Yesterday

It's mind-blowing how many memorable songs the Beatles wrote.

In such a short span of time.

In 5 years they released Help!, Rubber Soul, Revolver, Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, Magical Mystery Tour, The Beatles (The White Album), and Abbey Road, in just 5 years they released 7 of the best albums ever recorded, albums that didn't fade with time or grow stale, 7 albums, 5 years, not to mention Let it Be or everything from their earlier years, how did they release that much high quality original material in such a short span of time?, it doesn't make sense when you consider the history of pop music, there's no other band that produced that much quality in such a short period, others have come close, but haven't achieved the same level of astonishing brilliance.

You sometimes have to wait three years for contemporary artists to release a new album, and then it isn't even that good, how long does it take talented artists to write 10 songs I ask you, how long!, how long!

It didn't take the Beatles that long, and assuming they weren't extraterrestrials posing as gifted songwriters while they let loose for a remarkably productive sojourn on Earth, the question of how they superlatively merged quality and quantity so effortlessly in such a short period, a feat that has never been duplicated although many bands have had impressive runs, makes me think they were either just the most gifted songwriters to ever fortunately meet and form a band, a group that used its fame productively, that didn't self-destruct when their popularity become overwhelming (even after they stopped touring), or that the music industry changed so much in their wake that its current makeup won't permit the release of so much monumental material due to the corresponding mass hysteria it generates, as if the goal of denying the release of brilliant material is plain and simply to manage crowds, or prevent people from wildly enjoying themselves, as if they've classified unconscious bliss, and reckoned it an unfavourable commodity.

It could be that the Beatles set the bar so high they discouraged a lot of potential songwriters from seeking genius, so many talented young people worried about being like them instead of zeroing in on their own creative selves.

But if they discouraged some, they inspired many others, who perhaps never would have insisted had they not grown up listening to them intently.

So many songs I still love listening to for what must be the millionth time.

They diversified their material with every album after the early years.

Why has there been no one else like them?

They were much stronger together than they ever were as solo acts.

Yesterday imagines a world where the Beatles never existed, but one struggling singer-songwriter (Himesh Patel as Jack Malik) still remembers all their songs.

He's an instant success when he starts playing them live and suddenly finds himself on the threshold of superstardom.

It's a feel good film blending hope and miracles to find romance through a lack there of and integrity in its most spellbinding.

I think the world'd be worse off if the Beatles never existed; they not only wrote some of the best pop music I've heard, but they also inspired so many other artists to give 'er.

The "if they had never" question doesn't make sense of course since "if they had never no one would have ever known".

I do know though, and I'm glad I've spent so much time listening to their music regardless.

Because of Ferris Bueller's Day Off no less.

My favourite album, Rubber Soul.

Damned innovative.

T2 Trainspotting

The danger.

The danger of returning 20 odd years later to material which you expertly orchestrated with fertile frenzied finesse in your youth, fans will undoubtedly be expecting equivalent degrees of athletic anguish and bricked portered benzedrine, agonizing adrenaline, hysterical heuristic harkenings, even if they've aged meanwhile, even if the characters have as well.

Godfather III, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, My Big Fat Greek Wedding 2, Everybody Wants Some!!

Star Wars Episodes I-III.

But the impulse to buck the trend must be overwhelming, to revisit old storylines, to reimagine old characters, and revitalize them alma mater.

T2 Trainspotting starts out on a depressing note.

Renton's (Ewan McGregor/Connor McIndoe/Ben Skelton) inspiring speech from the final moments of T1 hasn't exactly widgeted bourgeois effervescence, and he's downtroddenly returned home to reestablish old friendships.

The bourgeoisie has experienced sincere difficulties for the last twenty years so it isn't surprising that he's had a tough go of it.

Grievances are aired and there's a rapprochement of sorts, although Begbie (Robert Carlyle/Christopher Mullen/Daniel Smith) remains extremely hostile, and Sick Boy (Jonny Lee Miller/James McElvar/Logan Gillies) duplicitously presides.

The characters are tetrarchically divided with Renton and Spud (Ewen Bremner/Aiden Haggarty/John Bell) making up one half, Sick Boy and Begbie the other.

Spud is loveable and tragic and incapable of smoothly navigating occupational domains due to years of drug abuse, but Renton is there to help him settle down and remember the sundry positive aspects of life existing beyond narcotic addiction.

Renton and Sick Boy meet in the middle, as mutual love interest Veronika (Anjela Nedyalkova) hilariously relates in one of the film's many lively observations, but Sick Boy got the bad side of the Schwartz, and is still incorrigibly struggling.

