Tender Mercies

A famous country & western singer who's been idle for several years, finds himself broke in an unknown hotel one sobering scant perplexing morning (Robert Duvall as Mr. Sledge).

Fortunately goodwill blossoms and he's offered a job taking care of the property, food and lodging worked into his cheque, it's not the greatest but it seems trusted stable.

As things become familiar, the owner takes a shine to his polite down home reckoning, and he responds with amorous accommodation the two soon marrying each for the second time.

Mr. Sledge has trouble with alcohol and solemnly recognizes he needs to steer clear, but sometimes it isn't as easy as just watching TV off the beaten track night after routine night.

He may have given it up but he once travelled from town to town, and had a solid reputation for endearing songwriting which earned quite the living far and wide.

A young group of struggling musicians discover his whereabouts and come a' callin', he's certainly not interested at first but slowly relaxes and responds obligingly. 

Will he be able to reforge a bond with the estranged daughter he hasn't seen in years (Ellen Barkin as Sue Anne)?

While learning to write songs once again?

And settling in with his new family?

Mild-mannered tame observation calmly generating commitment age old, convalescence coordinating calibrations reanimated rutabaga rapture.

The perfect recipe to get-back-at-it no immediate pressure no media exposure, just tranquil peace at play within inquisitive familial fulcrums.

The glitz and glamour while lucrative and shocking perhaps abounding with eclectic reliability, may detach creative peeps at times, from the habitual contemplation that led to so many of their hits.

With so many different people creating in different ways it's by no means a rule, but I love how The Rolling Stones created their best stuff on the run from the law in the French countryside.

Cities are fun since there's so much variability dependably mutating and chaotically harmonizing.

But there's still novelty in the countryside deep down, if you sit back and listen to the offbeat proclamations.

Not the ones that cross the line but that hasn't happened much in my experience.

It's a unique world abounding with novelty.

What's available, not what you can't buy. 

Delirious

A kindhearted freespirit abounding with compassion finds himself inanimately indisposed, without lodgings or food or friendship or frenzy he wanders New York in search of something new (Michael Pitt as Toby Grace). 

He meets a photographer (Steve Buscemi) who spends his time in search of celebrity appearances, which he swiftly captures then sells to earn a buck, used to life on his own and a rather ornery set of rules, he takes young Toby in and sets him up as his assistant.

As Toby's introduced to the long hours of the paparazzi, he tries his best to ease his benefactor's troubled mind, at times breaking through the multilayered masochism, to placate his cantankerous sadospurious vengeful bitterness.

Mr. Grace is a solid character oft maligned for its gentle trusting, and natural sympathetic instincts, and resonant altruistic charm.

He lacks competitive calculating individualistic self-promotion, and has no time for guts or grievances, he's inherently non-violent.

He's more concerned with friendship than relationships or ownership, and can forgive grand impositions without foolishly giving in.

Delirious is quite romantic as Toby suddenly succeeds, yet still caught up with hardboiled dissonance as his jealous patron won't forgive him.

I suppose the grass is greener and many people covet wealth, but isn't it also important to chill and not concern yourself with opulence. 

I'm afraid I tend to see jealousy as an inhibiting destructive force, which slowly leads to spiritual ruin if left unchecked in freeform dissolution.

When you detect that people are trying to make you jealous, ask yourself, are these people good friends?, there's so much wonderful friendship out there with people who don't try to make you jealous.

Sometimes people share things without intending to show off or brag, they simply just like sharing things and don't see the harm in doing so.

The world does seem to be caught up with jealousy though, and as it blindly promotes incoherence so much innocence is lost.

You can preserve such innocence without getting duped over and over again, the two don't go hand in hand, Toby's actions offer a clear example.

Although ridiculous at points, Delirious demonstrates compassionate understanding, goodwill productively materialized, which even brought a tear to me eye.

Taking out your own shortcomings on others is as impractical as it is dispiriting. 

Better to slowly walk away.

Let them find others who prefer that kind of thing. 

All About Eve

A celebrated actress at home on the stage, routinely delivering multifaceted exonerations, of unspoken thoughts and dreams, desires, ambitions, theories, a daring picturesque virtuoso, caught up with rhythmic sage.

Involved with a significant other, in a situation lacking scandal, discursive variation tact frivolity, consistent thoughtful bustling capers.

An idea forged through shades transformative delicately shared to invoke dispute, enlivening playful courageous wagers, and joyful crazed repute.

The introduction of another, obsequious and bashful, offering her services for little in return, as the weeks pass she slowly accumulates subtle regard for performance earned.

Her name emerges in conversation with consistent animate praise, remarkable piecemeal code conversion sundry trades professed liaised.

Enriched through understudy awaiting fortune shifts stage lights, the occasion swiftly surging with a levity airtight.

As newfound inspiration reimagines ways and means, novelty or contagion flows sustains the evergreen.

