Much lighter than Chan-wook Park's demented bitter construct, Spike Lee's Oldboy is still illicit enough to provoke degenerative thoughts of decay, bathed in a regenerative yet psychotic ludic lotion, like a transgressive pantomime, cauterizing ruin.
Suppose this particular narrative inevitably comes across as dark.
Even if you throw in Ron Burgundy and his chipper news team.
The vindictive carousing of an insatiable werehyena.
A leather apron.
And a codified shield.
The game plan's the same.
Asshole. Locked in a room for more than a decade for no apparent reason. Suddenly released. Abounding tension. A set of clues. The diagnostic hammer.
Seismic atrophy.
The tension abounds but it lacks the all-encompassing sense of discombobulated dread cultivated by Park.
But I did prefer the new ending.
So dismal it brought a tear to me eye.
Why do people excel at imploding such vivid monstrous moral vivisections?
Vision. Goal. Cyanide.
The discipline of the Real.
Monday, December 30, 2013
Saturday, December 28, 2013
Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues
Ron Burgundy lead an extraordinary extracurricular promotional campaign leading up to the release of Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues, thereby suggesting that it must be an exceptional film, surpassing its comedic predecessor in varying degrees of hilarity, while stretching the boundaries of both ridiculousness and applicability, a voluminous viscosity, asinine yet chaste.
I'm used to seeing American comedies that are around 90 minutes in length but Anchorman 2 comes in at 119 according to its IMDB surrogate.
An out of the ordinary promotional campaign.
An extra 29 minutes.
Released a week before Christmas.
And Anchorman 2 delivers.
Ron Burgundy proves himself to be a sturdy bumbling honest easily upset independent intellectually discordant emotionally secure visceral champion for the everyperson, continuously and undauntedly moving forward, apart from when he decides to hang himself after a randy exhibition at Seaworld (see Blackfish).
He has his own polite style and definition of appropriateness which lead to conflicts when expressing himself within unknown vectors, yet he confidently bounces back and keeps focusing on the positive, action, reaction, proactivation, thereby inspiring his loyal news team.
Some team members function as reps for some somewhat revolting tendencies towards violence, but these tendencies are made to appear ludicrous, kind of, as Burgundy consistently outwits them.
The bats were a brilliant idea. The scorpions, the bowling balls, the bra covered in cats, the details, it's like every line and every scene were eruditely vetted by comedic veterans dedicated to making the best American comedy in years, many of the scenes appearing as if they were haphazardly thrown together, but you don't achieve this level of rowdy unconcerned reckless jocularity without patiently reviewing and editing every aspect of the production, while keeping in mind the havoc of the finished masterpiece simultaneously.
Film editing by Melissa Bretherton and Brent White.
Should I mention the battle?
The greatest most unexpected battle I've ever seen in an American film, with the Minotaur and a werehyena, that's right, a werehyena, plus a Canadian news team, introducing a fantastic sporty religious scientific historical mélange of postmodern acrobatic intensity, Alterius, Maiden of the Clouds (Kirsten Dunst) commencing the romp with her exclamatory horn, Vince Vaughn (Wes Mantooth), arriving at a pivotal, game changing moment.
Or Dolby? His song?
The figure skating?
The parenting?
Never really liked car chases but I do love animal stories.
Even better than Machete Kills.
Written by Will Ferrell and Adam McKay.
I'm used to seeing American comedies that are around 90 minutes in length but Anchorman 2 comes in at 119 according to its IMDB surrogate.
An out of the ordinary promotional campaign.
An extra 29 minutes.
Released a week before Christmas.
And Anchorman 2 delivers.
Ron Burgundy proves himself to be a sturdy bumbling honest easily upset independent intellectually discordant emotionally secure visceral champion for the everyperson, continuously and undauntedly moving forward, apart from when he decides to hang himself after a randy exhibition at Seaworld (see Blackfish).
He has his own polite style and definition of appropriateness which lead to conflicts when expressing himself within unknown vectors, yet he confidently bounces back and keeps focusing on the positive, action, reaction, proactivation, thereby inspiring his loyal news team.
Some team members function as reps for some somewhat revolting tendencies towards violence, but these tendencies are made to appear ludicrous, kind of, as Burgundy consistently outwits them.
The bats were a brilliant idea. The scorpions, the bowling balls, the bra covered in cats, the details, it's like every line and every scene were eruditely vetted by comedic veterans dedicated to making the best American comedy in years, many of the scenes appearing as if they were haphazardly thrown together, but you don't achieve this level of rowdy unconcerned reckless jocularity without patiently reviewing and editing every aspect of the production, while keeping in mind the havoc of the finished masterpiece simultaneously.
