Blood Simple

Ligament liturgy ecstatic entropy impassioned unleashed covert clandestine captions, fledgling fervour innocuous oater newfound necessities cradle crunch.

Resigned shamanatee hesitant harbinger grotesque gumption supine shutterbug, despotic disclosure tragic forbearance reluctant ransom accurséd accounts.

Vigorous fury toxic engagement outcomes unexpected incipient fugue, disgruntled affection fusillade photoshop disclaimed deceptions demonstrative nerve.

Serendipitous enterprise curmudgeon cashew expedient itinerary audacious embrasure, scurrilous sand-wedge lugubrious sigma gossamer getaway gallantine grief.

Accidental discovery mynock misfortune despondent discomfiture hyena hysterics, improvised onrush maladroit excavation environs entombed disconsolate guava.

Awkward ubiquity psychotic stern renegade reanimation potentate pulse, egregious centigrade uncharacteristic bellicose burmeasles inspired feeling.

Reticent explanation hardboiled anxiety encrypted confusion illiterate torque, bewildered bombastic diagnostic distress unwitting algorhythmic detrital spunk. 

Spontaneous chase forensic foreknowledge oblique discretion carcinogen clambake, ambivalent aloha nebulous necromancy beguiling glenigma otiose oblivion.

Gruesome unsettling ominous scenarios borderline barking mendacious maestros, frigid and frozen fugacious fumigation albeit squishy traumatic high tide.

To stay so dismally determined calabrese calculation pervasive ghouls, hemorrhaged matrimony unyielding formulae enervating exotic tollgate truncheon.

To go so wild and spirited jocose rejuvenation on the road, rekindled rebirth exuberant partner uncertain finances chillaxed extolled. 

Obsessive disabled bleak bland envy power-mad meticulous critical observation, lascivious lifestyle no curious family routine remonstrance dull disquietude. 

Darkly comic embalmed compulsion exhaled disillusion cadaverous consignments, concrete contusions objective misalignments worthwhile macabre mordant malaise.

Inchoate gambit excessively beloved calibrated careers acclaimed and distinguished, varicose variety perpetual motion delirious decades homegrown Americana.

*This is the Coen Brothers's first film.

**Noiresque. Worth checking out. 

Raising Arizona

At times, the constructive benefits of living a dull yet productive life, fail to impress the potentially high-rolling illicit transgressive provocative crowd.

But enduring grace ironically saves an awkward confused convenience store thief in Raising Arizona, as he falls in love with a beautiful cop who takes his picture every time he's brought in.

He eventually wins her hand and they soon swiftly realize they're indeed somewhat married, and therefore expected to responsibly nurture uptight consistent bourgeois contingencies.

Things take a grandiose maladroit turn when friends from the joint come a' humbly calling, however, having escaped and in need of a place to slyly hold up for the foreseeable future.

It's even more intuitively stern since H.I and Ed were unable to have children, yet recently noticed that a furniture salesperson's wife had just had quintuplets on down the road.

They then managed to acquire an active son through ill-gotten-improvised lacklustre means, yet in their attempts to forge a legitimate family were ill-prepared to accommodate felons.

With bounty hunters in search of the youngster and the destitute guests planning a lucrative heist, the conjugal duo just tries to raise junior and function as respectable husband and wife.

A tumultuous tale effervescently bound to inordinate cascading of diligent degrees, effectively unable to immersively ameliorate as chaotic circumstances diabolically dishevel. 

Comedic instincts wildly disseminating a lack of balance and cohesive structure, the cultural rules and abrasive regulations perhaps too stable for such ways of life.

Alas the embrace of dependable codes can seem inalienable when viewed from a distance, but if attempting to randomly realize them you may encounter highfalutin infrequencies. 

Consulting a laidback professional such as a marriage counsellor or family planner, may lead to less outrageous conduct should you have difficulties succeeding as one.

H.I and Ed don't really seem like readers but there are television shows and documentaries that can also help.

