A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

True kindness and understanding, humbly presented with compassionate care, eager to learn new things and listen, according to the preferences of his friends and colleagues, willing to encourage an idea within reason, or curiously lend a helping hand, accustomed to supporting friends in startled need, or sitting back to shoot the breeze, perhaps ready to share a contradiction, but not with offensive intent, offered without seeking to contest or duel, but to passively suggest an alternative option, full of thanks and amicable reward, he frankly yet pleasantly proceeds, truly interested in what you have to say, unconcerned with rank or bias, sincere sympathy reflexively conveyed, clear positive energy, an anti-sophist, a remarkably thoughtful and genuine teacher, a good neighbor, one Mr. Fred Rogers (Tom Hanks).

Meets Mr. Angry (Matthew Rhys as Lloyd Vogel), a grown-up devoid of youth, consumed by hopeless cynicism, blind to lighthearts and forgiveness.

It's sad because Angry's in a position to spread hope and good cheer, not simply for merriment's sake, but to encourage less hostile relations, since if the people who are concerned with spreading the truth only see greed and envy, and emphasize the preponderance of these vices in everything they write, even though they have influence, they'll create communities void of trust, especially if they always focus on people like Trump, who bring it on themselves, and don't showcase less grotesque alternatives, Trump's world is certainly violent, and needs to be forthrightly exposed, but if nothing is offered as a less corrupt alternative, because he's selling all the papers, and the news still shapes people's worldview, then there's nothing but individualized angst to rely on, and the world becomes Trump's forbidding place.

I suppose stories about philanthropists and less controversial figures don't sell as many papers, but if the news is entirely focused on death and destruction, and people learn how to behave in response, is it not more ethical to risk less revenue, and share more stories about warmth and compassion?

If the news is saying it's wrong to live within an expedient void wherein which there are no principles or standards, and it shies away from sharing stories which reflect goodwill and sympathy, sharing them along with those it disseminates to expose political corruption, because they want to earn higher profits, does it not also exist in an expedient void where there's nothing but disgrace and corruption?

If they're to be relied upon as the promoters of a better world, should they not also do something to promote that world?

As did Mr. Rogers?

I understand this point in time is particularly bleak, but there must still be noteworthy stories out there about people spreading the light, and your first instinct shouldn't be to denounce them as hypocrites because of something they did 20 years ago, but to perhaps build them up as champions of peace fighting blatant corruption.

If there are no leaders who are worthy of respect what's the point in respecting anything?

Isn't that what Trump wants? Doesn't he suggest there's no point in respecting anyone so you may as well follow him?

I understand life isn't a box of chocolates, but it's not a razor's edge either. There's room for light as well as dark. And people like stories about honest folks.

I'm not looking for a share of the spotlight, I'm just thinking about these kinds of things.

The news often seems so grim.

Other people have messages besides Trump.

Ramen Teh

A young man, longing to prove himself, sets off from Japan to visit his mother's family in Singapore.

His father was a celebrated chef who settled in a small town to the delight of its local residents.

Widely renowned he may have been, but easy going (like my dad) he was not, and although he sought to diversify fundamentals, he never shared his knowledge with his respectful son (Takumi Saito as Masato).

After his passing, his son Masato discovers a suitcase full of memorabilia which poses a treasure trove of questions he's ill-equipped to answer.

Yet they lead him to Singapore and its own tempting culinary traditions.

Sleuthing in a foreign country, and overflowing with purposeful examination, his friendly uncle lends a hand, although he can't appease his hostile grandmother.

For his parents married against her will in the aftermath of World War II, their budding love and youthful devotion then overlooked forever after.

She can't forgive.

Even after all this time.

But Masato's full of endearing pluck.

And won't yield to the hardhearted flutter.

Dramatic family drama.

Soothed by gastronomic arts.

Ramen Teh takes one part stubborn and another openminded, blends them intergenerationally, then prepares a multifaceted feast.

The narrative generally follows a linear recipe, but there's enough scenic spice to atemporally tantalize.

It wouldn't have been easy to forgive after the war, and I can understand if some people simply won't/wouldn't.

Watch the videos, the documentaries, Schindler's List, teach yourself about how cruel and horrifying World War II really was.

It's not a humorous subject, not something to be taken lightly, not something to be romanticized, it was systematic abject terror.

Tenderly, in the war's long reaching wake, Ramen Teh uses food to harmonize different peoples.

I'd wager it's impossible to emerge from watching it without a new found respect for Asian cooking, and a strong desire to head out and try something new posthaste.

Ramen noodles for me.

Sitting back and enjoying a meal is something peoples everywhere love to do, and the simple act of enjoying food with friends and/or loved ones unconsciously unites the globe in wonder.

Ramen Teh excels at bringing people together without sermon or sentiment, through the simple act of modestly preparing something.

Compromise leads to reconciliation.

Listening promotes curiosity.

Some of the time anyways.

Some of the best of times.

Sympathy for Lady Vengeance

The snow gently descends along its ethereal path, randomly commissioned, capturing daydreams and murmurings and innocence, a mistake leads to penalties, incarcerated plumes, resurgent resilient ceremonial hues, a daughter, a family, remembrances, takes, withdrawn yet fulfilled as misgivings wake, tied to a chair for his crimes sits and waits, his victims regroup, testimonials discussed, sudden romance, baking, that could have happened, that did happen, that did, it's a possibility, there's a reward, recognition, an angel, fluttering and flying, mystified, the group gathered together, cohesive, confused, rounded-up-singled-out, battered, used, penalties for mistakes no escape lightly staked priorities, he was on the case, he worked in the prison, piecemeal, sharp, perforated introductions, reintroduced with reflections, suggestions, vivisections, a light tapping, sound, panoramic internal detail, resurfaced recalcitrance, submission to the verdict, determined, resolved tick-tocking, snatched, an eye for an eye, rehabilitated, refreshed, working together, together, with each other, at pictures and fissures and scripture, bemoan and beget, implacable, lace, eyeshadow, fallen by the wayside, with friendship, and family and friendship and family and clustered repentant momentous recoveries darkened and resting and snapping and slowly, taking their time, offering advice, stipulating conditions, acquiescing, atoning, sequestering while unleashing Sympathy for Lady Vengeance.

Ocean's 13

Oceans 13's plot is so far gone it's outrageous. I suppose this is an action-adventure-crime flick but it plays more like a comic book. Since it's the third installment in a trilogy, off-the-wall extremely offbeat plot twists should be expected.

So, if I get this right, in order for the Ocean's gang to successfully pull off this farce all they have to do is successfully organize a worker's revolt at a dice manufacturing plant in Mexico, order two giant underground drills to simulate an earthquake in downtown Las Vegas, convince pseudo-nemesis Terry Benedict (Andy Garcia) to loan them 26 million plus, all the while finding a way to break down the most sophisticated casino security system ever conceived, during which time they intend to earn a comfortable 500 million. These realizations make it sound preposterous, and it is, preposterous, but, while viewing the film I was tricked by the conniving cast into believing their far-fetched shenanigans were legit, and I sit here three days later applauding their designs. The plot is as intense and demanding as it is chaotic and staggering so drink a long tall espresso before diving in. And of all the predictable performances, I'm givin' props to Scott Caan as Turk Malloy, who overtly steals scene after scene with his gritty working class charm.