Tokygo-Ga

Nightclub nectar enriching recreation innate entertainment dazzling alms, seductive maze labyrinthine lorbit Byzantium burnish impulsarcadence. 

Diligent lifetime ceaseless production steady centripetal narrative niche, domicidewinder conjugal cloudburst merrymaidentyne nuptial nerve.

Spacious economy hesitant movement bold captivation disciplined dogma, resilient fortitude experimentation focused creativity longitude larvae. 

Reliable crunchie consistent conversion understudy unction enveloping flick, able craftspersonship intricate angle vehement volume stoical syntax.

Inherent angst-ridden dissatisfaction fleeting obsession cataclysmic birth, Fitzcarraldo finesse herculean hubris wilderness welfare courageous dawn.

Electronic hardwired hammerstein hospice dubious dojos Pokemoonstruck-chuck, compulsive standardized addicting caution robotic revelry covert charisma. 

Unflagging wonder itinerant treatise curious roots inspiring levity, shared admiration decent distinction honest endeavours lighthearted lattice.

Stifled malignance deconstructed dommage delicate stewardship familial curation, consequent mischief storytime sentiment mysterious lullaby frenetic fables. 

Watershedwaylaid curvaceous current tidal imagination robusterbar, campy improvisation innocent divergence communal construction industrious populace. 

Octopickwicycle lion canisterlinger wolverminestronecold jellyfishmongermaine, oceanic fluid volcandid eruption sugar sweet sodelay energon cubes.

Billowing Brandywine nonchalant flow inquisitive scale meteoric concomitance, algebraic chordinance renegade fugue sharpened asymmetry cleffervescent rhythm. 

Distinguished exacting bulbluster track homme de chemin de ferreticenturion, stylistic filmmaker civil auteur urbane citizen engaged existence. 

Half to check out Tokyo some day.

Especially the food.

Wish they'd ease up on the whale hunting.

Otherwise a fascinating culture.  

Chronicle of a Summer

Happiness can be difficult to find if you spend your time consistently looking for it, questions seeking to discover if you're happy often encouraging disgruntled malaise. 

A blissful state of visceral integration can immersively flourish if unacknowledged, the conscious interrogation of the waking dream potentially producing unsettling affects. 

In the final episode of the original Twin Peaks series Marcus Aurelius is quoted, Waste no time arguing what a good man should be, be one, so the saying goes, the meticulous depth into which ethical discussions sink often generating misery, if you're not interminably disposed they can go on ad infinitum. 

Attempting to apply the morose despondency to the lighthearted nonchalance often found when working, while attempting to inspire a higher state of awareness, often gets bogged down in manifold detail, and leads to greater confusion as opposed to widespread lucidity.

Simple solutions sweetly flowing with unobtrusive easy-to-follow-messages, can lead to more lasting results as melodramatically demonstrated by advertising. 

For the people who see through the ads and constantly feel aloof and cynical, a comprehensive literary bearing with lengthier more convincing arguments may help.

If they seek the dynamic realization of their arguments in a mass restructuring of postmodern society, they may find frustration routinely abounds as they spearhead colossal change.

If they can settle for elaborate books which imaginatively delineate alternative reconstructions, without radically attempting to implement their designs, if such designs demand shocking changes to the smoothly flowing status quo, and discuss things amongst themselves, they may find peace for a time, if they aren't just indefinitely accustomed to doom and gloom.

If they attempt to implement abstract theories that even they have trouble understanding, without thinking through the startling consequences the intense remodelling is bound to have, woe may be widely disseminated as we see happening in the United States these days, where stubborn idealistic governmental impositions are obstinately ruining a once robust economy.

If only things were certain like they seemed to be earlier on in life.

The more media you consume, the more jaded.

While happiness can't be found without consuming more media.

Unless you stop thinking about it.

Go with that flow. 

The Endless Summer

Breathtaking beaches uproarious waves sensational surf convivial currents, pioneering endeavours athletic industry artistic scale efficacious spectacle. 

Engaging sector emergent market enthusiastic culture bodacious vibe, energetic boarding luminary leaflet enchanting undulation graceful trajectory.

Harmonious rig inordinate threshold lighthearted grand stand inventive variance, glistening gestures shimmering circuits reflexive griffons salubrious impulse.

Instinctive excellence courageous altitude disciplined dorsal fortuitous fins, endless exhibition inexhaustible passion equator crescent sprightly vicissitudes. 

Wilderness shade sunblasted sourdough improvised safari incessant campaign, dolphingerlimpbiscuit zebrazentropical choral reef metro inland populace.

