Family Switch

The title's misleading. 

The rebellious self-obsessed years during which curiosity is severely criticized, and traditional wholesome old school activities condescendingly dismissed with haughty verisimilitude. 

The resultant antithetical shockwaves producing unsettling bland confusion, as festive recourse to playful jocosity sincerely struggles amidst the pretension. 

It's the Holiday Season in High School and the Walker Family is bitterly composed, having lost the communicative cohesion that once underscored their familial unity.

Mom's (Jennifer Garner) got a big presentation and daughter CC (Emma Myers) might make the national soccer team, Wyatt's (Brady Noon) hoping to get into Yale and his father's (Ed Helms) band has a unique opportunity.

Usually, the power of Christmas would unflinchingly aid their courageous misadventures, and by harnessing the spirit of the season they would proceed confident and emboldened. 

The unextinguished light fails to constructively guide them however.

Until they stop by a local observatory.

Where corporeal mischief interpersonally accrues.

Given the flamboyant opportunity to craft ebullient effervescent dreams, Family Switch's yuletide extravagance lucidly facilitates transmutation.

It's more like Die Hard nevertheless, more like a movie that takes place at Christmas, the Holiday Season popping up from time to time but by no means the predominant focus.

The otherworldly transformations seemed a bit too studio as well, as if an eccentric mystical expert wasn't consulted when shooting the scenes.

A missed opportunity: when the neighbourhood wives show up and start grilling CC and Wyatt, who are stuck in their mom and dad's bodies, individual criticisms are shared. But without accompanying close ups (think the end of Crocodile Dundee). The focus thus remains on CC and Wyatt. If each individual criticism had been announced with its own striking close up, the collegial balance between supporting and principal actors would have been more universally sustained. 

Part of the narrative directly celebrates teamwork so the point is eventually made. There's actually a lot of cool in this film. They put a lot of time and effort into it (try and find like 6 Christmas films or films that take place at Christmas to watch, some of them don't attempt to excel that much).  

I thought the acting improved a lot after the body switches and the actors starting pretending to play someone else 😜, I don't know if that was intentional, but the secondary characteristic investments paid imaginative dividends. 

I also thought it made a lot of clever points about family, and was thoughtfully designed to bring disgruntled folks back together during the holidays without being too preachy or overbearing.

Director McG should score points for ensuring the cast and crew took things really seriously.

The cast and crew should score multiplie points for creating a year round Christmas film. 

Even without the mind-blowing mysticism. 

Christmas in California.

Worth checkin' out. 

King Richard

Sheer uncompromising confidence proactively proceeds with undaunted integrity, as a father is so sure his daughters are peerless, he ignores countless established conventions as they train.

The best in the business lay it down to haplessly explain the traditional course, if you want to excel in the world of tennis, you play what are called "juniors" to prepare for the pros.

They're a series of tournaments for tenacious young players who want to improve their skills through competition, and it's through their heuristic happenstance professional aptitude efficiently emerges.

But Mr. Williams thought differently it's really remarkable what he did, he found the junior circuit so demanding and overbearing that he decided to take his girls out of it.

He was so certain that they could turn pro without competing throughout their youth, he drove some of the most knowledgeable coaches nuts as he consistently refuted their industrious know-how.

I applaud his sublime logic, he wanted his girls to have a childhood and do well in school, he didn't want them to only have tennis to look back on by the time they retired should they turn pro.

Imagine ignoring so many tried and true methods while hoping to do something even the best find next to impossible.

And have everything work out.

Your unprecedented courage rewarded.

It's like a real-life Disney film where inherent miracles nurture impeccability, where a family's guts and raw determination overcome incredible odds to become the world's best.

A parenting team aware of their potential prowess never taking no for a definitive answer, even when dozens of people tell them it's simply impossible and constantly dismiss them with words of wisdom.

So devoted to their family so aware of their unmatched talent, they persevere above and beyond even the most daring unorthodox methods.

But at the same time they want their kids to have a childhood they can pleasantly remember, one where they still chilled out and did fun things while still training to redefine the superlative.

I have to admit, I like these parenting methods, they're very holistic and reasonably balanced.

And Venus and Serena Williams did go on to become the best in the world.

This story's outstanding.

The American dream. 

*Not to mention an Oscar for Will Smith!

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.

Waves

As much as you may want to debate it, it's her choice, her decision.

Not an easy decision to make if you haven't prepared for it, and support is key to easing the pressure if uncertainty's fogging things up.

There's no easy way to discuss these things, if you don't like discussing them, but if you are sexually active you should be prepared for the possibility of childbirth, and there are steps you can take to make sure pregnancy's highly unlikely, if you're not ready to have a child and are hoping to finish school or get a promotion, beforehand.

I'd use condoms even if my partner was on the pill to ensure a double line of defence, until such a time as we were both ready to child rear; it's probably the most serious responsibility there is.

