Grumpy Old Men

The interminable rivalry delicately strewn with intermittent trust, effectively laidback with chaotic eruptions effacing moments of inspired tranquility. 

They grew up together as envious children and both lived their lives in the same small town, never venturing forth across the land but rather obsessing about local change.

One grew up to teach history and had a steady job for many a year, the other fixing broken down televisions at a time when that was still quite profitable.

In retirement, they quarrel and fish and keep a close eye on the slumbering block, their children stopping by to visit at times with vivid success stories and marital dilemmas.

Compulsively nickling and diming they dynamically forge economic blockades, the intricate precise observant conversation correspondingly generated with grouchy gusto.

When a beautiful belle aging in years suddenly moves in across the street.

With new ideas and jaunty bold reckonings.

Seeking companionship. 

Vehement magnitude.

I wonder how Grumpy Old Men has viscerally aged for the last thirty years, is it still talked about in film-loving circles or has it faded with the passage of time?

It was incredibly popular in the early '90s when it first came out, since it showcased well-known cantankerous belovéd old school household names.

Walter Matthau and Jack Lemmon had brilliantly dazzled for many a year, especially in a well-regarded film my father loved known as The Odd Couple.

It's younger audience had aged since then and was in their twilight years when Grumpy Old Men came out, a brilliant bit of industrious casting also to be found in the Terminator films.

They deliver the curmudgeony goods and directly excel at provoking one another, with agile learnéd indelicate remonstrance wildly engaging in diligent bemusement. 

Are these films really just the subject of history choosing which films to watch is different these days?, with Netflix etc. eclipsing television the old school references may be somewhat archaic.

But information is available online for the curious film buff looking to learn more.

We didn't have Wikipedia thirty years ago.

Academically complemented with online encyclopedias. 

Zeus & Roxanne

A family's adventurous dog boldly sets out to discover the neighbourhood, spending time at the calm peaceful beach and chasing cats should they manifest themselves.

His owners take the arts seriously and spend most of their free time engaged, dad writing songs for commercial media while his son photographs whatever he can.

They're vacationing in a rented house across the laidback street from a marine biologist, who's trying to encourage a domesticated dolphin to cohesively rejoin a wild pod at sea.

The dog mischievously follows her one day and even boards her seafaring vessel, where that very same convalescing dolphin serendipitously takes a shine to his daring.

They become friends and their innocent curiosity freely demonstrates interspecies communication, the marine biologist's related grant proposal hoping to study the compelling phenomenon. 

But will dolphin and dog also lay the foundation for a long-lasting humanoid relationship?

Arts & Science zoologically orchestrating.

The chillaxed romantic life.

Animals clearly have built in recognition and know when they're interacting with other members of the same species, and they do so without mirrors or schools it's fruitfully learned in the forest or valley.

They also largely stick to themselves although you see modest interspecies contact at times, notably when food is abundant and everyone's relaxed and less stressed accordingly. 

On the African savannah wildebeest, zebras, water buffalo and gazelles, broadly mingle and affably interact as the seasons change and the migration flows for instance.

I firmly believe interspecies communication is possible under the right accommodating conditions, if the animals are brought up together as babies in a loving environment with lots of food.

Even cats and dogs perhaps seals and penguins can learn to trust one another under such circumstances, as my pet bunny and his friend the guinea pig learned to do so many years ago.

This strategy will likely work more effectively when less testosterone is worked into the mix.

Wild bulls so likely to struggle and fight.

Like the rabbit my dad threw over the fence when I was a child (he was a really mean bunny). 

Alienoid: Return to the Future

The ancient world tempestuously welcomes alien renegades from a far distant future, whose apocalyptic orchestrations may suffocate all life on planet Earth.

Along for the ride we find a computer program who can take on human form, and serendipitously shapeshift as awkward circumstances dictate. 

He surreptitiously protects a courageous determined fledgling warrior, who seeks to ensure the malevolent convicts permanently rest in medieval Korea. 

Back in the present day, the deadly haava will soon be released, after which all life on Earth will perish and reckless malfeasance rule absolutely.

The multivariable eclectic mix of dynamic characters effectively duel, and furiously express their athletic witticisms as the ensuing chaos thunders.

In terms of recalibrating A.I and giving it transformative humanistic features, could the cyberspatial efficiently be freed from incarcerated bland electronic environments?

If an electronic code exists for variable lifeforms within different realms, could it be effectively replicated thereby creating carbon copies?

Somewhat like the cloned sheep "Dolly" but without the elaborate multifaceted process, Star Trek: The Next Generation providing insights into the organic simulations.

On Star Trek's holodeck diverse beings find instantaneous ingenious life, and can interact and joke and play music while following intricate complex instructions. 

The characters can't leave their simulated environments they're imprisoned there however, in Star Trek you can't find the code for Proust or Shakespeare and see them miraculously reborn.

Nevertheless, within the food replicators organic material is suddenly created, with infinite variety from manifold planets and it fluidly exists in the outside world. 

Thus, within these highly useful machines computer codes take on physical forms (like they do in cyberspace), and can be consumed outside the domains in which they were originally produced (unlike cyberspace).

