Gypsy 83

Bucolic fashions habitually annoy Gypsy Vale as she randomly fluctuates, moving more style to quip to inspiration as concrete dissonance mundanely obscures.

Her friend Clive offers flamboyant accompaniment as they shoot videos and intuitively experiment, their cohesive bond actively facilitating insouciant fun and alternative brokerage. 

One day they learn of an upcoming talent show to be exotically held in New York City, where they've unfortunately never been but would love to energetically check out.

Gypsy's mom couldn't handle the 'burbs and reluctantly moved there years ago, Gypsy hoping to somehow reestablish contact during the voyage although she's still rather angry.

Their road trip adventure spontaneously begins and they soon find themselves travelling state to state, with improvised stops and inconclusive reckonings emergently enabling freeform postures. 

Their keen choice of clothes and elaborate makeup lead to complications as they flourish.

In a world inarticulately composed.

Foolishly observed with dismissive resonance (they run into a lot of flack). 

Good vibes and genuine friendship impressionably motivate in Gypsy 83, as creative sincere individuals find expression through play and fantasy.

Although woe does abound and wherever they go criticisms arise, their inevitable championing of the blasé reverberates dependable amicable rhythms. 

Even amongst their fellow misfits dispiriting vitriol enervatingly erupts, the critical world fraught with intense snobbery which is often more destructive than lowbrow ignorance. 

The Amish hitchhiker adds some flare as they enthusiastically drive along, with complications eventually devastating the inaugural window harmless and playful.

So irritating that so much sadness has to consistently be resiliently overcome, a less vituperative cultural consensus open-mindedly applied leading to less bitterness.

An active life helps the criticisms fade while tenderly engaged in novel exploration.

Tough to believe in a country as dynamic as the U.S.

There aren't more than a handful of chill cities to live in.

Excluding contemporary times. 

*Criterion keyword: lounge.

Malone

Endurance.

Strength.

Confidence.

Reliability.

The airtight Malone sees the introduction of a hard-boiled trusted dependable soldier, who's worked covert operations for many a year and finally decided it's time to retire.

But it's a job you can't walk away from he knows too much and is much too valuable, his old school no-nonsense management team unwilling to simply let him go.

He's been in the service for decades and has finally started to find murder distasteful, even if he's taking out scurrilous atrocities he's no longer thrilled to surgically discombobulate. 

Unfortunately his car breaks down in a beautiful small town as he tries to disappear, a town which is slowly being bought up by a jingoistic millionaire with fascist dreams.

The people were initially glad when he arrived because they thought he would reopen the mine, but after he pushed so many off their land grand disillusion distressingly set in.

Malone just tries to peacefully exist but the plutocrat's goons try to push him around.

Even after they realize they're far outmatched.

Bring on the classic 1980s ending.

Malone offers an entertaining case study in different conceptions of the man's man, the one brutal and monopolizing, the other fierce but kind at heart.

With good intentions, the well-meaning man seeks integration within his community, and to peacefully exist alongside others generally seeking communal development.

He's confident and trustworthy but can still be hurt if caught off guard, diligent and steady, rigorous and bold, but not full-on invincible.

Thought to potentially be a huge dickhole by people worried he'll seek absolute control, but more attuned to mutual cooperation and the democratic rights of the individual.

Not such a bad ideal to live up to if you ever consider tempestuous codes.

A cool old school traditional action film.

Modest and endearing.

Inherently wild.

Sanjuro

The improvised planning of the itinerant samurai much more fluid in the cerebral Sanjuro, after a group of younger emboldened citizens discover a plot to dispose of an elder.

The samurai meets them by chance on a world-weary voyage leading to their door, where they innocently plan their audacious activities with impulsive daring and simplistic fortitude. 

Little do they know, they're being surrounded by the very same scoundrels they hope to challenge, who have brought at least 100 men to unceremoniously ambush them.

The samurai uncovers the plot and quickly overcomes his habitual boredom, immediately employing his requisite cunning like a grand-chess-master to outmaneuver the danger.

He swiftly realizes the group is honourable and therefore decides to offer his protection, putting advanced logic and reason to work in the adventurous aid of the sublime do-gooders.

But his lacklustre bearing his indolent mood doesn't quickly win over their skeptical hearts, especially since he drinks too much saké and at crucial times seems distant and irritated. 

They find when they listen to his strategic counsel they usually outwit their foes nevertheless.

And after much heated arguing amongst themselves, eventually agree to suffer his temper.

Not as explosive as many a chaotic borderline reckless wild samurai movie, but still quite endearing to strategic minds who truly love spur-of-the-moment planning.

Truly like an active chess game where each single move must be delicately balanced, the hardboiled yet caring demonstrative leader entertaining his students while refuting their folly (like the opposite of Trump's daily antics).

