Sometimes the art of decision making puzzles keen observers, as they wonder why a specific course was taken, when so many others could have been adopted.
At others the decisions seem apt, well-attuned to the unexpected circumstances, perhaps lacking in thrilling variety, but still well-suited to the agenda at hand.
Politically speaking, I suppose every decision undergoes polarization, livelihoods earned through creative dissonance, the maintenance of strict partisan argument, stirring the pot, as the saying goes.
But regardless of the critical impact, decisions must be made every day, decision makers confident in their reliability, critics happy to point out their errors.
Blindly following decisions is rather undemocratic, insofar as an inclusive politic innately encourages lively debate, but partisan instincts complicate this principle with redeemable awe, culture flourishing somewhere in between, as artistic analysis entails balance.
In the film under examination, a Terran spaceship returns from Venus, carrying wild extraterrestrial cargo, crash landing in the Mediterranean.
Local fisherpeeps witness the crash and venture forth to lend a hand, managing to rescue two crew members, before the ship plummets to the bottom of the sea.
International relations swiftly invigorate a quizzical yet receptive dialogue, as the United States explains to the Italian government that one of their crafts has returned from Space.
The coveted alien specimen miraculously washes ashore, and is found shortly thereafter by a village boy, who quickly sells it to a visiting zoologist.
Earth's environment proves hearty for the specimen who expands at a remarkable rate, soon rivalling the size of an elephant, once no bigger than a sprightly squirrel.
After it escapes decisions must be made regarding its potential capture, and what to do with it if it can be held, prevented from inquisitively exploring.
The surviving colonel knows that it's generally harmless within its diminutive form, but it's grown to such a large size, that the local police have become quite worried.
Fortunately, the colonel knows it can be restrained by electrified nets, and is able to nimbly catch it, before the realization of bland destruction.
But where should they take the shackled beastie?, that question remains unanswered.
Until it's decided to bring him or her to Rome.
Locked down for close observation.
Rampaging potential pending.
Why it wasn't left to roam the countryside while feasting on sulphur deposits isn't explained.
The alien's changing proportions reflect conflicting accounts of its natural physiology.
It's in fact a peaceful beast.
Unaccustomed to grand incarceration.
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