And The Muppets takes us back to a more cheerful time during which humour didn't consist of making jokes about blood diamonds and friendship meant more than exchanging vitriolic insults ad infinitum. Within the spirit of the The Muppet Show is reincarnated and acclimatized to a 21st Century comedic aesthetic, and the two differing ethical approaches subtly duel before creating a productive popular counterpoint.
A musical synthesis.
The film starts out with an insufferable musical number that immediately challenged the ways in which I've been cynically indoctrinated by shows such as Family Guy over the years. "Is this movie going to be this incredibly cheesy?", thought I, as I appreciated the choreography and prepared for an internal struggle. But as it progresses and the distressed Muppets decide to get back together in order to perform once more and raise 10 million to save their dilapidated studio from a greedy oilperson (Chris Cooper as Tex Richman), their naïve hope and innocent determination took root deep down and energetically confronted years of psychological conditioning propagated by ruthless patriarchs (goodbye Berlusconi).
But writers Jason Segel and Nicholas Stoller, fully aware of their audience's manufactured predispositions, cut Kermit (Steve Whitmire) off when he begins to explain how different things were way back then, and have their characters kidnap Jack Black to host their comeback special, who sits tied to a chair throughout allegorically representing the psychological mechanizations of the 1990s and 2000s, his exchange with Fozzie (Eric Jacobson), priceless.
And to add to the seemingly hopeless situation environmentalists find themselves in these days, enough funds are not raised and the oilperson seems to have won and an attempt at transforming the filmic/televisual sphere seems to have failed.
But then that insufferable number from the film's opening act commences once more, only this time it isn't unbearable, it's entertaining and fun and cheerful and happy, and Tex Richman decides not to destroy the Muppet's studio, and everyone's getting along, and the Muppets are a hit, and they're singing, together, dancing and swinging, to the beat of their own communal drum, positive and revitalized.
Note the fortuitous relationship between this ending and the Keystone Pipeline Protests which caused the Obama Administration to delay making its decision. My gut's telling me that they delayed the decision hoping that when it comes time for reexamination, the protestors will not return and they'll be able to conduct their business as usual (the same strategy the powers that be used in Hamilton, Ontario, for decades, in order to construct the controversial Red Hill Valley Parkway). Hopefully a bit of The Muppets's spirit will remain in 2013, and the Keystone Pipeline agenda will once again unify environmentalists across North America.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Immortals
And the Titans were imprisoned deep within Mount Tartarus after losing a war against the Gods of Olympus. Humankind prospered in the aftermath until such a time as one rose up from lowly origins to seek the destruction of Ancient Greece (Reason) through recourse to military means. But in his blood lust, he made the critical error of murdering the mother of another of humble birth, thereby inspiring his wrath. With no other alternative but to eventually seek the other's annihilation, their armies mercilessly clash, sparing no one from their antagonistic fury.
And the Titans are unleashed once more.
But what does all this have to do with socio-politics and religion and is there a social democratic agenda sequestered deep within Immortals's narrative, eagerly seeking emancipation?
