Mirror

Linear lexicon austere diagonal summative symmetry dreamlike dactylling, chatterboxspringboard indolent bygone somnolent vigil indisposed surplus.

Mercantile mosey infinitesimal obsessed meticulous decadent detail, insatiable artistry florid severity feverish function exacting calculi.

Narrative nutshells mutating tangents dashing trajectory cerebral psyche, baroque pastoral quizzical quagmire enticing stammer novel conception.

Delinquent twilight delirious dawn exuberant basking critical fortitude, garrulous botswanchimichungun variety homely holischticks Aragorn antics.

Petulant snide non-descript undulation incrementality boreal wavelength, icy thermometer candycanesugar domicile dojo sandcastle slush.

Opulent obscure byzantine impoverished wild ostentation clandestine swerve, communicado cobrahmbasheering catalyst Centigrade blockading simper.

Vervent dispute vehement orchestrations epochal whimcycle trailblazing bllama, alpacadaisical blithe intermittence Florentine fibrous enflummoxing folio.

Tomeo tantamountain'earinglattitude impacting magna cartisane arcadence, chrysanthemum quadrille incurious nascence beep-beep-beep-beep-beep electrode clavé.

Saffron servility chandelier shimmer kelvintenetic ardent waffling temper, popsicle pyjama primrose piñata bellwether wiggle-me sizzle-chun-chai.

Phonetic dictation Olivander vanguardian vinous cohesion recalcitrant rhythm, Pokemangaga google gastronome Q-Bergson daffadillweed chromosoma. 

La Bamba billowcase cellophane solo regurgitate piping incentive stampede, versatile friendship collective goodwill interconnecting switchboard sonority.

Cerveza sustenance nutritious narcolept secret ingredient tasty admixture, infinite patience modest expenditure tranquil experiment agile invention.

Faulknerian fables rustic romantics acoustic quantum calcified reverb, wandering innocence diligent thrush laidback discretion fluid ambience.

Solemn censorship Kafkaesque grid inherent displacement carousel quip, undaunted tenacity intricate vision puzzling inception theoretical flux.

I like puzzle stories.

Trying to make sense of things.

Better when you have more time.

To go over them again and again. 

Living in Oblivion

Nerve infiltrates compacted peaceful slumber, as unspoken grim anxieties manifest bold social daring.

The act of producing low-budget melodrama generates distracting emotional tributaries, the resultant active jocose jubilee a startling frank holistic wonder.

Much of the action doesn't technically take place even if it still seems realistic, as if the tremors could tumultuously tantalize with neither shock nor animate discord.

As if this kind of thing routinely radiates fluid fluctuation, the finished product an ironic miracle when compared to remonstrations on set.

As if it's just as thought provoking to showcase inherent volatility, as schemes daydreams schematics soporifics seductively succour dis/continuity.

From back in the metaday when filmmakers were more concerned with layers of meaning, and creating remarkably clever scripts, Living in Oblivion proceeds self-reflexively. 

Language employed is critically analyzed as harmless accidents beguile tactile speech, and worst case scenarios disconcertingly duel with resonant rascally aggrieved reverie.

During this heyday way back in fact when I was but a wee ginger lad, I thought it would be cool to create a film adorned with a making of feature which was a common practice at the time.

But I also thought it would be cooler to include an additional making of feature about the making of feature, and then a third making of feature for a 4-disc set in compulsory total.

Thus, there would have been a making of the making of the making of feature to be found in the crazed metaconceit.

Perhaps with each making of feature shot in a different genre.

Sort of like Inception in a way (had this idea before I saw Inception [did Inception indirectly signal the end of the metacraze?]).

The key would have been to apply as much sincerity to each and every making of film (and make sure they were all at least 90 minutes in length).

Probably would have taken too much time.

But the finished product would have been exceptional.

Living in Oblivion bluntly impresses with endearing heartwarming chaotic charm, its agile breakdowns and plump peculiarities highlighting earnest lackadaisical indiscretion.

Daydreaming with 30 seconds to spare.

Latent practicalities of a dream sequence.

The perfect take's emergence.

Obduracy in charge.

Its title's well-suited to a pandemic as meaning consistently shifts and sways.