Film editing by Melissa Bretherton and Brent White.
Should I mention the battle?
The greatest most unexpected battle I've ever seen in an American film, with the Minotaur and a werehyena, that's right, a werehyena, plus a Canadian news team, introducing a fantastic sporty religious scientific historical mélange of postmodern acrobatic intensity, Alterius, Maiden of the Clouds (Kirsten Dunst) commencing the romp with her exclamatory horn, Vince Vaughn (Wes Mantooth), arriving at a pivotal, game changing moment.
Or Dolby? His song?
The figure skating?
The parenting?
Never really liked car chases but I do love animal stories.
Even better than Machete Kills.
Written by Will Ferrell and Adam McKay.
Friday, December 27, 2013
12 Years a Slave
Steve McQueen's 12 Years a Slave is an outstanding film, cautiously yet confidently condensing over a decade's worth of lesions into a cruel, wicked, sensitive, combative humanitarian analysis of slavery's perverse apocalyptic logic, without simply establishing stock polar oppositions but still proceeding unambiguously enough for good to be clearly distinguished from evil, this willowing contrast patiently woven by a perceptive painstaking piecemeal punctuality whose periods and com(m)as aren't definitely placed, but rather gradually appear and fade as the years pass, flowing into one another while delineating crescents, conscious of the a/temporal confines of progressive thoughts shortsightedly dominated by racist hierarchical sludge, wherein Christian principles lie in ruin yet are ignorantly and emphatically pontificated nonetheless, this oppressive static systematic abuse inevitably engendering madness, this sustained a/temporal madness captured again and again by the unforgiving sadistic capricious misery inflicted on the suffering, McQueen's morose humble vicious living characters defining slavery's hopeless absolute perfidy, and the monstrous affects of its cultural applications.
12 Years a Slave unreels like a biographical film, but is anything but a simple chronological serialization of events.
Each sequence rather develops an affect of its own, united by the general tragedy, but separate animate pieces still, as if McQueen took the extra time and care to consider each component's vital individuality while crafting it, in order to formally elevate freedom's fluctuating fervours, a voice of protest unconsciously applied, for characters facing the whip for minor transgressions.
Patsey (Lupita Nyong'o) has a small role but she stands out, having delivered the best supporting performance I've seen this year.
She doesn't appear often but when she does she affectively commands every desperate beaten nanosecond, as if, for a brief moment, the entire film solely concerns her, and will only make an impact if she performs second to none.
She also diversifies Solomon Northup's (Chiwetel Ejiofor) character by making a reasonable request which the memory of his former freedoms and hopes to one day regain them disables him from granting.
Thereby further intensifying the madness.
Acting as if it's nothing out of the ordinary.
12 Years a Slave unreels like a biographical film, but is anything but a simple chronological serialization of events.
Each sequence rather develops an affect of its own, united by the general tragedy, but separate animate pieces still, as if McQueen took the extra time and care to consider each component's vital individuality while crafting it, in order to formally elevate freedom's fluctuating fervours, a voice of protest unconsciously applied, for characters facing the whip for minor transgressions.
Patsey (Lupita Nyong'o) has a small role but she stands out, having delivered the best supporting performance I've seen this year.
She doesn't appear often but when she does she affectively commands every desperate beaten nanosecond, as if, for a brief moment, the entire film solely concerns her, and will only make an impact if she performs second to none.
She also diversifies Solomon Northup's (Chiwetel Ejiofor) character by making a reasonable request which the memory of his former freedoms and hopes to one day regain them disables him from granting.
Thereby further intensifying the madness.
Acting as if it's nothing out of the ordinary.
Thursday, December 19, 2013
The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug
The quest to reclaim the treasure stolen then hoarded by the accursed dragon Smaug (Benedict Cumberbatch) continues, one hobbit and thirteen dwarves audaciously adventuring away.
Bilbo's (Martin Freeman) steady unerring quick-witted agility saves them from many interminable ends.
Humanistic politics and economics enter the fray as they meddle in Lake-Town (Esgaroth), the pragmatic and the opportunistic squaring off in a heated debate concerning the potential fallout from pent-up dragon wrath.
Parochial wood-elve rulers are critiqued for occupying their thoughts too exclusively with the safety of their own domain, even though the forces of evil threaten neighbouring lands as well.
One of his subjects, the stunning Tauriel (Evangeline Lilly), with long flowing red hair, breaks with tradition, and seeks the affections of Jacob rather than Edward, thereby securing a sacred trust, in pristine, alluvial pastures.
