The Elephant Man

A gentle soul, curious and thoughtful, is habitually tormented by another, who obscenely profits from his misery and spends next to nothing on his care or comfort.

The individual in question suffers from severe deformities which make him appear extraordinary, people wishing to marvel at his stunning difference and willing to pay for the chance to do so.

No one asks him for his opinion regarding his tragic state of affairs, he isn't consulted his steadfast approval is disregarded, ignored, disdained.

No one talks to him either in fact he's left voiceless and caged and isolated, confronting violence should he humbly protest his scathing chains and caustic fetters.

Fortunately, a kind and sympathetic promising young doctor learns of his struggles, and goes about freeing him from the carnival while searching for a permanent place of residence.

Mr. Merrick is then given the opportunity to calmly express himself and converse, his discussions and observations inquisitively demonstrating tender caring playful cognizance. 

For the first time in his life he's treated with respect and he wholesomely responds with innocent wonder.

As those seeking to exploit him discover his whereabouts.

And set about wildly profiteering. 

A young gifted director with one film to his credit was lovingly tasked with crafting The Elephant Man, David Lynch responding with incisive imagination which still resonates this postmodern day.

The just and the wicked frequently colliding in his chaotic campy down-home daring dramas, we find scenes scenarios that stretch throughout his work in their sophomore distillations in this film.

Is Dr. Frederick Treves who seeks to take away John Merrick's pain and let him live in mindful society, not unlike Special Agent Dale Cooper who genuinely cares for the residents of Twin Peaks?

Is the wretched slave-driver Bytes who makes his living spreading death and decay, harbingers of Frank Booth and Dick Laurent the Baron Harkonnen or the Killer Bob?

The dreamlike fascination with surreal storytelling far beyond what the scene depicts, amorphously anchors our innate curiosity as this early outing creatively transmits.

A good place to start if seeking to learn much much more about David Lynch the filmmaker, while sincerely taking requisite note that the path you're on will get much rockier.

At home with artistically embracing noble and unsettling offbeat emotions.

He spent his life contemplating holistic humanism.

In a bona fide theatre of debutant dreams. 

John Q

I'm happy that we have great health coverage in Canada and Québec, and I'm glad that everyone has access.

I'm glad my friends and family and neighbours can see a doctor or visit the hospital without having to pay out of pocket, and that the wide variety of services available continue to expand beyond limitation.

I know it's frustrating having to wait.

It would be nice if things moved more quickly.

But the services are still available and they're available across the board.

Watch Michael Moore's Sicko watch John Q check out the nightmare, awaiting the privatization of health services if there's less of an emphasis on public health.

Imagine you suddenly had to come up with over $200,000 to pay for medical bills, which the insurance plan you had paid into for your entire life wouldn't cover.

Imagine that if you couldn't come up with that money one of your loved ones would die.

Without public health this isn't a rare occurrence. 

Without universal health care it's par for the course.

Universal health care is a sign of enduring progress and practical community, a sustainable way to ensure widespread health at all times across the land.

If we can hire more doctors and invest in hospitals wait times should decrease, and more of our medical school graduates will find the jobs they've worked hard to get.

One of the big differences between private and public health care, as outlined in Maude Barlow's Too Close for Comfort, is that public health care workers put people before profits, while private health is more interested in money.

Thus, the private hospital sets a goal of profits to be earned in a specific month, and then sets about trying to earn them. If there's a shortfall come the 31st heads will roll and people will lose their jobs, hence services are cut for employment security's sake, as administrators with no medical knowledge try to save money. If they save money and produce higher profits the private board running the hospital is more impressed. Therefore, there's an impetus to be as cheap as possible while pretending to provide expert service.

In the public system people care about health and finding more efficient ways to take care of each other.

While providing access to all kinds of different specialists.

For a thriving culture.

It's a total win-win.

Green for Danger

Pejorative pressure, incredulous and puzzling, weighs heavy or a war torn team, tasked with stitching the sick and injured back together, while sublimating the anxiety and at times encouraging mischief, above and beyond heroic duty, panegyrical par for the caustic course.

Strong wilful personalities playfully contend with objective whimsy, habitual fatigue and interminable destruction rambunctiously relaying unjust brawl.

