The Boy and the Heron

Tumultuous tragedy bellicose bombardment inhospitable hegemony disconsolate disaster, wartime waspish wincing saturnine dismal devastation laconic lockdown.

A spirited move out of harm's way felicitous fortunes august acculturation, incumbent sadness besought fatigue synchronized siesta voltaic vroom.

Resilient retinue gregarious gatherings sycamore sympathy symphonic stack, unhindered wanderings atavistic adventures non-sequitarzany clandestine quests. 

Distressing disappearance worrisome whittling Sombretown searching hearty solemnity, immersive quandary querulous kibble flexible physics asymmetric stone.

Intangible tinsel impalpable pulp amorphous dimension sibilant sorcery, spiritual succotash insouciant sushi transformative quadrant juxtaposition. 

Whambient wavelengths fantastic frequencies imaginative hyper-reactive illusion, bewildernestled oblique immaterial shapeshifting quagmiracult-de-saquesters.

Archaic sentiment serpentine simplicity quaker o'tantamount reanimation, consistent regroupings chrysalid coordinates oblong addresses arhythmic artistry. 

Aquadrilatticeworkinder'eggstatic palimperception existentorian, quintessenshisha hurrisugarcandolittle exubearingstraitjacket willowridesharangue. 

Sublimerickshawshankbernard encompassing subterranean nexus, dreamlichintegritty gruel mossemboss'kosh granknitty slimpickety bandanana. 

Subconscious sandmanic slumberton reverie quixoticambridge i'deal'emblematic, elephanatic rhinosirriustic wildebeesturnstyle crocodilettantics.

Vacancy velvet caroussel candleliturgy seasaunter Mirvishlistless incredulity, acceleration inquisitive maven curious exquisite tournyquil'bation.

Accented effervest hogtirade levity interlude schism cosmicrobull mist, courageous acoustics tumbledown tweedle discursive reunion familial galaxy. 

Saw a heron the day after I watched this.

In an uncharacteristic spot.

It didn't fly away either, like they usually do when you're up close.

Neat.

I've seen every Ghibli. 

Grave of the Fireflies

Soulful siblings emphatic play youthful deliberations innocent slumbers, confused comprehension sabbatical sedge tragic ubiquity wartime horrors.

Bedevilled bombardment continuous clawbacks inherent disaster allied alacrity, weary world warriors destitute dogma dissident delineation fascist fetters.

Lugubrious license paternal pandora receptive relatives unsought isolation, codes unfamiliar stilted routine acute misunderstanding strict dismissal. 

On their own lacking knowledge and networks improvised desperate sincere initiative, what more could kids be expected to do?, expedient acclimation enigmatic envelopment. 

Initial hopeful exotic ingenuity amicable innovation friendly festivities, bullfrog bullion firefly fortitude exceptional courage elusive symbiosis. 

Severe surroundings draconian doppelgäng stubborn psychosis obdurate angst, pervasive paucities widespread famine stoic starvation communal clashes.

Delirious dolomite contagious collocations unconscious impertinence illicit logic, ventriloquist vestige woebegone withering incredulous sacrilege misanthropic morosity.

A beautiful child anxiously awaits newfound necessities enriching food, her not-that-much-older brother passionately engaged in reasonable acquisitions stealthy sacrifice.

What war creates, the miserable endgame the impoverished hopeless collective terror, inconsolable cadence excessive despondency inexhaustible dolorous interminable distress.

Living off wallpaper dismal demarcations wholesale obfuscations stagnant rejuvenation, static progress apocalyptic nadir limitless abeyance inert productivity.

Undisciplined demagogues illustrious rogues hysterical sedition belligerent aggression, decadent dustbowls ritzy aggregate determinant detritus infertile soil.

Grave of the Fireflies presents life and beauty unfortunately mired in incomprehensible visions.

Painstakingly highlighting the miseries of war.

With nature and storytelling.

And blunt discretion. 

*Kids may be too young for this film's hard-hitting message (don't start wars). It's the saddest children's film I've ever seen.

Terror of Mechagodzilla

Robotic remnants sensationally scattered seabed sentiment covertly collected, awestruck absence belittled jaunting seductive salvage automaton rancour.

Dilettante dinosaur secluded submersion indelicate mind coercive concept, malignant control symbiotic surrogate submaritime sawdust cantankerous clippings.

Stealthy environs determinate strategy hamstrung hijacking tantalizing salience, interplanetary postures ambient armageddon abhorrent apocalypse enigmatic experiment. 

Familial felicity parental pondering dogmatic child filial fidelity, cloistered core values innocent isolation dutiful dagnabbit sequestered solace. 

Indisposed resurrection mechanized reanimation Domtar domination Mechagodzilla, disputatious temperaments argumentative outbursts insouciant ardour eclectic acrimony.

Finagled friendship tantamount teamwork tumultuous talents solemn smithereens, colossal candidature misaligned militants monstrous agglomeration global annexation.

Clandestine infiltration insatiable station erratic complacence dissident contemplation, eminent embarkation exotic distillation yabba-dabba nascence Doonesbury cadence.

Conscientious reluctance harbinger hesitance awkward immersion frenetic fervour, disciplined dalliance rebellious remonstrance Ringwaldo whereabouts lumberfreejacoby's.

Damselznick infatuation co-opted cohesion nefarious negligence neolithic hide, discursive disruptor alien agonzo meticulous Malachi Mt. Rushmoroeuvre. 

Canteborn conducive Caladan candlelight amorustik-tok acoustic ambrosia, agonized decomposed sullen altercation romantic maladroit dissonent engagement. 

Truculent emergence legionnaire lizardoz counterintuitive calicode succour, impassioned battle gargantuan Grenoble despondent destruction gainsay Godzilla.

Epoch endurance silicon studios eccentric enchantments mayhem metamorphoses, consistent concomitant delirious dramaturge ferocious febrile bewildering frequencies.

Endemic change multivariable matadors exuberant bastions abbreviated dispatch, agile acclimations bizarro adaptations extemporaneous interludes geologic sashay.

I wish I could get the sound Godzilla makes on my keyboard.

Audible discernment.

Wavelength latitude. 

Godzilla vs. Hedorah

Embryonic entity necrobotically nurtured infrequently on toxic sludge, post-war excesses woebegone waste detrimentally devastating fertile environments.

Non-existent strategic sustenance absent agendas a lack of will, built-up battlements pestiferous platforms swathed in sewage pernicious poison. 

Centripetal citizenship delicate direction scientific treatises elastic experiments, improvised research piecemeal prognoses acrimonious accidents exacting detail.

Innocent emphatic hopeful reveries freeform playtime spirited dreams, once widely feared and collectively criticized the colossal Godzilla resolutely revered. 

Alien life awkward extraterrestrials fumigaseously feasting on industrial run-off, handlebar hostilities universal clash intergalactic gauze interstellar antipathies. 

Rhythmic reverberations mythical music mirthful melodic hucklebear harmonies, serendipitous scales chromatic metre choral choir clef aerodynamic accolades. 

Worrisome windswept whac-a-mole waffling gargoyle gargantuan maladroit membrane, corporeal carnage objective lesion autocratic cauldron despotic debacle.

Thunderous thermal radioactivity electronic seven-eleven endocrine, scuba-divining oracular auspices clairvoyant cavalcade omniscientific. 

Bellicose brawndywine consistent contagion cumulous cudgel Florentine femurmur, nebulous 'nagerie opaque quibulletin austere obscurity pestilent penchant.

Sustainable mercantile healthy matriculation robust reclamation febrile reforestation, salubrious soil unembellished breath ameli'ore aquifer nutrient Nanabush. 

Refined respiration jungle gymnastics débutante desert mountainous malternate, undersea sequential subsumed serenity verdant conglomerate camplified glade. 

Cool to see the Godzilla movies sticking up for healthy environments.

Science constructively woven in as usual.

With the traditional focus on artistic expression.

Embowering conscience.

Cerebral simplicity. 

Zatoichi's Pilgrimmage

Wishful fervour disciplined diligence respectful resonance wintergreen worship, spiritual succulence ethereal exigence harkening harbour centurion sanctuary. 

Itinerant dorian unobtrusive gait saccharine sinuosity accredited humility, vistamerlane voyages illusory Amblin curious quest-que-c'est limitless zenergy. 

Meticulous ingenue omniscient accuracy pinpointed poignancy avuncular avatar, tumultuous taste feverish feeling holistic hearing sakiline scent.

Mendicant prayer unsolicited solace whimsical wanderings lighthearted legions, lassitude lambience swaggering sway mischievous chillside clairvoyant Cadillac.

Routine confrontation inherent hostility audacious risks foolhardy imagination, vociferous gathering stentorian stamina inevitable clash moribund machismo.

Feudal offrenzies might-is-right bellicose blueprints ubiquitous death, consistent altercations fascist frequencies all those compelling lives suddenly lost.

