Mulan

Way back in the 1980s and ye olde '90s it seemed inevitable, that people would be chosen to play active roles based on their abilities as opposed to race or gender.

The continuous dissemination of progressive narratives interactively found in books, TV and film, encouraged the equitable development of equal opportunity across the land.

The absolute was definitively critiqued and humorously lampooned in multifarious flux, thousands upon thousands of alternative viewpoints productively shared with evocative gusto.

The open-minded ethos and shifting conclusions weren't wholeheartedly adapted by many, however, the subconscious desire for lucid answers effectively delivered much more enticing.

Not just for mathematical problems but for sociocultural and political dilemmas, their inherent fluctuating resilience and inconclusive nature somewhat frustrating. 

In mathematics class, it's often enjoyable to find the right answer, indeed to know there's an actual answer that can be resolutely considered correct.

In language studies, it can be just as fulfilling to find multiple theses and reasonable alternatives, since concrete responses ne'er suffice due to multilateral layers of ambivalence. 

Applying multiple layers of ambivalence to the exacting study of mathematics, systematically seems rather comical when effectively challenged by harnessed answers.

Just as the manageable adherence to absolute answers seems somewhat ludicrous from linguistic perspectives, as culturally broadcast again and again by various sitcoms in the United States.

But as the '90s faded, and new technologies become more prominent, the old school ambiguous linguistic efficiencies began to lose ground to mathematical absolutes.

And Trump found himself elected again by a people seeking political absolutism.

The spirit of the '80s and '90s is still out there no freakin' doubt, but it's not as widespread as it used to be in many regions across the U.S.

But where it still resides equal opportunity likely also exists, and should young Mulans vigorously seek non-traditional roles they will hopefully find them. 

It's so distressing to see such incredible intellects like Kamala Harris or Hillary Clinton defeated by a guy like Trump (it's not just that they lost, it's that they lost to a guy like that).

Who seems like he would have failed kindergarten.

Because he never learned to share. 

Daybreak

Athletic whimsy diligent comport innate reliability vigorous anime, disciplined strata convivial charm tight-knit community innocent resilience.

Balanced routine enveloped induction auspicious outfit improvised quiver, amber osmosis symbiotic strut inquisitive mesmer experimental drive.

Friendly expressions voluminous meaning honest reflection versatile worth, turn of the century meaningful moxy exercised spontaneity literate bloom.

Starbright sensation sudden emergence curious question lighthearted llama, delicate domicile surgical smittens florescent felicity gracious hiboollience.

Dashing indiscretion momentous immersion declarative supposition agile excursion, habitual harmonies melodious mantra affable amorous adorable accolades.

Healthy holistics nutritious dairy salubrious snack dependable sustenance, widespread delivery calculi cornerstone baccarat burnish instructive allay.

Unforeseen angst alternative measures arhythmic acrimony stupefied stanza, expedient regrouping semantic seduction voluptuous vaudeville alluring stake.

Intermittent mosey reluctant dialogue grumpy disposition shoreline smother, amusing persistence compelling candour unexpected orbit volatile gravity. 

Calumnious clash loquacious observatory fluid intensity starstruck ceremony, indifferent cadence complacent temper reticent vibe worrisome waivers.

Supple simplicity aloof largesse uncertain insistence carefree cascade, wondrous levitation modest serenade transisting solace whirlpool waves.

Mendacious explanation unabashed charlatan daring enigma eccentric spool, entwined continuity sincere exaggeration eloquent verbosity conspicuous charm.

Inherent distaste laconic displeasure unconvincing swank cacophonous crescendo, diabolic dénouement shocking altercation audacious talons maligned honour. 

Sufficient duelling incarnate eclipse old fashioned imbroglio dynamic darling, lavish la bamba bellicose bulletin fusillade flack aggrieved diagnosis.

Innovative soul structured sympathy hardworking composure elaborate mandate, constructive compassion tenacious tragedy atypical conflict candlelit character.

Still holds up almost a century later.

Loved the speech to the crowd.

Oil and water, latent misfortune.

Manifest irritation. 

Callous calamity. 

Zatoichi and the Fugitives

Lonely travels honourable service distinguished expertise impassive unbound, moderate spirits laidback luminosity chillaxed script amicable spawning. 

Village after village undaunted impressions heuristic avenue versatile innocence, thunderous sympathy locked-down elusivity courageous thirst impish bearings.

Synchronous senses volatile venom meticulous maestro macabre maelstrom, jalapẽnned halo vehement vortex invaluable lotus reticent mamba.

