We Live in Time

Temporal constraints motivating and hindering the progressive development of vigorous contemplation, the ticking-clock accentuating bold constructive split-second or strategic plans.

The resonant calm seductively sustaining positive thoughts multivariably exercised, tantalizing fruition anticipated and swathed as definitive timelines filter and structure.

The potential for limitless editing as mischievously suggested by Mr. Orson Welles, also provides lithe and tempting bearings to the infinite reimagining of spiritual studies.

The thriving possibility the interminable tantrums the heuristic horizons the enchanting escapades, demonstratively connecting interactive achievements intermittently coalesced through spontaneous reinvention.

A play's history the variety of performances exceedingly relates to unlimited mutability, the contemporary difference the hubris assumed fantastically enabling bright ahistoricity. 

We Live in Time we adapt and age as newfound challenges and developments alter, well-rounded paths and convincing philosophies economically synthesized through cultural schemata. 

We Live in Time the inherent ridiculousness of geologic masses imperceptibly duelling, inspiring romance and chaos and tragedy as biological rubrics scale and rupture.

We Live in Time the capricious seasons habitually recalling tracks and trajectories, temperate enlivened invigorated festive potentially sentimental breezes crazing.

We Live in Time emergent generations interactively communicating multifaceted alternatives, incongruously compiled in abounding treatises ephemerally delineating temperate eternity.

What a gamer, this determined Almut, who refused to yield even though she had cancer, who still competed in an incredibly demanding event even though she might suddenly die.

The forecast wasn't hopeful but she still may have lived if she had taken it easy, but if she had done so and missed out on the challenge and still passed, it would have seemed so utterly unbearable.

Cooking mind-blowing meals that one feels sincerely embarrassed to eat, like you're devouring Deutschland Café XIII perhaps while discussing the weather with someone who isn't listening.

It'd be fun to compose a poem while examining and appreciating such a meal in real-time.

A picture will have to do for now. 

Dazzling and light, endearing forays. 

Tampopo

A daring trucker, hungry after a long day on the road (Tsutomu Yamazaki as Gorô), stops in at a local ramen shop, where the other customers are somewhat hostile.

He refuses to observe their bad behaviour and soon an unfair fight begins, Gorô's courage reacting with bellicose vigour, but there are are too many determined opponents. 

But the owner takes pity on him afterwards and they soon find themselves amicably disposed, Gorô noting that her restaurant lacks appeal (Nobuko Miyamoto as Tampopo), and deciding to chill 'til he can help improve things.

They begin rigorously researching the competition to incisively scrutinize strengths and weaknesses, Gorô proving to be a good teacher, thoughtful Tampopo eager to learn.

After having focused upon various aspects of the divergent ways different people serve ramen, it's time to concentrate on the dish itself, to make something coveted, lauded, irresistible.

Fresh insights are eagerly sought and soon they've forged a constructively critical retinue, devoutly seeking sumptuous irrefutability, with avid pluck and gastronomic reserve.

Meanwhile, the world at large engages in random culinary acts.

Uncanny scenes adding cosmopolitan flavour. 

To Tampopo's free-flowing itinerant broth.

Effervescent peculiar poignancy rambunctiously distilling airtight emancipation, Tampopo proceeds according to guidelines unaffiliated with external gravity.

A world particular and personalized caught up with jocose mesmerizing self-indulgence, like so many of my favourite artistic works, it's structurally chaotic, yet imaginatively sound.

Praise for unorthodox individuals having forged convivial eclectives, well-versed in variable revelations, beyond financial or economic rubrics. 

Praise for concerned acts of kindness delicately encouraging slow and steady development, conflict erupting through holistic expansion, thereafter appeased through tact and forgiveness.

Praise for proceeding according to mood whether it be compassionate or volatile, praise for non-sequential spicy abbreviations piquantly presented in poetic overflow.

I thought the killing of a live animal went way too far and I was thoroughly disturbed afterwards.

Otherwise a unique unpredictable tale.

Abounding with full-on whatever.

*With Ken Watanabe. 

Ramen Teh

A young man, longing to prove himself, sets off from Japan to visit his mother's family in Singapore.

His father was a celebrated chef who settled in a small town to the delight of its local residents.