But if I didn't want to have a child and she did, I would respect her decision. If she asked for my counsel, I would present my arguments, but it's her decision in the end, either way, and certainly not mine. Upon hearing her decision, I would do my best to prepare for fatherhood (nothing can prepare you for it) should she have chosen to have the child, and accept my nascent responsibilities. You may find as you grow older that you like having the little ones around. I certainly didn't way back when, as I was studying and working while travelling.

It's important to respect her decision.

That's the price for all the carefree fun.

Sincerest woe descends in Trey Edward Shults's Waves after confrontation leads to animosity, as two high school seniors discuss unplanned parenthood and can't come close to seeing eye to eye.

Opioid addiction clouds Tyler Williams's (Kelvin Harrison Jr.) judgment as he struggles to comprehend, an unfortunate injury jeopardizing his wrestling career too, he can't deal, even as people try to help him.

The film's quite well done, with the best cinematography I've seen in a while (Drew Daniels), the camerawork delicately louring you in to its breezy narrative flow, the current heaving as it helplessly adjusts to wayward distraught cataclysm, so felicitous early on, heartfelt ebb and flow.

Waves.

It spends one act presenting a golden road that's fraught with peril and distraction, the other romanticizing first love as a family comes to terms with its grief.

The father's (Sterling K. Brown as Ronald Williams) a good provider but also super, "this is my house!", which frustrates his teenage son who's constantly under his watchful eye.

It's a shame it takes extreme hardship for him to learn to apply the messages he absorbs without thinking, habitually.

But as he lets go of himself and stops trying to control things, as he waits for solutions to be organically presented instead of trying to generate them through authority, his family begins to heal through logical/emotional balance, and he starts to listen to what others have to say instead of just telling them what to do.

Family isn't the army or work.

I've always thought family was a safe haven beyond strict codes of conduct.

Where you learn responsibility at play.

Without having to worry about being fired.

Brought to light at special times of the year.

Sweet lattes.

Eggnog shakes.

The Grizzlies

A small community in Nunavut struggles with alcoholism, drug addiction, and suicide, as traditional ways backed up by authentic millennia merge with the legacy of the residential school system.

Strong hunters still persevere, establishing direct links with their ancient descendants.

And some students see the benefits of rigorous study, even if practical applications don't readily present themselves.

It truly is another world, a diverse alternative spirituality.

Inaccessible by road.

Blanketed by the midnight sun.

A somewhat naive teacher lands in this far off realm, unaware of local realities yet determined to make a difference.

He's clueless as the film begins but isn't hardhearted or dismissive.

He listens to local concerns and adjusts his teaching style accordingly.

Well-versed in lacrosse lore, he decides to start up a local team, his dedication and tenacity inspiring local youth, who are hesitant to join yet still curious.

Sports can help combat substance abuse in any community inasmuch as they encourage constructive goals.

If the choice is between loosing oneself in booze and drugs or joining a team that builds character through discipline, I'll take the latter every time.

It's not that simple in The Grizzlies because the community isn't affluent and economic hardships present conflicting responsibilities.

Some kids can't play on a team because they're needed at home, and since the lacrosse team is something new, some families and teachers have troubling believing in its positive effects.

During a town meeting where the team tries to obtain funds to attend a tournament down South, many citizens voice reasonable concerns in opposition, and it's a situation where no one's really right or wrong, but some options take precedence over others.

It's tough to see the benefits of alternative ideas at times and easy to dismiss them. They may seem like they conflict with time honoured traditions at first because they still haven't found a way to culturally co-exist amongst them, and putting food on the table's top priority without a doubt, and sometimes playing games can seem just a little bit silly.

Sports can be a bit ra-ra at times but they promote teamwork, healthy living, interdependence, and communal strength.

They make a huge difference for the lives of the kids in The Grizzlies, and open up doors many residents thought had been shut, permanently.

The North needs dedicated teachers like Russ Shephard (Ben Schnetzer) who are humble enough to adapt to local customs which can teach them to become community leaders.

The North has so much to offer and living there's an experience like none other.

If students have trouble seeing the benefits of education in remote Northern communities, perhaps focusing on astronomy could make a difference.

The night sky is as practical in the North as a transit system is in a city.

I don't see why astronomy can't be used to synthesize the study of math, art, sport and science.

There are endless applications.

Relevant in any age.

Fences

Friendship, family, filaments and filibusters, Denzel Washington's Fences (based upon the play by August Wilson) encloses dreams and protests and confrontations within a patriarchal shard, not that there isn't a willingness to entertain, as long as his fam remembers who's regally legion.

Potatoes and lard.

He's sacrificed a lot to responsibly take care of things, but his personal experience blinds him to the realities facing his youngest son (Jovan Adepo as Cory), who has a shot at playing professional football, even if dad had to spend his career on the sidelines (baseball).

