Alienoid: Return to the Future

The ancient world tempestuously welcomes alien renegades from a far distant future, whose apocalyptic orchestrations may suffocate all life on planet Earth.

Along for the ride we find a computer program who can take on human form, and serendipitously shapeshift as awkward circumstances dictate. 

He surreptitiously protects a courageous determined fledgling warrior, who seeks to ensure the malevolent convicts permanently rest in medieval Korea. 

Back in the present day, the deadly haava will soon be released, after which all life on Earth will perish and reckless malfeasance rule absolutely.

The multivariable eclectic mix of dynamic characters effectively duel, and furiously express their athletic witticisms as the ensuing chaos thunders.

In terms of recalibrating A.I and giving it transformative humanistic features, could the cyberspatial efficiently be freed from incarcerated bland electronic environments?

If an electronic code exists for variable lifeforms within different realms, could it be effectively replicated thereby creating carbon copies?

Somewhat like the cloned sheep "Dolly" but without the elaborate multifaceted process, Star Trek: The Next Generation providing insights into the organic simulations.

On Star Trek's holodeck diverse beings find instantaneous ingenious life, and can interact and joke and play music while following intricate complex instructions. 

The characters can't leave their simulated environments they're imprisoned there however, in Star Trek you can't find the code for Proust or Shakespeare and see them miraculously reborn.

Nevertheless, within the food replicators organic material is suddenly created, with infinite variety from manifold planets and it fluidly exists in the outside world. 

Thus, within these highly useful machines computer codes take on physical forms (like they do in cyberspace), and can be consumed outside the domains in which they were originally produced (unlike cyberspace).

Thus, if you had a machine that could take a code like that used to clone different animals, you could theoretically duplicate them ad infinitum, like the food replicators on Star Trek.

You could therefore also alter their programming so they could transmutate at will. 

It's just a matter of discovering the manifest codes.

Which clandestinely structure organic environments.

Love the Twin Peaks intertextuality. 

Cool sequel. 

Godzilla vs. King Ghidorah

Unlike any Godzilla film I've seen before, Godzilla vs. King Ghidorah (1991) unreels as special effects were improving in Japan. They're still a long ways off from where they are now and a bit behind films like Star Wars or Aliens, but that doesn't mean the production team didn't use them as frequently and conspicuously as possible.

Plus, instead of using model vehicles real world tanks etc. were employed, more money spent on this instalment which radiates novel curiosity like none other.

Things are relatively peaceful in Japan as sundry professionals go about their business, a young writer tired of covering the supernatural hopes to break into the nonfiction market.

He hears a tale of an extant dinosaur who saved a battalion during World War II, and wonders if it was indeed the very lifeform whom nuclear experiments transformed into Godzilla.

Meanwhile, ambassadors from the future suddenly arrive with mischievous intent, claiming that Godzilla is such a pest in the future that he threatens the very existence of atemporal Japan.

They have a copy of the writer's book and hope to use it to find the dinosaur, whom they will then transport to another location so he never absorbs the transformative radiation. 

But it soon becomes apparent that contemporary politicians have been duped, as three cute bat-like genetically altered animals are transformed into King Ghidorah!

As Ghidorah levels Japan people realize once again that they need Godzilla; will approximate manifested manipulations exotically enable further monstrous malevolence!

It's actually a lot more complicated than that director/writer Kazuki Ômori went all out on the script, perhaps too much for one single Godzilla film but no doubt a feast for the over-the-top senses.

My theory that some dinosaurs lived for a great deal of time after their mass "extinction", seems to have been shared by inquisitive others actually brought up with ancient oral traditions.

Perhaps there's too much taking place in the inventive comprehensive macromanic King Ghidorah, but if you like consistent twists and unexpected developments legitimately hatched it's a frenetic frenzy.

Complete with a futuristic scenario where Japanese corporations control the world, it leaves no exuberant stone unturned as it ludicrously theorizes things yet to come.

Likely generating controversy in Godzilla circles around the experimental world, due to its incredibly ambitious undaunted seemingly limitless narrative daring, there's no doubt it's a fluidic must see in a league of its own crafting kernels incarnate, tantalizing transmutating treatises, disputatiously reverberating confounding as one.  

Jubilee

Queen Elizabeth I seeks direct knowledge of the future, and an accommodating angel is summoned, divinely endowed with prophetic precision he graciously enables clairvoyant caricatures, as they travel to a post-apocalyptic future feverishly enamoured with punk rock.

Strange to provide ahistorical comparisons between the alternative social constructs, but whereas the Queen monopolises power way back when, a media mogul exercises similar authority over yonder.

His friends characterize the past with random inspired proclamations, like a series of disgruntled spirited diatribes diabolically manifested through armageddon. 

Puzzling to the astonished Queen who takes it in with modest whimsy, somewhat shocked by the blatant contrasts but otherwise scientifically disposed.

The police have taken to violence and no longer put up with the slightest objection, quickly firing should constructive criticisms ever dare to voice concerns.

People discovered with nothing to do must endure underground lectures on various topics, an audience desired found within the streets where millions remain unemployed.

What can the bewildered Queen then boldly administer amongst her subjects?

To imagine alternative global paths.

Prominently incorporating widespread leisure. 

Treading imaginatively throughout time multivariable presents chaotically mingle, to effectively generate kinetic shards exuberantly coruscating wild endeavours.

