Hidalgo

It never really made much difference to me what College or University you went to, or if you learned esoteric details about different branches of knowledge while on the job, what mattered was how enthusiastically you applied yourself to whatever hand you happened to have been dealt, and how you strove for improvement regardless of class or birth, which generally reflects the spirit of the times I grew up in.

Thus, it wouldn't surprise me if Community College students were also making breakthroughs in respective fields, as Frank Hopkins does in Hidalgo, in the competitive sport of horse racing. 

He didn't get his trusted steed from a well-off breeder publicizing coveted lineage, or even from a local stable offering beginners a tempting free ride, instead he chose his trusted mount from a herd of wild mustangs in Oklahoma, whose descendants still freely ride to this day, un jour j'espère les voir.

He gains a world renowned reputation for winning long distance races in the United States, indeed winning an incredible number throughout his lengthy career.

His reputation becomes so enviable that he attracts the attention of Middle-Eastern competitors, who challenge him to the toughest horse race on the planet, a 3,000 mile trek 'cross forbidding deserts.

He's a first class gamer, he courageously responds, with neither question nor concern for personal safety, even after it becomes apparent his life's at risk, and it's not only the elements who seek to hunt him.

He must face some of the finest stallions to have ever been bred in horse racing history, amongst opponents who doubt he will survive one day on his wild unsung beast who lacks proper pedigree.

But as so often happens in the world of sport which usually celebrates talent regardless of rank or birth, Hopkins and Hidalgo really are the best the world's ever seen, and tenaciously win the "Ocean of Fire".

Exceptionally difficult to do and requiring a genuine degree of hard work and sacrifice, but if raised in even a moderately honest political system, if you excel, you should modestly prosper.

Hopkins takes his prize money and doesn't spend it on lavish trinkets, but rather hears that a herd of mustangs is going to be shot, and pays handsomely for them to be released back into the wild (Go Broncos!) 💌

Born of two-cultures and horrified to have witnessed the scurrilous slaughter of unarmed Native peoples, he proceeds honourably as best he can and must be one of the most successful athletes ever.

It'd be cool to see Viggo Mortensen win the Best Actor Oscar some day.

He's had a lot of roles like this one.

Where it seems like he's holding so much back.

*Unlike Captain Fantastic.

Official Secrets

Back to Coventry again and the question of whether or not there are instances where it's in a government's bests interest to mislead the public, in order to cut down on panic and/or mass hysteria.

Letting the Nazis know their enigma codes had been compromised would have likely delayed the end of World War II significantly, but it was still known that Coventry was to be bombed, and with that information hundreds of lives could have been saved.

Seems like you could have kept the information on the down low and simultaneously achieved both objectives, the only serious hindrance being spies, or a lack of knowledge of whom to trust.

Why the ambitious stubbornly think the freewheeling are prone to mass hysterics as opposed to order and discipline (when kept fully informed) is a most unfortunate prejudice, and even though twitter and social media quickly shoot down clandestine pretensions, such pretensions still calculate with austere breadth, exposed hypocrisy notwithstanding.

This period of time has become frighteningly ludicrous inasmuch as clearly exposed political plots move forward regardless of blatant corruption, the character of the people who expose them awaiting ruin, large portions of the public choosing to applaud the plots regardless.

It's like we live in the age where the public is incredibly well informed but large swaths prefer non-traditional sources to orthodox journalism, and as the postmodernists continue to deconstruct sincerity and truth, the charlatans amass fortunes adhering to Bacon's negative instance, and the left's doctrinal relative truth.

An age of sensation, where anyone can run a story online, the irony, and many don't critically evaluate what they're reading, or even care when it's obviously false.

Fake news is like alcoholism, actual fake news, not The New York Times or The Globe and Mail or The Guardian.

You know you shouldn't have another drink, you know the same misfortunes await if you do, but after you have that drink, and deal with those very same misfortunes the next day, the only way to make the repercussions go away is to believe that one more drink won't hurt, or if I keep reading this yahoo some day his or her lies will make sense.

