The Locksmith

The paramount temptation to freely secure fast endurable easy money, fuelling stock exotic daydreams universally across the land.

So many things to buy so many dreams so many relentless advertisements, the tantalizing independence driving meticulous freeform stacked endeavours.

We learned about advertising in school and through communal discussions way back when, and it seemed like its inherent trickery was generally acknowledged by the critical populace.

And that knowledge was leading to prudent decision making or less rash impulsive purchases, as illuminating logic cut through the uproar and exposed the dispossessing illusion.

It does seem puzzling nevertheless that ads seem to hold more sway now than ever, that even with so much education the fascinating allure can't be seen through.

Therefore, is it education's responsibility to provide a more compelling entertaining alternative, that offers a more appealing cultural collective thoroughly enhanced by constructive minds?

Entertainment has indeed been highly sought after throughout the multifarious ages, whether through discus or sculpture or car racing people have striven to find distraction.

But do they find distraction within the established narratives spearheading impossibility, or within well-reasoned objective impeti cleverly crafted through a sense of fair play?

Rationality can broker enlightenment should cynicism or sarcasm be put down, and a bonafide chill embrace of equality effectively resonate within a community.

But does rationality create more jobs and lead to a more productive impacting workforce, or is it indubitably ludicrous sweet nothings that efficiently devise economic stratagems? 

The uncertain need for ridiculous knick-knacks ephemerally available to be freely disposed of, seems rather insufficient considering, but are they more appealing to the austere alternative?

Perhaps an inquiry should be led to decide the question for ever after, does the cultivation of spontaneous shenanigans outweigh judicious practical life?

Don't countries wherein which life is much more practical and strictly governed, with less nonsense and much more reasonability, have less robust economies?

Is it possible to stop global heating while engaging in carefree initiatives?

Questions for a later hour.

Such a shame to be so serious.

Omohide poro poro (Only Yesterday)

Childhood memories of elementary school mischievously haunt Taeko's adult life, even if she's rather well adjusted to the industrious working world.

Notably daunting math tests which caused sincere social and familial distress, many others rather patronizing in their evaluations of her natural difficulties by the numbers.

Young romance confused and startled as an innocent lad accidentally declared his affections, and her classmates erupted with furor and the two really had no idea what to do.

Now she's in her late twenties and the marriage police are moving in, friends and family wondering why she's still single in a city full of millions of people.

Her characteristic independence habitually dismisses their domestic appeals, and she continues to earnestly authenticate by harmoniously proceeding with novel planning.

Which includes working trips to the country where she helps out on versatile farms, taking part in the daily labour while enjoying village life at night.

Soon an amorous lad shyly falls for her big city ways.

Others noting they get along well.

Taeko taking to the ways of the country. 

Omohide poro poro (Only Yesterday) presents alternatives to urban trajectories, as bucolic pride historically enraptures through inquisitive endeavour and cross-cultural daring.

Few films provide such an affectionate road map to countryside life through animate accords, complete with clear explanations regarding age old farming practices and the steady cultivation of the surrounding landscape.

Farming is often overlooked in the hyper-reactive accelerated narrative, but it always will be evidently necessary as long as we require tasty nourishing food.

You wonder why it isn't more respectfully regarded when multivariably compared with other professions, farming actually provides something durable when presented alongside abstract calculations. 

It's a shame how such abstractions at times drive a wedge between practical people, why is it preferable to have no relation to nature and pretend we can exist immaterially zoned?

A healthy environment ensures the multigenerational matriculation of posterity through fecund diversity, the more polluted the environment becomes the less likely crops will attentively flourish.

Perhaps it will never come to that although the dismissive outcome seems highly unlikely.

Working vacations can be fun in countryside regardless, may be worth checking out sometime. 

Gedo senki (Tales from Earthsea)

It's fun to throw around terms like immortality or magic at times, to take part in mythological shenanigans as reputedly envisaged in fermenting fashion.

But if reality needs be materialistically applied, I've never been interested in living forever, it seems like it would be incredibly dull in fact, and if you kept growing older, an encumbering plight. 

Vampires apparently don't age but who would want to live forever without the sun?, that would be an extremely unfortunate predicament certainly not to be genuinely envied.

I do believe in life after death perhaps sustained through the potent dreamworld, your dreams persisting perhaps like purgatory until you reach some form of nirvana. 

The belief in life after death does solve several concrete problems, and leaves you less burdened by temporal considerations throughout the rapid progression of time.

Make sure you're not too much of a prick and worries of damnation fade as well, the congenial afterlife even animal heaven I imagine sustained by decent people across the land.

I don't think repenting on your death bed or absolution late in life prevents the onset of hell for the truly wicked.

They're punished ruthlessly post-mortality.

Somewhat like Jacob Marley.

But I don't think the punishment is indefinite the chance to rise again indeed enlightening, I've always intuitively believed in reincarnation (as I've mentioned before) for which I was reprimanded at a young age.

Perhaps there is nothing else perhaps just the dirt and ashes follow, after a fertile robust life inquisitively lived through cultural sleuthing.

I find it much less depressing and much more constructive to think otherwise however, there really is no way to determine the answer, and a future filled with multiple lives and multiverses leads to more pleasant thoughts throughout mortal life.

I don't mean for such thoughts to influence government spending or tax-based initiatives, practical reality indeed paramount when trying to spend hard-earned vital incomes.

With competing ideologies in the democratic realm unfortunately the phrase practical realities becomes more abstract, but it's still less corrupt than a one-party system and at least you can still critique and disagree.

Imagine immortality during an ice age, who knows, perhaps that's how we survived!

Like many others, I believe death's a natural part of life.

Not that it means I want to stop living.

Cool film. 

Kokuriko-zaka kara (From Up on Poppy Hill)

The intense painful longing for an adored absent loved one, objectively expressed through ritualistic candour, every morning by the vibrant sea the message sent unseen unanswered, a family waiting observant on shore, yet still caught up in the world around them.

Umi's mother is off to study in the unfamiliar metropoli of North America, leaving her alone to manage their business, a task she accomplishes with inherent skill.

Meanwhile, Shun grows increasingly frustrated as it becomes apparent his clubhouse will be shut down, many of the other studious individuals in agreement, yet at a loss as to how to proceed.

As fate would have it, he's noticed Umi's signals and written a poem about them in his newsletter, which she notices one startling morning, before venturing forth to discover its author.

The two strike up a friendship although working relationship may be more apt, male and female soon gathered together to renovate the clubhouse for the first time in years.

But there may be even more to it after they learn they both have copies . . .

. . . of the same mysterious photo!

Taken of their fathers ages ago.

Toil and hard work and prudent planning industriously drives Kokuriko-zaka kara (From Up on Poppy Hill), which diligently enlivens through microcosm to innovatively excel and creatively encapsulate.

Japan having struggled in recent times through disastrous wars for which they can't be forgiven, the youth who grew up in the aftermath nevertheless, provided with the choice to make amends.

They have their traditions and customs which they resolutely honour through resilient sacrifice, taking care of their responsibilities with adamant gusto, while persevering through hearty resolve.

But a brilliant survivor of the ruthless war who recognizes that it's time to change the old ways, presents a newfound contemporary alternative which follows a reconciliatory postmodern path.

Imagine a world where people really were chill and there was no need for consistent higher-up apologies, where sustained evolving international endeavours led to food to eat and employment for billions.

Why are goodwill and camaraderie so counterintuitively maligned?

Exacting standards.

Commensurate will.

So many variables.  

Aces high.

Kaze no tani no Naushika (Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind)

My thoughts regarding the resilience of nature as pertaining to a post-pandemic environment, find rational contradiction within Ghibli's Kaze no tani no Naushika (Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind).

Within a toxic environment has pesitferously emerged after an apocalypse, most forests having become so polluted that they can no longer sustain human life.

Human life as we know it the forests and the giant insects who reside within them, have no tolerance for extant humanity, being fully aware that we destroyed the planet.

Thus, rather than habitual resiliency which sees the abundant return of cherished plants and animals, the forests still grow but have become infected with inherent anatomies hostile to humans.

Such a development corresponds to the theory that microplastics herald our doom, and will perhaps one day make food sources unsustainable as our population expands.

The literary irony within the minuscule components which once ruled the land with colossal magnitude, as fitting as the end of a Victorian novel as applied to the fossil fuel age.

You would think we would simply take steps to gradually transition away from fossil fuels, but that doesn't seem to be happening anywhere, this film was made in 1984.

You would think the consistent stewardship of a robust environment hospitable to our needs, would indeed be of the utmost importance considering the maintenance of posterity. 

It really isn't though, rather the chaotic clash of market based dogma rules the millennia, and should prudent planning screw up a sale fury will vociferously tantrum incarnate.

