Gojira (Godzilla)

In the original demonstroustive lobotomy, Godzilla haunts the forbidding seas, nuclear testing having enabled his reemergence, with fabled bellicose unfiltered brawn.

Ships begin to disappear and the mainland must take observant action, and indeed scientifically investigate the forlorn embattled terrified region.

Island legend warns of a giant-dinosaur-like-creature who once roamed the surrounding waters, in excruciating flagrant frenzy from time to time or epoch to epoch.

Upon arrival, noted scientists bask in prehistoric awe, as the colossal-beastie revels chaotically throughout the aggrieved distant locus.

ReBorn of nuclear experiment which greatly enhanced his body armour, invoking proclamations of invincibility throughout the industrious domain. 

Yet another disastrous weapon may be able to resoundingly sting however.

Its creator hesitant to deploy its hubris.

In light of fervent fee-fi-fo-fum.

Making much more of a tantalizing attempt to bombastically craft a compelling narrative, the first enraged Godzilla feature proceeds rather like a serious film.

Complete with a definitive way to radically save their island home, as opposed to the habitual acquiescence to Godzilla's unhinged distraught fury.

Reminding me at poignant points of ye olde Frankenstein or even Dracula,  there's much much more of a diabolical urge to effervescently ferment a legitimate film here.

With the incumbent scientist battling his will to painstakingly study the ancient beast, as it recklessly employs surreal embittered conspicuous contumacious brevity.

If only Godzilla had peacefully remained inattentively submerged below, and refused to unleash devastation at random upon the unsuspecting surface.

Nuclear experiment having audaciously mutated his once sedate and aloof spirit.

Grandiose ambition, ominous relief.

Fortuitous fuel. 

For so many sequels. 

The Dig

A forthright curious widow seeks to investigate ancient mounds, their presence a striking imaginative catalyst radiating mystery and fascination (Carey Mulligan as Edith Pretty).

A sturdy local excavator well-versed in trowel and spade, is eagerly sought after to conduct the dig personally (Ralph Fiennes as Basil Brown). 

He's archaeologically acclimatized and has learned his trade at home in the field, years of thoughtful constructive labour cultivating multivariable know-how.

He patiently sets to work unaware of what he'll find, it must be exciting to take part in such projects, blind trust generating vision.

He finds something.

It's big. It attracts the attention of the British Museum. Soon his modest dig is a going concern fraught with picturesque potential and rapscallion regard.

Interpersonal dynamics hedge various particular outcomes, love and romance intermingling, along with questions of birth and status.

World War II looms on the horizon with haunting chaotic disregard, members of the dig to be called up, others embracing resignéd sorrow.

It was Basil's work that discovered the treasure yet the upper echelons do not approve, since he's self-taught and lacks social standing, that hasn't been passed down through the haughty ages. 

A solemn film intriguingly attired humble examinations of quote and culture, feminine strength and adroit awareness revealing august historical resolve.

The entrepreneur can attain recognition as his or her sales demonstratively increase, even if they built their business from nothing and had no contacts moving things along (many thanks to the people who like reading me blogs).

Perhaps after they've become established and their determined workforce starts creating new ideas, the CEO or the president may take credit for their marketability.

But in Basil's case (not mine, I'm not playing some metaphorical game, perhaps there are some people who like my writing, that's cool, I'll continue doin' my best within a limited time frame), he was often associated with an institution, who at the time, from what I gather from the film, gave credit for discoveries to whomever was responsible for leading or financing the dig.

It's a simple matter of just creating a list of individuals involved and showcasing it as well in the museum, like film credits. It makes culture much more social. Much less feudally disposed.

But Basil's discovery in The Dig is made while leading his own private excavation, and the higher-ups still refuse to acknowledge him, likely calling him proud for hoping for recognition. 

It's an excellent film first rate drama I was beginning to forget what they're like 😜, I love action-adventure and sci-fi, but they still lack dramatic prestige.

There's nothing quite like sustained stoic resonance sombrely deconstructing perplexing absolutes.

Focused upon will front and centre.

Netflix continues to expand and impress.

*Great performances.

Das große Museum (The Great Museum)

Times change, tastes, values, preferences, the integrity of the historical, timeless traditional structural dialogues, infused with contemporary stakes, striking artistic aggregates, emboldened through the maintenance of legacies.

Jockeying for position.

The decisions, the finances, the personnel, Johannes Holzhausen's Das große Museum (The Great Museum) blending various aspects of the Kunsthistorisches's management, its daily operations, linoleum, labour, preservation, advertising, executive inputs, some of which I would have found ridiculous if I didn't find myself having similar thoughts from time to time, through toil, mango, to converse, to generate dialogues with distinct publics, discourses of origins architecturally articulated, the thought, the detail, the work, meticulously cultivated to instruct and impress, with so many objects to enrich and tantalize, aesthetics of merit and truth bask in transitory permanence.

Intellectually gifted.

Delicately crafted.

The film illuminates a broad compelling practical yet highly abstract organism, budgeting its lucrative life blood with issues of power and control, while capturing moments of leisure and play, as a transformation strides and breathes.

In terms of mischievously yet respectfully examining the inner workings of a museum's perpetual motion, Holzhausen succeeds, but the sense of refined innocent yet aloofly didactic exuberance transports it to another level, Das große Museum wisely reflecting its subject matter.

You don't have to like museums to love this film.

There's also a tie covered in bears.