Flippant flapjacoby's rogue vermillion upstanding wriggle circumlocution, breakdancing poise ceremonious shrug complex cohesion oceanic ride. 

Catamaramble brineheld nitrogen shuffle fugaseous flambé bbq ballast, exotic sands inquisitive audience carefreeform fantasia goo goo g joob.

Sacrosanct studies nightingale noug street car constella latent address, swirling serenity composed sedation dimpulscarlet dreams laconic lounging.

Accoalaladel convective vibrations lollipopcycle tootsie rollcall, roundabout camelotion mountains and skies xeroxbury bristles focal point Fresca. 

Watermelobalconstruct sustenance stew oracular mist counterpoised elevation, summittens smolten pinnacult swathe longitudinosoaring bytorrentulada.

Demeter descendants evergreen gaelicorns globetrotting recital multitudinous movements, compelling lifestyle exciting climes unrelenting medley versatile surf. 

Not such a bad way to live.

More cred in Canada and Québec if you stick it out threw the winter though.

Must be good for your leg muscles.

Nimble natation. 

August offseason. 

People of a Feather

Bustling brainstorm acute observation tantalized tutelage incumbent warmth, quiet excursion restive grassroots familiar faces communal camp.

Narwhal neoclassical beluga blessing bowhead breathtaking robust emergence, resident ricochet tenement tendrils lyrical loonstruck age-old-agility.

Vibrant traditions familial currents resilient routines ecological emphasis, concrete composure lithe Lithuwainfleet oceanic antiques contemporary crucible. 

Walrus vocal bohemian bearings arctic foxtrotters silky-smooth-seals, environment clasp local-candlestick-clutch tough rugged terrain isolated dimension.

Eider duck Danzigzag furnace-like feathers symbiotic cerveza pulmonastery, vivacious pluck convivial quacking ancient catharsis homeward bound.

Insulated foreground vehicular vessels shipshape subterranean flow, ecstatic elastic dainty dynastic islander daring geometric drizzle.

Latent insatiable hypnotic heptagon hippity-hopping painstaking Pluto, Dorothy daguerreotype offshore omittance burrowing plasticine shutterbug shrug.

Coy ventilation humble trajectory thoughtful behaviour patient contemplation, resonant courage capable cavalcade scientific construction brigade tectonics. 

Levitating plume atmospheric intensive elderberry wrinkle-in-tantamount-time, elective elocution democratic droving hydroelectric-heuristic-haste.

Popcornithological implicit seedling germinating hybrid synthetic somandrake, orbital thrush inquisitive oriole ambitious nuthatch formidable Blue Jays!

Solar capacity transmutable light molecular beams reservoir stake, skyrocket cymbal interplanetary musing nondescript neologism crack-of-the-bat!

Those eider ducks are hardcore.

Can't believe they winter in the arctic.

Good fortune for the hearty residents.

Cool relationship.

Coruscate clime. 

Lightning Over Water

Ajax buffer meticulous maestro productive career improvised formulae, bulletin balance loquacious lecture sculpted sympatico chill expedition.

Fatherlike fervour intricate thesbianage neophyte nestle directorial dialogue, laidback jettisongbird chillaxed churl emojingle jive priceless expenditure. 

Codagwoods curvature clever cast iron retinewtonian gossamer gravity, enjambment dangle dimple disclosure fiddlestick fetters Zorba xyloafin'.

Finicky nitro Sambuca solace infinite exacting icyclic soma, volatile matter stringent immersion local brilliance versatile flow.

Modest cobalzac cascading quantum incandescent quibble striking composure, salient swaggregateway metric inducement focalabreeze fold indifferent dazzle. 

Boundless endeavours inexhaustible energy idyllic drive counterpinpointment, inherent amusement Cherubim charm papillon panacea indefatigable glide.

Brokered enthusiasm leveraged accent cuneiform gala inscrutable swerve, barge-of-the-light-brigade buoyant bramble-onwards torrid tenacity exuberant douse.

Miraculous misthmas thunderous vertices illuminary lightning indelible storm, congenial quartermast evocative winds furtithing twister bedevilled ballast. 

Limitless industry interactive excursions knowledge and knowhow penchanterbury, steamwhistle turret engineer ne'erwithal locomotartargisan impulsive initiative. 

Eclectic viewing panoramic vistas Blue Jaycent artistry feverish flight, otter agility cast'or syndication minkwellingtitan rebellious bearings.

Urbannock wilderness gymnastic hustle métrobinesting conglomerate codicil, imaginative starlings soaring slamdestine playful tributaries exotic voyage.