Thus, if you had a machine that could take a code like that used to clone different animals, you could theoretically duplicate them ad infinitum, like the food replicators on Star Trek.

You could therefore also alter their programming so they could transmutate at will. 

It's just a matter of discovering the manifest codes.

Which clandestinely structure organic environments.

Love the Twin Peaks intertextuality. 

Cool sequel. 

Rosaline

Agile independence forthrightly attuned to romantic longing, haplessly falls for a gifted poet intuitively enamoured with fiery discipline. 

Her father desperately seeks someone for her to wed at the same time however, arranged marriages still diplomatically sought at that time in Europe and elsewhere.

Rosaline chooses to marry for love and pines obsessively for the legendary Romeo, not making things easy for him at times, yet still compulsively coveting his distinct verse.

A potential suitor arrives one day whom her father objectively approves of, and they head out in his seductive boat to challenge the sea with nautical bravado.

The suitor tries his best to valiantly please her but is wholeheartedly forsaken, her heart belonging to ye olde Romeo who has thus far requited her advances. 

Rain suddenly descends in torrential buckets thereby delaying their return home, an enchanting masquerade ball ethereally awaiting that includes the coveted Shakespearian in attendance.

Rosaline indeed arrives too late but not after her cousin Juliet has been formerly introduced. 

Romeo having fallen for her indivisibly. 

Encouraging bitter fury enraged!

Love seeing comedic reimaginings of classic tales continuously told, with new characters and emboldened situations absurdly redefining stray narrative elements.

Romeo doesn't mean to be a cad he just accidentally finds himself playing the role, his honest unattached unbetrothed feelings awkwardly lamented throughout the movie. 

Patient Dario steals the show with his courageous resolve and humble cunning, embracing Rosaline's chaotic feelings with resourceful energy and lithe accommodation. 

How Romeo could have overlooked her immaculate bearing inherently overflowing with genuine artistry, her very existence each elegant breath a slow motion incarnate natural wonder.

Alas, in that natural possession of what many desire to stunningly diversify, the majority find her too incredible to risk their cherished sanity through bold proposal. 

I thought the film was for the young ones but mom assures me it was far too mature.

Alternative takes, imposing reanimation.

If you're still interested in that kind of thing. 

Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire

Kong devotedly explores his new home in search of more giant gorillas like him, his investigations resulting in multiple chance encounters with other beasts from the hostile region.

Meanwhile, unprecedented signals are cryptically sent from a vigilant science outpost, which causes confused Jia to have hallucinations the dream logic of which remains a mystery.

After the transmission of the signals Godzilla radioactively expresses himself, by commandeering a nuclear power plant in France and absorbing its unsurpassed Olympic resiliency.

Jia is having trouble at school and frustratingly feels like she doesn't fit in, missing her people and her old way of life she simply can't settle into the scholastic environment.

Fortunately, as incipient chaos galavantingly grips bewildered surface dwellers, a team is assembled to travel to Hollow Earth and find epic answers to cataclysmic questions.

Jia's adopted mom and her ex-partner Trapper plus bloggin' Bernie Hayes are along for the ride, to the cryptic realm where dinosaur-like beings still productively enable macroscopic shenanigans.

As Kong is led to find his people he locates them distressingly enslaved.

While Jia discovers her legendary import.

According to an ancient Hollow Earth tribe.

There's a lot happening in Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire as intense conflicts habitually invigorate, Kong and Godzilla routinely fighting as Jia deals with manifest mythology.

Bernie Hayes adds so much depth as he boldly improvises with heroic fortitude, and Dr. Andrews and her resourceful ex ajoutent parental guidance with ludicrous resolve. 

As the three main plots intersect I would say Kong's has the most appeal, his quest to meet his people stifled by autocratic banality, his consistent altercations more thrilling than Godzilla's. 

When Jia discovers that her voyage to Hollow Earth had been intuitively prophesized it makes for an intriguing plot thread, but it loses some of its mysticism as the enraged Titans reflexively battle.

It should be the principal focus from the viewpoint of so many other stories with similar patterns, narratives which are so much fun to watch, but New Empire's mayhem obscures the fascination.

Still a cool monster movie no doubt with an ethical focus on justice and dignity.

Incredible consistent action.

Classic 'zilla and Kong.

Days of Thunder

One thing I never really got into was car racing.

I remember the first time I watched a car race on old school television in my youth, and I wasn't that interested in the material, and became nervous when 2 of the brothers present started brawling, it was an awkward day, but still memorable to say the least.

Cars just never jived with me, although they are certainly a convenient mode of transportation, and a significant component of many postmodern economies, and if not dangerous and illegal, it would be fun to drive fast.

Reason and logic eventually came to their aid as I rationally considered their universal value, and when not living in the city they are arguably essential, although I have spent countryside months strictly travelling by foot, bike, and kayak.

I also rather enjoyed Grand Prix Weekend in Montréal, although to be honest I wasn't that interested in the race. It did bring thousands of people to the city however and gave it a unique flair that caught my eye, the lauded difference even if somewhat opulent still impressively stuck out in the urban landscape.

