Showing posts with label Nuclear Weapons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nuclear Weapons. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 9, 2024

Oppenheimer

Nuclear weapons are a horrible thing.

They're easily the most reckless anything anyone has ever created, and it's an international miracle the secrets of their creation have been kept under lock and key to this present day.

For a while it seemed like their manufacture would become a thing of the past, as Russia and the United States struck accord after accord, and seemed ready to cultivate lasting peace throughout a united interactive world, wherein which difference wasn't something to be feared, and absolutes were nothing more than sewage.

But this historical epoch is partially defining itself in opposition to the last 30 years, as Trump has arisen to challenge them, so instead of a brilliant film like Planet of the Apes (1968), which effectively obliterated arguments in their defence, we have Christopher Nolan's Oppenheimer, which revels and glorifies in their creation, overlooking the ill-fated Planet of the Apes sequel, Beneath the Planet of the Apes. 

Paying disingenuous lip service to the ways in which madmen can use them to coordinate mass destruction on a planetary scale, it instead introduces several powerful independent scientists, and examines various controversies as they jockey for position.

Thus, two prominent individuals see their reputations slowly ruined as the film bureaucratically concerns itself with bilateral character assassination, without really generating much character along the way, besides that associated with blind innocence and petty grievances. 

It's more like an academic paper with no sense of objectivity than a convincing film.

Prometheus taught the people to make fire so they could cook their own food and have warmth and entertainment.

Anyone who would have denied them such knowledge is certainly not worthy of divinity. 

Oppenheimer coordinated a team that built a nuclear weapon with the power to kill hundreds of thousands that select military officials can use hopefully only as a deterrent. 

Do you see how Prometheus is not like Oppenheimer? How the comparison is ridiculous?

It does seem more and more like Christopher Nolan is the military industrial complex's darling, as they note in Barbie, the patriarchy just hides its hegemony more effectively these days, and whereas Oliver Stone actually made an incredible film looking at the ways in which JFK's murder was covered up, Nolan's Oppenheimer creates a Republican rib roast to be saluted for years to come, while presumably catering to democratic sympathies (JFK didn't win best picture when it should have [Oliver Stone also made a film that lauded Edward Snowden, it didn't make the case for the mass institutional invasion of privacy through cellphones like Nolan did at the end of The Dark Knight]).

I used to have a friend who was nice to talk to but sometimes didn't take her meds, and thought she heard voices in the walls of people discussing this and that.

I tried to ease her mind when these thoughts would overwhelm her late at night, and even though nothing could convince her that the voices weren't real, the conversation helped lighten the anxious mood.

In turn, it was nice to have someone to talk to, to know someone who didn't quickly change their tune, to have a sympathetic yet mischievous outlook to clarify trajectories and nothing in particular.

She tolerated my French too and even taught me a couple of words. 

I like being nobody in Québec.

And I'll always love working and living there. 

Tuesday, September 1, 2015

The Man from U.N.C.L.E.

The lighter side of the cold war squares off in Guy Ritchie's The Man from U.N.C.L.E., as the CIA and the KGB team up to hunt down nuclear weapons, polished and grizzly, both agents preferring to work alone.

An East German bombshell (Alicia Vikander as Gaby) tearjerks and tantalizes to provide them with cover, diligently driven, ready to cut loose.

What follows is fun if not formulaic, it's meant to be a good time, not striving for originality here, it's definitely not Snatch., Sherlock Holmes, or Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, a less explosive cross-cultural collision, still cocky enough to serialize fried snarky charm, pleasant, entertaining, like a seaside pitcher of lemonade.  

It's quite sure of itself, a much better A View to a Kill sans Christopher Walken, you keep thinking, "their cover should be blown and it's not, their cover should be blown, and it's not," before you just roll with it, sit back, consume.

There is one scene that stands out, and it unreeled just when I was thinking, "now is the time for an unexpected break from the predicability," Solo (Henry Cavill) then escaping death only to find himself seated in a truck accompanied by Dionysian delights, of which he partakes, while Illya (Armie Hammer) frenetically frisks and flounders (Ritchie's take on the [manufactured?] west/east antagonism?).

Solo smashingly rejoins the fight moments later.

I found it odd that we was drinking Johnnie Walker Black near the end, unless it was blue and I couldn't distinguish the colour, but Solo seems more like a JW Blue man, although the black is much more unconsciously accessible.

Harvesting trust.

Also, I was surprised by the amount of detail Solo learns about Illya during the night, claiming he read up on him.

The Man from U.N.C.L.E. doesn't take place in the age of exponential information access.

How did he come across all the highly classified details?

What was read, shared, exposed?

*Hold on. Further research has proven that Johnnie Walker Black was a good choice. Still, Solo, Blue, Blue, Solo.