Such facts aren't lost on Kaze no tani no Naushika which sees the world still fighting suicidal wars, hellbent on annihilating our species 1,000 years later, ignoring science and ecologial rhythms. 

Nausicaä herself reveals the value of study and the just rewards of patient duty, as her innate wonder and curiosity find working solutions to age old problems.

Don't we have working solutions now to fossil fuel issues and environmental bedlam?

Isn't it best to employ them through a gradual transition?

Like sustainable economics.

Just a little less so. 

Omoide no Marnie (When Marnie was There)

Troubled times pejorative loneliness habitual cheeky maladjusted disproportion, leads to isolated age old initiatives far away from any urban centre.

The village disseminates flavour characteristically concocting historical narratives, multilaterally nuanced through subjective barter, contradiction generationally resounding.

The family with whom she stays offer peaceful counsel and generous goodwill, a robust hearty unassuming caricature oft employed to generate cohesion.

But she still has trouble socializing as many do at different times, her critical mistrust and acerbic evaluations leading to unamused accusations of severity.

Fortunately, patience abounds, and people are forgiving, sympathetic, and understanding, not to mention at times aloof which gives her ample time to wander.

While exploring far afield in search of nothing in particular in turn, she accidentally encounters a curious youth hoping to make friends with stories to tell.

The two strike up a mutually accommodating freewheelin' compassionate empathetic union, which leads to what's oft referred to as friendship as tides ebb and munificently flow.

But just who is this mysterious girl who disappears as quickly as she energetically arrives?

Is there a syndicating secret synergizing soulful sentiment?

In time honoured traditional supernatural soroarity?

If you happen to have an independent daughter prone to legend and zealous storytelling, who at times confuses the other children and has difficulties understanding why?, Omoide no Marnie (When Marnie was There) may prove materially providential in regards to constructive sociocultural life, a film like none other concerning bonds forged between like-hearted spirits adventurously aligned one fateful summer.

Difficult to fight off the haunting doubts inconsiderately disrupting calm and tranquil trajectories, while consistently engaged with inhospitable alliances generally unconcerned with practical well-being.

It's odd how frequently you hear collegial messages expressing warmth and kindness, and how sporadically they apply while directly engaged with unfavourable distress.

The love of family hopefully can challenge the cynical uptight grim brinkspersonship.

Along with friends books music and film.

Neverending possibilities at the local library.

📚♮📽😎

Neko no ongaeshi (The Cat Returns)

Simple acts of genuine kindness at times cultivate appreciation and respect, the unsuspecting recipients flush with reciprocity should time's passage munificently flow.

Thus, in Neko no ongaeshi (The Cat Returns), the Kingdom of Cats regards Haru with admiration, for having generously gone out of her way while altruistically assuming death-defying risks.

She's rather mild-mannered yet inquisitive and enjoys sleeping in with no time for breakfast, teachers critical of her habitual tardiness yet still sympathetic to the studious cause.

Having naturally developed an intuitive love for animals she notices one legendary day, that a cat may be run over by a fearsome passing truck, which encourages genuine distress.

She quickly scoots into traffic and boldly saves the unobservant feline, who, as fate would have ceremoniously have it, happens to be the Prince of Cats.

Cat kind responds in turn with abundant gifts freely delivered, and even if Haru doesn't know what to do with the mice, she's still taken aback from all the attention.

But soon she's taken away to the exotic otherworldly mythological chillaxed cat kingdom.

Where she's betrothed to the very same Prince.

As she starts to transform into a cat!

Imagine a less self-obsessed world where sincere kindness and warmth played a role, and people looked out for one another like the Québecois while structuring their cultural and communal relations.

I don't hear it mentioned often anymore but the Pay it Forward movement was a very cool thing, I don't know what it transformed into but hopefully the thought behind it's the same. 

The movement as I recall sought to reward acts of kindness, self-sacrificingly shared between conscious individuals, conscientiously aware of the tender exchange.

If someone was kind enough to do someone a favour or help someone out without having been called upon, then the person who received the aid would then help someone else in the near future, or Pay it Forward.

Marrying the King of Cat's son and transforming into a cat may have taken things too far, but had there been a courtship ritual involved, perhaps the results would have been somewhat different.

An appealing idea nonetheless which effortlessly radiates cohesive collegiality. 

It exists in so many forms.

Constructively mutating across the land.  

Tenkû no shiro Rapyuta (Castle in the Sky)

A largely unknown mythical heritage gracefully envelopes young aloof Sheeta, who would rather just be left alone than frenetically chased by an irate military.

Pazu has found work and community when he suddenly finds her one fortuitous day, and helps her feverishly escape when her former captors defiantly threaten.

Pirates also emerge in search of legendary boundless treasure, to which they believe Sheeta holds the key unlocking mad abundant riches.

They search for an ancient legend solemnly floating in the sky, where once a race of international influencers secretly advanced global sociocultural reckoning.

They also hypothetically accumulated mass resourceful mineral commodities, how to infiltrate and escape with such embroidered booty remaining a compelling infinite challenge.

The military naturally thinks the fortress could be used as an invincible weapon, and seeks to somehow control it with no prior knowledge of the structure whatsoever. 

A descendent of the race who once dwelt there seeks the same thing but possesses access codes, and could theoretically wield its power should he acquire Sheeta's magic talisman.

She's much more modern however and adamantly agrees with her mystical forebears.

Isn't it more exciting to live on the surface?

Away from lofty sequestered disparities.

I imagine it's fun to live everywhere perhaps even under the ocean in a secret sea fortress, which could furtively move undetected alongside pods of whales and ebullient dolphins (wrote this before I saw Ponyo). 

The tale still presents a classic narrative style congenially bent on less stratified collectives, wherein which mutual prosperity guides communal initiatives with fluent understanding.

I'm surprised a live action version of this story has yet to be made, it's the best fantasy film I've seen in years and has so many thrilling adventurous elements. 

The magical ties to ancient ways still potentially producing postmodern peculiarities. 

Is this just something people have always assumed?

Still fun to have (harmless) origin myths at times. 

Gake no ue no Ponyo (Ponyo)

An eccentric caretaker vigilantly monitors and looks after oceanic depths, consistently attempting to facilitate harmony beneath the temperamental seas.

He's rather tightly attuned to rhythmic supernatural submersion, and even cares for aquatic wonders too young to freely roam. 

But his most spirited daughter suddenly escapes one propitious morn, and eventually finds herself on land in the adoring company of a human.

The child is on his way to school when he accidentally cuts himself, his wound soon licked by the curious goldfish and instantly healed through nascent magic.

She's named "Ponyo" by little Sôsuke who becomes deeply enamoured with his friend, but her father remains distraught and soon reacquires her through immortal counsel. 

We learn that he is collecting unique transformative elixirs, which he hopes to use to change the world one epoch transfigurative day. 

But little Ponyo makes an escape during which she chaotically disrupts his plans.

The ocean erupting in imaginative fury.

Ponyo finding Sôsuke once more. 

Imagine the ocean 10,000 years ago, abounding with the practically uninterrupted fecundity of thousands upon thousands of transformative millennia!

Whales everywhere to be seen coral reefs extending far past fathomable limits, manatees and dugongs flourishing unabashed, crab and lobster expertly radiating. 

No wonder legendary tales consistently emerged with divine hyperbole, as a lack of knowledge inspired courageous deeds and habitual curiosity envisaged remonstration.

Ghibli suggests that even with our technology and the ways we've adapted to oceanic resilience, we've lost something by moving beyond legend into a much more practical repartee.

Too much of an emphasis on fact can tether daring adventurous spirits, to wayward predictable trajectories lacking variability and versatile imagination (we clearly still need to clean the oceans up). 

Not that a practical focus isn't particularly requisite in traditional commerce.

It's just at times it doesn't make recreational sense.

And for thousands of years there was nothing to do.

*Figures not precise estimates.

**That's the first time I've ballparked civilization's history.

Heisei tanuki gassen ponpoko (Pom Poko)

Further information regarding the ways of raccoon kind is generously provided in Ghibli's Heisei tanuki gassen ponpoko (Pom Poko), which examines the complex nature of intricate underscored raccoon relations.

Sometimes I achieve success when attempting to photograph laidback turtles, for at times they remain somewhat docile and let you shutterbug away.

But at others testosterone abounds and there's no diplomatic impetus, harmonizing interspecial congeniality, them turtles right freakin' pissed!

Having seen such behaviour in different animals I was led to theorize that animal kind, including robust philosophizing humans, has reps no species quite knows how to deal with.

