Grave of the Fireflies

Soulful siblings emphatic play youthful deliberations innocent slumbers, confused comprehension sabbatical sedge tragic ubiquity wartime horrors.

Bedevilled bombardment continuous clawbacks inherent disaster allied alacrity, weary world warriors destitute dogma dissident delineation fascist fetters.

Lugubrious license paternal pandora receptive relatives unsought isolation, codes unfamiliar stilted routine acute misunderstanding strict dismissal. 

On their own lacking knowledge and networks improvised desperate sincere initiative, what more could kids be expected to do?, expedient acclimation enigmatic envelopment. 

Initial hopeful exotic ingenuity amicable innovation friendly festivities, bullfrog bullion firefly fortitude exceptional courage elusive symbiosis. 

Severe surroundings draconian doppelgäng stubborn psychosis obdurate angst, pervasive paucities widespread famine stoic starvation communal clashes.

Delirious dolomite contagious collocations unconscious impertinence illicit logic, ventriloquist vestige woebegone withering incredulous sacrilege misanthropic morosity.

A beautiful child anxiously awaits newfound necessities enriching food, her not-that-much-older brother passionately engaged in reasonable acquisitions stealthy sacrifice.

What war creates, the miserable endgame the impoverished hopeless collective terror, inconsolable cadence excessive despondency inexhaustible dolorous interminable distress.

Living off wallpaper dismal demarcations wholesale obfuscations stagnant rejuvenation, static progress apocalyptic nadir limitless abeyance inert productivity.

Undisciplined demagogues illustrious rogues hysterical sedition belligerent aggression, decadent dustbowls ritzy aggregate determinant detritus infertile soil.

Grave of the Fireflies presents life and beauty unfortunately mired in incomprehensible visions.

Painstakingly highlighting the miseries of war.

With nature and storytelling.

And blunt discretion. 

*Kids may be too young for this film's hard-hitting message (don't start wars). It's the saddest children's film I've ever seen.

E.T

The decent of an alien spacecraft tantalizingly generates communal interest, but the bold residents arrive too late to wholesomely facilitate freeform greetings. 

The aliens depart quite swiftly yet distressingly leave behind one of their own, who makes his way through the foreign land until he finds homemade random shelter.

A young lad left out of the games enthusiastically played by his brother and friends, soon locates the courageous alien but his story is disbelieved.

Not that long after he manages to bring the chill integral extraterrestrial, back inside his lodgings to stay thus until alternative arrangements can be made.

He doesn't mention the new friendship to his mom but his older brother and younger sister soon find out, and they make quite the chillaxed team as they interactively explore different dimensions. 

Soon the young boy who found him discovers they share a special bond, that he can feel what his alien friend feels as he goes about his inquisitive business.

But the powers that be have also taken note and know that a being from space is hiding.

And take obnoxious steps to invasively find him.

While untethered youth bridges fascination. 

Childhood dreams congenially manifested as heartfelt amicable friendship blossoms, and the spirited exuberance of youngsters at play invariably illustrates fun and mischief.

Animal integrity viscerally shines through as attempts to dissect frogs go haywire, and the dynamic amphibians emphatically escape from cold and calculated experimentation. 

I wonder if that scene has left a lasting impression on public schooling, I know I never had to dissect frogs in class, perhaps it was like that elsewhere in North America?

E.T celebrates the wonders of life as the gentle alien makes things grow, he or she possesses the miraculous gift to exotically encourage spontaneous regeneration. 

There's something to be said for lighthearted science-fiction that generously concerns itself with freeflowing life, and isn't intently focused on conflict even one of the authorities takes a shine to Elliot. 

Elsewhere, to see Spielberg's genius at work, when Elliot's mom first meets E.T she's holding a cup of coffee.

You'd expect her to drop that cup and for it to smash on the floor.

But Spielberg has her pour the coffee slowly down on the ground instead.

To outwit expectations.

I imagine it's still a must-see.

**Did you know that E.T, Star Trek II, Blade Runner, and John Carpenter's The Thing all came out in the same summer? That's gotta be the best sci-fi summer ever. What a time to be a budding young film buff! 

Ferris Bueller's Day Off

The incorrigible urge the inexhaustible dilemmas audaciously fuelling insurmountable daring, as reflexively situated albeit within imaginative unorthodox compelling gambits.

A day off school intuitively organized with intricate planning and demonstrative skill, mom and dad effectively falling for the ornate scheme with adorable generous loving compassion.

What to do with a full day off while others work and study and research, it's no doubt time to hit the town with creative friends and a wild agenda?!

Word spreads of the distressing illness and communal sympathy encouragingly erupts, as the sights and sounds of versatile Chicago fill a day's fortunes with laidback exception.

But the administration adamantly refuses to obligingly believe the open-minded story, and sets out on a mad concentrated obsessed unyielding quest to locate the lad.

His sister also remains furious after their admiring parents react empathetically.

Emancipated vision.

Holistic embrace.

Freeform lackadaisics. 

Festive revelry.

