Driven

A greedy pilot hits hard times after the FBI catches him transporting drugs, during a trip where he also visits Disney World with his family, dissolute rupture, grievous error (Jason Sudeikis as Jim Hoffman). 

He agrees to become an informant rather than spend 30 years in the can, and he's set up with a house in the suburbs with a modest income to keep up appearances.

With nothing major immediately materializing he has time to relax and socialize, meeting John DeLorean (Lee Pace) of all people, the two strike up a laidback friendship.

DeLorean's trying to find a way to create and manufacture a unique car, which harnesses years of hands-on experience, in a smooth flowing incomparable ride.

But it's a rather complicated affair involving manifold intricate parts, how to build it, where to build it, how to market it, while still maintaining control of his company.

Hoffman's advice proves fertile and the project sees mechanistic germination, and although there are impassioned critiques, forward motion is swiftly accelerated.

Jim and his wife (Judy Greer as Ellen Hoffman) enjoy their new life attending parties without having to work, but the FBI hasn't forgotten their commitment to engage in duplicitous sincere snitching.

As problems abound for DeLorean it becomes apparent he needs 30 million.

Which Hoffman's drug trafficking contact (Michael Cudlitz as Morgan Hetrick) can provide.

If he's willing to boldly risk everything.

Insights into a world I've never understood in terms of practical realization, lucrative ideas productively entwined with the design for commodities people actually want.

I like driving cars they're convenient but I've never really wanted to own one, bus métro and kayak so much less of a bother, not to mention simply strolling around.

It seems like if there's money to be made there are many better ways to acquire it within the law, that don't engender latent paranoia in everything you do afterwards throughout the day.

And problematize flourishing friendships as they do for Mr. Hoffman in Driven, as he struggles with competing loyalties ethically conflicting with frenzied comeuppance.

A cool film nevertheless directly interrogating high stakes happenstance, still somewhat suave considering its blunt extolled intermittent playful hi-jinx.

Perhaps I'll own a vehicle some day, I'm hoping green alternatives are much cheaper (and faster) by the time that happens.

Don't know if I'll drive it that often.

Although it'd be nice to hit the open road. 

The Abyss

Undercover underwater exploration yields illuminated booty, as the navy teams up with rig workers in search of a lost submarine.

The navy's more concerned with the whereabouts of a noxious radical however, which may lead to mass destruction if acquired by belligerent ambition.

But as they're searching intent deep down they're freely greeted by a burst of light, accompanied by frisky cognizance and inquisitive concerned awareness.

The lifeforms initially remain aloof solely presenting themselves with hesitance, but they're crystal clearly lucidly detected as a feisty doc curiously ventures forth (Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio as Lindsey Brigman).

Her feisty husband doubts the provenance of what she earnestly claims she's seen (Ed Harris as Bud Brigman), their upcoming divorce complicating things further as a storm approaches high above.

The aliens eventually appear for most of the crew in aqueous form, possessing the ability to transform water into a conscious mobile thermocline. 

But they get too close to the nuke and one of the navy personnel goes psycho (Michael Biehn as Lt. Coffey).

Deciding it's time to nuke them.

They were just trying to make new friends.

Severely critiquing warlike ambition while fluidly celebrating animate life, The Abyss problematizes piqued peculiars with maddening flush improvised contention.

It was made with concern for particular individualistic collegial resonance, so multiple characters alertly express themselves throughout both the merriment and the malevolence.

What's to be found deep down in the ocean's an enigmatic imaginative catalyst, I'm surprised these kind of films don't show up more often, so much submerged terrain remains unexplored.

Recall the episode of Star Trek: The Original Series where they survey the pleasure planet (Shore Leave plus Once Upon a Planet in Star Trek: The Animated Series), to fathom unpredictable eccentricities resolutely emergent in manifold epochs.

Could this idea have been ethereally transmitted by mischievous immortals living far below, equipped with an evolutionary laboratory hellbent on nourishing life?

The balance of nature is somewhat awe-inspiring in its multilateral environmental harmonies.

The omnivorous bear, the speed of the cheetah.

How do plants evolve to mimic their surroundings?

While that idea's rather ridiculous I can't deny I like television and film.

