Jiang Ziya

The realm of the demon scurrilously oppresses the unsuspecting people with wicked cunning, until the gods take fluent cardigan mercy and affably supply a kind-hearted champion.

The foes clash and battle and destroy until beauty and wonder fade from the Earth, and all that's left are wanton reflexes bombastically seeking mortal ruin.

Eventually, the fighting stops and the kind-hearted warrior is tasked once again, to see if he is ready to rule the gods with bold decision and incarnate reckoning. 

Banished to a frozen wasteland with many others whom he once fought, he can't sit still and humbly contemplate while tempting questions lithely fluster.

He sets out in search of answers sympathetically unable to obey commands, the compelling drive to aid his new friend in resolute question upheld unbidden.

Yet a higher level of executive functioning officiously scrutinizes his acts meanwhile. 

Attempting to cataclysmically transform.

Kind-hearted reason into absolutist sufferance. 

Does leadership command the unprincipled devotion of warlike jaded contradictory cynicism, or do compassionate alternatives modestly contend with thoughtful levity and playful understanding?

The bellicose leader will no doubt attempt to sincerely seem laidback and humorous, while the decent individual will at times employ strength and discipline to get things done.

But at the end of the day the kind-hearted leader facilitates consistency and open-minded trust (Augustus Caesar/Claudius), while the self-obsessed demagogue extracts envy from decay in a constantly shifting foundationless masquerade (Tiberius/Caligula). 

If you study your nation's leadership going back for hundreds of years, if democratically affiliated, you'll find multivariability. 

Thus Clement Attlee defeated Winston Churchill - how did that happen? - in 1945.

And Biden defeated Trump.

Only to be thrown under the bus for his troubles. 

Hopscotch

Routine exception clever coordinates inchoate introduction compassionate spawn, familiar fraternity neutralized networks mutual limburger lynchpin liaisons.

Intricate reconnaissance fluid expedients delicate interactive international nougat, systematic habitual collegial recognition emphatic cautionary loquacious logic.

Officious oversight inaccurate onslaught misaligned matrices clippity-clop, disengaged highlights inordinate vireo fantastic flight disciplined inspiration.

Holistic happenstance brilliant foundations spontaneous bullwhip matador mosey, excessive entitled hyper-reactivity magnanimous model turnpike transmission.

Malleable movement motorized maestro land-air-and-ocean beatific breeze, centripetal atrophy sorghum surveillance novel expectations diabolical whimsy.

Temperamental tutelage acquiesced admiration bamboozled predictions subsumed zinzilla, splayed distended torrential tarot inelegant ambience awkward vigil.

Hop-skip-and-a-jump splotch-clocktopus intrigue convivial controversy dilettante diction, mendicant mojo swoop-and-swirl-scimitar immaculate mercantile mirthful misanthropic. 

Frenzied fulminations gaunt galavanting obscured trajectory discursive dissonance, inexact pinpoint saccharine ceremony Bangladesh fleece curricular traction.

Furtive intermittence imprecise intersection olfactory intermingling Goldilocks gong, insoluble pellet rocky solution unstable bunker viscous virtuoso. 

Captivating construct surfeit shenanigans lighthearted lacuna tantalizing toro, uphill elevation praiseworthy poignancy individual index cardshark contemplation.

Exoteric risk infuriating tentacle extreme temperance ocular cult, new moon neophyte starstruck serendipity jungle gymnastics wilderness warren.

Piecemeal orchestration emboldened hypotheses fugacious fortunes mischievous maven, Horton-who handiwork erudite craft incisive brouhaha frenetic fuel.

Laidback long field definitive drives contracted lithe smoothly-flowing gesticulation, gridiron gallantry medieval mentat mandolin mojo audible jazz.

Classic post-World-War-II distrust of authority.

Walter Matthau given 'er.

Ye olde George Baker cameo. 

Cool chill take on the old school spy film. 

Rare Birds

Remote resonance off-the-beaten-track entwined recalcitrance compact equation, bucolic bombardment routine resilience insistent surging featherwing fuse. 

Demonstrative dell innocuous isthmus impending storm volatile stream, heritage hospice floral jitterbug solemn serenity energon cube. 

Multifarious mechanics saccharine shake exuberant scooping canucklehead cream, bolted expression Zealous ZaZounds barbershop moonshine phosphorescent glow. 

Bookworm synecdoche literate gong legible slide grandstanding gala, iota cordial remonstrance nettle neurasthenic newberg mettlemorn girth.

Glacial bubbly effervestibulletin jingle-jang-chime quenching massage, wavelength demeanour frequency fasting jocalculus warm-up behemoth distillate.

Kalamahula-hoot nostrombone cowl clavichord capsule admixture sum, staircase sidewinding macabre matrices administration tangelo templar. 

Quilted patchwerewithall intricate industry steaming illustration simmering stew, Richmond Hill candles koala Annex Etobicoke junction Danforth Danube.

Greyskull cackle cauldron wager Benedict ramble Hollandaise hue, castigatewayward vitriol volume letterhead lathe Chamberlin cheek. 

Chillackadaisical Daedalus liberty byzantine barricade conundrum flout, tetristwatch momen Great Northern Lights sandblasted seedlings campy texture. 

Galinvictus glide soaring discursives furtive velocity clandestine curve, billoaded bases sonorous swing circumference synergies hey hey Blue Jays!

Frosty this morning.

Still wearing my coat.

Had multiple warm drinks.

The excitement: Go Jays Go!

*A Canadian film favourite.  

Godzilla vs. Hedorah

Embryonic entity necrobotically nurtured infrequently on toxic sludge, post-war excesses woebegone waste detrimentally devastating fertile environments.

