Star Trek: Generations

I wonder how those old shows that I grew up watching every day, for so many years of my life, are currently regarded by the viewing public.

No doubt the manifest enthusiasm ebbs and flows from realm to juridiction, and even within open-minded circles trends and novelties come and go.

Without conducting a Foucauldian investigation I imagine interest is still strong nevertheless, and I recall seeing The Original Series trending on Netflix less than 5 years ago.

It doesn't age, especially after you stop watching TV for years and then one day find yourself sitting down to watch an episode, the VHS copy you recently found at a thrift store in far reaching wholesome working condition.

It was a Next Generation cassette and humbly featured Jean-Luc Picard, whose leadership style wholeheartedly disseminates a virtuous contradiction to Trump.

He listens closely to what others are saying and sincerely values their opinions, and looks forward to fair negotiations that treat different parties with mutual respect.

He's as anti-Trump as they come and a solid example for leaders to follow, the show's called Star Trek: The Next Generation, and it presents administrators who aren't buffoons.

But back in the day, The Original Series generally ruled the cultural roost, and was usually regarded as the cherished frontrunner when it came to comparisons between the series.

People were therefore uncertain how The Next Generation films would do, having to follow the trusted footsteps of the original widespread broadcast sensation. 

In hindsight, The Original Series showcases potentially timeless episodes, that I still love to watch every 5 years or so, unlike so much old school television.

It was cancelled early though perhaps dues to the interracial kiss, and religious criticisms of a popular world so far beyond rigid biblical discipline.

The Next Generation had a longer run and was able to do a lot more consequently.

So many clever intricate storylines.

I can't believe they didn't make more films.

It's tempting to just watch the movies because watching movies is always tempting, but try to save Star Trek: Generations until you've watched The Original Series, the first six Star Trek films, and the entire Next Generation run.

You'll appreciate Kirk meeting Picard so much more if this is the course you follow.

It's not as bad as some critics claim.

There are some issues (how can you just leave the Nexus and physically go anywhere you want in time for instance?).

But it's still really cool year after year. 

Yearning

 *Spolier Alert

A dedicated daughter-in-law spends her life managing her new family's business, her intricate savvy and reflexive know-how having saved it from ruin during World War II.

Her husband passed in the war though and she sadly never married again, although she honourably cherishes his memory with devout respect and wholesome dignity. 

A new supermarket opens in town and starts undercutting their trusted prices, leaving her in-laws in a difficult spot which they need to manage with nimble moxy. 

It's decided to expand the business and boldly open a much larger store, but the loyal intuitive multifaceted manager is initially denied a leading role. 

It's thought that she should remarry and a suitable candidate is wisely chosen, 17.5 years having gone by since her husband passed, the idea perhaps not that socially awkward.

But she refuses out of heartfelt devotion and eventually decides to return to her home.

But not before she distressingly discovers.

That her deceased husband's younger brother is madly in love with her.

The ending's a brilliant illustration of the conflicting post-war attitudes in volatile Japan, the younger less rigid experimental viewpoints and the older more orthodox sociocultural rules. 

Reiko has to admit that she has feelings for Koji and that she's felt amazing since she learned of his passion, yet still feels determinably duty bound to her old husband's stately ultimate sacrifice. 

She's also much older than Koji and it's a bit weird marrying two brothers from the same family, but that doesn't mean she isn't tempted to continue living in the world she's created.

Unfortunately, while travelling home Koji follows her upon the train, and in their confusion they depart somewhat early and get a hotel just to think for the night.

Koji goes for a walk after another heated argument morosely breaks down, and gets too close to a haunting cliff's edge and earth-shatteringly falls to his unrequited end.

But is the film condemning Koji for having tried to break with the old conservative ways?

Or modest Reiko for not having embraced the newfound less severe liberal ideology?

It's classic obscured ambiguity which likely still generates debate amongst film fans.

A genuine tragedy embroiled in conflict.

Much too serious or excessively light. 

Ikiru

The fluid motion of the bureaucratic stream meticulously generating endless paperwork, to be filed and effectively categorized as emergent initiatives continuously diversify.

A steady job punctilious no doubt but relatively safe with benefits and comforts, not as lively as poetry or sword fighting but still dependable, reliable, and calm.

Nevertheless, concerned citizens seeking dynamic change may run into hardships, if things stagnate and there's no will to moderately adjust the status quo.

In Ikiru, for instance, determined mothers seek to change their environment, due to the incorrigible waste water leaving their children covered in rashes. 