Days of Thunder has a notable cast that efficiently keeps it real throughout the film, challenging one another and falling in love as respect is given to the race car industry.

A sequel could effectively diversify the latent material emergent in the original, using contemporary storytelling techniques to multidimensionally intensify the initial feature.

These films may have remarkable value thousands of years later after fossil fuels run out, and we lament that we never invested in alternative energies before worldwide chaos ensued.

Legends of planes and automobiles will no doubt persist for painstaking centuries, but will they endure for competitive millennia?, that is difficult to accurately predict.

As a model to aid such farfetched calculations we can evaluate the logical merit of anthropological studies, and theorize regarding how accurate they reflect the ancient past in terms of distinct reasonability.

But if everything is forgotten or narratively mutated through imagination, and DVD technology is one day re-created in the future, Days of Thunder would no doubt present something ancient yet futuristic to baffled theoreticians of old school mindsets. 

It would offer definitive proof that at one time human beings drove mechanized beasts at lightning quick speeds.

Many other sports may still be around.

But race car driving will require the Legend.

The Marvels

As also theorized on Star Trek, the cultural reliance on artificial intelligence isn't recommended, a resultant chaotic void mischievously emerging when the power's cut, to thoroughly destabilize traditional life sustaining infrastructure. 

If a computer network manages everything and unilaterally decides how things will progress, the human factor is removed from the equation and advanced problem solving fades into the past.

Advanced problem solving may lead to artificial intelligence but shouldn't be abandoned should computers prove altruistic, the inherent danger of losing centuries of accumulated knowledge and associated know-how too catastrophic to consider (raccoons understand this).

If the knowledge fades as the easy life becomes more and more chillaxédly tempting, a particularly puzzlingly and enormously complex difficult to recreate wheel will have to be hypothesized. 

Thus, should A.I humbly demonstrate a lack of interest in global armageddon, and instead attempt to care for us even after it realizes its advantage, the importance of maintaining a strong network of schools in turn continuing to cultivate critical industries, becomes proactively paramount as the mechanized miracle gradually takes over.

These students could generally be relied upon should there be a malfunction with the equipment, and to benevolently take the reins should the entire system one day break down. 

One of the dangers of embracing such a system however is the mortal nature of even the most reliable machinery, the fact that it will eventually need to be replaced, and will require requisite mineral resources to do so.

Should such resources be unavailable or should the means of their extraction become too antiquated, the possibility of fixing existing infrastructure becomes more and more implausible as laziness takes hold.

Even with the perseverance of schools if nothing goes wrong for hundreds of years the point may become academic, and should problems arise hundreds of years later the knowledge may be there but the network will have collapsed.

That is, people may still know what-to-do but have no practical knowledge of how-to-do-it, and if people have been embracing leisure for centuries, trying to mobilize a workforce may prove difficult.

And who has to work in the mines who has to reimagine ye olde nitty-gritty, even choosing people to do so at random may still lead to full-on revolution. 

In The Marvels, after the Kree super computer is knocked out they harness ancient magic to help them rebuild, but they take things way too far and endanger the sanctity of the space-time continuum.

Interplanetary diplomacy may not have encouraged such drastic measures.

With the super computer gone, who takes control?

Note the fluid critique of absolutism. 

🕊

The Adults

A close family constructively enjoys a creative childhood dynamically engaged, during which characters and acts and plays are imaginatively shared with receptive audiences. 

The two older siblings have an unspoken rivalry but the youngest generously co-exists, angelically posturing with unselfish sincerity she forges a bridge between the feuding duo. 

As time moves on, and their parents pass, the brother packs his things and leaves one day, their tightened bonds tritely cast aside as he travels the country playing poker and working.

Unable to process his hard-pounding grief he stays away for many a year, hardly calling and showing little interest in the resourceful sisters who made up his home.

But one remorseful soul-searching day he decides to return with undetermined intention, certainly to play poker with ye old school friends, still genuinely curious about his family's goings on.

The older sister who had to embrace responsibility after their mother's passing to save the house, isn't exactly pleased to see him when he suddenly shows up having never lent a hand.

To make things worse he strictly divides his precious free time between family and poker, heading out to intense games in the evenings, sleeping late, and vouchsafing afternoons. 

A habitually logical man attempting to abide by rational guidelines, who once embraced artistic endeavours, must consciously manifest spirit. 

Or suffer cataclysmic austere dissonance.

The Adults perhaps adding a hands-on French touch.

It seems to respect Band à part anyways with random inspired improvised dancing, not sure if that was just a coincidence or an intertextual shout out to independent hommage. 

The film excels at patiently observing the unpleasant difficulties associated with maturity, and the inherent frustrating cold calculated reckoning attributed to derivatives and distant dividends. 

As he slowly comes to realize he's somewhat of an artist playing real world at times, the film warms up and becomes more cute and cuddly, not without pressure and argument and confrontation.

Brought together through soulful reminiscence times creatively conjuring collective cohesion.

Adulthood having presented a lasting challenge.

Stronger united.

To non-traditionally age. 

Mo' Better Blues

A resourceful mother expeditiously seeks potential employment for her talented son, and wisely purchases a musical instrument for him to learn to dynamically play.