We know that both Theseus (Henry Cavill) and King Hyperion (Mickey Rourke) are roughly members of the proletariat and that the former is primarily concerned with protecting his family while the later seeks to conquer Reason. Theseus is counselled by Zeus (John Hurt, Luke Evans) in disguise to protect the weak and the infirm, while Hyperion lives by the code that might is right. The Titans are incarcerated deep within the earth but they were equals to the Gods prior to being shackled (an ideological battle was waged which stripped them of their material resources). Mineral wealth often lies deep within mountains. Mineral wealth (or petroleum wealth) can be used to attain prestigious cultural god-like positions. With the attainment of wealth and prestige a challenge can be made against the resident Gods (many of whom made their fortune the same way hundreds of years ago and due to the passage of time had their 'royalty' naturalized) in order to obtain political control. Two simplistic traditional ways of examining those within the proletariat who rise through the ranks to positions of power is to regard them as maniacal control freaks (Hyperion, Stalin) or altruistic equalizers (Theseus, Tommy Douglas). Theseus defeats Hyperion and therefore Immortals upholds the altruistic equalizer. But his victory is dependent upon the constant intervention of the Gods or the established concrete ruling elite. In the final moments, Theseus leaves the mortal world and travels to Olympus to live amongst them, leaving humankind behind. There are certainly places within the upper echelons for altruistic individuals, but a social democratic film would have its heroes remain within the mortal realm in order to achieve a material surplus from which his or her compatriots could level out the upper echelons themselves. But if Mount Olympus is thought of as being a legislative assembly as opposed to the halls of the ever rich, then Theseus's position within suggests that he could represent a defender of social democratic values, those espoused by Zeus (or Thomas Mulcair, Brian Topp and Bob Rae), the established order making room for new innovations in order to diversify and remodel its means of production, and be leading the charge against the fallen nouveau riche who were freed by Hyperion's savagery. But Mount Olympus doesn't strike me as being the best place in which to situate a social democratic political aesthetic, inasmuch as the politics of the oppressed are often not resolutely upheld by immortals. And much of the anger felt by Hyperion comes from the Gods turning blind eyes to humankind, or creating elitist structures with no practical outlets nurtured by a culture of snobbery that alienates the proletariat and results in them voting for conservatives (who use the practical outlets ignored by liberal snobs to subliminally manipulate them into preferring divisive racist imperialist alternatives [wherein they mistake subservience for freedom]). And it's Hyperion who wants to destroy them as a consequence, conservatively placing Hyperion in the guise of the social democratic activist, whose out to destroy the liberally motivated yet aloof elite (with the goal of converting the liberal elite to team conservative).
Thus, Immortals doesn't strike me as being pro-social democracy.
In regards to religion, Immortals uses the win scenario to elevate it. The film's situated in Ancient Greece and thereby overtly distances itself from 21st Century religious agendas while metaphorically supporting them, as every character comes to believe (by using Ancient Greece, the film's support for religion doesn't alienate its audience by bombarding them with religious images with which they are familiar which is a win strategy when it comes to eventually converting cynical unbelievers).
Better than Clash of the Titans but not as entertaining as Troy, Stephen Dorff's character (Stavros) steals the show that is perhaps best left for a Saturday evening rental.
And the Titans are unleashed once more.
But what does all this have to do with socio-politics and religion and is there a social democratic agenda sequestered deep within Immortals's narrative, eagerly seeking emancipation?
We know that both Theseus (Henry Cavill) and King Hyperion (Mickey Rourke) are roughly members of the proletariat and that the former is primarily concerned with protecting his family while the later seeks to conquer Reason. Theseus is counselled by Zeus (John Hurt, Luke Evans) in disguise to protect the weak and the infirm, while Hyperion lives by the code that might is right. The Titans are incarcerated deep within the earth but they were equals to the Gods prior to being shackled (an ideological battle was waged which stripped them of their material resources). Mineral wealth often lies deep within mountains. Mineral wealth (or petroleum wealth) can be used to attain prestigious cultural god-like positions. With the attainment of wealth and prestige a challenge can be made against the resident Gods (many of whom made their fortune the same way hundreds of years ago and due to the passage of time had their 'royalty' naturalized) in order to obtain political control. Two simplistic traditional ways of examining those within the proletariat who rise through the ranks to positions of power is to regard them as maniacal control freaks (Hyperion, Stalin) or altruistic equalizers (Theseus, Tommy Douglas). Theseus defeats Hyperion and therefore Immortals upholds the altruistic equalizer. But his victory is dependent upon the constant intervention of the Gods or the established concrete ruling elite. In the final moments, Theseus leaves the mortal world and travels to Olympus to live amongst them, leaving humankind behind. There are certainly places within the upper echelons for altruistic individuals, but a social democratic film would have its heroes remain within the mortal realm in order to achieve a material surplus from which his or her compatriots could level out the upper echelons themselves. But if Mount Olympus is thought of as being a legislative assembly as opposed to the halls of the ever rich, then Theseus's position within suggests that he could represent a defender of social democratic values, those espoused by Zeus (or Thomas Mulcair, Brian Topp and Bob Rae), the established order making room for new innovations in order to diversify and remodel its means of production, and be leading the charge against the fallen nouveau riche who were freed by Hyperion's savagery. But Mount Olympus doesn't strike me as being the best place in which to situate a social democratic political aesthetic, inasmuch as the politics of the oppressed are often not resolutely upheld by immortals. And much of the anger felt by Hyperion comes from the Gods turning blind eyes to humankind, or creating elitist structures with no practical outlets nurtured by a culture of snobbery that alienates the proletariat and results in them voting for conservatives (who use the practical outlets ignored by liberal snobs to subliminally manipulate them into preferring divisive racist imperialist alternatives [wherein they mistake subservience for freedom]). And it's Hyperion who wants to destroy them as a consequence, conservatively placing Hyperion in the guise of the social democratic activist, whose out to destroy the liberally motivated yet aloof elite (with the goal of converting the liberal elite to team conservative).