Temperate treasure humble happenstance modest mavenlea generous gremlin, supersonic simplicity salt-of-the-earth tenaciously tilled formidably fastened.

Oriole opposition fujitsu fugitives underling unction bellicose bandits, ancillary antennae undisciplined dogma D'artagnan deaconstruct awkward aversion.

Duplicitous deputy calibrated collusion impractical inspection neoclassical nerve, dandelion dodgeball rutabaga ruse cattail collaboration milkweed wham-o.

Humorous doctor fertilized friendship salubrious saki voluminous laughter, adequate slodgings ambient vertices virtuous Vermeer elegant portrait. 

Cacophonous clash macroscopic orchestrations indefinite delineations tsunami surge, Benedictine blade multifaceted mugwamp magnanimusterings trailblazing munificence. 

Despotic dissonance impulsive embarkation rash reorganization insipid rearrangements, woebegone brinkmanship feverish fortitude bold distillations audacious implosion.

The Zatoichi Zephyr freeform and honest carefree caregiving sensational soil, erudite dissections innovative fair play intuitive bravery inherent stewardship.

Consequent wandering itinerant roll call forensic righteousness playful politesse, omniscient albatross farseeing fulcrum compassionate grizzly acute democracy.

Feudal ferocity.

Immortal sympathy.

Cerebral composition.

Heartfelt hommages. 

*A more intricate Zatoichi. With multiple stakes. And tragic final blows. 

Shin Zatôichi: Yabure! Tôjin-ken (Zatoichi and the One-Armed Swordsman)

Across the multivariable definitive lands of bellicose old school Japan, Zatoichi continues to awkwardly progress in search of honour and friendship and loyalty.

Unfortunately, his enduring prowess leads those who would traditionally salute his daring, to mistrust his holistic self-sacrifice as he haplessly seeks to help them.

Strict absolutes murderously upheld haunt his path in this instalment, as an adventurous family visiting from China runs afoul of ancient custom.

Indeed as the lauded clan leader austerely passes in procession along the road, those in front of him must free the way and humbly kneel and bow and worship.

But a Chinese child's long cherished kite suddenly takes off in front of them as they pass, the swordspeople immediately responding with rancour and consequently murdering strangers in their midst.

A one-armed swordsperson also visiting from China valiantly defends the un-armed innocents, only to be blamed for the resultant massacre and viciously hunted in the shocking aftermath.

Sometime after he flees he encounters Zatoichi with the aghast child, Zatoichi unable to understand his language, but as luck would have it, the boy can translate.

They stealthily stride and furtively fascinate until they find shelter amongst the survivors.

But after Zatoichi departs to gather supplies.

He's erroneously blamed for revealing their location. 

You see people who are interested in the same things curiously associating with one another online, without having to worry about nation or culture the similar interests promoting cohesive bonds.

Dispiritingly, the disseminators of widespread mistrust also prosper online, and miserably challenge the international forums within which global communities thrive and flourish.

Star Trek's universal translator certainly eases linguistic burdens, and makes cross-cultural convivial communication much more generally verbose and heartfelt.

We're not there yet but translating devices are consistently improving year after year, in twenty years I reasonably imagine a similar device may in fact exist.

Back in the day, such a miraculous enabling would have engendered dialogue between Zatoichi and the One-Armed Swordsman, and they would not have had to recklessly engage in a lethal death battle to settle the score.

Perhaps with ameliorated time and animate progressions we'll get there one day.

As the intuitive ideas of younger generations.

Make political headway worldwide. 

Zatôichi jigoku-tabi (Zatoichi and the Chess Expert)

Zatoichi continues to travel throughout Japan, his destination still unknown, his adversaires multiplying.

Unfortunately, due to blindness, knaves and thieves seek to tear him down, but after his brilliant swordpersonship highlights their folly, they vow revenge even though they started it.

Such proceedings regularly occur and he is stuck routinely defending himself, with a high price upon his versatile head, and an inhibiting disability difficult to conceal.

He doesn't make friends either as he regularly cheats people at dice, tricking them into cheating themselves and then critiquing their lack of honesty.

He meets an itinerant master and strikes up a spirited inquisitive acquaintance, the two voyaging by boat together while earning a living as best they can.

But Zatoichi also meets other travellers who passionately seek the samurai who killed their father, and know nothing about him definitively besides the fact that he's quite good at chess.

Moral dilemmas further bewilder as he learns he once murdered the husband of the woman and child he cares for.

Democracy and social justice still hundreds of years away.

Consistent sword fights altruistically emerging.

Had he not learned to ingeniously defend himself Zatoichi the Blind may have flagged and rusted, and never known the voltaic thrill of characteristic difference and pursuits unknown.