For instance, in Heisei tanuki gassen ponpoko one bellicose raccoon takes on risks which may lead to a cull, his leadership rivals employing other means to stop the development within their homeland.

Said rivals take a more artful approach and utilize superstition as opposed to violence, with remarkably mythological results eventually dismissed as carefree play.

I didn't know that raccoons were renowned indeed vigorous legendary transformers, and if threatened could materially shapeshift regardless of weight equivalencies. 

In an age when the old ways have been forgotten many repudiate appeals to folklore, which references age old artists who once thoroughly concentrated on raccoon kind.

They discovered their transformative initiatives and swiftly celebrated them in poem and song, but fad and trend inevitably obscured their realistic spiritual reckonings.

The people who adhere to the past and even actively witness it at large at times, are subsequently and summarily lampooned for having overlooked contemporary biases.

The raccoons benefit from such developments but their belovéd home is still threatened by urbanization, grand mutating masters arriving from far off islands in a last ditch effort to preserve the wilderness.

It's plain as day that other peeps observe raccoons wide-eyed with wonder, as they go about their intuitive days rambunctiously securing food and shelter.

To those in the know there's indubitably indeed really nothing else quite like them, they remind me of people who want to focus but at the end of the day remain habitually distracted.

Perhaps they never will become domesticated like trusty dogs and impetuous cats.

But they're still close by monitoring the scene.

Sometimes envious, at others highly critical. 🦝

Transformers: Rise of the Beasts

Struggling to get by, an ex-soldier's hardships rapidly increase (Anthony Ramos as Mr. Diaz), his younger brother in need of medical attention (Dean Scott Vazquez as Kris Diaz), his own application for work denied.

He's accused of being unable to work productively upon a team, and even though he consistently excelled, he can't move past one stingy hiccup.

Financial pressures and tormenting temptation lead to inaugural vehicle theft, but within the unsuspecting parking garage, lies a wild unsubstantiated mystery.

He's accidentally broken into a Transformer at a rather formidable time, for an ancient Transwarp Key has just been discovered, and Optimus Prime (Peter Cullen) is recalling the troops.

Unfortunately, the key has been sought for thousands of years by the minions of the planet devouring Unicron (Colman Domingo), and they too reside on Earth, and hope to acquire the interstellar device.

The Transwarp Key would give Unicron the ability to travel anywhere in space without moving, without spiritual gifts or coveted spice, then consume unsuspecting planets.

Noah and the knowledgeable Elena (Dominique Fishback) have no wish to see their planet destroyed, and agree to help the aggrieved Autobots who see the Transwarp as their ticket home. 

But only half of the key has been discovered, the other half hidden in the jungles of Peru.

In which awaits another ancient manifestation. 

Of unheralded honourable Cybertronic beasts.

Ancient legend and contemporary endeavours boldly reveal our kinship with animals, the wild symbiotic sleuthing that provocatively impressed for thousands of years.

With our technological prowess and seemingly limitless expansion, have we not forgotten the lessons they taught us, as we mythologically depended upon survival?

If a God indeed created the planet would he or she not indeed also love its animals, and see such a grand impregnable imbalance as a misguided perversion of biodiversity?

Would he or she not then send calamitous storms and materialize hostile inclement climates, to cut our enormous numbers down and ensure less reliance on imbalanced slaughter?

As we consume without rationalized reckoning our planet erupts with meteorological tension!

Is it a striking divine criticism? 

Of unsustainable global disparity?

Biosphere

It does seem like the overarching narrative universally composed for apocalyptic consumption, is that our widespread dependence on fossil fuels will eventually lead to disastrous ends.

Fossil fuels being the ancient remnants of once ebullient and flourishing life, it's like that fluid life is integral to the planet's vitality, and it's limitless use devastating to it.

It's limitless use has led to exotic comforts and prolonged longevity only conceivable to ingenious cavepeople, but the resultant destructive weather patterns ominously suggest our efforts have backfired.

Further, the desire to consume by an affluent enormous ravenous population, has led to the exhaustion of global forests, and as carnal consumption exacerbates global heating, it's as if science has proven our practical limitations.

As if God created a biodiverse planet with manifold imperceptible checks and balances, which science slowly unravels, proceeding in error from time to time.

One such balance was the number of lifeforms the environment could reasonably sustain, and if one lifeform consumed the others to preposterous limits, other ways would be found to manifest jeopardy.

In addition, the versatile life blood (oil) was voraciously used up with no regards to moderation, the Earth responding with calamitous reckoning designed to promote inhabitability. 

In Biosphere, we find two survivors living on a planet thoroughly polluted, yet to bounce back from meteorological armageddon, living together in a secluded dome.

It's an odd balance of hyper-intensity and raw comedic lackadaisical mayhem, an enticing balance struck between zealots and the easy-going precariously situated within perdition.

Perhaps it could come to that who's to precisely predict such outcomes, the Earth is quite fertile however, and sometimes finds ways to recover rather quickly.

Take animal life in local environs, during the pandemic the economy wasn't shut down for long, but since then, knock on wood, I've seen unprecedented numbers of animals curiously engaging with their surrounding environments. 

There could be other reasons to explain the abundance of wildlife and perhaps it is cyclical as others suggest (I root for The Farmers Almanac) , but if so I've waited 25 years for this point in the cycle, it clearly doesn't come along very often.

Biosphere is an incredible film vibrantly brought to life by Sterling K. Brown (Ray) and Mark Duplass (Billy), who pull it off with authentic composure within foreboding chaotic inhospitable confines.

If you're a bit squeamish about gender relations the film may not be for you.

But if you look past them and embrace alternative storytelling, you may find a compelling narrative.

*Cool to hear so many old school references. 

The Smiling Lieutenant

A bored yet daring idle officer (Maurice Chevalier as Lt. Niki) is begrudgingly convinced to assist a friend, who's fallen for a violinist (Claudette Colbert as Franzi) who swiftly plays at a nearby nightclub.

He heeds the fraternal call but during the performance finds himself smitten, his sudden infatuation generously rewarded with a spur of the moment late evening call.

It doesn't pass in jest something long-lasting seems to materialize, but as his exuberant feelings manifest, a sensitive Princess (Miriam Hopkins) happens to notice him.

She thinks he's smiling at her and indeed ridiculing her august manner, her father the King (George Barbier) soon bringing him forth so that he can clearly explain his strange facial expressions.

The King's country isn't a large one yet he still seeks routine pomp and circumstance, and is somewhat annoyed when his Austrian relatives don't provide an elaborate reception.

He's rather habitually ill-tempered but easily placated as well, thus while furious with the confused lieutenant, he doesn't outrageously break down.

Unfortunately for Niki, who has no interest in moving to Flausenthurm, he's soon betrothed to the aggrieved Princess, and festively married shortly thereafter.

But he longs for his highly strung belle who genuinely reciprocates with amorous duty.

The Princess lacking worldly orchestrations. 

Trusted to find versatile improvised harmonies.

It's an awkwardly scandalous vision playfully subverting regal pretensions, wherein which cosmopolitan mischief overwhelms age old ostentation. 

A role likely coveted by many disingenuously finds itself bitterly upheld, the bewildered disconsolate provincials at a lugubrious loss to restore wholesome decorum. 

With their honest and sincere trust I found myself somewhat taken by these royals, having fallen into the romantic trap, accidentally set through hardboiled declamation.

I don't really follow the British Royal Family, I have to admit I've never been that interested, not that I didn't respect the age old Queen who seemed to genuinely care about her subjects.

But considering what Harry's given up and the risks he's taken to defend Duchess Markle, there's no doubt in my mind she's a bonafide Princess, even if she's not playing the role.

An American Princess I suppose imaginatively fusing the grand juxtaposition.

I don't pay much attention to them either.

But I do admire their courage. 

Sweetie

Another imaginative exploration of creative random unhinged expenditure, wherein which therapeutic regimens lack generalized familial accord.

Thus two sisters unaccustomed to objectivity attempt to congenially cohabitate, with respective partners and alternate routines disputatiously abounding with cacophonous resonance. 

It's a cool look at regenerative eccentricity vividly applying itself to adulthood, there's no nightly newspaper anywhere to be found nor 9-5 signifiers reupholstered on television.

The one sister clandestinely gets what she wants and instinctively believes in reflexive fortune telling (Karen Colston as Kay), her adoring husband does his best to entertain and admits at times to incredulous longing (Tom Lycos as Louis [he's like the Australian Fred Ward]).

The other habitually chillaxes with neither plan nor propitious pattern, yet consistently amuses with innocent endeavour as she vigorously experiments with tactile temperaments (Geneviève Lemon as "Sweetie").