A new instalment in The Hobbit/Lord of the Rings narrative could focus primarily on her relationship with Kili (Aidan Turner), as the two are shunned by their respective cultures, eventually finding refuge with the skin-changing Beorn (Mikael Persbrandt).
(He changes into a bear).
Bilbo, in possession of the ring of power, could stop by to spy on them from time to time.
The Desolation of Smaug is a fast-paced thoughtful energetic sequel.
Loved how Thorin (Richard Armitage) dematerialized the imposing gold statue in his attempt to defeat Smaug, thereby symbolizing his own surmounting of the Scrooge-like pretensions akin to the acquisition of limitless wealth.
Kind of cheesy in the final moments.
Nice cliffhangers nevertheless.
Bilbo's (Martin Freeman) steady unerring quick-witted agility saves them from many interminable ends.
Humanistic politics and economics enter the fray as they meddle in Lake-Town (Esgaroth), the pragmatic and the opportunistic squaring off in a heated debate concerning the potential fallout from pent-up dragon wrath.
Parochial wood-elve rulers are critiqued for occupying their thoughts too exclusively with the safety of their own domain, even though the forces of evil threaten neighbouring lands as well.
One of his subjects, the stunning Tauriel (Evangeline Lilly), with long flowing red hair, breaks with tradition, and seeks the affections of Jacob rather than Edward, thereby securing a sacred trust, in pristine, alluvial pastures.
A new instalment in The Hobbit/Lord of the Rings narrative could focus primarily on her relationship with Kili (Aidan Turner), as the two are shunned by their respective cultures, eventually finding refuge with the skin-changing Beorn (Mikael Persbrandt).
(He changes into a bear).
Bilbo, in possession of the ring of power, could stop by to spy on them from time to time.
The Desolation of Smaug is a fast-paced thoughtful energetic sequel.
Loved how Thorin (Richard Armitage) dematerialized the imposing gold statue in his attempt to defeat Smaug, thereby symbolizing his own surmounting of the Scrooge-like pretensions akin to the acquisition of limitless wealth.
Kind of cheesy in the final moments.
Nice cliffhangers nevertheless.
Saturday, December 14, 2013
Out of the Furnace
Direct multilayered sociocultural oppositions contend, contrast, and coalesce as unpredicted vilified variables resuscitate/implement ancient/contemporary retributive, abysmal, and vindictive plaques, steady as she goes, reap the whirlwind, orderly disciplined straight and narrow paths, wild wanton adventurous tracts, unambiguous bucolic depth, heartbreaking rules, honourable clefts, Scott Cooper's Out of the Furnace, reasonably welding an ethical framework for subverting the law, according to a specific social set of incendiary standards.
The key to my interpretation comes from the fact that Russell Baze (Christian Bale) may lose his job at the mill, the very same mill where his father worked for his entire life, due to management's decision to move operations to China.
The film's villain, Harlan DeGroat (Woody Harrelson), has lived off-the-grid selling narcotics in the hills throughout his life, as his father presumably did before him.
DeGroat's survival suggests that an income can be earned out of the furnace, characterized by an alternative set of non-traditional denominators.
Should the mill close and no alternative well-paying job not requiring an education present itself, Baze will still have to earn an income.
Taxes from such well-paying jobs can be used to create sustainable public schools, hospitals, and transit systems.
If well-paid jobs not requiring an education continue to disappear and aren't replaced, and prices don't suddenly decrease significantly, the tax base required to support public schools, hospitals, and transit systems will decrease significantly as well, thereby increasing public deficits.
Food, shelter, and automobiles will still be sought after, however, and DeGroat's character demonstrates that they can indeed be gathered.
Now, Baze outwits DeGroat in the end, and likely doesn't go to prison, thereby suggesting that if North American workers who find themselves regrettably jobless must embrace underground economics to continue to provide for their families, then they can adopt the strategies but not the methods generationally applied for centuries by DeGroat's contemporaries and descendants, potentially replacing their narcotic provisions with more wholesome contraband goods and services, divergent ecotours catered by moonshine for instance, using portions of their profits to fund schools, hospitals and transit systems, as respectable industrialists (the good bourgeoisie) find ways to once again supply strictly legal employment, at home as opposed to somewhere in Asia.
From one Christmas to the next.
Incisive film forged with coruscating interpretative flames.
Disposable incomes that won't result in jail-time build thriving communities.
It's an old idea, I know.
But it still steeps an effervescent collective brew.
The key to my interpretation comes from the fact that Russell Baze (Christian Bale) may lose his job at the mill, the very same mill where his father worked for his entire life, due to management's decision to move operations to China.