Note that they're both striving to make things work.

And likely doing a better job than ye olde Kermode. 

The Hudsucker Proxy

Difficult to say what leads to success in business, if you've never really read anything about it or worked in the industry, although sundry films and series suggest cut-throat dispositions are indeed paramount, is there something to be said for such conceit?, I have to admit, it's far beyond me.

In The Hudsucker Proxy the opposite rings true as a mild-mannered mailroom dreamer moves up, to lead a million dollar company no less, with only a peculiar idea to back him (Tim Robbins as Norville Barnes). 

The company was doing well at the affluent time of its founder's tragic parting, but due to a willful irregularity, comes up for sale at the start of the next year.

Its shares are to be made public thereby preventing the Board of Directors from cashing in, unless they can diabolically decrease their value and then snatch them up before anyone else does.

Thus they hire Mr. Norville with the malevolent hope that he begets ruin, he does have unorthodox methods but his initial idea proves rather lucrative.

The Hula-Hoop in fact captures the fascination of an adoring public, and leads to acrimonious accolades from the foiled and irate distraught conspirators.

As time passes and opinions fluctuate will he be able to stay afloat?

Tumultuous tides trepidatious tenacity.

Inherent preposterous production.

What to do if harnessing miracles through spontaneous agile eclectic blunder, through the art of tantamount translation elucidating chill commercial thought?

It seems clear in Norville's case since his idea is direct and practical, but I imagine things could be much more abstruse if you require televisual or filmic structure.

It does seem somewhat odd that so much wealth can be gargantuanly generated, from such a simple idea even if adage and aphorism extol them.

You see the argument played out every day in democratic political venues across the land, study and learning consistently duelling with worldly knowledge upon the stage.

So many people work within the world that their crafty leadership no doubt feels, as if they deserve a certain percentage of the inspired decision making financed by government.

Their intellectual counterparts at times find it odd having to share the coveted spotlight, as they diversify through complication inevitably leading to brilliant foresight.

But democracy guarantees their privilege just as it lauds equal upstanding opportunity, who's to say who should hold the reins?, I myself prefer books and learning. 

Books and learning with practical knowledge gregariously bulwarked through realistic expenditure.

Sounds kind of like one Joe Biden.

Who seems to genuinely care. 

The Ballad of Buster Scruggs

Ebullient rapscallion itinerantly drawn serenades the horizon with erudite simplicity.

Appearances deceive a would be thief as a sage brush sure thing demonstratively bites back.

Age old sombre reflections resignedly ponder lonesome frontiers, emotion declaratively withdrawn, investment genuinely striking.

Disingenuous prospects confront honest labour as fortunes are struck grasped thrills excavated.

Marriage tempts thoughtful homesteaders as imagination riffs down the line.

A forlorn stagecoach elastic in bitters trudges wearily on towards stoked paradigms.

Nimble eclectic horseplay.

Erratic collected brawn.

Snug fits, misperceptions, testaments, shift and sway, the wild west conceptually exceeded, yet realistic, solemn, grey.

Invincible pretensions fade into soulful longings as diverse embellishments slowly manifest fear.

The writing's exceptional at times and it's a Coen Brothers film so I wondered why The Ballad of Buster Scruggs skipped theatres, and am still glibly wondering why? why? why?

Scruggs does excel when it's wildly boasting or forlornly lamenting or just simply reckoning, but then the lights suddenly dim, unfortunately, after awhile, although 4 out of 6 ain't bad.

That could explain it.

Harry Melling (The Artist) puts in a great performance as a solo act that's as versatile as its narrative's thought provoking.

Tim Blake Nelson (Buster Scruggs) also impresses, with an active style that wildly contrasts Mr. Melling's.

The film slips up when it considers civility, character, domestic matters, as if Western decorum has yet to transcend Hobbes's leviathan.

Not much screentime given to First Nations either, and they're only depicted as a stereotyped nuisance.