Coincidentally, a senior civil servant who loves his family and is known for hard work, unfortunately discovers he has stomach cancer and only 6 months to a year left to live.

He decides to uncharacteristically withdraw some money and extemporaneously galavant around town, and soon becomes harmlessly infatuated with a spirited younger employee from work.

As she becomes bored with their routine which is somewhat too outgoing for the conservative climate, she asks him why he likes to spend time with her and he bravely decides to answer.

Her youthful spirit it captivatingly seems has reinvigorated his thirst for life, and caused him to reimagine his working role and spearhead change within his department.

They never see each other again but her accidental influence bears auspicious fruit.

And without much time left to live.

He charismatically champions change.

Stick with Ikiru's good intentions it gradually builds to a wholesome climax (Ikiru, not the United States), difficult to make a thrilling bureaucratic film that modestly presents humble good natured caricatures. 

I'm so used to Kurosawa's samurai that this was a surprise full of uncanny feeling, where the civil service functions bucolically amidst the insurgence of lay councilpeople.

I wonder if it was inspired by Dickens it's like The Circumlocution Office in Little Dorrit, where one of its employees isn't exactly like Scrooge but still wondrously changes for the communal good.

Imagine translating Dickens into French let alone Japanese brilliant translators are invaluable. 

How to understand different languages so well at such high levels.

Mind-blowing to say the least!

Tôkyô no yado (An Inn in Tokyo)

A single dad wanders from town to town in search of work with his two sons, with no place to stay and little money for food, he struggles as he searches for assured circumstances.

He's a tender man who's upset but not bitter, and still finds ways to imaginatively play with his children, they go with the flow and keep things light encountering another family who can't find work either.

Catching stray dogs can earn them something, even if flashy clothes are more appealing than food, and one night as it looks like they'll sleep outside, an old friend appears and offers them shelter.

A job is found shortly thereafter and things slowly and surely stabilize, but fortunate Kihachi (Takeshi Sakamoto) loves his sake, and from time to time drinks way too much.

As his life improves the other family's takes a turn for the superlative worse, and Kihachi feels he must do something to hold back the ferocious abyss.

Tôkyô no yado (An Inn in Tokyo) compassionately examines difficult times, the hardships confronting a kind man of conscience, who fights back against impoverished misfortune.

He accepts his fate and loves his children and never weeps or blows his top, finding solace in simple pleasures, in harvests and yields and crops.

Agency exists partout in mutating differing degrees, and it isn't only the affluent who can facilitate change, it's just a matter of persevering to the best of your abilities, resilient recourse diverse refrains.

A lot of the time chill solutions fluidly present themselves with communal care, whether it's a meal or shelter or a job, a placement, perhaps fixing something.

Kihachi's sacrifice achieves sublime ends even if it's tragic in its composure, a refusal to be bound by material reality in the pursuit of piecemeal justice.

Rare to come across films that are so patient and caring, that slow things down to enact cinematic resolve, to showcase emboldened endearing good spirits, humanistic agency beyond wealth or income.

Even though the situation is grim and reprieves seem like remote impossibilities, rich imagination still naturally flourishes, through age old non-violent customs.

It's a triumph of spirit immersed in contemplation, considering outcomes beyond individualistic concerns, even if you lack wealth you can still do something, invigorate animate turns.

Perfect for a light Spring evening where you want to embrace a less rapid pace.

Some bread, some cheese, some spirits.

Enjoyed with thought and emotion.  

The Big Heat

After a police officer's apparent suicide is determined to be suspicious, an honest detective sergeant uncompromisingly takes the case.

The clues point to a stern crime syndicate which is well entrenched within the town, but making arrests or acquiring evidence proves inextricably drawn and complicated.

Bannion (Glenn Ford) proceeds regardless with noble intent exceeding righteousness, directly to the established regime who's none too impressed with the inspired intrusion.

Soon his legitimate motives are questioned as he becomes a target for enraged thuggery, possessing commensurate headstrong wherewithal, things are bleak and rugged and ruthless. 

It's not inquisitive parlay, he's taken things right to the nerve stricken centre, without much forethought or investigation, like Kurtz he just thought it up and did it.

The repercussions are harsh, his resolve fierce and sympathetic, as he refuses to simply back down, attuned to paramount sublime ideals, and a bit of stubborn insanity.

But the world's by no means idyllic even if virtue is highly regarded.

