Matthias & Maxime

Friends gather to celebrate life within secluded surroundings, artistic expression boldly reconstituting unspoken sublimated desire, an accord harmlessly struck, a shock recomposed endeavours, worst case in light of expectations, shy protests crafting haunts.

A return to urban routines, mild vast driven stoked responsibilities, one friend making ends meet in a bar, another focused on strict legalese.

Not that simple, neither cradled nor binary, distinct multiple clasped characterizations, intermingling nuanced intermediaries, conscious delegates a crew a neighbourhood.

Young adult cultural instinct, twenty something perspicacious reflexivity, not the fight like I've come to understand it, less jagged, less aggressive, less blunt.

A son struggles to take care of a parent who's recovering from drug addiction.

Lofty heights beckon as a visitor hails difference.

Lighthearted yet solemn and serious.

Exploration, presumption, discovery.

Matthias & Maxime, Xavier Dolan's latest, more in touch with something real, less volatile than Mommy or Tom à la ferme, but more impacting than Fin du monde or John F. Donovan.

I was hoping he'd make a film like this, a transition to something new, not that similar themes don't abound, it's just less wild, less chaotic, less psycho.

He does psycho well, but it started to seem like most of his films were going to be about nutters expressing themselves violently, so it's nice to see something laidback and chill, something relatable, something frisky, something calm.

It's not bourgeois by any means, although it has sure and steady elements, his characters still struggling to define themselves even if they aren't concerned with identity politics.

Exist is perhaps a better word, the film's concerned with thoughtful experimental existence, as threadbare as it is brisk and versatile, quite practical for something so imaginative.

I mean there aren't many bells and whistles, its sets more quotidian, less ornately endowed, characters spiritually composed and thriving in clever situations that don't overtly display intellect, don't draw attention to their value-added observations, just converse like they aren't trying to say something, the western character for example.

Matthias & Maxime (don't like the title) opens up fertile narrative ground that no other filmmaker is traversing, that can't be as easily criticized for being over the top, and requires more hands-on subtle innovations.

Still bet he could make one hell of a horror film.

Note: Québec could use more sci-fi.

It's great to watch films made by directors who care about their characters.

And work sympathy into their stories.

Introducing unexpected impulse.

Solid grizzled and gritty romanticism.

Victoria & Abdul

Dualities softly structure Stephen Frears's Victoria & Abdul, like stately courtly pillow fights stuffed with feta cheese.

Abdul (Ali Fazal), a young Indian clerk who's suddenly given the chance to serve the British Queen (Judi Dench), is initially contrasted with Mohammed (Adeel Akhtar), a fellow citizen who has a much less romantic vision of Britain's sleepless empire.

He's also opposed to Victoria's eldest son, Bertie (Eddie Izzard), since his close relationship with the Queen allows her to be much more maternal with him than she ever could be with her entitled offspring.

The Queen is royal yet rough and grumpy after decades of diplomatically socializing, while Abdul is common yet polished and enthusiastic after years of cultivating working relationships.

She's also contrasted with her staff whose racist pretensions cringe at the thought of entertaining and living with an Indian muslim.

Jealousy fosters collusion.

Collusion begets wrath.

The dualistic structures of the script, which is full of light short meaningful scenes which briskly move the film along while digestibly dramatizing intense subjects, create a disputatiously inclusive reverent collage of hospital hostilities and delicate debates, complete with brave moments that champion multicultural communities and uphold principles of mutual tolerance at the highest anti-racist levels.

Eat it Trump.

The release of Victoria & Abdul comes at a critical time.

Trump's in/direct promotion of intolerance and hate is spreading like a loathsome psychological plague, enacting a total disaster for the working people he claims to champion and likely regards as cannon fodder.

I've lived and worked with people from Africa, Indian, China, South and North America, Europe, the country, the city, etcetera, and I've learned that the racist hate speech fuelled by Trump and his supporters is as detestable as it is absurd.

I obviously want to see the terrorists brought to justice.

If the police have more power to stop terrorist suspects before they act without infringing upon the rights of citizens in general, especially considering how freely terrorists move throughout Europe, then perhaps the terrorist brats who keep giving their cultures a violent name will think twice before detonating bombs or driving through crowds.

It should be remembered, as Victoria & Abdul soundly relates, that muslims also seek the benefits of civil society and continue to form an integral part of Western communities.

Most of them simply wish to work and peacefully support their families while simultaneously building strong communities.

Tolerating these communities in an atmosphere of mutual trust leads them to feel like citizens, not muslim citizens but French or American or Canadian citizens.

And if they feel at peace within their cultural surroundings, they'll be much more likely to do the work of the police for them.

Don't let the politics of hate destroy your mind.

Simple acts of kindness, and a willingness to constructively work together, can lead to a proliferation of united nations, the many deconstructing warlike rhetoric with comedic dis/engaged prosperity, psychotic mainstream discourses, crumbling into meaningless dust thereafter.

Which is ironically how they’re often presented.

Beware the ignorant boy Mr. Scrooge, beware.

His kind understands next to nothing.

And seeks to rule everything with extreme prejudice.

The Big Sick

The one night stand that blossoms into something bountiful.

Lighthearted carefree revelling evoking humorous injunctions.

Pakistani and European Americans embracing mutually inclusive tactile artistry.

Fanciful floodgates flummoxing.

