Transformers One

Tough and experimental young friends resiliently attuned to calisthenic mischief, bored with their jobs and inherently curious about the political composure of their planet's temperament. 

They work in the mines digging for energon without the requisite cogs which enable transforming, carefree and dreamy yet brave and self-sacrificing they function with enterprising inquisitive accolades. 

Yet as their heroics win them applause their planet's adored leader isn't quite so impressed, indirectly banishing them to an unheard of sub-level where they find themselves managing disregarded waste.

Appropriately, after making new friends, they soon courageously travel to their planet's surface, in search of the long lost matrix of leadership, the location of which may have been revealed.

Further distress despondently awaits them in the inhospitable lands terrorized above, as the treacherous nature of their belovéd leader is freely showcased by a legendary warrior.

To inform their brethren that they were meant to have cogs and that their tireless labours simply profit hostile aliens, definitively emerges as a compelling mission to which they immediately respond with vociferous stewardship.

A revolutionary tale tempestuously told to harness innate hard-working nobility, bold transformations multivariably brandishing integrity and exception across the land.

The citizens denied their honest fair share of the spoils of their labours react with indignity, and collectively express their enraged disapproval with rebellious instinct and distinguished resolve.

Certainly focused on Transformers the sentient robotic aliens fuelling, narrative discord aggrieved animation improvised cognizance intermingling microbes. 

Unfortunately, their inspired insurrection leaves Orion Pax and D-16 at odds, the classic Professor X/Magneto dialectic reemerging with democratic/authoritative repercussions hemorrhaging.

It reminded me of Coruscant in Attack of the Clones when Skywalker and Kenobi chase down the bounty hunter, and ye olde "splinching" from the Harry Potter films when the newfound Transformers have issues changing.

Indubitably textbook evaluations of open-minded leadership resiliently tested, no doubt applicable to political studies should they seek exemplars of seditious tales.

Sad to see the flourishing enmity as it's coldly birthed in revolutionary flames.

To be spread far and wide from planet to planet. 

Megatron and Prime at odds thereverafter. 

When We Were Kings

It's tough to determine the varying degrees through which codes classify sensations, but the boxing legend introduced in When We Were Kings as Muhammad Ali is like the bona fide quintessential genuine.

I've never seen an athlete so at ease while rapidly sharing points of view, with pinpoint provocative picturesque poignancy, I have to admit, I was a bit overwhelmed.

Without rehearsing he sincerely presents multiple compelling thoughts and observations, without worrying how they'll be interpreted, or what people might shockingly think.

It's pure ironclad honest discourse which doesn't hesitate or pause, and also has cool things to say, what an incredible entertainer.

With idyllic public relations, Ali expertly holds the crowd, with carefree innocent freeform inspiration, like he truly was touched by God.

Perhaps brought about by character gained by his refusal to fight in Vietnam, the essential prominent humanistic integrity righteously disseminating goodwill and purpose.

With the advent of social media and the extra layer of thoughtful scrutiny, media sensations face quite the struggle when suddenly engaging the critical public.

And even though you would think remarkable variability would generally spread with unconcerned expression, the age old mass marketed commercial prejudice still seems to be manifesting one-dimensional stereotypes.

It seemed like within an open-minded spectrum composed with respect and multilateral dignity, alternative ideas would resoundingly flourish in what's oft referred to as friendly conversation.

Not in terms of the monstrous dissonance chaotically cultivated by the resurgent far right, nor the exceedingly suffocating rules prudishly administered by the far left.

But a less lucrative and spellbinding continuum bound to sell far fewer newspapers, wherein which less sarcastic and vitriolic peeps fluently inquire and delve and reckon.

Nevertheless, I imagine that even within the quasi-totalitarian discourse, Muhammad Ali's imaginative voice still would have wondrously shone through.

With ethical poise and cultural understanding, literally like no other mass media sensation, it's like smoothly flowing poetic jazz music freely offered with upstanding nerve.

I wholeheartedly recommend When We Were Kings to anyone who deals with media.

A crash course in vital fluidity.

Presented in verdant balm.

L'homme qui rit

A child is grossly deformed and abandoned.

Chance intervenes, providing shelter, friendship and nourishment.

The passage of congenial times nurtures love and success, swathed within an impoverished yet self-sufficient itinerant tenacity, innocent yet cunning, diligent and stable.

Until historical alignments introduce an aristocratic heritage whose peers and privileges threaten his sense of balance.

But these very same entitlements present means, pretentious and vitriolic though they may be, through which that sense's desire for social justice can institute positive change, in pre-revolutionary France.

L'homme qui rit is more of a kid's film, filled with obvious larger-than-life stereotypical depictions situated within a maudlin yet tear-jerking realistic fairy tale, but it does function as a contemporary allegory for democratic citizens who lack wealth but still wish to use their (available) political channels to influence current affairs, such as the environmental footprint of big business.

It's difficult.

It's daunting.

And seemingly impossible.

Unless you take into consideration the work of organizations like Avaaz and/or what's currently taking place in highly industrialized nations like Germany, whose decision to replace all of its nuclear reactors with environmentally sustainable technologies should be applauded.

It can be done.

It's being done.

Canada can do similar things.

If it's intent on moving forward.

Water for Elephants

Romance/youth contends with fidelity/age in Francis Lawrence's Water for Elephants as the young penniless Jacob Jankowski (Robert Pattinson) falls in love with his boss's wife. Jacob is lucky to have a job, having fortuitously jumped on a train in the middle of the night carrying a travelling circus to its next destination.  His veterinary skills soon prove useful although one of his diagnoses humanely disrupts the circus's most prominent act. Taking matters into his own hands against the protests of the volatile master of ceremonies (Christolph Waltz as August) almost leads to his dismissal, but August respects his firm convictions, even though they frustrate his fiery ego.

Thus we have a self-made person whose successfully made their living for decades in a fluctuating market willing to make sacrifices to accommodate a naive intelligent capable worker. Unfortunately the brutal manner in which he conducts his affairs leave his protégé with little to aspire to. An economic depression complicates matters as predictable revenues dry up and paranoia unleashes its maniacal tendrils. The introduction of a forbidden subject of desire does little to destabilize the frenetic tension.

When theories put into practice are validated by longevity their proponents undoubtably feel a sense of accomplishment. But if this sense of accomplishment leads both to an unyielding desire for order and vicious attempts to authoritatively manage the chaotic, its heralded methodology will likely engender internal miscalculations. If the alternatives which present themselves are met with the sword, its manufactured stability may lose its sustained truth-value and blindly obscure the forward thinking focus of its integrative synergies.

As that which they love most flutters away.