In such a situation how does one proceed?

How do they induce potent logic?

Helps if you're not on your own and others appear offering tough helping hands, and the script's written to firmly uphold as you freely and nimbly engage.

It's perhaps too bluntly composed as Bannion boldly contends and interacts, too direct, to too the point, without moderate intervening placations. 

The Big Heat's stark contention examines polarized jurisprudence, but doesn't focus on the intermittent stages with much multifaceted concentration.

It's sort of like a football game where good and evil are the opposing teams, and while such a strategy works in sporty realms, it's somewhat disappointing when applied to film.

Realistic film anyways, or films that don't experiment with reality. You expect that kind of thing from superheroes but not from real world crime drama. You could argue that therefore The Big Heat presents the unexpected, which can be a positive thing, since it's important to tear down boundaries when considering alternatives.  Sometimes constabulary candour works well in less grandiose environs, but not when the situation requires depth to convincingly deconstruct the big picture.

Still, for a shout out to doing the right thing within the exceptional bounds of the superheroic, The Big Heat and Glenn Ford deliver.

Not without their share of sacrifice.

Not sure if it qualifies as film noir.   

Antigone

Tragedy strikes an immigrant family as their eldest son (Hakim Brahimi as Étéocle) is shot down while protesting his brother's arrest.

His brother (Rawad El-Zein as Polynice) sees what has taken place and responds with violence, adding assaulting a police officer to his crimes, which may lead to his deportation.

Their family bonds are tight and strong, and his sister Antigone (Nahéma Ricci) has a plan, to secure his dauntless release, even if it means she'll have to do time.

Her plan's a success, he escapes, she's arrested, and she settles in at the juvenile detention centre.

Where her brave actions are swiftly called out, in consideration of her brother's transgressions.

She's determined, dedicated, feisty, immutable, her conscience uprightly resolved.

Her partner (Antoine Desrochers as Hémon) fights for her integral freedom.

Stirring up quite the intense media frenzy.

No easy answers in this one.

The classic compelling mind*&%#.

Ethical issues abound as hearts clash in Sophie Deraspe's Antigone, a brilliant reimagining of the play, creatively and controversially brought to life, through the art of aggrieved contemplation.

Antigone's somewhat well-integrated.

She even won a scholarly prize.

She's by the book, constructive, rational, no-nonsense, the film critically absolved by her defiant reserve.

It's puzzling that she takes such risks for a career ne'er-do-well, yet provocative inasmuch as she avails.

The film intermittently interrupts the action with clever feverish pop-cultural analyzes, energetically presenting high octane observations, situating the narrative in the world at large, a broader multicultural context, that expands as the trial gets underway.

It's a convincing drama that excels at realistically depicting youthful and aged antagonisms, clearly in touch with the alternative views, and the ways in which peeps struggle to understand them.

Although Antigone's youthful rebellion ironically upholds old patriarchal schools, a cunning syntheses on behalf of Deraspe, who boldly articulates so many sharp distinctions, without seeming sentimental or preachy.

I'd argue Antigone upholds a great Québecois tradition of crafting rebellious films which make you think, like Mommy, Vic + Flo ont vu un ours, Quand l'amour se creuse un trou, or 1er amour, a unique style that's totally its own, that asks hard questions that have no answer.

But it's in trying to answer them that these films imaginatively assert themselves, as life presents impenetrable codes, as disconcerting as they are enlivening, basking in comprehensive intrigue.

There's no frosty sugar coating.

Just reality, action, dilemmas, mistakes.

Life.

Active living.

Insert The Matrix.

Bewilder.

Godzilla: King of the Monsters

Spoiler alert.

Godzilla continues to freely roam the Earth's oceans, with impunity, and since revealing his monstrous longitude, others like have him have indeed been discovered.

Across the globe, lying dormant in slumbrous isolation, as titanic as they are formidable, yet cute and cuddly if considered in miniature.

Bewilderingly conscripted, rogue environmentalists conjure 12 Monkeys, blending in Riddick's Elementals, to unleash destructive fury.

Environmentalists and scientists less interested in freeing giant monsters to destroy half the planet, challenge them, with the aid of the American armed forces, led by Admiral David Strathairn (Admiral William Stenz).

And after Godzilla is defeated by the 3-headed alpha Monster Zero, they track him to his underwater domain, determined to accelerate his convalescence, as he rests following menacing blows.