This was my favourite of the John Hughes films so widely popular in my youth, the nutso envisioning of rebellious fluency exceedingly inclined to diligently chill.

The first 30 minutes are an imaginative treat as Hughes skilfully plays with different narrative styles, and commandingly showcases alternative techniques which are highly advanced and correspondingly influential.

Critics of the time were rather dismissive and I didn't figure out why until I hit my late thirties, but my youthful admiration won out in the end as I dismissed my uptight less-mesmerized evaluations (Rooney goes way too far, it's tough to believe an academic would behave that way).

Matthew Broderick delivers the performance of a lifetime and charismatically shines in the title role, Alan Ruck also memorably concocting they both still show up in movies 40 years later.

Mia Sara, Jennifer Grey, Edie McClurg, and Jeffrey Jones impress as well. 

Much more than just kids skipping school.

A unique exhilarating celebration of life!

Jacquot de Nantes

A young experimental film enthusiast concentrates on vivid storytelling, having instantaneously been mesmerized by the first live puppet show he went to see.

Growing up in Nantes in France with loving parents in a lively neighbourhood, his imagination roamed far and wide while often focused on the cinema.

Family life embraced the trades since his father owned a bustling garage, and wanted his son to become a mechanic and learn his catechism and keep things real.

Little Jacquot hesitantly obliged since he wasn't as rebellious as some, but still worked on creative independent films alone at night in their humble attic.

His mother and father had to admit that he had real talent when he showcased his films, every meticulous minuscule detail having been delicately crafted.

World War II breaks out and the family is briefly torn apart, dad working in a shell-factory by day, the children moving to the countryside at times.

But Jacquot never stops creating nor watching films with heartfelt awe.

Eventually directing agile tales. 

As part of the French New Wave.

Jacquot de Nantes proceeds with loving candour as it romantically illustrates its subject, dynamically directed by Jacque's wife the incredibly talented Agnès Varda.

She carefully links his active childhood with laidback material from his films, first imagining how the moments might have taken place before showing them depicted on the silver screen. 

Jacques Démy himself also comments to add more depth to the bold filmography, his poignant insights generating layers of intricate exuberant narrative detail.

Captivating to see a sincere exhibition of a thoughtful artist and his breathtaking work, lovingly shot by another auteur who genuinely loved him with innocent tenderness.

I've never seen one of his films which is a shortcoming I'll have to remedy. 

Such knowledge.

Such wild inspiration. 

Peacefully blossoming.

Limitless and free.

Four Christmases

Vacation plans imperceptibly tantalizing quickly approaching festive holiday breaks, time to spend relaxed and stretched out elaborately elongated upright tenements. 

Traditional visits to old school loved ones siblings and family and nieces and nephews, incrementally harmonizing habitual happenstance gregarious growth uproarious sentiments.

But some imaginative couples creatively manifest alternative arrangements, to sneakily avoid the routine remonstrance and inconsolable awkward confabulations.

To Fiji they furtively plan to gallopingly go sans limitations, to lazily bask in freeflowing sustainable enriching waters immersive acclamations. 

Yet when they reach the airport on Christmas Day in fact no less, ominous fog discourteously blankets the surrounding skies with opaque languor. 

To further frustrate their Scroogey mendacity a local news station suddenly broadcasts them live, their relatives witnessing the distressing surprising grouchy exchanges on their televisions. 

Soon it's off therefore to reminisce with emboldened blood and the next generation.

Neither member of the couple prepared. 

For what they're soon to learn about one another. 

Immaculate bliss once exceptionally adorning their perpetual ensconcement in each other's arms, far away from the orthodox torments unsettlingly facilitating unrestrained fury.

They are quite different people leading quite different lives from different points of view, but does that hardboiled multivariable eclectivity not also inspire romantic love!?

The film did seem dialectically dis/oriented to either champion or lampoon family, synthesizing the divergent concepts throughout with varying degrees of symphonic success. 

Was the spirit of Christmas beatifically bound to bring them wholesomely together, to optimistically unite, to generously generate raw animate excursions fluidly fuelled with maladroit mallow?

Offbeat ridicule flamboyant caprice rambunctious sincerity disconsolate diatribes, randomly revolving with road weary rubber gallantly peppered through a hard day's night.

Unpredictable fanciful variety.

At home for the frosty holidays.

Eggnog and shortbread and willow.

Endless timeless specials!

The Prince of Egypt

Misjudged the title of this one.

I thought it was going to present an old school Egyptian tale, one that I'd never heard before, and offer insights into the culture that definitively flourished for agile millennia (I'm curious and I don't know that much about it).

Obviously that wasn't the case and The Prince of Egypt is in fact Moses, and the film examines the famous Exodus that led the Jewish people to new lands.

I was still surprised to see a cartoon showcasing such a revered and solemn tale, with animated pluck and illustrated mischief not grim and stately sombre discord.

Moses is a bit of a punk and habitually revels at play within, causing great disturbances as he teases Ramses who may inherit the civilization.