Had the Queen spent more time delicately observing the tribulations of her stately epoch, perhaps the sensational uproars may have seemed less grandiose as semantically situated within composite streams.

Thoroughly saturated embellished beacons enthusiastically disseminating jocose hypotheses, not as devoutly determined by chronological forecasts much more individualistically composed. 

Like ye olde Lite Brite or David Lynch's picture to be found in another room, Jarman bedazzlingly creates improvised disharmonies through substantial recourse to extant obscurity. 

With good times endearingly awaiting the shape-shifting collectives in balm and friendship, indeed forging lackadaisical teams to fortuitously treasure infinite subjectivity. 

Carefree and unfortunately at odds with so many disciplined lavish demeanours.

Still unafraid to ebulliently exist.

Brilliant breaching.

Nebulous nerve. 

*Criterion keyword: freight. 

The Philadelphia Experiment

Probably best not to sign up when the army asks if you'd like to take part in a secret experiment, where they mention there may be potential side effects, and they aren't even offering that great a sum.

Jacob's Ladder and The X-Files make compelling cases for avoiding such initiatives anyways, the enthusiastic recruits permanently damaged after their courageous embrace of enigmatic science was forgotten.

The Philadelphia Experiment doesn't examine trial and error as it relates to medical research however, it's initially concerned with cloaking ships so the Axis can't detect them during World War II.

It's quite an elaborate set up the production impressive from a laboratory standpoint, so many lightbulbs and wires and connections that it seemed like a bona fide realistic test tube.

The special effects are classic '80s too indubitably impressive if you like that kind of thing, the transitionary phase from pioneering early sci-fi to the technological wonders we have today.

The experiment goes awry or the cloaking works too well you might say, the ship itself lost in temporal recesses two confused servicepersons transported to the '80s.

It's cool to imagine the electronic innovations of the early '80s as the height of technoendeavour, or to have been part of the audience intuitively revelling in the bewildered shock of the time displacement.

We still use one of the microwaves we bought at that time it's still in working order, although it takes awhile, knock on wood, hopefully it isn't slowly radioactively poisoning us as time goes by even if we rarely use it.

I don't know if I'm as blown away by time travel films that take place in the present, even if it happens to be around 40 years later, isn't the point to contemporize historical difference?

The Experiment still contains the classic startling moments when the different characters come to terms with their ahistorical authenticity, through the eyes of the time travellers and those they encounter alike, I'm a huge sucker for this kind of storyline.

Perhaps those old school computer graphics look as antiquated to today's youth as the monsters of '50s and '60s sci-fi did to me when I was younger, although some of those yesteryear vampire and Frankenstein films still seriously impress in this cynical day and age (horror not sci-fi I suppose).

Things are so tense politically at the moment, is it far too risky to make films where people travel to the future?

Will it seem like the ancient past?

AI ironically introducing the solution environmentalists seek.

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.

Alienoid

Imprudence exceedingly deteriorates an unorthodox prison constructed by aliens, when a particularly rebellious inmate is radically set free by robotic insurgents (hopefully their next stop's Russia around this time last week!). 

The jail consists of human hosts randomly chosen due to time constraints, the extraterrestrials placed within their bodies and left there (theoretically) dormant to slowly fade.

To make them more difficult to locate different time periods are meticulously mobilized, aliens resting in different bodies everlasting throughout time. 

Obsessions with magic periodically erupting should an alien escape two cyborgesque guardians arrive, their remarkably fluid technology enabling atemporal matriculate moxie. 

In the opening moments, one such innovative captive escapes, chaotically perishing in the ensuing confrontation, her host's baby daughter left alone and helpless, her lifeforce still indicating rampant resonance.

The guardians take her back to the present and improvisationally raise her as best they can, Yi-an (Kim Tae-Ri/Choi Yu-ri) slowly figuring things out as she ages, a unique inquisitive non-traditional childhood.

But the aforementioned shipment of criminal aliens eventually arrives to usurp and challenge. 

Proving too volatile for the resilient guardians.

Who can only defeat them through the passage of time.

That would be cool to have a special device which lithely facilitated forbidden time travel, not only to voyage to different times and observe, but also to hide vital treasures throughout history.

Divergent ideas im/materially motivating newfound visions and corresponding networks, the careful management of ingenious works may modestly encourage enriching contemplation.

Should time munificently permit the dynastic emergence of cartotemporal relevance, consistent multilateral mechanisms may spellbindingly enchant with rhythmic reticence. 

Perhaps more suited to the far distant past classic literature and museums performing similar functions, different generations reimagining first contact to inspire insurrections within established genres. 

But Chinese and Japanese cultures developed so much earlier than European customs, and have cherished artistic traditions for thousands of years give or take a century.

Unfortunately, conflict and power-relations may have led to many incredible works being lost, but how many of them were also preserved?, I don't know much about such history.

Nevertheless, if you had something precious to be wondrously showcased without fear of theft, managing different personas throughout time may lucidly enable multifaceted continuums. 

Perhaps another goal for alchemists should they discover the elixir of life.

Too complicated for me I'm afraid.

I thought Alienoid was amazing (with Twin Peaks characters).

*Looking forward to the recently released sequel.  

2067

Spoiler alert.

A grim environmental forecast depicts an uninhabitable world, whose air has become so toxic plant and animal life no longer breathes.

Special masks facilitate community as one last industrious enclave holds out, underground crews working day and night to eclectically maintain the grid's survival. 