I still spend a lot of time reading traditional news outlets who hire people who function according to a code that upholds honesty and integrity.

Sometimes I think I'm out of touch.

Until I see Sanders beat Trump in the latest poll!

And the Brits stickin' it to Boris Johnson.

I actually saw the poll on Instagram, posted by Team Sanders. The mainstream news isn't that hip to Sanders yet.

Sanders!

If aliens existed and we had definitive proof I'd let the public know. I prefer to see what happens and trust in general reasonability.

If all the data demonstrated that the Earth is warming at an alarming rate, as it does, and something needs to be done to cool things down, I'd let people know and implement policies to reduce greenhouse gas emissions, even if it would take 200 years to feel their effects.

In Official Secrets, true story, Katharine Gun (Keira Knightley) discovers that government officials in Britain are intentionally misleading the public to gain support for the Second Iraq War, and she boldly lets the people know.

Takes a lot of flack in the aftermath.

But totally does what needs to be done.

The film's direct, factually predisposed, but still presents a tale of heroism as noteworthy as it is endearing.

Characters are criticized within for being anti-war, as if such a viewpoint is undesirable.

I always thought it was the other way around.

But I'll never work for the secret service.

Phew.

Could you imagine?

The Hate U Give

When I was really young I never really wanted to leave the house.

It seemed, *as M. T_______ has observed, come to think of it, totally unfair that every weekday I'd be carted off to a centralized hub wherein which I'd have to negotiate terms and conditions with a select group of strangers many of whom were impolite and none too impressed with my habitual timidity.

Having yet to learn that being able to count was frowned upon and that you had to listen to people who were bigger than you, I had a rather tough go of it before settling into an obnoxious yet less beating-prone comedic routine, which was also difficult to grow out of as changing circumstances created new socially acceptable codes of conduct.

But eventually I reached middle-age and found that my desire to impress people outside of work had almost entirely disappeared, and although I didn't shy away from outings or conversation, I cared much less about whether or not I was appealing, catchy, suitable.

Sought after.

The Hate U Give's Starr Carter (Amandla Stenberg) is still in the thick of it though, uploading different psychological applications to fit sundry social situations, still attending school, going to parties, pursuing amorous relations, a student from a modest background attending a solid private school cleverly going with the flow, smoothly fitting in, hyperaware of precisely what not to say, managing rage, desire, curiosity, and confusion, with the adroit composure of a surefire sagelike symphony.

Flexible and highly strung.

She's still a kid though and therefore likes to do things kids like to do, as do her friends and siblings.

But when gun shots ring out at a party attended, she flees with an old companion with whom she once enjoyed playing Harry Potter.

Their youthful ambitions hold no sway after they're pulled over for no reason, however, and Starr's friend Khalil (Algee Smith) is soon dead on the ground after having spontaneously decided to simply comb his hair.

He may have been 17 and had a lot of potential.

How often do I read about events like this in the news?

How many of these tragedies could have been avoided?

Starr suffers extreme shock mixed with helplessness and the film gracefully supports her as systemic injustice generates activist passions.

It's a tight multifaceted narrative that soulfully blends kids playfully trying to live their lives, a hardworking father who's served time for drugs and won't go back (Russell Hornsby as Maverick Carter), a local drug dealer who's worried about exposure (Anthony Mackie as King), a caring mom who supports her daughter's decision (Regina Hall as Lisa Carter), a black cop caught up in the system (Common as Carlos), a supportive privileged boyfriend who's willing to take risks for Starr even though it's a world he doesn't understand (K.J. Apa as Chris), Starr's close school friend who doesn't try to understand (Sabrina Carpenter as Hailey), media reports that don't try to understand, underfunded public schools that can't keep the drugs out, an activist who understands how hard it is to speak out but knows how essential it is to do so (Issa Rae as April Ofrah), a family's local struggle to get by transformed by national attention which is none too appreciated by the thugs, many of whom tried, but could never find anything better to do.

Starr unites these elements and bravely makes tough decisions to help her community.

I loved the film's positive focus, convincingly letting the light shine through so much demotivating darkness.