Democratic utility exotic levelling synthetic strata virtuous excavation, embittered bucolic genuine artistry innocent huile d'olive fluid transistor. 

Unexpected romance feline fascination amorous accolades vivacious vehemence, agendas unknown uncharacteristic sincere affection malleable trust.

Indeterminate forbidden innate zealous envy jealous contingencies, woebegone conflict adventitious disparities mortality unrequited sensational throes.

Imposing challenge mad threatening menace unlimited avarice despotic Draco, ludicrous forces nebulous netherworld prevalent impassioned volatile venom.

Sustainable sentiments logical larkenstone multilateral warlock wherewithal whirlwind, nightingale ninja swashbuckling samurai centripetal shinobi multifaceted magi. 

Demonstrous defensive discursive demarkations elaborate boreal enlightening reservations, manifold misfortune malevolent mosey courageous self-sacrifice ring-around-rosy.

For once, a brief pause on his journeys.

Innocent play and friendly revelries.

Futuristic democratic delicacy.

Comfy collectives.

Inspired individuals.

Zatoichi and the Fugitives

Lonely travels honourable service distinguished expertise impassive unbound, moderate spirits laidback luminosity chillaxed script amicable spawning. 

Village after village undaunted impressions heuristic avenue versatile innocence, thunderous sympathy locked-down elusivity courageous thirst impish bearings.

Synchronous senses volatile venom meticulous maestro macabre maelstrom, jalapẽnned halo vehement vortex invaluable lotus reticent mamba.

Temperate treasure humble happenstance modest mavenlea generous gremlin, supersonic simplicity salt-of-the-earth tenaciously tilled formidably fastened.

Oriole opposition fujitsu fugitives underling unction bellicose bandits, ancillary antennae undisciplined dogma D'artagnan deaconstruct awkward aversion.

Duplicitous deputy calibrated collusion impractical inspection neoclassical nerve, dandelion dodgeball rutabaga ruse cattail collaboration milkweed wham-o.

Humorous doctor fertilized friendship salubrious saki voluminous laughter, adequate slodgings ambient vertices virtuous Vermeer elegant portrait. 

Cacophonous clash macroscopic orchestrations indefinite delineations tsunami surge, Benedictine blade multifaceted mugwamp magnanimusterings trailblazing munificence. 

Despotic dissonance impulsive embarkation rash reorganization insipid rearrangements, woebegone brinkmanship feverish fortitude bold distillations audacious implosion.

The Zatoichi Zephyr freeform and honest carefree caregiving sensational soil, erudite dissections innovative fair play intuitive bravery inherent stewardship.

Consequent wandering itinerant roll call forensic righteousness playful politesse, omniscient albatross farseeing fulcrum compassionate grizzly acute democracy.

Feudal ferocity.

Immortal sympathy.

Cerebral composition.

Heartfelt hommages. 

*A more intricate Zatoichi. With multiple stakes. And tragic final blows. 

Letter Never Sent

Distinguished forests immaculate wilderness slumbering swathes imposing woodlands, resplendent rivers halcyon hilltops embowering glades diatonic dispersal. 

Freeform isolation tumultuous task domicile diligence heuristic fluoride, bushwacking burlap cartographic reconnaissance holistic haystack innate resilience.

Bucolic barnacles finagled firmament lollipop Liechtenstein verdant acuity, geologic serum prehistoric elixir Orion ointment boomshakabalm. 

Tenacious tilling strategically sewn stereoscopic symmetry curvaceous crucible, Candide cultivation meticulous mounds unfathomed furrows syntactical slash.

Sequestered sojourn juniper jaunt candlelit copperfield indelible depot, oracle sediment mineral mantra restorative roseate acrostic thimble.

Drambourine bannocturne nutrient narcolept symphonic synergy Denninger trim, wheelhouse Wittgenstein yodel-ah-hee-hoo sarcophagi spinets cymbaline circuitry. 

Ursa blanchetiquette scorpio samurai sandwishlist mincolent diatriballroom, olfactotem syndicate Mozambique mosey revolveeta varnish chauspices cloaky. 

Eureka Johansel Gretasense soulkien itinerant bold largesse luminescene, resounding detail octopi penzance reverb reaction eccentric ion. 

Fortuitous fortunes dharma Danzigzag linoleum lotion diamunchie main, cognac comptable brandywine sucre almaternal minstrel feverish flight.

Limber hike out declaration articulate response ecstatic vigorous spirits, ebullient motion certified synoptic letterhead limpid tollgate targ.

Pioneering cinematography cloistered finesse agile innovation, metaconstructs simultaneous cynosures exotic legion musketeer 'mersion.

Sublime objective narrative nestling rigorous rustle ominous ocelot, determined opus creative collateral omnibus chapters indigo moxie.

Courageous acting death-defying heights Revenant companion maneuverling magma, endless potential interminable loci circa swamp water exacting accolades. 

*Don't know when nature documentaries became popular in Soviet Russia, but the potential for animal scenes was unfortunately missed in this one. 

**Getting into water like that and remaining to shoot an intricate sequence would have been difficult.

***Iron clad stamina. 

****I've never read Wittgenstein. 

Blood Simple

Ligament liturgy ecstatic entropy impassioned unleashed covert clandestine captions, fledgling fervour innocuous oater newfound necessities cradle crunch.

Resigned shamanatee hesitant harbinger grotesque gumption supine shutterbug, despotic disclosure tragic forbearance reluctant ransom accurséd accounts.

Vigorous fury toxic engagement outcomes unexpected incipient fugue, disgruntled affection fusillade photoshop disclaimed deceptions demonstrative nerve.

Serendipitous enterprise curmudgeon cashew expedient itinerary audacious embrasure, scurrilous sand-wedge lugubrious sigma gossamer getaway gallantine grief.

Accidental discovery mynock misfortune despondent discomfiture hyena hysterics, improvised onrush maladroit excavation environs entombed disconsolate guava.

Awkward ubiquity psychotic stern renegade reanimation potentate pulse, egregious centigrade uncharacteristic bellicose burmeasles inspired feeling.

Reticent explanation hardboiled anxiety encrypted confusion illiterate torque, bewildered bombastic diagnostic distress unwitting algorhythmic detrital spunk. 

Spontaneous chase forensic foreknowledge oblique discretion carcinogen clambake, ambivalent aloha nebulous necromancy beguiling glenigma otiose oblivion.

Gruesome unsettling ominous scenarios borderline barking mendacious maestros, frigid and frozen fugacious fumigation albeit squishy traumatic high tide.

To stay so dismally determined calabrese calculation pervasive ghouls, hemorrhaged matrimony unyielding formulae enervating exotic tollgate truncheon.

To go so wild and spirited jocose rejuvenation on the road, rekindled rebirth exuberant partner uncertain finances chillaxed extolled. 

Obsessive disabled bleak bland envy power-mad meticulous critical observation, lascivious lifestyle no curious family routine remonstrance dull disquietude. 

Darkly comic embalmed compulsion exhaled disillusion cadaverous consignments, concrete contusions objective misalignments worthwhile macabre mordant malaise.

Inchoate gambit excessively beloved calibrated careers acclaimed and distinguished, varicose variety perpetual motion delirious decades homegrown Americana.

*This is the Coen Brothers's first film.

**Noiresque. Worth checking out. 

Spaceballs

A villainous planet wickedly inhabited seeks to plunder a liberated land, using technology intricate and cruel to stubbornly cheat and lie and obfuscate.

Meanwhile that realm's awkward ruler attempts to marry his daughter to a prince, but she responds with vehement criticism before escaping with her droid.

A swashbuckling duo is swiftly contacted to quickly find and bring her home, the treacherous Spaceballs also hearing of her rebellion and soon ludicrously chasing her throughout the galaxy.

They hope they can convince the father to release the code to his planet's airshield, by locating and grimly capturing and then threatening to surgically remodel her nose.

Their planet is out of fresh air and requires newfound untainted oxygen, mad expansive unchecked commercialism having destroyed their once verdant environment.

Bold Lone Star and his companion Barf hope to heroically quash their sick endeavours.

While learning about the mythical Schwartz.

Expediently focused.

Itinerant eternities.

A cut above the old school spoof films once highly regarded amongst discerning youth, Spaceballs welds its exclamatory rhythms one step closer to ribald euphoria. 

With a fast hectic crazed chaotic path it ridiculously orchestrates spastic trailblazing, focused on Star Wars while looking beyond to delicately lampoon old school science-fiction.

Did I love it so much in my youth because I was young and impressionable and didn't know better, or was it indeed genuinely funny and smoothly suited to burgeoning wit?

There are films that I loved way back when that I've watched recently with tired resignation, but Spaceballs still generates laughs and fluidly echoes the temporal spirit.

The creative script and consistent mayhem wildly facilitate playful otherworldliness, brought to life by a strong cast of favourites recklessly emboldened in the bamboozling forefront (John Candy, Bill Pullman, Rick Moranis, Daphne Zuniga, Joan Rivers, Mel Brooks . . .).