Hence, he is better at grovelling when a local phenom (Bradley Welsh as Doyle) threatens their lives after learning that they plan to open a strip club.

His sleazy misdemeanours make him a better fit for Begbie, who escapes from prison and hides out with his frightened family (like the police wouldn't have looked there [Begbie's relationship with his son is one of the best aspects of T2]), and is just as unemployable as Spud although his joblessness is the product of excessive aggression as opposed to chillin' fireside.

Begbie is wicked, yet when he gets together with Spud a brilliant synthesis cinematically unreels, after the initial terror subsides, and the cold violent horrorshow actually considers something tender.

Like Stalin at a spontaneous unannounced small town parade wittingly kept in line with party guidelines.

Trainspotting 2 struggles early on to reestablish the narrative after so many bygone years, and there were points where I thought it should have been left alone, but, when I sit back to consider the preponderance of insightful claims and witty evaluations afterwards, not to mention its bold calculations and tantalizing cutlass, cutlasses, I have no choice but to admit that my misgivings were premature, and that I did indeed enjoy the film, although I'm not buying the soundtrack this time.

Thoughtful depth is patiently added to the four main characters in a way that aptly reflects the trials they've experienced surviving for the past twenty years.

It's grittier than an everything-worked-out tale and more subdued like middle-age.

Jaded and scorned yet cheerfully torn.

Cynical yet aspiring.

Boyle's still got it.

As do David Lynch and Mark Frost.

Trance

Establishing an historical distinction regarding old and new security precautions taken to protect precious paintings during auctions, right-off-the-bat, thereby foreshadowing both the ways in which Danny Boyle's career has progressed from Shallow Grave to Trance and its contemporary utilitarian utilization of amnesia and hypnosis, narrative tools which frequently showed up in the television shows I watched during my youth, and have possibly been used regularly since then, although I may be blowing the memory out of proportion, Trance has traditional motifs, enticements and motivations (find the painting and cash in) which are thrust into a coherent mesmerizing fugacious distillery, whose economic and romantic film noiresque reversals, complete with critical comments concerning legal structures that prevent female victims of violence from obtaining justice, fitting in relation to the recent horrific suicide of Nova Scotia's beautiful young Rehtaeh Parsons, its diversified ambient tonal modifications, young professional addiction seeks underground remedies for financial miscalculations (gambling debt) which in turn threaten the livelihoods of everyone involved, upend expected outcomes, as if Boyle is precisely aware of what you require him to elucidate, apart from the absent review of Simon's (James McAvoy) extracurricular activities, which I thought would have fit considering that he's responsible for safekeeping 25 million dollar works of art (is that how much it cost to make this film?), most likely because I just saw New World, a review which wouldn't have fit well anyways due to the dense nature of Trance's convolutions (another layer within would have made the brew too lucidly phantasmagorical), destined diagnostic discombobulating detoxification, a less analytical form of Inception, but, if they had found a way, amidst the sex and the greed and the artifice, to stick to the opening sequence more devoutly, while paying the same meticulous attention to unnecessary yet compelling details, I would have perhaps given it a rating of 9.7 instead of 9.4, which really doesn't make much difference.

127 Hours

I've never really liked survival movies with small casts set in dire circumstances. Cast Away, Open Water, Frozen, none of these films were for me. Hence, I wasn't exactly looking forward to Danny Boyle's 127 Hours even though I've loved most of his films and one day hope to purchase a related box-set. The question is: why was 127 Hours nominated for best picture at this year's Academy Awards when everyone knows precisely what is going to happen before it starts? I think the answer lies somewhere in the following. Boyle is faced with the challenge of remaining loyal to the facts while composing a thoughtful piece of entertainment. Peaks and valleys must be employed subtly to satisfy unconscious expectations and avoid sensational solicitations. This has been done. We have to have a reason to stay awake even though we know what's going to happen, thus, new material must consistently be introduced that not only holds our attention but also produces a minimal degree of curiosity. This has also been done and the scene where James Franco (Aron Ralston) pretends to be on the radio was enough to guarantee that I would watch the entire film. A symbol is also required and Ralston represents the iconic adventurous individual, working in the city throughout the week and benignly conquering nature on weekends, bold and resourceful, cheerful and helpful, working within the system but playing by his own rules whenever provided with the opportunity. What happens when nature refuses to be conquered and decides to introduce a diabolical obstacle of its own, thereby reminding the iconic individual that bold activity can also be considered rash? As time passes, the survivor's psyche must be realistically shown to be duelling with the elements while holding onto enough sanity to continue persevering, and Boyle's camera work and stoic script provocatively insulate such outcomes (script co-written by Simon Beaufoy). As these elements synthesize, we must develop genuine affection for the character to the point where his ingenuity and corresponding _______ produce an unconditioned joyful response, a cathartic release, unalloyed happiness. 127 Hours coaxed such a response from me and I don't even like these kinds of films so I can understand why it was nominated for best picture. Excellent performance from Franco as well and I thought his performances lacked depth in Sam Raimi's Spider Man films.