Nevertheless, it's still disturbing that a Coen Brothers film wasn't released in theatres, Barton Fink, Buster Scruggs is not, but they're still one of the best creative teams Hollywood's ever taken on.

I've annoyed many over the years and lost contacts and spoiled friendships by pointing out how good the Coen Brothers are, when they confidently state, "Hollywood only makes crap."

The creativity on Netflix is theoretically ideal because I can't think of any deadlines its creators have nor any timelines it'd be best to follow.

Just post it when it's finished.

It's kind of cool when something new shows up.

If it doesn't, I'll watch something else.

Still, a lot of the material I've seen that's been created by and for Netflix lacks the networked touch.

Remember, you're trying to find ways to make me like your show and tune in week after week, even if that logic doesn't apply.

I'm not just going to binge watch anything, even if the idea's really cool and it's starring actors I love (that's happened several times).

There are too many alternatives available.

In way too many other formats.

The Itunes store is incredible for movie renting for instance.

And it's the exception when they don't have what I'm looking for.

Hail, Caesar!

Film production, the magnification of dreams and ambitions, pluralizing heroism and gallantry with clear and precise occasionally ambiguous envisioned dexterity, precipices and pageants promulgating objectivity and sentiment with equally concise provocations, the contemporary and the historical rivetingly aligned, mischievously extracting, the im/pertinence of our times.

A film set.

A star.

A gathering of observers. 

Identity in flux.

Hail, Caesar! converses with Trumbo, a comedic counterpoint to its tragic pen, wherein communists have infiltrated Hollywood and are engaged in criminal activities directly undertaken to support the Soviet Union, only a hardboiled behind-the-scenes gruff steady executive and his up-and-coming Western foil standing in their way, laughs consistently produced amidst the touching absurdity, which seriously suggests it's inherently ridiculous, without failing to shrewdly present itself as a matter of unconcerned dazzle, denoted connotations covertly overted, not the Coen Brothers best comic material but it passes, Burt Gurney (Channing Tatum) and his little dog, Baird Whitlock (George Clooney), defender of the dialectic.

It's a compelling tool, this, dialectic, oppositions and syntheses you know, but using it to predict the future with dispassionate inevitability is where it errs, the end of history functioning like a religious utopia (a 19th century form fused with secular content) which foolishly casts out history and religion, people are never going to stop remembering the past or believing in the fantastic, and attempts to laud a future which does so is a naive waste of critical resources.

Although, I suppose, in my mediocre understanding of the concept, in an egalitarian society things are, oddly enough, much more equal, and due to the equality of opportunity and resources people would be less willing to bear grudges, and less concerned with what happened hundreds of years ago, because they aren't labouring at all times for peanuts, make things more equal, more comfortable, and such grudges could decrease in severity because it's easier to let go of a grudge when you have free time and a disposable income, things to do, goods to acquire.

It's kind of like a generational thing though, if that theory is still taken seriously (it should be), new generations rebelliously critiquing whatever happens to be the norm, movements generated by boredom, generations growing up in a culture based on equality still seeking to define themselves by rallying against the system, even if it was that system that gave them the opportunity to rally against it, its opposite having no such recourse, taking it apart so their grandchildren can rebuild it.

I don't think you can eliminate the desire to change things and stand out through change no matter how perfect a system you create unless you can somehow materialize the affects of the adversarial without promoting stagnation and decay.

Sports do this well.

But the dialectic in terms of momentary observation, observances of historical mutations, brief narrative evaluations rather than definitive prognostications, is a constructive tool, fun to play with, there are plenty of oppositions out there to note, many of which haven't been thought up to strategically condition the future.

Maybe they should have been, maybe not, doesn't change my thoughts that Hail, Caesar! is funny and worth seeing, a lighthearted yet brash take on life, a minor film in the Coen Brothers's oeuvre. 

With Clancy Brown (Gracchus), Robert Picardo (Rabbi), Wayne Knight (Lurking Extra #1), Dolph Lundgren (Submarine Commander), Patrick Fischler (Communist Writer #2), and Christopher Lambert (Arne Seslum).