Thus, Immortals doesn't strike me as being pro-social democracy.
In regards to religion, Immortals uses the win scenario to elevate it. The film's situated in Ancient Greece and thereby overtly distances itself from 21st Century religious agendas while metaphorically supporting them, as every character comes to believe (by using Ancient Greece, the film's support for religion doesn't alienate its audience by bombarding them with religious images with which they are familiar which is a win strategy when it comes to eventually converting cynical unbelievers).
Better than Clash of the Titans but not as entertaining as Troy, Stephen Dorff's character (Stavros) steals the show that is perhaps best left for a Saturday evening rental.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Rubber
Quentin Dupieux intelligently and playfully pulls off a ridiculous off-beat puréed slice of incongruity with Rubber, a film which challenges you to keep watching even though its subject matter is incredibly discombobulated.
Question: can we improve upon the typical Hollywood horror-comedy by stripping it down to its bear essentials, presenting an inanimate villain, crafting a film within a film, and then virulently exterminating its audience?
Or to put it another way, is watching a tire that rolls around randomly blowing up things and people preferable to series such as Final Destination or I Know What You Did Last Summer (note that I did like Final Destination 2)?
Without providing any back story explaining why or how the tire gained consciousness and why it decided to start randomly destroying.
The answer is yes, it can be improved upon, and a back story is not required, if you don't care in the slightest what your audience thinks but still take the time to expertly craft an audacious non sequitur which appears as if it was haphazardly constructed.
Rather than simply destroying the minds of its audience with nauseating dialogue and unimaginative viaducts, Rubber simply destroys its audience half way through after they ravenously gorge on a roasted turkey.
Rather than trying to seem as if there's a point or introduce something saccharinely tragic, Rubber makes it quite clear that there is no reason structuring its dementia, and proceeds to unreel unabashedly.
But nothing can exist without placing itself within a multifaceted logical fulcrum, as each subject is free to express their interpretive difference in regards to the ways in which artistic objects are constructed (or sporting objects etc.), thanks to the freedom built into democratic societies made viable by the internet, and it's possible to gain constructive insights into complicated dynamics from bizarre examples of lucid frivolity, if you search for them (search for them within the new show Picnicface, especially the Lost Highway themed episode wherein the Mystery Man looks like John Waters).
Reason underlies Rubber's tracks although its content salutes insanity. But it's only insane from the point of view of the monotonous narrative that has been produced to shackle the many as the few exercise their free self-development (Terry Eagleton), and from this point of view, accentuating difference, it makes nothing but perfect sense, and a rational explanation is presented for its not so subtle ending.
Question: can we improve upon the typical Hollywood horror-comedy by stripping it down to its bear essentials, presenting an inanimate villain, crafting a film within a film, and then virulently exterminating its audience?
Or to put it another way, is watching a tire that rolls around randomly blowing up things and people preferable to series such as Final Destination or I Know What You Did Last Summer (note that I did like Final Destination 2)?