It's fun to watch as they impudently quarrel with the wise honest master lending a hand, alas no matter how many times he saves them they still adamantly doubt his chill erudition. 

The samurai is thrilling to watch if you like free confident ingenious odd heroes, whose skills are so genuinely imposing they take spectacular risks as if they were simply gardening (with bears).

Like a formidable saviour guarding the just from bellicose foolishness in corrupt mortal lands, the warrior proceeds with ethical daring even though he could have kept wandering alone.

From village to village the unruly countryside curiously wondering who will suddenly show up.

And add some spice to bucolic life.

At times routine, yet never overdone. 

Pokolenie (A Generation)

In occupied Poland in 1942, a group of courageous citizens unite, and bravely fight back against Nazi oppression, while looking towards a much brighter future.

Youthful Stach has never worked before and spends his time stealing from trains as they pass, but after his friend is shot by a lone watchful guard he hesitantly decides to try something new.

He's fortunately introduced to strong nimble workers serendipitously in search of a bold new apprentice, who take him in and teach him the basics through focused yet awkward diligent trial and error.

A conversation with one of the older hardworking determined reliable journeypeople, leads to a meeting of likeminded souls unilaterally eager to end Nazi rule.

In their company, he fortuitously finds he has requisite skills he never knew he possessed, his innate resiliency of substantial benefit as he recruits and carries out missions for the resistance.

He's able to assemble a discreet active unite who efficiently engages in covert operations. 

Their latent daring and inherent resolve dynamically leading to lauded camaraderie. 

Difficult days, inordinately tempered by effective spirited active teamwork, smoothly co-ordinated by conscientious compassionate caring ethical individuals.

The overwhelming authority the imposing restrictions far far far too much for any citizen to bear, especially while living within your homeland beneath the hardhearted heals of another nation.

I've often wondered how they organized different resistance movements in Europe during World War II, and how they ran with such fluid dependability and consistently thwarted Nazi ambitions. 

Multilateral interpretive skills imaginatively create multivariable conditions. 

Thrilling to plan something concrete and definitive. 

While constantly engaged in fluctuating experiment. 

Shin Zatôichi: Yabure! Tôjin-ken (Zatoichi and the One-Armed Swordsman)

Across the multivariable definitive lands of bellicose old school Japan, Zatoichi continues to awkwardly progress in search of honour and friendship and loyalty.

Unfortunately, his enduring prowess leads those who would traditionally salute his daring, to mistrust his holistic self-sacrifice as he haplessly seeks to help them.

Strict absolutes murderously upheld haunt his path in this instalment, as an adventurous family visiting from China runs afoul of ancient custom.

Indeed as the lauded clan leader austerely passes in procession along the road, those in front of him must free the way and humbly kneel and bow and worship.

But a Chinese child's long cherished kite suddenly takes off in front of them as they pass, the swordspeople immediately responding with rancour and consequently murdering strangers in their midst.

A one-armed swordsperson also visiting from China valiantly defends the un-armed innocents, only to be blamed for the resultant massacre and viciously hunted in the shocking aftermath.

Sometime after he flees he encounters Zatoichi with the aghast child, Zatoichi unable to understand his language, but as luck would have it, the boy can translate.

They stealthily stride and furtively fascinate until they find shelter amongst the survivors.

But after Zatoichi departs to gather supplies.

He's erroneously blamed for revealing their location. 

You see people who are interested in the same things curiously associating with one another online, without having to worry about nation or culture the similar interests promoting cohesive bonds.

Dispiritingly, the disseminators of widespread mistrust also prosper online, and miserably challenge the international forums within which global communities thrive and flourish.

Star Trek's universal translator certainly eases linguistic burdens, and makes cross-cultural convivial communication much more generally verbose and heartfelt.

We're not there yet but translating devices are consistently improving year after year, in twenty years I reasonably imagine a similar device may in fact exist.

Back in the day, such a miraculous enabling would have engendered dialogue between Zatoichi and the One-Armed Swordsman, and they would not have had to recklessly engage in a lethal death battle to settle the score.

Perhaps with ameliorated time and animate progressions we'll get there one day.

As the intuitive ideas of younger generations.

Make political headway worldwide. 

Zatôichi jigoku-tabi (Zatoichi and the Chess Expert)

Zatoichi continues to travel throughout Japan, his destination still unknown, his adversaires multiplying.

Unfortunately, due to blindness, knaves and thieves seek to tear him down, but after his brilliant swordpersonship highlights their folly, they vow revenge even though they started it.

Such proceedings regularly occur and he is stuck routinely defending himself, with a high price upon his versatile head, and an inhibiting disability difficult to conceal.

He doesn't make friends either as he regularly cheats people at dice, tricking them into cheating themselves and then critiquing their lack of honesty.