It's fun watching lightning over water.

Tough to get pictures though with your phone.

Even if there's a lot and you just keep clicking and clicking and clicking.

Looks beautiful regardless.

I'll try for the video next time.

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. 

Fedrelandet (Songs of Earth)

Imagine living there, naturally ensconced in overwhelming breathtaking beauty, consistently revelling in awestruck wonder as the seasons change and life delivers.

It's fun to catalogue the passing of the seasons like the family does in Fedrelandet (Songs of Earth), humbly showcasing their fertile land which they've boldly cultivated since at least 1603. 

Incredibly beautiful consistently revitalizing miraculous mountainous energetic environs, overflowing with habitual endemic resplendency, what a place to grow up then resiliently stay.

Not that it hasn't been difficult, emergency visits to the hospital were arduous at times, in fact to cure routine and troublesome appendicitis one required a nine hour trek over a mountain to a hospital.

And while the mountains constantly provide mood-altering rejuvenating lithe panaceas, they can at times wipe out whole families when they suddenly tremble with capricious fury.

But the beauty outweighs the risk their rooted reasonable irreducible rubric, providing ubiquitous inspirational levity like the perennial emergence of prehistoric dawn (I spent a year in the Rockies).

Mr. and Mrs. Mykløen are still enamoured with old school l'amour, it's uplifting to watch as they lovingly chill far away in the mountains on the family farm.

Still as holistically fascinated with one another as they lucidly were when their eyes first met, the unyielding preservation of romantic love everlastingly conjoined through limitless longevity.

Strong health and inherent vigour naturally accompanying their lives in the mountains, as they still hike like billy-goats to imposing mountain tops far above the sea.

It's impressive to view the heights they reach without looking like they've put in much of an effort, a life of bold adventurous mountaineering begetting calisthenic courageous camaraderie. 

Fjord living seems remarkably versatile from the stunning vistas and prominent panoramas, not to mention incomparable envisaged reflections in the pristine waters and out on the ice.

Filmmaker Margreth Olin (the Mykløen's daughter) periodically showcases wildlife within her film too, deer and moose and ravens and ferrets industriously existing in inhospitable lands.

There must be tourism it may be cold and isolated but it's still like nowhere else on Earth (crazy Northern Lights).

But perhaps that kind of thing would disrupt the harmony.

What a thrilling way of life.

Effervescent through the centuries (crazy waterfalls too).

*The Mykløens explain things much more clearly in the film.

Burden of Dreams

If you're ever under a lot of pressure to achieve a difficult goal, which seems beyond accomplishing too impossible to ever attain, perhaps watch Les Blank's Burden of Dreams as it films the making of Fitzcarraldo, and Werner Herzog's Herculean labours trying to finish the chaotic anti-epic.

Then watch Fitzcarraldo itself and consider that he actually did finish it. With setbacks that would have sent Olympic athletes home in exasperation. No matter what he got 'er done.

I don't know if these films are part of a master class in improvisational independent filmmaking, where the students study Herzog's endeavours and reach conclusions as to his methods.

Or arduously research grand ambition as applied to making international films, where extremely complicated and delicate agreements must be reached with critical Natives.

Or practically study the provision of supplies to an isolated camp deep in the jungle, where hundreds of extras and film personnel had to be well-fed to fend off the boredom.

With the deep pockets of a Hollywood studio it would have perhaps been a different story, although I imagine they would have backed out after the setbacks became too outrageous (punitive raids etc.).

Credit to Herzog for never backing down and to every cast and crew member who stuck it out till the end. 

Hyperintense ominous immersion. 

Ineffable formidable frustration. 

Heart of Darkness comes to mind and Apocalypse Now as well no doubt, as if Herzog was somewhat like Kurtz madly delegating lost in the jungle.

Interviews capture distinct moments alternative viewpoints his different moods, many of them courageous and vigorously defiant while some give way to augmented misery. 

The diaries of Les Blank and Maureen Gosling excerpts of which come with the Criterion Edition of Burden of Dreams (they used to anyway, I bought my copy 20 years ago), offer disenchanting insights into the chaos and some of the decisions that had to be made.

Still to make them to be so artistically obsessed the bona-fide-mad-genius expediently concocting, reflexively adjusting to constant insane pressure, with everyone confused seeking guidance and instruction.

While Kinski erupts in fury (Blank doesn't focus much on Kinski but you can see it in Herzog's My Best Fiend) and the threat of mutiny ubiquitously languishes. 

The absolute pursuit of compulsive artistry. 