Widely renowned he may have been, but easy going (like my dad) he was not, and although he sought to diversify fundamentals, he never shared his knowledge with his respectful son (Takumi Saito as Masato).

After his passing, his son Masato discovers a suitcase full of memorabilia which poses a treasure trove of questions he's ill-equipped to answer.

Yet they lead him to Singapore and its own tempting culinary traditions.

Sleuthing in a foreign country, and overflowing with purposeful examination, his friendly uncle lends a hand, although he can't appease his hostile grandmother.

For his parents married against her will in the aftermath of World War II, their budding love and youthful devotion then overlooked forever after.

She can't forgive.

Even after all this time.

But Masato's full of endearing pluck.

And won't yield to the hardhearted flutter.

Dramatic family drama.

Soothed by gastronomic arts.

Ramen Teh takes one part stubborn and another openminded, blends them intergenerationally, then prepares a multifaceted feast.

The narrative generally follows a linear recipe, but there's enough scenic spice to atemporally tantalize.

It wouldn't have been easy to forgive after the war, and I can understand if some people simply won't/wouldn't.

Watch the videos, the documentaries, Schindler's List, teach yourself about how cruel and horrifying World War II really was.

It's not a humorous subject, not something to be taken lightly, not something to be romanticized, it was systematic abject terror.

Tenderly, in the war's long reaching wake, Ramen Teh uses food to harmonize different peoples.

I'd wager it's impossible to emerge from watching it without a new found respect for Asian cooking, and a strong desire to head out and try something new posthaste.

Ramen noodles for me.

Sitting back and enjoying a meal is something peoples everywhere love to do, and the simple act of enjoying food with friends and/or loved ones unconsciously unites the globe in wonder.

Ramen Teh excels at bringing people together without sermon or sentiment, through the simple act of modestly preparing something.

Compromise leads to reconciliation.

Listening promotes curiosity.

Some of the time anyways.

Some of the best of times.

Chef

Don't know what to make of Jon Favreau's Chef.

It has all the ingredients to be a great film, strong cast, relatable situation, strong characters, heartwarming familial pains, a professional individual's difficulties maintaining a sane work/life balance, artistic expression versus profit-based-strategies, cool tattoo, emphasis on resiliency, neat way to move forward, chill sophisticated artistry sustaining a team, acclimatizations to contemporary phenomenons (social networking issues), crisis, tenacity, rebirth, economic realities respected in terms of friendship, change, coming together, growth, it inspires its audience to diversify their outputs, family friendly yet not picture perfect, imbroglios, composure.

I like all of these things.

But Chef just wasn't my style.

Ah well.

The Five-Year Engagement

A couple is in love.

Their first meeting is adorable. They are living in San Francisco. One of them finds a job in small-town Michigan. They move. The other's career is resultantly set back but this is sacrificially taken in stride.  Attempts to acclimatize to small-town life are heroically made but an undeniable despondency cannot be persuasively concealed.

A break-up is imminent, the couple goes their separate ways, and new partners are found. But a kernel of love remains which new arrangements cannot disintegrate and it's possible that the two lovers will restructure their efficient and profitable means of production. With the future and age pressing in and standards of compatibility becoming less and less idealistic, a decision must be definitively made.

According to what I know about romantic comedies anyways.

The Five-Year Engagement has some funny scenes and introduces a broad range of distracting characters. Bill's (Chris Parnell) sweaters and Vaneetha's (Mindy Kaling) toast stand out and I enjoyed listening to the ideas of both Ming (Randall Park) and Tarquin (Brian Posehn).    

Individuals working in intellectual and culinary markets are juxtaposed and members from both groups are made to appear ridiculously profound.

Rather than consistently sentimentalizing the romantic love that often results in marriage, the film introduces argumentative points of combative relational diversification during the engagement, thereby instructively applying quasi-conjugal conflicts to prenuptial amicable operations while installing a degree of collaborative critical conditionals as well.

Sweet but trashy, mildly melodramatic, and pretentiously inclusive, The Five-Year Engagement offered more insightful observations and humorous interjections than I was expecting (after the film shifts to Michigan), which helped me get over the snickering directed in my direction as I entered the theatre on my own.

And if donuts have yet to be eaten, why purchase new ones? That's wasteful.