He meets an itinerant master and strikes up a spirited inquisitive acquaintance, the two voyaging by boat together while earning a living as best they can.

But Zatoichi also meets other travellers who passionately seek the samurai who killed their father, and know nothing about him definitively besides the fact that he's quite good at chess.

Moral dilemmas further bewilder as he learns he once murdered the husband of the woman and child he cares for.

Democracy and social justice still hundreds of years away.

Consistent sword fights altruistically emerging.

Had he not learned to ingeniously defend himself Zatoichi the Blind may have flagged and rusted, and never known the voltaic thrill of characteristic difference and pursuits unknown.

Yet even possessing the adventurous intuition so often dismissed by people with sight, he encounters neverending lethal conflict to which he must respond indefinitely.

Sad how the legendary samurai traditionally found within these films, have so much trouble working together and often end up in life or death duels.

Both thoroughly convinced their path is just and in no need of ethical alterations, they eventually must challenge the breathtaking entities who vigorously contradict their chosen way of life.

Thus without the onset of unions they must remain vigilant at all times.

Never embracing the peace of dreams.

Eternal conflict.

Bitter remorse.

*Postmodern samurai could focus on protecting whales and dolphins! 🐋

**Criterion keyword: motif

Hidalgo

It never really made much difference to me what College or University you went to, or if you learned esoteric details about different branches of knowledge while on the job, what mattered was how enthusiastically you applied yourself to whatever hand you happened to have been dealt, and how you strove for improvement regardless of class or birth, which generally reflects the spirit of the times I grew up in.

Thus, it wouldn't surprise me if Community College students were also making breakthroughs in respective fields, as Frank Hopkins does in Hidalgo, in the competitive sport of horse racing. 

He didn't get his trusted steed from a well-off breeder publicizing coveted lineage, or even from a local stable offering beginners a tempting free ride, instead he chose his trusted mount from a herd of wild mustangs in Oklahoma, whose descendants still freely ride to this day, un jour j'espère les voir.

He gains a world renowned reputation for winning long distance races in the United States, indeed winning an incredible number throughout his lengthy career.

His reputation becomes so enviable that he attracts the attention of Middle-Eastern competitors, who challenge him to the toughest horse race on the planet, a 3,000 mile trek 'cross forbidding deserts.

He's a first class gamer, he courageously responds, with neither question nor concern for personal safety, even after it becomes apparent his life's at risk, and it's not only the elements who seek to hunt him.

He must face some of the finest stallions to have ever been bred in horse racing history, amongst opponents who doubt he will survive one day on his wild unsung beast who lacks proper pedigree.

But as so often happens in the world of sport which usually celebrates talent regardless of rank or birth, Hopkins and Hidalgo really are the best the world's ever seen, and tenaciously win the "Ocean of Fire".

Exceptionally difficult to do and requiring a genuine degree of hard work and sacrifice, but if raised in even a moderately honest political system, if you excel, you should modestly prosper.

Hopkins takes his prize money and doesn't spend it on lavish trinkets, but rather hears that a herd of mustangs is going to be shot, and pays handsomely for them to be released back into the wild (Go Broncos!) 💌

Born of two-cultures and horrified to have witnessed the scurrilous slaughter of unarmed Native peoples, he proceeds honourably as best he can and must be one of the most successful athletes ever.

It'd be cool to see Viggo Mortensen win the Best Actor Oscar some day.

He's had a lot of roles like this one.

Where it seems like he's holding so much back.

*Unlike Captain Fantastic.

The Thing from Another World

Finally watched the original film depicting John W. Campbell's story Who Goes There?, which is much more of a lighthearted romp than the chilling masterpiece hewn by John Carpenter. 

It's Science vs. The Military in 1951 and in The Thing from Another World the army reigns supreme, the resident scientists made to look like fools who can't reasonably understand the imminent danger.

In fact the scientists take great risks in the pursuit of knowledge to save the monster, who rebukes their heartfelt efforts with morose haughty intergalactic derision. 

They even have foreign accents and are much more internationally inclined, facets which latently upset the good old commandos who quickly take charge of the distressing scene.

The pursuit of knowledge is indeed not nearly as reckless as its dismissively portrayed in this film, which came out as ruthless McCarthyism was ignorantly spreading across the U.S.

The Thing is even organic in this version it comes from a far off vegetal world, where veggies evolved to become the dominant lifeform as humanoids did upon our own (although I'm starting to think bees are a higher form of life [they have wings]). 

In the film the military worries that the highly advanced commie vegetable from space, will eventually take over the entire planet and no doubt unleash ubiquitous environmentalism. 

The scientists look like mad unAmerican conspirators as they struggle to save the alien.

Imagine a time when this kind of thing proliferated.

Hopefully it never comes to pass again.

