Borealis

Sean Garrity's Borealis hits and misses, struggling to cohesively grind its aesthetic, while occasionally brewing refined diuretics.

Structurally speaking.

It follows Jonah (Jonas Chernick) as he attempts to pay off massive debts through gambling, making one $50,000 bet too many, winding up on the run from a seriously angry old friend.

What takes place in the film functions as a warning to would-be risk takers, although, due to its consistent focus on the regenerative potential of a lucrative lucky streak, it also glamorizes the stakes, albeit in a downtrodden fashion.

Thus it appeals to card players and those who prefer board games alike.

J'aime les deux.

It tries to introduce the bizarre, a quaintly quizzical quandary, as a small vegetarian dog is offered an entire large raw steak on a golf course, logic unfortunately minimizing its impact, since the time it would take to eat the steak would more than likely disrupt the flow of their game.

The script viciously acknowledges this incoherency moments later.

I think a closer study of Twin Peaks is in order.

Jonah's daughter (Joey King as Aurora) is going blind and he convinces her to take a road trip with him (the getaway [she doesn't know she's going blind at this point]) to Churchill, Manitoba, to see the Northern Lights before she loses her sight, and even if arguments abound throughout their journey, their eventual coming together fuels the film's reckless fervour.

It's tough to bond with Jonah.

He is a huge screw-up, and I had trouble generating sympathy.

But the script does excel at slowly delivering personal historical details from his life which do in fact help to eventually generate sympathy, and reminded me not to jump to hasty conclusions.

The ending (spoilers) best describes my thoughts about the film.

After coming to terms with Jonah's creditors, Jonah and Aurora sit on Churchill's rocky shore, relieved about their reversal of fortune.

Jonah must have been freezing since he had recently been tied up and launched into the water, but, whatevs.

The Northern Lights suddenly appear and Jonah points them out.

It's cheesy that they suddenly appear, but then we discover that Aurora has gone blind and can't see them, which grates the maudlin slab.

Highs and lows, sinuous switchboards.

Liked the hitchhiking roadside imbroglio.

And the shots of rural Manitoba.

Almost went to Churchill once you know.

Way back when.

Shi Gu (Lost and Love)

A dedicated father travels throughout China searching for his lost son, his limitless efforts composed yet impassioned, his task seemingly hopeless yet his hope never fades nor yields, year after year alone on the trek, putting up flyers, waving his flags, strangers offering assistance through random acts of kindness, communal decency and wholesomeness addressing his wounds, when one day a teen, who was stolen from his parents at a young age and sold to an unscrupulous family, freely lends a hand, the two then continuing to search together, practically blind but united by purpose, the wonders of social networking, aiding them as they cruise.

Through the labyrinthine zealiotropic haze.

A plan touching in its simplicity yet complex in its random achievement of unexpected results.

It's a feel good film, depressing theme but still feel good, wherein citizens from different walks of life do what they can to limit despair, politely fighting against bland cynicism, expressing a nation's profound disgust.

Madness envelopes ineffable horrors in striking forthright balm, heartache and hardship, pinstriped periwinkle.

It's too cheesy at times but Shi Gu's (Lost and Love's) spirit overcomes these sprawling tear-jerks to illustrate how a strong determined will can positively influence hundreds of lives over the years by remaining committed to a principled goal, and/or how said commitment can move beyond its initial individualistic purpose to find itself driven by nurtured communal bonds.

Lei Zekuan (Andy Lau) isn't just acting on his own, Shi Gu takes a serious look at synergistic interdependence, mutually inspired and inspiring, chillin' on motorized bikes.

It's not all light and fluffy, the edge is a kind of raw innocent unrelenting sharpness that foolishly glides and genuflects, like the loss of a son engendered eternal youth, sustained by an ongoing search, the conclusion of which would bring about age.

Wisdom.  

Relatos salvajes (Wild Tales)

6 volatile tales, worst case after worst case after worst case, scenarios often drenched in vengeance and justice, unexpected reactions to systemic rigidities, spitfires and incendiaries, riddled with hostility, both participants in the carnage, explosively splintered and drawn.