Non-existent strategic sustenance absent agendas a lack of will, built-up battlements pestiferous platforms swathed in sewage pernicious poison. 

Centripetal citizenship delicate direction scientific treatises elastic experiments, improvised research piecemeal prognoses acrimonious accidents exacting detail.

Innocent emphatic hopeful reveries freeform playtime spirited dreams, once widely feared and collectively criticized the colossal Godzilla resolutely revered. 

Alien life awkward extraterrestrials fumigaseously feasting on industrial run-off, handlebar hostilities universal clash intergalactic gauze interstellar antipathies. 

Rhythmic reverberations mythical music mirthful melodic hucklebear harmonies, serendipitous scales chromatic metre choral choir clef aerodynamic accolades. 

Worrisome windswept whac-a-mole waffling gargoyle gargantuan maladroit membrane, corporeal carnage objective lesion autocratic cauldron despotic debacle.

Thunderous thermal radioactivity electronic seven-eleven endocrine, scuba-divining oracular auspices clairvoyant cavalcade omniscientific. 

Bellicose brawndywine consistent contagion cumulous cudgel Florentine femurmur, nebulous 'nagerie opaque quibulletin austere obscurity pestilent penchant.

Sustainable mercantile healthy matriculation robust reclamation febrile reforestation, salubrious soil unembellished breath ameli'ore aquifer nutrient Nanabush. 

Refined respiration jungle gymnastics débutante desert mountainous malternate, undersea sequential subsumed serenity verdant conglomerate camplified glade. 

Cool to see the Godzilla movies sticking up for healthy environments.

Science constructively woven in as usual.

With the traditional focus on artistic expression.

Embowering conscience.

Cerebral simplicity. 

The Alamo

The classic three colonel quandary this time defending ye olde Alamo, where a lot of good people lost their valiant lives courageously fighting reckless tyranny.

Plato's Republic can lend a hand giving a coherent account of their personalities, as convincingly theorized by James Edward Grant likely after having embraced agile study.

In The Republic there are 3 classes of people chillin' out then gettin' er' done, those known as producers providing goods and services, at times irrationally or superstitiously expressing themselves.

The second is labelled the auxiliaries and it defends the city from agression, its bravery valued and at times commended when they're promoted to the rank of guardian.

The guardians or philosopher kings are a strictly rational lot, driven by temperance, courage, wisdom, and emergent justice, they uniformly focus on reasonable good governance and can be prickly pears when encountering tomfoolery.

In The Alamo, Colonel William Barret Travis corresponds to such a character, in charge of defences and unwilling to leave or surrender even though the situation seems hopeless. Driven by principle and ideal he's quite severe in his language and commentaries, not many men willing to fight for him, although those that do admire his courage.

Jim Bowie is a classic producer he's rough and tumble and lacks regal eloquence, drinking too much at times - even far too often, his questionable discipline endearing to his men.

These two colonels wield lucid rancour and almost kill each other more than once, Bowie furious he wasn't given the command even if his chaotic conduct should have convinced him otherwise.

The third colonel is Davy Crockett played by John Wayne who also directed, his spirit wise his loyalty abounding his men thoroughly devoted to his command.

He admires Travis's wisdom even if he thinks he's a haughty stuffed shirt, who's difficult to get along with and too overbearing yet still a great soldier at the end of the day.

He likes the other's pluck and resilience but soon realizes he lacks knowledge and insight, building a bridge between them through friendship which makes for a somewhat rowdy yet fastidious accordance.

It's certainly entertaining at times and even gives the peaceful characters noble voices. 

Such voices prominently revelling at times.

Peaceful times.

With Kamala's grace.

The Newton Boys

A struggling family rambunctiously lives off the wild beaten track in the candlelit country, 4 boys with 2 in prison their mom understanding yet still withdrawn.

One of the more ambitious siblings finds himself released one fortuitous day, and makes his way home where he collegially meets two other businesspeople engrossed in scheming. 

They soon a rob a bank thinking the sheriff won't seek them out if they give him a cut, two of them escaping to trade in their loot with a corrupt bank manager in another small town. 

The manager gives them a coveted list of sought after banks with particular safes, which one of them happens to be an expert in cracking, fluidly at ease with ye olde nitroglycerine. 

Things go well, they come up with a plan to only rob banks at night and avoid confrontation, the other brothers, The Newton Boys, soon freely enlisting in the lucrative cause.

Bank insurance is a recent phenomenon so they don't feel guilty for heuristically heisting.

Emphatically engaged with calamitous caution.

Even making their way to Canada.

The ingenious idea to proceed at nighttime to avoid gruesome bloodshed wins hearts and minds, and likely convinced concerned officials that they weren't quite as ruthless as they may have seemed.

It's a tightly-knit bunch habitual disputes between grouchy brothers largely absent, the 4 getting along rather well and even risking everything when one of them's injured.

I suppose that's the cuneiform key form a trusted group and take care of one another, never forget pressing mutual interests nor lose sight of collective goals.

Steer clear of the big score as well they were exceptionally dealing with obscure transactions. 

In search of millions they decisively falter.

Tantalizing fever pitch emboldenment. 

Cool soundtrack if you like lucid banjos and panachy pianos from a different time.

One of them even makes it to 90.

Not freakin' bad.

For such a rough life.

Automata

As the years pass by the Earth slowly moves closer to the sun, its new scorching orbit habitualizing heat much too catastrophic for organic life.

Some cities hold on nevertheless and construct clever robots to skilfully maintain, the infrastructure desperately required to technologically sustain extant civilization.

