Over the Top

A father regrets having left his family behind and finally has the chance to make amends, travelling by rig to his son's private school, humbly prepared for probable conflict (Sylvester Stallone as Lincoln Hawk). 

He makes his living trucking on the wide open road, transporting vital goods from one feisty locale to the next, reputedly dependable indeed sure and steady, as he smoothly facilitates commerce across North America.

His son's (David Mendenhall as Michael) not impressed however for it's taken him years to pull things together, and his grandfather's (Robert Loggia) vilified him to the extreme, their voyage commences in heated dispute.

But Lincoln relaxes and goes with the flow aware their disagreements reflect his comeuppance, time passing acclimatization slowly etherealizing paternal reckoning. 

But gramps is madly infuriated and sets out to recover his lost grandchild, determined to see him grow up in the lynchpin of luxury far away from his cheque-to-cheque dad.

But paps excels at the art of arm wrestling, and can earn extra scratch on the side, accepting challenges at various truck stops as he journeys between destinations. 

Michael is taken away and Lincoln responds with tactile fury.

But it seems there's nothing he can do.

Put formidably pursue arm wrestling champion of the world.

The narrative uplifts the hands-on with practical hardboiled uncompromised life lessons, forgiveness sought and willing to be earned should familial recourse prove adaptable. 

It emphasizes responsibility in an honourable testament to tenacious capacity, celebrating confidence within bitter circumstances and integral boisterous reasonable wherewithal. 

Lavish absolutist pretensions encounter audacious freeform contradiction, but as they legalistically reassert themselves, flourishing innocence launches a second wave.

It's direct straightforward durable investigation presented with resolute luminous tact, inherent action spiritually reconciled with compassionate justice and an honest living.

You could argue that it suggests wealth crushes struggling ambition as that ambition earnestly seeks justified rights, leaving it with no alternative but to sell everything and gamble with the resultant proceeds.

But Lincoln's son was on his way back in stern refutation of his arrogant confines, and likely would have established a strong relationship with his father despite the law and his grandfather's wishes.

Perfect to sit back and relax while saluting Stallone's classic lack of pretension.

Not on par with Rocky or First Blood but still another entertaining take on daring will. 

Tango & Cash

Two exceptional cops pursuing justice in L.A, the press following their daring exploits, local ne'er do wells unimpressed.

They usually get-'er-done without relying on standard procedure, their results curtailing grand transgressions, their methods critiqued with aggrieved resolve.

They wind up causing so much commotion that they're targeted with cunning foresight, a crime boss thinking it foolish to murder them, preferring to see them locked up instead.

Tango (Sylvester Stallone) is prim and polished if not somewhat bold and reckless, employing formal codes of conduct in both random discussions and choice of attire.

Cash (Kurt Russell) pursues law and order with more passionate critical zeal, unconcerned with upper crust etiquette while expressing himself with enthused vitriol.

A disputatious team polemically and audaciously emerges, as they're both sent to a rowdy prison where they've crossed paths with many an inmate.

Unfortunately for them, the prison guards and much of the administration have been bought by the very same adversary, who was responsible for framing them beforehand, and even stops by to see them electrocuted (Jack Palance as Yves Perret).

Their only chance is escape back at it within the world at large. 

The force reluctant to rearrest them.

At least for 48 hours.

Stallone and Russell actively deliver a fast paced energetic vortex, like a hyperreactive embargo fluidly reverberating high stakes stasis.

From the way it's presented you'd think it's as lucid as hands-on practical exoteric reckoning, if something crazy didn't happen every five minutes to keep the wild plot counterpoising on.

Indeed I wondered if they were characters from a comic book I'd never heard of at times, the entertaining over-the-top scenarios innately fantastic phenomenonally spawned.

If it had been made in the 21st century it likely would have had multiple sequels, it's hard to imagine they didn't make another one, but it was released before the internet and Netflix.

Perhaps that's for the best since it does go way too far, in terms of cowboy cops using brazen violence to achieve jurisprudent ends.