Yet even possessing the adventurous intuition so often dismissed by people with sight, he encounters neverending lethal conflict to which he must respond indefinitely.

Sad how the legendary samurai traditionally found within these films, have so much trouble working together and often end up in life or death duels.

Both thoroughly convinced their path is just and in no need of ethical alterations, they eventually must challenge the breathtaking entities who vigorously contradict their chosen way of life.

Thus without the onset of unions they must remain vigilant at all times.

Never embracing the peace of dreams.

Eternal conflict.

Bitter remorse.

*Postmodern samurai could focus on protecting whales and dolphins! 🐋

**Criterion keyword: motif

Neko no ongaeshi (The Cat Returns)

Simple acts of genuine kindness at times cultivate appreciation and respect, the unsuspecting recipients flush with reciprocity should time's passage munificently flow.

Thus, in Neko no ongaeshi (The Cat Returns), the Kingdom of Cats regards Haru with admiration, for having generously gone out of her way while altruistically assuming death-defying risks.

She's rather mild-mannered yet inquisitive and enjoys sleeping in with no time for breakfast, teachers critical of her habitual tardiness yet still sympathetic to the studious cause.

Having naturally developed an intuitive love for animals she notices one legendary day, that a cat may be run over by a fearsome passing truck, which encourages genuine distress.

She quickly scoots into traffic and boldly saves the unobservant feline, who, as fate would have ceremoniously have it, happens to be the Prince of Cats.

Cat kind responds in turn with abundant gifts freely delivered, and even if Haru doesn't know what to do with the mice, she's still taken aback from all the attention.

But soon she's taken away to the exotic otherworldly mythological chillaxed cat kingdom.

Where she's betrothed to the very same Prince.

As she starts to transform into a cat!

Imagine a less self-obsessed world where sincere kindness and warmth played a role, and people looked out for one another like the Québecois while structuring their cultural and communal relations.

I don't hear it mentioned often anymore but the Pay it Forward movement was a very cool thing, I don't know what it transformed into but hopefully the thought behind it's the same. 

The movement as I recall sought to reward acts of kindness, self-sacrificingly shared between conscious individuals, conscientiously aware of the tender exchange.

If someone was kind enough to do someone a favour or help someone out without having been called upon, then the person who received the aid would then help someone else in the near future, or Pay it Forward.

Marrying the King of Cat's son and transforming into a cat may have taken things too far, but had there been a courtship ritual involved, perhaps the results would have been somewhat different.

An appealing idea nonetheless which effortlessly radiates cohesive collegiality. 

It exists in so many forms.

Constructively mutating across the land.  

Sword of the Beast

During a period of volatile change, many samurai seek reform, to promote egalitarian civility and democratic justice, or clans less prone to autocratic caprice.

Yuuki Gennosuke (Mikijirô Hira) thinks his actions will lead to the cultivation of fairness throughout his clan, but after he disposes of its counsellor with his associates, the ambitious incumbent seeks their ruin.

The incumbent had convinced them to do it with promises of wealth and social prestige, Yuuki indubitably furious as he blindly flees to live as a fugitive in the fertile countryside.

He's zealously pursued by the ex-counsellor's daughter and many of the personnel he once considered friends, labelled an outcast bereft of sanctuary he's consistently betrayed everywhere he goes.

But he does find one independent man amusingly hoping to steal gold from a nearby mountain, in search of stalwart protection as he pans, Gennosuke can't deny it's a good place to lie low.

But another samurai has the same idea and already resides on the auriferous slopes, his wife assisting his painstaking efforts as they covet the haughty forbidden.

They've accumulated a vast sum but if they're suddenly caught they'll swiftly lose everything.

Will the two rogue samurai bond?

Before succumbing to age old destiny?

Hideo Gosha's Sword of the Beast illuminates chaos to deconstruct logic, as courageous honourable spirits innocently contend with mature corruption. 

The sundry enticing twists and turns cacophonously layered with magnetic disillusion, keep the frenzied imbroglio basting with aggrieved vehemence and eternal reckoning.

Not without a comic edge, its youthful characters at times light of heart, even while relentlessly pursued they still find time for love and play.

I imagine they mischievously reflect the carefree confidence of the young adult warrior, never fearing death or injury and ready to fight at any given moment.

Gosha gives these daring samurai manifold opportunities to prove their valour, in a celebration of just independence bravely challenging engrained malfeasance. 

With so-much death-defying animation it's impossible to tear yourself away.

Aligned with intricate ethical dilemmas. 

Who is the beast indeed?