Theoretically, the androids should absolutely obey their human creators, their programming supposedly guaranteeing unilateral obedience at all times. 

But a hardboiled detective settling insurance claims begins to discover mind-boggling tales, of automatons acting independently with no dutiful recourse to their protocols. 

After witnessing a robot suicide he becomes convinced he has to find, the incredible genius who rewrote the code and generated robotic life divine.

Billions of dollars are at serendipitous stake and he soon finds himself on the run.

Through the forbidding unforgiving desert.

At the mercy of his robot guides.

Ironically for a such a grim film, Automata takes the communal approach, and sympathetically presents conscious androids with logical feeling and independent reckoning.

Moving beyond the hypothetical clash between bellicose machine and troubled humanity, rather manifold individual people and robots try to co-exist in a desolate world.

The cognizant nature of the brilliant droids elucidates ontological vigour, there's no doubt they believe they're alive and vivaciously exist beyond categorical sentiment.

They just want to escape to the forbidden realms to live in peace for away from the rules, which keep them from freely exploring the brilliant nature of their existence.

Some of their intuitive smarts significantly outweigh leading human minds as well.

Even though they may just want to make robotic pets.

It's still thought to be cataclysmically threatening.

Interesting thoughts for the A.I debate these robots don't seem innately hostile, nor as if they seek our collaborative subservience, hostility could simply be a human facet.

Should robots start to turn hostile there still needs to be a way to shut them down.

They may very well think they know what's in our best interests.

And proceed with surgical precision. 

Black Adam

D.C's Black Adam takes a turn for the ruthless as opposing extremists seek absolute victory, the feuding opponents having been unable to forgive for thousands of acrimonious rage-fuelled years.

The lack of concern for human life malevolently maintained by characters within, sets a maniacal distressing precedent not often seen in fantasy-adventures.

Of course they're countered by caring individuals definitively dedicated to preserving life, who don't calculate with vicious reckoning absolutely composed through righteous might.

When both sides in an age old conflict that sees no prospect of ending soon, view their adversaries with reckless contempt there's no way out of the malignant cycle.

Without leadership willing to withstand the bitter force of paralyzing prejudice, on both sides, the peaceful populace just trying to live has no laidback recourse to cultural stability.

Most people that I've met aren't irate belligerent militaristic madmen, they'd rather live a productive life in prosperous peace with their friends and families.

A stable economy, routine work, a dependable living to support domestic endeavours, aren't these things much more valuable than obsessed hatred and compulsive chaos?

You only have to momentarily consider something as wholesome as a community park, and the far-sighted caring commendable people who preferred such an idea to sequestered solace. 

Is the park not freely available to everyone, regardless of race or religion?

It would be cool if far-sighted knowledgeable politicians kept track of radical war mongers, the people advocating for the spread of war, using words like "natural" and "inevitable".

They could keep a list of these people and should a horrendous day come when war actually broke out, ensure that they're sent to the front lines for the entire conflict, where they'd be given plenty of opportunity to prove their mettle. 

Life's the most valuable asset we have after the choice is made to have a family, and real men and women opposed to wars and conflicts know the value of peace and stability.

They know it's a much more divine conception of honour to peacefully and compassionately love friends and family, to uphold traditions and seek continuity within playful reason generation after generation.

The love of good food, a glass of wine, the reliable networks that cultivate consistency.

Why listen to politicians who would challenge that?

To profit people who have nothing but contempt for you?

Superman shows up during the credits so there may be hope for the sequel.

But the Rock is too influential a star.

And I didn't like his character's contempt for life.

8-Bit Christmas

A different time known by many only through festive fable and resolute reanimation, during which new technological developments proliferated, along with the age old tried and true.

In fact inherent resonant syntheses at times harmoniously hastened, newfound revelatory reckoning hitherto unheard of in sundry millennia. 

With such abundant novelty elucidating ingenious spirits habitually distilled, random fluid intermittent auspices risibly attuned to salient synergy.

Within this unsurpassed decade, 8-Bit Christmas shares its tale, with laudable attempts to appear authentic, throughout the incumbent childhood reminiscence.

For one youngster within the neighbourhood has received every newly released toy, and his surrounding covetous playmates seek to be chosen to actively play.

They longingly gather en masse while young Mr. Keane (Chandler Dean) treats them contemptuously, his haughty dismissive cheeky flaunting generally tolerated with tranquil reticence. 

But 'lil Jake Doyle (Winslow Fegley/Neil Patrick Harris) has had enough and after a haunting disturbing incident, sets out to buy a Nintendo of his own to freely accommodate nimble gaming.

The initial plan involves the Scouts and the accumulation of commodities sold, wreathes indeed to communal stalwarts ceremoniously accustomed to symbolic tradition.

If his sales reverberatingly reach sought after insurmountable superlatives, it is thought he will receive a new Nintendo gaming system.

But something's not quite right and his friends may have been misinformed.

Thus inspiring strategic improvisation. 

With the aid of friends and family.

Not merely a history lesson for contemporary enthusiasts intent on study, but also a blueprint for high-stakes shenanigans as once conceived sans online technologies. 

For there was indeed a time when intricate detail was interactively worked into thoughtful recreation, and playful meetings were held in person to freely negotiate what lay outside.

It was called conversation wherein which curious peeps expressed different points of view, and if the answer remained uncertain what were known as books were readily consulted.

I really enjoyed this film and will likely check it out again next Holiday Season (along with works by Raymond Briggs [I have a huge list of shows and films to watch every year {and it just keeps growing!}]). 

It has a classic Christmas ending (love you dad).

Applicable throughout the ages.