Inside Llewyn Davis

Inside Llewyn Davis you'll find a staggering conflicted troubadour torn apart by the loss of his musical partner, problematically fazed.

This guy's a bit of a jerk, depicted as an oddball within folk music culture, gifted and heartwarming while performing, troubling and disruptive while doing anything else.

It's like he's a jaded cynical holier-than-thou 90s caricature surrounded by congenial 1960s good spirits, frustrated by his lack of success, overconfident to the point of paralysis.

He always has to be in control.

It's as if the Coen Brothers are playing a joke with Llewyn Davis (Oscar Isaac), presenting a character reminiscent of Five Easy Pieces's Robert Eroica Dupea (Jack Nicholson), assuming their audience will be unconsciously sympathetic, while making him as unsympathetic as possible, hoping people will still refer to him as tragic.

He's given opportunities.

And unlike Dupea, his community has merits to which he can relate.

His loss perhaps prevents him from noticing these merits.

But his attitude suggests that he may have been directly responsible for his loss (which is likely augmenting his malaise).

Jerry Seinfeld's (Jerry Seinfeld) interactions with Kenny Bania (Steve Hytner) offer a constructive parallel, Kenny functioning as the 1960s good spirit living in the 90s, as if Inside Llewyn Davis primarily concerns itself with this comedic dialogue, with elements of The Master's Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix) intermixed.

I was hoping he would take off to the Northern wilderness near the end like Dupea in Five Easy Pieces.

Perhaps he did.

John Goodman (Roland Turner) delivers another exceptional performance.

True Grit

Revenge. Determination. The Law. Bold teenager Mattie Ross (Hailee Steinfeld) is determined to hire a lawperson in order to bring the man who murdered her father to justice, and she possesses the stubborn constitution and iron will necessary to do so. Refusing to allow the stereotypes regarding her age and gender thwart her, she convinces the grizzled alcoholic U.S. Marshal Reuben J. "Rooster" Cogburn (Jeff Bridges) to pursue, and accompanies him along the way. The bumbling Texas Ranger La Boeuf (Matt Damon) is also in search of their quarry and the ensuing relations between the three roughhouse traditional conceptions of law and order. Cogburn and La Boeuf are like a rugged cantankerous reflection of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson and their argumentative dialogue complicates matters before the Coen Brothers round up their complementary strengths and weaknesses (it's as if they've taken a "good" standard lawperson, separated him or her into two, provided both personalities with piss and vinegar, and then used [in this case] feminine strength to bring them together). Mattie saves them from themselves and maintains a firm influential grip, perhaps suggesting that as patriarchal conceptions of the good drink and qualify themselves to death, strong young women will revitalize and recast their semantics, maintaining a prominent place for men while creating one as equally influential for women, thereby manifesting true grit. The fact that her efforts are only substantialized through a stroke of somewhat random good fortune suggests that an egalitarian feminine and masculine distribution of power may be generated both legally and politically and treated as if it was evolutionary publicly, if and only if the actual composition of its resonance is dependent upon frustrated logic reinvigorated serendipitously, i.e., the introduction of and capitalization upon a paradigm which oddly corresponds to and uplifts its socialized framework, something formally similar to Lafontaine and Baldwin's use of restraint in the 1840s. A catalyst, a cyberstone, something from within. Good film.