One slips is pushed too far their transgressions passing unnoticed at first, before bold proclamation startlingly upends the otherwise fanciful well-earned night off.

It turns out the inexplicable amplifications which disastrously brought about dire moribund reckonings, were not incidental to the regenerative cause, but in fact produced through murderous provocation.

Who has indeed perpetrated with primordial perfidy remains a compelling inconclusive mind-boggle?, which none other than Alastair Sim (Inspector Cockrill) himself has been tasked with definitively elucidating.

He's rather bumbly and indelicate as if crime-solving required smooth parlay, and irritates several members of the staff simply because he's undeniably enjoying himself.

His eccentric methods conceivably convince the doctors and nurses that he's quite mad.

But logical liaison is litigiously immersent. 

With modest mischievous disconsolate fun.

A rather odd setting for an offbeat comedy which efficaciously blends the austere and the radical, entirely dependent on your love of Sim and his personable vivacious uncanny rhythms. 

Perhaps somewhat like a theoretical blend of Robert Downey, Jr.'s Sherlock Holmes and Peter Sellers's Inspector Clouseau, even if it's easier to say "like none other", it's worth checking out what he brings to the role.

Stress and lassitude bilaterally converging to unhinge otherwise tranquil minds, there's no telling what such circumstances would engender, one is therefore duty bound to help prevent them.

Such a treasure trove of great detectives thoughtfully awaiting inquisitive minds, within the clever British cinema no doubt first cultivated by wide-reaching books.

I imagine at least that since Sherlock's origins are indeed British, he drives contemporary denizens in whatever age to write intricate spellbound murder mysteries.

Do cultural origins truly play such a role within national literary traditions, with international multivariability available if elastically eager and diplomatically drawn?

I know I certainly love animals and it's possible that comes from Canadian and Québecois orthodoxy.

Would I have loved them as much if I'd been born elsewhere?

I'd wager probably (they cute!).

Impossible to know! 

The Good Nurse

A dedicated nurse (Jessica Chastain as Amy Loughren), loyal and trustworthy, courageously works through a grievous illness, still unable to qualify for health insurance, she risks her life while raising her young.

She's often friendly and agreeable and willing to share her knowledge to help, as she does when a new colleague arrives (Eddie Redmayne as Charlie Cullen) who's uncertain of specific procedures.

After his sudden arrival mysterious deaths begin to take place however, the hospital trying to cover them up while law enforcement launches an investigation. 

The detectives can't get anywhere until interviewing Ms. Loughren when serendipity strikes, and they're surprisingly able to freely ask questions without being countermanded by obtuse anxiety. 

Their leads eventually suggest the new nurse may be deliberately murdering patients, but the hospital is so worried about avoiding scandal that they emphatically refuse to cooperate. 

Yet his newfound friendship has oddly bloomed and she's sympathetically gained his trust.

Will she be able to produce a confession?

Before he finds steady work in another hospital?

Life's strange and keeps getting stranger as developments which seem irrefutably truthful are lampooned with disgust.

A man's attacked and almost beaten to death with a hammer and days later it's a subject of amusement.

That's sick, utterly contemptible, and worse than that, for many it's acceptable, like the world I hoped for in my youth is a long way from seeing a 10-year conglomeration. 

Why are the lives of serial killers just as virally popular as those of human rights activists?, the void left behind by Hollywood's progressive ambitions eagerly filled by online streaming.

Are elitist attitudes so dismissive and haughty that literally millions would abandon democracy, in favour of an American monarch with absolute power over stunning diversity?

Look at the countries where dictators flourish, they aren't typically characterized by hearty abundance.

Autocrats do not share power.

It's not comic.

It's genuinely distressing. 

No Way Out

Senseless racist irrationality destructively wallowing away, after an African American doctor (Sidney Poitier as Dr. Luther Brooks) attempts to save a life, and his truly sick patient passes.

The doctor just joined the profession having recently passed a requisite exam, and even though he's confident enough to make decisions, he still seeks guidance from established professionals. 

When his patient arrived the other night Dr. Brooks didn't have much time to make the call, Mr. Biddle (Dick Paxton as Johnny Biddle) had been shot during an attempted robbery, and was desperately clinging to life.