Without providing any back story explaining why or how the tire gained consciousness and why it decided to start randomly destroying.
The answer is yes, it can be improved upon, and a back story is not required, if you don't care in the slightest what your audience thinks but still take the time to expertly craft an audacious non sequitur which appears as if it was haphazardly constructed.
Rather than simply destroying the minds of its audience with nauseating dialogue and unimaginative viaducts, Rubber simply destroys its audience half way through after they ravenously gorge on a roasted turkey.
Rather than trying to seem as if there's a point or introduce something saccharinely tragic, Rubber makes it quite clear that there is no reason structuring its dementia, and proceeds to unreel unabashedly.
But nothing can exist without placing itself within a multifaceted logical fulcrum, as each subject is free to express their interpretive difference in regards to the ways in which artistic objects are constructed (or sporting objects etc.), thanks to the freedom built into democratic societies made viable by the internet, and it's possible to gain constructive insights into complicated dynamics from bizarre examples of lucid frivolity, if you search for them (search for them within the new show Picnicface, especially the Lost Highway themed episode wherein the Mystery Man looks like John Waters).
Reason underlies Rubber's tracks although its content salutes insanity. But it's only insane from the point of view of the monotonous narrative that has been produced to shackle the many as the few exercise their free self-development (Terry Eagleton), and from this point of view, accentuating difference, it makes nothing but perfect sense, and a rational explanation is presented for its not so subtle ending.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Conviction
A brother falsely incarcerated. A sister dedicated to setting him free. Unwavering belief synthesized with focused raw acute determination. An inspiring film modestly elevating the power of hope while proving that it's not just for the naïve or the foolhardy.
Tony Goldwyn's Conviction could have been much more sensational, attempting to sentimentally cater to our manufactured desires for explosions and vindictive polarized constructs. It could have melodramatically situated its plot within a broader context, focusing on life in prison, media dramatizations, or the challenges presented by trying to raise a family, work, and finish law school with hardly any financial or social resources. But it doesn't examine these dimensions, preferring to zero in on an unbreakable bond forged between brother and sister, investigating their relationship primarily in order to provide extended insights into the constructive potential of an enduring commitment.
Betty Anne Waters (Hilary Swank) isn't about boasting or vilifying or emoting, she prefers to achieve her goals objectively and doesn't let anything or anyone stand in her way, most of the time, even though the odds stacked against her seem insurmountable.
Kenny Waters (Sam Rockwell) isn't quite so level headed seeing how he's serving a life sentence for murder, but his sister's prudent, logical, affable recurring presence helps temper his suicidal tendencies.
Swank and Rockwell play their parts well and one of the only things missing from their interactions is an extended scene, one which probes the depths of their characters more thoroughly, without resorting to heartbreaking platitudes.
But such a scene perhaps would have been misplaced in Conviction, since it effectively works within the mainstream to instructively use a generic form to reach a wide audience for whom its message is much more positive than one latently conditioned by cynicism.
The structures preventing Kenny from being exonerated are formidable and entrenched. But they can still be challenged and remodelled.
One day at a time.
Tony Goldwyn's Conviction could have been much more sensational, attempting to sentimentally cater to our manufactured desires for explosions and vindictive polarized constructs. It could have melodramatically situated its plot within a broader context, focusing on life in prison, media dramatizations, or the challenges presented by trying to raise a family, work, and finish law school with hardly any financial or social resources. But it doesn't examine these dimensions, preferring to zero in on an unbreakable bond forged between brother and sister, investigating their relationship primarily in order to provide extended insights into the constructive potential of an enduring commitment.
Betty Anne Waters (Hilary Swank) isn't about boasting or vilifying or emoting, she prefers to achieve her goals objectively and doesn't let anything or anyone stand in her way, most of the time, even though the odds stacked against her seem insurmountable.
Kenny Waters (Sam Rockwell) isn't quite so level headed seeing how he's serving a life sentence for murder, but his sister's prudent, logical, affable recurring presence helps temper his suicidal tendencies.