How does something mimic without consciousness?

An ethereal level unilaterally imperceptible.

*With Chris Elliot (Bendix).

Welt am Draht (World on a Wire - Part 2)

It's not for me to say how influential Welt am Draht was, but it came out in 1973 with ideas that seem like they were ahead of their time.

Although I don't have an exhaustive knowledge of '60s and '70s sci-fi, I wasn't expecting the film to be in line with late 20th and 21st century shenanigans (it's the earliest example I can think of which showcased such ideas).

It concerns virtual environments within virtual environments with some characters aware of their electronic anatomies, eventually responding with paranoid pride, in relation to fractious fundamentals.

The parallels with Star Trek: The Next Generation's Moriarty holodeck character are striking and it may have been where STNG originally found the idea.

Although contemporaneity suggests that different writers were likely thinking about the same ideas simultaneously, if I understand the concept correctly, finding alternative modes for similar hypotheses which various people were considering at the time.

With Welt am Draht's different virtual environments there's a set up similar to Total Recall as well, where people can virtually live someone else's life to gain surrogate sensation. 

Thus, once again, Philip K. Dick may have provided the framework which another artist then expanded upon in his or her work, his story We Can Dream it for You Wholesale (Total Recall) having appeared in 1966.

Thus, Star Trek's holodeck and Total Recall combine as characters within the dreamscapes become aware of their existence, and then seek knowledge of the world beyond while trying to avoid distressing authorities. 

Where does the dreamscape begin, without origins is there organic life?

Multiple dimensions existing in exponential parallel ethereally linked through electronic spirit?

Conscious and substantially determinate yet existentially star-crossed in manifold chrysalis.

Like on Star Trek: The Next Generation I suppose, in episodes which play with space and time, notably Parallels which sees Worf disrupt the universe on his way home from a bat'leth tournament.

Who's to say who's taken different manifestations of these ideas to their most compelling extremes, but The Matrix did an excellent job, and it looks like they're making another sequel.

The first part of Welt am Draht pulls you in with cryptic offbeat uncanny rhythms, it's cool to watch as Fred Stiller (Klaus Löwitsch) slowly discovers the blueprints of his reality.

The second part doesn't add much but it's a cool drawn out conclusion.

It's fun to watch sci-fi sans special effects.

Love it when technological constraints don't spoil good storytelling.

La planète sauvage (Fantastic Planet)

Far off on a hectic planet humans (oms) are treated as undesirables, the dominant haughty traag species rather intolerant of different lifeforms.

They possess much greater height and ancient meditative traditions, along with cryptic advanced writing which the oms can't readily decipher.

They manage the om population with paternalistic uptight disdain, their children allowed to keep oms as pets, the free wild peoples treated like vermin.

One rather observant om is introduced to traag learning however, lessons transmitted through an omniscient horseshoe which traag children use to develop and grow.

Many om years pass and young Terr (Barry Bostwick/Eric Baugin/Jean Valmont) acquires much sought after knowledge, his owner aging at a much slower pace, losing interest with her pet as a teenager.

He takes his opportunity to escape and brings the encyclopaedic technology with him, abruptly adjusting to life in the wilderness, with peeps wary yet impressed by his learning.

Thanks to the didactic device many oms begin to acquire an education, and prove just as adept as they reflexively do here upon our own bountiful Earth.

But the traags decide their numbers have grown much too large to be safely managed.

Presenting an ambitious and wicked plan.

To engage in full-on extermination.

Rather unsettling to casually watch as humans fall prey to strategic whims, carelessly launched by unsympathetic derisive dominant domineering giants.

Their diminutive size and lack of resources leaves them vulnerable to various beasts, as do their scattered proud distrustful clans who bravely subsist in scant isolation.

But the survivors bond in an abandoned rocket field and earnestly learn from Terr's technology, hoping to escape to a clandestine moon upon which they will be free from vile traag tyranny.

Education proves vital indeed and soon a less dependent state of affairs emerges.

As ingenious pedagogical applications redefine ancient endemic balances.

The parallels with our cherished home planet should not be dismissed or even overlooked, as billions of animals spend their entire lives in cages awaiting to be served up as food.