At least one scientist must be crazy in Who Goes There? since one of them loses it in The Thing (1982) as well, although his data makes hysterical sense considering how much more adaptive it is in Carpenter's film.

Whereas The Thing from Another World is happy-go-lucky sci-fi within which you'd never expect anything to go wrong, Carpenter's Thing is a chilling opus where it's tough to imagine anything going right.

If you watch monster movies throughout your life because they exist and you're sporadically curious, it's tough to find ones you want to watch again, since a lot of them just seek to make quick casholla.

But every once in a while visionary directors roguishly emerge to offer something different.

And take their time to craft memorable metastases. 

With alarming accuracy.

And emboldened vision.

*It looks like Carpenter was fun to work for. It seems like some of his casts really enjoyed working together when you watch his films. That kind of thing can add so much to an aesthetic, or ironically create a friendly dreamlike counterbalance to the mayhem. 

The Fog

The bounteous coast rests undisturbed as a sleepy town's one-hundredth anniversary approaches, with celebrations planned and local dignitaries convivially extolling its historic virtues. 

Village life exuberantly proclaims distracting designations with robust levity, the festivities raising ebullient concerns regarding flights of furtive fancy.

Nevertheless, on the exultant eve a local priest embraces spirited whimsy, when a sudden shocking burst reveals a diary hidden within his walls.

The tale told within its pages describes scandal and betrayal, in terms of lucrative auriferous booty disillusionally constrained.

Best laid plans were thrown aside as a leprous colony was cruelly cheated, indeed instead of finding themselves a home their boat was led to crash upon the shore.

But the rocks didn't eternally tear the trusting ship forevermore asunder, its reconstitution phantominiously conveyed from the afterlife back to the ocean.

And on the very same date the town was founded it bitterly returns under cover of fog.

Contemporary inhabitants blissfully unaware.

A local DJ keeping them up to precarious speed.

Kind of nice when fog descends assuming you aren't travelling or working outside, the meteorological difference eccentrically billowing throughout the quizzical byzantine landscape.

Imagine the chaos if the definitive border dividing spiritual realms enigmatically decayed, and aggrieved spirits from far and wide universally re-materialized across the land.

Like the ending of Ghostbusters I suppose but trepidatiously globalized for postmodern import, the eclectic confusion and ahistorical equivalencies generating confounding limitless grievance.

It could be like a labyrinthine colossus of atemporal bewildered feuding, the manifold steps in the gothic epic as mesmerizing as any R.E.M spectacle. 

If there was time to chronicle the disputes the resultant absurdity may manifest calm.

A quiet regenerative cross-cultural splurge.

A lot of reading.

For something so dream-like.

*I've almost seen every John Carpenter movie.

Cutthroat Island

Born into the pirating lifestyle nimble Morgana instinctually dissembles, wary of trust yet a Captain indeed after her emboldened father is scurrilously betrayed. 

Her crew isn't sure what to think and she must challenge an usurper egads at the outset, her noble lineage fortunately enough to momentarily win over the superstitious complement.

Along with treasure, the knowledge of treasure its lucrative existence at least under consideration, but to exactingly locate it she needs two more sections of a sought after map, one part apiece held by each of her uncles.

One uncle's no doubt rather chill for someone living a mischievous lifestyle, not that he's easy to find or talk to he's just so much more agreeable than his aggressive counterpart. 

The covetous uncle murderously prone who sincerely sent Morgana's pop to frigid depths, isn't quite so avuncularly inclined as she bravely sets out in search of manifest booty.

A loyal cadre rests by her side unwilling to entertain freeform mutinous chatter.

An idle thief introducing an amorous wild card.

Uncanny insistence not to be trusted?

What a strange lifestyle how do you manage to even find markets for your ill-gotten plunder, or obtain a ship or convince a crew to courageously follow you blind on the ocean?

It may be relaxing out on open waters delicately gliding along currents without storm, if you had reached an ingenious understanding with tempestuous fate to contract sights forlorn.

I've often wondered if I would get seasick if an imposing storm suddenly emerged, or if I would just sit back and curiously watch as the incredible spectacle tumultuously unfolded.

I was stuck far from home in my kayak one day when a disturbing storm suddenly dishevelled, but rather than simply land and wait it out under some trees I paddled right through the heart of the tirade.

There was no thunder and lightning and if there had been I may have hit shore.

It was a cool sensation out there on the lake nonetheless.

Paddling through inhospitable bearings.

Cutthroat Island's not so bad if you like pirate movies they don't come out as often as you'd hope, the treasure's buried in a really cool spot that was a nice touch no doubt to be certain.

Must be fun to film out on the ocean the natural elements corresponding at play. 

With all the old ships as well.

The action's consistent and lively. 