I wonder what George Lucas thought of this film there was more of an understanding between comedic and serious works back then.

Comedy was of course never supposed to take over.

And limitlessly expand with destructive absolutism.  

The Fabulous Baron Munchausen

A fantastic fanciful tale eloquently embroidered with enigmatic elasticity, effervescently afloat in ethereal sentiments neigh nautically nebulous efficacious shrugs. 

The dawn of reason of scientific experiment was not without its spirited disclaimers, or at least those who still held fast to incorporeal invention lackadaisically improvised through rhythmic song.

No doubt fearful of lavish reliable widespread streams of revenue drying up, old school traditions wistfully wielded newfound technologies with regal candour.

The new realistic phenomenon most likely responded with fashionable devices (freezers, fridges), which in turn functioned like objective magic and called into question immaterial states.

The ingratiating practical convenience likely won over many orthodox critics, once wholesomely familiar with domestic trends so ubiquitously enveloping they seemed naturalistic.

But the innovative technologies hadn't innocently counted on devastating spiritual longing, or the intense desire to awkwardly believe in ornate grandiose fluid impossibility. 

Thus, wild literary tales continued to advance intangible tractability, for the recreational chez sensational cultivation of ludic flight.

Unfortunately, the collective will to absolutely choose one or the other, led to palpable global distress for many an onerous discordant decade.

Although one option did seem to incorporate facets of theology and agnosticism, and seemed less restrictive in the imposing long-run assuming you kept a level head.

It was ironic that gallant inconclusions rambunctiously led to strict adherence, the fledgling materialism theoretically disposed to communal liberality freeform disjunction. 

Yet obsessed with outmaneuvering their ancient agitators on the world stage, many freedoms were correspondingly denied while many educators bravely deemed otherwise.

Fortunately, there were cultivated realms who did indeed blend and mix and synthesize, to imaginatively create emancipatory domains wherein which bold freedom mischievously manifested.

Still caught between invasive impulses to chaotically rule with dull authority. 

Fearful of invention, loath to spin yarns. 

Over and over.

Ad infinitum. 

A Tale of Summer

A trip to the beach a nice seaside locale enrichingly equipped with chillaxed amenities, the undulant waves and spirited climate effortlessly producing rhythmic sessions.

Waiting for his partner to eventually show up, Gaspard makes another clever acquaintance, who fluidly abounds with interest and insight and has ample time to relax and ponder.

They hit up clubs and hike and wander discussing various random topics, l'amour intently and curiously considered as inquisitive inquiries bear luscious fruit.

His girlfriend takes her time arriving and another woman makes her interest known, one to whom he gives a newly written sea chanty which she helps perform laidback at her uncle's.

He keeps writing and focusing on music while the girls intriguingly present new questions, neither committing nor rejecting nor preferring as summer breezes tranquilly flow.

When his partner finally shows there's a lot already happening in his life.

As pressure mounts to make a decision.

He plays it cool and functions on instinct.

A much less volatile account of people in the act of falling in love, almost without fits and explosions like the mutual infatuations enamour affectionately. 

Without concentrating on love and relationships the continuous dialogue is diverse and thoughtful, examining books and songwriting and individuality it honestly showcases cerebral discourse.

Can he help not being able to make a definitive decision when reasonably tasked, with so many options suddenly available which he didn't initiate or request or engender?

Word choice becomes more and more important as time progresses and feelings intensify, recourse to multifaceted poetic displacements swiftly losing ground to logical accuracy. 

What a summer to exactingly spend overwhelmed with desire and heartwarming expenditure, no doubt conducive to vigorous shanties intuitively written in heart-throbbing throes. 

Life steps in in the end and gives him a way out of the binding dilemma.

Longing and daydream thereby contracted.

Creative efficiency consummately obscured.

Gypsy 83

Bucolic fashions habitually annoy Gypsy Vale as she randomly fluctuates, moving more style to quip to inspiration as concrete dissonance mundanely obscures.

Her friend Clive offers flamboyant accompaniment as they shoot videos and intuitively experiment, their cohesive bond actively facilitating insouciant fun and alternative brokerage. 

One day they learn of an upcoming talent show to be exotically held in New York City, where they've unfortunately never been but would love to energetically check out.

Gypsy's mom couldn't handle the 'burbs and reluctantly moved there years ago, Gypsy hoping to somehow reestablish contact during the voyage although she's still rather angry.

Their road trip adventure spontaneously begins and they soon find themselves travelling state to state, with improvised stops and inconclusive reckonings emergently enabling freeform postures. 

Their keen choice of clothes and elaborate makeup lead to complications as they flourish.

In a world inarticulately composed.

Foolishly observed with dismissive resonance (they run into a lot of flack). 

Good vibes and genuine friendship impressionably motivate in Gypsy 83, as creative sincere individuals find expression through play and fantasy.

Although woe does abound and wherever they go criticisms arise, their inevitable championing of the blasé reverberates dependable amicable rhythms. 

Even amongst their fellow misfits dispiriting vitriol enervatingly erupts, the critical world fraught with intense snobbery which is often more destructive than lowbrow ignorance. 

The Amish hitchhiker adds some flare as they enthusiastically drive along, with complications eventually devastating the inaugural window harmless and playful.

So irritating that so much sadness has to consistently be resiliently overcome, a less vituperative cultural consensus open-mindedly applied leading to less bitterness.

An active life helps the criticisms fade while tenderly engaged in novel exploration.

Tough to believe in a country as dynamic as the U.S.

There aren't more than a handful of chill cities to live in.

Excluding contemporary times. 

*Criterion keyword: lounge.

Shark Whisperer

I suppose the main issue with Jaws is not that it presents a terrifying man-eating shark, it's more that it's an exceptionally well-made film and a remarkable stand out amongst monster movies.

So many monster films come and go but Jaws is a phenom with staying power, the artistic intent wasn't to kill a bunch of sharks (as an interview states on my VHS copy), but it's still a huge thorn in activist's sides.

Ocean Ramsey is an incredible animal activist who has chosen to spend her life defending sharks, alongside her husband Juan Oliphant who films her activities off the Hawaiian coast.

She's been in love with the ocean since but a wee lass growing up on the island, gravitating towards sharks as time passed her work leading to a ban on shark fishing in Hawaii.

She has no fear of the animals and even cozies up with massive Jawsesque great whites, swimming with them without a scuba tank since she can hold her breath for 6.5 minutes.

She's been doing it for so long that she recognizes dozens of the sharks she swims with, who also recognize her and can indeed be called shark friends.

Her knowledge of shark behaviour is highly-regarded by some scientists, who often frown upon pseudo-science but still appreciate what she's done.

I imagine animal peeps will love her, her love of animals is contagious, and the work she does is monumental in raising shark awareness across the land.

Sharks do attack people from time to time but the general frequency remains quite low, I imagine they're much like bear attacks and bears hardly ever kill people.

If I remember the stats from Kevin Van Tigham's Bears (Altitude Superguide) correctly, they only killed around 98 people in North America in the 20th century, they're no doubt frightening in the cultural unconscious, but they're often more afraid of people than they are of them.

The key with Jaws and other monster movies is to remember that they're works of fiction, and although their tales invite sensation, they're not realistic in the slightest.

Unfortunately, many people don't see it that way and confuse the fiction for reality.

Which is why documentaries like Shark Whisperer are so important.

Like it frequently states, sharks need protection.

*A note advertising Shark Whisperer could be displayed on copies of Jaws purchased or rented physically or online. 

The Earthling

A curious youngster who's been raised in California finds himself back in Australia visiting the Outback, his Aussie dad resolutely determined to introduce him to his heritage.

But he's not ready for the immersion and shows hesitation when boldly tasked, his father realizing it will take some time to get him used to the verdant zone.

Meanwhile, a cranky elder vigorously returns to the old haunting grounds, dying of cancer he hopes to make it resourcefully back to his old homestead.

He's a freakin' tough mofo who built his house out of rocks from the forest, with his bare hands well far away from road or industry or helping hand.

The young boy's parents begin to squabble on the top of a massive cliff, and as he searches for ample firewood their camper flies off, death awaiting below.

He's crestfallen and patiently waits for his mom and dad to emerge from the wreckage, myriad animals making the night seem rather frightening as it descends.

He's soon discovered by the grouchy man who shows no sympathy when they meet.

And introduces an no-nonsense regimen designed to teach him wilderness survival.

The Earthling's from a different time when Man's Men featured more prominently in film, not that they don't still today I just can't imagine a new film that's this insensitive. 

The poor kid has just lost his parents and at one point his cantankerous saviour, leaves him alone on an imposing cliff face while a pack of wild dogs bite at his feet below.

In classic hardboiled fashion everything's find and they're friends at the end, the young child who once feared going swimming in mountain pools now ready to catch wild birds and wallabies.

I imagine it was stubbornly made in the bountiful wake of ye olde Storm Boy, with which it jams to the hard-edged sounds of deafening clashing bleak death metal.