The film's villain, Harlan DeGroat (Woody Harrelson), has lived off-the-grid selling narcotics in the hills throughout his life, as his father presumably did before him.
DeGroat's survival suggests that an income can be earned out of the furnace, characterized by an alternative set of non-traditional denominators.
Should the mill close and no alternative well-paying job not requiring an education present itself, Baze will still have to earn an income.
Taxes from such well-paying jobs can be used to create sustainable public schools, hospitals, and transit systems.
If well-paid jobs not requiring an education continue to disappear and aren't replaced, and prices don't suddenly decrease significantly, the tax base required to support public schools, hospitals, and transit systems will decrease significantly as well, thereby increasing public deficits.
Food, shelter, and automobiles will still be sought after, however, and DeGroat's character demonstrates that they can indeed be gathered.
Now, Baze outwits DeGroat in the end, and likely doesn't go to prison, thereby suggesting that if North American workers who find themselves regrettably jobless must embrace underground economics to continue to provide for their families, then they can adopt the strategies but not the methods generationally applied for centuries by DeGroat's contemporaries and descendants, potentially replacing their narcotic provisions with more wholesome contraband goods and services, divergent ecotours catered by moonshine for instance, using portions of their profits to fund schools, hospitals and transit systems, as respectable industrialists (the good bourgeoisie) find ways to once again supply strictly legal employment, at home as opposed to somewhere in Asia.
From one Christmas to the next.
Incisive film forged with coruscating interpretative flames.
Disposable incomes that won't result in jail-time build thriving communities.
It's an old idea, I know.
But it still steeps an effervescent collective brew.
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Violette
The drive for publication, honest controversial fearless prose, risks taken, contacts established, unerring syntactic strides, desires unfulfilled, sacrifices, tormenting, longitudinal allusive reins, interactive bucolic strains, prohibited friendships lamented, unsettled confrontational muse, pluralizing her stricken sentence, substantive, and disobeyed.
Didn't think Simone de Beauvoir (Sandrine Kiberlain) would like Proust.
Perhaps she did momentarily.
Making the short-film in the middle broke up the traditional chronological categorizing well, hilariously lightening while intensifying the sombre desperate elegance.
Tough life decisions.
Rewarded.
The countryside provides a nourishing wellspring of seductive solitude whose tranquil rhythms encourage profuse flourishes.
Difficulties associated with maintaining prolonged professional literary acquaintances are amorously and quasi-hierarchically socialized.
She just does what comes naturally, boldly sharing her relevant thoughts which create intellectually diverse yet accessible cultural markets for millions who were otherwise forced to unconsciously contemplate the patriarchal.
Violette Leduc (Emmanuelle Devos).
Groundbreaker.
Innovator.
Writer.
Didn't think Simone de Beauvoir (Sandrine Kiberlain) would like Proust.
Perhaps she did momentarily.
Making the short-film in the middle broke up the traditional chronological categorizing well, hilariously lightening while intensifying the sombre desperate elegance.
Tough life decisions.
Rewarded.
The countryside provides a nourishing wellspring of seductive solitude whose tranquil rhythms encourage profuse flourishes.
Difficulties associated with maintaining prolonged professional literary acquaintances are amorously and quasi-hierarchically socialized.
She just does what comes naturally, boldly sharing her relevant thoughts which create intellectually diverse yet accessible cultural markets for millions who were otherwise forced to unconsciously contemplate the patriarchal.
Violette Leduc (Emmanuelle Devos).
Groundbreaker.
Innovator.
Writer.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Philomena
An out-of-work atheistic professional journalist teams up with a devout confident assertive mother to write his first human interest story in Stephen Frears's Philomena.
The two work well together.
I wouldn't be able not to say that (lol) because Steve Coogan and Jeff Pope's script has created two wonderful characters, one with elite qualifications, the other comfortable within the kitschy continuum, the kitschy elite and elitist kitsch notwithstanding, both successes in their respective domains insofar as they've groomed themselves well over the years, brought them together to conduct investigative research, and given them both enough humanity to be able to work as an effective team, both partners listening to one another and making related adjustments throughout which demonstrate facets of humble active listening, snide though it may occasionally be, their power relations not being strictly governed by a master/slave dichotomy, but rather a constructive allied argumentative breach, which playfully and dismissively gives and takes on both sides.
Martin Sixsmith's (Steve Coogan) intellectual capacities are higher than Philomena's (Judi Dench) and he has trouble refraining from expressing this fact, especially before 9 am (why do you have to pretend to be in a good mood before 11 am?), which is to be expected, but they're also high enough to recognize their own particular shortcomings, their exclusive ornate prejudices, which helps Martin learn to accept Philomena's difference, her loves, her passions.