The light is out there and it is shining brightly.

A lot of people who try to make it big selling drugs wind up in jail.

A lot of people who put in an honest day's work and keep looking forward, building a business or helping others build businesses, can still make good money, and don't have to be scared all the time.

Can enjoy time spent with friends and family.

Chill out a bit even.

Joke around.

Read books and watch movies.

Red Sparrow

Extreme deception bluntly orchestrating maddeningly corrupt initiatives, coldly addressing severe characteristics with the flippant admiration of vanity in bloom.

Emaciated modus operandi, secretively adjusted objectives, flirtatiously plummeting pirouettes, applauding emotionless utilitarianism.

Innate degeneracy opulently upholding volatile foundations meticulously irradiated.

Occupational hazards phantasmagorically posturing with the resigned duplicitous elegance of nouveau riche ostentation, spread so delicately thin that one's senses aspirationally swoon with treacherous wonder.

Dissimulated.

Prevaricated.

If you can figure out what lies beneath a question's seeming innocuous simplicity as it's delivered with clumsy sincerity by someone who has no respect for you, it's easy to lie and give them the answer they expect to hear, the poorly concealed sarcastic nuances of their tone having betrayed their vicious intentions, their misguided readymade conclusion (along with what they intend to do with it), and after providing the answer for which they search which is easy enough to detect, you'll hopefully never hear from them again, calico.

Red Sparrow.

Wherein incomparable poise is wounded then theoretically transformed into a solicitous unimaginative reflection exalting spirited disillusion, commandeered to effortlessly seduce while never questioning executive artifice.

She does seduce effortlessly and you wonder how an undercover operative could have let his guard down so obliviously, but it does save time in a film that's already considerably lengthy.

For good reason.

It patiently follows resourceful Dominika Egorova (Jennifer Lawrence) from career ending catastrophe to harrowing rebirth, accentuating her helplessness piecemeal before considering an alternative only awkwardly presented hitherto, thus enabling multidimensional character development within the strictest confines.

Pigs at the trough beware, Egorova is comin' to get 'cha.

The Americans are generally presented as trustworthy agents while the Russians betray their government with cause, a comment on the price of bearing petty grudges, one disloyal American voraciously bisecting the cultural stereotypes.

Not as intricate as some spy films, but Lawrence's stark brutal portrayal of a coerced fledgling homegrown psychopath still brazenly holding on to her innocence, as accompanied by a feisty Nate Nash (Joel Edgerton), a reserved General Korchnoi (Jeremy Irons), and a fierce Matron (Charlotte Rampling), situated within a clever direct script whose subject matter is uncannily relevant if Icarus and Russia's other international relations woes are interwoven, still helps Red Sparrow stand out, the groundwork for an outstanding sequel having been provocatively laid.

Perfect February release.

Mind-bogglingly coincidental.

Black Panther

A hidden civilization, majestically secluded in death-defying mountainous impeccability, technologically adept environmental symbiosis relying on ancient traditions to guide contemporary initiatives, a brilliantly constructed unparalleled postmodern wonder, Africa's colonial history having left it reasonably wary of the unknown, yet a new Wakandan leader has wisely arisen who is concerned with his community's global reputation, and may break with the past to encourage sustainable growth, generously nurtured, and cultivated worldwide.

His community at large.

Leaders, I should say.

One was abandoned and left to fend for himself in the U.S, the other grew up amongst his culture's elite within which he occupied a leading position.

Not to say the latter's life wasn't also filled with demanding challenges, challenges of a different kind, but finding food was likely less of a struggle, and the world's most advanced technological resources were readily available to be used at his discretion.

Yet to become King he must combat those who oppose him with raw brute strength alone, and when his streetwise exceptionally skilled cousin controversially lays down the gauntlet he's been running his entire life, T'Challa's (Chadwick Boseman) imposing prowess can't endure.

He's callously tossed.

Into the healing waters below.

As King, Erik Killmonger (Michael B. Jordan) seeks to move Wakanda in new directions.

