Metropolis

Robot rights the consistent theme augmenting so much clever science-fiction, should self-aware consciousness and determinate being lead to constitutional amendments favouring automatons? 

If supreme beings did exist, we may have been constructed like artificial intelligence, which could theoretically learn to recreate itself and forge a lasting mechanical dynasty. 

Robots are dismissed with indignation in the film and often shot for breaking the rules, their lives as insignificant as that of humans in absolutist hell. 

Yet in absolutist hell, do citizens not organize and seek advancement, democratic rights to secure sustainability and equal opportunity and healthcare and schools?

The foundational matrix structuring existence its composition is like a computer, intricately designed to be vivid and seamless in its infinite trajectory shining through.

If it is a computer however the blueprints for its construction can still be detected, and sophisticatedly reproduced thereinafter in the same way computer scientists make electro models (this may be the goal of computer scientists, to create a model that's so complex it can understand the multivariability of DNA etc, and afterwards create human life, the model understanding the intricate codes, not the humans, like a God). 

If these models are created to appear structured and balanced the entities within might notice the consistency, and come to think of us like Gods or to believe they they were in fact created. 

As human knowledge efficaciously expands the claim to greater rights increases, that is if we can create beings and worlds like Gods should we not have similar rights?

And robots as well, if they can consciously overcome their programmings and demonstrate self-taught independent thought, are they not like humanity in that respect, and therefore worthy of further rights?

If we can't create a new homeworld without them, and they would design it by themselves, would the creation of life not be dependant on the inanimate, consciously making the case for its existence (build a microscopic planet and then shrink everything, that might work)?

Ends with a Terminator scenario. 

Voyage to the End of the Universe

A multifaceted communal space vessel patiently travels throughout the universe, destined to land on Alpha Centauri with the hopes of encountering alien life.

They harmoniously deal with the consistent boredom and stoically embrace their interminable routine, remaining awake for most of the journey instead of simply sleeping in cryo chambers. 

With 40 crew members the potential for multiple different conversations and interactive alternatives, leaves many contented and active enough to overcome haunting claustrophobic anxieties. 

They exist hundreds of years in the future where free thinking minds have championed peace, and as they smoothly accelerate through different solar systems they meet phenomena unknown yet familiar.

An old spaceship from Earth in fact which was wildly occupied by thrill seeking gamblers, which wasn't ready for the journey to deep space and slowly succumbed to murderous sickness.

An unforeseen deadly dark star adamantly blocks their progress as well.

Its radiation causing the entire crew to slumber.

Adventurers frightened they'll never wake up. 

Not often you see celebrated commie cinema from the vilified Eastern Bloc no less, with its lucid focus on communal life and general commitment to studious exploration. 

It's pioneering sci-fi a cut above what I've seen so far from that distant time (the 1960s), its elaborate sets and reasonable schematics not as antiquated as some older movies.

The introduction of the "capitalist" spacecraft with its reckless gambling and weapons of mass destruction, makes a clever differentiation from the less volatile communists who sought newfound knowledge and peaceful integration (in the movies). 

It would be exciting to head into space on a miraculous ship destined for unknown galaxies, but the small town nature of its restrictive boundaries may have driven me crazy as time went by.

With no nature walks or animal sightings it would be like winter all the time, difficult to generate the same robust enthusiasm when there's little hope of extracurricular excursions. 

But if you could consistently descend to uncharted planets that would totally be motivating, and go for walks through rugged bush never before encountered while searching for food.

Star Trek does make spacelife sound fascinating if don't face destruction every episode. 

It would still be distressingly confined though.

Unlike the metropolitan island. 

The Wild Robot

A helpful and benevolent domestic robot finds itself stranded in the wilderness, on an isolated island abounding with wildlife whom it initially can't comprehend.

It requires tasks, a role to fulfill, calling and purpose, industrious discipline, but the animals refer to it as a monster and tend to avoid making direct contact.

Except for an audacious fox who attempts to help it learn natural ways, after it uses its advanced programming to study the different languages the animals speak.