Unsuspecting and unaware a gifted technician is suddenly told (Kodi Smit-McPhee as Ethan Whyte), of his bizarre relationship with the future which his genius father cultivated. 

He's tasked with venturing forth through time to find a solution to the crisis, endemic flora that has adapted and in turn healed the ailing world.

Uncertain as to how to proceed he courageously heeds the call nevertheless, and soon finds himself in a future world where trees and plants freely grow partout.

He also discovers his corpse and a highly advanced technological device, which recorded his last interactions and provides haunting evidence and messed up clues.

Soon his closest friend startlingly arrives to lend a hand (Ryan Kwanten as Jude Mathers), but it appears he may not be interested in the cultivation of universal levity. 

Indeed he's come to goonishly ensure that only a select few survive. 

By travelling through the portal.

Abandoning Earth to its chaotic fate.

Nice to see such an embowered ending flexibly fostering collective hope, without much covert underlying foreshadowing, cool to proactively see. 

Australia's making some thoughtful headway into the realm of science-fiction, notably through the art of time travel, I still love these atemporal conceits. 

What I loved about 2067 is that it's not concerned with the select few, it seeks to harvest multivariable accolades from wide-ranging intricate diverse spectrums.

It's leadership it's practical knowledge of what's been done and what can be attained, when cultures emphasize sundry different interactive humanistic applications. 

Even in times of greatest sorrow the humanistic will to cultivate community, and curate widespread prosperity still constructively motivates goodwill. 

Still upholding multifaceted life.

Collective unity.

For generations onwards. 

It doesn't seem like that tough of an equation, it's a huge downer when it doesn't compute. 

Highlander II: The Quickening

The ozone layer all but disappears and the sun's rays punish those still living, until the Highlander known as MacLeod (Christopher Lambert) constructs a massive shield to offer protection.

Years later he's robustly agéd and quietly withdrawn from the engaged life, immortality having faded away after he emerged victorious in instalment one.

He has the choice to peacefully pass or return in triumph to his home world, and since he's grown fond of his new home, he has no desire to solemnly depart.

But back on planet Zeist, the bitter general who once had him banished (Michael Ironside as Gen. Katana), fears his agile reemergence and sends his minions to ensure fatality. 

Meanwhile, the necessity of the shield has been called into commercial question, since environmentalists believe the 'zone has regenerated but still lack evidence to prove their theory.

The entire planet is indeed a customer of the corporation who owns the shield, and if it was proven to be non-essential the most lucrative business ever would swiftly fade.

The minions arrive and quickly find MacLeod and waste no time waiting for the perfect moment, but he resoundingly responds in style thereby regaining his cherished youth.

Having met the leader of the environmentalists (Virginia Madsen as Louise) he must now ethically decide, if he's to investigate their audacious claims with the help of age old friends such as Ramírez (Sean Connery).

But soon Katana arrives in full-on monumental fury.

Dire reckless chaotic reckoning.

Bizarre changes impenitent brood.

There's still a lighthearted touch to the imposing abyss presented in Highlander II: The Quickening, as attempts to seem serious are undercut by mischievous mayhem and lithe longevity.

The return of Ramírez is cheerfully welcome even if the rationale is somewhat ludicrous, and calls into question much of the first film's action, without justifying MacLeod's amnesia.

I suppose the animate sequel strives to diversify the original's plot, but sometimes initial features shouldn't be reimagined or incongruently altered.

The comic touch and Connery's unconcern challenge this point of view with certainty, but not with enough striking substance to leave one feeling unconditionally moved.

The original Highlander's such a cool film I highly recommend it if you haven't seen it.

The Quickening offers further salient material.

Without the original's thought provoking plausibility. 

*That's my last review from the deep pandemic.

Peggy Sue Got Married

 With her high school reunion looming, former Prom Queen Peggy Sue (Kathleen Turner) embraces anxiety, post-graduation having not been ideal, inasmuch as her husband's (Nicolas Cage as Charlie Bodell) a cad.

But she's hoping he won't show up even if he's a local celebrity, who sells various commodities on television, somewhat profitable but also embarrassing. 

She finds a stunning dress and boldly makes a daring entrance, quickly running into cherished old friends, while avoiding questions about married life.

Yet pesky Charlie breaks his promise and suddenly appears with grandiose spectacle, old friends flocking to eagerly greet him, bucolic burnish, sedate success.

Peggy can't handle the pressure and swiftly and awkwardly passes out, only to awaken 25 years younger, having inexplicably travelled through time. 

A second chance having fortunately materialized she goes about making amends, notably with a brilliant overlooked science student (Barry Miller as Richard Norvik), and an articulate passionate artist (Kevin J. O'Connor as Michael Fitzsimmons). 

But she still can't outmaneuver her upcoming future, even if she gives her potential husband the cold shoulder, as she accidentally learns new pieces of information which startlingly tenderize his former life.

Will traditional unalterable patterns conjugally re-emerge with eternal contemporaneity? 

Or will she freely try something new?

Perhaps unprecedented amalgamations! 

Can't say I eruditely comprehend the practical realities of wedded bliss, as actively attained with vehement clarity bewildering intimate conjoined life.

When younger, it seemed like sharing my life with someone was indeed a wise path to follow, but having made it to middle age, I currently find I'm much more interested in steadfast freedoms.

Unfortunately, I was deemed misguided and too carefree for traditional alignments, generally because I wasn't prone to argument or daring extracurricular reckoning.

