West Side Story

Intriguing to consider a massive fertile thriving landscape, where millions of people routinely flocked in search of work and wealth and romance.

If a more respectful and mutually beneficial way had been found to share the land with its Indigenous inhabitants, the situation would be even more compelling, true adventure emboldened quests.

West Side Story passionately chronicles a dispute between two groups who have yet to prosper, who fight each other for turf and are none too hospitable across the board.

The social safety net lacks efficient robust ubiquitous munificent potency, and even when it attempts to assist, its generosity is at times vilified. 

Love remains the key as it always has as it always will, two enthused youths from opposing ethnicities, their inspiring union communally detested. 

Perhaps it was that way when the feisty Irish moved to Québec in the 19th century, initial hostility eventually giving way to amorous endeavours through the passage of time.

There were none such clashes in my youth the different cultures tended to bond, coming together productively for a time ignoring race, religion, and class.

It's a preferable more constructive sociocultural model to craft, communally sound and reciprocally uplifting, generally united with the most predominant language, citizens free to speak how they want in their private lives.

There were jokes about race and ethnicity while I was growing up, but they were so ridiculous not many took them seriously, film and television often fought perverse racism, no one wanted to reignite despotic Naziesque tensions.

Unfortunately, misguided sensationalists overturned hard fought logical accords, instinctual rhythms lacking rational guidelines paving the way for bellicose jingoism. 

There's a fight near the end of West Side Story a wild clash between volatile leaders, followed by death and chaotic discord, desires for vengeance, shattered l'amour.

Steven Spielberg still deserves the nomination, this film is a masterpiece 50 years later.

The amount of planning that must have gone into it.

Incredible genius. 

Intricate fathoms. 

Tôkyô nagaremono (Tokyo Drifter)

The road to iron clad legitimacy is fraught with treacherous peril, for Tetsuya Hondo (Tetsuya Watari) in Tôkyô nagaremono (Tokyo Drifter), whose loyalty is beyond question.

His formerly criminal organization has invested in property to freely reform, but bitter rivals get word of the deal, and comport themselves bold retroactively.

Tetsuya is meek beforehand, out of respect for the honourable transaction, he takes his punishment glib disenchanted, as goons revel in unrestrained cheetah.

But as data fiercely transmits, and he must accept the rotten audacity, previous instincts hark and reckon, although he must refrain from combat.

His prowess is legendary however (not me - I'm a dork), and the wicked fear his volatile sanctions, and rest uneasy as he ably persists, notably after he sees them commit murder.

Soon he must sorrowfully withdraw, to wander distraught and alone, but his whereabouts are swiftly detected, wherever he woefully roams.

Loyalties offer safe passage, but allegiances ruefully construct both sides, the network remarkably well-integrated, cohesive, tight, interconnected.

He contemptuously dismisses another for living without a code, beyond hard-fought lovelocked fidelity, without teamwork, history, reliability.

Dependability. 

He soon encounters a reimagined schematic which challenges his strict resolve.

He's tragic but not inflexible.

With agile incredulous misgivings.

Tôkyô nagaremono emits angelic light as it chaotically discerns discrepancy, pop culture celestially bemusing as random outbursts shock and dismay.

The cultivation of foundations taunts and testifies, through the deconstruction of alliance, in touch with haunting self-sufficiencies, and acrimonious disbelief. 

Creativity pervades its reckonings as it constructs versatile truth and meaning, inspired low budget authenticity, the film itself somewhat like honest Tetsuya.

A lot of stuff just kind of happens.

It's fun to go with the flow.

Get caught up in the free-form productivity, the improvised so don't cha know? 

Perhaps seminal in terms of its influence, I imagine Tôkyô nagaremono motivated sundry filmmakers, to create not for prestige or money, but simply because there's a story to tell.

Find the crew, make it up on the fly, working with what's been established beforehand (scripts in process).

There's nothing quite like the spur of the moment.

Such raw magnetic intensity. 

Tsotsi

Gang leader David (Presley Chweneyagae) has a bizarre crisis of conscience after stealing an automobile in the first twenty minutes of Gavin Hood's Tsotsi. Used to spending his time organizing petty robberies with the help of his friends, David suddenly steals a car on his own only to find a baby nestled in the back seat. Horrific and haunting childhood memories demand that he care for the child in order to make amends for his father's abuse. In the meantime, the child's parents use their power and influence to vigilantly search for their offspring.

Tilling complicated ethical ground, Tsotsi illustrates how a troubled individual uses the rewards gained from criminal activities to transform his attitude regarding community living. Hood is clear to point out that the opportunities in David's neighbourhood are slim and a life of crime one of the only options. As David learns more about the art of parenting, his personality changes and he develops a more inclusive set of social principles. And then he is arrested, but on his own terms.