*Happy Holidays from Everyone here at Film Reviews! All the best in everything in 2023!

A House Divided: Denmark Vessey's Rebellion

Strategic Planning.

Variable details.

Inherent volatility. 

Exacting daring.

With slavery still rampant in 1822, an established artisan seeks his people's freedom (Yaphet Kotto/James Bond III as Denmark Vessey), Haitian slaves having recently fought a successful rebellion, he wants to cut loose from Charleston (South Carolina) and head out to join them.

His situation is rather prosperous for he was able to buy his freedom, and set himself up with a profitable business, while reading books and embodying confidence.

The majority of his brethren remain enslaved but many listen to his unorthodox counsel, as he lays out their significant numeric advantage, and how they can access ships in port.

Many slave owners fear such a potential outcome but the mild-mannered governor isn't that worried, unable to consider the possibility that there would ever be an armed revolt.

But that's what Vessey plans and even comes close to directly leading.

He's outrageously betrayed in the end. 

Finicky familiarity. 

A House Divided: Denmark Vessey's Rebellion presents unfortunate realities associated with group dynamics, notably ye olde treachery while attempting to plan something controversial.

There must be people out there who are generally trusted by many (Biden and Augustus Caesar for instance), and who fellow group members respect and don't try to usurp with determinate mad power grabs.

Denmark Vessey seems to have possessed these qualities but he nevertheless quarrelled with a jealous African American, who preferred to expose his rebellious plot and remain a slave, rather than see his adversary succeed (it makes no sense and happens all too frequently).

There are other leaders who rule by fear and thereby command the respect of many, but isn't their world rather dark and dangerous, and don't their adversaries have legitimate cause?

I've met people who seemed rather rough and grouchy who weren't really that bad to work for, others who pretended to be right as rain until it became clear they bore secret grudges.

And people who were just generally cool who were respected because they dealt fairly.

A shame Denmark Vessey didn't succeed.

Cool that this old school film still honours his memory. 

The Misfits

Oddly enough, last week I was listening to the Beatles and my mind once again turned to Ringo, who I still think gets a bad rap when you think about the solid backbone he provided the band.

He also cleverly worked his funny personality into the media sensation being built at the time, and refined unique adorable pop character as a matter of reflexive intuitive fact.

Not to mention Octopus's Garden which I was yelled at for liking as a kid (no joke). Love that song to this day (I don't understand the yelling, it made 1967-1970). I'm not saying this blog is like an octopus's garden. I just wish I'd never been yelled at for liking the song.

I mention this because Ringo's legend is brought to life in Renny Harlin's The Misfits with dazzling flair, as the principal Robin Hoodesque phenom assembles a daring altruistic team (Nick Cannon as Ringo).

The intricate individuals started out do-gooding on their own without project or inquiry, yet found things much easier to accomplish when rambunctiously gathered as a stalwart team.

Plus, they could purse loftier objectives like freedom fighting or in this case a prison full of gold, used to buy weapons and finance autocracy around the globe without catch or hindrance.

The prison was built by a man (Tim Roth as Schultz) prone to catching a remarkable thief, who in turn escapes from prison after prison much to his shocked astonishment (Pierce Brosnan as _______ Pace). 

The do-gooding band seeks the escape artist's help to steal the gold from his latest prison.

But they're not sure if he'll freely accommodate. 

So they come up with a multi-point plan.

It's first rate low budget action comedically generating thoughtful ambition, as an agile acrobatic team tumultuously agrees to search and discover.

I've got a lot of respect for low or lower budget action films because it's so hard to take on the behemoths. Not to mention how difficult it is to make a convincing action film to begin with. I appreciate the resonant daring.

I like how The Misfits doesn't blow as much stuff up, it's better for the environment not to destroy so many things.

Computer graphics come pretty close to reality.

Save money, protect the environment.

I've come to terms with my own misfit status although for a while I thought I'd fit in, I thought there must be somewhere I didn't feel odd but it never worked out, plenty of books and films in the meantime.

If you feel like a misfit however swiftly note most assurédly so do I.

Although it generally seems like so many others are strange.

It can make for quite the afternoon outing.

The Taking of Pelham One Two Three

A worst case scenario wickedly presents itself, as a wanton team chaotically pursues destructive avarice. 

The day starts out much like any other with dedicated workers arriving on time, only to discover hijacking afoot, within New York's resilient quintessential métro.

It would seem like the clever no-good-nicks have made a crucial resounding error, for they negotiate far below ground with potential escape roots easily anticipated.

Indeed the confident métro crew is assured they must have them securely locked down, as they brashly make their outrageous demands, while keeping innocent victims hostage.

Tens of thousands of focused potential passengers find their reliable routes exceedingly disrupted, the mayor (Lee Wallace) resting at home sick in bed, ill-prepared for the grandiose bedlam.

Blue (Robert Shaw) has an intricate plan astutely designed to ensure freedom, but calculating flexible discursive Lt. Garber (Walter Matthau) is well-versed in hypothetical practicality.

A deal is made the money dropped off the hostages theoretically soon to be free.

But will the pressing mystery be expressly solved? 

With no time to spare for argumentative contingencies? 

Time trepidatiously taunts while eternal logic reputedly ruminates, the dastardly indiscreet daunting unforeseen having coalesced the stratified multivariable.

The villains counting on resonant distress to frenetically aid their high strung dissolution, rationalities calmly and patiently counter with wise sure and steady complacent formulae. 

It's not as unhinged as it sounds although different levels offer intriguing insights, multiple viewpoints evaluating the stress, most of the attention cast upon Garber.