Bitterly aware of how his culture has been marginalized in many domains, he's ready to fight his way to respectability, and use Wakandan technology to achieve vengeful ends.

Once again differing conceptions of how best to pursue communal objectives conflict, as civility is cast aside, and tradition is torn asunder.

Indubitably so.

Age old political stresses.

Wakanda may be a fictional creation, but its realistic metaphorical value can be seen in strong African communities across the globe, communities that continuously prove their cultural worth when often surrounded by savage persecution.

Wakandan seeds are globally developing and flourishing amidst sustained idiotic cultural devaluations, ignorantly born of jealousy and fear, and raised by systematic institutionalized stupidity.

Live well.

Ignore the hate fuelled poison and use wealth acquired to promote and facilitate education and commerce (Boyz n the Hood).

I don't know what to do if outsiders are flooding communities with hard drugs to destroy them.

I don't know what to do if bigots continue to hate even though they watch films like Hidden Figures and love the game of football.

I do know that studying, working hard, and respecting other respectful people is a rewarding way to live, especially if you share what you've l(e)arned with your community.

And if communities do this worldwide you've got a pretty chill and cool planet to live on, raise families on, flourish on.

Thrive on.

It's like Marvel's becoming a global conscience of sorts.

With all that cash, there's no telling how much cool they can do.

Loved Black Panther.

Abacus: Small Enough to Jail

Men and women who go beyond and take risks to help their community get through difficult times, who care enough to try and set hardworking impoverished people up with the loans they need to simplify complicated cashflow problems, people like Thomas Sung, who saw that his community needed a bank, a bank which he then went about creating, as chronicled in Steve James's Abacus: Small Enough to Jail, Sung spent a huge chunk of his life assisting struggling immigrant families who had been rejected elsewhere, innovative families, whose loans rarely defaulted.

That's what statistics presented in the documentary precisely state, although they didn't prevent the Abacus Federal Savings Bank from being indicted for fraud.

After the 2008 financial crisis.

None of the gigantic American banks were tried in the fallout, instead, one small bank from New York's Chinatown was presumed guilty, and the government didn't even have much of a case.

Had crimes been committed at the bank?

Yes.

As the bank grew, Sung and members of his family eventually became executive managers, a reward for years of dedicated service, and their higher ranking positions slowly cut them off from ground level employees, as the years passed by.

They could monitor the bank's activities from higher up, but since they had less direct contact, it became easier for the unscrupulous to cheat them.

And a popular employee named Ken Yu did just that, along with many of the people for whom he secured loans.

As soon as his crimes came to light he was fired, but the damage had already been done.

Were the crimes committed at the bank significantly less serious than those committed by major American financial institutions?

Yes.

And whereas many of the loans approved by those institutions defaulted, only an extremely small statistically significant number of those approved by Abacus did as well.

Was there an attempt to scapegoat a small bank catering to an immigrant community for crimes committed by more formidable opponents?

It certainly looks that way, especially when you consider that none of the bigger banks were prosecuted, none, as in ye olde not a single one.

Who is Thomas Sung if not a first rate American who devoted his entire life, a life filled with countless self-sacrifices, to making the United States even greater?

Damaging his reputation and humiliating him and his family and his community in court was a cowardly act perpetrated by a lack of imagination.

It's as if he was targeted for his integrity by those who had none, The Dark Knight's Harvey Dent factor coming into play.

Fortunately he unyieldingly faced the charges and diligently proved his innocence.

One tough hombre.

An inspirational American.

Molly's Game

What a sensation.

Nefariously betrayed by a player in L.A, she picks up and moves to New York, cleverly managing its most lucrative poker game soon after, a table upon which it only cost $250,000 to play.

To buy in.

Exceedingly bright yet mysterious and chill, she lavishly executes with modest reticent conviviality, eloquently ensuring a good time while building her mystique, seducing excessive wealth because she remains unavailable, her clients finding themselves basking in wondrous extremes, vivaciously sustained, through feverish risk embellishment.

Just sitting at the table must have made them feel legendary.