Forushande (The Salesman)

Honourable codes parlay filings frosty, high stress politesse addressed immaterials, expectations, blame, a role, a play, residual sin licentious spaces, jasmine, tremors entrenched repute resounding, a home makeshift explicit riffs callow, advanced notification withheld as fictional and realistic threads intertwine to obscure an artistic commitment, the adoption of a foreign text from a less patriarchal period and country (?) expressing thoughts and desires strictly forbidden, blended with alternative signs of subterranean dissatisfaction to question free thought as if it's a supernatural challenge, as if the artist is being challenged by God, a progressive man on the Iranian scene must internally confront strength, shock, and shame, obsessive disdain, turmoil exhaustively cultivated.

His wife's willing to forgive.

Emad (Shahab Hosseini) spends so much time thinking vengeful thoughts that he overlooks Rana's (Taraneh Alidoosti) suffering as rage slowly consumes him.

She was the victim, she was the one who was attacked, but throughout Asghar Farhadi's The Salesman Emad is more concerned with personal honour.

He critiques the system within which he was nurtured but is still a product of that system and when the real clashes with his noble imagination the sublime does not judiciously compensate.

Women shortsightedly relegated to a subservient role.

The salesperson interrogates to enlighten yet struggles as he surfaces.

The film brilliantly examines his tortured soul, but is also a product of its circumstances, and focuses far less time on the feminine.

A purgatorial predicament.

Igniting bitter flames.

Live by Night

Ben Affleck's Live by Night could have been could have been could have been.

It champions multicultural reflexivity as opposed to rigid dictations as its extremely honourable Irish gangster hero Joe Coughlin (Affleck) makes the right moves to sanctify in sacrifice.

Teamwork is essentially adorned with crucial combative exteriorized comeuppances as partner Dion Bartolo (Chris Messina) provides extrajudicial reckoning.

Idyllic forbidden rapturous love bountifully blossoms in different contexts while Joe comes to terms with his unheralded prestige.

A real-world high-level inevitability permeates each action but isn't enough to prevent thought from rationally entreating.

From using honest North American know-how to level-out the playing field.

There's just one problem.

It's too perfect.

All of its calculations and conversations are just plain-old too noble, too wonderful, everything works out too well, it's far too comfortable for a gangster film.

Some loose ends, please.

Instead of feeling worried or anxious or fearful or nervous I just felt complacent, there's no suspense, it was like I was watching a bright mathematician prove a trigonometric identity, or checking out reruns of a favourite dark family friendly show.

Live by Night explains why the term hardboiled was applied to books by Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett, or indirectly to films by John Huston or Howard Hawks.

Without the hardboiled aspect, you wind up with Live by Night.

Which I may have loved in my youth.

But couldn't get into mid-life.

HAMMER (Versus)

Tragedy strikes as petty jealousies potentially ruin the career of a self-sacrificing international mixed martial arts contender, but the love interest in question and an opportunistic manager make deals with that very same brat to save the career of their honourable true champion.

Yet the date of the sought after fight doesn't give him enough to heal, and one stiff blow could instantly kill him.

He bears this in mind and wilfully responds to the challenge, death in the ring being infinitely preferable than a lifetime passed having disappointed his fans.

His coach, trainer, and lover eventually accept his decision, having expressed their discontent, and realized their aid is paramount.

But the ring doesn't hold the Russian Hammer's (Aleksey Chadov) fiercest foe, as thugs try to force him to disreputably dive.

Egocentric extremities.

Illicit, unsound.

Patriots and psychotics perniciously square off to wield Russia's HAMMER (Versus), honesty and deception contending therewithin.

It's bare bones, built, direct, no pussyfooting around agendas with esoteric mumbo jumbo, just good guys stuck dealin' with wickedness, making the most of it, as a dedicated matter of principle.

It impeccably sticks to its straightforward format and actively achieves its combative goals.

I can't fault it for that.

But if Rocky's in Moscow, this film's still far east of the Urals, not to say writer Oleg Malovichko can't also reach such a goal, but it will take some time, more passion, deeper digging, and a laid-back blizzard stew.

Winter's coming.

Plenty of time to sit back and write.

*Original title, Versus.

Yi dai zong shi (The Grandmaster)

Reluctantly impenetrable, hesitant yet incomparable, Wing Chun Grandmaster Ip Man (Tony Leung Chiu Wai) invincibly materializes his compact modest integrity, within, flexibly counterpoised, internationally driven.

Kar Wai Wong's Yi dai zong shi (The Grandmaster) celebrates his life, highlighting both monumental challenges and athletic altercations, some likely coaxed from oral and written records of his legend, complexly diversifying the phenomenon of martial arts, woefully positioning a seductive feminine element.