Her father is sincerely adoring and doesn't understand Joy's sincere criticism (Jon Darling as Gordon), a classic compassionate and understanding citizen perhaps a product of the Australian New Wave.

Yet even if I contend that said New Wave humanistically diversified the land down under, with a versatile continental spirit effervescently blooming with cascading retention, there's still somewhat of a stiff upper lip that prevents ye olde Sweetie from cohesively acculturating. 

Likely uninterested in running the gauntlet as a newfound immigrant where her unorthodox spirit may have met with less vitriol, while unsuccessfully living a non-traditional life (within reason), she succumbs to the pressures of bitter castigation and loses sociocultural mobility.

I suppose I don't know if I'm correct or if it's just a byproduct of cultural osmosis, but living beyond Anglo-American borders seemed to generate peace and tranquility.

After running the gauntlet I found people weren't that concerned with commercial life emphatically immured, there were still intensities but applied to different things, I certainly never would have cooked dinner for anyone.

As long as I kept things chill things proactively progressed and life was moderately rewarding.

Seemed like the way things were progressing in the '90s. 

Which I would have understood through alternative perspectives had I grown up there. 

Mansfield Park

I imagine Mansfield Park was written when the 19th century's abolitionist movement was rapidly advancing, and the cruel and ruthless practice of slavery was soon to fade into oblivion.

But it hadn't yet as this narrative took shape so some of its characters seem rather outdated, as they lavishly live off the profits of enslavement in luxurious temper and ornate fashion.

Even if the story and its situations seem somewhat ghastly from current perspectives, it's strange to see characters genuinely presented outrageously profiting from the slave trade, I imagine it was daring and even groundbreaking at the revolutionary time, as it ethically shocked the established practice, and brought fresh perspectives to politically bear.

Thus, with the abolitionist movement passionately sermonizing in the background, Jane Austen theorizes Victorian realism, and creates a hypothetical yet possible set of circumstances, wherein which Society struggles with change.

The father, one Thomas Bertram (Harold Pinter), isn't squeamish about his distant holdings, and indeed brutishly profits from their labours, with no qualms or concerns regarding worker well-being.

His oldest son of the same name (James Purefoy) even captures his wickedness in a series of vivid disturbing drawings, which lead to his grand disillusionment, and general disregard for family life.

His younger brother Edmund (Johnny Lee Miller) has never visited their land or enterprises oversees, and has matured in the finest ethical tradition, even if he can't settle upon an occupation.

He grows up with one Fanny Price (France O'Connor) and the two fall in love through books and imagination, but they're both rather unacquainted with their own interests, and eventually find themselves about to marry others.

Even though they live with everything at their fingertips, and want for nothing material throughout their days, Tom and Edmund still detest their father's practices and express their criticisms with virtuous outrage.

It's unsettling to see people living so ostentatiously considering, but within the novel's historical context, perhaps it helped encourage the end of slavery.

Thomas has switched his interests to tobacco in the end and seems to have abandoned profiting from extremist tension, the counsel of a younger generation definitively having influenced his ridged composure.

I was surprised to see a Jane Austen narrative so sophisticatedly concerned with social justice, I had always presumed most of her books concerned marriage, and had no idea they examined broader issues.

Marriage is also of the utmost concern within the farsighted Mansfield Park, but it's regarded as another form of human entrapment, as Edmund and Fanny seek to fall in love.

The story's quite robust however and even though borderline romantic, still undercuts its amorous zeal with cold calculated depictions of poverty.

Still should people like Edmund and Fanny find each other love may flourish boundless and eternal.

I'm not sure how many liberties the filmmakers took with the plot.

But I'd very much like to read Mansfield Park. 

Lean on Me

I must admit to knowing little about the daily operations of American schools, I've seen various films and read books presenting snapshots, but I remain largely unfamiliar with concrete details.

Thus when focused on a school like Eastside High as depicted in John G. Avildsen's Lean On Me, at first I'm tempted to trust to exaggeration through interests in presenting irate shock.

But perhaps my lack of knowledge is tending to obscure manifest realism, and there are indeed schools comparable to this one down South, even if they're tough for Canadians to envision, I could never imagine things getting that out of hand.

The school's discipline has deteriorated so profoundly that extreme measures are suddenly called for, as a new principal is effectively hired with the hopes of increasing its state average (Morgan Freeman as Principal Joe Clark).

If its state average does not improve the state itself will take objective control, and personal flair and individual reckoning may fade into bureaucratic oblivion. 

Naturally their personal flair has lacked efficient recourse to strength in recent decades, and manifold undesirable elements have arisen to challenge rational rule.

It can be heartbreakingly tragic when genuinely concerned individuals are rashly ignored, and a lack of upheld respect for authority leads to wild insecure degeneration.

Mr. Clark's methods aren't widely appreciated and he's honestly difficult to deal with, as he takes absolute control and refuses to listen to anyone else's opinion.

He fights the unruly head on and makes great strides in encouraging learning, unconcerned with image or friendship or reputation he authoritatively expresses himself.

Within the extremist example the case is made for sharp edged discipline, if things degrade to such a level a hug and a bandaid may not solve things.

The question is what happens the next year after the situation has evolved, and newfound pride in educational advancement establishes roots within the school?

Then does the headstrong leader gracefully adapt to the less volatile circumstances, and once again encourage democracy amongst students and staff alike?

If so, the unfortunate necessary embrace of hard-hearted methods finds justification, if such a situation existed (massive drug dealing etc., not something as harmless as gender identity), and couldn't be remedied otherwise.

If the leader doesn't relax power or refuses to acknowledge his fellow staff, then disconsolate dismal camaraderie may lead to the loss of highly valued personnel. 

The next school year isn't the focus so the overarching jury provides no verdict.

However the school resists being taken over.

And becomes a safe place to learn again. 

The Man in the Iron Mask

A vile king sits on the throne of France who cares not for his people's well-being, throwing lavish parties while they struggle and starve even feeding them rotten food refused by the army.

His knowledgable aids freely advise him to modestly listen to their desperate pleas, but in classic despotic fashion he hears nothing and does little more.

As fate would have it, much more liberally so, he has a twin brother locked-down in prison, his face hidden behind an iron mask, his identity shattered his will forlorn.

When it becomes clear that the King won't budge even after wise counsel loyally implores him, the Three Musketeers bust the duplicate out and begin to train him in royal affairs.

But will the switch go smoothly not the easiest thing to hoodwink aristocrats, getting to the King even more treacherous even if he unsuspectingly trusts them?

They almost make it, it almost works but pesky D'Artagnan (Gabriel Byrne) foils the plot.

Having a scandalous secret of his own.

To zealously lay threadbear.

The Man in the Iron Mask makes starkly plain the inherent dangers in relying on monarchy, even if the second Louis the 14th (Leonardo DiCaprio) is just and considerate, it doesn't mean his successor wasn't wicked and cruel.

Democracy levels the playing field thereby eliminating despotic traits, at times even revelling in ebullient generosity (many thanks to Trudeau's Liberals), is it not preferable to hinder corrupt autocrats?

I suppose the opportunity to play a musketeer and frequent lavish palaces etc., is far too tempting to flippantly ignore, but you wonder how so many first rate actors found their way into this brash debacle (remembering Swann in Love). 

It certainly has popular appeal and likely did well at the box office, but even the sword-fights aren't that entertaining, ah well, what do you when they offer millions?

You have to be much more clever in a democracy which is why they often aren't quite so brutish, as the knavish premier of ye olde New Brunswick has swiftly discovered in recent weeks.

Perhaps the Conservative Party of New Brunswick's bitter criticism of their autocratic leader, will serve as an example for the rest of the county should other provinces get out of hand.

So many variables to abruptly consider should you seek political leadership.

Why not study William Lyon Mackenzie King?

He certainly kept at it for awhile.

The Accidental Tourist

How can the sure and steady traditional orthodox commercial life, be indefinitely extended everywhere, as you travel across the globe?

Would it be prudent to ubiquitously apply local standards irreducibly, regarding low key American cuisine, in Paris, London or Amsterdam?

That's precisely what Macon Leary (William Hurt) sets out to do as he travels the globe, writing helpful guide books for queasy tourists who'd rather not try international food.

He arrives in a select location and seeks out uniform Americana, and transmits the wholesome data back to his audience in waiting.

He's somewhat reserved and shy and never really has much to say, his comfortable life rarely ever changing from ye olde cradle to uptight grave.

But his son meant everything in the world to him and after he passed definitive woe emerged, his wife (Kathleen Turner as Sarah Leary) unable to endure the silence, their once practical marriage ending. 

At a new neighbourhood dog shelter a talkative maiden asserts herself thereafter (Geena Davis as Muriel Pritchett).

Presenting newfound romantic possibility.