Thus, I was far too boring at a time when partners didn't seek reliability, but rather preferred prosaic drama and lavish spending and fierce discord.

But fret not if in a similar position of resolute tantamount stoic prudence, a day is coming when desire will wane and it will all seem somewhat ridiculous.

I imagine I'd be out the door by now if I had ever bothered anyhow.

I may have dodged a bullet.

Who knows!

Tomorrow, I'm sleeping in.

Predestination

Difficult to say what you would have done differently if you had possessed prescient knowledge way back when, would there simply have been more of an enigmatic emphasis, or would things still have proceeded without grandiose change?

A self-indulgent question to be sure creatively occurring if you've ever had time to consider the past, hypothetical degrees of forlorn or joyous intensities increasing, depending on whether or not temporal interventions could have facilitated alternatives.

But such alternatives would have opened up unforeseen potentialities which may have been more prosperous if not worse, manifold striking unpredictable variables accompanying sundry indefinite outcomes.

Such a perspective almost makes the act of engaging in trivial decision making, seem much more epic in light of the infinite imperceptible comic echoes. 

Would I have wound up teaching in Paris or exploring the bush laidback in Chibougamau, peacefully working away at the Granby Zoo or fishing off the coast of Sept-Îles?

Predestination introduces a time machine and a somewhat invariable interdimensional occupation, wherein which operatives monitor the past to attempt to hinder voltaic malfeasance. 

The rules are quite strict no nonsense the agents are watched with meticulous scrutiny, one attempting to improvise nevertheless after a lifetime of loyal service (Ethan Hawke as the Barkeep).

He befriends a recruit who's alone living a generally solitary existence, having grown up in an orphanage unencumbered by the temptations of bourgeois life (Sarah Snook as the Unmarried Mother).

Could she make a good agent who knows! theory's quite different from work in the field, but at least they have something to talk about over a drink at random one evening.

Even if you had a time machine and could travel back and forth to different ages, how would you ever settle in without standing out like a shocking oddity?

Would you be able to understand the dialect or codes of conduct with enough fluent ease, to do simple things like find lodging or food, and wouldn't the smell be repellent?

I suppose like so many things you'd have to proceed with trial and error, the first jump somewhat overwhelming the second and third perhaps less of a shock (if heading to the same location).

Could a thorough interest in Star Trek help to prepare one for such endeavours, as a kind of theoretical support, perhaps lacking practical value?

Predestination travels time like no other narrative I've seen before, much more concerned with characterized mystery than grandiose spectacle fantastic intrigue.

If you were to meet yourself 25 years ago have you any idea what you'd say?

Predestination has a unique answer.

It's really well done.

A must see for time travel fans.

The Knight Before Christmas

A bold knight (Josh Whitehouse as Sir Cole) honourably avails emphatically attuned to the 14th century, warmly accustomed to duty and responsibility as he bravely embraces work and play.

But he has yet to fulfill a quest and thereby improve his chivalric standing, the lack of enchanted adventurous reckoning causing him sincere subconscious dismay.

Until one day alone in the woods what's referred to as "an old crone" mysteriously appears, and tells him of "steel dragons" and "magic boxes" far off in the distant future.

Soon he's transported to the present day without much information to clarify his purpose, when a weary damsel comes to his aid and provides food and shelter for the upcoming holidays (Vanessa Hudgens as Brooke).

She's depressed after having recently lost one whom she loved who treated her crudely, casting her off for the attentions of another who remains uncritical of his unjust behaviour.

As a result, an honest and trusting heartfelt lass has lost faith in true love, and even shares her woebegone misgivings with her confused students as they seek her counsel.

The knight proves a novel distraction as he reacts to the ways of the present, marvelling at the bounty to be found at the supermarket, chasing skunks, and learning to drive.

But he can't figure out his quest and its imposing deadline looms.

Will he find the solution in time?

Or will blasé cynicism ignite disdain!?

Amorously blending cultural codes from disparate centuries united by romance, The Knight Before Christmas exuberantly chronicles timeless star-crossed endearing affection.

Also rewarding charity and self-sacrifice it doesn't shy away from constructive do-gooding, and doesn't present scandalous ulterior motives for age old cohesive communal camaraderie. 

Certainly one must remain vigilant to counter stratagems which prey on trust, but you also can't become so cold and isolated that you no longer recognize genuine honesty.

It's a fine balance that's continuously shifting as new developments strikingly emerge, patterns adapting to unprecedented reactions to newfound endeavours reverberating wonder.

Brooke's strong heart is rewarded by supernatural witchcraft concerned with well-being, the knight also learning to extend himself beyond traditional yearnings for legendary renown.

Within postmodern domesticity he finds grand adventure facilitated.

As so many often do.

Even if you rarely hear about it. 

*Shot in brilliant locations.

Avengers: Endgame

Considering the scale of the Marvel films, the mind-boggling number of superheroic narratives Marvel's crafted since Iron Man was released in 2008, the billions of dollars it's made, the bold ways it's used them to pursue social justice, Marvel's still never seemed arrogant, or reckless, or condescending, or unhinged, as if it plays its role in the cinematic continuum with as much wild-eyed innocent wonder as its characters radiate in its films, generally aware of its remarkable capabilities, but constantly challenging itself so they never grow stale, likely afflicted with the same doubts that confront many successful professionals, without letting them take control, without allowing them to dissuade and plunder.