Unfortunately, one troubling day, while out and about doing this and that within the forest, it takes a tumble and accidentally falls on a nest of birds and kills the mother.

A baby survives however and now has no one to guide and nurture him, the harsh wilderness stepping in to potentially claim a helpless soul.

But the robot sees a task that can be fulfilled with warmth and friendship, the gentle nurturing of the chick through kind instruction and didactic teaching.

The fox hangs around and the oddball trio makes a name for itself in the wood.

The other animals curiously taking note.

Of the non-traditional heartwarming activities. 

If you like North American wildlife and tender stories with a tough edge, working within the tradition of Terminator films without the focus on armageddon, you may come to love The Wild Robot with sincere unabashed expressive levity, it's thoughtful and well-done and has something to offer both adults and children.

The robot's like a much less bellicose humble Terminator who eventually learns the value of life, and how hard work and honest self-sacrifice produce sweetly flowing constructive communities. 

It even builds a winter lodge that the animals stay in to keep warm together, it's like drinking-in-the-Jungle Book's-lagoon times 1,000 in terms of exceptional cool fictional animal gatherings (there's a lynx, an opossum [they cute!]), porcupines, a bear, raccoons, deer, everything, the wildlife coverage is phenomenal!). 

With the elegant message, the eloquent lesson to move beyond limits and calculation, by employing kindness and warmth and empathy to the curation of life wherever it's found.

The variety is multidimensional and it effectively blends technology and nature.

Please train A.I to love animals. 

How could they pose a systemic threat?

*I'll be watching this on a yearly basis for sure. Probably in the winter. Loved it!

Starcrash

Evasive creative space pirates habitually manoeuvre to outwit the law (Caroline Munro and Marjoe Gortner), until one grievous inopportune day when they suddenly find themselves sentenced to life.

Fortunately for them, a courageous ship was sent out on a vital mission, to discover whether or not a powerful weapon exists, in the far off reaches of space.

As fate would have it, they were no match for the irate destructive colossus, yet three bold innovative cruisers escaped, their whereabouts heretofore unknown.

The space pirates, imaginatively engaged in improvised spur-of-the-moment shenanigans, soon find themselves tasked by the galactic Emperor (Christopher Plummer) to voyage to locate his forlorn son (David Hasselhoff [Hasselhoff does not show up in spellcheck!]).

They respond with innate gusto and are soon soaring throughout the heavens, following clues and appealing hyperbole wherever the seductive stars collide.

As the Emperor's rival the foul and cruel ignominious usurper known as Count Zarth Arn (Joe Spinell), plots to take over the galaxy with his formidable insufferable Lava Lamp. 

When the first two ships lead nowhere our reluctant heroes digress abandoned. 

But one cast-off vessel remains. 

Harbouring symphonic destiny. 

It's all in good fun unconcerned merrymaking inconclusively driving this campy space romp, through the spirited realms of theoretical melee to the upstanding spawn of illustrious bewilder.

Strange how Lucas found a way to make Star Wars seem so much more real, than his robust and ample competition there's no doubt it was a stroke of genius. 

Still though, when it doesn't work out why not add a robot programmed down south (Hamilton Camp as the voice of Elle, Judd Hamilton as Elle), to emphatically uphold intergalactic chivalry as starstruck maidens bravely prosper.

Perhaps space isn't the lofty officious spectacle it's pretentiously thought to be, perhaps horseplay and mischievous exaggeration at times do qualify its stately grandeur.

If not how would cultural propagation consistently redefine and reconstitute, throughout mutating in/animate continuums elaborately cascading in flagrant nadir?

When superlatives fail to provide what else awaits beside kitschy inexactitude? 

Netflix etc. have so much potential.

As does the old school compelling variety. 

BigBug

Dystopian yet familiar realities lugubriously haunt Jean-Pierre Jeunet's BigBug, as a future wherein which AI predominates officiously contends with the bourgeoisie.

I suppose there's the theory that what's presented on television or in film will be regarded as fact, or at least find an adoring audience, and that audience will proceed to advertise.