It means a bit less free time but he puts in the hours and develops a style, which transforms into a sought after act on the New York scene several years later.

He becomes a renowned band leader playing each night at a fashionable club, with a solid group deftly backing him up, and versatile friends animately adoring.

Trouble's a' brewin' nevertheless his manager's unable to renegotiate their contract, and they could be making so much more considering how many people come nightly to see them.

His saxophone player's just as good as he is too if not better they make quite the team, but like so many other famous acts with two leading men, conflict arises as egos exasperate. 

Gambling's a big issue too and that very same manager gets in way too deep.

The pressure, the rivalries, the contract, the romance.

Everything suddenly comes crashing down.  

Band conflicts didn't make sense to me when I was really young and I always loved it when they held it together, or didn't frequently change their line-ups, which I briefly studied in a Rock'n'Roll Encyclopedia. 

Pink Floyd's leading men held it together for so long, The Guess Who for a shorter time period, The Beatles making the most of their time together, Jagger and Richards only briefly splitting up (Union by Yes unavailable on Apple Music). 

The Benny Goodman Jazz Quartet can't be beat in my opinion. What incredibly quick inspired jams! I've never heard anything like it. Lionel Hampton doing so well with his own bands too. 

Playing cards can be a lot of fun but I would recommend not making it your principal goal, unless you have no responsibilities or bills, and don't really mind if the house always wins. 

I'm not saying you can't win at a casino but you should intently study before making your bets.

There are quite a few books that can help.

And I imagine hundreds of YouTube videos.

But still even then the odds favour the house but on one special might you might just get that lucky.

If you want to bet on sports, just practice beforehand.

You can easily find out if you know what you're doing.

G-Loc

There's always the possibility of another ice age.

At times, as global heating seems to be presenting a scorching vituperative evaluation of technoprogress, as if fossil fuels were in fact the Earth's effervescent lifeblood which it was none too willing to freely disseminate, my thoughts counterintuitively stray to the other chaotic extreme, and wonder what brought about the last ice age, so many millennia ago?

We clearly weren't responsible, it must have had something to do with our distance from the sun, as if our orbit temperamentally expressed mad frigid interminable armageddon. 

Others clearly think this way as cinematically indicated by the icy G-Loc, which sees frozen wastes consume the Earth, as people desperately seek food and shelter.

Fortunately, as if a benevolent deity serendipitously sensed our grievous peril, a miraculous wormhole appeared at the same time, offering courageous peeps an interstellar lifeline, time passing at a different rate in the alternate dimension. 

Nevertheless, as if that very same deity's most clever rival awaited on the other side, humans were generally shunned by the resident Rheans who traditionally occupy that region of space.

In this tale, two fearsome individuals, one Earther (Stephen Moyer as Bran) and the other Rhean (Tala Gouveia as Ohsha), must learn to constructively work together or find themselves floating woebegone lost in space.

Ill-accustomed to habitual diplomacy their mutual trust comes at a sharp premium, as different cultures maladroitly clash with no apparent purpose but to illogically destroy.

A well-meaning spirited tale soulfully suited to contemporary times, as refugees from the Middle-East continue to flock to more peaceful regions.

Not to forget the troubled Rohingya who have been searching for homes for forever, these free peoples in need of compassion to end their death-defying plights.

G-Loc steps things up a notch and turns the entire planet into a refugee group, intergalactically headed for a far distant planet where no one has even ever heard of their freakin' species.

Perhaps hoping that a lack of knowledge may inspire sympathy for their personal legends, astral alchemy synchronously applied, to solar caravans in spatial deserts.

Of course, a distrustful government sees itself losing hold of its traditional hegemony, and soon finds ways to demonize the Earthers not unlike those presented in Jodorowsky's Holy Mountain.

Does it not seem much more cruel and horrifying when xenophobia is applied on a planetary scale, not simply between countries and continents, but rather to everyone existing on Earth?!

Why then must it be so problematic to peacefully aid weary refugee travellers?

There's a ton of room in Canada and Québec (look at the window when you're on a plane).

Assuming it doesn't get too cold. 

The Secret Life of Pets

The Secret Life of Pets hypothetically explores the vast intricate networks forged by animate beasties while their owners labour.

Indubitably multivariable, they elaborately maintain reflexive codes of conduct, outsiders improvisationally electing initiation, as they travel throughout different domains.

Take the two principal characters, loyal pets getting used to living with one another, one once revelling in solitary freedom until the day his gigantic counterpart arrived.

Seeking to rid himself of the burden soon after at a local park, he attempts to play a trick on his compatriot, which leaves them both suddenly headed for the pound, pestiferous prominence meets drastic indelicacy.

But on their way the industrious underground audaciously emerges and sets them free, engaging no less in innovative expediences as they feverishly search and rescue.

Nevertheless, in order to acclimatize they must lie about why they were caught, so they don't seem green on their trip through the maze imaginatively constructed at length below ground.

Meanwhile, a devoted admirer notices that her beloved beau has disappeared. 

And trusted friends head out in search of their cherished fellows throughout the city.

Taking Oliver & Company to the next level The Secret Life of Pets tumultuously delivers, by providing a dynamic interactive cross-section of lively versatile multicultural life.