A Serious Man

The Coen Brothers's A Serious Man examines the impact of a series of disruptive events upon the life of Larry Gopnik (Michael Stuhlbarg). Things are going well for Larry near the film's beginning insofar as his status-quo routine is firmly established and he is being considered for tenure at the educational institution where he works. Things could certainly be better: he has trouble establishing a dialogue with his children, his gun loving neighbour (Peter Breitmayer) doesn't recognize where his lawn ends and Larry's begins, and his down-on-his-luck brother (Uncle Arthur played by Richard Kind) lives with his family and can't seem to get his life together. But these minor problems are dealt with stoically albeit non-confrontationally by the introverted Larry who still remains confident in his work and cohesive in his appearances. Then, suddenly, his wife (Sarah Lennick) announces she's leaving him, a hopeless student (David Kang) places him in a ludicrously awkward position, his brother is arrested, the tenure committee begins to receive disparaging letters, he's forced to endure humiliating conversations with his wife and her new love interest (Fred Melamed), he gets in a car accident, discovers he owes Columbia Records a large sum of money, and so on and so on, while seeking help from confusing rabbis (Simon Helberg, George Wyner), making sure his son (Aaron Wolff) is ready for his Bat Mitzvah, living out of a matchbox hotel (with his brother), . . . ; in short, things amusingly spiral out of control as Larry tries to keep from discombobulating. It's definitely a Coen Brothers film inasmuch as they effectively introduce over a dozen dynamic characters and awkward situations who/which are tightly tied together in a coherent chaotic whole, a whole which situates old world legends in a post-modern predicament while simultaneously disseminating that very same predicament as an old world legend. Some of the characters could have used some more screen time (Uncle Arthur for instance), the ending could have had a little more closure (the Coen Brothers taking a roguish shot at their audience), the Dybbuk could have been reintroduced a bit more directly (although I suppose it's amorphous presence is meant to stimulate debate [a debate about which they are likely chuckling]), and Larry could have occasionally expressed himself more elaborately (although I suppose that's the point of the ending). But, nevertheless, A Serious Man playfully and mischievously creates a multi-dimensional functionally dysfunctional world, wherein audience and characters alike are treated to a cornucopia of possibilities and a plethora of problematic realities.

Burn After Reading

The Coen Brothers' Burn After Reading presents another tangled mess of lovesick lechers, vitriolic vixens, and hapless half-wits, with problems, which become worse, as time passes.

It's really well done.

The plot follows Osbourne Cox (John Malkovich) after his quasi-dismissal from the CIA (his boss being played by Sledgehammer lead David Rasche). His wife Katie (Tilda Swinton) is having an affair with fun-loving-sex-crazed Treasury Agent Harry Pfarrer (George Clooney), who has never fired his gun. A copy of Cox's memoirs accidentally ends up in the hands of Linda Litzke (Frances McDormand), who, with the help of fellow Hardbodies Gym employee Chad Feldheimer (Brad Pitt), decides to blackmail Cox based upon the information inside. In between, a lot of awkward, lonely, gentle, and narcissistic people end up in one embarrassing situation after another, often confused, occasionally, dead. Me found it to be preferable to No Country for Old Men and the Coen brothers' best since O Brother, Where Art Thou? However, as a pair, Burn After Reading and No Country for Old Men show the best of both sides of their oeuvre, one illustrating the conniving manners in which they amusingly nuance their tragedies, the other demonstrating the bitter, helpless mediocrity that dramatically distills their comedy.

I'm not sure if this was the intent in casting Brad Pitt and George Clooney, but note how within their opening scenes they each struggle to play a role that differs from those they've generically rendered in films such as the Ocean's 11 trilogy. However, as their screen-time increases, Clooney's character falls back into his traditional trajectory, but Pitt's becomes more and more endearing, tantalizingly reminiscent of his True Romance cameo. Note how Burn's plot structurally provides an outlandish portrait of Clooney's ego with unconscious retributive satisfaction (in regards to Pitt's multi-dimensional diversity), thereby covertly explaining why he received top billing, when it should have obviously gone to Malkovich.

A lot of people want to make a quick buck, but can't, and still try too anyways, all the time. A lot of people with authoritative positions don't really know what's going on, and, probably never will, yet, they have important decisions to make, many of which end up being wrong, yet are remembered with reverence. And if some people spent more time thinking about environmentally friendly ways of boosting the economy than they do about sex, we'd probably have a hell-of-a-lot less pollution, and really cheap clean-running fuel efficient cars (in which to have sex).

Think about it.