Philomena doesn't shy away from defending her values and even though she's likely never studied advanced rhetoric nor frequently schmoozed in realms where it's condescendingly applied, she holds her own when Sixsmith criticizes her beliefs, breaking through his sound observations (with which I tend to agree) with cold hard forgiving faith.
How she could continue to believe after what certain religious authorities put her through is beyond me but she does and justifies her position coherently enough.
The metaphorical extract (the breach) distilled from their colourful exchanges is a fluid effervescent bourgeoisie, competent mediator of the clashes, comprehensive, cogent, chill.
First time I've briefly forgotten it was Judi Dench acting for awhile, her divergent performance creatively testifying to her dynamic multidimensional strengths.
Not that I've seen most of the films she's been in.
The two work well together.
I wouldn't be able not to say that (lol) because Steve Coogan and Jeff Pope's script has created two wonderful characters, one with elite qualifications, the other comfortable within the kitschy continuum, the kitschy elite and elitist kitsch notwithstanding, both successes in their respective domains insofar as they've groomed themselves well over the years, brought them together to conduct investigative research, and given them both enough humanity to be able to work as an effective team, both partners listening to one another and making related adjustments throughout which demonstrate facets of humble active listening, snide though it may occasionally be, their power relations not being strictly governed by a master/slave dichotomy, but rather a constructive allied argumentative breach, which playfully and dismissively gives and takes on both sides.
Martin Sixsmith's (Steve Coogan) intellectual capacities are higher than Philomena's (Judi Dench) and he has trouble refraining from expressing this fact, especially before 9 am (why do you have to pretend to be in a good mood before 11 am?), which is to be expected, but they're also high enough to recognize their own particular shortcomings, their exclusive ornate prejudices, which helps Martin learn to accept Philomena's difference, her loves, her passions.
Philomena doesn't shy away from defending her values and even though she's likely never studied advanced rhetoric nor frequently schmoozed in realms where it's condescendingly applied, she holds her own when Sixsmith criticizes her beliefs, breaking through his sound observations (with which I tend to agree) with cold hard forgiving faith.
How she could continue to believe after what certain religious authorities put her through is beyond me but she does and justifies her position coherently enough.
The metaphorical extract (the breach) distilled from their colourful exchanges is a fluid effervescent bourgeoisie, competent mediator of the clashes, comprehensive, cogent, chill.
First time I've briefly forgotten it was Judi Dench acting for awhile, her divergent performance creatively testifying to her dynamic multidimensional strengths.
Not that I've seen most of the films she's been in.
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Nebraska
Stark patient self-sacrificing unconditional love idealizes David Grant's (Will Forte) compassion in Alexander Payne's laid-back Nebraska.
A road trip.
Family bonding.
Grievances aired.
Irrationality, coddled.
The film contrasts sympathetic understanding with grotesque blatant greed to generate a gentle hardboiled eccentric microbrew whose earthy hops boisterously blend with its down-home sense of whispered wonder.
Drenched reprieved latent reactive emotion.
It takes a good look at honesty as several close family members state that Woody Grant's (Bruce Dern) misguided claims lack sanity, yet due to their enriched aggrandizing interests they're treated as cold hard facts regardless nonetheless.
These interrelations produce a series of depressingly comic wisps.
The aesthetic modestly criticizes while humbly elevating aspects of rural life and formulates a fecund quaint sterility which gymnastically disables pretentious categorical judgments.
The film seems laid-back and calm even while characters express themselves aggressively but you don't achieve this kind of distinct reflective vacant simplicity without meticulously focusing upon its underlying romance.
Great ending.
Great film.
A road trip.
Family bonding.
Grievances aired.
Irrationality, coddled.
The film contrasts sympathetic understanding with grotesque blatant greed to generate a gentle hardboiled eccentric microbrew whose earthy hops boisterously blend with its down-home sense of whispered wonder.
Drenched reprieved latent reactive emotion.
It takes a good look at honesty as several close family members state that Woody Grant's (Bruce Dern) misguided claims lack sanity, yet due to their enriched aggrandizing interests they're treated as cold hard facts regardless nonetheless.
These interrelations produce a series of depressingly comic wisps.
The aesthetic modestly criticizes while humbly elevating aspects of rural life and formulates a fecund quaint sterility which gymnastically disables pretentious categorical judgments.
The film seems laid-back and calm even while characters express themselves aggressively but you don't achieve this kind of distinct reflective vacant simplicity without meticulously focusing upon its underlying romance.
Great ending.
Great film.
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