Ramses is worried because his absolutist father isn't quite so sure he would govern wisely, that he may be too soft indeed to effectively administrate something so vast and historically imposing.

Moses assures him he'll be okay before running into his actual family, who left him freely cast adrift on the fertile Nile so long ago.

Upon discovering his Hebrew roots Moses reacts with sympathy and compassion, for an enslaved people sincerely struggling to maintain balance and upbeat order. 

He leaves his life at the palace behind and takes up their cause with concerted gusto, notably after God commands him to nimbly help his struggling overlooked and crippled subjects.

I don't mind interpretive takes on biblical legends postmodernly accentuated, the literal accounts and associated stories often coming across as far too dull.

In an age of multivariable invention is it not crucial to flexibly adapt, and even embrace alternative interpretations reflexively recharacterizing biblical myths?

When I consider that Moses parted the Red Sea for instance and I imagine it through a parliamentary lens, it's as if the centre-left-red wanted the Hebrews to remain in Egypt, and at one time the far-left-red agreed with them.

But then Moses's messianic savvy was able to convince the more compassionate far-left-red otherwise, and as the red politicians at large debated his clever points, the Jewish people escaped emergent and free (the government wasn't paying attention because it was arguing so much).

It actually sounds a lot cooler with the sea being parted by a sympathetic God.

But is that the only way the story can be told?

For a God, wouldn't it be boring? 

Chez les beaux parents

The tender affection delicately shared between the loving members of a heartfelt couple, routinely generating awestruck accolades through the nimble art of jocose spontaneity. 

Living together in New York Sophie cooks and Gordon teaches, their sturdy union a fluid cascade bearing versatile witness to collective enchantments. 

She's an exceptional chef and one day her ex appears out of the ethereal blue, to offer her a coveted position managing food services at the Château Frontenac.

She has to compete for the job but since her family lives close by, she'll be able to re-establish contact and spend cherished hours ensconced à la ferme.

Gordon is up for the challenge and generally supportive of his partner's endeavours, although when he discovers that Sophie and her potential new boss were once lovers, he responds with critical animation.

The challenge goes well it crucially seems like the brilliant chef may land the position.

The family farm still in financial jeopardy. 

Gordon increasingly unable to stay cool.

I never spent much time reading great romantic works of fiction, or even paperback melodramas effectively disseminating romantic visions.

Romance does immaterially blossom in many classic science-fiction films however, technologically endowed on interplanetary scales intergalactically inclined to diplomatically blossom.

Chez les beaux parents presents an alternative style of Québecois filmmaking, an international collaboration no less with prominent filmmakers from the United States.

It's not Babysitter or Mommy or Tom à la ferme or Quand l'amour se creuse un trou, it's something much more tame more zoological more glad-handing more mainstream.

It's not that it doesn't mean well or that it doesn't try to incorporate more rugged scenarios.

Which probably worked for many people who saw the film.

Who most likely loved it.

Don't listen to me.

The filmmakers still love Québec and that's plainly evident throughout the film.

And I can't critique such ingenious preferences. 

Especially on an international scale. 

Echo à Delta

A loving family convivially engaged routinely embraces lighthearted mischief, as the weeks fly by and the seasons change their open-minded dedication blooms and burgeons.

Two brothers not far apart in age have made several friends in the verdant bower, biking ensemble from home base to fort to local business to mysterious grotto.

They're close and the curious younger instinctively relies on their frequent discourse, the elder affably accommodating the resultant pair a tenacious tandem.

Aliens engender fascination as they astrologically consider the heavens, with dynamic multi-faceted individuals in gleeful possession of agile technology.

Said fascination doesn't go too far, but does lead them outside one evening, where they boldly attempt to make first contact upon a shed in a frightening rainstorm.

Hours later, the bewildered Echo confoundedly awakes in a nearby hospital, only to be told that his brother has disappeared and that he's lucky to be seated on solid ground.

As the days pass he becomes increasingly more and more exhaustively convinced, that his brother was abducted by aliens and that one day soon he'll suddenly return.

People entertain and wilfully assist as he continues the search for his missing bro.

The adults worried yet rationally uncertain how to impersonally yet endearingly proceed.

It's not as sad if you fall for the quest the uninhibited search for the missing brother, seen through the eyes of a caring young one tenderly obsessed with otherworldly potential.

Conspiracies enchant, the Men in Black must have egregiously influenced psychologists and parents, and painstakingly hid the distressing truth with extraterrestrial distressing hypocrisy. 

Non-traditional role models unsure of themselves efficaciously emerge (with Dickensian gusto), while upbeat friends lithely aid the search with friendly worthwhile upbeat slipstream.

He misses his buddy so much it's eventually tragic and tearfully driven.

Confused youth.

Unyielding capacity.

Doggonit daydreams.

Swathen willow.

Pather Panchali

A loving mother wants the best for her children but is desperately obsessed with her remorseless poverty, her dreamer husband slow to provide or clearly understand her protracted woe.

There's no thought of her working herself or finding a way to help make ends meet, the ancient code governing village life definitively maintaining strict gender roles.