Mothra comes to his aid in the end, but the other monsters owe allegiance to his nemesis, and it's unknown who will victoriously prevail, while Earth's best and brightest instinctively speculate.

In Monster Zero's corner lies Dr. Emma Russell (Vera Farmiga), her ex-husband (Kyle Chandler as Mark Russell) backing Godzilla.

The result is as wild as it sounds, complete with mythological vindications.

A cool prehistoric Atlantian civilization is even found deep beneath the ocean's waves, abounding with architectural wonders, depicted as Godzilla's home.

How well does Godzilla: King of the Monsters cultivate its ludicrous blockbustering?, and how successfully does it exhale ridiculousness?

It doesn't lack sincere characters, even if what takes place is incredible.

It seems as if it wants to be taken seriously, although what transpires suggests it's of no concern.

There are a lot of cool comments mixed in with chest-pounds that led me to consistently laugh then shake my head, Bradley Whitford (Dr. Rick Stanton) stealing so many scenes, Ken Watanabe (Dr. Ishiro Serizawa) and Sally Hawkins (Dr. Vivienne Graham) adding sublime depth.

But seriously, weapons of mass destruction are no laughing matter, and shouldn't be used to solve problems, and even if Godzilla thrives on radioactivity, there's always a less explosive alternative.

The monster fights are super badass even if they're interrupted much too frequently.

Kyle Chandler's too much a lot of the time.

Which is kind of perfect for a blockbuster.

With the kitsch factor so high he could have made even more of an impact.

Although that could be saved for other films.

Ramboesque films, in which he wears a bandana.

Co-starring Bradley Whitford.

If King of the Monsters had been less serious, it would have been more ridiculous, which would have been nice, but I suppose it's not a comedy, even though it's the comedic aspects of blockbusters that make them memorable.

Too much woe perhaps.

Very heavy on the woe.

The bad decisions made in response to an overwhelming unknown.

Would world leaders really make decisions that shortsighted if confronted with giant monsters hellbent on destroying one another and/or taking over the planet?

Who's to say?

Pretty crazy new Godzilla movie anyways.

A must see for Godzilla alone.

Avengers: Endgame

Considering the scale of the Marvel films, the mind-boggling number of superheroic narratives Marvel's crafted since Iron Man was released in 2008, the billions of dollars it's made, the bold ways it's used them to pursue social justice, Marvel's still never seemed arrogant, or reckless, or condescending, or unhinged, as if it plays its role in the cinematic continuum with as much wild-eyed innocent wonder as its characters radiate in its films, generally aware of its remarkable capabilities, but constantly challenging itself so they never grow stale, likely afflicted with the same doubts that confront many successful professionals, without letting them take control, without allowing them to dissuade and plunder.

I suppose I often write about how often Marvel releases films, or how many of them there are, but loads of comedy and drama and horror films are released every year; if one fantasy/sci-fi/adventure/action studio is bold enough to expand its boundaries far beyond those ever conceived by its rivals, while delivering generally well-crafted products, perhaps overload transforms into melody, from novelty to pest to pastime, changing the fantasy genre in shocking unprecedented ways, without hubris or controversy, with old school hard work, humility, and commitment.

I've come to love many Marvel characters and it's incredible how many of them there are.

Trying to write a script that includes most of them and still respects their characters is a monumental undertaking overflowing with risk and chaos.

And I thought screenwriters Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely (is that a real name?) did a great job integrating diverse Marvel personalities in Endgame, Ant-Man (Paul Rudd) conversing with Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr.), Rocket (Bradley Cooper) boldly telling it like it is, Thor (Chris Hemsworth) and Quill (Chris Pratt) batting heads without much fallout, Nebula (Karen Gillan) sternly arguing with herself, Thanos (Josh Brolin) not saying much but delivering powerful lines, Captain America (Chris Evans) and his motivational speeches, Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson) keeping the team together, different characters analyzing time travel, a fierce determined Valkyrie (Tessa Thompson) proclaiming, and the Hulk (Mark Ruffalo) emitting concerned humble brilliance.

Others as well.

The dynamics of time travel, or the logical repercussions of the mission the Avengers find themselves on in Endgame, are beyond the scope of this review, but I'll write that Endgame's clever and entertaining from the dismal beginning to the ________ end, with so many cool little moments and only a side of deflating cheese.

In Star Trek, it's always cool when Sarek shows up. How many films and series include Sarek? Yes, Mark Lenard originally played a Romulan.

In Avengers: Endgame it's cool to see around 30 cool characters show up, to highlight what I was getting at earlier.