Bedknobs & Broomsticks

If the world somehow is an elaborate computer program far too intricate and complex to be deciphered, enticing clues bewilderingly illuminating ephemeral features from time to time, then perhaps such a program indeed scrutably encourages the experimental study of magic, peculiar words and nonsensical sayings at times im/materializing the byzantine matrix.

With no television or lively books to asymmetrically animate for thousands of years, creative peeps were left to improvisationally conjure with inspired wordplay to pass the millennia.

The matrix no doubt multivariably arrayed with extraordinarily advanced multilayered codes (prone to mutation), random thoughts and stray meanderings no doubt appearing like miraculous magic.

If someone was somehow born with a heightened degree of latent microcomputational moxie, gregariously gifted or hypertextually attuned, they could perhaps intuit manifold enchanting mélanges which in turn would seem like bewitching spells.

But such knowledge, atypically obtained, may lead to periodic problematized predicaments, when unheralded random unexpected individuals effectively emerged with historic independence. 

Sensing a challenge to orthodox hegemonies these sorcerers were traditionally met with rancour, the sure and steady domesticization of sensation much more reliable and routinely applauded.

Eventually science and medicine found clever ways to outwit them however, and emboldened unsung wizards and witches began sharing their experimental work.

Through the creation of accessible journals they could work together as an international eclective, and gradually build upon one another's work to eventually create the postmodern world.

As science became more bold and the international network more habitually astounding, the computational framework of the natural environment began to present itself with enlightened dignity. 

Still far too advanced to suddenly unravel with universal elasticity, the meticulous stewardship of the magical journals discovering different aspects piece by piece.

Perhaps far too complex for even a dependable millennia of journalling to understand, the knowledge and hypotheses still collectively remain to encourage growth and metaphysical realism.

Loved Bedknobs & Broomsticks in my youth and it suddenly popped into my head during the winter, the classic blend of live action and animation brought to life with a wholesome macabre touch.

Within the magic of knights and animals contends with brutal mechanized efficiency. 

With the help of intuitive wonder.

Probably still a cool film for young families. 

*Written on eclipse day. 

Stillwater

A father whose tumultuous routine led to an awkward relationship with his struggling family (Matt Damon as William), is consumed with obsessive guilt several years later when his daughter's arrested (Abigail Breslin as Allison). 

She's found guilty of resonant murder and sent to prison near the coast of Marseille, her father visiting her there when he can, the flights expensive, work hard to find.

She emphatically proclaims her innocence and on his most recent visit reveals a clue, which gives him reemergent hope as he soon tries to get her case reopened. 

Obdurately blocked however by pressing realities within the law, he buckles-down and radically adjudicates by trying to find the suspect himself.

Problems: he doesn't speak French and is oblivious to local custom, he's also spent most of his life in the rural American mid-west and is generally uncertain as to how to proceed.

Moving forward nevertheless fate soon secures a definitive lead, and provides shelter and cultural refinement not to mention employment and domestic salvation. 

But to find the irascible murderer he may have to pay too high a price.

Caught between cultures and families. 

He instinctually reacts with western-style gusto. 

Expediently extemporary the ethical dilemmas contract and metastasize, no easy answers no glib illumination as a hard-boiled family deals with its own.

As newfound chances wholesomely radiate and enlivened parenthood intricately seasons, bad decisions still surreally occupy a bitter frustrated entombed consciousness. 

He's willing to risk everything he's gained on an assuréd probability which crosses the streams, if things work out, tout va bien toujours, if they fall apart, it's worse than worst case.

Not only that, it soon becomes apparent that his daughter's innocence is not that clear-cut, and that the investigation held in accordance may not have been led quite so far astray.

I wouldn't have taken such a risk new life's far too precious for improvised risk management, it does bring about the sought after ends, but they could have been achieved through less threatening means. 

In terms of a neo-western-film-noir mind*^*& Tom McCarthy's Stillwater internationally succeeds nonetheless.

Nothing quite like amoral gristle.

Destitute detritus.

Mid-winter mayhem. 

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. 

The Nine Lives of Christmas

As Christmas rapidly approaches, a local firefighter festively complains, for having to take part in a photo shoot, he likes helping out, but it's not his thing (Brandon Routh). 

Across town, a caring lass laments that she has no time for the holidays, between work and studying to become a vet her schedule's full of pressing demands (Kimberley Sustad). 

But her friends think she should date or at least go out from time to time, and insist she agreeably join them for a low-key night out 'round town.

Meanwhile, a homeless cat finds his way over to Mr. Stone's house, and even though he dislikes responsibility, he still takes in the loving stray.

Seemingly unconnected events consistently ensure they bump into each other, and it soon becomes convivially evident that they were tarred with the same independent brush.

Hence since they're not really used to dating it's difficult to recognize the perfect match.