Swank and Rockwell play their parts well and one of the only things missing from their interactions is an extended scene, one which probes the depths of their characters more thoroughly, without resorting to heartbreaking platitudes.
But such a scene perhaps would have been misplaced in Conviction, since it effectively works within the mainstream to instructively use a generic form to reach a wide audience for whom its message is much more positive than one latently conditioned by cynicism.
The structures preventing Kenny from being exonerated are formidable and entrenched. But they can still be challenged and remodelled.
One day at a time.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
A Very Harold & Kumar 3D Christmas
Good God. What the hell happened to Christmas?
It seems as if the traditional Christmas special has been warped and welded into a devious pot smoking lingerie modelling gangster frolicking schism, just in time to usher in the 2011 holiday season. A special crafted for those who have grown weary of the predictable patterns worked into the yearly festive Frostyesque line-up and are hungrily seeking a palpable harbinger of mainstream subversion, of decadent diversions, of subterranean incursions.
Fully endorsed by Santa.
A Very Harold & Kumar 3D Christmas provides such content and insouciantly precipitates a brazen comical maelstrom into which the politically correct is unwittingly thrust.
As Harold (John Cho) and Kumar (Hal Penn) frantically search for a new Christmas tree.
Trying to make sense of the ways in which this film confronts stereotyping is challenging. It's as if representatives of two minority groups are saying that due to the institutional barriers firmly established by the Anglo-Saxon majority it's impossible for us to successfully integrate into the mainstream, but we'll still give it a shot, and playfully present you with exactly what you would expect, based upon your own preconceptions, while opening up a resultant critical space in your public sphere, and affectively plunging within full throttle.
You see, the mainstream often prevents minorities from successfully integrating into its culture. It does so in order to horde the prominent signs of achievement and associated luxuries for itself. As minorities still seek to earn a living and take care of their families, they must find a way to do so in the underground, using the only resources they have available to their general advantage (selling narcotics etc.). If racist institutional representatives and policies promote these stereotypes and they are upheld by their ethnic non-professional counterparts, and progressive legislation such as affirmative action is suppressed, you directly stifle an enormous degree of potential, and keep generations of prominent public role models from ever being able to productively apply themselves.
Therefore the underground becomes their outlet and they carve out an existence within while demonstrating that some of the 'demonized' resources they control (marijuana) aren't really that bad and would legitimize their 'unlawful' pursuits if legalized.
There's some of this in A Very Harold & Kumar 3D Christmas and they definitely take things to new levels as they nurture a tormented frustrated blockaded aesthetic while working within a form that has been culturally stabilized.
All the while applying new meanings to concepts like marriage, family, and friendship.
And smoking that reefer.
It seems as if the traditional Christmas special has been warped and welded into a devious pot smoking lingerie modelling gangster frolicking schism, just in time to usher in the 2011 holiday season. A special crafted for those who have grown weary of the predictable patterns worked into the yearly festive Frostyesque line-up and are hungrily seeking a palpable harbinger of mainstream subversion, of decadent diversions, of subterranean incursions.
Fully endorsed by Santa.
A Very Harold & Kumar 3D Christmas provides such content and insouciantly precipitates a brazen comical maelstrom into which the politically correct is unwittingly thrust.
As Harold (John Cho) and Kumar (Hal Penn) frantically search for a new Christmas tree.
Trying to make sense of the ways in which this film confronts stereotyping is challenging. It's as if representatives of two minority groups are saying that due to the institutional barriers firmly established by the Anglo-Saxon majority it's impossible for us to successfully integrate into the mainstream, but we'll still give it a shot, and playfully present you with exactly what you would expect, based upon your own preconceptions, while opening up a resultant critical space in your public sphere, and affectively plunging within full throttle.