Her children enjoy playing in the countryside and modestly excel through recourse to laughter, education not prominent in that part of the country, the children relying on friends and family.

But they're also jealous of their friend's possessions especially when the sweet purveyor walks by, at times leading to their mother's embarrassment as they naturally seek the good things in life.

I really felt for their mom as she despondently waits for her husband to get paid, and he dreams and he dreams and he dreams while his house falls apart and there's nothing to eat.

It's ok to sit back and dream but it's much more convenient when your wife also works, and isn't stuck sitting at home all day with nothing to do while her neighbours deride her.

Could you imagine having no recourse and having to wait months to have money to spend, while your children ran wild in the jungle and the neighbourhood lampooned your lack of wealth?

Open up the inclusive workforce and maximize opportunity for everyone willing.

Her husband's no doubt a cool guy.

But fails to empathize with her situation.

Pather Panchali isn't all doom and gloom it's also full of innocent pluck and tenacity, complete with multiple extended scenes celebrating the joys of childhood and playtime.

I would recommend leaving Disney behind for a weekend and giving this film a try, along with El espíritu de la colmena (The Spirit of the Beehive), El Sur, and E.T, that would make for an exceptional film day.

Dickens also seems to be creatively influencing the compassionate film and perhaps Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay's novel, the close focus on delicious food for instance (it's fun to pig out after he describes food), or the inclusion of chill and offbeat characters like Auntie (who reminded me of Mr. Dick in David Copperfield).

Its moderate pace also captures village life as it gradually progresses from season to season.

Moments like how cool it is when you see your first train.

An intense sudden rainfall. 

An improvised chase.

*Criterion keyword - resplendent. 

Hôhokekyo tonari no Yamada-kun (My Neighbors the Yamadas)

Difficult to critique a Ghibli so let's try the following context:

It's possible that Hôhokekyo tonari no Yamada-kun (My Neighbors the Yamadas) was made for television, it does resemble many of the homely afterschool specials I watched in my youth, with an ordinary family doing ordinary things while at times engaging in bold acts of daydreaming.

It seems like it would meet with ecumenical approval amongst various churches across the land, even though it's irreligious culturally speaking, its awkward examination of a traditional family still likely to be lauded by worldwide censors.

Simultaneously, it generally concerns itself with hokey materialistic conundrums (obvious issues that arise between people trying to co-habitate), meaning that it also would have likely met with the applause of the Politburo. 

The film is kind of like sitting through church and singing along with the canonized hymns, which don't motivate like jazz or pop yet still make you feel constructive and communal nevertheless.

If looking for a film hoping to keep couples together, Hôhokekyo tonari no Yamada-kun functions like a televisual minister, and uses age old quotidian examples to exoterically dissuade any thoughts of divorce.

Grandma's kind of funny at times, as she routinely airs her grievances, like the feisty grandmother from The Garfield Christmas Special, proud and determined to defend her utterances.

The animation is different from the other Ghiblis I've seen and is oddly much more like Beavis & Butt-head. It must have been a popular style at that time. I was a bit surprised to see something similar in a Ghibli.

It's strange how the films to be approved of by totalitarian theocracies or communist states, are both so incredibly unappealing if you don't find yourself forced to applaud them. 

You would think that in 100 years the Soviets would have produced more than one Elem Klimov, something to look into I suppose, religious traditions not faring much better (there's also Tarkovsky).

Nonetheless, if you find yourself living under such a regime and you want to produce something that won't get you shot, you could use Hôhokekyo tonari no Yamada-kun as a working example, as you curse your historical epoch.

Can't public well-being and the postmodern consciousness not spiritually blend through environmental metamorphosis?

Isn't that what's happening this Summer!

With so many Northern Lights.

It's a natural trend!

City of Hope

It's difficult to rationally consider the various levels of corruption guiding commerce and politics, as proactively delineated by so many commentators throughout the observant course of a vigilant day.

In a two to three/four/five/six party political system the argumentative opponents spend so much time accusing their rivals of corruption, at times the party that seems the lease corrupt emerging victorious how do you lead such a populace retroactively?

In Claudius the God the Emperor Claudius runs into sincere difficulties, not because his colleagues are particularly corrupt but because he is rather just and innocent.

Having spent most of his life observing the government in fluidic motion, even though he had always been judged too dim-witted to actively take part, he survived plot after plot after plot through reasonable supposition and a complete lack of envy.

But his goal was to do away with Emperors and re-establish what was known as the Republic, a form of government less reliant on absolutism and much more democratic and fair and reasonable.

Nevertheless, since, as Emperor, he governs as honestly as he can and indeed turns out to be a trustworthy administrator, the people stop loathing the idea of Emperors as they had under Tiberius and Caligula, and stop imagining a return of the Republic.

To remind them of their folly he hatches one of his most poorly thought out schemes.

The Republic doesn't return.

And his son is murdered.

But films aren't as detailed as books or mini-series, it's difficult to convincingly relate stories of political corruption in less than 3 hours, there are so many personalities from different walks of life to be provocatively considered as the narrative progresses.