As they humbly mess things up while trying to not to appear genuinely interested.

The cat keeps wholeheartedly mewing and ensuring adorability's infused, the life and times of exasperated awestruck heartfelt exploration bewilderingly shewed.

Could it be that the animal kingdom subliminally facilitates human relationships?

Without the wayward kitty these two ideally matched impeccable soulmates, would have never engaged in the inquisitive parlay sincerely required to proactively pair bond. 

Perhaps through cosmic accident the natural world's inherent beauty, coincidentally helps the romantically inefficient to eventually sight discover one another.

But does the clever work of Mother Nature holistically emit its conjugal magic, throughout the entire year, while emphasizing Christmas?

Does she know precisely where and when the perfectly matched oddball couple will meet, and ensure a captivating critter will correspondingly instigate conversation?

This likely happened regularly long before the industrial age, for thousands of years while uncommitted bachelors and tribal women were torn asunder!

Perhaps even at a time when presents and trees weren't yet anticipated, a fledgling Santa even assisted in her collective amicable pursuits.

Until Satan introduced economic chaos and the destruction of the natural world began.

Global warming transforming worldwide l'amour.

With preposterous disproportionate impunity. 😜

The Rainmaker

Struggling to find anything amidst multitudinous mechanized mayhem, a would-be lawyer strives for steady employment, having already diligently found two potential cases to call his own, he needs a flexible support network, a trusted home away from home (Matt Damon as Rudy Baylor). 

He doesn't have an apartment either but in conversation with a client, secures room and board in her backyard a rather nice place off the beaten track.

He fortunately finds someone to work for but soon a lawsuit comes a' callin', and he's forced to abandon the practise and create a new one of his own.

A resilient legal aid resourcefully assists his fledgling endeavours (Danny DeVito as Deck Shifflet), the two forging a dynamic team harnessing practical and constructive knowledge.

Medical insurance fraud indeed becomes their driving ethical focus, while an extremely distressing spousal abuse case takes up most of Baylor's free time.

They're up against a corporate team who offers them a settlement at the outset, but daring Baylor digs in deep and decides to challenge them in court.

Meanwhile, he's visiting Ms. Riker (Claire Danes) to offer counsel when her husband returns. 

Literally in the fight of his life.

He responds with reciprocal reckoning. 

The direct just how things go realistic hands-on overt narrative, leaving nothing to chance or whimsy everything presented as plain as day.

The latent dream overwhelming at times to simply tell it like it is, with lucid manifest striking composure bravely detailing complex dissonance.

I'd argue you'd have more success with this style or perhaps find a much larger audience, incumbent mystery and bewildering bantha not as appealing from time to time.

With relativity applied however there are manifold layers of concrete communication, one startling stark steady statement taking on several alternative significations.

Thus Dickens or Proust may seem out of touch if you focus intently on John Grisham (which I did in high school [even visiting Oxford, Mississippi {dad wanted to see Faulkner's homestead which was in the area}]), but if you train and practise and up your game you'll learn to harmonize the three.

The Rainmaker presents potential realities with appealing incandescent virtue. 

I loved reading John Grisham in my youth.

Along with ye olde Anne Rice.  

*Also love reading Faulkner.

**Co-starring Mickey Rourke (Bruiser Stone), Danny Glover (Judge Tyrone Kipler), Jon Voight (Leo F. Drummond), Mary Kay Place (Dot Black), Dean Stockwell (Judge Hale), Virginia Madsen (Jackie Lemancyzk), and Roy Scheider (Wilfred). 

Mandabi

The potential acquisition of a significant sum encourages excitement within a devout family, wives eager to eat rather well, a husband thinking about making loans to his friends. 

A grievous problem distresses nevertheless since he has no identification to speak of, and needs a birth certificate to cash the money order, and has no experience with bureaucracy.

It's awkward to watch as a predatory legion of pouncing perpetrators cheat and swindle him, his innate good nature abounding with trust yet rather unaccustomed to banks and business.

His heart's a good one and he encourages charity and likes to help out whenever he can, the arguments he makes to justify his largesse soundly structured and honestly thriven. 

But his country has yet to introduce public education and many are unfamiliar with dissolute tricks, remaining faithful and full of goodwill yet at times oblivious to the wolves surrounding.

Even with sound education the situation mutates and new issues develop, imagine how much simpler and more enjoyable things would be if you didn't have to take so many possibilities into consideration.

It's baffling to see so many of the same issues still manifesting within the news, as thoughts of progression from one's memorable childhood tempt thoughts of sociocultural disillusionment.

Teachers often genuinely care for the cultural well-being of their students, and provide relevant applicable advice that can be of great benefit in the world at large.

They can teach you a lot about advertising and how various schemes are trying to cheat you, if you learn how to spot them you may save a great deal and not look foolish from time to time.