You see, the mainstream often prevents minorities from successfully integrating into its culture. It does so in order to horde the prominent signs of achievement and associated luxuries for itself. As minorities still seek to earn a living and take care of their families, they must find a way to do so in the underground, using the only resources they have available to their general advantage (selling narcotics etc.). If racist institutional representatives and policies promote these stereotypes and they are upheld by their ethnic non-professional counterparts, and progressive legislation such as affirmative action is suppressed, you directly stifle an enormous degree of potential, and keep generations of prominent public role models from ever being able to productively apply themselves.
Therefore the underground becomes their outlet and they carve out an existence within while demonstrating that some of the 'demonized' resources they control (marijuana) aren't really that bad and would legitimize their 'unlawful' pursuits if legalized.
There's some of this in A Very Harold & Kumar 3D Christmas and they definitely take things to new levels as they nurture a tormented frustrated blockaded aesthetic while working within a form that has been culturally stabilized.
All the while applying new meanings to concepts like marriage, family, and friendship.
And smoking that reefer.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Tower Heist
Was incredibly disappointed by Brett Ratner's Tower Heist. Generic films don't have to be terrible. If their writers try to at least create four or five unexpected witty provocative scenes wherein something distracting takes place they can be salvaged. But they have to hold our attention before they can affectively destream it. Tower Heist presents one boring mundane predictable scene after another, as if they were trying to mimic the aesthetic built into a swiffer wet jet ad in order to peddle jokes that make television's Whitney seem hilarious by comparison. It was like the inspiration behind this script was vacuuming or cleaning behind the fridge. Unmitigated stubborn concrete tedium disseminated by performances who are only noteworthy because they managed to successfully convince me that they were taking their work seriously, regardless of the fact that they must of wretched upon first reading over the material. There's one moment where Matthew Broderick at least looks as if he's aware that he's starring in an cup into which you spit but it's subtle enough for him to still be able to convince the powers that be that he's a team player.
I like films wherein rich assholes who steal from struggling workers are punished and I like that this happens in Tower Heist, but the execution is uniformly lacking in skill, insight and perspicacity, and the plot, racist in structure.
Don't be sucked in by the cast or the ads. Tower Heist isn't worth it and reminds me why I haven't wanted to see an Eddie Murphy film since Bowfinger.
I like films wherein rich assholes who steal from struggling workers are punished and I like that this happens in Tower Heist, but the execution is uniformly lacking in skill, insight and perspicacity, and the plot, racist in structure.
Don't be sucked in by the cast or the ads. Tower Heist isn't worth it and reminds me why I haven't wanted to see an Eddie Murphy film since Bowfinger.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
SUPER
Some superheroes have vast financial and intellectual resources at their disposal which they use to champion justice. Others develop superhuman strength after having directly embraced science's unpredictable diversity. Still others are born with exceptional gifts for which they are ridiculed and ostracized by their fellow citizens. And others are simply nurtured by an alien land whose environment provides them with a permanent degree of invincibility.
But my favourite superheroes are regular average joes who grow tired of corruption's prosperity and take to the streets in a homemade outfit to distribute discipline and punishment with bluntly accurate precision.
Superheroes like SUPER's Crimson Bolt (Rainn Wilson) and his enthusiastic sidekick, Bolty (Ellen Page).
Crimson Bolt has experienced two perfect events throughout his life which have helped him to overcome an existence otherwise filled with depression and humiliation.
The day on which he helped a police officer fight crime, and that on which he married love interest and ex-drug addict Sarah (Liv Tyler).
But as SUPER begins we discover that Sarah has fallen prey to a local drug-dealing thug (played by Kevin Bacon) who encourages her latent addictions in order to steal her away from her loving and devoted trustworthy husband.
After complimenting his eggs.
That same husband decides it's time to fight back and save Sarah once more, and guided by the forces of instinct, love, and over-the-top Christian superhero The Holy Avenger (Nathan Fillion), he makes a red suit, picks up a wrench, and tells crime to shut-up as he bashes its representatives in the head with said wrench while wearing his red suit.
And playing by the unwritten rules.
