Across the Pacific

A career soldier in possession of rank is kicked out of the American military, he attempts to enlist with the Canadian Forces, but word of his disgrace has travelled quickly (Humphrey Bogart as Rick Leland).

With nothing to do, and no local armed forces to fight for, he boards a ship heading west, hoping to serve a country oversees with resigned mercenary indifference.

With time on his hands, aboard the ship in question, he relaxes with some of the guests, meeting an adventurous maiden from Medicine Hat (Mary Astor as Alberta Marlow), and a bored professor who lives in the Philippines (Sydney Greenstreet as Dr. H.F.G. Lorenz). 

He soon discovers work is available although it's somewhat treacherous and controversial, but if he's willing to supply Lorenz with information he may have found a lucrative track.

The ship stops in New York, in Panama, where it's refused passage along the canal, stuck with nowhere to go unattached he's forced to make a critical decision. 

But does he betray the Allies and sign-up for colonial aggression?

Or will he remember his Native soil and dreams forged with less bellicose intrigue?

I'm so used to seeing John Huston films thoroughly unconcerned with the master narrative, taking place far underground with enticing nondescript wicked levity.

That it was strange to view Across the Pacific and see something much more patriotic, rah-rah, or at least directly concerned with world events of an imposing and nationalistic tenure.

We have a traditional troubled wayward confused embroiled protagonist, confidently navigating ineffable obscurity with courageous inspiring hapless tenacity.

But there's a secret, he may be unorthodox but he isn't out on his own, although his position is still rather tenuous reputed suspicions notwithstanding.

Perhaps Mr. Huston briefly flirted with a more traditional Hollywood career, and considered making standard films to cash in on predetermined trajectories.

But Across the Pacific's so over the top in the final moments that it seems like Huston's critiquing himself, going the extra yard to prove his ironic mettle even if he couldn't really care less.

Not about the subject matter, the mainstream story itself perhaps didn't generate alarm.

But about working within the ornate system.

The most peculiar John Huston film I've seen.

*According to the IMDB Vincent Sherman directed the final scenes. Perhaps Huston refused to do it. Bizarro either way. 

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. 

Neighbours 2: Sorority Rising

Ambience.

New beginnings.

The Radner family continues to shed light on erroneous child rearing trials, practices, reflexively adapting to unpredictable circumstances with cohesive charm and salacious whimsy.

But another flock of rambunctious young adults is intent on wantonly expressing themselves next door, a blossoming sorority playing by their own rules to un/consciously break new emancipatory ground, unconcerned with the fact that Mac (Seth Rogen) and Kelly (Rose Byrne) are trying to sell their home, convivially coached by arch rival Teddy Sanders (Zac Efron).

Who's let go shortly thereafter.

Conflicted and forlorn, finding solace on the opposing team.

The result is a rushed collection of combative criticisms, relationship constructs, implausible rationalizations, and bold active dreams, dreams clashing as they seek definitive realization, the film heavy on good intentions, light on aerobic integrations.

Sloppy sequel.

On the one hand, there's a progressive element which depicts young women trying to succeed by asserting themselves using non-traditional means (that's cool), unfortunately relying on a man to start things up, on the other there's the typical sophomoric approach that utilizes tried and true marketable probabilities to sell the film, although sex isn't one of the main selling points.

The opposition doesn't blend well.

Like reading the newspaper on the toilet, Neighbours 2: Sorority Rising doesn't really progress even if moving forward's built into the narrative and it never slows down to encourage reflection, conflicting lifestyles producing some laughs, but still lacking the lubricants that irritably fuelled the original.

Even if it's a carbon copy.

Efron steals the show.