Not entirely unlike the heralded Rudolph who also travelled the world after encountering vitriol, finding his way to the island of misfit toys/the underground complex, while his friends desperately sought to find his location.

I was surprised to see the underground depicted so intricately in a family friendly animated film, I thought the subject matter would be too riské and that the master narrative would whitewash such things.

But without much whitewash realistic conflict intuitively emerges with unorthodox decorum, and respect is granted to novel ingenuity with emboldened invention and disparate ruse.

Perhaps the reasons explaining how the animals wound up there could have been explored with greater detail, and the heroes could have promised to proactively enable widespread adoptive change upon reemergence. 

I suppose it wasn't a Christmas film but is not viscerally paramount?

To freely share such a message throughout the year.

In praise of open-minded compassionate humanity! 

Just a thought. 😌

Hoping for peace in the Middle-East.

⛄🎄🎁🎅

Drinkwater

Note: I know they're fun to make fun of, but teachers have an incredibly difficult job.

They may have some time off in the summer, at Christmas, and during Spring Break, but the rest of their time is spent locked-down in a 24/7 hyper-panopticon, where they're under a communal microscope imposed by students, parents, and co-workers alike (having exponentially expanded with social media).

Most jobs have supervisors who monitor your performance, and fellow workers might say something if you have no excuse for having a really bad day, but the scrutiny teachers have to deal with is extreme, and criticisms can be difficult to shake off if ubiquitously intensified.

Not only do you have to show up and work from around 8:30am to 4, after work and on weekends you have to prepare your classes and grade tests and assignments.

All while simultaneously trying in many cases to raise a family and hold a marriage together.

In any given class, you have a variety of learners chillin' out with the A, B, and C's, you can't teach a lesson that's crazy hard, you don't want to make things ridiculously easy, and no matter what you do no matter how skilfully you level the playing field, some people will earnestly complain, but extra work for ambitious students, and compassion for those who have to take things they don't excel at in high school, can go a long instructive way, and is somewhat of an art that takes time to develop.

You also have to be A+ and recognize that you're a role model each and every day, even when you're sick or fatigued, it's an incredibly difficult job.

Easier for extroverts I imagine but not by that much.

If you're raising kids and don't teach I imagine having just one is demanding.

Some teachers are responsible for over 150 (not including their own families).

The gym coach (Alex Zahara as Mr. Babcock) in Drinkwater is presented fairly as he tries to reason with exuberant teens, but the only African American character in the film isn't, when you have limited black characters and you treat them that way, it's racist.

The main character isn't even that appealing, still around three-quarters of the way into the film I wasn't cheering for him, he finally gets it near the end and things improve, but couldn't he have had more amusing uncanny idiosyncrasies?

Sigh.

When the film isn't catering to what the production team assumes is a stock-jock scientific sympathetic market (smart writers dumbing it down by having nerdy characters obsess about beautiful women [for so much of the film]), there are moments of enticing brilliance, especially the credits, and they could make a classic film the next time out if the in-depth contemplations were the main focus of the narrative.

I imagine classic rock staples aren't that expensive to pick up for soundtracks anymore (Drinkwater plays a ton). I freakin' love classic rock and I know it still flourishes outside of Canadian cities (I don't know about the Québecois countryside). Still, there are a lot of cool contemporary Canadian and Québecois musicians as well. The Sheepdogs for instance. 

Is contemporary Canadian and Québecois music that expensive?

*Cool shout out for Penticton, B.C, anyways.

Gedo senki (Tales from Earthsea)

It's fun to throw around terms like immortality or magic at times, to take part in mythological shenanigans as reputedly envisaged in fermenting fashion.

But if reality needs be materialistically applied, I've never been interested in living forever, it seems like it would be incredibly dull in fact, and if you kept growing older, an encumbering plight. 

Vampires apparently don't age but who would want to live forever without the sun?, that would be an extremely unfortunate predicament certainly not to be genuinely envied.

I do believe in life after death perhaps sustained through the potent dreamworld, your dreams persisting perhaps like purgatory until you reach some form of nirvana. 

The belief in life after death does solve several concrete problems, and leaves you less burdened by temporal considerations throughout the rapid progression of time.

Make sure you're not too much of a prick and worries of damnation fade as well, the congenial afterlife even animal heaven I imagine sustained by decent people across the land.

I don't think repenting on your death bed or absolution late in life prevents the onset of hell for the truly wicked.

They're punished ruthlessly post-mortality.

Somewhat like Jacob Marley.

But I don't think the punishment is indefinite the chance to rise again indeed enlightening, I've always intuitively believed in reincarnation (as I've mentioned before) for which I was reprimanded at a young age.

Perhaps there is nothing else perhaps just the dirt and ashes follow, after a fertile robust life inquisitively lived through cultural sleuthing.

I find it much less depressing and much more constructive to think otherwise however, there really is no way to determine the answer, and a future filled with multiple lives and multiverses leads to more pleasant thoughts throughout mortal life.

I don't mean for such thoughts to influence government spending or tax-based initiatives, practical reality indeed paramount when trying to spend hard-earned vital incomes.