Unfortunately, the world of commerce is intently aware of the challenge of teachers, and the ways in which such challenges decrease their profits and make it harder for them to trick you.

I often imagine that's why teaching is so severely criticized in the U.S and not as well-paid in some jurisdictions as it is in continental Europe.

As teachers try to help people learn how to avoid being cheated, the people cheating them accuse them of treachery and decrease their wages and credibility in turn.

Does a trusty glass of red wine every evening attempt to cheat you within such a scenario, or does it deconstruct the inconsistency with relevant ethereal coherent reckoning?  

Good music aligned with your tastes makes a strong complement harmoniously speaking. 

A figure eight, another Jets playoff win.

A walk down the boulevard.

The most recent exhibit. 

Battle Beyond the Stars

A peaceful world universally renowned for its lighthearted communal levity, is suddenly threatened with total destruction, by a lethal tyrant and his mutant army, who possesses a formidable weapon. 

The planet lacks technological distinction but at one time created a ship, to explore the surrounding stars with inquisitive pluck and attuned recognition. 

In their darkest hour of woe of young adventurer commands this vessel (Richard Thomas as Shad), and sets out in search of mercenaries to defend them from the ruthless Sador (John Saxon). 

His courageous exploration is soon audaciously rewarded, as he's able to find able bodied romantics eager to fight a hopeless battle.

Even though scant retribution can be fortuitously paid, they fight resolutely with stalwart will for resounding intergalactic accolades. 

A curious cast of alien life is correspondingly assembled, from diverse realms with eclectic creeds vigorously applied to the newfound mission.

Not to mention inchoate love hectically maturing in the heat of battle.

For two brave modest souls.

Attuned to devout strife.

Playful sci-fi often flops but you could do worse than Battle Beyond the Stars, whose mischievous investigative libido strives in bold rambunctious posture.

Heavily influenced by Star Wars not to mention Star Trek and Seven Samurai, it still brazenly crafts a randy wide-eyed contumacious original vortex.

It plays clever tricks with expectations at times, notably the potential Cantina-like homage, which turns out to be a generally deserted planet, Jimmy T. Murakami 1, J.J.Abrams, 0.

From ceremonious synthetics to vehement Valkyries, Murakami reconstructs the imagination in space, I applaud his bold respect for Seven Samurai, not easy to pull off forlorn amongst the stars.

I searched to find an article claiming that most of the actors from Battle Beyond had had guest Star Trek appearances. I didn't find one (boring!). Levels of postmodern nerd-dom still haven't reached ecstatic heights! 

Sometimes, every scene within a film takes on a lifeforce of its own, the accumulated resonance of the trails and errors constituently reverberating notwithstanding.

For fans of alternative sci-fi I'd say Battle Beyond the Stars can't be missed.

Awkward. Innocent. Daring. Uncanny.

Why not throw in some mutants?

Can't speak to its lasting influence. 

*Here's a cool list of celebrity guest star appearances on Star Trek.

Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas

Two friends choose a different path upon the raging seven seas, one upholding peace and spellbound honour, the other engaged in piracy.

They meet one fateful day when a mythical beast attacks one of their ships, as the other tries to rob it, he's after the seminal Book of Peace.

As is the covetous Goddess of Chaos (Michelle Pfeiffer as Eris) who has to admit she finds Sinbad (Brad Pitt) attractive, so adorable she maddeningly establishes a series of treacherous tests for him and his crew.

But first she disguises herself as Sinbad and lets herself be seen stealing the Book from Syracuse, where nobles have gathered from across the land(?) to take in its ethereal wisdom.

Sinbad swears, "'twas not I", but the royalty stubbornly refuse to believe him, and sentence him to a violent death, from which there's no escape.

Unless his childhood friend (Joseph Fiennes as Proteus) should agree to take his forlorn place, and triumphantly await his valiant return from the Realm of Chaos with the Book.

Accompanying him on the journey is Proteus's illustrious betrothéd (Catherine Zeta-Jones as Marina), whom Sinbad's loved since the moment he first saw her, so many years ago.

Thus should one consider honour he or she will find it on display, in this bold and virtuous undertaking known as Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas.

Purists may critique the interpretive flair presumed to adjust the recourse to legend, but who's to say with authentic pluck what really took place so long ago?

If perhaps concerned with specific volumes canonically upheld as verifiable postage, a difference of opinion may sapiently simmer, but the film was made when the '90s still held sway (2003), and there were so many multitudinous creative ruptures. 

I can't say I kept in touch with currents and trends for the past 20 years, as their vicissitudes mutated into newfound critical and philosophical voyages.

It seems that relativity no longer holds sway however as an advisor may have mentioned, even though ethically and experientially it makes more sense than other less inclusive strategies. 