People actually risking their lives.

I don't know if there ever was what could be considered a plan.

If there was and it was written down it should be in a museum.

Copies available for study.

With mind-bogglingly resilient discipline. 

*Cool shots of jungle animals at times. 

Microcosmos

If seeking to find a source of enticing limitless variability, look no further than the world of insects, where diminutive dynamism thrives indelicately. 

Lithely chronicled in Microcosmos as patiently directed by Claude Nuridsany and Marie Pérennou, within vibrant versatile insect life peculiarly transmits intense reverberations. 

The scenes they capture motivate wonder to efficiently charm warm and pleasant enchantments, as imaginative random uncanny creatures magically enhance sundry fertile environments.

They present ants and moths and snails and bees and butterflies plus dragonflies to name a few, as they go about their embowering business within sprightly forests, ponds, and meadows.

The shots they take of a random meadow or pond or even the integral backwoods, peacefully remind observant viewers of the incredible life residing yonder.

It's not the easiest thing to do to film or photograph chill insect encounters, to find moments which showcase romance or strife or industry can take a long time.

So worth it when it finally comes to evocatively and picturesquely pass, so many mind-blowing moments in Microcosmos it's a feverish feast for the cerebral senses. 

The unobtrusive close-ups delicately offering detailed macroscopic visuals, that focus on the limbs and bodies and colours which nature has crafted with so much precision.

It's often the colours I find most intriguing the illuminative spectrum artistically manifested, intense greens reds oranges and blues collectively conjuring luminescent spontaneity. 

So many of them have wings as well their bodies are so compact and they can fly, I must admit that if they can sense us they likely pity our lack of flight.

Lol, there's no doubt many of them can sense us dragonflies even protect us when mosquitoes swarm, and bees severely criticize if we seek their honey, and flies indubitably make their presence known!

I've mentioned that it's like an art museum the sundry ludic bug shapes and sizes (and nature generally), as I'm sure many others have as well, the striking majesty of creation/evolution.

The world of insects really is much more diverse than that of rodents or reptiles or birds, there are so many shockingly unique characteristics that fluidly regale multivariable lifeforms. 

I liked the lack of narration and the light-hearted chill and comic soundtrack.

I wonder how many naturalists Microcosmos inspired.

As winter sets in, bring on the documentaries (plus Love Nature)! 

Mein liebster Fiend - Klaus Kinski (My Best Fiend)

Imagine you're deep in the South American jungle working on a film as demanding as Fitzcarraldo, and your lead actor keeps erupting in fits of rage as you fight with the rain and the heat and the bugs.

It wasn't the first film they'd work on under such circumstances they'd already completed Aguirre, the Wrath of God, like two powerful inconsolable filmmaking forces could only lament that they worked so well together.

Kinski live in front of an audience just being himself inspired by the crowd, introduces wild indefatigable levels of supreme individualistic animosity.

Epically convinced of his unrivalled unique ingenious multivariability, he rants and raves with intense proclamations defying anything other than his genius.

Herzog threatens him with death local Natives inform the director that they could kill him, his egocentric chaotic tantrums so unhinged they encouraged murder.

What was it like out in the jungle with that crew the environment challenging to live in without conflict, festering manic clashing wills capable of volcanically exploding at any time?!

They met when Herzog was 13 they briefly lived in the same boarding house together, where Werner took note of his animated routine and was remarkably impressed by his latent fury.

Which was unfairly unleashed at his expense so many so many times. 

As he efficiently crafted his tales.

Gluttons gormandizing.

I was impressed with Herzog's English it's pretty solid for a non-Native speaker, it's rare that someone comes so close to perfecting the accent and chooses so many clever words precisely.

Strange artists, creating through conflict rather than romance or adorability, tuned into the world's stately danger while insanely narrativizing its carnal threats. 

It's like Herzog was a creative Agamemnon and the furious Kinski his invincible Achilles, the two battling Priam and Hector while bellicosely diversifying German arthouse cinema. 

Mein liebster Fiend - Klaus Kinski (My Best Fiend) is fun to watch if you're looking for insights into their working relationship, not without examinations of Kinski's tender side, still certainly absorbed by his insensitive locus.

I wish this had been made before Kinski passed it would have been exciting to see him discuss his work with Herzog, it's no doubt a chilling account from Mr. Herzog's point of view, but it would have been so much more thrilling with more recourse to the alternative.

I'll have to do more research into his life I don't know much about his works besides these stunning Herzog adventures (plus more Herzog films too).

And that he was able to steal scenes and leave a lasting impression.

As the bitter anarchist. 