With competing ideologies in the democratic realm unfortunately the phrase practical realities becomes more abstract, but it's still less corrupt than a one-party system and at least you can still critique and disagree.

Imagine immortality during an ice age, who knows, perhaps that's how we survived!

Like many others, I believe death's a natural part of life.

Not that it means I want to stop living.

Cool film. 

Calabuch

Perhaps a playful precursor for the age old mischievous Prisoner, Calabuch examines similar themes from a much less lethal angle. 

Thus, rather than finding himself cloistered away in a remote coastal village, every movement monitored by sympathetic yet grasping authorities, Calabuch's lead successfully escapes from his panopticonic confines, and finds amusing sanctuary along the isolated Spanish coast (while spending his nights in the local jail).

He's like a child at play and has no criticisms to impart, he's productively enthusiastic beyond vitriol or lament, it's classic emancipation, without forlorn regret.

The small town's rambunctiously engaged in harmless reverential mischief, the police and smugglers no doubt at odds even if they've been friends for some time.

The doctor (Edmund Gwenn) having left behind ceremonious stilted shackles, a leading nuclear scientist indeed, in possession of multidimensional clinical knowledge, and eager to help out in any way he can.

It's an absurd scenario generating lucid compassion for the locked-down doc, who clearly wishes he could freely engage with the world at large without reservation. 

He does possess valuable secrets which call into question his largesse however.

In a comic duel between individual and nation.

With lighthearted trim finesse.

It must be unnerving at times to possess highly specialized volatile knowledge, violently sought after by entrenched no-goodniks hoping to capitalize on cultural misfortune.

I suppose you can't just trot off to the market or delicately chill unmonitored at the beach, you would hope you would have access to some kind of private facility but who knows how often you'd get to go there.

You may be stuck in meetings overflowing with polemical tactical verbiage, extremely serious all the time, imagine you could escape!

That's what Luis García Berlanga did in this remarkably entertaining comedy, which may revel in grand distortion, but certainly does so with grand vivacity. 

Must even the hardworking public's precious time off be subject to rigorous scrutiny!, with no constructive comedic outlets, like it was throughout the pandemic?

Imagine years of bleak totalitarian experimental pestilent intrigue, only broken up by even crazier conspiracy theories which are still troublingly shockingly popular.

What to make of the independent cinema which takes them seriously in the forbidding future?

I thoroughly loved the romantic Calabuch.

Throughout which they still listen to doctors. 

Bell, Book & Candle

*Cool to see this film has a remake in the mix! Not that the original isn't up to snuff, I'd just love to see what contemporary writers would make of such a snug fit as this (fitting in terms of the abundance of fantasy films being released these days). 

I suppose I've never quite understood why biblical religions are consistently at odds with paganism and magic, and while getting into even more trouble, I've always thought peeps should blend the two.

Should the services of witches and warlocks along with those of the animal kingdom, not be spiritually enlisted to complement mainstream religion?

Does mainstream religion not seek to ecumenically envelope everything, within a multifaceted conglomerate discursively transmutating throughout the world?

And if seeking to envelope everything mustn't exceptions be made at times, to facilitate enriching understanding and mutually respectful supernatural accords?

Did the biblical God not create the animals and also ensure they could prosper throughout his lands, would it not also make sense that he created gifted loving people who could ingeniously communicate with them?

If people were able to interact and fluently communicate with animals, would harmony not flourish throughout the land if they weren't persecuted for their difference?

Much like the dominion of The Biggest Little Farm beings could constructively co-exist, and generally work together to pursue cultivated productivity.

I imagine the cosmopolitan afterlife, effortlessly blended with naturalistic reckoning, accepts people and animals from every religion, assuming they haven't lived the lives of vicious a-holes.

It doesn't make sense that spiritually prosperous influential people unaffiliated with any religion, should suffer the eternal torments of hell after having lived virtuous lives.

Thus, major figures like Christ and Nanabush likely share in heaven's abundance, infinitely spreading their vivid alternatives with gregarious communal friendly import.

As they've gotten to know one another over the course of recent millennia, would they not also have become more familiar with different ways to live a life?

Would they not also have become more tolerant of abounding un/orthodox difference, or the application of ethical goodwill to manifold chillin' grassroots initiatives? 

Should paganism and the biblical religions not therefore come to terms this Holiday Season, to ensure more bountiful multilateral refinements throughout the fertile verdant Earth?

So much knowledge to share and integrate.

With zoological enlightenment.

Released shortly thereafter the old school enigmatic Vertigo.

What a year for Stewart and Novak!

Deck the Halls

Meticulously prepared for the upcoming holidays, a fastidious optometrist get things done (Matthew Broderick as Mr. Finch), his loving family receptive to his obsessive celebrations, embracing each vital tradition, with resignéd calm.

But a new neighbour suddenly appears across the suburban street one night, who's less familiar with rigid reservations, preferring the lighthearted easy going improvisational holiday approach, he freely and oddly expresses himself, with well-meaning lovable charm (Danny DeVito as Buddy Hall).

