Old

Engaging thrilling prospects.

Resortful relaxation.

Pack up the fam, head down south.

Fare thee well road weary travellers.

The Cappa(bara) family takes such a spirited initiative, and soon arrives at a stunning locale, where others await and luxury accommodates, the stay promising to be uneventful. 

Briefly after settling in, a special opportunity is secretly presented, a coveted invitation to lounge for a day, reputedly favoured spry striking resiliency. 

Soon they're off with a gourmet spread stretched out and chillin' at the isolated beach, the families engaged in freeform conversation when it becomes apparent that many of them are sick.

Even worse, after an even shorter time it appears as if the young ones have suddenly sprouted, and that everyone is aging indeed, at a rapid unusual alarming pace!

Different methods of desperate escape naturally present themselves without much thinking, each of them as treacherous as the last as the woebegone venturers routinely phase.

And just as Horror Beach or Death Beach seems about to claim its final victims. 

Escape ideogrammatically matures. 

Having been nurtured throughout the ages.

Star Trek themes and plots terrestrially abound in the seductive Old, as rapid aging and medical malfeasance malpractically matricurate along the coast. 

Certainly a creepy caper reminding visitors never to leave the boat, for they may find a pandemic peculiarity contraceptively constructed with scampy decorum. 

Nazi scum experimented on humans as do the fascist Cardassian monsters, such a practice to be met with sincerest defiance, through the aggrievéd art of humanistic condemnation. 

Had the beach's unique capabilities been made strictly known to concerned public agencies, there's no doubt reasonable decorum would have efficiently encouraged effective recon.

It would have made a cool nature documentary since as far as I know nothing quite like it exists.

Just to learn about, like bears or wolverines. 

To remain aware, never to be forsaken. 

*The idea may have come from reckless government initiatives hoping to store toxic waste near vital aquatic resources. 

2067

Spoiler alert.

A grim environmental forecast depicts an uninhabitable world, whose air has become so toxic plant and animal life no longer breathes.

Special masks facilitate community as one last industrious enclave holds out, underground crews working day and night to eclectically maintain the grid's survival. 

Unsuspecting and unaware a gifted technician is suddenly told (Kodi Smit-McPhee as Ethan Whyte), of his bizarre relationship with the future which his genius father cultivated. 

He's tasked with venturing forth through time to find a solution to the crisis, endemic flora that has adapted and in turn healed the ailing world.

Uncertain as to how to proceed he courageously heeds the call nevertheless, and soon finds himself in a future world where trees and plants freely grow partout.

He also discovers his corpse and a highly advanced technological device, which recorded his last interactions and provides haunting evidence and messed up clues.

Soon his closest friend startlingly arrives to lend a hand (Ryan Kwanten as Jude Mathers), but it appears he may not be interested in the cultivation of universal levity. 

Indeed he's come to goonishly ensure that only a select few survive. 

By travelling through the portal.

Abandoning Earth to its chaotic fate.

Nice to see such an embowered ending flexibly fostering collective hope, without much covert underlying foreshadowing, cool to proactively see. 

Australia's making some thoughtful headway into the realm of science-fiction, notably through the art of time travel, I still love these atemporal conceits. 

What I loved about 2067 is that it's not concerned with the select few, it seeks to harvest multivariable accolades from wide-ranging intricate diverse spectrums.

It's leadership it's practical knowledge of what's been done and what can be attained, when cultures emphasize sundry different interactive humanistic applications. 

Even in times of greatest sorrow the humanistic will to cultivate community, and curate widespread prosperity still constructively motivates goodwill. 

Still upholding multifaceted life.

Collective unity.

For generations onwards. 

It doesn't seem like that tough of an equation, it's a huge downer when it doesn't compute. 

Bandit

A criminal breaks free from an American minimum security prison (Josh Duhamel as Robert), and crosses the border into Canada, soon looking for work and lodging as the police search frustrated in vain, the 1980s much less suspicious and routinely hysterical, he doesn't blend, without standing out much either.

He still lacks identity cards and cash so he needs to creatively conjure convincingly, fortunately securing a place to stay, without much luck finding steady employment.

Not really cut out for the workforce, indeed brave but also quite lazy, he soon takes to robbing banks for small sums, and proceeds to do so across the country.

At the same time, his parter matter-of-factly announces she's about to bear young (Elisha Cuthbert as Andrea), filling him with enlivening ecstasy since he's always wanted to have a family.

His lifestyle rather ill-suited to traditional bourgeois relational trajectories, he feels somewhat isolated however, yet rather than attempt to learn a trade and embrace regal commerce and industry, he seeks the backing of a local gangster (Mel Gibson as Tommy), and malfeasantly reengages. 

Things proceed quite successfully for awhile before a local task force takes note.

His wife also figuring things out.

Accompanying him thereafter, from time to time. 