And sundry improvised alternatives. 

I wonder what the stats say about travelling abroad, do most tourists want to try French food from France or would they stick to homegrown favourites across the pond?

My main reason for wanting to travel is to try local food from other countries, to just feast in Mexico for a week or indeed in France, Japan, or China.

Leary's books are mainly for business peeps who would rather not be travelling to begin with, so perhaps several of them wouldn't be definitively experimental, but I still wonder what the stats would be would they really still go to McDonald's while visiting Berlin?, certainly mind-blowing that people have such options, even if they seem somewhat monotonous.

People are defensive about their tastes and don't respond well to critical prodding, a lot of the inquisitive time, I gave it up long ago.

In my youth I didn't like to try new things but then found myself working in restaurants, and through habitual freeform snacking found I loved so many different things.

Unfortunately, people are often quite fussy about how they eat and want to prove they've precisely adapted to local custom, and attach corresponding snotty rules to dinner which generally makes things rather awkward.

Imagine turning something as cool as going out to eat into a stilted textbook pretentious reckoning.

I had a friend kind of like Ms. Pritchett long ago.

Those were enticing experiments. 

The Rainmaker

Struggling to find anything amidst multitudinous mechanized mayhem, a would-be lawyer strives for steady employment, having already diligently found two potential cases to call his own, he needs a flexible support network, a trusted home away from home (Matt Damon as Rudy Baylor). 

He doesn't have an apartment either but in conversation with a client, secures room and board in her backyard a rather nice place off the beaten track.

He fortunately finds someone to work for but soon a lawsuit comes a' callin', and he's forced to abandon the practise and create a new one of his own.

A resilient legal aid resourcefully assists his fledgling endeavours (Danny DeVito as Deck Shifflet), the two forging a dynamic team harnessing practical and constructive knowledge.

Medical insurance fraud indeed becomes their driving ethical focus, while an extremely distressing spousal abuse case takes up most of Baylor's free time.

They're up against a corporate team who offers them a settlement at the outset, but daring Baylor digs in deep and decides to challenge them in court.

Meanwhile, he's visiting Ms. Riker (Claire Danes) to offer counsel when her husband returns. 

Literally in the fight of his life.

He responds with reciprocal reckoning. 

The direct just how things go realistic hands-on overt narrative, leaving nothing to chance or whimsy everything presented as plain as day.

The latent dream overwhelming at times to simply tell it like it is, with lucid manifest striking composure bravely detailing complex dissonance.

I'd argue you'd have more success with this style or perhaps find a much larger audience, incumbent mystery and bewildering bantha not as appealing from time to time.

With relativity applied however there are manifold layers of concrete communication, one startling stark steady statement taking on several alternative significations.

Thus Dickens or Proust may seem out of touch if you focus intently on John Grisham (which I did in high school [even visiting Oxford, Mississippi {dad wanted to see Faulkner's homestead which was in the area}]), but if you train and practise and up your game you'll learn to harmonize the three.

The Rainmaker presents potential realities with appealing incandescent virtue. 

I loved reading John Grisham in my youth.

Along with ye olde Anne Rice.  

*Also love reading Faulkner.

**Co-starring Mickey Rourke (Bruiser Stone), Danny Glover (Judge Tyrone Kipler), Jon Voight (Leo F. Drummond), Mary Kay Place (Dot Black), Dean Stockwell (Judge Hale), Virginia Madsen (Jackie Lemancyzk), and Roy Scheider (Wilfred). 

Bagdad Café

A marriage suddenly breaks up while the couple travels through the Mojave Desert, the wife taking a suitcase and venturing forth to the closest accommodating hotel (Marianne Sägebrecht as Jasmin Münchgstettner). 

The hotel's seen better days and lacks commercial intuition, a delirious rut having settled in which drives away most potential customers.

But Jasmin sees lucrative possibility virtually isolated in the Mojave, and whereas the owners (CCH Pounder as Brenda) have abandoned ship, she strives to keep the craft afloat.

Fortunately, her versatile industry and its accompanying foresight and vision, aren't lost on the cafe's staff, and soon metamorphoses materialize to bring paying clients back again. 

Further, sloth and anger slowly fade into bitter oblivion, gradually replaced by ingenuity not to mention bold showpersonship.

Ms. Münchgstettner isn't a demanding taskmaster sternly managing the forlorn crew, she rather leads by efficient example to avoid unproductive arguments with her co-workers.

Her example proves effective and her lack of ego inspires change.

But she doesn't have the necessary documents. 

To hold off deportation. 

Having spent some time North of 60 I have a latent fascination with the desert, from alternative meteorological extremes, regarding the perseverance of active life.

If people and animals can find a way to live in distressing ubiquitous cold, why not the heat as well, swelteringly abounding with solar energy?

I'd have to keep sunscreen close at hand and resourcefully find shade wherever possible, my myriad freckles indubitably intensifying within the unforgiving heat!

With shade acquired and a general lack of alarming nauseating sunstroke however, it would be fun to work somewhere like the Bagdad Café for an indeterminate period of time.

If you ever visit the countryside and go with the flow at work and play, you may discover a world of wonder at novel peace home on the range.

It's not always like that of course but I was lucky in my youth.

I don't regret having had to leave.

But sometimes I wish I'd stayed. 

Multiplicity

Work at times prone all-encompassing as pressures and demands exponentially multiply, an occupation blended with leisure and family ubiquitous responsibility pending.

As long as expectations are reasonable and goals practically parlayed, it's manageable long-term through hands-on seasoned sympathetic accords.

But what if you could clone yourself and then send that very same clone to work, thereby allowing yourself more time to spend with family or perhaps relaxing?

And consider a second clone to then take care of your parental duties, leaving you with nothing but free time to galavant and jaunt and sojourn?

Multiplicity explores this possibility with comic slipshod rank effect, one risk-taker finagling flip facsimiles to free-up time in his busy schedule.

Fortunately, the clones don't mind and respond amenably to their roles, and don't question his cherished authority as he creates rules and regulations.

I would imagine a perfect clone would be more independent, and less willing to immediately respond to demanding occupational infrastructure.

The original is rewarded with cloned pertinent traits befitting related corresponding objectives, foreman model rather assertive while stay-at-home-dad flexibly accommodates. 

It's oddly a family film shot in the cuddly mass market style, wherein which endearing conglomerates generally avoid awkward confrontation.

The experiment has consequences but his wife and family persevere none-the-wiser, unaware that good-old-dad effectively abandoned them through surrogate censure.

Could a film this overtly insensitive be made in the 2020s, taking alternative multiplicities into consideration, from a less patriarchal point of view?

It seems that if one were to embrace equality while still endeavouring to cultivate shenanigans, both parties to the conjugal union should have duplicated themselves in secret.

Then perhaps 6-8 echoes would have to furtively avoid one another, while mayhem habitually metastasizes through the art of embellished absurdity.

They could perhaps all wind up living together with a massive feisty family.

That script may be overly complicated.

But still less of an abomination. 

Gung Ho

The straightforward practical approach distilling facts and unembellished know-how, freely shared at an international meeting delicately held to bring work back to town.

The people of Hadleyville, Pennsylvania, want to reopen the plant where they've built many automobiles, its jobs the driving force in the local economy, which heavily relies on their enriching abundance.

To make things work Japanese and American cultural preferences must coalesce, the management team promoting trusted principles that often lead to success in Japan.

They're much more intense than many are used to, the search for perfection ideally orchestrated, friction develops between workers and management as different work-life balances awkwardly clash.

I find the desire for perfection motivates many in North America, but if it isn't achieved the related penalties aren't quite as strict as presented in Gung Ho.

Fortunately, humour is appreciated and Hunt's (Michael Keaton) honest style intuitively builds bridges.

Desperately trying to hold his regenerated town together, he strives to bring mutually beneficial cultural accords to life.

Does the spirit of the 1980s still culturally flourish across the land, with individual critiques democratically striving to ensure multilateral communal parlay?

After having seen the documentary American Factory (2019) I'd say there's no doubt they're alive and well, a film that examines contemporary Chinese and American relations at a refurbished plant in nimble Moraine, Ohio. 

The two films go hand-in-hand and would fluidly make an instructive double-feature, as I mentioned in my Far & Away review, there was once a thriving impetus to keep things realistic (Gung Ho also directed by Ron Howard).

A more comprehensive investigation into how labour-relations have changed over the past 40 years, would indeed make a compelling read, and would in fact be fun to research.

Gung Ho's style of storytelling was quite prominent in my curious youth, a hard-working day complemented by study and time well-spent with friends and family.

Millions fought for centuries to bring the balanced state of affairs about.

Why is a healthy work-life balance controversial?