It was always generally heartwarming to think historical figures were being lightheartedly re-imagined, but it seems like perhaps the purists are still intent on re-establishing a more rigid code.

With Putin on the warpath there's no mistaking absolutist pretensions. 

Trump, the Plague, Putin.

Why ever leave the island of Montréal?

No Way Out

Senseless racist irrationality destructively wallowing away, after an African American doctor (Sidney Poitier as Dr. Luther Brooks) attempts to save a life, and his truly sick patient passes.

The doctor just joined the profession having recently passed a requisite exam, and even though he's confident enough to make decisions, he still seeks guidance from established professionals. 

When his patient arrived the other night Dr. Brooks didn't have much time to make the call, Mr. Biddle (Dick Paxton as Johnny Biddle) had been shot during an attempted robbery, and was desperately clinging to life.

Dr. Brooks made a call nevertheless which the patient's brother attentively witnessed (Richard Widmark), after tormenting the humble doctor because he was born with black skin.

After the patient passed, another doctor appeared in the room (Stephen McNally as Dr. Dan Wharton), and Dr. Brooks honestly stated he was confident he made the right decision, but unfortunately could have been mistaken.

The volatile brother heard their conversation and reacted with racist venom, claiming his brother was killed due to incompetence while severely critiquing Dr. Brooks's race.

The only way Dr. Brooks can prove his innocence is to have an autopsy performed on the body, but the autopsy can't be performed without the consent of the surviving brother.

Not only does he refuse to give his consent, he also calls up his thuglike friends, and gets them to plan an attack on the local black neighbourhood, the situation becoming more and more insane.

And it's all because a bright student boldly determined he would become a doctor, and put in the necessary years of hard work and study to eventually attain the role.

Racism's disastrous stubborn ignorance almost prevents his career from moving forward, as someone too blind to see anything but skin colour goes out of his way to ruin a life.

Equal opportunity for every race and any individual willing to heed the call, objective analysis isn't qualified by a doctor's ethnicity as emergency medical decisions are made.

Even after Dr. Brooks proves his innocence Mr. Biddle refuses to believe, and with the resurgence of racism in the public sphere, the mass irresponsibility is most distressing. 

No Way Out highlights the pitfalls of racism with shocking language and blunt compression, I was surprised to see this film was made in 1950, I didn't think they made such candid movies back then (when dealing with sensitive issues).

Even though I think they're incredibly irresponsible I can support an individual's right to not be vaccinated, it's their body and even if they're being passionately foolish (remember how wonderful it was when they announced they'd found a vaccine! [with additional vaccines coming later!]) we live in a democracy not a totalitarian state.  

But if their protests start waving the confederate flag and they start preventing local businesses from operating, while irritating local residents, I simply cannot support them: I can't support freedom as it promotes slavery. 

Notting Hill

Relaxed and calm a modest income something to do throughout the day, friends and family puttering close by refined chillaxed communal orchestration.

An amazing guy so easygoing so generally tolerant of diverse personality, capable of providing well-reasoned advice or simply listening with enthused sympathy.

No partner to speak of unfortunately his passivity perhaps sounding alarms, elaborate dreaming jocose imagination unaccustomed to the practical life.

But Notting Hill isn't actively critical of well-meaning culture and sublime compassion, William Thacker (Hugh Grant) isn't hiding a body in his basement nor is he consumed by some monstrous fetish.

In fact he's a genuine nice guy inhabiting a world that doesn't find this frightening, such an odd state of mature affairs wherein which the lighthearted aren't considered maniacal. 

How it goes at times, however, look for the signs, be prepared to move on, and if time passes and the familiar patterns don't reemerge, you know you've found something solid, durable.

William is surprised one afternoon when a startling lass takes a shine to his bookshop, they find themselves out on what is known as a date, and even seem to be enjoying each other's company (Julia Roberts as Anna Scott).

But she's a film star, a rather famous one at that, who's managed to avoid the paparazzi in London, as they amicably mosey throughout Notting Hill congenially disposed to romantic endeavours. 

Nevertheless, after Mr. Thacker's less discreet flatmate (Rhys Ifans as Spike) discovers _______ happens to be spending the night, he has something to discuss at the pub and the press come hounding the very next morn.

Uncertain as to why they've appeared Anna instinctually senses ambitious wrongdoing.

She's also rather shocked and embarrassed. 

World's collide, what can he do?

It's a light thought provoking illustration of convivial paradigmatic in/compatibility, practical realities spoiling the fun while patiently building rapports unprecedented. 

So long since I've seen Julia Roberts laugh universally celebrating something quirky (prefer it to Streep or Hepburn).

I loved Hugh Grant's line, "this is a very strange reality to be faced with".

The classic Anglo/American synthesis. 

Such interrelations are underexplored.