Unrueh (Unrest)

I've never spent much time considering anarchy as it's peacefully presented in Cyril Schäublin's Unrueh (Unrest), which looks at the coordination of semi-autonomous towns loosely connected in 19th century Switzerland.

At the time I speculatively imagine the old world stiff upper lip still strictly predominated, and many citizens were highly critical of the unyielding nature of cold absolutes (how could such a disastrous political outlook be experiencing a necrorenaissance?). 

Important things such as healthcare and education perhaps freely benefit from mass organization, not in the sense that you teach everyone the same thing, but inasmuch as you generally apply the same provincial standards.

Global networks of hospitals and international research can ensure progressive care is universally adopted, to treat the sick and combat disease to medicinally facilitate widespread health and wellness.

The application of such organization to the arts seems counterproductive in my opinion, however, since originality and novel spectrums often emerge in isolation.

Not that there shouldn't be dialogues amongst different uncanny artistic communities, I just don't believe in the codification of molecular alternative expression.

Thus, anarchy works well for artists not in the sense that they ubiquitously rebel (some rebellion works though), but rather to promote eclectic independence amongst individuals who could probably care less.

A lot of material is released every year and no doubt trends and patterns emerge, but the overarching mass cultivation of a specific outlook seems much too totalitarian to me.

Medicine prospers with codes and procedures to guide its workers as they care for the sick, education also benefits from structure to ensure people learn to read and write and count.

But the arts benefit from spontaneity and revelation and inspiration and chance, not that those things can't influence medicine and teaching, but if they're the governing impetus, you may unleash a pandemic.

Pandemics in the arts can be good since books that are fun to read should be widely discussed, they don't necessarily have to be a dangerous thing, although there's always bound to be critical controversy.

Oddly, as I've aged I've learned to incorporate anarchy into my life, I'm not even really that disappointed with things, my love for independent cinema and literature just keeps growing and growing.

It's a right wing strategy to make politics so unappealing that people prefer to generally ignore them.

So I'm still paying attention as best I can.

Although I fear I may have outgrown journalism.

Not The Guardian though. 

Definitely not campy films.  

Cane Toads: The Conquest

The old invasive species tale creatively told once and again, this time a' flourishin' down under, with a fresh democratic imaginative take.

Know then that grubs were destroying Australia's versatile sugar cane crops, so they sought an efficient way to stop them, and subsequently introduced a non-native toad to their robust environment, with the unabashed dogged hopes that it would bravely devour them.

Unfortunately it didn't, and they reproduced abundantly in incredible numbers, and soon starting spreading across the continent as their natural instinct accelerated forward.

If considering whether or not they became a tasty treat for endemic wildlife, believe that their natural fluidic poisons were a problem for local beasties and pets alike.

Many communities were rather annoyed by the massive unrelenting expansion, and inaugurated ways to curtail their progress across the massive fecund land.

Others industriously capitalized on public fascination with the phenomenon, and created products and fertilizer and roadside attractions flouting the new lifeform's integrity. 

I know I would have a good time just sitting back and watching them hop by.

Australia sounds so amazing for wildlife.

The Crocodile Hunter was such a cool show.

As is Cane Toads: The Conquest, it's unlike any nature documentary I've seen, a unique twist on a fascinating genre inherently abounding with camp and craft.

It's a truly democratic account that interviews peeps from multivariable walks, without judgment or pervasive hierarchies pretentiously upsetting the creative balance.

The variety is impressive as he zigzags his way through his inclusive exploration.

If no video footage exists of the cane toad related story, director Mark Lewis engages in dramatic recreations in order to reanimate the yarn.

Perhaps not serious enough for some sterile objective puritans, or people who really don't like the toad, it's difficult to say. 

But I imagine kids and families and audiences around the world would love Cane Toads: The Conquest!

The multiple close-ups and inspired invention.

Producing bona fide unfiltered wherewithal. 