The answer lies within the stories he dramatically tells, stories which enthusiastically explain how the United States changed over the course of the last 40 years (the film's set in the 1950s), meaning that if America's current composition is resoundingly different from that within which he wildly grew up, the tough lessons he learned through his trials may no longer directly apply to his son's struggles, a son who may therefore have opportunities that were cruelly denied him.

He can't understand the new, he can't comprehend change.

He's hard on his wife Rose (Viola Davis) as well, delivering a devastating blow just as their lives start to become less burdensome.

No settling into old age.

No moving on to greener pastures.

It's not as sad as all that when you listen to him telling his tales, nevertheless, when you watch as he multidimensionally exhales fiction, reverie, and fact.

Denzel (Troy) delivers a brilliant performance full of love, contempt, joy, confusion, understanding, obstinacy, fear, and courage, if you ever wondered why he's been so successful for the last thirty years, Fences offers distinct evidence, as Washington proves that he's far beyond playing typecast roles, that he can indeed competently display intricate multilateral e/motions.

While playing a regular guy.

Viola Davis excels as well.

The film's reminiscent of adaptations of Tennessee Williams or Edward Albee plays, an expansive, caring, sophisticated, realistically controversial examination of real people living hard lives, who aren't afraid to share extended thoughts and commentaries.

Lives being lived, power struggles crisp and bold.

Brief moments of tantalizing largesse.

Rustling through rhythms.

Struggles struck and starchy.

Electric portions.

Le règne de la beauté (An Eye for Beauty)

With the passing of the years, conjugal ecstasies having become strictly formal, extracurricular assignations suddenly appear enlightening, to two young architects tectonically seeking closure.

Life goes on afterwards, routines residing in recreational parlance, sports celebrating individual merits receiving spectacular extensions, taking on constitutional communal attributes, as the seasons change.

Denys Arcand's Le règne de la beauté (An Eye for Beauty) is a mature film, shrewdly exercising the interrelationship between stability and desire, focusing primarily on a couple living North of Québec City, the incredible beauty of their surrounding landscape, and the traditions of lifelong friends and family.

Do English Canadians really seem that pretentious?

They certainly aren't eating chicken wings.

People don't shop at IKEA?

How much money do you have to have not to shop there?

The film thematically picks up where L'âge des ténèbres left off, Toronto and rural Québec functioning as counterpoints, reservedly climactic events taking place in Québec City.

There's a chilling moment when Luc Sauvageau (Éric Bruneau) meets Lindsay Walker (Melanie Merkosky) there while his wife Stéphanie (Mélanie Thierry) considers suicide back home for unrelated reasons, trickery in the foreshadow, smashing insomniatic guilt, divine connections abstractly suggested thereafter.

A sub/conscious account of individuality, critiquing while elevating bourgeois attainments, Le règne de la beauté matriculates a reasonable desire, subjugates caution, then exculpates.

Tsurugidake: Ten no ki (The Summit: A Chronicle of Stones)

Mountains. Climbin' 'em. Exercising precision in their classification. Work rationalized according to stubborn bureaucratic consistencies. An imperial map in the making.

Japan's military has one more mountain to catalogue before said map can be expertly articulated.

All they need is the right person for the job.

Yoshitaro Shibasaki (Tadanobu Asano) has climbed his fair share of mountains but finds the unconquered Mt. Tsurugidake somewhat intimidating. Pressed by his superiors to perform for posterity he overcomes his initial hesitation, with the aid of volumes delicately cared for by his local librarians, and proceeds unabated. At the risk of offending villagers whose religion forbids challenging Mt. Tsurugidake's treacherous peaks, he finds a local guide (Teruyuki Kagawa as Chojiro Uji) and begins his quest. Together they search for a route to the summit, hoping to outwit the adventurous Alpine Club who has declared they will climb the mountain first, thereby hoping to tarnish the military's reputation.

While Yoshitaro and Chojiro explore using equipment crafted by the ingenuity of the Japanese people, the Alpine Club adopts European technologies.

A number of survey stones must be placed at the top of the peaks which surround Mt. Tsurugidake as well, in order for the military's mapmakers to realize their cartographic ambitions.

Towers must also be built around these stones. Time callously ticks past. A team of courageous individuals is assembled. The snow keeps falling.

Daisaku Kimura's Tsurugidake: Ten no ki (The Summit: A Chronicle of Stones) is an epic tale, modestly crafted according to traditional guidelines. An intransigent macho administration makes shortsighted decisions while a group of bold workers heroically carve new ground. Elsewhere lines are crossed but respect is maintained as openminded resiliency takes into account alternative points of view.

In fact, apart from the military administration, respect permeates every aspect of this film and it was comforting to watch as people didn't get bogged down by petty differences for 139 minutes.