Slumdog Millionaire

Trainspotting's Danny Boyle's at his best in Slumdog Millionaire, a romantic tale of a virtuous individual's shot at the big time. Jamal Malik (Dev Patel, Tanah Chheda, Ayush Mahesh Khedekar) grew up in the slums where he learned the hard way how to cope with life's injustices. Full of working class grit and tenacity, Malik boldly navigates his culture's rigid social rapids and hard-boiled ethical hardships, taking lumps and lashes all the way to a miraculous appearance on "Who Wants to be a Millionaire?" His success leads to accusations of foul play and the film unreels in a series of flashbacks as the authorities harshly interrogate the legitimacy of his answers (the present requires the past to have a chance for the future). But for each and every question posed there's a personal anecdote that upholds both the veracity of his choices and the integrity of his disenfranchised education.

Malik's set up in opposition to his older brother Salim (Madhur Mittal, Ashutosh Lobo Gajiwala, Azharuddin Mohammed Ismail) who makes his way with a gun rather than his mind. In the film's ending, as Malik searches for the answer to the 20 million rupee question, Salim is shot in a bathtub full of cash, Boyle's narrative championing the individual who chose life as opposed to death to earn his living (the resolution's a little too melodramatic but whatever). However, in the end this dimension is ambiguously challenged by the unveiling of the correct answer to the question posed at the film's beginning, a challenge which problematizes his victory while simultaneously making it all the more emphatic (time, space, and the ideological chase).

Slumdog's pacing reflects the different stages of Malik's development insofar as his youth is filled with quickly moving scenes which capture life's enraptured rush and things begin to slow down as he gradually matures. An early scene poignantly points out precisely how resolute Malik is when it comes to achieving his goals as well as the enormous obstacles standing in his way. It's fun to sit back and watch as he heroically hustles and shuffles his way through life, constantly contending and coordinating with foes and friends respectively, his spirit always aware of each situation's final answer.

Sunshine

Don't know how many claustrophobic spaceship films I've seen but there's been a bunch. Possibly 12. And Danny Boyle's new feature Sunshine fits somewhere in the middle. Aboard the Icarus II, a team of astronauts have a mission to fire a payload deep into the heart of the sun. They hope this payload will generate an explosion that will reignite its dying embers, thereby saving planet Earth. During their voyage, they encounter a distress beacon from their lost predecessor, the Icarus I, and decide to investigate. Within this investigation, lies both their personal doom and their eternal salvation.

Alex Garland's script showcases some of the typical sci-fi-thriller tropes. The tight quarters cause egos to erupt, leading to fighting amongst the crew. An evil force is encountered bent on destroying their mission. Love-play is absent as the crew have more serious matters to take care of, and recreation can be found in a room which manufactures whatever its inhabitant desires. Of these traits, I was somewhat disappointed by the introduction of the evil force. The villain certainly provides the heroes with plenty of opportunity to be heroic but couldn't these traits still be effectively displayed without the presence of a bloodthirsty lunatic?

Probably not, but it would be nice to see if the filmmakers could pull it off without being either excessively mundane or trivially over-the-top. I suppose I'm searching for another 2001 but even it had its own version of a monster.

Okay, perhaps you need monsters in science fiction thrillers of one kind or another, but I still don't like the demon that inhabits Sunshine. Nonetheless, it certainly doesn't take away from the script's interesting characteristics. The crew has recourse to a special room that offers them an extremely close up encounter with the rays of the sun, and, even though none of them seem that tanned, the image can represent research or the pursuit of knowledge. The maximum percentage of brightness that a viewer can be exposed to is somewhere around 3.1%, a statistic that represents knowledge's pursuit insofar as no matter how much we learn, there are always billions of other things we'll never know, each producing their own life breathing intensity. One death scene stands out as well, where the captain surrenders to the hopelessness of his predicament and burns up with the sun (after having rescued the ship). There he stands, alone against the universe after having sacrificed himself for the sake of humanity. His situation represents the end of a committed artist's life, to me, an ending which sees that artist forced to face the beautifully horrific details of life, up close and personal.