Love and family will likely even factor into the manifold intricacies as they passionately fluctuate, but who falls in love and what consequent jealousies effectively motivate resulting dire complications?

It's too much for a lot of filmmakers but always respected if bravely undertaken, John Sayles succeeding with City of Hope more than most as the multivariable tale examines multi-layered corruption.

Multiple storylines complement within as sundry characters seek balance and decorum, or just ride the chaotic whirlwind with as much distinction as they can freely muster.

The image for the inherent madness materially erupting as people search for meaning, is distressingly manifested by a local schizophrenic after a powerful contractor's son is shot by his new girlfriend's jealous cop ex-husband, and he calls out into the street for help, and no one else is listening.

The disturbed man returns his plea with sympathetic non-sensical enigmatic cries.

Not the most constructive image to end on.

But one that does make sense a lot of the time.

The Newton Boys

A struggling family rambunctiously lives off the wild beaten track in the candlelit country, 4 boys with 2 in prison their mom understanding yet still withdrawn.

One of the more ambitious siblings finds himself released one fortuitous day, and makes his way home where he collegially meets two other businesspeople engrossed in scheming. 

They soon a rob a bank thinking the sheriff won't seek them out if they give him a cut, two of them escaping to trade in their loot with a corrupt bank manager in another small town. 

The manager gives them a coveted list of sought after banks with particular safes, which one of them happens to be an expert in cracking, fluidly at ease with ye olde nitroglycerine. 

Things go well, they come up with a plan to only rob banks at night and avoid confrontation, the other brothers, The Newton Boys, soon freely enlisting in the lucrative cause.

Bank insurance is a recent phenomenon so they don't feel guilty for heuristically heisting.

Emphatically engaged with calamitous caution.

Even making their way to Canada.

The ingenious idea to proceed at nighttime to avoid gruesome bloodshed wins hearts and minds, and likely convinced concerned officials that they weren't quite as ruthless as they may have seemed.

It's a tightly-knit bunch habitual disputes between grouchy brothers largely absent, the 4 getting along rather well and even risking everything when one of them's injured.

I suppose that's the cuneiform key form a trusted group and take care of one another, never forget pressing mutual interests nor lose sight of collective goals.

Steer clear of the big score as well they were exceptionally dealing with obscure transactions. 

In search of millions they decisively falter.

Tantalizing fever pitch emboldenment. 

Cool soundtrack if you like lucid banjos and panachy pianos from a different time.

One of them even makes it to 90.

Not freakin' bad.

For such a rough life.

The Iron Claw

I've never really been that concerned. 

In The Iron Claw, the determined father employs strict uncompromising codes, to drive his children to pursue excellence and become prominent exceptional wrestlers.

They do experience a lot of success and the family becomes well-known and respected.

But the lack of compassion and blunt disappointment leads to habitual shock and dismay.

One brother, driven by high expectations, refuses to see a doctor when he becomes quite ill. He has to keep up appearances to become world champion. And unfortunately dies in his hotel room.

The 4 brothers love their father but he's a cold and stubborn man, who refuses to embrace even harmless emotions as he drives his children to become the best.

As they strive to superlatively improve they're totally reliant on his admiration, as well as each other and their mom but they seek his attention in the cloistered enclave.

But he judges seeking attention as weak which leads to genuine familial dysfunction. 

Two sons even take their own lives.

One still resiliently soldiers on.

My dad wasn't Mr. Affection but he wasn't a prick either. And he was proud of what I was doing. And let it show from time to time.

In regards to competition, I have to admit that I'm heavily influenced by Fish: The Surfboard Documentary. Within, a talented surfer loses a competition and points out that he felt awful because he lost, even though he had performed exceptionally well. He therefore stopped taking part in future competitions because they made him feel awful.

That makes a lot of sense to me and most likely millions of others.

The Iron Claw's a cool critical examination of sport.

In the end championing the human factor. 

Just gotta note if the strategy's working.

If it ain't, there's alternative options.

Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom

Cool takeaways from Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom:

The story takes Global Heating seriously with the hopes of convincing nations around the world to do the same. It actually employs an even more destructive way to heat up the planet, in order to remind us that our current industrial endeavours lack sustainable foresight, the reckless burning of an ancient ore which is extremely toxic and highly volatile, it's actually burned to speed up Global Heating, and melt Antarctica to free an ancient king (it's Antarctica week!).

Cool to see action/adventure films taking environmental issues seriously. I think we can clean up contemporary industry. Not overnight but in the foreseeable future.

Interesting to see ye olde Antarctica feature heavily in another narrative. It would be so much fun to explore. The ancient secrets of an archaeological lifetime (I don't want the planet to heat to the point where it melts, but it will probably melt naturally someday, perhaps millions of years from now, and it would be cool to be there then).

The Sahara is also featured near the beginning when Aquaman has to break his brother out of prison, the jail residing beneath the enormous desert, a forbidding place for people of the sea.