"You're only a genius on this planet," says Rocket to Iron Man.

"There's beer on the ship," says Rocket to Thor.

Rocket's cheek is pacified after a Captain America speech.

Nebula would have made a great terminator.

The scene during the final battle, when all of Marvel's heroines line up to charge, was really cool, so many different personalities, so much compelling character.

Trying to take all of these characters and situate them in a narrative where the franchise moments are endearing rather than sentimental is a herculean task that seems as if it was handled with ease.

Possibly not handled with ease.

3 hours of endeavour that ties 22 films together.

That's never been done.

Who knows if it will ever be done again.

I even saw it twice.

And loved the poetic final moments.

I guess the series keeps going and this film wasn't released three years later and there's plenty more action to come but no more _________.

That's a huge let down.

Realistic, but still a huge let down.

Be cool to see _______ show up in some Indie films though.

There's no doubt ______ still got it.

And ______ may be sick of playing ye olde action ________.

A spoof would be great too.

How come no one spoofs these films?

There's plenty of material.

Spaceballs was very good.

Overload. Can't compute. Overload. Can't compute.

What a spectacle.

A truly incredible milestone.

It was even better the second time.

Too much, just enough, too little?

I still prefer Star Trek and X-Men.

But Marvel's made some great films.

Which are so much fun to watch.

Is it better to have grown up where Marvel is the norm or to have become accustomed to it after having known a different time?

I can't answer that question.

Crazy time for fantasy films though.

Crazy how much things have changed.

Mission: Impossible - Fallout

The sacrifices Tom Cruise (Ethan Hunt) makes for his Mission: Impossible franchise add an authentic dimension to its outputs that ironically causes them to appear plausible even if they versatilely redefine the extraordinary.

The effort he puts into making these films is incredible.

If you watch a lot of action adventure movies there are times where some of their plots seem quite ridiculous, obviously enough, which is part of the fun assuming the laws of physics aren't utterly ignored, GoldenEye.

If they are utterly ignored you need strong supporting intelligent possibly wacky characters presenting theoretical justifications for the inaccuracies, numerous Star Trek episodes providing fitting instructive examples, man those shows must be fun to write.

But since Mr. Cruise does his own stunts, the impossible seems attainable, the ridiculousness appears rational, and if his character is thought to metaphorically represent high stakes success, however you choose to define it (a small business, exceptional narratives delivered during cruises, a butter tart that knows no equal, a pot of chili), the fact that he does his own stunts synthesizes the imaginary and the realistic in a compelling way that parallels Jackie Chan himself, who would make a wonderful addition to the franchise.

Fallout sees the return of Hunt's dependable team, Benji Dunn (Simon Pegg) and Luther Stickell (Ving Rhames [how can neighbours not recognize Ving Rhames?]) excelling at consistently delivering opposites-platonically-attract-interactions, their characters asking pertinent questions, performing exceptional feats, freely conceptualizing reliability, while indisputably materializing assured structural cool.

Alan Hunley (Alec Baldwin) and Ilsa Faust (Rebecca Ferguson) spicing things up as well.

Fallout presents a solid instalment complete with an intricate constantly evolving embrace of active efficient improvised deconstruction, new personalities (notably Henry Cavill as August Walker and Vanessa Kirby as the White Widow) chaotically introduced to the mayhem, a classic focus on nuclear weapons (fitting for contemporary times) fuelling the intensity, historical romance complicating mission prerogatives, traditional character traits present but not frustratingly exaggerated (a downfall of so many sequels), blunt seemingly foolish observations cloaking discerning intellects, improbable goals pursued regardless of demanding setbacks, level-heads tying everything together in a manner that isn't difficult to stomach (directed by Christopher McQuarrie), the sixth constituent of a franchise focusing too heavily on its own internal dynamics at times.

Make sure each instalment in a franchise simultaneously appeals to fans and people who have never heard of it and you're moving in a Wrath of Khan direction.

Mission: Impossible still hasn't had a Captain America: Civil War or Wrath of Khan moment, but there's still plenty of time.

Fallout's still a motivating thought provoking film that will likely appeal to eager fans along with new recruits unfamiliar with its unique style.

Voluminous aftershocks.

Realistic proofs.

Raw spontaneity.

Damned impressive.

If you want sincerity in an action film, Mission: Impossible distinctly delivers.

Back in the day I thought they'd stop making them after number III.

That was 12 years ago.

Crazy.