its indiscreet candour, it just keeps returning to a shack by the ocean where a pickpocket's hidden secret microfilm and beer (Richard Widmark as Skip McCoy).

If he's caught breaking the law once again it's off to prison for the rest of his life, but he still can't think of anything better to do, so he commits crimes then entertains the police.

They're none too fond of his tactics and have even been suspended for related frank outbursts, the audacious confidence the unrestrained vigour driving them past stock predictable punishments.

They don't explain what the microfilm depicts but it's plain and clear the communists want it, but the pursuing agent doesn't anticipate his seductive love interest falling for McCoy (Jean Peters as Candy).

It's utterly ridiculous spy drama resoundingly critical of argument and thought, just bellicose guttural vindications of shortsighted impulse inanimate standing.

Not that the communists also didn't employ reckless stereotypical reckoning, but when capitalist realms saw an influx of unions there was much more equality less crime and strife (see The Spirit Level: Why Equality is Better for Everyone and the 1980s).

If the two ideologies vigorously balance their stern opposition through democratic means, they can constructively influence one another by forging compromises and embracing diplomacy (not on contemporary television).

A strong left attempts to ensure the reasonable distribution of goods to the curious many, who in turn respond with less crime and corruption since they don't have to struggle to find basic needs.

If the strong left is clever and thinks to the future it strives to ensure the businesses they work for thrive, to facilitate perennial financial sustainability with as much dependability as can be hoped for in a state of flux.

For proof of a left wing country that looks to the future in the capitalist world, look no farther than resolute Norway and its 16 Olympic Gold Medals.

I've wondered how such a tiny nation could so resiliently dominate the Winter Olympics, and I've concluded that the oil wealth it distributes far and wide means everyone can afford to ski and take lessons.

By enabling the majority of its population to take part in cherished winter pastimes, skiing in Norway is like soccer in Brazil, it's a brilliant way to distribute your wealth.

Eliminating the left from your culture and letting despots slowly take absolute control for decades, may leave your country in ruin, if you decide to take on the rest of the world (it's a common shortcoming of dictators).

Trudeau may be somewhat of a fool at times but he's no despot, no Putin, no Hitler.

Give me leaders like him who love all peoples every day at any moment (and hopefully hate the STASI).

Over the narrow-minded jingoistic alternative.

Driven

A greedy pilot hits hard times after the FBI catches him transporting drugs, during a trip where he also visits Disney World with his family, dissolute rupture, grievous error (Jason Sudeikis as Jim Hoffman). 

He agrees to become an informant rather than spend 30 years in the can, and he's set up with a house in the suburbs with a modest income to keep up appearances.

With nothing major immediately materializing he has time to relax and socialize, meeting John DeLorean (Lee Pace) of all people, the two strike up a laidback friendship.

DeLorean's trying to find a way to create and manufacture a unique car, which harnesses years of hands-on experience, in a smooth flowing incomparable ride.

But it's a rather complicated affair involving manifold intricate parts, how to build it, where to build it, how to market it, while still maintaining control of his company.

Hoffman's advice proves fertile and the project sees mechanistic germination, and although there are impassioned critiques, forward motion is swiftly accelerated.

Jim and his wife (Judy Greer as Ellen Hoffman) enjoy their new life attending parties without having to work, but the FBI hasn't forgotten their commitment to engage in duplicitous sincere snitching.

As problems abound for DeLorean it becomes apparent he needs 30 million.

Which Hoffman's drug trafficking contact (Michael Cudlitz as Morgan Hetrick) can provide.

If he's willing to boldly risk everything.

Insights into a world I've never understood in terms of practical realization, lucrative ideas productively entwined with the design for commodities people actually want.

I like driving cars they're convenient but I've never really wanted to own one, bus métro and kayak so much less of a bother, not to mention simply strolling around.

It seems like if there's money to be made there are many better ways to acquire it within the law, that don't engender latent paranoia in everything you do afterwards throughout the day.

And problematize flourishing friendships as they do for Mr. Hoffman in Driven, as he struggles with competing loyalties ethically conflicting with frenzied comeuppance.

A cool film nevertheless directly interrogating high stakes happenstance, still somewhat suave considering its blunt extolled intermittent playful hi-jinx.

Perhaps I'll own a vehicle some day, I'm hoping green alternatives are much cheaper (and faster) by the time that happens.

Don't know if I'll drive it that often.

Although it'd be nice to hit the open road.