The result is a subjective victory for two tenacious teams who refuse to let the pursuit of an intractable ideal disrupt their herculean achievement.

Sticking together. Trying to find a way. Accepting that the realities structuring certain professions are simply larger than life. And continuing to strive onwards even though survival instincts consistently question the logic of your perseverance.

The creation of this film directly corresponds to the endeavours bravely undertaken internally and externally by its cast, a harmonious collaboration firmly sustained between subject and object.

Semi-Pro

Semi-Pro. The title's even mediocre and obvious. Sometimes this style of comedy works for me, notably Dodgeball, Zoolander, and Old School, but Semi-Pro is everything these comedic standouts are not, almost every joke and situation falling flat, even the scene where Jackie Moon (Will Ferrell) wrestles a bear.

The fundamental sporting comedy plot devices are in place, literally and structurally: a number of small town guys get together as a team and from that team find purpose and meaning for their lives; at the same time, a core group of sort-of-funny comedic actors who can be easily identified (Tim Meadows, Will Arnett, Rob Corddry, Matt Walsh) provide a familiar presence that brings with it some warm and friendly charm, as they fire an unloaded gun at one another while referring to the horrible realities underlying their past and present relationships. But the form needs content, and the content in this film is definitely semi-pro. It’s just awful, nothing works, there's no unity, no feeling, as if they shot the entire film in two weeks, partying hard throughout, but not the good kind of partying, the kind that produced albums like Sticky Fingers and Exile on Main St., the bad kind, the kind that produced It's Only Rock and Roll and Emotional Rescue. Perhaps the most touching moment comes when Woody Harrelson (Monix) teaches Jackie to puke. Yes, I was seriously reminded why its best to steer clear from this genre, from time to time, especially when the film in question doesn't have much of an advertising campaign, and wish I'd seen The Counterfeiters or Up the Yantgze instead. But I was in the mood for brain numbing comedy, of the funny I'm 15 again variety, funny brain numbing comedy, not the stupid and not funny kind, that kind.

The way in which the film proceeds is troubled as well: all of the details describing how Jackie Moon obtained his fortune are mentioned during the opening credits. The audience wants to see these details unfold during the film, quickly, at the beginning, like in Blades of Glory or The Life Aquatic. Also, you need a prominent human villain in the script. This script's villain (Woody Harrelson) was part of the basketball team and ends up being everyone's friend. Unfortunately, this 'spin-move' didn't work and should only be employed if your film also has a strong villain. (The collapse of the league can be seen as a villain as well, but this villain certainly didn't utter any zippy one-liners).

Oh yes, the film is about a struggling B-league basketball team trying to finish in 4th place so that their franchise can be one of four that is permitted to merge with the NBA.

I did like the allegory within one scene however: the American Basketball Association is trying to merge with the NBA so they want to keep a clean image. However, the players want to brawl in every game. Hence, in order to make sure their image remains clean, they save their brawling for commercial breaks, allegorically highlighting the underlying dimension of the prim and proper finished product (a successful presentation delivered by the CEO, a family managing to hide their craziness from one of their children's love interests, . . . ).

Mr. Woodcock

Mr. Woodcock is what it sets out to be: a low-brow comedy full of plenty of cock jokes. If you'd like to see Billy Bob Thorton once again playing a one-dimensional superjock who doesn't take crap from anyone, then Mr. Woodcock is for you, although the jokes run as low-brow as they come and do not stop coming. John Farley (Sean William Scott) has written a best-selling novel regarding getting over the past entitled 'Letting Go: How to Get Past Your Past.' One of the principle agents of Farley's vanquished depression is Jasper Woodcock (Billy Bob Thornton), a callous gym teacher whose sarcastic wit has been lounging in Farley's subconscious for decades. When Farley's hometown of Forest Meadow decides to award him the coveted Corn-Cob-Kee at the town 'Cornivale,' Farley returns home to discover that his mother (Susan Sarandon) is marrying Woodcock. It takes Woodcock all of 10 minutes to drive Farley into a revenge ridden frenzy, as he quickly abandons all of his novel's advice and insanely attempts to break-up their engagement. What remains is like What About Bob? meets Dude Where's My Car?, a sloppy, predictable toilet bowl that's entertaining enough to not warrant a flush. Lines from Farley's book include, "the shortest distance between two people: communication," and "when you make a blame sandwich you've got to be prepared to eat it yourself," while Jasper Woodcock's best line is perhaps: "Farley, I'm just saying you showed some sack out there." Scott and Thornton work well together, fighting and insulting one another throughout, and Sarandon is convincing as Farley's lonely mom. But nothing can save Woodcock from its straight and narrow "Woodcock's having sex with your mom" focus, which encapsulates both the film's central dialogue and action.