I suppose I often write about how often Marvel releases films, or how many of them there are, but loads of comedy and drama and horror films are released every year; if one fantasy/sci-fi/adventure/action studio is bold enough to expand its boundaries far beyond those ever conceived by its rivals, while delivering generally well-crafted products, perhaps overload transforms into melody, from novelty to pest to pastime, changing the fantasy genre in shocking unprecedented ways, without hubris or controversy, with old school hard work, humility, and commitment.

I've come to love many Marvel characters and it's incredible how many of them there are.

Trying to write a script that includes most of them and still respects their characters is a monumental undertaking overflowing with risk and chaos.

And I thought screenwriters Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely (is that a real name?) did a great job integrating diverse Marvel personalities in Endgame, Ant-Man (Paul Rudd) conversing with Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr.), Rocket (Bradley Cooper) boldly telling it like it is, Thor (Chris Hemsworth) and Quill (Chris Pratt) batting heads without much fallout, Nebula (Karen Gillan) sternly arguing with herself, Thanos (Josh Brolin) not saying much but delivering powerful lines, Captain America (Chris Evans) and his motivational speeches, Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson) keeping the team together, different characters analyzing time travel, a fierce determined Valkyrie (Tessa Thompson) proclaiming, and the Hulk (Mark Ruffalo) emitting concerned humble brilliance.

Others as well.

The dynamics of time travel, or the logical repercussions of the mission the Avengers find themselves on in Endgame, are beyond the scope of this review, but I'll write that Endgame's clever and entertaining from the dismal beginning to the ________ end, with so many cool little moments and only a side of deflating cheese.

In Star Trek, it's always cool when Sarek shows up. How many films and series include Sarek? Yes, Mark Lenard originally played a Romulan.

In Avengers: Endgame it's cool to see around 30 cool characters show up, to highlight what I was getting at earlier.

"You're only a genius on this planet," says Rocket to Iron Man.

"There's beer on the ship," says Rocket to Thor.

Rocket's cheek is pacified after a Captain America speech.

Nebula would have made a great terminator.

The scene during the final battle, when all of Marvel's heroines line up to charge, was really cool, so many different personalities, so much compelling character.

Trying to take all of these characters and situate them in a narrative where the franchise moments are endearing rather than sentimental is a herculean task that seems as if it was handled with ease.

Possibly not handled with ease.

3 hours of endeavour that ties 22 films together.

That's never been done.

Who knows if it will ever be done again.

I even saw it twice.

And loved the poetic final moments.

I guess the series keeps going and this film wasn't released three years later and there's plenty more action to come but no more _________.

That's a huge let down.

Realistic, but still a huge let down.

Be cool to see _______ show up in some Indie films though.

There's no doubt ______ still got it.

And ______ may be sick of playing ye olde action ________.

A spoof would be great too.

How come no one spoofs these films?

There's plenty of material.

Spaceballs was very good.

Overload. Can't compute. Overload. Can't compute.

What a spectacle.

A truly incredible milestone.

It was even better the second time.

Too much, just enough, too little?

I still prefer Star Trek and X-Men.

But Marvel's made some great films.

Which are so much fun to watch.

Is it better to have grown up where Marvel is the norm or to have become accustomed to it after having known a different time?

I can't answer that question.

Crazy time for fantasy films though.

Crazy how much things have changed.

Deadpool 2

I returned to my apartment around 2am a year or so ago and decided to throw on Deadpool, having loved it so much the first time I saw it.

I was tired and gaseous and distracted and a bit tipsy and wound-up shutting it off after only having viewed the first half-hour.

I figured it was unfair to judge the film because fatigue and flatulence were both likely preventing me from adoring its paramount trash talk, yet, due to the nature of Deadpool's reckonings, I also thought it appropriate to cast judgment based upon ludicrous criteria ingenuously articulated, as if such inanity was more in tune with the film's blunt charisma, as if in doing so I was being rashly genuine.

Thus, I never watched it again, and even though I still cherish the memories I have of loving it around Valentine's Day as I watched it in theatres à tout seul, and I arrived to see Deadpool 2 in energetic spirits calisthenically adjudicated, I was still worried that it would fail to impress and leave me bewildered and shocked as if I had aged to a point where I no longer got it, where I had become too stilted and bloated, where I had lost touch with the insouciant modes of expression I had studied lackadaisically in my youth, and could no longer intuitively access the mischievous spirits that once characterized so much harmless interrogative free play, like no longer enjoying hot dogs from street vendors in Toronto, even if I only eat vegetarian exemplars of the notorious snack these days, covered in pickles, onions, and corn relish, they're still quite tasty, and fill you up for under $5.

I wasn't disappointed.

The first viewing was a mind-blowing pristine cacophonous array of non-stop well-timed inappropriately pertinent comments unleashed with the untameable fury of well-educated individuals who lack the trust fund to perennially compete in the internship top-heavy elitist postmodern corporate world.

There's no lull, no pause, no moment where gifted writers Rhett Reese, Paul Wernick, and Ryan Reynolds couldn't come up with another hardboiled multilayered remark that obliterates as it coddles or simply celebrates courageously embracing disenfranchised incredulity.

Asserting agency while confronting meaninglessness.

About a week before I saw Deadpool 2 I was wondering what happened to self-referential metaforecasts which critically examine their own narrative threads while simultaneously building them up with paradoxical discursive assertion.