Dr. Brooks made a call nevertheless which the patient's brother attentively witnessed (Richard Widmark), after tormenting the humble doctor because he was born with black skin.

After the patient passed, another doctor appeared in the room (Stephen McNally as Dr. Dan Wharton), and Dr. Brooks honestly stated he was confident he made the right decision, but unfortunately could have been mistaken.

The volatile brother heard their conversation and reacted with racist venom, claiming his brother was killed due to incompetence while severely critiquing Dr. Brooks's race.

The only way Dr. Brooks can prove his innocence is to have an autopsy performed on the body, but the autopsy can't be performed without the consent of the surviving brother.

Not only does he refuse to give his consent, he also calls up his thuglike friends, and gets them to plan an attack on the local black neighbourhood, the situation becoming more and more insane.

And it's all because a bright student boldly determined he would become a doctor, and put in the necessary years of hard work and study to eventually attain the role.

Racism's disastrous stubborn ignorance almost prevents his career from moving forward, as someone too blind to see anything but skin colour goes out of his way to ruin a life.

Equal opportunity for every race and any individual willing to heed the call, objective analysis isn't qualified by a doctor's ethnicity as emergency medical decisions are made.

Even after Dr. Brooks proves his innocence Mr. Biddle refuses to believe, and with the resurgence of racism in the public sphere, the mass irresponsibility is most distressing. 

No Way Out highlights the pitfalls of racism with shocking language and blunt compression, I was surprised to see this film was made in 1950, I didn't think they made such candid movies back then (when dealing with sensitive issues).

Even though I think they're incredibly irresponsible I can support an individual's right to not be vaccinated, it's their body and even if they're being passionately foolish (remember how wonderful it was when they announced they'd found a vaccine! [with additional vaccines coming later!]) we live in a democracy not a totalitarian state.  

But if their protests start waving the confederate flag and they start preventing local businesses from operating, while irritating local residents, I simply cannot support them: I can't support freedom as it promotes slavery. 

Dragonfly

Do voices from supernatural realms at times attempt to communicate with the terrestrially composed, is there something to be said for uncanny spiritual instincts without resorting to coincidence or mental illness, as Tom Shadyac's Dragonfly directly hypothesizes?

A lot of the time it seems like mumbo jumbo that can't be clarified or reasonably explained, even if it's supposed to exist beyond rationality and therefore isn't logically disposed. 

It's foolish to take the irrational seriously since believing in ghosts or the like can lead to folly, although it's fun to imagine they might exist while leaning towards the generally improbable. 

One trick is to consider the possibility of keeping an open yet skeptical mind, while always immediately denying its logical potential if someone starts asking for more than 10$.

I saw many an episode of America's Most Wanted as a lad where true believers were cheated out of tens of thousands, and it seemed like such a depressing waste considering the trusting hearts who took a faithful leap. 

I hate to see the innocent cheated especially when they're gentle and kind. Why people who prey on their humble instincts can't find something more constructive to do is beyond me.

Those humble instincts have persisted nevertheless after a century or so of scientific advancement, advancements that have found evidenced based factual reasons to validate so many practical truths.

As science proves more and more practical theories you would think religious belief would become more and more obsolete, but it still persists with resounding tenacity in many jurisdictions still spiritually composed.

It's like there's an innate drive residing in many to believe in the supernatural regardless of fact, and even if such a drive seems improbable, yet can still sometimes be fun, in the interests of democratic community, methinks it's best not to dismiss it.

Of course I tend to operate within a communal domain where there's mutual respect for opposing viewpoints, and improbability doesn't have the upper hand and isn't creating laws to dismiss science or pandemics accordingly.

I like to hear people tell stories so I'll listen as they narrate away, it's incredible the things some people say, the force of their convictions at times unsettling.

Just proving and dismissing everything with science can be incredibly boring too. Life needs a bit of excitement now and then that only werebears and vampires (etc.) can provide.

As long as you don't believe werebears and vampires are real and can find a practical metaphorical application for them.

Thus rationalizing fantasy.

To tell even more incredible stories.