The child in Storm Boy having been judged to have comfortably had too much of the good life, he of Earthling is obstinately taught to fend for himself hours after his parents die.

The wildlife shots are amazing many different Australian animals shown, from echidnas to koalas to emus there's a cute-cuddly feast for the loving romantic.

Indigenous wisdom is shared and relied upon as they diligently make their way through the bush as well.

Extremely unsympathetic.

With a ton of cool shots from the Outback. 

The Freshman

One of the strangest phenomenons I discovered while reading animal-themed literature in my youth, was found in Farley Mowat's Sea of Slaughter which I couldn't find the strength to finish.

It's a remarkably detailed account of mass extinction in North America, of the myriad species that have gone extinct since ye olde Columbus finally landed.

It was too sad for me to get through and the lack of sustainable development initiatives was disheartening, environmental groups pushed aside with much more authority and infantilization than they are these days.

The general lack of concern for the lives of integral multidimensional animals, reminds me of a made-for-TV film they used to show every year in my youth.

It was designed to encourage children to stop caring about farm animals, in the film a young child passionately loves their pet, who is one day destined for the dinner table.

By the end, they have accepted that their good friend indeed had to be sacrificed, and even though they're rather sad, they still get on with work and play.

I didn't buy it, I still felt bad for the innovative animal friend who had to be slaughtered, and although many other viewers accepted the outcome, I never really saw why it was shown across the land.

Wanting the schoolyard teasing and criticisms to stop I never really pushed the matter, however, and went about my daily routine as other shows appeared on television.

Nevertheless, in Sea of Slaughter Mr. Mowat thoughtfully points out, that when some bird species were going extinct, scientists killed many of the last remaining individuals.

They did so so they could preserve their stuffed remains within a display case, and write about their lives and habits with ominous summative elaboration.

Why they didn't try to save the species was what surprised me the most, in my youth they were the ones dependably engaged to protect endangered animals.

Why does the carnal instinct to embrace death with misguided enthusiasm, still drive so many psychotics like the ones you find within The Freshman?

Fortunately, as the film demonstrates, clever entrepreneurs consistently cheat them.

But what for a world where it wasn't necessary?

To stop people cashing in on death.

*I don't know if it's a must-see for Godfather fans, but I recommend it, it's well done.  

Excalibur

The reliable maintenance of fantastic legend convivially maintained century after century, as the present consistently bores its contemporaries and they adamantly search for entertaining alternatives. 

Odd that a nation as old as Britain doesn't cash in on more of its legends, aren't King Arthur and Robin Hood and Churchill just peas in the tumultuous historical pod?

Their markets are no doubt durable and habitually enable modest artists to prosper, even if some examples lack daring or innovation or narrative depth or multivariability. 

When to release the next instalment look to the Jurassic Park franchise I would, I was crazy excited to see the first one, and lacked interest after no. 3, but so much time had passed before Jurassic World came out, that I found myself enthusiastic again.

I remember seeing the Disney Camelot cartoon when but a wee lad in the 1980s, and how excited I impressionably was to see King Arthur wield sword from stone.

The idea of divine agency still genuinely compelling and keenly motivating, so odd to see it televisually disseminated in mad political advertisements. 

The idea never loses its intriguing longevity decade after decade millennia after millennia, but it ebbs and flows through the passage of time, logic and reason having lost popular ground in recent times due to the internet.

It's disheartening to see so many nations of well-read citizens lugubriously reduced, to listening to broadcasts spread by dictators that they were able to see through when they were 7.

You see the problems with dictatorships or monarchies or oligarchies played out in Excalibur, wherein which you have Arthur's prosperous reign followed by that of woebegone tyrants.

The sad reality that many strict rulers don't seek stable food supplies and infrastructure maintained, but rather personal aggrandizement that leaves the people starving and destitute. 

Thus, democratic stewardship tends to avoid despotic excesses, but the internet is making it ironically unpopular and volatile hardships are quickly returning.

You see the pattern laid threadbare in Jonathan Fenby's France: A Modern History, as manifold wild political compositions emphatically emerge in France post-1789 (42 different governments between World Wars).

But he points out how they eventually stabilized a working efficient civil service, with democratic goals at its tender heart, which has kept things running smoothly throughout the upheavals.

Something to shoot for something to preserve as the Internet Tyrants frustrate like Khan.

So many components they can't comprehend.

Which drives them to seek absolutism all the more. 

What About Bob?

The traditional meeting once a week between the maladjusted and their doctors, the routine format innocently encouraging freeflowing thoughts and observations.

A set time-limit producing boundaries within which to fluidly optimize potential, the information shared creating a narrative through which diagnoses can be stipulated.

The expansion or contraction of the framework occasionally necessary confidentially speaking, as dull humdrum repetitive stasis ridiculously shifts into ludicrous gear.

The quaint determination of coordinates bringing psychiatrist and patient together outside the office, likely universally frowned upon as far as professional relationships go, the possibility of misguided friction leading to awkward unorthodox quandaries, inherently structured by comic accident but at times reaching obsessed despondency.

The giving of advice so often unrewarded and intermittently resented by the genuinely insane, who can't accept a humble position within any sociocultural contract.

Tender affection can also characterize habitual desires to play or fraternize, degrees of comfort misread misinterpreted as unexpected meetings flow.

While the offering of modest counsel hopes to clarify points of confusion, the continuous embrace of unsolicited comment forged through madness can churn and fluster.

What seems irritating to you in consistent surprising recurrent conversation, may seem much less irksome to others who only entertain it in modest intervals.

As you point out your irritation and they swiftly counter with disbelief, the vexation itself can exemplify the obnoxious development of a syndrome.

If typically ensconced meaningfully within a reasonable scientific realm, burgeoning unacademic study may stifle clear-headed lucid imagination. 

Generally confined to the family unit it seems rather harmless as expressed by children, but continual confrontation with compulsive lunacy can sincerely obfuscate acute illustrations.

Steadfast reason having maladroitly transformed into random illogical glib orchestrations, dependable equilibrium wildly shuts down and leaves incoherent tense bewilderment.

Thank god for the onset of summer gleefully shouts parents everywhere.

Who have hopefully found enough time.

To regroup, decompress, and sterilize. 

E.T

The decent of an alien spacecraft tantalizingly generates communal interest, but the bold residents arrive too late to wholesomely facilitate freeform greetings. 

The aliens depart quite swiftly yet distressingly leave behind one of their own, who makes his way through the foreign land until he finds homemade random shelter.

A young lad left out of the games enthusiastically played by his brother and friends, soon locates the courageous alien but his story is disbelieved.

Not that long after he manages to bring the chill integral extraterrestrial, back inside his lodgings to stay thus until alternative arrangements can be made.

He doesn't mention the new friendship to his mom but his older brother and younger sister soon find out, and they make quite the chillaxed team as they interactively explore different dimensions. 

Soon the young boy who found him discovers they share a special bond, that he can feel what his alien friend feels as he goes about his inquisitive business.

But the powers that be have also taken note and know that a being from space is hiding.

And take obnoxious steps to invasively find him.

While untethered youth bridges fascination. 

Childhood dreams congenially manifested as heartfelt amicable friendship blossoms, and the spirited exuberance of youngsters at play invariably illustrates fun and mischief.

Animal integrity viscerally shines through as attempts to dissect frogs go haywire, and the dynamic amphibians emphatically escape from cold and calculated experimentation. 

I wonder if that scene has left a lasting impression on public schooling, I know I never had to dissect frogs in class, perhaps it was like that elsewhere in North America?

E.T celebrates the wonders of life as the gentle alien makes things grow, he or she possesses the miraculous gift to exotically encourage spontaneous regeneration. 

There's something to be said for lighthearted science-fiction that generously concerns itself with freeflowing life, and isn't intently focused on conflict even one of the authorities takes a shine to Elliot. 

Elsewhere, to see Spielberg's genius at work, when Elliot's mom first meets E.T she's holding a cup of coffee.

You'd expect her to drop that cup and for it to smash on the floor.

But Spielberg has her pour the coffee slowly down on the ground instead.

To outwit expectations.

I imagine it's still a must-see.

**Did you know that E.T, Star Trek II, Blade Runner, and John Carpenter's The Thing all came out in the same summer? That's gotta be the best sci-fi summer ever. What a time to be a budding young film buff! 

Aladdin

With the situation in the Middle-East becoming worse and worse every day, I have to ask myself, what would I do if I had three wishes regarding the region?

First wish: a long-lasting truce between the Palestinians and the Israelis. 

It's sad because it seemed like one was developing before the Palestinians butchered the 1,200 Israeli settlers. Now, after Israel's over-the-top reaction, it seems like peace is a long long long ways off, although there was a time when it seemed like England and France would never stop going to war.

Second wish: moderate life-affirming governments replace the bloodthirsty rulers of Israel and Iran.