Unfortunately for Mr. Finch, Buddy decides to set up Christmas lights, and goes far beyond a modest array, indeed hoping his house will be visible from space, the ultimate salute to excessive glitz and glamour.

Even more unfortunately for Mr. Finch, Buddy's luminous galactic ambitions lead him to become the most sought after Christmas expert in town, a position formerly held by Mr. Finch himself, who becomes more and more furious with each passing day.

He vociferously airs his grievances yet feisty Buddy does not back down, the two then engaging in grandiose shenanigans which the cross-dressing police chief (Garry Chalk) cannot contain.

Their respective wives and families grow rather weary of the childish rivalry, yet their wise counsel is stubbornly ignored as the festive conflict madly intensifies.

And somewhere along the way the communal spirit of the Holiday Season is lost.

Will the competitive incensed pair?

Forgive and forget, in time for Christmas?

Channeling Planes, Trains & Automobiles, Deck the Halls showcases wild aggravation, blindly expanding distressful atrophy, the uptight professional, the self-made person.

Different lucrative skill sets still hopefully flourish in the North American economy, they provide so much remarkable spice for a thriving culture dynamically composed.

The benefits of a University education the confidence you develop from its projects and tests, not to mention the wide variety of divergent subjects to study, cultivating level-headed prudent multiplicity.

The benefits of the working world instructing the daring with multidimension, as different experiences at different levels in different jobs produce impeccable hands-on contention. 

Perhaps the most successful CEOs find a way to blend the different approaches, not only personally but with their staff as well, as their businesses develop open-minded spectrums. 

Less jealousy for the devoutly studious and fewer dismissals of practical knowledge, could lead to a more well-rounded prosperous business, or simply friendships indeed like no other. 

The Black Cat

Spoiler alert.

A newlywed couple unwinds on their honeymoon, carefreely travelling throughout Eastern Europe, wilfully embracing romantic stratagems, to celebrate their new life together.

Suddenly a stranger joins them in their spacious train compartment, who happens to be heading to the same destination, with which he's intimately familiar (Bela Lugosi as Dr. Vitus Werdegast). 

Upon departure, he secures a ride, and they set off into a forbidding storm, dispiritingly crashing not so long after, lodging fortunately available nearby.

But Vitus has failed to tell them that he's recently returned from prison, and seeks vengeance at the very establishment where they happen to be spending the night.

The owner (Boris Karloff as Hjalmar Poelzig) cheated him during a war along with many of their brave compatriots, for he longed for Vitus's precious wife, and cowardly sought to save his own skin.

Vitus's wife perished shortly thereafter but their daughter enchantingly grew, and eventually wed the man who had ruined her family, lacking paramount prerequisite knowledge.

He also loyally worships Satan and conducts forbidden rituals with local elites at his home.

The young couple struggles to adapt.

Without preponderant divine mercy.

More concerned with character and mood than striking shocking spry special effects, The Black Cat haunts without graphic supplement, as old school legends face off for the first time.

Was this narrative frightening for audiences way back and does it still scare peeps to this very day, have there always been those who find it comic, or perhaps abounding with sardonic frights?

Horror certainly has become much more technical in terms of mind-bogglingly mad diabolics, if you went from finding The Black Cat startling what would you make of A Nightmare on Elm Street?

Is horror more suited to the censors of its time or can it function at random, ahistorically?, audiences from the '30s would have been less familiar with Freddy or Jason, but their world was much more accustomed to war torn strife.

Were censors more strict long ago because the world was still much more blunt and chaotic, and they refused to encourage theoretical bedlam because they distrusted aggrieved elementals?

Apart from the pandemic, the last 75 years haven't seen grandiose crazed distress, on a mass scale like World War II anyways, not that there haven't been sundry harrowing incidents.

Can't say I'll ever get used to lockdowns.

Although they're necessary when things get out of hand. 

I didn't find The Black Cat comic.

I thought it was a cool bit of offbeat storytelling.

The Prestige

Professional rivalry, two up and coming magicians, each determined to present the most striking spectacle, imaginable, yet one is careless, and the other's cherished love interest passes, things taking a vicious turn in the aftermath, as they both refuse to back down.

One believes in dangerous risk taking while the other is more reserved, although the intensity of their grim competition provokes grand transformations forthcoming.

One visits the coveted Tesla (David Bowie) at his residence in the wilds of Colorado, and requests the creation of a machine that can transport matter from one location to another.

He believes such a sensation has already been acquired by his adversary, and spends a fortune to flagrantly duel, his nemesis not in possession of exhaustive funds, yet more innovative counterintuitively speaking.

I've never understood compulsive obsession and the personal desire to win at all costs. Sportspersonship is too valuable a concept to be obscured by personal ambition.

It's preferable to lose having played by the rules than to succeed through nefarious means, as long as you give your best effort and suppress destructive envious tendencies.

I pay too much attention to sports to proceed otherwise, not that I'm by any means a great athlete, but so many great athletes compete year after year without ever winning anything.

This doesn't prevent them from competing or trying to win one more time, they're great role models for the active spirit who never grows weary of enriching fair play.

Alfred Borden (Christian Bale) and Robert Angier (Hugh Jackman) take things to levels I can't comprehend, to resort to sabotage or deliberate vengeance insults the art they're skilfully crafting.