The industry could be much more humane and if meat consumption decreases we could stop global warming.

Unfortunately, pigs and cows can't read.

But there are still millions of humanoids who support them. 

Welt am Draht (World on a Wire - Part 1)

The real world composed of constituent parts practically indicating material projections, consistent tradition reliably upheld as concrete forms refrain from transfiguration.

Fortunately, as time passes and resonant patterns are detected, one is able to generally predict what will physically emerge, structural dependability routinely reckoning as if coherence were indeed endemic, the same buildings appearing on the same streets, libraries convergent, impeccable sandwiches.

The sure and steady can lack variety so spice is eagerly sought like in Plato's Republic, and tempting alternatives emphatically compete to provide soulful sustenance exotic flavour.

Thus the arts envision trajectories upon which to reimagine certified certainty, various in/distinct bold metamorphoses cleverly conjuring kaleidoscopic craving.

Sentiment and novelty oscillate within as abstract patterns extract newfound tradition, but with less elementary toned durability than a street or a house one might expect to see.

Gregarious garnishes astounding adornments laidback lynchpins sombre tomes, remonstrance rhetoric polarities syntheses multiform blends unilateral conceit.

Proceeding with an open-mind may lead to fulfilling multilateral abundance, with intuitive hierarchies inevitably developing, kept in check through reflexive consumption.

Are you too specialized too arcane too generic, too lacking in practical sense?, such questions can lead to a more diverse palette if one can be bothered to consider them effortlessly.

Aren't buffets the best a feed at the trough when they're well-prepared, plate after plate of sumptuous treats judiciously accompanied with varied desserts?

It seems like the will of the pandemic is to encourage lush virtual environments, but after spending so much time indoors it'd be nice to pitch a tent in Parc Jeanne-Mance. 

Welt am Draht (World on a Wire) examines virtual realities as artificial intelligence emerges within them, layers upon layers of structural mimesis provocatively contemplating organic life.

Who's to say if this world we live in isn't a computer program ingeniously manufactured?

I used to think that until I broke my finger.

Related ephemera notwithstanding. 

Koko: A Talking Gorilla

Koko: A Talking Gorilla presents pioneering documentary wildlife footage, shot long before Love Nature and BBC Earth emerged, it offers a direct hands-on approach to the crafting of naturalistic wonder. 

In a scholastic setting.

Is it possible for gorillas to acquire humanistic language skills?

Yes, Barbet Schroeder showcases the evidence within, and even if Koko doesn't learn to sign perfect human, he still learns hundreds of words by heart, and can engage in elementary small talk.

However, I have to admit that as I watched Koko and Penny Patterson communicating, I felt kind of bad for the verbose beastie, who seems somewhat uncomfortable a lot of the time within the film.

He often seems like he'd much rather be foraging around in the jungle, and although the experiment produces compelling results, did it thoroughly take into account Koko's natural instincts, his innate desires to gorilla about?

I like experiments that teach us more about animal kind because they're good at deconstructing stereotypes regarding non-humans, but so many of the them end with horrible results for the animals, that sometimes it seems like it's best not to conduct them.

I'm thinking about Susan Casey's book Voices in the Ocean: A Journey into the Wild and Haunting World of Dolphins, anyways, which starts out with a cool example of beatniks swimming with dolphins in Hawaii, while totally respecting dolphin kind's independence.

But then chapter after chapter chronicles horrendous interactions between well-meaning (and not so well-meaning) scientists (and others) and dolphins, which left me with a rather critical outlook regarding such experiments, since so many of them ended horribly.

I think animal awareness has remarkably improved in some countries and regions over the past 20 years, and there's certainly an abundance of caring people sharing animal love on the internet.

And I imagine generations are following David Attenborough's incredible example as they respectfully interact with our fellow Terran inhabitants (who have just as much of a right to this planet as we do). 

But the good's still mixed with an abundance of bad of cruel practices and experiments that are socially accepted, not to mention cultural prejudices which display shocking misguided horror, sign up for emails from Peta, be prepared for extreme woe.

Koko's treated well in the film and the people involved don't employ old school viewpoints, which justify outrageous abuses of intelligent animals based upon preferences for intellectual standing.