The film's temperament complements his psyche as an invasion commandeers his financial resources and he's forced to relocate to Hong Kong, having refused to collaborate.

Confident, reticent, and didactic, it unreels as if silent while biographically contending.

His post-invasion love interest forges the film's romantic counterbalance as her tragic commensurable conception of honour unwittingly tantalizes.

A Master of the martial arts herself (Xingyi and Bagua), her farsighted father having permitted her to train, thereby breaking with tradition, her devotion to her admirable related vow therefore remains a point of principled controversy, unable to release her desire, celestially sustained.

Yi dai zong shi's final message reflects a pluralistic pedagogical ideal, one which emphasizes study and traditional fluctuation, without betraying one's sense of concrete socioindividualism.

An action-packed wise accessible film, poignant without reference to the austere, insurmountable and unfathomable, tenaciously breaking through the ages.

Sàidékè Balái (Warriors of the Rainbow: Seediq Bale) (Fantasia Fest 2012)

12 Indigenous tribes are living harmoniously amongst one another in the late-18th/early-19th century in the mountains of central Taiwan, when imperialist Japanese forces invade.

Their harmonious relations are highly aggressive inasmuch as manhood is achieved by cutting off the head of a member of a surrounding tribe.

The conquerors see things differently however and colonize said tribes in order to put them to work maximizing the economic potential of their natural resources.

Decades pass, and a once proud warrior culture is reduced to back breaking poorly paid labour, alcohol  abuse, suffocating ethnocentric taunts, and the systematic depletion of their ancestral hunting grounds.

And respect for their traditions is anathema.

Yet the knowledge that rebellion is akin to mass suicide keeps them at bay, until the situation proves too belittling to be endured forever after (no treaties whereby they could maintain their way of life were negotiated and signed).

And a revolt is launched.

The ways in which director Te-Sheng Wei depicts the revolt incontrovertibly turn one's stomach, as the legendary Mona Rudao (Da-Ching, Lin Ching-Tai) and his Mahebu people express their revenge.

Obviously I was cheering for the downtrodden Mahebu but my support was structurally challenged as they massacred every Japanese person in their village.

The challenge being the result of the generation of an internally cathartic traumatic absolutist aesthetic, which chaotically yet rationally glorifies battle while championing the enslaved, accompanied by a feminine voice singing a haunting lugubrious lament, working within and celebrating the traditions of the vanquished, without hesitating to showcase their warlike being.

A being which I'm not used to inductively digesting.

The rest of Sàidékè Balái (Warriors of the Rainbow: Seediq Bale) practically answers Camus's cliché contention that the only properly philosophical problem is suicide.

Assuming that's a cliché by now anyways.

And its response heroically illustrates the fearless spiritual will of a fierce uncompromising people, forced to adopt extreme methods, dedicated to their way of life, refusing to passively perish.

As time goes by.

Incendies

A notary public is tasked with delivering two cryptic letters from his former administrative assistant's will to her adult twin children, one mentioning the father they thought dead, the other, the brother they never knew they had. The children receive the letters with opposite reactions, Jeanne (Mélissa Désormeaux-Poulin) setting out to the Middle-East in search of her father, Simon (Maxim Gaudette) refusing to take them seriously. With hardly any corresponding information and no working knowledge of Arabic, Jeanne resiliently makes her way from cryptic clue to startling fact while encountering the cold face of historical prejudice. When Simon and the notary public (Rémy Girard as Jean Lebel) finally arrive, everyone comes closer to discovering the truth.

The narrative travels back and forth through time, presenting Jeanne and Simon's mother (Lubna Azabal as Nawal Marwan) as she struggles to survive, and her children as they try to piece her life together. At first I found this device frustrating, wanting to spend more time focusing on Jeanne and Simon and theorize my own version of Nawal's past through their discoveries. But as the stories blend together, the delicate pacing, intergenerational tracings, and temporal effacings stoically reinvest the concept of adventure with a spiritual intellectual assiduity that rarely vouchsafes its resplendent presence (editing by Monique Dartonne).

Not bad.

Delivering serendipitous facts and inevitable allusions which hauntingly dispossess the eternal return of the same, Denis Villeneuve's Incendies interrogates time by historically condensing its contemporary space. The definition of sacred is re-calibrated and dematerialized within, its semantic distinction fluidly overflowing.

And what is all this worth if not for a chance to pursue something distant and arcane?

Heatstroke and heartache and lambastes and pulsates.

Deep down.