Jubilee

Queen Elizabeth I seeks direct knowledge of the future, and an accommodating angel is summoned, divinely endowed with prophetic precision he graciously enables clairvoyant caricatures, as they travel to a post-apocalyptic future feverishly enamoured with punk rock.

Strange to provide ahistorical comparisons between the alternative social constructs, but whereas the Queen monopolises power way back when, a media mogul exercises similar authority over yonder.

His friends characterize the past with random inspired proclamations, like a series of disgruntled spirited diatribes diabolically manifested through armageddon. 

Puzzling to the astonished Queen who takes it in with modest whimsy, somewhat shocked by the blatant contrasts but otherwise scientifically disposed.

The police have taken to violence and no longer put up with the slightest objection, quickly firing should constructive criticisms ever dare to voice concerns.

People discovered with nothing to do must endure underground lectures on various topics, an audience desired found within the streets where millions remain unemployed.

What can the bewildered Queen then boldly administer amongst her subjects?

To imagine alternative global paths.

Prominently incorporating widespread leisure. 

Treading imaginatively throughout time multivariable presents chaotically mingle, to effectively generate kinetic shards exuberantly coruscating wild endeavours.

Had the Queen spent more time delicately observing the tribulations of her stately epoch, perhaps the sensational uproars may have seemed less grandiose as semantically situated within composite streams.

Thoroughly saturated embellished beacons enthusiastically disseminating jocose hypotheses, not as devoutly determined by chronological forecasts much more individualistically composed. 

Like ye olde Lite Brite or David Lynch's picture to be found in another room, Jarman bedazzlingly creates improvised disharmonies through substantial recourse to extant obscurity. 

With good times endearingly awaiting the shape-shifting collectives in balm and friendship, indeed forging lackadaisical teams to fortuitously treasure infinite subjectivity. 

Carefree and unfortunately at odds with so many disciplined lavish demeanours.

Still unafraid to ebulliently exist.

Brilliant breaching.

Nebulous nerve. 

*Criterion keyword: freight. 

Polaris

Monopolistic claims to constellated starstruck legend, find themselves creatively trust-busted in Kirsten Carthew's wild Polaris.

The times are grim and perilous and other people are to be avoided, their habituated menacing murderous instincts bellicosely problematizing friendship.

Sumi (Viva Lee) was raised alone by a kind and compassionate polar bear, who taught her the life saving lessons of multidimensional deft ourskind.

One day while venturing forth they're accidentally separated however, and Sumi is captured by a group of plunderers who proceed to lock her in a cage.

Escape brings tribulation as she's tracked and targeted thereafter, a local fuel provider sympathetic (Muriel Dutil as Dee) but still unable to hold them off.

Could the individualistic warlike preponderance of bombastic sociocultural synchronicities, have transformed a once open-minded community into one prone to consistent bloodshed? 

Thus, even after the haunting end of multilaterally interconnected worldwide commerce, the unfortunate distrust still malignantly radiates where once warm and friendly community flourished.

Even in the isolated far north where food is more difficult to come by, and cohesive interactive communal initiatives seem more requisite to widespread health. 

Even with manifold orchards and farms is it not more prosperous to work in groups, to encourage nutrition and fight off hunger and generally work to holistically prosper?

Conflict does seem to abound as people seek to lead and emphatically pair bond, but do these conflicts need to be inherently destructive or could such impulses be proactively tamed?

You see it in Ghibli's Pompoko where the warlike raccoon attempts to take hold, or in ye olde Dances with Wolves where Wes Studi's brethren lament his aggression. 

Look to Germany in 1946 where I've heard people had to eat wallpaper to survive. That's the end game of fascism. That's where warlike tendencies lead.

I still don't think they could transform the North to such inhospitable despondent degrees, although Ofelas (Pathfinder) tells a much different story, and Russia is currently monstrously expressing itself.

Why not work together to secure food and shelter to mutually accommodate throughout the winter, rather than squandering precious resources on endless conflicts which produce nothing?

I'm not trying to jinx myself here but if you're active during the winter, it's a wonderfully productive time where you can get so much compelling work done.

If people are trying to trick you into embracing the belligerent lifestyle ask yourself what do they hope to gain?

And is your life worth lining their duplicitous pockets?

As they horde the profits for themselves?

Newsflash: it's not. It never will be. Read books. Be critical. 

Beware of the cult of Putin. 

And the North American obsession with Trump. 

*I rarring!

**The poster's awesome.