Stardust

A nondescript wall divides two lands both of which have little knowledge of the other, but on occasion people pass through to curiously see what rests on the other side.

One path resembles an old school version of what's often referred to as material reality, wherein which science painstakingly unravels concealed secrets through vigorous study.

The other's indeed much more magical where stars and witches contemporaneously reside, different life forms taking on supernatural proportions as fervid fantasy frenetically sculpts.

An adventurous temperate lad crosses the border one fateful evening, and strikes up an amorous association before swiftly returning home.

Months later, a newborn babe suddenly appears on his modest doorstep, with a note attached and explicit instructions that it's not to be opened till he comes of age.

The babe is reared by romantic blueprints cohesively intuited and adoringly suckled, and even though he lacks corporeal agency, his enriched spirit jocosely thrives.

In the land of fantasy, a brilliant star cavernously crash lands rather unexpectedly, after a none too heartwarming decree attunes unwitting rivals to stellar constellation.

But covetous witches soon learn of its misfortune and one sets out to acquire its light, for if she's able to eat her heart her youthful endeavours will then regenerate.

The former babe learns of his fantastic origins and is transported to the star to fulfill a promise.

Unaccustomed to the land of magic.

His enchanted spirit guides him.

Romantically adorned and everlastingly arrayed, Matthew Vaughn's Stardust rambunctiously radiates, as haphazard improvised declamation serendipitously seeks out love.

A shame to see the two worlds cut off from constructive dialogues akin to outstanding, pejorative prejudice presumed by both sides leading to mutually dissonant contention.

Should the elevated art of persuasion ardently lay down its feverish flourishes, to articulate waylaid concrete indubitably practical schemes and strategies?

Should the blunt and direct fatalistic alarmed wisecracking determinate brigade, allow for scandalous spiritual syndications regenerative uplifting abstract accords?

Do Marvel films in fact represent working syntheses of the aforementioned?

Perhaps at times they do.

As does the crafty Stardust.

Welcome to Me

Individualized destabilizing pent-up regressive rage, vanity spiked with lavish tear-jerks, revenge, pretence, Sardaukar, like white water rafting while having an enema, serendipitously skydiving into reckless raw sewage, a tropical vacation during a hurricane, horseback riding through an excrement infused mine field, or effervescent diarrhea, stuck in the washroom with the runs for 90 minutes with a good book after having drank a glass of Johnnie Walker Red, laughing your ass off while occasionally glancing at what's written on the walls, it's well done, solid dark comedy, poignant pointless improvised puttering, septic serenity, caw, caw, caw.

86 million squandered insanity.

There's a raw sense of guiltless innocence that destructively vibrates like a ludic chaotic cello, devoid of any constructive purpose, strict subjectivism, too independently inclined.

Like Immortan Joe, Alice (Kristen Wiig) rules, although her domain isn't post-apocalyptic, yet remains symptomatic of what leads to Fury Road.

Welcome to Me isn't hastily thrown together, they took their time to apply added depth, simultaneously enthusiastic and ghastly, it smoothly maintains its aesthetic the whole way through.

Reminiscent of World's Greatest Dad.

Possibly funded by the pharmaceutical lobby.

Decadence.

Mega Maid.  

Mirror Mirror

Possessing a self-aware mischievous aloofly focused reflexivity which takes interpretive postures narratively to heart, Tarsem Singh's Mirror Mirror playfully reimagines Snow White and infuses it with lighthearted billowing charm. The Queen (Julia Roberts) is certainly wicked, the princess (Lily Collins), beautiful. Prince Alcott (Armie Hammer) bumbles along unwittingly thrust between the two and the seven dwarves provide voyeuristic commentary and transformative benignity which constructively pluralizes the action by creating an audience within an audience.

It's totally web 2.0.

Economic matters haunt the film as the Queen brutally taxes her subjects to pay for her ostentatious whims. The dwarves have taken to robbing those who pass through their section of the forest due to the fact that they were expelled from the village because the Queen found them ugly. The villagers didn't stand up for the dwarves which has lead to resentment. When they rob a royal coach carrying funds obtained through taxation they therefore have no desire to return them. But Snow White sees things differently and returns the levies and gives the dwarves the credit.

Thus we have a situation where a capricious exception was made which divided the struggling populace. Feeling helpless and seeing no way of securing a lasting productive solution on their own, this exception lapsed into criminal activity. Then, after taking into their care a royal outcast, a solution presents itself necessitated by the underhanded activities they were forced to engage in.

Unfortunately, this solution was brokered by the outcasted royal rather than the people themselves. Had they remained united, perhaps they could have taken steps to frustrate the villainous Queen and would not have had to rely upon accidental august interventions.