As exclusivity spoils the fun.

And traditions tumultuously tether.

The Big Sick was much better than I thought it would be.

I only went to see it because I had seen everything else besides The Emoji Movie.

It wasn’t generally wishy washy or trashy or ridiculous or tough to take, rather, it was a well thought out multifaceted intergenerational romantic comedic dramatic account (I’m not writing dramedy) of restless young adults credulously craving each other’s clutches, caught up in interstitial exuberance, with feverish judicious nourishing insatiable impress.

The wild.

The exhilarating.

But Kumail‘s (Kumail Nanjiani) age old customs complicate things and there’s a devastating break up around two-fifths of the way through.

The film struggles for 15-20 minutes afterwards as Emily (Zoe Kazan) falls into a non-related coma, but just as it seemed like it was turning into a write off, her parents Beth (Holly Hunter) and Terry (Ray Romano) show up, and as guilt ridden Kumail gets to know them, the film’s transported to a much deeper level of interpersonal awareness, their steadily shifting interactions developing themes from one perplexity to the next, notably as Kumail learns how many familial problems they had after they married, and how strong they had to be to fetchingly confront them.

Holly Hunter steals a bunch of scenes. I’ve never noticed her like this before.  She owns the role with feisty delicacy and ponderous pluck and delivers a performance to recall. 

Best supporting actress?

It’s still pretty early, but wow, I was thoroughly impressed enough to place her on the list, like Brad Pitt in Thelma and Louise or the late honourable Bill Paxton in Aliens.

Kumail keeps performing throughout and the conversations he has with his fellow comedians ir/reverently round things out.

It also respectfully examines classic intercultural exploration.

Culture and tradition are certainly important. 

I don't care if people wish to live within their culture’s religious or secular guidelines.

Whatevs!

As long as the choice to mix and blend with other cultures still exists as well, to forge dynamic communal hybrids multigenerationally composed of differences from around the globe, to marry whomever the hell you want to marry, and if that choice is taken away, even if your family has lived somewhere for hundreds, thousands of years, I’m afraid that’s super lame, period.

It’s fun to date people from other cultures. You’re constantly learning new things.

Forgive yourself and ask for forgiveness if at times you learn a new cultural feature and happen to uncontrollably start laughing. 

Sometimes traditions you’re not familiar with seem funny until you understand how important they are to the new person you’ve met.

If you love them, you’ll feel bad. 

And if they love you, your punishment won’t be to dishevelling.

Blushy face.

*Nanjiani and Kazan work well together. I was thinking a sequel set in Brazil. I loved Ray Romano's "opened my mouth hoping something smart would come out" (paraphrase) line. The late at night sleepy conversations. "Tell me a story!" Oh man! 

A Perfect Day

The wild, the unknown, a war torn zone suffering the ravages of ethnocentric sterility walking the line between recovery and recidivism as peace talks rapidly progress.

A simple plan to find some rope and remove a dead body from a well, thereby providing the thirsty local populace with a free water supply, is bogged down in bureaucratic constipation while an independent team asserts their variability.

Mines, prejudices, flags, haunting uncertainties destabilizing the region.

But some citizens still know how to laugh.

Which influences A Perfect Day too seriously, as it comes across more like a buddy comedy than an illustration of bitter violence, like an episode from the 10th season of M*A*S*H, or friends sitting around a campfire having happy-go-lucky conversations while war pejoratively rages.

I like the characters, the situations, notably the cows who know how to navigate around land mines, but the hokey dialogue and purposive posturing (there's always a point someone's trying to make) wears thin after 15 minutes, or seconds, depending on your capacity to forgive.

It does stick it to overarching pretensions and legalistic technicalities that prevent people from doing simple things to achieve important goals, too many by-the-book applications occasionally hindering generally progressive initiatives.

But it's too much like The Monuments Men or what I imagine Whiskey Tango Foxtrot will be like (best title I've seen in years), local horrors eclipsed by cute and cuddly outsider shenanigans insufficiently solemnizing the inherent gravity of conflict, like showing up to play in the NFL without wearing pads, a warm fuzzy giraffe, not an omnivorous black bear.  

Ce qu'il faut pour vivre (The Necessities of Life)

Inuit hunter Tiivii (Natar Ungalaaq) finds himself in a bit of a pickle in Benoît Pilon's Ce qu'il faut pour vivre (The Necessities of Life), after he's transported away from his family on Baffin Island, where he's lived his entire life, by boat, to a sanatorium in Québec City, having been diagnosed with tuberculosis.

That's a serious transition.

Linguistic factors initially accentuate his sense of isolation until he's introduced to a precocious youngster fluent in both languages.

Kaki (Paul-André Brasseur) enables Tiivii to communicate, share his stories, modestly acculturate, and actively interact.

The film innocently blends differing urban and rural dispositions in a wondrous yet suffocating unexpected encounter with seemingly magical technological and naturalistic attributes whose intricate designs and developments stifle while encouraging Tiivii's desire for exploration.

I loved his first sighting of a tree.

Intercultural relations are helplessly, patiently, curiously, humorously, and communally negotiated, as differing aspects of culturo-linguistic adaptations socialize.

Thought the ending was a bit too tragic.

Seemed like a happy ending film to me.

Thought Tiivii's telephone conversation with his wife was cut off too quickly as well.

Excellent expression of an individual's relationship with the land however.