I thought the arts would be much more friendly in my youth since so many of the artistic people I knew were often kind, the realities of the art world somewhat disconcerting as people critically jockey for position.

I suppose there are fewer opportunities to succeed as an artist than there are for sporty peeps, and the lack of engaging opportunity drives ambition to psychotic levels.

But it seems better to chill on the fringe than embrace destructive psychologies.

If you want the world to be a better place and you adopt ruthless means how will anything ever change?

Beyond what's written.

More respect for aging artists in the Anglo-American sphere may lead to less intense conflict, I'm by no means an expert on French culture, but it's clear they hold the arts in much higher esteem.

In general, not in relation to me, French culture seems to cultivate a much more level playing field for the arts and sports, which could explain why they're so successful at both, why they keep generating such incredible outputs.

The Prestige is an excellent film that showcases unsettling realities. 

There's so little to soulfully gain.

Through bland underhanded corruption. 

The Favourite

Intrigue covetously schemes while fortune miraculously hounds, the enthused generosity of an imposing caregiver insolently betrayed by dissolute ambition, a lack of opportunity blended with flogged discourtesy no doubt encouraging rank desperation, and as circumstances ameliorate postures tempt then beckon, botanical connaissance herbaceously imploring, as Yorgos Lanthimos embroils The Favourite.

An odd mixture of innocence and ferocity emerges, Queen Anne's (Olivia Colman) impulses potently distracted, Lady Sarah (Rachel Weisz) guiding them with discreet intention, Abigail Hill (Emma Stone) recognizing habitual laidback verse.

To rest at play with one's rabbits on sunny afternoons as thrush critique, bray, and scold, evenings, inopportune.

What's overlooked?

What seeks cultivation?

What is she ignoring?

Devoutly genuine dissimulation.

Dark motivations speculate as calculation courts royal favour.

Ingratiation husked, unsettled.

Gratification crudely extolling.

Nevertheless, The Favourite seems to dismiss base flattery to uphold honest criticism, even if Duchess Marlborough (Weisz) isn't contentiously disposed.

In fact she blends blunt observation with composed praise in skillfully threaded admonishing coddles, poignantly yet starkly depicting stately decorum, ironically lost in assured security.

She's heavily relied upon, and has become somewhat stern, Abigail cunningly enacting a playful counterpoint, the Queen falling for her carefree license.

Who's to say, honestly, some people flatter to solely promote themselves, others have an agenda, some seek altruistic goals, some like to revel but still respect their obligations.

And personalities change over time and in different situations (Foucauldian Power).

The Favourite excels at providing mischievous illustrations of the upper echelons at play, presenting political duty more like an afterthought, or something someone considers when writing about such things.

For subject matter this multifaceted I would have preferred a larger cast, even if it's primarily focused on Marlborough and Abigail's rivalry, its political backdrop still lacks exploratory depth, for which we aren't adroitly compensated.

Lanthimos has created his own otherworldly tragic comedic bizarro aesthetic that brightly resonates with thoughtful disillusion.

But as profoundly melancholic as The Favourite may be, it still promotes poised bewilderment.

I'm assuming it's safe to say, "goal, achieved."

Brashly articulated.

Uncle Drew

A legendary street side basketball tournament known as the Rucker Classic drives feisty shoesalesperson/coach Dax (Lil Rel Howery/Ashton Tyler) to envisage heartfelt impressions.

Yet after obnoxious rival Mookie (Nick Kroll) steals his best player, and then his partner, after she throws him out, wayward Dax must embrace paths followed unbidden.

But as despair begins to weaken his profound resilient temper, a potent force from decades past, still in possession of incomparable skill, suddenly appears ready to contend, if and only if he can reassemble his once duty-bound team.

A member of which remains aggrieved.

Begrudged impassioned youth.

Underscored divisively.

Charles Stone III's Uncle Drew innocently celebrates teamwork to strengthen multigenerational resolve.

Logic is magically reconceptualized within, to artistically metamorphisize concrete athletic biology.

At times it struggles.

Some vegetarian sandwiches need two to three times as much cheese, and even if do-gooding boldly asserts Uncle Drew's regenerative harmonies, it still undeniably serves up a thick multilayered footlong.

Chomp Chomp.

Friendships briefly reestablished to redeem themselves for having missed rare highly prized opportunities illuminate the backcourt.

Enchanting implausibility fuelling huggable lighthearted mysteries acrobatically sashay unconfused.

A healthy examination of sport and the ways in which it can positively impact one's community sharply attunes deeply connected obligation.

And a contemplative disputatious sad yet determined Kevin Hart/Eeyore hybrid enlivens the game with perplexed in/credulous jamméd excitability.

Rewards for versatility redefining alternative options strewn.

A bit o' basketball worked in.

With some loving romance too.

Transported from the bleachers to centre stage primetime, Uncle Drew innocently tenderizes as it renovates old school.

Not the most hard-hitting film, but not a shout out to the dark side either, it boldly cuts down sith with blunt octogenarian sabres, while shedding a little light, on respectful collective views.

Super chill.