Co-starring George Wendt (Buster), Mimi Rogers (Audrey), John Turturro (Willie), Clint Howard (Paul), and Gedde Watanabe (Oishi Kazihiro).  

Sense and Sensibility

Sufficient evidence gathered hereinafter cordially suggests a blesséd state, was indeed embraced by Mr. Ferrars (Hugh Grant) and Ms. Elinor Dashwood (Emma Thompson) vigorously engaged in holy matrimony. 

Misfortune and finicky finances egregiously attempted to discourteously repudiate, but chance attuned to ethereal endeavour providentially bequeathed ecstatic union.

Regarding Ms. Marianne Dashwood (Kate Winslet), who had been laid low due to flagrant ignominy, and left to harken despondent despair after having shockingly admitted scandal, her path gregariously recultivated through less self-centred earthen pertinence, has been noted as indirectly ebullient at festive times courting celebration.

Somewhat odd to see such import indubitably attached to conjugal digression, the tragic dialectic intermediately adjoining romantic longing and practical accords, the vicious reprobation denying their freeform mutually beneficial cathartic synthesis, morosely encouraging robotic remonstrance as opposed to nuptial nadir. 

Proust had alternative thoughts altogether and dramatically critiqued his sibling's marital fancies, somewhat less enamoured with Victorian reverie even if it ironically permeates his alternative narrative.

Uncanny to envision a stately world wherein which no one works or toils, where the infringing struggles and herculean cynosure are strictly levelled through estate and income.

Not that other social strata don't freely admit grey bumptious bias, perhaps humorous pretensions synthetically compared enigmatically emitting concentric harmonies.

How to delicately enliven such incommensurable audiences without rashly contradicting audacious accords, a close study of one Jack Layton perhaps amenable to a discussion of Foucauldian power relations. 

I must admit, I'm more accustomed to less superstructural arrangements, wherein which a noteworthy cast from sundry domiciles fluently agitate and preposterously proclaim, although I have in fact read this book and clearly understand why so many still read Ms. Austen, there's no doubt she's atemporally gifted, not my style really, but better than most. 

Certainly a world in which the Dashwoods find their Ferrars and Colonels doesn't intuitively provoke inclement entropy, or cosmically upset reverential taste, I wonder what's happening in contemporary literature, as the counter-postmodern reformation blindly struggles. 

I just made that up, I assume that's what's happening anyways.

Focusing on Wabi Sabi myself. 

And the upcoming adventurous summer.

Co-starring Imelda Staunton (Charlotte Palmer), Alan Rickman (The Colonel), and Tom Wilkinson (Mr. Dashwood).

Brewster's Millions

Stipulations.

Conditions which must be reached for an unorthodox goal to be achieved.

At times simply nominal, at others quite the pain, Brewster's Millions embraces the latter, with munificent refrain.

Thus one Montgomery Brewster (Richard Pryor) discovers he's the only living relative of an eccentric recently passed multimillionaire (Hume Cronyn as Rupert Horn), and that he will inherit quite the sum, but only if can first spend 30 million in a month, without acquiring any assets, giving it to charity, or letting anyone else know why he's doing it.

There's the option for a single million no-holds-barred no rules and regulations, but he's a classic gamer and readily accepts the incredible challenge.

It's fun to watch while he lavishly embraces extreme generosity with his friends and staff, and goes about spreading sweetly flowing largesse wherever he happens to fortuitously be.

Notably with his old minor league baseball team with whom he sets up a 3-inning game versus the Yankees, and even pitches for awhile himself in front of the adoring Hackensack crowd.

The ways in which he daringly shares his newfound riches make sundry headlines, but no one can know why he's doing it, not even his closest friend (John Candy as Spike Nolan). 

But those who would inherit the 300 million should Mr. Brewster's efforts fail, diabolically engage in malfeasance designed to ensure their probable success.

Rather unsuspectingly Mr. Brewster proceeds with intuitive freewheelin' dignity.

That would have been quite the month.

Gratuities notwithstanding.

In terms of fun, the lucrative Brewster's Millions emphatically excels from different perspectives, kaleidoscopically coalesced in crafty inspirational song.

Politics takes a swift jab as the most prominent mayoral candidates are feverishly lambasted, Brewster deciding to run himself with no intentions of holding office.

Certainly a film that encourages dreaming or the age old what would I have done?, there's abundant remake opportunity here, just find a 21st-century angle.

I guess a sequel wasn't in the cards but I would have liked to have seen the story continue, nowadays there's no doubt there would have been at least a comic trilogy. 

A chill film if you're looking to relax and watch some craziness for 102 minutes.

Classic old school 1980s.

Co-starring Jerry Orbach (Charley Pegler), Pat Hingle (Edward Roundfield), Peter Jason (Chuck Fleming), Rick Moranis (Morty King), Yakov Smirnoff (Vladimir), and Joe Grifasi (J.B. Donaldo).  

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. 

City Heat

Old friends convivially concerned with awkward jurisprudent balance, searching for ways to creatively uphold loyal dis/continuous partnership.

They started out on the force together courageously seeking intuitive accolades, in possession of tenacious temperaments objectively nuanced with novel bravado.

One eventually couldn't cope with the structure the preponderant rules and regulations however, and sought to manage his own private business investigating peculiarities for discreet clients (Burt Reynolds as Mike Murphy). 

The other remained with the force and reached the rank of lieutenant through toil and sacrifice, preferring to work alone on his cases, flying into a rage if you knock over his coffee (Clint Eastwood as Lt. Speer). 

Murphy's new partner one Dehl Swift (Richard Roundtree) suddenly finds himself provocatively endowed, when the ledger of a prominent crook finds its way into his audacious hands.

It's a serious gamble to brashly infuriate such an unpredictable extreme personage, without much planning or an intricate network through which to find quarter should things go awry.

Things quickly do go awry and the confused Murphy is left to pick up the pieces. 

Worried about his friend, Lt. Speer closely monitors.

As things descend into embittered entropy.

Putting the squeeze on anger-prone higher-ups always seemed rather inconvenient to me, not worth the potential fall out should inherent irascibility hit the fan.

You'd have to move fast with no trail regardless and leave behind your old life forever, and make sure not to spend the entire payload since finding a new job may encourage shocking questions.

You'd have to keep your stories straight with multiple strangers for many a year, I suppose a lot of people don't really care, but some keep pressing for coherent detail.

I imagine City Heat was widely anticipated by sundry Eastwood, Reynolds and Roundtree fans, and at the time was like a prize fight between Ali and Foreman sponsored by King. 

The music's a lot of fun and the atmosphere captures the noir aesthetic, some of the lines are really cool too and delivered with classic sarcastic wherewithal. 

I imagine excitement got the better of them, with a bit more time and care this may have been classic.

Still definitely worth checking out for curious fans and noir devotees. 

*Co-starring Jack Nance (Aram Strossell), Robert Davi (Nino), William Sanderson (Lonnie Ash), and Rip Torn (Primo Pitt). 

Mrs. Doubtfire

Over the years times tragically change and stilted realities resonate objective, inspired spontaneity less pressingly urgent as prudent planning meticulously sways.

One dad isn't caught up with the firm glad handing notwithstanding, and routinely goes too far with a lack of understanding for conjugal limits (Robin Williams as Daniel Hillard).

Thus, one exuberant birthday kinetically overflowing with freeform merrymaking, Miranda Hillard (Sally Field) is furious when she returns home to find their house in borderline ruin.

It would have been an amazing time but perhaps was too unrestrained and shocking, the middle-ground isn't that schoolmarmish, just don't wreck the freakin' house!

Divorce soon looms lugubrious and the custody battle proves rather unfair, Mr. Hillard may be too freely accommodating, but there's no doubt he's an upstanding dad.

He would never hurt his kids or not be there for them if they needed help, he doesn't drink and wants to work, he just applies ethics to his lasting calling.

But the application of ethics begets realities the court can't comprehend, why he quit his job doing voices for cartoons doesn't factor in to his unemployment.

He has a gift for acting nevertheless and soon responds with stealth and cunning.

By applying for his ex-wife's housekeeping job.

As a British nanny named Mrs. Doubtfire.

Some say a gift for acting or that of taking on different personas, betrays fugacious foundations lacking lone substantial balance.

Although I find people that say that often aren't the greatest actors, and acting's one of those jobs so many people want, that if it doesn't work 'cadabra: envy.

It seems like if you were living with someone who could consistently shift personalities to suit the occasion, soirées would no doubt remain lively in consistent multivariable mettle.

I'm kind of habitually introverted so the desire to constantly engage eventually drives me nuts, but if I'm given time to relax in isolation I tend to bounce back far eager for more.