I imagine most people in Israel and Iran just want to do what most people everywhere just want to do, that is, work a solid day and then relax with friends and family afterwards. Unless they're extremist nutjobs, they likely don't want to fight in a war that will only profit other extremist nutjobs. So it goes decade after decade in the Middle-East. Israel exists. And it's quite the cool place I hear. 

Third wish: the countries of the Middle-East forge a lasting peace through the creation of an interconnected trade union whose continuous maintenance benefits everyone.

If only they could do what most of Europe has already done. It's not too late for Russia to join. After signing a lasting peace deal with Ukraine. 

Silkwood

A difficult life tempestuously driven by the sincere desire to share bold reckonings, dynamic friendships and bohemian protocols keeping things multilaterally attuned.

Work at the fuel fabrication site where she makes rods for nuclear reactors, has its life-threatening ups and downs while employees maintain a chillaxed atmosphere.

What to do when there isn't any work and you don't want to move far away from home, the overt danger seeming much less perilous when the steady paychecks start rolling in.

But day in day out as people get sick or find themselves exposed to cancer generating elements, builds up the tension and ensures the union actively engages on their behalves.

Trouble intensifies for Ms. Silkwood after she agrees to go undercover, and obtain photos of a technicians's alterations to definitive indicative core sample negatives.

Her partner leaves her after she takes on the increasing clandestine covert responsibilities, and problems get much much much worse to the point where she's left on her own recognizance.

The life of an activist hardships incumbent serialized dilemmas consistently challenging, the disappearance of networks and friends and colleagues as the stealthy work boldly intensifies.

With the union helping to coordinate hardworking team-based initiatives however, effective groups of likeminded people can efficiently criticize industrious greed.

I've never been a fan of nuclear power I imagine I've mentioned this before, it's certainly convenient if you can't build massive dams but still leaves an ominous environmental footprint.

Nuclear material takes thousands of years to gradually break down into harmless components, that's a long time to have to monitor deteriorating waste at different sites.

You'd have to outlast the Roman Empire have a much longer run than The Simpsons or Frasier, how can you guarantee the monitoring of such sites for the non-foreseeable future over the years?

It's easier to do what Hydro Québec has effectively done in La Belle Province, are there not massive rivers in Northern Ontario or Manitoba or Alberta that can also be dammed?

Working with local First Nations to facilitate smooth beneficial transitions, is hydroelectric power not more reliable than nuclear, and respectfully characteristic of a sustainable future?

*I don't want to argue with the people who don't like hydroelectric power either. We're on the same side at the end of the day. Hydro Québec just makes so much more sense to me. 

Grumpy Old Men

The interminable rivalry delicately strewn with intermittent trust, effectively laidback with chaotic eruptions effacing moments of inspired tranquility. 

They grew up together as envious children and both lived their lives in the same small town, never venturing forth across the land but rather obsessing about local change.

One grew up to teach history and had a steady job for many a year, the other fixing broken down televisions at a time when that was still quite profitable.

In retirement, they quarrel and fish and keep a close eye on the slumbering block, their children stopping by to visit at times with vivid success stories and marital dilemmas.

Compulsively nickling and diming they dynamically forge economic blockades, the intricate precise observant conversation correspondingly generated with grouchy gusto.

When a beautiful belle aging in years suddenly moves in across the street.

With new ideas and jaunty bold reckonings.

Seeking companionship. 

Vehement magnitude.

I wonder how Grumpy Old Men has viscerally aged for the last thirty years, is it still talked about in film-loving circles or has it faded with the passage of time?

It was incredibly popular in the early '90s when it first came out, since it showcased well-known cantankerous belovéd old school household names.

Walter Matthau and Jack Lemmon had brilliantly dazzled for many a year, especially in a well-regarded film my father loved known as The Odd Couple.

It's younger audience had aged since then and was in their twilight years when Grumpy Old Men came out, a brilliant bit of industrious casting also to be found in the Terminator films.

They deliver the curmudgeony goods and directly excel at provoking one another, with agile learnéd indelicate remonstrance wildly engaging in diligent bemusement. 

Are these films really just the subject of history choosing which films to watch is different these days?, with Netflix etc. eclipsing television the old school references may be somewhat archaic.

But information is available online for the curious film buff looking to learn more.

We didn't have Wikipedia thirty years ago.

Academically complemented with online encyclopedias. 

Dune

It's a shame Dune ended up being a negative experience for David Lynch. Some of it's very well done. I still love watching it year after year.

Some of the heavier action sequences like when the Harkonnens attack Arrakis or the sandworm battle at the end, don't fare as well as those that you find in Star Wars or Star Trek, and a lot of movie goers tend to focus on those transitions which are often filled with nail-biting excitement.

It would be nice to watch a copy without the consistent inner-character monologues as well, too bad it wasn't as huge as Blade Runner and such an alternative was never released.

Nonetheless, in classic Lynchean style the scenes with the villains still seriously impress, especially the introduction of the Harkonnens which I would argue is some of Lynch's best work.

It's grotesque and terrifying and over-the-top and the attention to detail is so immaculate, along with the chilling production design all focused around Kenneth McMillan's performance. 

I've seen him show up in other films where he didn't have a serious role, in Dune he steals the show though, alongside many prominent actors.

Lynch also thrillingly excelled with his less psychotic sublime nobility, notably during the scenes with Dr. Kynes when they head out to look over spice production. 

When Duke Leto demonstrates that he truly cares for the integral lives of his working people, it's a powerful moment that evocatively captures the democratic spirit of the times.

Kyle MacLachlan has his moments too as does Patrick Stewart, Siân Phillips, Francesca Annis, and Brad Dourif, in interviews I've seen with actors Lynch worked with the genuine admiration clearly shines through.

If you want to see Lynch the editor at work you should compare the theatrical version to the full-length feature, the excessively long studio-cut version that he had his name removed from.

It is much much much worse and you can see Lynch's genius in full swing, when you watch his director's cut and see how he saved so many scenes.

With strong performances, a complex plot, an intricate unique production design, along with his trademark wicked villainy, Lynch's version still impresses.

Denis Villeneuve's films are remarkably well done too and I hope he gets the next Star Wars franchise.

I hope they stick with one director for the entire run.

He's a contemporary sci-fi master. 

Star Trek: Generations

I wonder how those old shows that I grew up watching every day, for so many years of my life, are currently regarded by the viewing public.

No doubt the manifest enthusiasm ebbs and flows from realm to juridiction, and even within open-minded circles trends and novelties come and go.

Without conducting a Foucauldian investigation I imagine interest is still strong nevertheless, and I recall seeing The Original Series trending on Netflix less than 5 years ago.

It doesn't age, especially after you stop watching TV for years and then one day find yourself sitting down to watch an episode, the VHS copy you recently found at a thrift store in far reaching wholesome working condition.

It was a Next Generation cassette and humbly featured Jean-Luc Picard, whose leadership style wholeheartedly disseminates a virtuous contradiction to Trump.

He listens closely to what others are saying and sincerely values their opinions, and looks forward to fair negotiations that treat different parties with mutual respect.

He's as anti-Trump as they come and a solid example for leaders to follow, the show's called Star Trek: The Next Generation, and it presents administrators who aren't buffoons.

But back in the day, The Original Series generally ruled the cultural roost, and was usually regarded as the cherished frontrunner when it came to comparisons between the series.

People were therefore uncertain how The Next Generation films would do, having to follow the trusted footsteps of the original widespread broadcast sensation. 

In hindsight, The Original Series showcases potentially timeless episodes, that I still love to watch every 5 years or so, unlike so much old school television.

It was cancelled early though perhaps dues to the interracial kiss, and religious criticisms of a popular world so far beyond rigid biblical discipline.

The Next Generation had a longer run and was able to do a lot more consequently.

So many clever intricate storylines.

I can't believe they didn't make more films.

It's tempting to just watch the movies because watching movies is always tempting, but try to save Star Trek: Generations until you've watched The Original Series, the first six Star Trek films, and the entire Next Generation run.

You'll appreciate Kirk meeting Picard so much more if this is the course you follow.

It's not as bad as some critics claim.

There are some issues (how can you just leave the Nexus and physically go anywhere you want in time for instance?).

But it's still really cool year after year. 

Enemy Mine

Intergalactic war brings devastation as bellicose covetous cultures clash, the freeform colonization of space demanding macroscopic invention. 

They're both after the same fertile regions and generally ill-suited to interplanetary diplomacy, consistently engaging in heated space battles to indelicately bridge the chaotic gap.

A spirited soldier from Earth is passionately incensed after his friend is obliterated, and skilfully tracks the offending aggressor into the atmosphere of a barren planet.

A sudden wayward miscalculation and both pilots soon find themselves lost and stranded, still at disputatious odds but willing to work together to facilitate survival. 

Thus, as happens so often, when the grandiose flare for jingoism fades, the courageous troops who do most of the fighting habitually find they have lots in common.