Ryan Reynolds (Deadpool) keeps getting better with age, does anyone play the grizzly sarcastic ferociously charming nerd better?, or has there ever been a better foolish romantic determined endearing smart ass contemplating pan-fried cultural conundrums with cold brazen provocative expertise?

Not that he isn't part of remarkable team that holds Deadpool 2 together, expressing individuality collectively to overcome shortsighted institutionalized supernatural miscalculations.

Like you're watching duty counsels in action.

There's so much more to the film than what I've presented here.

Boom.

Damn it's good.

Terminator Genisys

Commencing once more, this time back where everything began, beginning again to inaugurate forlorn frontiers, Terminator Genisys reimagines its origins, to reflexively commentate, and consecrate anew.

The timeline has changed, as have the order of operations, Skynet incorporating both the personal and the domestic, along with its traditional military allies.

Nebulous nexus, motivate, guide, extend.

The dangers of having a lack of alternative options in the marketplace, monopolistic malfeasance, play an indirect role, Skynet having attracted over a billion customers to its Genisys device, prezoned, its ability to impact massively thereby enhanced, one platform, one strident mechanism.

Mired, fired, and expired, the T-800 (Arnold Schwarzenegger) continues to battle more advanced models, unyieldingly dedicated to protecting Sarah Connor (Emilia Clarke), Kyle Reese (Jai Courtney) doubting his reliability, after travelling back in time, to 1984.

The T-800's really quite touching.

He has an endearing way of expressing himself, and his comic aspects, notably developed in Rise of the Machines, productively flourish, theoretically postulating like STNG's Data, complaining about the shortsighted cruelties of belittling dismissals, and infiltrating a hospital with love in mind to bear.

How he came to love is a matter for the following sequels to discuss, his programming perhaps having become so used to Sarah's comforting presence, to the purpose and companionship with which she constantly provides him, that an artistic subroutine miraculously generated, a jet scream's genesis, Terminator Genisys.

Don't praise the machines Kermode.

Internally within the progressions of the franchise, within the growth of a character over a 31 year span, it does seem as if he loves, as if crying is something he somehow learned to do.

Perchance revolved excused and ruffled.

The franchise does progress, adding a contemporary dimension as previously mentioned, the Dysons (Courtney B. Vance as Miles, Dayo Okeniyi as Danny) showing up again, issues of fate expanding and contracting like predetermined infinities, the O'Brien (Wayne Bastrup/J.K. Simmons) character
functioning like a cooler Dr. Silberman, whom I still would have liked to have seen, they used him so well in T3.

Still shocked by what happens to John Connor (Jason Clarke), but it fits with the anti-monopolistic theme, even if it encourages a nuclear hemorrhage.

To be operated upon in subsequent films.

It's really aware of itself as a franchise now, the Terminator films, so this film relies heavily upon its legacy, there's a stronger sense of independence in the others, like they weren't setting up a trilogy, while still striving for uniformity akin.

Apart from number 4; events from Salvation are ignored.

It isn't that bad. I started liking it after watching it 3 times.

The duplicated scenes lack the intensity of the original.

The dread.

There's no Bill Paxton.

They should have spent more time on those.

Nice to see the franchise alive and kicking.

Tough to think of where it will go, without coming across as excessively dry.

Everyone's together in the end.

They might still be together at the beginning, next time round.

Unheard of.

Looper

Casually steeping the intertextual typography for a poppy paranoid streetwise technovernacular, real horrorshowlike, frenetically interspersing euphoric and trepidatious tremors, bumptiously, offhandedly, and rupturously stimulating abbreviations, while synthesizing an intertemporal suicidal personalized universal, Rian Johnson's Looper ruggedly relies on standard fictionally scientific reflexivities, without deflating their zeppelinesque thermocline, to romanticize a gritty, graphic, gregarious shock, while autosuggesting, an intransitive perpetuity.

As the crow flies.

One loop sees a job well done, followed by a carefree binge, a requisite regression, and vindication through love.

In the other, to sustain and avenge said vindication, a monstrous methodology metastasizes.

Either way the outcome is inevitable.

But a third way does present itself, nurtured by a split-second revelation based upon the prior knowledge of a definitive causeway the agency of which is too much to precondition.

So, rather than embracing what seems like predetermination, the agent spontaneously disorients his 'historical' trek.

Stretching through the void.

Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines

Remember being disappointed when Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines was released in 2003. I liked it when I eventually rented it, but still couldn't shake that "I wish they'd just left it alone" feeling, which had inspired my initial hesitation.

Watched it again a couple of times last weekend and was seriously impressed. It's arguably better than T2 although it depends upon what time in your life you view it/them.

T2 was great when I was a kid (it's still good [I also watched it last weekend]). The apocalypse is averted, the future remains open, and things can reattain a level of relative normalcy if the trauma can be creatively dissimulated.

Solid sci-fi, convincing absurdity, collaborative outlook, intact.

T3 represents a sequel which strategically follows a similar pattern to its predecessor(s), revisiting familiar scenes and situations in order to socialize on the franchise's precedents, while reimagining them with enough mutated historical ingenuity to subtly transmit an evolutionary code.

Without screwing things up.  

Such revisitations are done at great risk for if the scenarios fail to entrance, the predecessor/s quickly begin/s to appear more appealing.