I know the pandemic was a difficult time during which it was particularly hard to make movies, and film studios had to green light questionable scripts and move forward with rash decisions, the period we're in now perhaps one of the worst in cinematic history, does that still excuse Bandit's lacklustre writing, lack of conscience, homophobia and general malaise?, no, I'm afraid it doesn't, this film's a directionless amateur train wreck.

People with no artistic skill and a lot of money still attempt to make commercial movies, and they think it's remarkably easy, and proceed with undaunted confidence in a pleasant atmosphere lacking critical aplomb (Mel Gibson most likely rewriting his lines), no stirring voice providing comment and criticism, good god, was this script even edited?

Bandit falls into the new filmmaking category which functions like grassroots bludgeoned briars, Ronald Reagan is therefore celebrated, and work and a steady job for chumps and fools, anyone limiting the fun a homosexual (the police for instance), they appeal to Robin Hood, but this guy's just a piece of shit.

The major transition hasn't taken place but hopefully things improve since restrictions have been lifted.

Some pandemic films were pretty amazing (Babysitter, Viking).

At least a couple of standouts slipped through. 

Gojira tai Mekagojira

An ancient island peacefully existing off the enlivening breathtaking coast, known for its stewardship and amiable governance suddenly embraces emergent chaos.

A prophecy enigmatically predicting the brazen arrival of a destructive monster, haunts the descendants of the Royal House which once freely administered the land.

Nevertheless, said prophecy also foretells the upswing of two courageous protectors, to halt the progress of the beast, and reinstate harmonious accord.

Without much pomp and circumstance the fated creature uproariously arrives, and begins pugnaciously a' plundering the calm and tranquil unsuspecting countryside.

Looking indeed rather like Godzilla yet not on friendly terms with his monster friends, it soon becomes apparent he's a massive robot after the real Godzilla burns off his skin!

Confrontation leads to complication and soon this Mechagodzilla needs repair, a reputed scientist coerced into fixing the damaged mighty formidable automaton.

When he's once again unleashed will Godzilla disputatiously authenticate?

With the help of the island's mythical saviour?

Once again, it is the legend.

You never know what to expediently expect when the aggrieved Godzilla supernaturally awakens, has he reemerged to engage in conflict or act as combative spiritual advisor?

In Mothra vs. Godzilla it's clear that he's furious with the mainland, and seeks uncompromising visceral discord as he belligerently proceeds forward.

Yet in Gojira tai Mekagojira he demonstrously radiates heroic acculturation, and sets about saving the honest land from covetous invasions from outer space.

Thus, it seems that ye olde Godzilla isn't instinctively interested in traditional teamwork, otherwise he would have noted a keen and like-minded ally in the bellicose bombastic bellwether beast.

Therefore, it appears Godzilla of old prefers to unleash carnage on his own, and must take the lead if disruptively disabling versatile socioeconomic infrastructure.

Hence, he's somewhat like an immortal and intuitively agrees there can be only one (in monster movies), I suppose it would be quite the problem if manifold Godzillas were roaming at large (note the current upsurge in right wing politics).

But has anyone ever considered a Highlander/Godzilla crossover where manifold Godzillas contend for the prize?

Would it be any less ridiculous?

Godzilla Highlander.

Or Highlander Godzilla?

Moonfall

While conducting routine work in space, a strange Venom-like entity belligerently cascades, proceeding to wreak extraterrestrial havoc, its malice resulting in one fatality. 

Back on Earth the lead astronaut's (Patrick Wilson as Brian Harper) pleas find no bureaucratic quarter, and with no proof the higher-ups conclude that he was responsible for the accident (classic Aliens).

He loses his astronaut status and must return to civilian life, his marriage soon falling apart, it's a huge downer, but he keeps things cool.

Meanwhile, a self-taught scientific theorist works odd jobs to pay the bills (John Bradley), while finding creative ways to observe data, and taking care of his cat and mom (Kathleen Fee). 

He accidentally meets Mr. Harper one morning and unfortunately fails to impress, but his work gains more attention when NASA acknowledges the moon's shift in orbit.

In possession of a working theory regarding the moon's new alarming trajectory, the disgraced astro hooks him up with NASA (they're like a less/more campy Flash Gordon and Hans Zarkov), his old partner now its managing director (Halle Berry), the moon about to disastrously crash land.

They improvise a plan nevertheless and are soon extemporaneously space bound.

Destined to adventurously uncover.

Humanity's chaotic origins.

Moonfall's quite the ride the action's fast-paced and non-stop throughout, improbability delineating progression as each new leap is overtly field-tested.

It reminded me of Independence Day almost 30 years later Roland Emmerich's still got it, no doubt crafted through intuitive expertise, and first hand knowledge of cataclysmic virtual reality. 