In Doctor Zhivago.

Baraka

I never grow tired of watching nature documentaries or even those visually illuminating the city, Baraka thoughtfully depicting footage from around the globe with stunning piquant composed vibrant artistry.

It's easy to get caught up with your own active life or even that of your incumbent nation, while so many people from different jurisdictions engage in equally meaningful constructive lifestyles. 

Always thrilling to catch brief glimpses into multivariable globalized difference, whether it's a family subsisting in the jungle or the intense dynamics of inner-city life.

Some of it chill like large spiritual groups a' sittin' back chantin' peaceful rhythms, cohesively immersed within various communities promoting productive agile interactions.

Some of it distressing like the unenviable plight of the wee baby chick on its way to the dinner table, so much complex and moribund thought mechanically engineered to generate death. 

The machines, such incredible machines consistently moving with predictable motions, each tiny incalculable component seamlessly essential to the grandiose whole. 

I worry about my weed-whacker breaking down even though I hardly ever use it, there must be tens of thousands of parts if not more in these industrialized factories fabricating goods at all times.

In the same way the bucolic anthems of rural collectives maintain melodic harmonies, as hundreds of people work together in unison to directly praise nature and togetherness.

Coincidentally, how do you even find your place in these colossally imposing massive urban apartments?, if the elevator breaks you'd be in serious trouble and I don't even mind a bit of a walk from time to time.

It's like each building's its own small town and you can easily get lost within.

I imaging they have a level selling groceries etc.

How could you possible live with that many people?

Baraka presents compelling images opening up passages to holistic exploration, its spectrum vast and internationally eclective to village-city-business-and-wilderness.

A good companion piece for ye olde Samsara although watching both films in one night may lead to awestruck overload.

It may have been one of the first documentaries to approach the world in this fashion.

Therefore pioneering, brilliant, and seminal.

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. 

Science is Fiction: 23 Films by Jean Painlevé

Long before David Attenborough started creating amazing nature documentaries, other visionary pioneering filmmakers set the cerebral stage, some not as fascinated by the more famous untamed beasties, like Jean Painlevé and Geneviève Hamon, who explored unheralded marine life for years.

They set their sights on the limitless sea and created a series of awe-inspiring films, creatively conjured and imaginatively nuanced in this chill and humorous compilation.

Instinctively driven by the unknown creatures whose otherworldly existence salutes biodiversity, they follow the lives of some of the most unique wild animals I've ever seen.

With instructive goals in mind and a desire to encourage aquatic acclimatization, to make one think of the billions of lives which exist beneath the waves while gazing outwards.

Indeed, parts of the ocean are rather similar to the sprawling concrete labyrinths we've come to know as cities, their complex interactive interconnected citizens having steadily evolved for resonant ages. 

I don't know what the turnover rate is for squirrel families on land in local forests, but the coolest thought is that the same squirrel fams have scamperingly existed in the same local woodland for thousands of generations (especially in areas with little to no human contact). 

That's why threats to endangered species acts are so shockingly foolish and cruel, the ways in which they ignore the millions of years these creatures have matured and developed alongside us.

They deserve to be left some space to roam as they freely have since they took formal shape, who are we to mess with the existence of outstanding miracles and flourishing distinction?

Painlevé and Hamon capture such life in its multivariable enriching abundance, and like poets unconcerned with fads they tenderly present the enticing unexpected.

I find with the plethora of contemporary nature documentaries illustriously abounding with fluent synergies, many of them don't lose sight of this focus and still present newfound insects etc.

Thus, in a program at times fiercely focused on lions and cheetahs, there's a pause in the imposing narrative to examine a bug or a bird or a rodent.

Like science-fiction and fantasy nature documentaries have changed remarkably since I was a wee lad.

With thanks to filmmakers like Painlevé and Hamon.

Who thought no doubt this is cool?

Ban octopus farms! 

🐙

When We Were Kings

It's tough to determine the varying degrees through which codes classify sensations, but the boxing legend introduced in When We Were Kings as Muhammad Ali is like the bona fide quintessential genuine.

I've never seen an athlete so at ease while rapidly sharing points of view, with pinpoint provocative picturesque poignancy, I have to admit, I was a bit overwhelmed.

Without rehearsing he sincerely presents multiple compelling thoughts and observations, without worrying how they'll be interpreted, or what people might shockingly think.

It's pure ironclad honest discourse which doesn't hesitate or pause, and also has cool things to say, what an incredible entertainer.

With idyllic public relations, Ali expertly holds the crowd, with carefree innocent freeform inspiration, like he truly was touched by God.

