Clockwatchers

What to expect when finally deciding to join the local workforce?

With an unsustainable temp position.

And no knowledge of office politics.

It must seem strange indeed to suddenly enter the bureaucratic vortex, wherein which copies and pencil pushing generate austere glib efficiencies. 

Should one not know what to do many others will gladly make things more confusing, as multivariable personalities dramatically claim they understand everything.

As the contradictions abound try not to seek out rational cohesion, but rather take each enigmatic exchange as an objective lesson in awkward composure.

Getting noticed - doing something well - may lead to widespread jealousy, even if it's something accidental that you naturally do without thinking.

Beware the ides of smalltalk with people with whom you have nothing in common.

Who write you up accordingly.

Even though you like to work. 

Clockwatchers follows timid Iris as she embraces office space, and makes friends with the other temp workers bewilderingly engaged within the labyrinth.

The lack of a definitive playbook and the inconsistent interactive exchanges, have encouraged latent entropy which oddly accentuates the mentorship.

The one clear regulation involves traditional hierarchical order, or when someone higher up in the chain makes a reasonable request, it's best to try to accommodate them.

Are they Broncos fans, do they like the NHL, do they read books, do they still watch movies, no they likely have families and that's all there is to talk about!

Clockwatchers examines the lack of stability generally associated with temp work, and the unfortunate frustrations which eventually arise from the drastic uncertainty. 

It's even worse with unpaid internships which shouldn't be legal in my opinion. To turn one into a job, meticulously say the congenial right thing even if you haven't the slightest.

Try to keep busy, he's working too hard.

Go with the flow, he lacks ambition.

Aloofly acculturate, he doesn't know what to do.

Embrace friendship, he's always kissing up. 

🤣 🦝

Bagdad Café

A marriage suddenly breaks up while the couple travels through the Mojave Desert, the wife taking a suitcase and venturing forth to the closest accommodating hotel (Marianne Sägebrecht as Jasmin Münchgstettner). 

The hotel's seen better days and lacks commercial intuition, a delirious rut having settled in which drives away most potential customers.

But Jasmin sees lucrative possibility virtually isolated in the Mojave, and whereas the owners (CCH Pounder as Brenda) have abandoned ship, she strives to keep the craft afloat.

Fortunately, her versatile industry and its accompanying foresight and vision, aren't lost on the cafe's staff, and soon metamorphoses materialize to bring paying clients back again. 

Further, sloth and anger slowly fade into bitter oblivion, gradually replaced by ingenuity not to mention bold showpersonship.

Ms. Münchgstettner isn't a demanding taskmaster sternly managing the forlorn crew, she rather leads by efficient example to avoid unproductive arguments with her co-workers.

Her example proves effective and her lack of ego inspires change.

But she doesn't have the necessary documents. 

To hold off deportation. 

Having spent some time North of 60 I have a latent fascination with the desert, from alternative meteorological extremes, regarding the perseverance of active life.

If people and animals can find a way to live in distressing ubiquitous cold, why not the heat as well, swelteringly abounding with solar energy?

I'd have to keep sunscreen close at hand and resourcefully find shade wherever possible, my myriad freckles indubitably intensifying within the unforgiving heat!

With shade acquired and a general lack of alarming nauseating sunstroke however, it would be fun to work somewhere like the Bagdad Café for an indeterminate period of time.

If you ever visit the countryside and go with the flow at work and play, you may discover a world of wonder at novel peace home on the range.

It's not always like that of course but I was lucky in my youth.

I don't regret having had to leave.

But sometimes I wish I'd stayed. 

After Hours

A strait-laced data analyst embraces his routine (Griffin Dunne as Paul Hackett), predictability the 9 to 5 smoothly flowing trusted and disciplined. 

An imaginative co-worker dreams of something more (Bronson Pinchot as Lloyd), something beyond cold codes and programs, an open-minded journal that promotes diversity.

Paul dismisses the idea even though he likes to read, mundanely ensconced in static cynicism, unconcerned with creativity.

Yet while reading alone in a diner, a single lass takes compassionate interest (Rosanna Arquette as Marcy), and soon they've decided to meet up later, Mr. Hackett moving beyond his narrow confines.

But should he have left inanimate routine inexplicably behind with adventurous longing, to suddenly extend bland limitations past the stilted sure and steady?

How will he react to liaised limbo immersed in scintillating shock, as enigmatic interactions present uncanny striking novelties?

It's as if he's entered Lloyd's journal with blasé editorial intent, the artists suspicious of his lacking spry free-flowing flexibility.

Instinctually composed beyond traditional direction, oddball night owls offer conspicuous fervid nimble characterizations. 

Bourgeois logic remains irrelevant he can't make the adaptations, his hopeless attempts to assert control instigating chaotic tension.