As Serial Mom coalesces with Q-The Winged Serpent and becomes what Mystery Men should have been, SUPER psychotically delivers a sensationally laid back hard-boiled piece of cinematic mayhem, swathed in a deadpan frank ready-to-wear elasticity.
Not crafted for the feint of heart or those searching for technological hyperactivity, its comedic intuition and adventurous spirit still distill a universal sense of vigilante dexterity, as one short order cook rediscovers what it means to despair.
But my favourite superheroes are regular average joes who grow tired of corruption's prosperity and take to the streets in a homemade outfit to distribute discipline and punishment with bluntly accurate precision.
Superheroes like SUPER's Crimson Bolt (Rainn Wilson) and his enthusiastic sidekick, Bolty (Ellen Page).
Crimson Bolt has experienced two perfect events throughout his life which have helped him to overcome an existence otherwise filled with depression and humiliation.
The day on which he helped a police officer fight crime, and that on which he married love interest and ex-drug addict Sarah (Liv Tyler).
But as SUPER begins we discover that Sarah has fallen prey to a local drug-dealing thug (played by Kevin Bacon) who encourages her latent addictions in order to steal her away from her loving and devoted trustworthy husband.
After complimenting his eggs.
That same husband decides it's time to fight back and save Sarah once more, and guided by the forces of instinct, love, and over-the-top Christian superhero The Holy Avenger (Nathan Fillion), he makes a red suit, picks up a wrench, and tells crime to shut-up as he bashes its representatives in the head with said wrench while wearing his red suit.
And playing by the unwritten rules.
As Serial Mom coalesces with Q-The Winged Serpent and becomes what Mystery Men should have been, SUPER psychotically delivers a sensationally laid back hard-boiled piece of cinematic mayhem, swathed in a deadpan frank ready-to-wear elasticity.
Not crafted for the feint of heart or those searching for technological hyperactivity, its comedic intuition and adventurous spirit still distill a universal sense of vigilante dexterity, as one short order cook rediscovers what it means to despair.
The Exterminating Angel
As times change and different political aesthetics present themselves, a dinner party is held for Mexican elites in Luis Buñuel's The Exterminating Angel. Everyone gathers for a delightful evening accompanied by delicious food items and accomplished musical entertainments.
There's just one problem.
For some indeterminate reason, the majority of workers feel compelled to leave before dinner is served and after dinner none of the guests is capable of leaving the room within which the festivities have expired. Confined together with nothing but their social relations to sustain themselves as the limited resources at their disposal are slowly consumed/utilized, those theoretically possessing a heightened sense of proper and refined conduct descend into madness, as the pet bear freely wanders to and fro.
At his or her leisure.
The external world becomes curious regarding the status of the imprisoned professionals but also find themselves unable to penetrate the invisible, intangible barrier.
As if a feudal set of social divisions has been challenged by a mischievous deity who demands that the well-to-do intimately embrace the circumstances which those who uphold their lavish caprice negotiate daily.
Unable to acknowledge a system wherein opportunity is available to all, or the fact that their luminescence is dependent upon semantic classifications which have designated the activities of working others as undesirable, time exasperatingly passes, and knowledge desperately self-destructs.
There's just one problem.
For some indeterminate reason, the majority of workers feel compelled to leave before dinner is served and after dinner none of the guests is capable of leaving the room within which the festivities have expired. Confined together with nothing but their social relations to sustain themselves as the limited resources at their disposal are slowly consumed/utilized, those theoretically possessing a heightened sense of proper and refined conduct descend into madness, as the pet bear freely wanders to and fro.
At his or her leisure.
The external world becomes curious regarding the status of the imprisoned professionals but also find themselves unable to penetrate the invisible, intangible barrier.
As if a feudal set of social divisions has been challenged by a mischievous deity who demands that the well-to-do intimately embrace the circumstances which those who uphold their lavish caprice negotiate daily.
Unable to acknowledge a system wherein opportunity is available to all, or the fact that their luminescence is dependent upon semantic classifications which have designated the activities of working others as undesirable, time exasperatingly passes, and knowledge desperately self-destructs.
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