Reminding us that it used to once be an imposing ocean, it collegially harmonizes with atemporal infinities, thereby highlighting the present's transitory nature, which makes it all the more enticing.

I've heard that in many countries around the world people like to eat bugs, and it's something I'd like to try, even though my initial reaction may be somewhat shocking, assuming they're healthy, hey, why not? Aquaman takes a comic look at the phenomenon perhaps to usher in new culinary trends. They do seem like a limitless food source. But how do they work with vegetarianism? 

Aquaman loves his family which I thought was cool to see, he isn't too busy running his kingdom to spend time with his newborn child. He wants to be there and genuinely cares which made me think of dad when I was growing up. Things don't always work out but it's no doubt cool when they effectively do.

At one point flares are shot into the air to light up the sombre surroundings, and they almost look like constellations when they explode. I thought it would have been cool if they had been Australasian constellations indeed to pyrotechnically salute Antarctica etc., that would be cool if artists could do that with actual fireworks as well.

I understand Aquaman's frustrations with just trying to quickly get 'er done. It's so much easier to work on your own and make your own decisions as they suit your circumstances. But councils and parliaments do provide lucid oversight that prevents tyrants from recklessly governing. One emperor may be wise and just like Augustus Caesar/Aquaman. But who knows when you'll wind up with Caligula/Orm?

And I was worried that dynamic whale-kind had been overlooked in the versatile script, since they didn't show up for freakin' ever and much of the story takes place underwater. Just wait for it, even if you don't like fantasy films, if you like whales I'm sure you'll love the scene. It actually relates to the ways in which the noise from human technology is disturbing marine life around the globe. Giving such life an opportunity to fight back!

Solid whale representation!

Plus, amazing octopus representation (ban octopus farming!).

A fun film to watch. 

Jason Momoa puts on a good show.

The Adults

A close family constructively enjoys a creative childhood dynamically engaged, during which characters and acts and plays are imaginatively shared with receptive audiences. 

The two older siblings have an unspoken rivalry but the youngest generously co-exists, angelically posturing with unselfish sincerity she forges a bridge between the feuding duo. 

As time moves on, and their parents pass, the brother packs his things and leaves one day, their tightened bonds tritely cast aside as he travels the country playing poker and working.

Unable to process his hard-pounding grief he stays away for many a year, hardly calling and showing little interest in the resourceful sisters who made up his home.

But one remorseful soul-searching day he decides to return with undetermined intention, certainly to play poker with ye old school friends, still genuinely curious about his family's goings on.

The older sister who had to embrace responsibility after their mother's passing to save the house, isn't exactly pleased to see him when he suddenly shows up having never lent a hand.

To make things worse he strictly divides his precious free time between family and poker, heading out to intense games in the evenings, sleeping late, and vouchsafing afternoons. 

A habitually logical man attempting to abide by rational guidelines, who once embraced artistic endeavours, must consciously manifest spirit. 

Or suffer cataclysmic austere dissonance.

The Adults perhaps adding a hands-on French touch.

It seems to respect Band à part anyways with random inspired improvised dancing, not sure if that was just a coincidence or an intertextual shout out to independent hommage. 

The film excels at patiently observing the unpleasant difficulties associated with maturity, and the inherent frustrating cold calculated reckoning attributed to derivatives and distant dividends. 

As he slowly comes to realize he's somewhat of an artist playing real world at times, the film warms up and becomes more cute and cuddly, not without pressure and argument and confrontation.

Brought together through soulful reminiscence times creatively conjuring collective cohesion.

Adulthood having presented a lasting challenge.

Stronger united.

To non-traditionally age. 

The Flash

If I could travel through time I know precisely where I'd go. I'd find the name of the Captain who found the secret ocean hideaway of the eels, and discover a way to steer his ship off course, before the fateful day when he ecstatically fractured.

Before then, eels had a great thing going on, who would have guessed anyone would ever find them, far off in the middle of the ocean, their realm safe for thousands of millennia (it's technically more like salmon if I remember correctly, they return to a spot in the Atlantic every year where they breed, and then head out once again). 

However, the Flash discovers he can travel through time in a recent film bearing his name, and after he voyages to the past to save his mom, the world he once knew is changed forever.

Not technically changed forever, he can continue to travel through time to fix it, but it's kind of like the Kurtwood Smith two part episode of Star Trek: Voyager, Year of Hell, you can constantly alter time, but never find a perfect match for what you once knew (it's a cool episode).

It's also kind of like Marvel's Spider-Man: No Way Home where the different franchises merge as one, as the Flash enters an alternate reality where Michael Keaton still plays Batman.

For those of us who are rather annoyed when studios find new actors to play familiar characters, rather than sticking with the favourites their fans know and love, this mélange is quite intriguing, or at least it is to me anyways. 

Perhaps in an alternate timeline eels themselves have superpowers, and are capable of breathing on land, a defensive armada sinking any ship which approaches their lair!

With the Flash D.C takes on the Multiverse as well in death-defying multilateral fashion, as they also did in Everything Everywhere All at Once, and Star Trek: The Next Generation's Parallels.