The journal requires inherent variability latent unorthodox unawareness, without patterns pragmatic paradigms smoothly shifting random flux.

The desire to reasonably analyze in search of auspicious thematic cohesion, leaves him synchronistically stranded as he attempts to swiftly improvise.

But the unknown erratic elements adhesively unite through enthused criticism, generating instantaneous aggrieved startling multidisciplinary import.

Perhaps he'll be a manager some day but on this night he has no agency, and must adjust to the ironic insurrection of laidback generally accommodating peeps.

Thus the arrhythmic inconclusive intuitive chill spontaneous tangents, prove that they don't watch cable television or sit back and read the news.

A wondrous lively essential eclective naturally responding with unclassified stamina, finds momentary momentum uncategorized active spiritual flight.

I'm not sure if he's meant to be comic or if he's portrayed in a tragic light.

Which lends the film a bit of mysticism. 

When thinking about it later on. 

With Teri Garr, John Heard, Cheech & Chong, and Catherine O'Hara. 

The Good Liar

A reptilian overture preys on aged innocence, moving from one lonely widow to the next, as he amasses prim misfortune, too incorrigible to ever give it up (Ian McKellen as Roy Courtnay).

Lifelong aggressive tremens, no friend to terms or tact, slipped through the cracks for many a year, avoided wayward trim detection.

He's quite hawkish, rather diligent, a partner lending a helping hand (Jim Carter as Vincent), watching out for eager fools all too willing to softly land.

Romance by night, fraternizing by day, not one to take time off, he's insatiably disposed, as voracious as they come, an emotionless career psycho.

He meets another unsuspecting victim (Helen Mirren as Betty McLeish) all too happy to make a new friend, she's so overcome with infatuation it's not long 'til he's movin' in.

Her grandson's (Russell Tovey as Stephen) more suspicious and proceeds to make historical inquiries, uncovering a gruesome awkward scandal dating back to World War II.

But explanations are forthcoming and life's less bitter if you can forgive, the two making it up on the shifty spot, and carrying on as if nothing's unhinged.

But if the title's none the wiser, there may be more surprises in store, The Good Liar as composed as its enmity, begetting bitter strikes richly scored.

It's straightforward yet tough from the get-go, but neither textbook nor boring, a brisk pace highlighting the novelty, of high stakes octogenarian high-jinx.

The couple's half bourgeois, half streetwise, at times they pleasantly blend, Betty's sympathy keeping things afloat, providing excuses for Roy's demeanour.

I think a particularly vile realm in hell should be reserved for those who prey on the elderly, if such a place exists, and it's odd to see the elderly preying upon each other in this one, sheer proof of the ageless psychopath.

Certainly a good idea for a film and I can't think of anything else like it, although if it had been shot like a creepy indie, it likely would have made more of an impact.

It's a bit farfetched that Roy is still at large at his age, can you always work in a British detective?

Still enjoyed it, a bit of irreverent controversy, nice to see Helen Mirren and Ian McKellen in something dramatic, without fast cars or apocalyptic agendas.

Some unexpected twists keep it moving along as their coupling becomes more intense, neither too poised nor that full-on thug, without ever displaying much feeling.

Is this a date movie?

Todos lo saben

A wedding brings a family together to exalt in celebration, the festivities overflowing with spirit, inhibitions let loose to praise.

But as guards are let down and passions erupt, covetous malfeasance clandestinely violates.

Soon it is known that kidnapping is afoot, and the identity of the perpetrator remains a bitter mystery.

Old school social relations call motives into question, as despondent candour joylessly obscures lucid trust.

Financial responsibility dismally beckons, a lifetime of hard work hauntingly underlying stoic sacrifice.

The past interrogatively echoes.

As the present crumbles astray.

Emergent futures contend in Todos lo saben indeed, as disturbing essentials anxiously prognosticate.

Hives of activity maddeningly posture before settling down with forlorn resignation.

Its characters are strong, compassionate, resilient, loving.

They don't only care for their immediate family, but seek the prosperity of their workforce as well.

Like a versatile community.

The film excels at presenting passionate logic, the overwhelming emotions that characterize sincere distress rationally generated with sober feeling.

Everything's understood with astute enough composure.

It matures like the vines its reels cultivate, coming of age in the mid-afternoon sun.

Storms may disrupt its smooth delicate maturation, but not without augmenting rough unique compelling flavour.

It examines religion without preaching, infidelities without scorn, science without authentication, loyalty forbidding dependence.

Even though characters seek just outcomes, it doesn't mean it's easy, and even though they have resources they can access, it doesn't mean alternative solutions are shelved.

Suspicions bluntly arise.

Level heads contemplatively acquiesce.

Like culture under seige.

Todos lo saben peacefully reckons.