Perhaps brought about by character gained by his refusal to fight in Vietnam, the essential prominent humanistic integrity righteously disseminating goodwill and purpose.

With the advent of social media and the extra layer of thoughtful scrutiny, media sensations face quite the struggle when suddenly engaging the critical public.

And even though you would think remarkable variability would generally spread with unconcerned expression, the age old mass marketed commercial prejudice still seems to be manifesting one-dimensional stereotypes.

It seemed like within an open-minded spectrum composed with respect and multilateral dignity, alternative ideas would resoundingly flourish in what's oft referred to as friendly conversation.

Not in terms of the monstrous dissonance chaotically cultivated by the resurgent far right, nor the exceedingly suffocating rules prudishly administered by the far left.

But a less lucrative and spellbinding continuum bound to sell far fewer newspapers, wherein which less sarcastic and vitriolic peeps fluently inquire and delve and reckon.

Nevertheless, I imagine that even within the quasi-totalitarian discourse, Muhammad Ali's imaginative voice still would have wondrously shone through.

With ethical poise and cultural understanding, literally like no other mass media sensation, it's like smoothly flowing poetic jazz music freely offered with upstanding nerve.

I wholeheartedly recommend When We Were Kings to anyone who deals with media.

A crash course in vital fluidity.

Presented in verdant balm.

Loin du Vietnam (Far from Vietnam)

You wonder why or how it ever seemed so significant, how a tiny jungle country in southeast Asia could have warranted a prolonged bloodthirsty conflict.

With thousands dying in a hostile land uniformly united to defend their realm, ideology butchered with extreme malignancy to attempt to settle a political rampage.

Loin du Vietnam (Far from Vietnam) packs a ferocious punch as it analyzes the Vietnam War, presenting multiple viewpoints from opposing sides furiously hellbent on polemical destruction.

But I don't see a synthesis here it seems plain and clear the resistance was right, or that those challenging the bellicose authorities were in virtuous possession of infallible conviction.

How could you ever convince someone of ideological agency by aggressively bombing them day and night?, the documentary capturing the ruthless madness that viciously encouraged rampant death and devastation.

Violently disseminating your message pestiferously begets similar responses, an eye for an eye the message still the same, many people will fight if you use violence to persuade them.

And what do you win if you radically subdue them, besides ubiquitous engrained somnambulism, the remarkable thrill of having thoroughly convinced someone worth billions more and much less expensive.

If you proceed with friendship or genuine curiosity to lay the foundations for lucrative trade, diplomatically distilling mutually beneficial matrices things generally improve while many prosper.

Peaceful relations hopefully nurture networks which convivially matriculate as goals are met, infrastructure enabled with longitudinal lattice to efficiently enliven fortuitous fable.

People do often seem to be at odds or indeed rather grumpy from time to time, but cultures which embrace feminine counsel seem to succeed with more byzantine balance.

Like I've said before, a solid mix of the genders has led to fun working experiences, the desire to productively intermingle while taking account of multifaceted interrelations, resonantly producing cohesive outputs, negotiating novelty and tradition.

I was sad to hear Jean-Luc Godard passed this year, he's most certainly one of my favourite directors (he's one of 7 directors who made Loin du Vietnam).

I enjoyed so many of his unique films in my youth.

I'm curious to know where he ended up?! 🤔

*Note: some monogender environments can be fun too, but they're definitely more well-rounded or versatile if there's a mix. 

Jenseits des Sichtbaren - Hilma af Klint (Beyond the Visible - Helma af Klint)

Jenseits des Sichtbaren - Hilma af Klint (Beyond the Visible - Helma af Klint) examines prolific artist Helma af Klint, whose pioneering abstractions remain relatively unknown according to the documentary. 

She lived and worked in Sweden in the 19th and early 20th centuries, and spent her life cultivating an uncanny aesthetic that unfortunately never received much attention.

I don't know if she wanted attention but audience or not she persevered, and her family wisely kept her paintings delicately preserved then tucked away.

If someone was hoping to construct a history of abstract painting, it would be surprising if they overlooked Klint (her paintings look cool), which is what art critics in the film suggest happened to the disillusioning misfortune of narrative consistency.

If you have 250 odd pages at your disposal, at least, there's no excuse for omitting a paragraph, or a footnote or page or chapter if you're attempting to present the entire picture (competing narratives within narratives [so blasé]).

I was taught to investigate narrative from multidisciplinary perspectives, and that there was such a wealth of material available that it would be foolish to believe in absolute superlatives (I always thought this seemed natural to most people but I guess so many never bother to listen to works that actually win or are nominated for awards).