I've started to wonder about stray thoughts about the bizarro contemplations that occur from time to time, it's okay because they're just random thoughts right?, but what if they exist in another dimension!?

Contemporary science seems a long ways off from definitively answering that question, although I have stumbled upon another cool book idea, without ever having meant to do so.

Are coincidences like The Flash's special moments which occur regardless in every single timeline, a point that doesn't make much sense when logically scrutinized, especially considering intuitive mutation.

The multiverse makes for compelling fiction nevertheless disputed points harnessing its synthetic prowess.

To narrativize exponentially.

Without losing limitless oceanic sights.  

*I actually had two coincidences on a walk today. I was thinking about how it was nice to see a fisher last year, but how I would have rather seen chipmunks and red squirrels regularly (they were absent from the forest for much of the year). Then I suddenly saw a red squirrel, which was cool. Around here I don't see them that often. Then I was thinking about making a smoothie and my thoughts strayed to ye olde Booster Juice. After which I immediately saw a Booster Juice bottle on the path. I was surprised, arrived home, made a smoothie.

Athena

A chilling video is released depicting police violence in an unsettled town, where tensions run high and misperceptions embroil as many hardworking people just try to earn a steady living.

A noted family takes opposing sides after it's announced their brother was murdered, Abdel (Dali Benssalah), a celebrated war her who works for the police, urging calm, Karim (Sami Slimane), his volatile younger sibling, suddenly erupting with insurgent fury.

He leads a group of friends into a local police station which they ransack, taking the weapons back to an apartment complex where they prepare for a wild confrontation.

The police show up in force as similar uprisings break out around France, people tired of the reckless violence taking matters into their own chaotic hands.

But it soon becomes apparent that the video was staged by sadistic members of the belligerent far right.

Attempting to start a race war to further their mad agenda (with Google's Magic Eraser?).

Easily facilitated by the lack of oversight on social media. 

It's a disastrous grim scenario hypothetically engaged with extremist tensions, that points out the necessity of police restraint, and the overarching danger of unhinged fake news.

The news is much more healthy in a widespread differentiated spectrum, where sundry journalists are committed to the truth and manifold independent papers fact check ad infinitum. 

In Canada, Bell Media just cut another 4,800 jobs from its shrinking mainstream newsroom, meaning even fewer people with be responsible for the official news, the smaller the number, the greater room for error. 

And as a lack of trust emerges it's much harder to follow a small minority viewpoint, which indubitably pursues its own interests, the news should be expanding, not contracting.

It is expanding online with another 4,800 people now looking for work, some of the them may have to criticize vaccines or promote electoral fraud to pay the bills, hopefully not, but those stories aren't going away.

Athena takes a hard-hitting look at the inherent dangers of provocative intrigue, and the ways in which honest hard-working citizens have their lives torn asunder by base collusion.

Fact check your sources and be patient sometimes it takes a while for a story to unfold.

There are new media outlets currently blossoming who still respect the truth as their modus operandi (like the National Observer)(nothing associated with Trump). 

Note: they aren't trying to start a race war.

And they can take it when they lose an election.

*Athena is the best film I've seen so far on Netflix. Super impressed for sure. It could have played theatres no doubt. And found a huge receptive audience (like it probably has on Netflix too). 

The Croods

Ancient times, as one oft referenced environmental epoch matriculately metastasizes into another, a family left endeavouring to sensationally survive within, as massive earthquakes and catastrophic rock slides cataclysmically converge to destroy their oldest school cave dwelling, they flee together as one, always bearing in mind their familial solidarity.

Change is definitively critiqued and infuriatingly avoided by the Croods, who have bluntly outlasted their fellow citizens through courageous pluck and dynastic brawn.

But their eldest daughter (Emma Stone as Eep) seeks challenge and novelty and starts striking out from their cave on her own, accidentally meeting an inventive beau (Ryan Reynolds as Guy) who lives independently within the harsh lands.

They become further acquainted after her family departs for the unknown realm, where father Grug's (Nicolas Cage) dependable hunting skills have no time to adapt to the mysterious wonders.

Used to being the unparalleled patriarch he must suddenly intuit a secondary role, Borg implants still millions of years off, frustration and anger therefore materializing.

Yet landscape shifts and paradigmatic upheavals expediently necessitate hierarchical improvisation.

His family still relying on his strength.

As their world crashes in all around them.

I'm not sure how we evolved or multivariably mutated over the course of millions of years, even if sci-fi suggests we emerged from practical interactive interminglings. 

Thus, humanoids from another planet who had thoroughly destroyed their world, crash-landed on ours thinking survival would be simple considering their vast hospitable technologies.

But arriving somewhere lacking the infrastructure to even produce a nail or screw, they soon found themselves at the mercy of local populations who already knew how to formidably survive.

Some resisted the acculturation and sought to remain pure and independent (the Malfoys), while many others realized the benefits of interspecial co-habitation and set about cultivating their mutual prosperity (the Potters). 