Mrs. Doubtfire's a tender film actively embracing pervasive creativity, as applied to youthful and mature perspectives, with no concern for gender bias.

How to sort through the different expectations various folk so readily apply?

I find it helps if they work to live.

And respect the arts post-27. 

Tender Mercies

A famous country & western singer who's been idle for several years, finds himself broke in an unknown hotel one sobering scant perplexing morning (Robert Duvall as Mr. Sledge).

Fortunately goodwill blossoms and he's offered a job taking care of the property, food and lodging worked into his cheque, it's not the greatest but it seems trusted stable.

As things become familiar, the owner takes a shine to his polite down home reckoning, and he responds with amorous accommodation the two soon marrying each for the second time.

Mr. Sledge has trouble with alcohol and solemnly recognizes he needs to steer clear, but sometimes it isn't as easy as just watching TV off the beaten track night after routine night.

He may have given it up but he once travelled from town to town, and had a solid reputation for endearing songwriting which earned quite the living far and wide.

A young group of struggling musicians discover his whereabouts and come a' callin', he's certainly not interested at first but slowly relaxes and responds obligingly. 

Will he be able to reforge a bond with the estranged daughter he hasn't seen in years (Ellen Barkin as Sue Anne)?

While learning to write songs once again?

And settling in with his new family?

Mild-mannered tame observation calmly generating commitment age old, convalescence coordinating calibrations reanimated rutabaga rapture.

The perfect recipe to get-back-at-it no immediate pressure no media exposure, just tranquil peace at play within inquisitive familial fulcrums.

The glitz and glamour while lucrative and shocking perhaps abounding with eclectic reliability, may detach creative peeps at times, from the habitual contemplation that led to so many of their hits.

With so many different people creating in different ways it's by no means a rule, but I love how The Rolling Stones created their best stuff on the run from the law in the French countryside.

Cities are fun since there's so much variability dependably mutating and chaotically harmonizing.

But there's still novelty in the countryside deep down, if you sit back and listen to the offbeat proclamations.

Not the ones that cross the line but that hasn't happened much in my experience.

It's a unique world abounding with novelty.

What's available, not what you can't buy. 

Far & Away

An industrious lad mourns the passing of his father only to have insult added to injury (Tom Cruise as Joseph Donnelly), as the landowner's bellicose representatives proceed to appropriate his property.

Unaccustomed to blunt disparity he takes the law into his own hands, and sets forth in perilous search of the oblivious aristocrat in question (Robert Prosky as Daniel Christie). 

Yet he's discovered asleep in the barn one scandalous inopportune strict morning, the estate owner's daughter having cleverly detected and proceeded to relieve him of his balance (Nicole Kidman as Shannon Christie). 

Nevertheless, he's soon challenged to duel where that very same lass comes uproariously rising, and leads him away in fact to a ship bound for North America.

The two make an awkward glib pairing as the fashionable lady must learn to work, while Joseph excels in the world of prize fighting and graciously teaches her how to make an honest living.

Pride diabolically emerges however and the honourable Donnelly soon loses his head.

Banned from ever boxing again within Boston.

They struggle to find food and shelter.

While watching Ron Howard's Far & Away I was reminded of realist ambitions, and the ways in which many artists in my youth delicately strove for historical accuracy.

Thus we see actual clothes being washed long before washing machines were invented, and near the end sundry wagons and horses vigorously line up to compete for Oklahoman land.

Class and privilege also haughtily fade as the levelling tides of prosperity mingle, the old world manifesting itself anew, while raw opportunity seeks its annulment. 

In terms of lending old and new world preponderances in a thrilling narrative equipped with romantic candour, Far & Away imaginatively and mischievously excels and makes me wonder why more hasn't been made of it.

Even before the Mission Impossible days Tom Cruise still cut his teeth as a prominent boxer, in conscientious drama wherein elfin which age old pluck and tenacity applauded.

Nicole Kidman also prospers as the stern maiden creatively and reflectively improvising, learning to follow her thoughtful instinct in a land much less prone to ancient pride.

Imagine Jane Austen was more of a rebel and took to the seas with Ernest Hemingway. 

Classic integral Ron Howard. 

Co-starring the daring Colm Meaney (Mr. Kelly).

Enigma

You wonder how many billions are wasted every year spying on other countries, without producing many results, imagine there was more of a consensus to productively get along, and those billions could be spent on jazz music and preponderant culture.

Were things much more worse off during the obsessed and stealthy brutal Cold War?

Or is there even more multilateral distrust cloaking international relations these days?

Hopefully not, a rather distressing subject such a shame it still persists, banal compulsions to preen and promulgate through listless superlative desire.

Enigma takes place during the Cold War in ye olde locked down strict East Germany, wherein which a covert operative seeks a coveted code scrambler.

The scrambler will theoretically give the West unlimited access to Soviet communications, and help them foil a pressing plot to murder 5 outspoken troublesome dissidents. 

Alex Holbeck (Martin Sheen) can hide in plain sight and has the luxury of remaining anonymous, even as his radio show consistently lambasted censure within the Iron Curtain, agents were never able to identify him, which left him somewhat of a free hand.

He has several contacts in East Germany to provide aid during his hour of need, but Russia has learned of his infiltration and sent their best man to intercept him (Sam Neill as Dimitri Vasilikov). 

A clever clandestine tale multilaterally results, resolute bravery and headstrong conviction guiding initiatives on either side.

Does the cultivation of novelty continuously have to adapt to fads and forums, do goodwill and peace not ethically transcend the cheeky impetus to shake things up?

Shouldn't resource provision and modest comfort not lead the way, with quality goods at affordable prices reasonably presented with dignified poise?

I suppose if trillions weren't spent every year on spying and the military you'd have to find something else for those people to do, notably the ones who weren't good enough to play football yet still sought volatile means at their disposal.

In the interests of taste, it would likely be a disaster if millions of them started to play the guitar, and endless songs about discipline and loyalty interminably bombarded television and the internet.

But I can sacrifice good taste if it means the curation of world peace.

What a strange world in which we live.

The animals couldn't think less of us. 

Threshold

Sure and steady patience and vigilance delicately guide a medical research team, as the leading American Heart Surgeon (Donald Sutherland as Dr. Thomas Vrain) searches for ways to save essential lives.

Not just in the United States but research teams engage proactively worldwide, and freely share their incredible findings with the goal of encouraging international comprehension.

It's cool to remember the public impetus to forge consensus in complex situations, and look for solutions to intricate problems far beyond one's trusted jurisdiction.

The ways in which scientists and various researchers constructively collaborate to solve compelling mysteries, in the interest of humanity gathered from Buenos Aires to Addis Ababa to Perth, Australia. 

Collective goals peacefully coinciding with affordable applications of the ingenious discoveries, so if someone gets sick they don't break the bank trying to recover from their pressing illness.

Such a blueprint seemed progressively paramount in the hopeful spirit of the '80s and '90s, and no doubt still efficiently elucidates, I just don't hear about it as often.

In Threshold (1981) it efficiently functions as Dr. Vrain attempts to save patients with troubling heart defects, heart transplants still in incipient stages, dedicated teams working on artificial alternatives.

He hires the romantic Dr. Aldo Gehring (Jeff Goldblum) to join his understaffed yet versatile team, and they create a brilliant short-term replacement for the old tactile ticker that keeps brazenly beating.

It must have seemed like an impossibility it still does to this day how is such a thing possible?, but then again how is the natural version capable of prolonged existence as it persistently pulsates every second of every day?

With all the talk about artificial intelligence and the theoretical worlds where cyborgs flourish (The Matrix etc.), it makes me wary that horrifying experiments will be secretly conducted to create cyborg brains.

The brain is indubitably organic, computers exalting metallic technology, how can they seamlessly function in unison, especially when so little is known about the brain, and its extraordinarily complex intricacies?

Beware enticing lucrative cash payouts which promise enormous sums if you participate in a study, hopefully the more scrupulous scientists remain vigilant and don't asks tens of thousands to give up their lives for cyborg research which may lead to nothing.

The body may be more robotic but how do we organically catalogue the mind?

The price is too high in my opinion.

The ends do not justify the means. 

Oliver & Company

Suddenly left on the side of the road in a box with several brothers and sisters, a young kitten struggles to comprehend the pressing misfortune closing in all around him (Joey Lawrence as Oliver). 

As fate would have it, he's left on his own, to swiftly intuit sundry sights and sounds, a lone dog taking note of his predicament, then enlisting his aid in an inspired heist.

Said heist proves rather successful but the trusting kitting is denied his fair share, the happenstance hound heading back to his troop to generously provide them with nutritious booty.