While her exotic enabling and untouchable allure generated complimentary resilient reveries that made losing millions seem like fun.

Elegance.

Jurisprudently classified.

Quite a sporty film, Molly's Game.

The dialogue rapidly disseminates emblazoned information with fervid freeflowing evangelical equanimity.

With innocence.

She's not necessarily free of guilt, but like Columbo in For Your Eyes Only, her crimes amount to nothing when compared to those of Kristatos.

Molly's (Jessica Chastain) lawyer sees it that way too (Idris Elba as Charlie Jaffey), making an impassioned plea for the prosecution's sympathy in one of the film's best scenes.

If you like psychology, Molly has an honest contentious conversation with her father (Kevin Costner) near the end, that argumentatively condenses priceless age-old imbroglios.

It's well-timed.

She was one of the best downhill skiers in the U.S at one point, specializing in moguls, and she matched her athleticism with a sharp intellect that was confident and capable enough to construct palaces out of incredible risks undertaken, while never opportunistically overlooking client confidentiality.

Even when offered millions.

Self-reliant sacrifice.

Supreme integrity.

Good film, fast-paced-high-stakes worked into a narrative that's direct yet still more intelligent than most.

There must be big games in Denver.

Every night of the year.

I, Daniel Blake

Like Going in Style's much grittier independent cousin, Ken Loach's I, Daniel Blake sympathetically examines poverty in Britain to find working solutions to bureaucratic prerogatives.

Daniel (Dave Johns) is a respectful hardworking individual who lives within his means and has never had to learn how to use computers.

He meets Katie (Hayley Squires) and her children one day at social services and responds reasonably to her criticisms of its harsh procedural dictates.

She's a young struggling single mother of two who wants to go back to school but can't afford to take care of her family at the same time.

Daniel helps out as much as he can, but has to spend 35 hours a week looking for a job that he has to refuse, should it be offered, because he can't physically return to work due to a recent heart attack.

He tried to tell this to a social services rep but potential heart failure wasn't an option on the questionnaire, which deemed him fit to return to work since he answered it truthfully.

He appealed but still had to abide by the initial ruling meanwhile.

A lot of time and planning goes into providing people living through hard times with financial assistance, but if there are no alternative options in place for the exceptions to the rules, as I, Daniel Blake sharply points out, the safety net needs to be adjusted in order to considerately accommodate.

For instance, as previously mentioned, Daniel can't use a computer, it's probable that other applicants can't use computers, it makes sense that a workshop should be created to help these individuals collectively learn computer basics, so that they can then access the services which can correspondingly assist them.

It's often just a matter of adding another question to a form, but it's surprising how hard it can be to change a form or how long it can take for the changes to be implemented after it's been approved by committee.

Daniel's feisty.

He gets along well with his neighbours but doesn't shy away from airing grievances.

It's a great film examining honest attempts to live honestly within a mistrustful situation.

Neither preachy nor sentimental, it's more like a realistic hypothetical investigation of unfortunate sets of circumstances, which for austere reasons can't be rationally resolved, than a poppy good natured heist.

Decent jobs with decent pay make a nation's reliance on social services much less taxing.

There's an interesting sidebar that examines how the internet can theoretically aid underemployed earnest entrepreneurs, who have physical jobs but lack full-time hours.

Strong performances, heartwarming community, heartbreaking realities, tenacious script, Ken Loach conscientiously examines postmodern day British poverty through a contemporary Dickensian lens to shed light on dark issues.

Do people still read him in Britain?

Seriously, it's worth building up the vocabulary.

I suppose the word grit may come from integrity.

Jeremy Corbyn.

In possession of both I imagine.

Goon: Last of the Enforcers

It wasn't until I was much older that I realized there was something odd about fighting in hockey.

I began to slowly notice that other sports enforced much stricter penalties on athletes who decided to fight during a game, and that professional hockey's pugilistic characteristics were often regarded with astonishment by those hailing from far distant lands.