T3's resolution is somewhat less innocent, however (it's much less innocent), which, for those of us who saw T2 when they were 12 and T3 many years later, while still remaining in possession of the firm environmentally friendly conscious T2 shyly promotes, fictionally nurtures a degree of realistic despondency, brought about by an increasingly monolithic technocratic agency's dismissal of environmental concerns (the environmental movement, from what I remember, was stronger in Canada in 1991), by directly working its principle audience's growth into the script, bizarrely taking into account different trends and fashions, while harshly yet romantically preparing them for the post-symbolic (notably when John [Nick Stahl] resignedly yet affirmably utters a cliché when he's flying to Crystal Peak with Catherine Brewster [Claire Danes]).

Hence, within T3, a pagan dimension in touch with the eternal timeline and its intertemporal distortions (whether or not these distortions should be viewed as part of the eternal timeline is up for debate but the evidence provided by T3 suggests they should not) intervenes and ensures that two somewhat unwilling individuals are given a fighting chance to subvert an inevitable machinismo (to continue to fight for a more collaborative playing field against forces possessing incontrovertible resource rich 'class-oriented' biases)(the timeline is reconstituted to the best possible version nature can provide after which its 'unwitting' agents must generally fend for themselves).

And who has returned with updated loveable psychological subroutines? None other than the converted patriarchal killing machine who saw the light (was reprogrammed) and began using his organic metallurgic abilities to protect humanistic interests instead (himself). Much of what his counterpart from T2 learned flows within but now that Mr. Connor's older and realizes what he's up against, his counterarguments to that created by his significant other's interpretation of his childhood memories occasionally lack his youthful antagonistic conviction.

After surviving the intermediary years, he comes to understand the T-101's (Arnold Schwarzenegger) no-nonsense methods.

Mechanically, T-101's primary adversary is a younger more flexible model, but even though he's an older design, this doesn't mean he can't compete.

In regards to the dialogue established by the changing feminine gender paradigms culturalized by the gap between these two sequels, in T2 the only strong female character with knowledge that would make a significant historical difference is locked-up in a mental institution; in T3 the feminine is split, one character representing independent unyielding destructive technocratic oppression, the other, bourgeois stability transformed (consequently) into a fierce warrioress.

In regards to identity, as far as John and Catherine Brewster go, and ignoring the acute crisis the T-101 must face, T3 seems to be suggesting that if you're unclassified or professional (notably in the "you're not exactly my 'type' either" exchange), and if democratic institutions become so diluted that their impact no longer bears any teeth, or a well-funded psychological campaign produces a wide-ranging cynicism regarding their effects even when they're still capable of bearing fruit, you'll both be stuck necessarily contending with an entrenched systemic opponent who had been modestly brought to heel after the Second World War.

Try and think about what Barack Obama would have been able to do then.

Which seems to be T3's prescient message, which could explain the lacklustre reviews it received during the George W. Bush Era. I don't know. But it takes the risk of bombing due to the ways in which it relies so heavily on T2's format and manages to ironically cultivate greener pastures to the contrary, which is a sign of bold writing, and great filmmaking (directed by Jonathan Mostow, screenplay by Michael Ferris and John D. Brancato).

And the Dr. Silverman (Earl Boen) scene is priceless. I'll watch it again just to see that alone.

There's more humour within too, notably the ways in which the 'asocial' terminators affect those they meet, my favourite line being "and, the coffin," subtly reflecting the difficulties the eccentric encounter on a regular basis.

Oh, and considering how much revenue Judgement Day generated, it's hard to believe that it took 12 years for them to release Rise of the Machines.

Men in Black III

The clandestine Men in Black security force is back to monitor Earth's alien activity in the franchise's third instalment, Men in Black III, fully loaded with neuralyzers, inexhaustible technological and knowledge resources, a law enforcing odd couple, and monumental temporal distortions.

Just in time for Summer. 

If the darkness is literally thought of as a nocturnal limiting force within which means of generating light must be creatively produced in order to enable vision (fire, candles, electrical lights), and this literal example is then metaphorically transferred to the domain of patriarchal construction (Men in Black), then perhaps this film is saying that one of the ways in which the male traditionally tends to visualize attempts to quarantine the unknown (the feminine, difference, egalitarianism) is by interminably equipping solid and steady agents of cultural homogeneity with flashy gadgets and binary intergenerational banter which provides the elder with a stubborn and taciturn way of expressing himself (he's seen everything before and seeks to waste no time discussing things) and the younger with an endless supply of frustrated curiosity.      

In Men in Black III we find Agent J (Will Smith) and Agent K (Tommy Lee Jones/Josh Brolin) at work preventing the public from preserving extraterrestrial information. Traditional heteronormative difference is supported while gender bending is not. Of the two most prominent female characters, one is motherly (she has a prominent position in the present but doesn't directly take part in the action), the other, a criminal (who dies early on).  Agent K, who reads the entire menu every time before ordering the same thing, is the more elderly of the two (while the options have multiplied, he remains resistant to change). After Boris the Animal (Jemaine Clement) heads back in time and kills him, Agent J's present turns into a war zone as aliens invade to destroy the Earth. After travelling to the past to save his partner, Agent J is pulled over because police officers are stopping every African American driving a nice car. Agent J has stolen the car and is African American. Now, he has stolen the car to save the perseverance of an unyielding content permanency in order to prevent the Earth's destruction. Meaning that if the side effects of this permanency had been successful in the past they would have resulted in their own annihilation (Agent J escapes).  Yet those very same side effects are indirectly legitimized by Agent J's actions. Which also include monitoring difference to ensure that its multidimensional presence doesn't have a disruptive effect.  