Of course I still had favourites which I liked to promote and was surprised when they were overlooked, but a quick application of democratic variability helped me entertain multilateral ethics.

Of course the real world outside of Québec was much different than what I imagined in school, it was rather disputatiously composed of people who actively dealt in superlatives (ironically so much of the best stuff is Québecois! [eat it Lord Durham]).

Multilateral ethics were rather ineffectual and much less exciting than passionate tomfoolery, or sarcastic dismissals of complex thoughts that preferred foolish stereotypes to communal reason.

Nevertheless, I never lost sight of my reliable preferences even if they morphed and shifted over time, and it never mattered to me who or what group was creating, as long as they weren't cultivating a violent racist aesthetic.

It's sad how in the world at large you often have to identify with fads if you want to make money, rather than randomly choosing various texts and judging them based on your own peculiar artistic preferences. 

I still recognize that my conception of artistic may seem like nonsense to others.

Wherein which lies the fun.

If you steer clear of the belligerents. 

American Movie

The raw driven thrill of inspired independent film, chaotically coordinated lackadaisic laidback limbers.

Years of patient agile sure and steady accumulation, slowly taking fluid shape as patches pageants come to life ⛄.

Funding somewhat murky frenetic favours downcast debt, so much time having passed that latent doubts distract distend.

But undaunted brave creative will survives extends shoots forth, engaging adamant mutation festive fertile flexibility. 

Friends and family in support in varying degrees throughout the years, some prone to blunt dismissals, others grateful to take part.

No other option integrated multifarious febrile fortunes, indeterminate orchestration lively ritualistic passion.

I wish more people took the time to actively create in such a way, although there's certainly no shortage of homemade videos on the net.

But Coven's different it's a homemade film which genuinely applies individualistic techniques, to uncompromising storytelling free from marketed motivations.

Not that they weren't hoping to sell some copies and earn a little scratch, but they're not trying to fit a trend or join a movement or full-on capitalize. 

Its nascent steps like underground logistics reasonable existential acumen, confident enriching local community maestro marrowed mirth in motion.

Why not film the entire process year after year keep the camera rolling?, simultaneous narratives taking shape embossed emergence metamatriculation. 

No holding back compelling honesty bold and unconcerned developments, within which resides emancipation from so much scripted routine life.

With many friends and even more critics Mr. Borchardt pursues his grassroots vision, dealin' with a family of his own and difficult work at a nearby cemetery. 

And practically no income for years, sundry setbacks, animate tension, disapproval.

The will to strive on forth.

Incomparable stalwart artist.

A monumental cultural achievement to have so much room for so much variation.

Constitutional cross-purposes.

Irreconcilably rapt.

*Happy Thanksgiving!

Into the Deep

It was difficult to take Into the Deep seriously until a friend verified it wasn't a mockumentary, it seemed so definitively rehearsed that I had trouble believing real people were being interviewed.

I read on Wikipedia that several people didn't want to be involved with the film after what happened, and that they asked for their scenes to be removed to avoid being exposed to public scrutiny.

It looks like their scenes were then reshot with real actors trying to seem as if their interviews were authentic, but it appears as if actors are trying to fake real life and it doesn't work at all.

Then there's what actually took place which seems even more improbable, a mad genius takes a reporter out for a ride in his submarine and then murders her and dumps the body.

He had been planning a trip to space and hoped to get there before his rivals, whom he had recently worked for until the disputes grew too intense.

Since he was hoping to travel to space, he inspired bright documentary filmmaker Emma Sullivan to follow him, and create a movie about his life for peeps curious about bold endeavour.

As she filmed she captured raw footage of a fledgling psychopath perhaps emboldened, by his sudden emergence into pop culture and its corresponding associations of invincibility. 

Which of course are rather misguided but if the film is true (honestly, I'm still not convinced), he thought he could murder someone in his submarine and then dump the body and get away with it.

When parts of the body are found shortly thereafter he has a wild tale for the police, which continues to change every time they find fresh evidence, until he's finally locked away.

I'm not sure if it's a syndrome, but with the ubiquitous flourishing of social media, along with ye olde traditional televisual outlets, it seems like many will take mad risks to go viral.

Supported by a culture which elevates malevolence and consistently associates it with power through film (even winning Oscars), when people find themselves in the popular spotlight, they may do whatever it takes to go viral.

Reality TV never faded either and with Twitter and Facebook its sphere of influence expanded significantly, whereas on the one hand you have people trained to work in media (CBC, BBC, CNN, NBC . . .), and on the other, a mass improvised colossus 😎.