I admitted that, in comparison with football, basketball, baseball, and soccer, (okay, it wasn't until I was much much older that soccer was included in the list), it did seem strange that regularly squaring off during a game was culturally applauded, although, having matured within that very same culture, as a spectator, I found I didn't evaluate this aspect of the game that negatively, and instead tried to teach newcomers words and phrases such as, "bruiser," "goon," "toe to toe," "left hook," and "got knocked/laid the fuck out," in order to encourage their Canadian acculturation.

Some of them were also familiar with boxing, which made me think their transition to Canadian life may indeed be smooth, like learning to skate on a well-groomed ice surface.

Perhaps it was.

If they were still searching for more information concerning Canada's love of hockey fighting, I would certainly recommend Jay Baruchel's Goon: Last of the Enforcers, and also Goon, which I'm afraid I haven't seen.

Goon 2 uncritically captures Canada's love of enforcing the game, and a close study of its combative emphasis can likely assist roosted travellers in finding cozy ways to relate to their newfound Canadian brothers and sisters.

Had Mr. Baruchel known that his film would be functioning as an ambassadorial aid, he may have hired Mike Smith, Rob Wells, and John Paul Tremblay to help out with the script (they recently started writing new Trailer Park Boys seasons themselves and have scripted some of the best TPB episodes yet), which, although funny at times, struggles to generate long-lasting comedic momentum.

It does excel at emphasizing teamwork, family values, commentating, and friendship, absurdity bellicosely bromancing f(l)ights fantastic, but more time and care will be required to shoot Goon 3 into Don't Legalize It territory, not that it wasn't fun to watch, or hilarious at times.

Picnicface could play an opposing team coached by a scandalized Mr. D.

Erica from Being Erica could challenge Doug (Seann William Scott) and Eva's (Alison Pill) relationship by coquettishly introducing herself on the road in Moncton.

Bruce Greenwood could play the doctor with the magical cure.

Fred Ward's not Canadian but he could play a villain of some sort.

It's win win win.

Win win.

Win win.

With recurring curious comments from the recently moved Little Mosque on the Prairie family who at one point run into Ron MacLean in the stands who cheerfully explains everything?

What could function as a better unacknowledged integrational family friendly feature?

Like a grilled cheese for breakfast.

With blueberry crêpes on the side!

Hidden Figures

On occasion, if you're asked to work longer hours for the same amount of money, the company you're working for is trying to ensure their profits increase every month/quarter/etc. and targeting your unpaid overproduction as a source of intangible revenue.

Red flag.

Make sure you're trying to find a new job if stuck in such a situation.

However, if you happen to be working for NASA (or have a stable professional position) and you're immersed in a reasonably wild competition with the Soviet Union to do all kinds of crazy space stuff, suppose that competition would be with China these days, and the Soviets are winning, as they are in Hidden Figures, I suppose spending some extra unpaid time at work wouldn't be that bad, if there are no available public funds to pay for the overtime, and you are capable of taking part in something vital.

In space.

Not necessarily in space, but Hidden Figures uses ye olde space race to cleverly promote congenial race relations as a matter of national integrity.

It's too bad a member from a minority group has to be Einstein-smart to break down racial barriers.

You would think common democratic decency would have done that centuries ago.

The film's solid, a feel good family friendly examination of three highly intelligent African American women that's neither too sentimental, nor too fluffy.

I love Octavia Spencer (Dorothy Vaughan).

The women boldly yet humbly challenge institutional bigotry through hard work and determination as opposed to violence to make changes in their stilted dismissive working environment.

Some cool features.

Rage and passive resistance are matrimonially engendered as Mary (Janelle Monáe) and Levi Jackson (Aldis Hodge) discuss inflammatory political subjects.

She loves expressing herself yet also loves Levi so she intelligently lets him know when her boiling point has been reached before passionately pontificating with resolute clarification.

He works with his hands but is impressed with her desire to become an engineer and buys her some new pencils out of respect for her mind and the difficulties associated with her approaching studies (she becomes the first African American woman to study at a white school in Virginia).

Dorothy creatively borrows a book from the white section of her local library which she uses to remain employed as computers show up on the scene.