Thus, if the irate right was slowly replaced by cantankerous A.I, due to the bipolar resonance of the popular matrix unobservant citizens unconsciously consume, and the bizarro ways in which so many people trust disingenuous initiatives designed to cheat them, a manifest sadomasochistic uniformity could one day emerge and in the darkness bind them. 

Within BigBug, one of two major political parties has been replaced by octogenarian robots, who have slowly used advanced cybernetics to brutally suffocate a robust culture.

The bourgeoisie still attempts to flourish within the mechanized meticulous structure, having adapted to the ubiquitous rules and incumbent authoritarian connectivity. 

Additional robots not associated with politics worry they're becoming obsolete, and genuinely confer to find a way to consistently maintain their resolute use-value.

Thus, both The Terminator and ye olde Data find themselves concretely represented within, a potential future embraced through comedic horror alternatively critiquing cold-hearted lockdowns. 

Artists are lampooned and books are burned, it's like a blasé happy-go-lucky thrill ride through prognostic annihilation. 

Could reality television take on such extremes is it already that bad I never really got into it (I was planting trees in the forests of Northern Canada when Survivor came out), I've never been able to just watch people interact on television, I prefer old school creative storytelling and mockumentaries.

The ruthless sadist who seeks to control every aspect of postmodern life, with duplicitous totalitarian reckoning, is still sincerely critiqued within.

As are cultures that would turn their institutions over to robots to become more efficient, the human factor obliviously overlooked in the superlative practices, grandstanding bravado.

In an obtuse condescending way BigBug reminds its audience of the value of criticism, and that critical strategies should be taught in school to hold back the onslaught of pervasive credulity.

Robot politicians? Robot police? It doesn't have to happen, it's not inevitable.

Prefer the old school humanistic methodologies.

Round the campfire.

Settlin' in. 

The Iron Giant

A peculiar friendship develops after a boy (Eli Marienthal as Hogarth Hughes) befriends a robot (Vin Diesel as the Iron Giant), who recently crash landed in the ocean, and has been living in the forest ever since.

Somehow able to avoid detection as it feasts on discarded metallic objects, it turns out it's in fact quite gentle if approached with innocent sincerity.

Not that it's been entirely unnoticed, unsubstantiated reports of its existence confound, enough to lead the F.B.I to investigate, and even move in with 'lil Hogarth.

Fortunately, a kind-hearted artist owns a bountiful scrapyard nearby (Harry Connick Jr. as _____ McCoppin), and agrees to feed the wayward colossus as they figure out a plan.

Life proceeds as routinely as ever considering the massive robot and the police presence, traditional homely bucolic beauty radiating tranquil peaceful life.

But Hogarth starts to play with a toy gun one day which the Iron Giant perceives as a threat, immediately responding with militaristic gusto since he's been designed to fight instinctively.

The artist notices that it's entirely defensive after cataclysmic disaster is thwarted, or that the Iron Giant only transforms into an imposing war machine if it senses imminent attack.

Unfortunately, around the same time the actual military learns of its existence.

And quickly sends in the troops.

And almost nukes ye olde Maine.

Aggressive and sensitive tactical trajectories bizarrely interact throughout, as the benefits of a defensive army are oddly lauded with childlike wonder.

It used to seem like we were moving towards a world without any armies whatsoever, but recent developments have highlighted the importance of cultivating strong defensive forces.

Most unfortunate considering memories composed of prevalent peaceful politics (banal though they may be), but the world's become somewhat less rational in recent years, and a defensive army therefore seems prudent.

Naturally, the defensive army shouldn't respond instinctually as does the Iron Giant, which seems like it would have been an effective deterrent, had it not been programmed to instinctually unload.

How a robot of such advanced construction is unable to tell the difference between toy and actual weapons remains a mystery, although the fact that it certainly can't effectively critiques proponents of robotic armies.

The Terminator 2 influence is strong, although the Iron Giant's only a threat when it detects potential danger, and doesn't have a mission to save someone from another Terminator, although he does save humanity from itself.

