Money Monster

Televisual luminosity, the centripetal cynosure dazzlingly captivating your attention for a sensationally scripted surefire thirty slash sixty, making all the right moves, gimmicky ingratiation, applying the research so you don't have to, don't have to do anything, besides bask in his or her cardiovascular charisma, as he or she blows off your steam, and insulatingly ensures you make the correct decision.

But correct decisions are not always made, and if the viewer has not cultivated a cogent degree of critical awareness, tragedy can strike leaving bitter grievances pending.

Jodie Foster's Money Monster exorcizes such a scenario as Kyle Budwell (Jack O'Connell) loses his life savings following the guidance of Lee Gates's (George Clooney) networked investment extravaganza, and vengefully responds by taking his outputs hostage.

Live in real time.

Yet, as it becomes apparent that foul play may have been involved in the dealings of the company Gates lauded (IBIS Global Capital), the two begin to forge an investigatory friendship, hoping to reveal the truth, thereby saving both their good names.

Both!

The result is an entertaining heartwarming yet woeful examination of fraud, the broadcasters functioning like bourgeois intermediaries between the penniless and the plutocrats, impoverished angst voicing its anguish, malevolent miscalculations haunting the residue.

It had the opportunity to elaborately interrogate the dire financial predicaments many Americans find themselves in but only really touched the surface, focusing more of its attention on Gates's shock.

At one point you see Budwell passionately pleading on camera but you don't hear what he's saying as Gates's reaction is martyred.

Budwell has gone way too far but he could have been evidenced as more of a victim than a miscreant.

Should Chomsky have been consulted?

Most definitely yes.

The audiences watching Budwell's stand don't add much either. If individual members had been given personalities throughout, additional layers of reflective commentaries would have been added, like a web 2.0 factor.

Patty Fenn (Julia Roberts) and Diane Lester (Caitriona Balfe) do add level-headed managerial insights however, holding things together, interactively mediating and sleuthing.

Not as hard-hitting as I thought it would be, but still creatively conscious of economic crises.

Solid ethical entertainment.

Jab Tak Hai Jaan

Love, perpetually incapacitated, melodramatically presents itself as stubborn and unyielding, daring and resourceful, maddeningly fleeced, and explosively uncompromising, in Yash Chopra's Jab Tak Hai Jaan, where dedication is ir/reverently consummated, and real emotion, subsists in ironic flux.

Samar Anand's (Shah Rukh Khan) principles cause his nonchalant ingenuity to appear as if it's overcome with resignation, yet, while comparable to Bella Swan in terms of relationships, or in regards to narrative structure, he's clearly intently focused on achieving an interstellar overdrive, as his unrelenting perspicacity diffusively ameliorates.

His subjects of desire represent reserved bourgeois integrity and irrepressible public success.

As usual, I was more interested in the moments leading up to the initial affectionate declarations, after which, although things picked up again following the intermission, things become somewhat overzealous.

However, Mr. Chopra's ability to work bracingly and heartbreakingly within Jab Tak Hai Jaan's socio-religious cross-cultural overzealatanaiety, his unbridled full-throttle unconcerned pluck, did help me to appreciate his film, as he endearingly orchestrates.