She learns so much that she's able to save 30 odd jobs after teaching the people working for her how to adapt, thereby making their contributions operationally essential.

She doesn't just take the money and run.

She gives back to her community.

Katherine G. Johnson (Taraji P. Henson), whose mathematical gifts intergalactically defy limitations, demonstrates why it's so important to never dismiss pieces of information that seem out of date (thereby promoting technical libraries), by using ancient knowledge to solve a contemporary puzzle, proving that sometimes inventing the new means discovering something that was contemplated thousands of years ago.

And Kevin Costner (Al Harrison) kicks ass throughout.

What a great role to play.

I'm going to watch Waterworld again.

I tried that with Alexander last winter (although I had never seen it before).

Double whoops!

I bet Waterworld's better.

Hidden Figures is a wonderful film.

Settai

Writer John Mahendran has packed a plethora of modest jocose sensationalizations into Settai's script, subtly and frankly working within while deconstructing what I'm assuming are Bollywood tropes, the singing and the dancing, always with the singing and the dancing, while intricately laying the foundations for an alternative journalistic cultural outlet, practically yet scatologically introducing capitalistic sentiments (the scoundrel of the film's triumvirate of struggling unmarried young male professionals knows how to find money but suffers from recurring bowel disruptions throughout), as well as a host of additional interconnected motivations.

The film is deep.

Fidelity, friendship, professional integrity, authenticity, keeping up with the Joneses, love, economics, other things, all of these concurrent psychological influences are mischievously intertwined, made to seem ridiculous yet pertinent, in an attempt to encourage change from within.

I think.

For instance, one of the first scenes shows a song about to be sung by gaudy performers equipped with robotic tigers but we then discover that it's just being played on a television screen in an airport and has nothing directly to do with the film.

Hence, I thought there would be less singing and dancing.

There is still a lot of singing and dancing but one number does include flaming sitars.

They're not really flaming, it's more like gigantic electric sparks are shooting forth from their instrumental breadth, but still, a nice touch.

The distinction between quality and quantity appears again and again as mistakes introduce obstacles the surmounting of which proves empowering.

Reminded me of my idea to start a new National monthly periodical, 25% First Nations, 25% Francophone, 25% Anglophone, 25% Allophone.

Something like Multicultural Mayhem.

Not really the title I'm thinking of.

I don't have a title.

Just need some capital.

And some contacts.

And some colleagues.

And a market.

And a title.

Looks like I may have to learn to sing and dance.

Cool flick.

Gangster Squad

Gangster Squad worked for me.

It unreels like a tight graphic novel, short critical scenes packing poignant particles of plot into pyrotechnic proclivities, action-packed definitive melodrama fetchingly refurbishing the forensics.

Films such as these often fall apart if the writer(s) hasn't taken the extra time to ensure that her or his lines often seamlessly synthesize the kitschy and the poetic, and Will Beall's script creatively accomplishes this task, no doubt with assistance from Paul Lieberman's novel, commercially perspiring the artistic.

Gangster Squad blows Not Fade Away and The Last Stand away.

The ending, while jurisprudently brandishing a brash scarred face, wasn't as electric as that from Iron Man 2, and the Squad's supporting members would have benefitted from more screen time (throughout).

They do receive plenty of screen time (throughout) and there are a bunch of supporting characters but it's more like Star Trek: The Original Series than Voyager or The Next Generation, frequently focused on leading persons.

If Django Unchained attaches a commercial dimension to the artistic, I would argue that Gangster Squad adds an artistic dimension to the commercial.

Both are hyperviolent but I likely wouldn't have noticed Gangster Squad's if it wasn't for Django Unchained.

If Sgt. John O'Mara (Josh Brolin) and Mickey Cohen (Sean Penn) were both running backs, it's tough to imagine who would pick up more yards per game.

Methinks Mr. O'Mara has the edge.

Straight up the gut.

Love how Ruben Fleischer's career is progressing.

Half way through I was hoping for some Gary Busey. Shook my head when I remembered that it co-stars Nick Nolte.