A United Kingdom

It's bizarre how something as wonderful as two people falling for each other can have so many painful consequences, and how surrounding support networks, which are also supposed to be amorously bound, can suddenly disappear after the declaration, in an appeal to what the slighted individuals oddly refer to as shame.

It seems more shameful to me to cast out a loved one for following their heart and deciding to live with/date/marry . . . the person they hold dear.

People have been writing similar things for millennia because the problem has persisted for millennia and adults often don't consult 5 year-olds for solutions to such matters, even though in such cases the youngsters often possess a much clearer understanding than the mature grown-ups scorned.

In terms of race anyways, unless their parents have corrupted them at an early age.

When Ruth Williams (Rosamund Pike) and Prince Seretse Khama (David Oyelowo) engage in Amma Asante's A United Kingdom, and then marry, their contentment is multilaterally assaulted.

The British government is relying on its South African income to stay afloat after World War II , and since Khama is the hereditary heir of what eventually becomes Botswana, the South Africans, who have just enacted apartheid, are enraged by his betrothal to a white woman.

Correspondingly, his family, who have been begrudgingly living for decades under pretentious conservative British rule, sees their marriage as an affront to African dignity, the coddling of the colonizers, and regards their happy union with contempt.

The politics of empire are obviously quite complex, and if an important revenue stream is dammed up, ways will be found to ensure it continues flowing.

Thus, Khama is blocked in his attempt to begin governing his domain as the British cut him off after his uncle (Vusi Kunene as Tshekedi Khama) betrays him.

But democratic appeals to the British and Bechuanan public generate sympathy for the controversial lovers, and a working solution begins to materialize.

A lot of unforeseen trouble for the young couple.

Who steadfastly remains harmoniously united.

A United Kingdom breaks down the best and the worst of sociopolitical matrimonial relations to champion integrity as opposed to bland disgust.

Family friendly yet bold and powerful, it romantically digs deep to forge new ground, celebrating ethical reimaginings of the political, and two tenacious nestlings, who were fortunate enough to fall in love.

Citizenfour

I always found it odd that suddenly there was this relatively free electronic network that I could use to communicate with others, read the news, shop, bank, play games, book tickets, do practically anything I wanted to do, sitting at home, using my computer.

I understand next to nothing about how it was constructed yet eventually started using it so much that I found it was an integrated inextricable part of my life, an unprecedented development, I started to think we were living in the luckiest moment in human history, and still sometimes can't believe our good fortune, although reservations began to settle in a while back.

With most of my life up online, it began to occur to me that this information could be manipulated in the wrong hands, and used for some bizarre counterproductive purpose, the likes of which never really occurs to me, I don't see why that would happen, I do watch a lot of movies though, the possibility of which still subconsciously disturbs me, however, in the background, at times.

But I figured, whatevs, I live in North America.

I'm Canadian, we have rights, a Charter of Rights and Freedoms, guarantees that you can speak freely, discuss things rationally, irrationally, criticize things as you see fit, without having to worry about being watched or going to prison.

Freedom of movement, equal opportunity, public libraries, freedoms to gather, all of these things that we didn't have hundreds of years ago but have now because previous generations fought for and created them so that our lives could be somewhat more free.

Citizenfour chronicles how the American government has access to all kinds of private information shared between electronic devices and how it can illegally use that information to potentially imprison you for speaking freely about some kind of oppressive instance which at one time would have been the subject of a riveting public debate.

There's no escaping it.

I don't see how you can stop this.

Law enforcement officials are supposed to need warrants to search your private information.

It shouldn't be available to them 24/7 because some lunatics launched the 9/11 attacks.

But it seems like that was the reason why the internet was suddenly available for free for everyone, or at least part of the explanation, giving law enforcement agencies the power to bypass constitutional rights to privacy, on Obama's watch, so that they can access a fluid, hip, integrated police state, your entire life available to the authorities, shimmering in the ether, billowing in the cloud.

Snowden's account of what can be known about someone based upon their online footprint is astounding.