Found another Steve Buscemi Criterion (Nick Reve [Buscemi doesn't show up in spellcheck!])! 

With Peter Dinklage (doesn't show up in spellcheck either), Catherine Keener, Dermot Mulroney, and Tom Jarmusch (shouldn't show up in spellcheck). 

Genius

Agonizing labour mingling with the bewildered ethereal basks in potential obscured, a neverending stream of doubtful/joyous speculations as incendiary as they are preposterous, throngingly detached from the chattering corporeal, suddenly projecting auditory flashes of verisimilitude.

Acknowledgements.

Discoveries.

Versatile editor Max Perkins (Colin Firth) embraces eccentric self-obsessed writer Thomas Wolfe's (Jude Law) text with encouraging flattery and fetchingly suppressed awe, the two forging a working friendship that leads to eventual publication.

With a granite gristful, Perkins incisively vets to encourage digestion, while Wolfe thoughtfully considers his arguments with jubilant patience and restrained celerity.

Momentum matriculating.

Existential peculiarities haunt Perkins's purpose, as he wonders if his insights hold back the genius for which he dedicatedly advocates.

The director's cut of The Chronicles of Riddick isn't as good.

Mommy, is very good.

Once free, Wolfe is attached to no one, his loving support, his devoted patroness (Nicole Kidman as Aline Bernstein [it's like she hasn't aged since Billy Bathgate]), crippled by his callous insouciance.

His carefree hedonism.

Her sacrifices shut out.

F. Scott Fitzgerald (Guy Pearce) offers begrudging consul as Wolfe's spite begins to deride Perkins, Fitzgerald critiquing Wolfe's Highlander spirit, his divine gravitational pretensions.

To Genius, the film taking something as unappealing as editing a novel then turning it into a multidimensional commentary on loyalty, fame, artistic expression, family, wantonness, friendship, blending trajectories which eventually polarize, fragile confiscated freedoms, collaborative literary identities, Fitzgerald functioning as synthesis.

Editorial toil.

Sometimes you write something that clearly requires no changes for about three days, others you arduously tear a document to shreds to make the improvements you're not sure it needs, most of the time it's just patience, purpose, progress, perplexion.

I actually find writing something, then working out all day, then editing in a state of exhaustion to work quite well as a technique on occasion.

Usually, if I enjoyed writing a poem or a review it needs serious work although that's not always the case.

Fugacious formulae.

Fleeting fancies.

Rock-solid reliability.

Temporal pressures.

Fragmentary fusions.

Consumption.

Silliness.

Reserve.

Should you just let it tear you apart?

For utility's sake?

Checkered Chattanooga.

Undecided.

*I'm wondering if purchased copies will include a conversation between director Michael Grandage and editor Chris Dickens as a bonus feature.

The Raven

A mildly entertaining inconsistent romantic horror, James McTeigue's The Raven situates Edgar Allan Poe (John Cusack) within a demented psychotic murderous tribute to his work and demands that he creates within. As a madperson kidnaps his love interest (Alice Eve as Emily Hamilton) and uses materials from his texts in a homicidal homage, Poe assists Detective Fields (Luke Evans) in his desperate corresponding investigation.  Anticipation leads to discovery but they vexingly remain one step behind the sought after killer and his or her realistic portrait of the literary dead. The time required to psychologically digest the enormity of its impact is vindictively denied as the narrative quickly shuffles from one grizzly chapter to the next.

And the unacknowledged trauma sinks in.

Lying within this structure lies a hidden master/slave dichotomy. If you find yourself working within a environment in which your labour is continuous, giving you little time to think about anything else, and your efforts fail to result in better working conditions, as this pattern is reproduced, and your debt load continues to climb and your forbidden subject of desire becomes increasingly unattainable, an underlying current of motivated pointlessness emerges when the shape-shifting face of capital presents itself, exalting a moribund elixir.

This could explain why The Raven's dialogue possesses a timeless quality which utilizes both 19th and 21st century forms of expression.  By quasi-atemporally refusing to abide by a linear conception of verbal predictability, it subtly manifests this motivated pointlessness while elevating an unconscious ethos which revels in the disruption of contemplative leisure (the 60 hour work week).