The kitty follows at dangerous speeds through perilous traffic and irate exclamations, fortunately locating the harangue hideaway before awkwardly crash-landing in the midst of the feast.

The startled pack isn't intently critical and in fact takes a shine to the curious kitten, freely rewarding his innate courage and granting him space to relax and unwind.

Everything isn't as harmless as it seems there's indeed diabolical parlay outstanding, their owner Fagin (Dom DeLuise) heavily indebted to one Mr. Sykes (Robert Loggia) who calls in the loan.

Desperate to pay back the money with no tactile means at his hapless disposal, volatile elaborate reckoning soon wildly instigates beguiling fathoms. 

Still inherently cute and cuddly even if mature themes at times disgruntle, the latent injustice picturesquely pronounced by the undeniably acute adorability.

Age old class tension gives way to reason as unintentional cruelty morosely erupts, the tender heart naturally accommodating free-flowing wonder and innocent guild. 

Fagin's somewhat different in this version which loosely sticks to the lithe Dickens classic, even though he's overtly destitute his homegrown caring spirit still radiates wealth.

I don't know much about money and I'm certainly no financial advisor, I do know that people who spend more than I do tend to seem like they're having more fun.

I've often felt like I've missed out because I never took a trip to Paris on Visa, I'm glad I don't have the debt, but still wish I had the eclectic memories. 

I'd advise caution when borrowing money and doing the math before taking a loan, if math's not your thing ask someone you trust for help, interest adds up quickly in lopsided circumstances.

Disney takes a hard look at urban life in this one as animation captures fast paced discretion, friendship and upstanding dependable camaraderie agilely lighting the industrious fore.

Be careful when taking on debt but make sure not to ignore the versatile human factor.

How many ways has it been said?

Some day I'm going to the SPCA.

Science is Fiction: 23 Films by Jean Painlevé

Long before David Attenborough started creating amazing nature documentaries, other visionary pioneering filmmakers set the cerebral stage, some not as fascinated by the more famous untamed beasties, like Jean Painlevé and Geneviève Hamon, who explored unheralded marine life for years.

They set their sights on the limitless sea and created a series of awe-inspiring films, creatively conjured and imaginatively nuanced in this chill and humorous compilation.

Instinctively driven by the unknown creatures whose otherworldly existence salutes biodiversity, they follow the lives of some of the most unique wild animals I've ever seen.

With instructive goals in mind and a desire to encourage aquatic acclimatization, to make one think of the billions of lives which exist beneath the waves while gazing outwards.

Indeed, parts of the ocean are rather similar to the sprawling concrete labyrinths we've come to know as cities, their complex interactive interconnected citizens having steadily evolved for resonant ages. 

I don't know what the turnover rate is for squirrel families on land in local forests, but the coolest thought is that the same squirrel fams have scamperingly existed in the same local woodland for thousands of generations (especially in areas with little to no human contact). 

That's why threats to endangered species acts are so shockingly foolish and cruel, the ways in which they ignore the millions of years these creatures have matured and developed alongside us.

They deserve to be left some space to roam as they freely have since they took formal shape, who are we to mess with the existence of outstanding miracles and flourishing distinction?

Painlevé and Hamon capture such life in its multivariable enriching abundance, and like poets unconcerned with fads they tenderly present the enticing unexpected.

I find with the plethora of contemporary nature documentaries illustriously abounding with fluent synergies, many of them don't lose sight of this focus and still present newfound insects etc.

Thus, in a program at times fiercely focused on lions and cheetahs, there's a pause in the imposing narrative to examine a bug or a bird or a rodent.

Like science-fiction and fantasy nature documentaries have changed remarkably since I was a wee lad.

With thanks to filmmakers like Painlevé and Hamon.

Who thought no doubt this is cool?

Ban octopus farms! 

🐙

Metropolitan

The allures of cerebral sophistication uncertainly engaged in gallant experiment, solemn yet tenderly familiar rhapsodic intrigue unembellished rapport.

Consistency generating parlay through meaningful harmonized inquisitive exchanges, perhaps forgotten perhaps foundational as various participants focus on detail.

An intricate eclectic forage producing novelty then kink then narrative, divergent degrees multivariably matriculating then suddenly retreating at times leaping forward.

The curious arrive impeccably intent on trying not to make too much of a mess of things, previous encounters traditionally manifesting subjective synergies objective illusion, new data eagerly incorporated to encourage sprightly dis/proportionate parentheses, emergent chronicles timidly testifying frenetic friendship ergo allegiance.

Provocative inklings invoking pause juxtaposed itinerancy serenading scandal, delicate proclivities enriching formulae ephemerally proclaimed with eternal fidelity.

The whirlwind continuously transforming ruminative stimuli with verbatim velocity, guests wildly windsurfing various trajectories with implicit inspired levity.

Be careful, that's a little bit country it may not fit with the paramount clout, no matter in due consideration to random versatile inclusive diversity.

Too many limits at times callously decomposing spontaneous free agile thought, not to embrace an abeyance of filters but neither to laud categorical dismissal.

It's like potential devotees of Proust who have in fact never even considered reading him, instinctually attempted to develop a salon in their quizzical youth with literary bearing.

What blossoms in In Search of Lost Time can be found germinating in Metropolitan, as several young adults gather in Manhattan to stylistically temper strike and ceremony.

Thoughts inevitably stray to the future wherein which imaginative blooms poll and posture.

Statistical reckoning fouling things up.

Best of friends.

Abstract associations. 

Captain America

The President of the United States plans to ecologically prognosticate, by organizing a conference with manifold countries with the goal of banning single use plastics.

But sinister disputative rivals seek the consistency of the status quo, and plan to secretly abduct him and create a surrogate they can control.

Unfortunately, conference security lacks resolute stalwart efficacy, and their plan works with unencumbered ease, U.S. security forces unable to find him thereinafter, the world not erupting with chaotic bewilderment. 

As chance would have it, around the same time, Captain America (Matt Salinger) is found frozen in ice, from which he escapes as it's encouraged to thaw, and then departs for Northern Canada.

50 years have past since he directly challenged Nazi scum, the world having changed remarkably in the democratic intervening years.

He heads out to visit his former love interest who waited for over a decade for him to return, but eventually settled and had a family embracing traditional communal concerns.

The same forces seeking to replace the President with their own despotic pestiferous double, soon find her trusted location and bellicosely proceed to express discontent.

Captain America must avenge them and save the President simultaneously.

Even if he doesn't know his way around (the globe).

And has no vast multivariable network.

It's sad to historically note that many sought the ban of single use plastics long ago, and while we've managed to ban such bags in Canada and Québec, the colossal profusion of said receptacles still abounds.

This old school Captain America rapscallionly radiates coruscating camp, with an heuristic experimental impetus diagnostically deconstructed with improvised invention.

Pioneering nevertheless the same general schematics alternatively applied, something to see for devoted fans which led to multiple meritorious mutations in the narrative.

It's a lot of fun to watch if you like camp with proactive nerve.

Co-starring ye olde Ned Beatty (Sam Kolawetz).

The fantastic blueprints.

In primordial form.

Melvin and Howard

Bewildering serendipitous authenticity remains a curious cultural phenomenon, as applied to stratified stereoscopic intersections which theoretically shouldn't muck everything up.

The level-playing field aside, I suppose if an important highly coveted legal document appears out of the blue, and the individual in related question hardly knew its eccentric author, whether or not it is indeed genuine becomes a pressing question, certainly if one man was worth hundreds of millions and the other struggling to get by.

But could it not be more sincerely American that a billionaire would leave millions to someone he hardly knew, due to the poetic nature of the declaration of independence in which every man (and woman) is created equal?

Thus, is that one random encounter which seems to have been divinely orchestrated, wherein which ignorance leads to conviviality and a general lack of uptight pretension, more valuable than a lifetime of stilted sycophancy as applied to thriving life, the retiring uncanny person in question desperately in search of lauded novelty?

Sounds classically American to me at least according to the films and television shows I used to watch, which seemed to cohesively suggest brother and sisterhood were warmly welcome.

When you consider that if Melvin (Paul Le Mat) had received such news in Britain he would have been swiftly and shockingly shot down, for having had the nerve to claim vigorous industry even though he lacked tact or title, it makes his lack of success in the states all the more depressing even if his attitude is honest and realistic, who knows, perhaps I'm way off base and such a development would have found more support 'cross the pond.

I suppose it depends on how various forces are aligned and how those alignments mutate as the phenomenon progresses, various alternative symphonic synergies culturally clashing ethically and politically. 

Consistent outcomes at times disillusioning still outmanoeuvred by integral hope.

Fatalistic reasoning's rather off-putting.

And generally contradicted through proactive study.