At times anti-immigrant sentiment also bursts forth, and rehabilitative prison goals are directly scrutinized.

I'm afraid I'll have to argue that this one's too prone to discipline and punishment, take a couple of lines out and it's much improved, too sensational for its feigned reasonability.

Daring cop drama tainted by excessive force, lockdowns, and xenophobia, still cool to see Russell and Stallone at odds, they've made many chill films, this one's just too outrageous. 

L'Âge des Ténèbres

There you have it. You're 29. You don't have a job. You're in school hoping you will find a job when your program is finished, but, more importantly, hoping you do not end up as despondent as Jean-Marc Leblanc (Marc Labrèche) in Denys Arcand's new film L'Âge des Ténèbres (after having found that job in the years to come). Jean-Marc has grown tired of existence, of being married to the top third realtor in the country, of his children, of his government job (where he can’t help people solve their problems), every day, amidst Feng Shui interventions, language hearings, motivational speakers, hard times for being late after an hour and a half commute: and his mother is dying. Things are pretty bleak, and, rather than doing anything about it, he's escaped into dreamland, wonderful daydreams, distracting daydreams, where he is emperor, writing famous novels, appearing on television, randy, promiscuous. But his ennui's so intense he can't even daydream successfully and his banal reality cripples his reveries as well. Very sad. Very pessimistic. Also, occasionally funny.

Arcand's film is dense and scathing. "We can characterize our times with one word: disintegration." "We have no answers for you. Your lives are to complicated, the situation to complex." The cynicism that dominates much of L'Âge des Ténèbres criticizes government departments, health care provision, the nuclear family, public school, municipal by-laws, bureaucratic strategies, linguistic authorities, road rage . . . It's difficult to know whether or not the focus is ironic, poking fun at 'gloom and doom' "this is what's wrong with society" people, genuine, trying to instigate political change, intentionally bleak, allegorically accentuating the realities of Leblanc's castrated lifestyle, or a synthesis of the previously mentioned options, spiraling and reverberating within a tragic, comedic vortex. The commoner must face the realities of his boast. The main purpose of a bureaucracy is to ensure its continuing survival. Is 'genuine' communication forged by a union of souls or a random physical action?

The film's complex, presenting unsettling realities in a fantastic frame. But what political system isn't overrun with legal inconsistencies and bureaucratic redundancy, and how does one go about addressing these issues in a practical manner (which is perhaps the principle point)? Nevertheless, L'Âge des Ténèbres presents insightful observations concerning complex social, ethical and political paradigms, competently portraying a convoluted cultural mosaic with delicate vulgarity and humourous solemnity.

What happens after Leblanc's wife takes off for Toronto is impressive. The lines uttered by Leblanc's co-workers are impressive. The film’s impressive. Even if it's a bit overwrought, the multi-dimensional remainder of L'Âge des Ténèbres illuminates the brightest intellectual darkness I've seen in a while, reminiscent of Five Easy Pieces, Falling Down, American Beauty and Billy Liar, ironically titled, considering its impact.

La Brunante

One of the strongest films I've seen recently is Fernand Dansereau's La Brunante, a touching examination of an elderly Québecois woman's struggle with Alzheimer's disease. After discovering she has Alzheimer’s, the volatile Madeleine (Monique Mercure) decides to tour Québec one last time, visiting friends and family while contemplating suicide. In order to embark, she requires a driver, and fate provides her with Zoé (Suzanne Clément), a proud 32-year old down on her luck musician. The two travel throughout Montréal, Québec, and the Gaspé, entertaining each other's tempers and eccentricities. A tenacious dynamic is forged, and its shenanigans fuel La Brunante with an elegant, visceral, mischievousness, both hard-boiled and romantic, that critically and effectively examines the concept of Age. Just what is an epiphyte?, how does one procure cheap expensive wine?, how closely aligned are the concepts memory and identity? La Brunante explores these questions with subtle wit and jaunty resplendency, expertly illuminating the mysteries of life.