The Men in Black films do directly acknowledge and imaginatively fictionalize the existence of well funded secretive agencies designed to prevent the public from learning, but don't seem to recognize that this is problematic, since they're made to look fun and hip yet rigid and combative.

Like a euphemistic police state.

Which isn't very bright.

Midnight in Paris

Working within a light-hearted quaint sharply crystallized kitschy tradition, presenting thoughtful witty self-aware observations concerning creativity, Woody Allen's Midnight in Paris frankly endures its own self-destructive mechanizations as it simultaneously satirizes and elevates various philosophical/sociological/historical/. . . ical points.

Plus it has time travel.

Gil (Owen Wilson) wants to make the transition from writing screen plays to novels while daydreaming about moving to Paris. He trusts no one with his work, however, as he isn't yet prepared to subsume negative criticisms. He encounters a self-assured erudite slightly pompous handsome individual (Michael Sheen as Paul) to whose clarifications his fiancée (Rachel McAdams as Inez) takes a shine. Gil's able to interject the occasional colourful contradiction after travelling back in time to the Paris of the 1920s (which he proceeds to do every evening at midnight) and learning various facts about Hemingway (Corey Stoll), F. Scott Fitzgerald (Tom Hiddleston), Picasso (Marcial Di Fonzo Bo), and . . . first hand, facts which Inez is quick to dismiss because he occupies a less prestigious position.

In the order of things.

Travelling through time raises some interesting points, most of which have likely been mentioned before. Would the novelty of a 21st century kitschy work make it seem literary in the early 20th? Would the novelty of taking a writer and placing him within a 21st century manifestation of the 1920s seem literary from a 21st century filmic perspective? Would the novelty of a literary comedic 21st century filmic perspective seem incisive from an atemporal disengaged discursive non-committal self-reflexive perspective? Would an atemporal disengaged discursive non-committal self-reflexive perspective seem comedic from the point of view of a dedicated modernist cultivating a particular artistic market, working within broad guidelines, an aspect, in reaction to Victorian counterpoints?

Bears.

Hemingway's lines become increasingly trite as Gil's gain critical momentum. As Gil comes closer to situating himself within a burgeoning movement's jouissance, his confidence increases. As his confidence increases within the imaginary, his stability pleasantly deteriorates in the symbolic.

And he succeeds.

Is Gil the greatest kitschy-filmic-literary-atemporal-discursive-disengaged-perpetually-productive sprout ever?

Perhaps, although, with the passing of time, these answers seem harder and harder to ephemerally tether to a shape shifting transformative meteorology, within which moments coyly whisper, "by the light of the sickle moon."

lol

Source Code

Duncan Jones's Source Code maintains a peculiar relationship with law and order. The overt dimension is sound enough: transport someone back to a moment in time located within an alternative parallel reality and have them discover information that can help stop terrorists when they are transported home. This is what Colter Stevens (Jake Gyllenhaal) does in subsequent 8 minute intervals throughout as he tries to find out who planted a bomb on a passenger train bound for Chicago. Each time he is sent back, he's encouraged to detect the necessary information by any means necessary, with no concern for the effects his actions might cause to that alternative parallel reality. Hence, in order to fight terrorism in one reality criminal acts can be committed in another. If these alternative parallel realities don't exist this isn't a problem, but if they do, and they obviously do insofar as Colter is repeatedly transferred to them, it is an extremely serious problem, serious enough to destabilize source code's legitimacy. Justifying your pursuit of law in order in one dimension by any means necessary in another is distasteful to say the least and Source Code would have been a stronger film if this fact and its associated ramifications had been brought to the forefront.

Hot Tub Time Machine

Was looking forward to taking a dip in Steve Pink's Hot Tub Time Machine but found it's waters far to tepid. It's fun watching three old friends reinvestigating their youth back in time at their favourite ski resort, but I never developed a bond with any of the characters, felt its crude emphasis was often nasty, couldn't get into most of the "reliving their youth with a 21st century twist" bits, and patiently waited for a montage that never came. At the same time, watching John Cusack (Adam) get ridiculously wasted on multiple substances while pining for a lost love was funny, the humour's dry yet over the top like a well mixed self-aware chocolate martini (so self-aware it's aware that being self-aware is becoming cliché unless you conceal your self-awareness), going back to the 80s for a romp including John Elway's famous Drive caught my attention, and it was nice to see Crispin Glover (Phil) heroically stealing scenes. My "make-it-or-break-it" Hot Tub Time Machine factors came down to Chevy Chase and the dynamics of time travel. I often like integral non-sequiturs and the ways in which they complicate things, but I couldn't help being annoyed by the repair man's babble and the fact that he didn't simply lay things out like Back to the Future's Doctor Emmett Brown. The answers were probably there, cleverly encoded with idioms and innuendo, but I found them as confusing as Adam's accidentally-along-for-the-ride-nephew, Jacob (Clark Duke), and potentially will never see their mysteries revealed (something deeper than the forbidden substance found in the Russian red bull). Unless in twenty years I travel back in time and have to see Hot Tub Time Machine again in order to maintain the integrity of the space/time continuum. If that happens, I'll search for the hidden meaning while making sure to hit the gym and eat solidified carbohydrates.