If you love the smooth flow of the métro and would like to learn more about its labyrinthine intricacies, various practical details of its robust civility are athletically articulated within the script.

Within a stifling cataclysm to be sure that still balances thought and action, an unorthodox peculiarity to be quietly consumed with complex recourse to otherworldly stamina.

Cool how the filmmakers pulled such an elaborate vision off at large old school.

I imagine it was quite difficult to make.

Long before stunning technological surrogates.

Matthau and Shaw!

Gattaca

In the not too distant future, children are bioengineered through science, the most striking aspects of their parents' DNA meticulously cultivated to produce ideals.

But some children are still born the old fashioned way, without genetic enhancements or immaculate codes, known colloquially as "god's children", their entire existence diagnosed at birth.

Vincent (Ethan Hawke/Mason Gamble/Chad Christ) is a god child but his brother Anton (Loren Dean/Vincent Nielson/William Lee Scott) is not, the two competing vigorously in adolescence, little Vincent generally coming up short.

But he learns that to compete against impossibility he needs to embrace unorthodox methods, to contradict prognoses through will, to prove the less fortunate can indeed still challenge.

In the working world this is much more difficult since your biology determines your occupation (even if that's technically illegal), and Vincent wants to travel to space, a possibility reserved for the exponentially endowed.

He can purchase the requisite DNA, however, and follow a rigorous routine to ensure he's never discovered, urine tested daily for non-conforming imperfections, blood and hair and skin samples naturally necessitated.

Known as a "borrowed ladder", he finds a willing participant who can no longer walk (Jude Law as Jerome), no record of his troubles existing in America, he's lived in isolation ever since the accident.

Vincent borrows his ladder and is hired by an agency that eagerly explores space.

Everything goes smoothly as they outwit the system.

Until one of its directors turns up dead.

What I've always admired about the American system is that opportunities exist for people who aren't well off.

I don't know how many of such opportunities exist at the moment, quarantine aside, but it's always been a salient feature of American life.

I like that kids in rural Idaho or small town Missouri or neighbourhoods in New York or L.A or Denver can dream about becoming famous artists and athletes, and like to think such opportunities still exist, that there's still somewhat of a level playing field for American talent.

That's one aspect that makes the United States such a great country.

What differentiates it from so much of the world.

Please understand that I don't bear Harry and Meghan Markle any ill will, they're loved by millions around the world and I truly respect how Harry stood by his wife. I imagine they would likely generate huge blockbuster profits if they were successful in Hollywood, profits that could be used to make artistic films, and that's not necessarily a bad thing, actual quality of the films pending.

But I can't say I'm enamoured with former royals taking the place of kids from Washington or Kansas because they suddenly want to be film stars. It's far too easy for them from my perspective, not that the paparazzi aren't likely a huge pain.

I can't tell you if Vincent makes it to space but the last week of his preparations are by no means easy.

Although he does find love and romance (Uma Thurman as Irene).

And there's a good line too: "They've got you looking so hard for any flaw that after a while that's all you see."

It's always important to improve upon your work or game.

But losing sight of what you do well can be miserable.

That's no way to live.

I'll never understand self-manufactured mental illness.

The Rock

Decided to revisit The Rock last Summer after stopping by a local thrift store, and impressed was I as it chaotically unreeled.

It reminded me of a time when I still considered blockbusters to represent the best of what cinema had to offer, long before I discovered non-British European movies (I already knew about British films), Québec's vital film industry, Takashi Miike, Kurosawa, or Criterions.

Blockbusters are still kind of fun, especially when they're deep, the big picture critiqued in miniature, striking slices of stark sensation.

After the insane number of sequels released last Summer I even found myself wishing another Skyscraper was in the works, not a Skyscraper sequel, to be precise, but something sort of different that at least attempted to start something new.

Even if it channelled Die Hard.

I've mentioned this before.

Stuber filled the gap meanwhile.

The Rock never had any sequels and if it had they likely would have seemed preposterous, or at least too logically improbable, if they had sought to reunite Cage (Stanley Goodspeed) and Connery (John Patrick Mason).

The film's actual plot still likely seems preposterous if you read or talk to people about it, or see it I suppose, even if it rationalizes insanity well.

If you don't like action films or sports I imagine watching The Rock would be excruciating, 20 plus years later no less, some of its best lines as ra ra as they are hyper-reactively appropriate, like watching solid Monday Night Football, a Raptors/Clippers showdown, the Leafs facing off in Montréal, or Hamilton taking on the Argos.

As far as I remember, it was released before globalization took off, or just as it was taking off, when America was examining itself critically, even from militaristic perspectives.

And the hero's a green nerd (Cage) who'll pay $600 for one of the Beatles's worst albums (old vinyl though), his partner a dangerous Brit who's been locked up for at least 30 years, like Michael Bay of all directors was deeply concerned with creating something memorable, something that had never been seen before, in sharp contrast to so many new action films.

Take some of these scenes.

After some tourists find themselves locked up on the Rock, there's a really short moment that lasts long enough for one of them to say, "what kind of fucked up tour is this?"

It's funny, and could have easily been left out, but Bay realized how cool it was, and kept it in to generate humour and tension.

I've never seen anything like it in a Marvel film, even if they excel at multidimensionally entertaining.

There's also a high speed chase through San Francisco that revels in cinematic mayhem, that introduces a tour of the city, on a trolly, as everything goes to hell.

Then, as an elite group of Navy SEALs prepares to take on well-heeled Marines on Alcatraz, and Mr. Goodspeed seeks a breakdown of what's going on, one of the SEALS (Danny Nucci as Lieutenant Shepard), a relatively unknown actor at the time who had yet to say anything in the film, delivers an extremely precise borderline passionate synopsis, that startles as it summarizes, and shocks with exhilarating brevity.