Movements predicted, potential conversations held at specific points, expected patterns of behaviour, etc., I got used to the potential for this a long time ago, figuring it was a possible hazard for anyone who writes about politics, but still wish it weren't so, not an easy thing to get used to.

Snowden risked everything to expose abuses of power by the American authorities which bypass constitutional rights to privacy so that everything Americans do can be monitored and scrutinized.

He didn't just suddenly make the information available online, but worked with reporters like Glenn Greenwald to slowly reveal the truth about the illegal activities that have been sanctioned for years.

He should be welcomed back to the United States as a champion of individual and collective rights and freedoms, and we shouldn't have to wait 30 years to see this happen.

A truly exceptional individual.

What an American.

Captain America: The Winter Soldier

In/directly contextualizing striking pre-emptive phenomenons, Captain America: The Winter Soldier bravely condenses controversial polarities, from which it extracts a democratic essence, sentimentally sublime in its naiveté.

Perhaps beating Transcendence to the punch.

The issue of brilliant Nazi war criminals finding sanctuary in the United States after World War II is acknowledged, diabolical agents of HYDRA having nested themselves within S.H.I.E.L.D, whose limitless technological resources have given them free reign to menace.

They hope to take out millions of enemies in one extremely precise swoop, the ultimate pre-emptive strike, internationally derailing syndications of law and order, egregiously ignoring the global human factor.

The infiltration of S.H.I.E.L.D partially vindicates Eric Snowden and Julian Assange as their methods are proactively defended by Natasha Romanoff (Scarlett Johansson).

Radiantly representing today's youth.

The key to the relationship between these plot threads and the film's subconscious depiction of America's current identity lies in the Winter Soldier (Sebastian Stan) himself, who has no identity, who was revived to serve HYDRA and serve HYDRA alone, the memory of who he once was having been shattered into oblivion.

He is recognized by Captain America (Chris Evans), however, who is also having identity issues, yet he remembers why America (and Canada) fought during the second World War, thereby earning the trust of Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson).

Like Thor: The Dark World, Winter Soldier struggles to find itself during its first 40 minutes or so, although in this case such disappointments fit perfectly.

It's important to remember that when great actors aren't performing at the top of their game, it's okay to ask them to do additional takes.

I don't know how you'd go about doing this.

Just don't go Godard on them (see Richard Brody's Everything is Cinema: The Working Life of Jean-Luc Godard).

What follows is a thrilling politicized retrocrazed rush, Steve Rodgers outshining Themistocles, another captivating Marvel film, oh what a world what a world.

Rango

Having accidentally escaped from his comfy aquarium, the theatrical Rango (Johnny Depp) is thrust upon the real world's stage. Finding himself in the small Western town of Dirt, he must instantaneously invent a hard-boiled character and deliver a stunning performance. When challenged he doesn't back down and fate consequently hands him a thunderous climax. His reward: the job of town Sheriff. His duty: protect the people of Dirt from ne'er do wells and bring back the water. The town has been drying up and the water that used to vigorously flow has stopped delivering its revitalizing bounty. As necessity demands action and circumstances require trust, Rango mystically discovers his edge and instinctively prepares for the final countdown.

In Rango, Gore Verbinksi works within the Western tradition in order to try and democratize its black and white contours. A monopoly has been sinisterly established thereby preventing the fair and equitable distribution of wealth. A comical hero strikes back, affirming the rights of his citizens in the hopes of restoring their dignity. Aided by a shapeshifting divinity, he develops the confidence he never knew he had and learns to sublimate his fears. Unfortunately, while the basic plot attempts to champion democracy, the formal elements are conservative as they come. The lead female character (Abigail Breslin as Priscilla) is wooden and static, occasionally lapsing into comatose trances when overwhelmed, and doesn't exactly disseminate a multidimensional presence. The people are capable of understanding Rango's idiosyncratic diction but they are still portrayed as foolish and inconsequential in their attempts to do so. Rango does possess an intriguing degree of self-awareness insofar as Rango is aware that he is on a peculiar quest that is being mythologized by a musical group of owls, and from time to time the film highlights its self-referentiality (ambiguously suggesting that Rango never left his aquarium). But at sundown, the quest and story are predominantly Rango's, not the people of Dirt's, even though Rango's purpose is to save the town and provide its inhabitants with a decent standard of living. More scenes showcasing the personalities of the townsfolk would have increased the democratic value of Rango's currency ten-fold.