With planned obsolescence and conflicting authenticities so much discourse sounds absurd (especially as you age).

But what's life without absurdity?

As long as it doesn't cost too much.

Five Feet Apart

Cloistered away in diagnostic retention, family and friends stopping by at times, the caring staff warmly dedicated to promoting cheer, the world wide web providing paramount community.

Emotions locked-down as intimate contact is forbidden, the sublimation of imaginative desires creates fantastic legend.

Fortunately she's no Obscurus, the desires unattainable but not maligned, and she responds with sprightly do-gooding, which acutely marks chill observation.

Others similarly afflicted become reliable confidants, their convivial theses and humorous charm laying the congenial groundwork for inclusive mischief.

But as fate would have it, or perhaps, lo and behold, one day the enigmatic emerges and cannot be idiosyncratically arrayed.

This bad boy of intensive care (Cole Sprouse as Will) ruffles feathers in strict amorous revel, and even though she's highly critical, Stella (Haley Lu Richardson) can't tear herself away.

The two forging a palliative dynamic.

That's as convalescent as it is ecstatic.

Hearts strung out like time-lapsed supernovas, they must remain Five Feet Apart at all times, a romantic interpretation of the convention, their budding awe saturated with robust feeling, their hesitation, as adorable as panda cupcakes.

The film isn't so bad.

It looked after-school-specially in the previews but I swear it's cinematically legit.

Perhaps they do break the rules somewhat foolishly, but they rarely do so while going too far.

With one ridiculous situation near the end, it would have been stronger with a less melodramatic climax.

Something less mortal.

More genuine.

Poe's (Moises Arias) character could have been treated differently too, for wouldn't it have been ironic to not focus on death in a film about young adults striving to live, wouldn't it have been fortuitous to celebrate joy without consequence in a film latently flush with sanguine grief?

It still celebrates joy nevertheless, and that's why it's so worth seeing, even if it slips up a bit, even if it could have been less dependent.

As Stella and Will fall in love at the hospital, slowly coming to terms with their eccentricities, it's as timid as it is unorthodox, like trying something new when you don't know what you're doing.

As tenderhearted as a mama bear, and as loving as ballroom impertinence, Five Feet Apart keeps the melodrama at bay, while crafting something coy and wonderful.

Death-defying romance.

Out of this world.

Dallas Buyers Club

When confronted with the gripping prospect of death, Dallas Buyers Club's Ron Woodroof (Matthew McConaughey) cursively refuses to back down.

Economically finding a way to prolong his counterintuitive friction, he proactively rides the bull, adjusting prejudicial preferences in the meantime, gesticulating, matriculating, stanced.

This ___ker knows how to rock a library.

He does his research, finds alternatives, makes hard decisions, goes into business, and proceeds to assist those who had been condescendingly written off.

The butterfly scene boils it down.

The film's straightforward yet punctual and provocative, brazenly tackling hard-hitting browbeaten issues of gender and sex, not to mention the pretensions of the American medical establishment, friendships and partnerships metamorphically blossoming, underground economies, financing the bloom.

Once again we find economic justifications for a more inclusive sociocultural dynamic, more customers, more profits, sustainable social programs, this time in the heart of Texas.

One of the most unlikeliest humanitarian activists I've seen.

His interests are initially individualistic, but he reaches higher ground throughout his transformation.

Possible oscar nomination for McConaughey?

Barbara

Declarative desire dedicatedly persists after state sanctioned seclusion silences its volatile temerity.

Another, resigned yet combative, is enamoured.

The fate of a rebellious young adult becomes a decisive tangible consequent as the Stasi's invasive pressure deliberately dehumanizes.

A doctor, emphatically refuses, to be muzzled.

Carefully contextualizing different varieties of tension, while diagnosing risk with surgical precision, Christian Petzold's Barbara internally serenades freedom of expression, and externalizes a crisp courageous spiritualization.

An extensive reactive multilateral engagement furtively negotiates an honest state of affairs.

Its interconnected inextricable professional, personal, romantic, governmental and (inter)national relationships foment a forlorn fugitive firmament wherein influential forces collaborate and contend.

Interrogating what it means to pursue.

Attempting to have their voices heard.