Perhaps that's why the people being interviewed in Into the Deep seem like ragtag actors, they're trying to be real like their favourite reality TV stars while forgetting they are aren't acting (or are they?).

The story's no doubt incredible how did something like this ever take place?

The world has fundamentally mutated.

There's so much freedom if you live offline. 

Bergman Island

Dad often liked to talk about how he loved arthouse cinema when he was at University, and the director he remembered watching most frequently was the internationally celebrated Ingmar Bergman.

It was difficult to get dad to watch independent cinema as the years passed by, but he did start to enjoy traditional science-fiction which was a big most welcome surprise.

I admit to never having grown tired of either and to still enjoying the inordinate synthesis, I still find blending the arthouse and the mainstream makes for a more diverse constructive dialogue.

You have the individualistic rebellious insights independently crafted with subjective certainty, mischievously juxtaposed with august objective stately ponderous risk based analysis.

I don't recommend proceeding in this fashion if you want to occasionally communicate with others (about film), my humble experience at least has led me to believe that most people prefer one to the other.

I still find the blend much more intriguing, a wider spectrum, more robust confluence.

I'm too old to worry about categorical superlatives. 

In fact I find them most distasteful.

Ingmar Bergman's films are still fun to watch, as melancholically instructive as they are light and playful, at times showcasing eccentric enigmatic enlightenment somewhat lost with the ways of the world.

Bergman Island is a fascinating treat for curious fans of the prolific director, an extended interview patiently presented at his cherished home on Fårö Island.

His thoughts are still clear and descriptive as he discusses life with vivid detail, courageously holding nothing back, wholeheartedly concerned with unfiltered honesty.

There's a funny moment near the end where he mentions a lie he once made to the press, something spontaneous he said when he had no answer to a question that was suddenly asked and caught him off guard.

He was annoyed because the spur of the moment random response came to be taken as irrefutable fact.

I wonder how often that happens.

A somewhat comic reflection on truth (how often have I thought, "it's just something they said!").

If you're a fan of Bergman or auteurs in general Bergman Island is essential viewing.

Raw insights into sublime genius.

A passionate life.

Not without controversy.

Koko: A Talking Gorilla

Koko: A Talking Gorilla presents pioneering documentary wildlife footage, shot long before Love Nature and BBC Earth emerged, it offers a direct hands-on approach to the crafting of naturalistic wonder. 

In a scholastic setting.

Is it possible for gorillas to acquire humanistic language skills?

Yes, Barbet Schroeder showcases the evidence within, and even if Koko doesn't learn to sign perfect human, he still learns hundreds of words by heart, and can engage in elementary small talk.

However, I have to admit that as I watched Koko and Penny Patterson communicating, I felt kind of bad for the verbose beastie, who seems somewhat uncomfortable a lot of the time within the film.

He often seems like he'd much rather be foraging around in the jungle, and although the experiment produces compelling results, did it thoroughly take into account Koko's natural instincts, his innate desires to gorilla about?

I like experiments that teach us more about animal kind because they're good at deconstructing stereotypes regarding non-humans, but so many of the them end with horrible results for the animals, that sometimes it seems like it's best not to conduct them.

I'm thinking about Susan Casey's book Voices in the Ocean: A Journey into the Wild and Haunting World of Dolphins, anyways, which starts out with a cool example of beatniks swimming with dolphins in Hawaii, while totally respecting dolphin kind's independence.

But then chapter after chapter chronicles horrendous interactions between well-meaning (and not so well-meaning) scientists (and others) and dolphins, which left me with a rather critical outlook regarding such experiments, since so many of them ended horribly.

I think animal awareness has remarkably improved in some countries and regions over the past 20 years, and there's certainly an abundance of caring people sharing animal love on the internet.

And I imagine generations are following David Attenborough's incredible example as they respectfully interact with our fellow Terran inhabitants (who have just as much of a right to this planet as we do). 

But the good's still mixed with an abundance of bad of cruel practices and experiments that are socially accepted, not to mention cultural prejudices which display shocking misguided horror, sign up for emails from Peta, be prepared for extreme woe.

Koko's treated well in the film and the people involved don't employ old school viewpoints, which justify outrageous abuses of intelligent animals based upon preferences for intellectual standing.

Rather they try to break down the barriers which uphold so many distressing rationalities. 

Koko still seems like he'd rather be playing.

I'm not sure where to draw the line.

I wonder what Jane Goodall thinks of this film?

Note: I love Orangutan Jungle School.