Hence, to this postmodern day a mix of the caveperson and the alien still resides, within every culture across the land, producing a wide mix of compelling variety.

And the ancient puritan incestuous impulses still blindly guide at other times as well, even millions of restitutive years later the same fear of change and innovation flourishing.

Nevertheless, somewhere hidden upon the globe lies the ancient remains of those original spacecrafts!

Could they be the first cohesive multicultural evidence?

Still collaboratively resonating to this very day!

Family Switch

The title's misleading. 

The rebellious self-obsessed years during which curiosity is severely criticized, and traditional wholesome old school activities condescendingly dismissed with haughty verisimilitude. 

The resultant antithetical shockwaves producing unsettling bland confusion, as festive recourse to playful jocosity sincerely struggles amidst the pretension. 

It's the Holiday Season in High School and the Walker Family is bitterly composed, having lost the communicative cohesion that once underscored their familial unity.

Mom's (Jennifer Garner) got a big presentation and daughter CC (Emma Myers) might make the national soccer team, Wyatt's (Brady Noon) hoping to get into Yale and his father's (Ed Helms) band has a unique opportunity.

Usually, the power of Christmas would unflinchingly aid their courageous misadventures, and by harnessing the spirit of the season they would proceed confident and emboldened. 

The unextinguished light fails to constructively guide them however.

Until they stop by a local observatory.

Where corporeal mischief interpersonally accrues.

Given the flamboyant opportunity to craft ebullient effervescent dreams, Family Switch's yuletide extravagance lucidly facilitates transmutation.

It's more like Die Hard nevertheless, more like a movie that takes place at Christmas, the Holiday Season popping up from time to time but by no means the predominant focus.

The otherworldly transformations seemed a bit too studio as well, as if an eccentric mystical expert wasn't consulted when shooting the scenes.

A missed opportunity: when the neighbourhood wives show up and start grilling CC and Wyatt, who are stuck in their mom and dad's bodies, individual criticisms are shared. But without accompanying close ups (think the end of Crocodile Dundee). The focus thus remains on CC and Wyatt. If each individual criticism had been announced with its own striking close up, the collegial balance between supporting and principal actors would have been more universally sustained. 

Part of the narrative directly celebrates teamwork so the point is eventually made. There's actually a lot of cool in this film. They put a lot of time and effort into it (try and find like 6 Christmas films or films that take place at Christmas to watch, some of them don't attempt to excel that much).  

I thought the acting improved a lot after the body switches and the actors starting pretending to play someone else 😜, I don't know if that was intentional, but the secondary characteristic investments paid imaginative dividends. 

I also thought it made a lot of clever points about family, and was thoughtfully designed to bring disgruntled folks back together during the holidays without being too preachy or overbearing.

Director McG should score points for ensuring the cast and crew took things really seriously.

The cast and crew should score multiplie points for creating a year round Christmas film. 

Even without the mind-blowing mysticism. 

Christmas in California.

Worth checkin' out. 

Bullet Train

What a strange film.

There's no doubt it's well done. It seems the more critics lambaste gratuitously violent films, the more clever and entertaining they become, consistently challenging their audiences to duel with themselves as they come to reckless terms with their own narrative preferences. 

Bullet Train even interweaves Thomas the Tank Engine, as a paid assassin uses its inherent lessons to frame and construct his sociocultural views, a tender embrace no doubt endearing as he shoots his way through the chaotic frenzy, even sharing the most violent sequence from the film as he and his brother argue about how many people they took out during their most recent job, their dispute graphically and reminiscently depicted, it's insane, it's just insane.

Another nice guy with a gift for killing shares his therapist's advice throughout, and consistently attempts to talk rather than fight, his wise complaints neither brokered nor adhered to.

Überviolent psychological brainy dramatic comedies are no doubt a 21st century speciality, it's clear decades of vertical mutation have enhanced their intricate design, but are there not consequences to such manifestations?

Most people know the difference between psycho film and playful reality, and don't turn into bellicose beasts just because they saw a violent movie.

But you often hear about mass shootings in the States, so you have to wonder if permitting your populace to purchase multivariable assault weapons, while idealizing mass unattainable wealth, and then constantly showcasing brilliant and hilarious violent films, is not a seriously bad idea, even if you're making billions (are hundreds of millions not enough?).

Take away the mass availability of assault weapons and the mass shootings decrease proportionately, borrowing stats from Bowling for Columbine, and the distressing onslaught that's proceeded unabated since.

Then nerd men can get back to thematically impressing nerd women with their bombastic theatrics, and the next generation of eccentric children can constructively flourish in the librarial thunderground.

It's always the same story. ⛄

If your culture isn't prone to routine psychotic outbursts furiously unleashed on the unsuspecting public, and films like this one are reserved for more mature audiences who like gangster movies, Bullet Train is somewhat of a masterpiece, which still goes a bit overboard.

What would The Godfather or Scarface (1983) have been like if they'd been released at a later date?

They still seem a lot more profound.

And it's clear that they're not comedies.