Spoiler alert: loved how it took on A.I with an ingenious reworking of the Terminator thesis, it does seem likely that self-aware computers will cause quite the disturbance in the nanofuture.

That disturbance may counterintuitively save the planet or at least humanity's role upon it, however, the survivors forced to relearn old school ways to make the most of a world without technology.

Scouts will once again be a big deal and take their place at the forefront of society, while animal populations rapidly expand and our once limitless oceans resplendently recover.

You wonder sometimes about Roswell and if all this technology is somehow related (as I imagine many others have supposed).

But why would aliens want us to create A.I if it's indeed destined to objectively destroy us?

It could be a trap ingeniously devised!

To get us to annihilate ourselves to save on the costs of an invading army. 

😜

The Lost City

A famous adventure/romance novelist (Sandra Bullock as Loretta Sage) begins to question her professional identity, when the launch of her latest book fails to inspire commercial motivation.

She's done it so many times that the book tour and associated hoopla, seem too superficial to sincerely entertain even though her adoring fans can't wait.

She's jealous of the easy going male model (Channing Tatum as Alan) who adorns the covers of her texts as well, he loves the media sensation, this doesn't evince discerning pageantry.

After she turns the anticipated launch into a dire ill-fated farce, she seeks in vain for heartfelt felicity, before a covetous mean-spirited billionaire (Daniel Radcliffe as Abigail Fairfax) suddenly has her kidnapped. 

She's flown to a tropical island and tasked with locating enticing treasure, local Natives imploring them to leave it alone, the alarming obsession metastasizing madness.

Alan soon follows along with an Indiana Jones/James Bond type rescuer (Brad Pitt as Jack Trainer). 

Ill-prepared for the ensuing task force.

Still improvising with resonant throng. 

The Lost City embraces traditional stately oft criticized tropes and accessories, yet effectively makes the age old adventurous point, that its principal goal is to just entertain. 

Therefore, I had to ask myself, am I genuinely enjoying this film?, beyond multivariable criteria, and I had to admit, I was.

I was lightheartedly reminded that novel bizarre stylistic independence, and counterintuitive literary jigsaw, don't imaginatively motivate some, who are more concerned with intuitive fun.

I suppose a lot of the time it isn't the mischievous wordplay, but just hot bods and romantic adventure that make people interested in watching films.

I also suppose it isn't the goal of many to only enhance the authentic aura, of low-budget brainiac films perhaps one day destined for whimsical cult status (it doesn't make any sense!).

The pandemic's cut me off from theatres and my lifestyle changed as time moved on, and I found for the first time in over a decade I had what is known as free time.

I love the free time I have to just to sit back and listen to music.

But movies are meant to be seen on screen.

The direct experience deconstructing cynicism.  

*Loved the Raiders/Terminator pastiche near the end.

Oppenheimer

Nuclear weapons are a horrible thing.

They're easily the most reckless anything anyone has ever created, and it's an international miracle the secrets of their creation have been kept under lock and key to this present day.

For a while it seemed like their manufacture would become a thing of the past, as Russia and the United States struck accord after accord, and seemed ready to cultivate lasting peace throughout a united interactive world, wherein which difference wasn't something to be feared, and absolutes were nothing more than sewage.

But this historical epoch is partially defining itself in opposition to the last 30 years, as Trump has arisen to challenge them, so instead of a brilliant film like Planet of the Apes (1968), which effectively obliterated arguments in their defence, we have Christopher Nolan's Oppenheimer, which revels and glorifies in their creation, overlooking the ill-fated Planet of the Apes sequel, Beneath the Planet of the Apes. 

Paying disingenuous lip service to the ways in which madmen can use them to coordinate mass destruction on a planetary scale, it instead introduces several powerful independent scientists, and examines various controversies as they jockey for position.

Thus, two prominent individuals see their reputations slowly ruined as the film bureaucratically concerns itself with bilateral character assassination, without really generating much character along the way, besides that associated with blind innocence and petty grievances. 

It's more like an academic paper with no sense of objectivity than a convincing film.

Prometheus taught the people to make fire so they could cook their own food and have warmth and entertainment.

Anyone who would have denied them such knowledge is certainly not worthy of divinity. 

Oppenheimer coordinated a team that built a nuclear weapon with the power to kill hundreds of thousands that select military officials can use hopefully only as a deterrent. 

Do you see how Prometheus is not like Oppenheimer? How the comparison is ridiculous?

It does seem more and more like Christopher Nolan is the military industrial complex's darling, as they note in Barbie, the patriarchy just hides its hegemony more effectively these days, and whereas Oliver Stone actually made an incredible film looking at the ways in which JFK's murder was covered up, Nolan's Oppenheimer creates a Republican rib roast to be saluted for years to come, while presumably catering to democratic sympathies (JFK didn't win best picture when it should have [Oliver Stone also made a film that lauded Edward Snowden, it didn't make the case for the mass institutional invasion of privacy through cellphones like Nolan did at the end of The Dark Knight]).

