The Peanut Butter Falcon

Crafty strategic planning critical timing pugnacious pudding.

An iron clad tenacious second round deftly wrought greased up leviathan.

Another proceeds in error, thieving what could have been his, rather irritated by austere repercussions, well aware that he's truly at fault.

He responds with fury, as if he were legion and not mortal man, this time raging beyond heartfelt mercy, courageous reckless madness.

He has a good heart, he's just slightly insane, or at least doesn't recognize law, or authority, of any kind, unless it's done right by him.

He then saves a stranger from drowning, and they head out on the resplendent run, applying homegrown irate grassroots logic, heartwarmingly bidden, they build quite a raft.

Another proceeds in hot pursuit, unaware she's given herself away, do-gooding yet friendly and sympathetic, disillusioned by rules, expediency.

Does the wrestling school they seek still exist?, and is the Salt Water Redneck (Thomas Haden Church) still there to train them?

They're sought after with sadistic scorn.

Which doesn't mean they can't fall in love.

The Peanut Butter Falcon flips the bird to prudence and regulations, and celebrates primordial will.

Self-righteous magnetism, as adamant as it is impulsive, organically orchestrates as it blindly flexes.

Tenderness and warmth await as compassion and understanding embrace agile elasticity, improvised reason contemplating with raw passionate substance, like wayward soulful jazz, harnessing modernist themes.

Paramount absurdity realistically toned in stereo, jukebox genesis ebullient bayou, madcap maestros unbound and breathless.

Luminescent unrestrained unrestricted dis/orientation, plunging to suffer quixotically, soaked in ir/reverent s(pl)urge.

Reemerging in familial consensus.

Ready for the great wild unknown.

Glad this wasn't made by Scorsese.

Why should forethought have all the fun?

Okay, one character applies forethought. He thinks he's locked down for life, and is therefore reasonably frustrated because he hasn't done anything wrong. The institution where he lives should have taken him out from time to time. A road trip or a day at the beach. Not just two or three rooms forever. That doesn't make any sense.

There's a cool fun sort of vibe within that you don't often see work so successfully.

Like an old school Larry Cohen film.

I think they had fun while they made Peanut Butter Falcon but still took everything seriously.

The feisty spirit of independence.

I highly recommend it.