Rather they try to break down the barriers which uphold so many distressing rationalities. 

Koko still seems like he'd rather be playing.

I'm not sure where to draw the line.

I wonder what Jane Goodall thinks of this film?

Note: I love Orangutan Jungle School.

Delirious

A kindhearted freespirit abounding with compassion finds himself inanimately indisposed, without lodgings or food or friendship or frenzy he wanders New York in search of something new (Michael Pitt as Toby Grace). 

He meets a photographer (Steve Buscemi) who spends his time in search of celebrity appearances, which he swiftly captures then sells to earn a buck, used to life on his own and a rather ornery set of rules, he takes young Toby in and sets him up as his assistant.

As Toby's introduced to the long hours of the paparazzi, he tries his best to ease his benefactor's troubled mind, at times breaking through the multilayered masochism, to placate his cantankerous sadospurious vengeful bitterness.

Mr. Grace is a solid character oft maligned for its gentle trusting, and natural sympathetic instincts, and resonant altruistic charm.

He lacks competitive calculating individualistic self-promotion, and has no time for guts or grievances, he's inherently non-violent.

He's more concerned with friendship than relationships or ownership, and can forgive grand impositions without foolishly giving in.

Delirious is quite romantic as Toby suddenly succeeds, yet still caught up with hardboiled dissonance as his jealous patron won't forgive him.

I suppose the grass is greener and many people covet wealth, but isn't it also important to chill and not concern yourself with opulence. 

I'm afraid I tend to see jealousy as an inhibiting destructive force, which slowly leads to spiritual ruin if left unchecked in freeform dissolution.

When you detect that people are trying to make you jealous, ask yourself, are these people good friends?, there's so much wonderful friendship out there with people who don't try to make you jealous.

Sometimes people share things without intending to show off or brag, they simply just like sharing things and don't see the harm in doing so.

The world does seem to be caught up with jealousy though, and as it blindly promotes incoherence so much innocence is lost.

You can preserve such innocence without getting duped over and over again, the two don't go hand in hand, Toby's actions offer a clear example.

Although ridiculous at points, Delirious demonstrates compassionate understanding, goodwill productively materialized, which even brought a tear to me eye.

Taking out your own shortcomings on others is as impractical as it is dispiriting. 

Better to slowly walk away.

Let them find others who prefer that kind of thing. 

Przypadek

Can alternative decisions made in relation to one specific random event produce remarkably different outcomes for an inquisitive mind adapting?

Is it possible that the same person could emphatically respond with melancholic gusto, to diametrically opposed scenarios with shocking dialectic outcomes?

With or without exciting possibility with political support or in the thrilling underground, perhaps with traditional familial responsibilities, could the same person react so divergently?

As if sociopolitical engagement is a mischievous abstract maelstrom, different vessels like practical responses to a constantly shifting incredulous multiplicity.

As if the unexpected the unforeseen consistently introduces unprecedented dilemmas, which reimagine concrete foundations in need of striking transformative flux.

To stay afloat you employ grey flexible conducive relevant bold applications, circuitously dissected by ideological currents simultaneously engaged in the same opaque struggle.

Personal appeal and gracious mentoring provide fleeting cerebral provisions, from one piquant portfolio to the next, subjective instinct objective humour.

Competing forces build dams and levees attempting to limit the Kafkaesque exposure, material movements and spiritual sustenance providing relief within the grand disorder.

Isms and ists market intellectual plumage attempting to bridge variable discreet gaps, consistently haunted by resonant biology (hunger) as they uphold existential preservation. 

The absolutist seeks total control of the entire byzantine aqueous edifice, presuming resulting tsunamic ostentation will one day be followed by mass mellifluity.

The democrat limits the forbidding forces and offers advice for multivariable instances, celebrating fluctuation itself out of sincere respect for public opinion.

Witek (Boguslaw Linda) is immersed within different currents in Kieslowski's Przypadek, immanent ideological commitments compromising noble romantic resolve.

Even the lavish lagooned levitation leads to despondent airborne rupture, every random disparate path linked through chaotic contemporaneity.

Give me a raft or a kayak I suppose, some good bread and a variety of cheese.

A ride hitched on the back of a whale.

Some good books.

A salient film.