Without the speeches and the advertising and the rhetoric the manufactured hatred gives way to reason, and rival soldiers find common ground from which to build a working conzensus.

Communication remains difficult as the brave warriors seek stable shelter and food, both languages sharing no logical links they're starting from scratch with sounds and visuals.

They aren't that gifted linguistically but they quickly make up for it with determined gusto, and since they have a lot of time on their hands they're able to learn to efficiently speak.

Learning a new language in the beginning can be disheartening because there are so many new words, not a hundred or five-hundred or a thousand but several thousand to be effectively mastered.

Many of these words often have different forms so learning one is like learning two or three, and one word often has more than one meaning so you have to learn different definitions for different contexts.

Remain calm.

Don't let it get to you.

Be patient and kind.

People will help you.

And take note of your surroundings, you may encounter many people who don't read Dickens, but they can still speak solid working English and reasonably discuss multiple subjects.

Remember, if they can do so in English eventually you should be able to do the same in their language.

Rome wasn't built in a day.

Acquire new vocabulary.

Use it in conversation. 

Virtuosity

It's fun to watch old films from the '90s which theorized this and that about the future of the internet, I can't say if they're that different from today's, COVID and freetime cut me off from contemporary cinema. 

In ye olde Virtuosity lifelike programs are made to live in virtual reality, and one escapes from the cyberspatial realm to siliconically exist in the real world.

The question is, is that possible and if so could it prove the existence of spirit, as ethereally applied to divine orchestrations awkwardly attuned to in/organic life?

If we are building new worlds within which cyberconsciousnesses exist, do they wonder about other dimensions as they fictionally cascade?

Like whales hypothesizing if they can exist with the agile gods above on land, do cybercharacters in virtual environments see our dominion like we imagine heaven?

The codes to life the byzantine genes the duplication of which produce cloned lifeforms, facilitating existence with frank-in-sense as a working model through lithe conception.

If our ability to create cyberworlds suggest we also exist in a cyberworld, and that its building blocks can be scientifically decoded with enticing mathematical precision, does the ability to travel interdimensionally not emphatically invoke potential, having decoded our specific world, and built another, could we not transmutate? 

The key would be to build the bridge between a cyberworld and our own, to find the code that could vivaciously manifest virtual spirit in physical confines (like they do in Virtuosity).

If a way was found to transfer consciousness or animate lifeforces into virtual realms, or bring cyberlifeforms into our world it would suggest we could move on up.

In other words, by transforming a human consciousness into cyberspace and giving it life within that realm, and then bringing it back safely into our own to rematerialize, we could theoretically dissect the codes of our existence, find out how they're built, and contact heaven.

But would we be like the beached whale alone and isolated and unable to move?

And would the gods attempt to shove us back?

Until we could make a more traditional connection.

Not the kind of project to volunteer for unless there are millions in compensation for your family.

Should you wind up in the void forever.

Substantially meaningless, intangibly sound. 

Ferris Bueller's Day Off

The incorrigible urge the inexhaustible dilemmas audaciously fuelling insurmountable daring, as reflexively situated albeit within imaginative unorthodox compelling gambits.

A day off school intuitively organized with intricate planning and demonstrative skill, mom and dad effectively falling for the ornate scheme with adorable generous loving compassion.

What to do with a full day off while others work and study and research, it's no doubt time to hit the town with creative friends and a wild agenda?!

Word spreads of the distressing illness and communal sympathy encouragingly erupts, as the sights and sounds of versatile Chicago fill a day's fortunes with laidback exception.

But the administration adamantly refuses to obligingly believe the open-minded story, and sets out on a mad concentrated obsessed unyielding quest to locate the lad.

His sister also remains furious after their admiring parents react empathetically.

Emancipated vision.

Holistic embrace.

Freeform lackadaisics. 

Festive revelry.

This was my favourite of the John Hughes films so widely popular in my youth, the nutso envisioning of rebellious fluency exceedingly inclined to diligently chill.

The first 30 minutes are an imaginative treat as Hughes skilfully plays with different narrative styles, and commandingly showcases alternative techniques which are highly advanced and correspondingly influential.

Critics of the time were rather dismissive and I didn't figure out why until I hit my late thirties, but my youthful admiration won out in the end as I dismissed my uptight less-mesmerized evaluations (Rooney goes way too far, it's tough to believe an academic would behave that way).

Matthew Broderick delivers the performance of a lifetime and charismatically shines in the title role, Alan Ruck also memorably concocting they both still show up in movies 40 years later.

Mia Sara, Jennifer Grey, Edie McClurg, and Jeffrey Jones impress as well. 

Much more than just kids skipping school.

A unique exhilarating celebration of life!

Crossworlds

Another time, a different ethos effectively guiding and teaching and nurturing, instructive discernment generating calculi, directly concerned with democratic birth.

Thus the narrative examines the oft critiqued discourse of the many, and the general difficulties at times arising from forming multilateral conzensai.

The inherent feuding the passionate conceptions the multiple viewpoints the limited time, can negatively affect a progressive agenda when animately called to efficiently govern.

How to collectively prioritize specific criteria for implementation, when immaculate difference innately illuminates sundry equitable alternative possibilities?

Fortunately, at reasonable times the definitive trust placed in a leadership team, resiliently results in universal action widely supported by different groups.

Hence Jagmeet Singh and Justin Trudeau were able to accomplish so much with limited time, and improve the lives of millions of Canadians with anti-scab legislation and accessible dentistry. 

But times changed and the spectrum shifted much more to the right and disaster loomed, at which point the Liberals found a more conservative leader who still demonstrated heart at the end of the day (political brilliance).

Thankfully it worked in Canada and the authoritarian impulse was rebuked, the doctrine of manifold conflicting agendas resolutely upheld for another mandate.

Perhaps it seems chaotic to some when a more streamlined agenda is delineated, and the substantial interests of a smaller segment of a robust population are widely transmitted.

But, as Spock points out, do the needs of the many not collectively outweigh, those of the diligent few who can't generally agree with less fanatical hardline dictates. 

Crossworlds doesn't present a superhero to intriguingly uphold its democratic thrust, a constructive studious no-nonsense human is collaboratively chosen to contend instead.

To confront the imperial forces seeking to see dynamic worlds enslaved.

Like the subway riders in The Darkest Hour.

Courageously endowed.

Formidably resolved. 

Malone

Endurance.

Strength.

Confidence.

Reliability.

The airtight Malone sees the introduction of a hard-boiled trusted dependable soldier, who's worked covert operations for many a year and finally decided it's time to retire.

But it's a job you can't walk away from he knows too much and is much too valuable, his old school no-nonsense management team unwilling to simply let him go.

He's been in the service for decades and has finally started to find murder distasteful, even if he's taking out scurrilous atrocities he's no longer thrilled to surgically discombobulate. 

Unfortunately his car breaks down in a beautiful small town as he tries to disappear, a town which is slowly being bought up by a jingoistic millionaire with fascist dreams.

The people were initially glad when he arrived because they thought he would reopen the mine, but after he pushed so many off their land grand disillusion distressingly set in.

Malone just tries to peacefully exist but the plutocrat's goons try to push him around.

Even after they realize they're far outmatched.

Bring on the classic 1980s ending.

Malone offers an entertaining case study in different conceptions of the man's man, the one brutal and monopolizing, the other fierce but kind at heart.

With good intentions, the well-meaning man seeks integration within his community, and to peacefully exist alongside others generally seeking communal development.

He's confident and trustworthy but can still be hurt if caught off guard, diligent and steady, rigorous and bold, but not full-on invincible.

Thought to potentially be a huge dickhole by people worried he'll seek absolute control, but more attuned to mutual cooperation and the democratic rights of the individual.

Not such a bad ideal to live up to if you ever consider tempestuous codes.

A cool old school traditional action film.

Modest and endearing.

Inherently wild.

Zeus & Roxanne

A family's adventurous dog boldly sets out to discover the neighbourhood, spending time at the calm peaceful beach and chasing cats should they manifest themselves.

His owners take the arts seriously and spend most of their free time engaged, dad writing songs for commercial media while his son photographs whatever he can.

They're vacationing in a rented house across the laidback street from a marine biologist, who's trying to encourage a domesticated dolphin to cohesively rejoin a wild pod at sea.

The dog mischievously follows her one day and even boards her seafaring vessel, where that very same convalescing dolphin serendipitously takes a shine to his daring.

They become friends and their innocent curiosity freely demonstrates interspecies communication, the marine biologist's related grant proposal hoping to study the compelling phenomenon. 

But will dolphin and dog also lay the foundation for a long-lasting humanoid relationship?

Arts & Science zoologically orchestrating.

The chillaxed romantic life.

Animals clearly have built in recognition and know when they're interacting with other members of the same species, and they do so without mirrors or schools it's fruitfully learned in the forest or valley.

They also largely stick to themselves although you see modest interspecies contact at times, notably when food is abundant and everyone's relaxed and less stressed accordingly. 