Who's in the wrong?, detonates each of these backlashed drills, as they comedically yet devastatingly assert themselves, like sociocultural aneurysms, caution and hesitancy be damned, to escorted retributive strife.

Beyond grieving.

Alarming dysfunctions.

The bitter outcast, the conscientious victim, road rage, billeted bombast, chaotic extortion, a bridal blush.

Consequences abound.

Social media condemns then rectifies.

Punishment, misfortune, degradation, resilience, Relatos salvajes (Wild Tales) passionately revels in ambiguous cohesion, disobedient in its logic, playful, carnal, means.

The oppressed and the oppressive, skewered kindred collisions, chance, structure, happenstance, mischievously envisioned in/sane tec/tonics.

The rules.

Play by which set of rules?

Immediacy begets fleeting permanence, instantaneous conception, sudden breaking news.

Chef

Don't know what to make of Jon Favreau's Chef.

It has all the ingredients to be a great film, strong cast, relatable situation, strong characters, heartwarming familial pains, a professional individual's difficulties maintaining a sane work/life balance, artistic expression versus profit-based-strategies, cool tattoo, emphasis on resiliency, neat way to move forward, chill sophisticated artistry sustaining a team, acclimatizations to contemporary phenomenons (social networking issues), crisis, tenacity, rebirth, economic realities respected in terms of friendship, change, coming together, growth, it inspires its audience to diversify their outputs, family friendly yet not picture perfect, imbroglios, composure.

I like all of these things.

But Chef just wasn't my style.

Ah well.

The Social Network

I'm on Facebook every single day. Mostly just to play Scrabble but also to see the news items etc. that friends have designated as worthy of sharing. And to see who is adhering to the art of creating compelling Facebook Profile Status Updates. It's not the easiest thing to do although its analysis depends upon which of the myriad factors one's disposition chooses to exalt as wrought iron synthetic principles at that specific time, which depends upon how that day's events have individually affected his or her historical constitution. Even if you have principles that you always apply it depends upon how those principles align themselves with and are interpreted by your personality's unique composition at that given moment. I'm just trying to say that it must be fun being a judge.

David Fincher's The Social Network examines how Facebook came to be, placing its provocative genesis within a generally non-judgmental framework. Harvard student Mark Zuckerberg (Jesse Eisenberg) is distraught regarding a relationship that has gone sour and engages in cybershenanigans in order to reestablish his sense of self. Said shenanigans impress three other students who resultantly share their idea for a social networking site, hoping that he will join their team. However, believing he can improve on their idea and develop it on his own, with a little help from his friends, Zuckerberg breaks and predominantly partners with his best friend Eduardo (Andrew Garfield) instead. But differing philosophies concerning how the company should be managed significantly rupture their bond, and the film unreels by staggering two simultaneous lawsuits with the practical details composing their judicial trajectories.

Zuckerberg comes across as exceptionally shrewd and benefits economically and culturally if not socially from his endeavours. The film's well structured (especially the opening scene), thankfully providing unnecessary depth for some of its characters while realigning our attention every couple of minutes or so. Generalizations regarding personalities are delivered incisively (internally speaking) and the difficulties of fantastically capturing the legal realities disrupting Zuckerberg's life are handled well (the scenes are terse and kitschy yet volatile and characteristic [the form 'distilling' the undergraduate personality]). Sean Parker's (Justin Timberlake) introduction effectively breaks up the narrative, functioning as a transformative bridge much like that in David Bowie's "Changes." And although the breakdown of Zuckerberg and Saverin's friendship is a little tough to take, at least its resolution sees some ethics transferred to the world of business. After lengthy, expensive, legal proceedings.

Well, I'm about to check Facebook for the 16th time today in order to see if that ukelele jam's still on for tomorrow and whether or not I can score a Scrabble bingo. Why did T_______ post that picture? That's not going to go over well. I would start my own zoo but you can't design it from scratch and I want a zoo that only contains different types of bears. This kind of functionality isn't present people . . !