Bit of a downer for the resourceful Margo (Bette Davis) who didn't see it comin'. Fame persisting less assured now that Eve (Anne Baxter) is in the running.

A traditional take on awestruck rivalry that extols acting, reflective fervour, All About Eve introduces a competitive element that transfigures as it stupefies.

I imagine its age old subject matter still resonates today, not only in terms of acting, but Netflix etc. and countless ads prove there's neverending commercial work for any actor.

I even saw David Spade starring in a recent Netflix film (it was terrible) and it looks like a new Bill & Ted film has been released (not on Netflix), plus famous directors like Martin Scorsese, Michael Bay, and the Coen Brothers have released films on Netflix, which I never thought I'd see happen, it's like the medium's extending careers indefinitely while still forging opportunities for younger talents, the game has seriously changed, and it's fun to view the superstructural transformations.

For advertisements, when I was growing up, if you ever saw famous actors at the height of their careers in ads it was surprising, I don't recall it ever happening, but from time to time you see it nowadays, meaning there's less work to go around (love the A & W guy!).

It's like there used to be a code of sorts where film actors never did television/series or commercials, and television/series or commercial actors wanted to be film actors, perhaps that's slipped away into the past, along with reputation and prestige.

Margo takes a break in All About Eve and perhaps will work no more, which would have been a shame, considering the incredible work Nicole Kidman's doing, not to mention Jeff Bridges or Tom Cruise. 

Adversarial competitions aside, All About Eve's concern with acting as opposed to writing or directing reminded me of my youth, when it was important to see everything an actor had made, before I became familiar with auteurs. 

And I doubt that will ever go away, the public love of actors is something timeless. 

I'll still go see a film if it's starring one of my favourites.

Even if I'm supposed to know better.

😉

The Death and Life of John F. Donovan

A child reaches out to his favourite television star, and as fate would have it, he amicably responds.

Years later, transformed into an assertive young man, the fan discusses their correspondence with a none-too-keen reporter.

For something as innocent as a literary exchange, frail controversy abounds, the boy's life at school assailed, the star denying any involvement.

He was transitioning at the time to augmented cultured renown, replete with haywire strained theatrics, and their accompanying dis/enchantments.

As isolated feelings shocked and enervated, he became increasingly fraught and torn.

Both troubled penpals engage in heated exchanges with their mothers, youthful angst exploding, less dramatic knots unnerving.

Neither quite at home yet settled.

Pronounced and blunt misgivings.

The Death and Life of John F. Donovan tills new mainstream ground, its innovative form both strength and weakness, as thought duels with emotive viscerals.

Impassioned feeling erupts at times, defined by aggrieved adolescence, and it makes an impact inasmuch as it startles, and critiques with unhinged fury.

These scenes aptly reflect wild destructive rage, and they make dismal embittered sense, and they're rarely encountered with such derisive vehemence, like sure sighted succinct storms.

When I think about the scenes, their style indeed seems quite well-chosen, especially if you've ever lost or seen someone lose your/their temper, and let loose vitriolic condemnation.

But they're a classic example of honest hands-on realism clashing with deceptive fantasy, insofar as the raw echoing sincerity doesn't fit the upscale production.

I can't criticize them for being histrionic because the situations they dispute are akin to exaggeration, but it's still discomforting to watch as they shriek and tantrum, and the poor mother looks on despondent.

Dolan's arguably a master of such scenes and it's nice to see they weren't held back, to see him workin' his style pseudo-studio, and I'm wondering if a rushed schedule left him directing in haste, because his more independent features capture such frenzies with ironic delicacy, and leave you overwhelmed with comatose disbelief.

A learning experience.

A stepping stone.

Who knows what happened here?

It's a cool enough story that's super melodramatic.

But the abrupt pace lacks the composure of his earlier work.

So it depends on how you like your melodrama.

I like refined melodramatic ridiculousness.

Missed the boat on John F. Donovan I'm afraid.

To Rome with Love

For a summer in Rome, an office clerk finds himself thrust into the spotlight, his routine reflections hyperbolically sensationalizing influence, as an architect revisits his youth to bring back to life/cross-examine his most serendipitous subject of desire, a young communist lawyer contends with a retired opera producer when it's discovered that his humble father can sing exceptionally well, and a married couple, in town for a potentially prosperous employment opportunity, find themselves accidentally embracing exotic extramarital affairs.

Felicitously framed by a traffic cop's dissolving point of view.

The conditions of which inculcate calisthenic creativity.

Romantically mingling the celebrated with the starstruck and the ordinary with the hyper-intensive, while evoking the nimble necessity to unearth metaphorical mirth within corresponding psychoanalytic observations, Woody Allen's To Rome with Love's palpable playful pluck picturesquely procures impressionable popularizations, and salaciously serenades atemporal condensations.

Fidelity strengthened through chance, temptation tethered to testimony, regret distinguished from revelation, and dreams evanescently alighted.

A virtuosic variation on a theme.

There's a lot more to it than that.