On the African savannah wildebeest, zebras, water buffalo and gazelles, broadly mingle and affably interact as the seasons change and the migration flows for instance.

I firmly believe interspecies communication is possible under the right accommodating conditions, if the animals are brought up together as babies in a loving environment with lots of food.

Even cats and dogs perhaps seals and penguins can learn to trust one another under such circumstances, as my pet bunny and his friend the guinea pig learned to do so many years ago.

This strategy will likely work more effectively when less testosterone is worked into the mix.

Wild bulls so likely to struggle and fight.

Like the rabbit my dad threw over the fence when I was a child (he was a really mean bunny). 

The Milagro Beanfield War

Competing interests divergently envision the possible future of a rural town, one striving to see the local populace flourish, the other secretly leaving them behind.

A family man hardworking and fed up decides to irrigate his land with forbidden water, suddenly changing the fortunes of the town as the impoverished people line up behind him.

The water had been reallocated for the lavish construction of a new land development, many residents having already sold out to the vested interests and swiftly left.

So many people don't want to leave though and dig in deep to defend their rights, seeking employment and inclusive strategies which sincerely enable lifelong habitation. 

They're old friends and newfound companions who have already found where they want to live, there's no desire to pick up and go to a different town and then start over.

Why not find steady jobs for them and dynamically include them in strategic plans, finding a place for schools and hospitals the next generation of crafty citizens?

Those kinds of leaders deserve respect the ones who genuinely care for the people of their town, and holistically look far ahead to a future that substantially includes them and their families.

The Milagro Beanfield War offers a crash course in multilateral civil conflict (there's even a sociologist), when the interests of struggling people are smugly dismissed with hard-hearted unconcern.

A former lawyer who became a journalist attempts to lead them even though he's jaded, a determined feisty knowledgeable mechanic consistently encouraging his strict resolve.

Imagine cutting off the water supply from impoverished farmers trying to feed their families, it's a bona fide human rights disaster so often ignored with lofty disgrace.

The well-financed powers-that-be are hoping they'll ignore the distressing changes, and won't exercise their democratic rights to firmly hold onto their courageous town.

Mutual respect for the townspeople and the developers can lead to sustainable economic interests, if people aren't trying to cheat one another and honestly agree to progressively work together.

Too bad so much of everything is inefficiently structured along distrustful lines, conversation, books, the cinema, religious differences, shopping, the news. 

There are times when things are less bitter and collective involvement leads to great change.

Like public schools and universal healthcare.

Democratic governments. 

Universal dynamism. 

All the Little Animals

The loss of a loved one lugubriously leads to a new set of rigid familial schematics, and whereas his mother was kind and generous, Bobby's intimidating step-father's acrimonious.

He hurt his head as a child and grew up differently thereinafter, homeschooled in isolation yet still loving and chill and fond.

Not very worldly indeed and wholeheartedly despairing of mature procedures, with hardly any of the requisite knowledge temperamentally toned through objective realism.

His step-father wants his share of the business and all he really knows is not to sign anything, dear old dad threatening a secluded lifetime in a mental institution if he doesn't play ball.

He makes an awkward break for it and soon finds himself hitchhiking across the country, with Cornwall as his destination without any money or clothes or friends.

Yet fate lends a gentle hand after he escapes a life-threatening situation, and meets an eccentric lonesome wanderer who delicately spends his free time administering.

Not a business or office or government but the deceased animals found throughout the countryside.

Whom he gingerly finds and buries.

As he comes across them in his travels. 

Logic and reason and management and consequence take on alternative hues in All the Little Animals, where the most unlikely of protagonists exceedingly champion magnanimous essentials.

There's no doubt that life in all its forms deserves to flourish for the time it's given, but it's not that often you discover the cinema courageously celebrating badgers and moths.

It's not a children's film although they may find it quite endearing, it resolutely adores all animal life and was even made in animal-hating Britain.

I'm even trying not to step on the shoots enthusiastically sprouting from the ground at the moment, hoping not to prevent the dynamic emergence of blooming nimble evergreen plant life.

Inasmuch as I've never seen anything like All the Little Animals before, I have to admit to remaining spellbound regarding its altruistic import.

It's like David Suzuki or David Attenborough asked one of their grandchildren to write a movie.

And somehow it actually got commercially made.

With a stellar cast.

Love for books and animals. 

*I mean to say that it's incredible that this film was made and it would be great if there were more films like it.

**There must be many British people who like animals, all I know is bears went extinct there thousands of years ago (according to Google and a Bears book I read years ago). 

***Islands. 

Major League

The atypical gathering of eclectic characters subliminally motivating awestruck change, through random fluid mismatched architectures cohesively drawn and effervescently flexible.

It must be peculiar to sit back and watch as new agile team members come and go every year, wondering how they'll fit together in what's known as a unit out on the field-court-ice-or-diamond.

With moving parts and composite challenge the nimble athletic remodelling calibrates, edgy solemn yet energetic magnetism definitively nuanced in shifting vortex.

An organic balance fluctuates and fades before vital rebirth augments and accentuates, a mild hiccup a streak a slump a reinvigoration freely generating distance.

How to stay focused and lithe and playful week after week and month after month, routine exception high-stakes expenditures structural discipline emphatic renaissance. 

How to guide a union of adults all too familiar with speeches and pep-talks, who have heard every motivational strategy ever conceived from one match to the next.

How not to be weighed down by observations effectively emerging as time swiftly passes, which lead to malleable conclusions and definitive inexactitude diabolically speaking.

The media once widely limited to newspapers and critical televisual broadcasts, efficiently delivered by educated professionals widely recognized for knowledgeable accuracy. 

Now with the rise of social media excessive vitriol immediately spreads, and chaotically drives mad counterintuitive visions ingenuously improvised and ephemerally splayed.

Yet the team disputatiously endures and genuinely proceeds with inherent daring, as line-ups embrace wondrous orchestrations wildly testing alternative points of view.

Remarkable unexpected achievements boldly illustrating upbeat courage, the surprise substitution line-up modifications trending exciting unprecedented change.

Anticipating the unexpected.

Highlighting the trusted novelty.

Serendipitous schematics. 

Andromeda naysay epsilon.

Must be tough making a living in sports.

Good thing it's known to pay quite well. 

At times.

Galaxy Quest

The jaded cast of a sci-fi hit grow tired and weary of the sideshow circuit, depressing thoughts of theatrical authenticity clouding their chillaxed better judgment. 

It's a routine life filled with fame and fortune but it's not Olivier or Brando's bag, still playful and adored and loved and cherished but lacking awestruck critical acclaim.

The leader and sincerely-most-loved isn't as gloomy as the rest of the cast, and still seems to love the antiquated spotlight with as much vibrant gusto as when the show was running.

The others regard him contemptuously as he struts and frets and jives and exclaims, while he tries to bring them together as he once did upon the show.

When out of the blue, an alien species applaudingly arrives to seek their aid, a devious and degenerate ruthless alien threatening the safety of their realm.

They've modelled their entire culture on the dynamics of the show, and even built a working space vessel that can swiftly travel throughout the galaxy.

The noted leader generously agrees to help them out in their hour of need, but doesn't understand that it's actually happening that he's definitively become the objective leader. 

And after realizing that the aliens indeed seek their trusted homegrown knowledge.

The whole crew embarks to lend a hand through awkward yet genuine improvisation.

Obviously if you star in a television show you shouldn't have to play the same role in real life, to effectively feel a sense of accomplishment regarding your heartfelt cinematic endeavours. 

Some of these shows may seem ridiculous but they do still influence hearts and minds, the computer on the Starship Enterprise often anticipating contemporary life.

There's a spectrum that fluctuates and bends that can help out at dismal times, or provide a concise working model for upbeat psychological construction.

0-35% of the population seeks life free of management and structure, and tries to influence accordingly while rules change and regulations shift. 

35-65% of the population lives firmly in the middle, accepting that education isn't everything but certainly helps out a lot of the time.

65-100% of the population doesn't seek the input of others, and tries to manage everything from the top often with devastating effects.

If you find yourself in the 35-65% of the population who curiously listens to both sides, and brokers deals between workers and management you're likely enjoying an active life.

You're not enthusiastically ignoring a wide segment of the population, and likely enjoy the show you once starred in should you find yourself within such a situation.

This does seem to be where Canada's Liberal Party resides, and that's why they win so many elections or at least consistently do quite well. 

Managed by industry leaders like Mark Carney hopefully supported by Alexandre Boulerice, we could become an energy superpower that pays well (I'm looking at you hydroelectric power in Northern Ontario, Manitoba, . . . ), and stalwartly tread wild shifting waters. 

Midnight Run

A mischievous moneyman suddenly flees with 15 million in cold hard cash, his life in serious objective danger as he's hunted by the mob.

He's also swashbucklingly jumped the generous bail that was put up for him, the furious cash poor unscrupulous bailbondsman hiring a bounty hunter to track him down.