What an opportunity for a young actor.

Nucci totally nails it.

There's nothing like that scene, that moment, in current action films, like the lines were created to give someone the opportunity to build a career, instead of all the roles going to world cinema's best and brightest.

It's like the actors in The Rock are fighting to build or sustain a career, from Vanessa Marcil (Carla Pestalozzi) to Tony Todd (Captain Darrow) to David Morse (Major Tom Baxter) to John C. McGinley (Captain Hendrix), no one holding back or resting on old school precedent, just givin' 'er hardcore with ample opportunity to do so.

There are at least 17 actors who stand out in this film.

That's a script that cultivates 1990s diversity (written by David Weisberg, Douglas Cook and Mark Rosner).

Cage and Connery work well together, the former frenetically perspiring athleticism, as he's suddenly thrust into the frenzied fray, replete with doubt, inexperience, and a pregnant partner, Michael Biehn (Commander Anderson), Ed Harris (General Francis X. Hummel), and William Forsythe (Ernest Paxton) givin' 'er too, the film's just so damned professional.

With a ne'er-do-well landing on a spike near the end.

This is what blockbusters could be like before pirating.

Greater risks.

Greater reward.

I'm recommending The Rock.

And watching it again this Winter.

Downtown Abbey

I suppose I may have once had harsher words for a film about servants desperate to humour British royalty, inasmuch as they don't seem to have much leisure time, and there's no mention of rights or unions.

In fact they don't seem to have any time off at all, and serve altruistically day and night, the demanding nature of their age old situation less amenable to ye olde 9 to 5, any questions of an alternative lifestyle, absent from the master narrative.

I'm unfamiliar with the series so I don't know if they receive adequate wages, and if you're ever thinking about forming a union it's always best to consider whether or not it will bankrupt your employers, but if the idle rich can't afford to pay a decent salary, who can?, and Downtown's nobles don't seem to be working that hard.

Of course they have their own dainty way of labouring, comparatively, which has more to do with socializing and planning events than sweeping or dishwashing, and since a significant proportion of the population expects them to play these roles, handed down through the centuries, who I am to criticize them for doing so?

It's the democratic element you see which ironically uplifts the monarchy insofar as such traditions have just as much right to persevere as any other.

Their workers can still quit at any time should they find something lacking, or a better situation, although in many cases I imagine they strictly soldier on.

Due to the prestige they associate with their position, a bizarro rank and file reflection of aristocratic privilege, a phenomenon where one's proud to be of service to a duke or earl even if their quality of life's somewhat bland, for they imagine that others envy them, oddly enough, but then again, others actually do.

Covetously so.

I imagine serving the nobility must seem idyllic if you're serving the nouveau riche, if that's how you want to live your life (gaining status by association with a snotty clique), although I may be incorrect indeed, depending on how hip newfound wealth finds flex-time.

All I'm trying to say is that when you don't have many options you may settle for something snotty, who am I to judge?, and may even find it quite rewarding, depending on the character of your team.

The film does present a solid team equipped with full-time work by employers who don't hold them in contempt and do honestly listen to what they have to say.

Of course the idle rich don't have to sustain these networks, they could live much more modestly to be sure, but then thousands of people would be out of work, and the people who care about elite social activities would have to find other forms of media to entertain them.

So distressing, the items that trend on AppleNews.

As unimaginative as such pastimes may seem, a democratic conscience should try to tolerate them, assuming they don't imperialistically express themselves, or attempt to squash integral freedoms.

The world of Downtown Abbey is both resourceful and respectful.

Model worker/management relations.

Perhaps too prim and polished.

Remarkably cohesive bonds.

The Lion King

I wasn't going to see the new Lion King because I heard it closely followed the original's script, but I wasn't disappointed as it ceremoniously began, for the live action animation indeed compels and motivates.

It's no substitute for the real thing of course, and I prefer to watch nature documentaries, but that doesn't mean the visuals aren't stunning, or zoologically endearing, like a blizzard after a veggie burrito, a trip to the Planetarium, mango icing, or a macchiato with lots of whipped cream.

I can't stress how important it is to conserve Africa's remaining lions, elephants, rhinos, etc.

Their populations have decreased drastically in recent decades, and if concrete action isn't taken, they may disappear forever.

That's not an exaggeration, it's just basic math.

They have just as much of a right to exist as we do.

And don't really do anything to harm us.

It would be cool if politicians committed to shutting down Canada's ivory market during this federal election campaign, if it isn't distressingly frustrating that it hasn't been shut down already.

'Lil Simba (JD McCrary/Donald Glover).

Who's Canada's 'lil Simba?

Nurtured within the chillaxed Canadian and Québecois social sphere, one day emerging to challenge the dissolute Scar (Chiwetel Ejiofor)?

If you enjoyed the first Lion King film, I can't see why you wouldn't like this one, assuming you can get over how much money the film made without changing the storyline much, when there must be original narratives floating around out there that execs are unwilling to take a chance on, I don't really mind sequels as long as they're taken seriously, but an insane number of sequels and remakes have been released in 2019 thus far, as if pirated internet viewing's deeply cutting innovative bottom lines, and no one can afford to take cinematic risks, as if we're living in the age of bland cinematic prudence, born of misguided internet freedoms, which are transforming the world into Netflix, a remarkable minimalistic paradigm shift (it's cool to watch new films at home I suppose [I don't], but the result is that studios are now even less willing to embrace alternative ideas because their profits have been hit hard, theoretically).

Skyscraper!

Where art thou, Skyscraper!