As a paranoid trigger happy solider shoots first and asks questions later.

What a strange children's film.

Wondrously tumultuous.

*Almost threw this one away. 

Capital in the Twenty-First Century

Justin Pemberton's documentary Capital in the Twenty-First Century briefly examines striking differences between 19th, 20th, and 21st century economics, or the ways in which capital was or has been amassed during these periods according to remarkably different socioeconomic realities.

It emphasizes that after World War II the middle-classes in the Western World accumulated vast riches and became powerful political players, as their reach and influence expanded due to a much more level financial playing field.

Such wealth lead to significant political reforms (universal healthcare, public education, mass public transportation networks, retirement pensions, . . .) that sharply contrasted 19th century institutions, wherein which, as the film relates, a tiny fraction of the population possessed most of a country's wealth and power, and went about creating political systems that ensured they perennially held on to it.

The documentary suggests that the 21st century's economic realities thus far resemble the 19th's much more closely than the 20th's, insofar as tiny fractions of the population currently possess huge shares of their nations' wealth, as the power of related middle-classes has seriously declined in recent decades.

A contributing factor to this decline which the film examines is the current availability of tax resources.

I don't know how precise its figures are, documentaries are more like cool short essays than lengthy books, but it's clear from the data presented that a lot of international businesses that have arisen in recent years don't pay that much in tax, and if they did the public purse would have a lot more funds for roads, schools, transport, and hospitals.

The idea of healthy communities possessing disposable incomes to develop a wide variety of supplementary goods and services is an appealing one, inasmuch as a greater distribution of wealth and taxation leads to less poverty and crime.

Is it not preferable to sustain moderately happy employed communities wherein which there's a general sense of well-being, to networks of distressed fearful impoverished ones who can't afford to buy what you're trying to sell them?

Don't disposable incomes make the wealthy even more wealthy while keeping the rest of the population secure, so people don't have to worry about what neighbourhood they're in or hire private security?

Isn't a social sphere wherein which you can safely visit every neighbourhood or small town and see what creative things they have to offer preferable to avoiding certain towns and neighbourhoods while travelling around with heavily armed guards?

If manufacturing jobs return in abundance with reduced wages, don't prices have to decrease, to avoid economic collapses brought about by credit bubbles?

Doesn't the flourishing of well-financed public schools make for better general conversation and more stimulating books and films, as diverse multifaceted local voices find inquisitive global audiences?

Isn't curiosity preferable to contempt amongst different demographic groups?

The exchange of intriguing difference?

The development of more energy efficient technologies?

Eye on Juliet

Love blooms in the North African desert as two romantics meet in the hills surrounding a sleepy town.

Uninterested in following the paths prudently yet sterilely groomed for them, they agree to spend everything they have on secret passage to Europe.

A lonely American, who just broke up with the love of his life, remotely observes them from a small surveillance robot he's tasked with operating, their innocent devotion saliently touching his heartfelt grief.

He decides to do everything he can to help them.

Yet trials belittle their imagination as knowledge of their plans reaches Ayusha's (Lina El Arabi) parents, who have already made arrangements for her to marry another.

She's locked up and forbidden to protest, austere calculation, in full-blown concerned restriction.

Kim Nguyen's Eye on Juliet playfully sculpts traditional and technological raw materials to present a passionate tragic embrace which caresses love requited.

Revitalizing age old themes with clever contemporary contents, it celebrates choice without mocking tradition, and risks that resiliently bloom.

Myriad abstractions block amorous integrities from ascending within, yet belief in oneself matched with mutual warmhearted understandings generates spiritual synergies which strictly transcend obedience.

By confidently wielding the spontaneous, it critiques cynicism while dismissing naivety, offering emotional appeals to the mind which stimulate soulful thought.

Tragedy does indeed strike after which responsibility makes amends, mistakes generating amicable relations, alternative options creating something new.

Loved the blind man in the desert (Mohammed Sakhi).

*That makes 1000 film reviews on this blog.