The FBI also need him as a witness to put the ruthless mob boss behind burnished bars, and want the bounty hunter to securely help them in the strident pursuit of the creative malcontent.

The mob offer the sought after bounty hunter an enormous sum to hand him over, but he stubbornly refuses and makes his way risk-fuelled and daring.

The baidbondsman loses faith in his trusted man when he loses contact, and hires another bounty hunter to track him down as he makes his way across the U.S.

As to be unexpected the crafty numbers man turns out to be kind, not an exacting cold hamstrung blank but more of an uncle you see every birthday.

As time passes and the various interests slowly converge with restrained excitement, the somewhat brutal hard-hearted ex-cop has to admit he likes his quarry.

But let him loose and suddenly lose all that sought after quick-easy money?

His conscience battling sundry surmises.

As the journey bivouacs and gesticulates.

Intricate and inherently misleading the expedient Midnight Run diabolically proceeds, to obdurately search for a subjective answer to conflicting dilemmas interminably flounced.

With classic hardboiled streetwise dialogue the gritty script garners grizzly accolades, as the frustrated opponents blindly contend in an opaque contest fading and shifting.

If you were ever curious about Charles Grodin it's one of his more interesting films, he steals scenes and emphatically impresses as the conscientious bold endearing number cruncher.

Robert de Niro impresses as well as the hesitant once highly-decorated cop, who had to reluctantly find alternative employment due to endemic corruption on the force.

The action's constant in consistent flux as the myriad characters awkwardly engage, like a searing rough dishevelled carnival tempestuously twitching and chaotically toned.

With the old school focus on multiple characters conditionally respected within the script, given ample room to bombastically express themselves as the mayhem cacophonously resonates. 

Should it be classified as Film Noir, there's no femme fatale but the bounty hunter's unlucky, and it's certainly grim and lowdown but not without intricate style and dignity. 

High stakes storytelling nevertheless thrillingly occupying dissonant thresholds.

Lugubrious chivalry, delirious flux.

Skilfully shorn.

Not just another cop film.

*Yaphet Kotto's good too. 

Yearning

 *Spolier Alert

A dedicated daughter-in-law spends her life managing her new family's business, her intricate savvy and reflexive know-how having saved it from ruin during World War II.

Her husband passed in the war though and she sadly never married again, although she honourably cherishes his memory with devout respect and wholesome dignity. 

A new supermarket opens in town and starts undercutting their trusted prices, leaving her in-laws in a difficult spot which they need to manage with nimble moxy. 

It's decided to expand the business and boldly open a much larger store, but the loyal intuitive multifaceted manager is initially denied a leading role. 

It's thought that she should remarry and a suitable candidate is wisely chosen, 17.5 years having gone by since her husband passed, the idea perhaps not that socially awkward.

But she refuses out of heartfelt devotion and eventually decides to return to her home.

But not before she distressingly discovers.

That her deceased husband's younger brother is madly in love with her.

The ending's a brilliant illustration of the conflicting post-war attitudes in volatile Japan, the younger less rigid experimental viewpoints and the older more orthodox sociocultural rules. 

Reiko has to admit that she has feelings for Koji and that she's felt amazing since she learned of his passion, yet still feels determinably duty bound to her old husband's stately ultimate sacrifice. 

She's also much older than Koji and it's a bit weird marrying two brothers from the same family, but that doesn't mean she isn't tempted to continue living in the world she's created.

Unfortunately, while travelling home Koji follows her upon the train, and in their confusion they depart somewhat early and get a hotel just to think for the night.

Koji goes for a walk after another heated argument morosely breaks down, and gets too close to a haunting cliff's edge and earth-shatteringly falls to his unrequited end.

But is the film condemning Koji for having tried to break with the old conservative ways?

Or modest Reiko for not having embraced the newfound less severe liberal ideology?

It's classic obscured ambiguity which likely still generates debate amongst film fans.

A genuine tragedy embroiled in conflict.

Much too serious or excessively light. 

Strange Brew

A TV show is granted to two playful brothers who take rest and relaxation beyond excessive limits, their habitual shenanigans still sincerely amusing and able to please a critical crowd.

They're tasked with creating a film which they proceed to do without much of a budget, or crew or script or plan they're loving fans are none too impressed.

Out of beer and without any money, they concoct a plan to trick the Beer Store, a mouse in a bottle furiously exchanged for serendipitous suds should things go well.

The irritated staff has no patience however and quickly sends them to the brewery, where they try the same scam without success yet somehow manage to secure new jobs.

Their friendly nature genuinely endears them to the cheerful staff once they're introduced, while their carefree mindsets accidentally ensure they wander at random throughout the brewery.

Where they eventually discover the Brewmeister's mad and intends to addict the world to his despotic lager.

A mind control drug having been infused.

Within a fresh batch headed for Oktoberfest. 

A different age, a less serious time, when alternative narratives found lithe animation, their absurd ideas not meant to cultivate political movements or autocratic agendas.

Rather ridiculous heroes were meant to outwit much more maniacal foes, and celebrate sloth and gluttony through lackadaisical nimble networks. 

Who would have thought that the people at Fox would see such narrative strategies as political gold, and effectively use them to convince the public that candidates like Trump were closet geniuses?

For decades they catered to audiences who preferred characters who didn't excel, or even moderately comprehend good governance instead they never stopped behaving like children.

And Trump emerged in the televisual vortex to provide these people with a Fox Network candidate, not someone who wanted to improve things but instead a self-obsessed vainglorious madman.

I don't deny finding these characters funny when ludicrously situated within a sitcom, but to see them unleashed as leaders of the free world is far too dangerous and full-on insane. 

Sigh.

That's why the people who should love me hate me and why those who shouldn't secretly adore me.

Too complicated for blunt storytelling.

Which for some reason holds American sway.  

The Suitor

A young bachelor eccentrically lives the imaginative life of the daydreaming mind, and sees no need to embrace the rituals generally distinguishing adult life.

His books and posters and music and films are artistically preferable to in-depth discussions, and inspire less quotidian materialistic dialogues throughout the idle instructional day.

But his parents see a difficult future for their adored son if he doesn't marry, and adamantly encourage him to seek relationships and stop obsessing about pop music.

Unfortunately, he's constructively lived most of his life at play in his room, and has no idea how to talk to others or indeed even start a conversation.

A series of awkward random shenanigans mischievously and haphazardly ensure, but nothing compares to the stunning stars he routinely sees on television.

He often proposes to the striking tenant who rents a room downstairs in his house, but she can't understand a word he's saying and they remain linguistically divided.

In a last ditch effort he seeks to meet his heart's desire, a famous singer.

Working his way in behind the scenes.

To his grand existential disillusionment. 

You don't see this subject taken seriously in that many sympathetic feature length films, the sequestered perennial youth at habitual odds with relational maturity.

But rather than lump him in with wild lunatics which at times happens in such scenarios, a way is found to compassionately showcase his alternative manners and social expressions.

The behaviour isn't vilified there's sympathy for the amorous non-conformist, a comic account much more conducive to eventual communal integration. 

I suppose I've never investigated how often this type of narrative shows up in film, I just know I rarely see it and have only really heard it mentioned in British pop songs. 

I'm therefore quite impressed with Pierre Étaix's lighthearted cinematic début. 

Not as elaborate as the versatile Yoyo.

Still sewing the seeds of daring exhibition. 

Jacquot de Nantes

A young experimental film enthusiast concentrates on vivid storytelling, having instantaneously been mesmerized by the first live puppet show he went to see.

Growing up in Nantes in France with loving parents in a lively neighbourhood, his imagination roamed far and wide while often focused on the cinema.

Family life embraced the trades since his father owned a bustling garage, and wanted his son to become a mechanic and learn his catechism and keep things real.

Little Jacquot hesitantly obliged since he wasn't as rebellious as some, but still worked on creative independent films alone at night in their humble attic.

His mother and father had to admit that he had real talent when he showcased his films, every meticulous minuscule detail having been delicately crafted.

World War II breaks out and the family is briefly torn apart, dad working in a shell-factory by day, the children moving to the countryside at times.

But Jacquot never stops creating nor watching films with heartfelt awe.

Eventually directing agile tales. 

As part of the French New Wave.

Jacquot de Nantes proceeds with loving candour as it romantically illustrates its subject, dynamically directed by Jacque's wife the incredibly talented Agnès Varda.

She carefully links his active childhood with laidback material from his films, first imagining how the moments might have taken place before showing them depicted on the silver screen. 

Jacques Démy himself also comments to add more depth to the bold filmography, his poignant insights generating layers of intricate exuberant narrative detail.

Captivating to see a sincere exhibition of a thoughtful artist and his breathtaking work, lovingly shot by another auteur who genuinely loved him with innocent tenderness.

I've never seen one of his films which is a shortcoming I'll have to remedy. 

Such knowledge.

Such wild inspiration. 

Peacefully blossoming.

Limitless and free.