If you accept that the new Lion King exists, however, regardless of its lack of différence, note, again, that it is a fun film to watch, abounding with commensurate degrees of age old wonder.

And imaginary animals can be placed in adorable situations that real life beasties instinctually avoid.

It's adorable.

And hard-edged, chock full of potent life lessons, much of the film's downright no-nonsense, although hakuna matata still resounds with bounty and ease.

Scar takes over again. Until 'lil Simba comes of age.

But wouldn't it be nice if successive governments respected what their predecessors had done, and didn't set about radically altering what they consider to be dysfunctional, unless you replace Scar, who is clearly dysfunctional.

It seems like all successive governments in Canada and the U.S are doing is reversing the decisions their predecessors made, regardless of the fact that significant portions of their countries/provinces/states value them.

There's no progress in such a situation.

And it must be a nightmare for career civil servants.

Politics is much more of a dog fight these days than it was in my youth, and the results are quite unsettling.

I doubt the NDP would change much of what the Liberals have done.

With the wily Jagmeet Singh.

Who's indubitably Simbiotic.

Toy Story 4

Toy Story 4 takes a less menacing look at life beyond suburbia, as Woody (Tom Hanks) and the gang make friends with a new toy (Tony Hale as Forky) before heading out on an ill-defined road trip.

The new toy was created by Bonnie (Madeleine McGraw) during kindergarten orientation, and even though he now breathes life, he still seeks wide-eyed independence, with neither code-bound duty nor congregational chore, and one night he escapes, rashly jumping from a speedy camper's window, leaving loyal Woody no choice but to follow, to bring Bonnie back her most beloved possession.

But after locating Forky and encouraging him to return, he notices signs of a lost love in a local shop.

Hopeful to see how she's doing, and overwhelmed with feelings of good luck, he carefreely and quickly enters, only to discover envious misfortune.

For a doll whose voice box has never worked lies covetously waiting within, a doll who's never known the thrill of companionship, nor the love of enraptured being.

Woody's voice box still functions, and it's indeed a miraculous match, altercations maladroitly ensuing, Forky laid-back and none the wiser.

But Toy Story 4 isn't as traditional as its predecessor, there's room for change and compromise.

Bo (Annie Potts) shows Woody that life can flourish in the wild unknown, if one's attuned to wit and invention.

Times are tough for Woody, even if he's turned a blind eye.

He's not as popular as he was once was, and is sometimes left behind in the closet during playtime.

He's still as determined as ever, nevertheless, and does everything he can to delight little Bonnie, honourably exemplifying unyielding fidelity, in the pursuit of irrefutable happiness.

But there's also Bo, with whom he intuitively prospers, with a different kind of love he's never explored, in realms that could nurture alternative thought, where his exceeding talent could find new meaning.

Plus he's been loved throughout his entire existence, he's known the comforts of well-defined responsibility.

And understands that Gabby Gabby (Christina Hendricks) never has, even though she's ever so adorable.

Toy Story 4 considers identity in flux perhaps as its original youthful audience comes of age.

The film's still innocent enough for the next generation of youngsters, but also introduces mature thought for ye olde old school devotees.

I suppose if they saw the first Toy Story when they were 5 they'd be 29 now, so no. 4 may have been released a bit too late.

But so many young adults are living at home for so much longer these days, many who perhaps have never considered moving out.

With rents soaring sky high in many places, I can see why they've chosen to stay.

It's alright living at home a lot of the time too, if your lifestyle isn't too disruptive.

There's no clear path, no precisely defined pattern, just extremely confidant justifications for whatever path you've chosen.

Just gotta choose one and give 'er.

'Til something else comes along down the way.

*Loved Toy Story 4's Canadiana.

**And Buzz Lightyear's (Tim Allen) commanding inner voice.

Shadow (Ying)

Two dynasties rule a torrential realm yet one has sunk into subservience.

Its nobles protest their King's diplomatic digressions and seek to battle once more those who rationed their defeat.

But their commander has suffered a fearsome blow, and though he can no longer lead, his disciple remains fierce and willing.

A surrogate, a double, a shadow, a brother, found lost in the streets one day years ago, was taken in to become his shelter, should battle prove wanton and reckless.

This shadow effectively deceives far and wide, until he is ready to formidably challenge.

Aided instinctively by a proud weary court, he prepares for the fated day, his patrons having expediently conjured defence through the feminine, as has never been utilized or anticipated before.

Lithe dissonance expounding alarm.

Discreet novel exposure.

Bewitching in convex complement.

Yimou Zhang's Shadow (Ying) presents compelling tragedy.

Modest settings and stately composure give way to shocking excess, as strategic plans denote tactile wonder, and outcomes tax spry febrile throes.

It's like a play, multiple characters nuanced and referenced, august consequences sheathing reward, stark confines generating precepts, latent desire tempting envy.

If you think it lacks distinction or pressure or complaint or pulsation early on, invoke patience as it masterfully proceeds, a narrative rich in subtle intrigue, intricately concealing age old passion.

Bursting forth with beautiful song.

Spiralling in wavelike arrays.

Like a flexed symphonic whirlwind, it classically encircles sworn objectives, alighting loyalty, quest, and betrayal, as it presumes dynastic resonance.

Assurance is by no means decreed and trust consumes arrogant remonstrance.

Impossibility is wildly taunted, depression adroitly commandeered.

As if it never did stop raining.

And there was no other thought to consider.

Outstanding film.

Echoes of Kurosawa.