I used to have a friend who was nice to talk to but sometimes didn't take her meds, and thought she heard voices in the walls of people discussing this and that.

I tried to ease her mind when these thoughts would overwhelm her late at night, and even though nothing could convince her that the voices weren't real, the conversation helped lighten the anxious mood.

In turn, it was nice to have someone to talk to, to know someone who didn't quickly change their tune, to have a sympathetic yet mischievous outlook to clarify trajectories and nothing in particular.

She tolerated my French too and even taught me a couple of words. 

I like being nobody in Québec.

And I'll always love working and living there. 

Barbie

It was sad to see the self-reflexive metastyle slowly fade out of cinematic fashion, as the urge to cultivate newfound novelty eventually led to paradigm shifts.

Rather than adhering to the comprehensive guidelines enthusiastically theorized by the critics, the slow return to banal absolutism cacophonically effaced the convivial endeavours. 

Yet as Trump and his minions sought to rework complicated literary trajectories, patriarchically concerned with eternal slaves and masters, a more symbiotic environmental approach gregariously germinated in the wholesome underground, ill-amused with everlasting tethers, and holistically seeking reciprocal gratitude. 

Thus, as the years slowly changed from the 1990s to the 2020s, an intermittent zone materialized, and the do-gooding and collective well-being of the post-war years clashed with feudal modes of expression.

The times during which they had once been employed with malignant rigour and destructive candour having faded from collective memory, the brigands dishonourably proceeded as if they had created something new.

Was it indeed more popular or were studios just attempting to mutate and froth, as a younger generation took the reigns, and vitriolically dismantled their elders's designs?

I didn't think the honourable pursuit of collective well-being and respect and goodwill, was a fad to be gradually replaced however by one-dimensional monocultural narratological goals.

It didn't seem like casting aside relevant millions to tell crass racist jokes, was commensurate with integral progress as commercial interests teleologically contend.

Alas, to rely on Barbie the oft criticized popular doll to redraw the lines, and perhaps create spherical counterintuitive shapeshifting threads like cats playing with multicultural yarn.

Symbiotically speaking, the world of men and women excelling when a level-playing field emancipates, lay androgynous mutual convection, when it works it's totally comfortable.

The world of course multilaterally pulsating to the tune of manifold international drums.

So much passing by unnoticed.

As prominent prognoses ebb and flow.

Mothra vs. Godzilla

A mysterious giant egg suddenly appears off the Japanese Coast, its contents baffling yet still intriguing, as diverse interests eclectically gather.

Unfortunately, environmental initiatives fail to posture before the egg is (absurdly) sold, by local entrepreneurial opportunists hoping to monumentally prosper.

A more ambitious wealthy exhibitionist hopes to create a theme park through Happy Enterprises, and entertainingly showcase the egg while also selling treats and delicious refreshments.

Concerned journalists soon learn of the plot and set about cultivating public opinion, hoping to create a massive uproar which may encourage government intervention.

They lament that there's no legal recourse to directly challenge the developers in court, especially after two miniature citizens suddenly arrive from Mothra's island.

Apparently, the typhoon sent Mothra's egg on a disquieting maiden voyage, and they've come to argue for its return especially since noble Mothra is dying.

The adventurists care not for her plight and refuse to give up their lucrative treasure.

Just as Godzilla comes a' callin'.

Hellbent on countercultural carnage.

A crash course in socioeconomics instructively awaits in Mothra vs. Godzilla, perfectly laid out with accessible language which any curious audience member would easily comprehend (with English or French subtitles 🤷).

Mothra vs. Godzilla may even indeed be a solid didactic tool to be used in classrooms across the land, schools effectively saving resources and time by simply showing this ridiculous film.

Perhaps that's what happened, there's no equivocal doubt that environmental regulations in some jurisdictions are much stronger, and that if you want to develop land like Ontario's Greenbelt, you first have to acknowledge local regulations.

Thus, the public outrage the journalists seek to nurture in ye olde Mothra vs. Godzilla (Mothra shows up in spellcheck but Godzilla doesn't), would likely also be backed up by laws progressively created over the course of the last century.

Hence, instead of bravely spending the last moments of her life epically battling the formidable Godzilla, Mothra could have cared for her fledgling young and perhaps even named or taken them for their first flight.

Perhaps Godzilla disputatiously emerged to figuratively encourage the creation of such laws, I've seen several nature shows about Japan, and it seems as if their wildlife is flourishing (except for whales 😢😭😿🐋).

Sad that Mothra had to physically give her life for such a turn of events to jurisprudently take hold.

Her larvae born argumentatively composed.

Their perspicacity irritating the aggrieved Godzilla!