Traitor

Jeffrey Nachmanoff's Traitor destabilizes the phenomenon of democratic patriotism from a variety of different angles, deconstructing its boundaries while reformulating them as well. The concept of friendship is also studied within, along with what it means to have faith, and the ways in which politics can problematize one's beliefs.

Samir Horn (Don Cheadle) is a devout Muslim who saw his father blown up by a car bomb as a child. He then moved to Chicago where he was expelled from high school for throttling 3 caucasian teenagers after they spoke none to kindly to an African American girl. Afterwards, he joined the military and when we meet him he is selling arms in Yemen. He is arrested during a raid which sends him to prison where his religious integrity wins him the admiration of Omar (Saïd Taghmaoui). After their escape, they join a terrorist organization and begin planning a series of strikes against the United States. And throughout this entire period, Horn has been working as a double agent for Governmental Representative Carter (Jeff Daniels) with the hopes of capturing said terrorist organization's kingpin.

Horn is pursued by Governmental Agents Roy Clayton (Guy Pearce) and Max Archer (Neal McDonough) (who are unaware of Carter's plan). Clayton's father was a baptist minister who would douse crosses set aflame by the Klu Klux Klan. When partner Archer wonders why every Arab Muslim in the United States is not automatically profiled, Clayton reminds him that millions of Muslims aren't Arab, making the action of racial profiling, ludicrous. Clayton believes the United States represents the good guys but Horn vociferously reminds him of their own terrorist activities. Every one is searching for the good while manifold persons are unwillingly sent to Heaven.

Horn's faith is the foundation of his being and he consistently reprimands religious hypocrites who forget God's authority. The same can be said for Clayton although his devotion is not as strict. They both seek the same ends, both tailoring their pursuits with ethical designs, one forced to live the harsh realities of his political allegiances, the other living within the political imagination of his faith. In the end, the African American leaves law enforcement behind and chooses to serve God at the local level, having realized that both national militaries and terrorist organizations exploit their soldier's faith for their own economic gain. The American of European descent continues to pursue his dreams, believing he is making a difference. Omar cannot accept his exploitation, and Horn must watch as his friend dies.

Nachmanoff melodramatically and coercively uses the relationship established between Horn and Clayton to suggest that peace can be achieved if one resigns themselves to democratic ideals, while simultaneously demonstrating the contradictory barriers standing in their way. On the one hand, terrorist activity seems futile insofar as governmental agencies possess records of everything you've ever done (and employ people capable of theorizing every thing you will likely ever do), on the other, those same agencies set up terrorist acts in order to place their spies in a position wherein they are capable of arresting individuals responsible for terrorist acts (whom they cannot locate). Within this matrix, the political manifestations of ethical ambitions intermingle and coalesce, highlighting the importance of acting locally, while stating that such positions cannot be postured without first having traveled the globe.

As a suspense film, Traitor suffers in its pacing, and never leaves its audience fearfully gripping the edge of their seats. At first I thought this was Nachmanoff's stylistic slip-up, but, upon further reflection, it seems that if one is to take the suspenseful content out of a political aesthetic, then creating a film full of suspenseful content which lacks a suspenseful form, serves to destabilize the prominent subliminal formal layer of many patriotic films (Mongol for instance), and broadcasts, and suggests that national politics would be much more patriotic if they could simply stop being so dramatic.

It's a hollywood film working within the sensationalistic terrorist tradition established by the Bush Administration which manages to overtly and covertly destabilize their paranoid cultural ethos, thereby working within the diluted frame it has inherited, to reinvigorate it's democratic commitment.