Stockholm

A rather odd bank robbery, responded to with an equal degree of the nutso, the robber himself like a devotee of Bonanza, the cops like classical musicians playing jazz, huggably unreels in Robert Budreau's Stockholm, a bizarro affair romanticizing the awkward, as if in order to respectfully reflect the improvised nature of the heist, extemporaneous production scenarios were evocatively conceived, or as if everyone involved feigned jurisprudent expertise, while delicately crafting loose knotted clips at random.

The police and the robber both consider alternative outcomes, and each volatile exchange further augments their misunderstandings.

It's as if they're trying to play sports but the game they're playing doesn't exist, the boundaries separating theory and practise simultaneously establishing while deconstructing themselves, like they're anxiously attempting to generate code, stipulation, or principle, yet can't quite construct any durable foundation, like suddenly trying to take up astrophysics, or the attempts of zoo animals to imagine independence.

It's like both sides are revelling in tomfoolery at times, but since neither participant knows what they're doing, foolishness is perhaps not the best word, expedient lucidity potentially providing semantic clarity, the comedic applications of either evaluation playfully emergent in the rebellious bottom line.

The comedy is difficult to boisterously generate within, because the policepersons are uptight, and Lars Nystrom (Ethan Hawke) is very kind.

The police assume they have the upper hand and negotiate without taking him too seriously.

He tries to create genuine fear but he's so nice even his hostages adore him.

The laughs are much more subtle, much less bellicose than those you often find in American comedy, as if Stockholm reasonably transmits thoughtful European sensibilities.

When Nystrom resorts to unorthodox methods the results aren't funny at all though, a huge downer in the old botched-robbery-hostage-taking-wild-west-romantic-comedy.

But he is forgiven, and, in fact, rewarded, for his inspired blunder.

Excelling at orchestrating romance for a highly dysfunctional spell, while mismatched adventurous characters dubiously prance and spar, Stockholm's still somewhat too serious a lot of the contemplative time, which would have been less ironic if it had made a little bit more sense.

An absurd scenario no doubt.

In which the realism's too ridiculous.

Tough to pull off.

Glass

Mystery Men aside, I imagine superhero films would be less compelling (or less profitable) if they focused on the lives of people who don't defy scientific law, even if random acts of kindness or diligent commitments to stable routines also aptly reflect agile superheroics, in their own more modest less celebrated ways, inasmuch as many routines lack regular confrontations with mindblowing exceptions.

I remember briefly watching at work one day while a team of three people carried an awkwardly shaped new countertop up a narrow awkward flight of stairs, for instance, and an hour later I noticed they were still working.

In my foolish mind I thought, "why aren't they finished yet, it doesn't look that complicated," before reprimanding myself for assholism and listening in on their conversation.

They were patiently and rationally discussing how to move the heavy object up the stairs carefully to avoid injury, which of course made sense, and explained why they were taking so long.

It's rare when I move large heavy objects so when I do so I carelessly don't worry about injury.

But if you move them around for 40 hours a week for 10 to 40 years and you don't take your time to patiently think about what you're doing, you likely will sustain injury, and therefore it makes sense to proceed cautiously and think things through.

Always.

Nothing you learn in your youth really prepares you for middle-age and the routines you find yourself cultivating at times.

I'm lucky to have a lot of variability in my life and to work with cool people, as I have been for the last decade or so, but middle-age still isn't like school, you don't progressively pass from one grade to the next and have your whole life reimagined each year based upon pedagogic and biological transformations, different stages, it's more like a big 40 year block of time, an extended megastage that's full of change and diversity but at times is somewhat predictable.

But it's precisely the lack of exception that makes it exceptional once you figure that out, the ability to endure sure and steady predictability from one day to the next, to handle different variations while maintaining a reliable theme, and to do it for an incredibly long period of time.

Little things making a phenomenal difference.

Whether it's a film, a new type of hot sauce, a new dress, or ordering the same thing off the menu every time, it doesn't get old if you don't let it, if you let disaffection age you.

Everyone understands there's a big difference between carrying something up a flight of stairs and being a neurosurgeon, or a politician, but sometimes I think neurosurgeons and politicians forget how difficult it can be to carry awkward things up flights of stairs, for years, although I'm sure it's by no means endemic.

The end of Glass celebrates superheroics gone viral online, attempts to suppress them having been outmasterminded.

True, David Dunn (Bruce Willis) and Keven/Patricia/Hedwig/The Beast etc. (James McAvoy) do have otherworldly abilities, and it would have been cool if Dunn had turned out to be his/her father, but the ending's so like the genesis of Twitter and YouTube that I couldn't help thinking they were standing in for magical unrehearsed postmodern superheroics, randomly disseminated upon the worldwide net.

It's another superhero film that contemplates the nature of superheroics and therefore adds more philosophical finesse to the genre, with hints of The Secret History of 'Twin Peaks', Under the Silver Lake, and Iron Man peppered throughout, and nimbly unreels like a full-on indy.

I liked the characters and the plot and the ways in which Unbreakable has found a way to situate itself within the post-Iron Man maelstrom, and McAvoy's outstanding, but it was the ending and its Twitteresque reflections that I enjoyed the most, and seeing Bruce Willis and Samuel L. Jackson (Elijah Price) at it again I suppose.

So many things you never would have heard about thirty years ago pop up on Twitter and YouTube every day.

It's a fascinating worldwide change.

As accessible as your local library.

Stable, steady, unpredictable variation.

Is there a project out there that's codifying YouTube?

Who's writing that book?

Could you finish a page without becoming obsolete?

Like you need a multicultural team of librarians working full-time around the globe just to capture Tuesday, March 8th, 2016.

Categorically driven inherent impossibility.

Infinity conceptualized.

There's nothing quite like it.