Nothin' comin.'
Beautiful view though.
Plains, buildings, the Bow River.
Bought a new shirt today
and some socks.
Mountains in the distance with Bears.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen
Michael Bay's Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen picks up with the Autobots and the American military chasing down villainous Decepticons throughout planet Earth. Humanoid hero Sam Witwicky (Shia LaBeouf) is preparing for both college and a long term relationship with love interest Mikaela Banes (Megan Fox) before discovering that his previous encounter with the Allspark has given him exceptional scientific and linguistic abilities. And Starscream (Charlie Adler) has rallied the troops with the assistance of The Fallen (Tony Todd) and is preparing to resurrect Megatron (Hugo Weaving) so that he can lead an invasion force to use an ancient device buried within a pyramid to harvest the energon lying within our Sun.
But he didn't count on contending against the power of love.
With nearly two and a half hours of footage, the film covers a tremendous amount of ground planted with the same silly comedic distractions and fast-paced shallow dialogue that dominated its predecessor. At the same time, with so many characters demanding their voice be heard, and so many plot threads requiring a cinematic stitch, I suppose terse dialogue is necessary if not disappointing. John Turtorro (Agent Simmons) steals the show once again and revitalizes the second act with an energetically offbeat and charismatic transformation. And there were a number of points after the second hour where I thought Revenge of the Fallen was going to end in an Empire Strikes Back like fashion (without a carbonite parallel) and leave us eagerly anticipating the next installment. But it kept going and the audience kept cheering and I couldn't help feeling old for searching for something more than explosive battles, competent clichés (Turtorro stating "not on my watch" for instance), and frustrating familial filibusters.
One Transformer did stand out for me however because his presence attached a bit of ambiguity to the either/or dynamic lying at the heart of the Autobot/Decepticon feud. Jetfire (Mark Ryan) was once a Decepticon but decided to join the Autobots after centuries of fighting. True, there are still only two choices, Autobots or Decepticons, but it's nice to see a freethinking character who was able to change his allegiances based upon his subjective interpretation of his historical circumstances.
But he didn't count on contending against the power of love.
With nearly two and a half hours of footage, the film covers a tremendous amount of ground planted with the same silly comedic distractions and fast-paced shallow dialogue that dominated its predecessor. At the same time, with so many characters demanding their voice be heard, and so many plot threads requiring a cinematic stitch, I suppose terse dialogue is necessary if not disappointing. John Turtorro (Agent Simmons) steals the show once again and revitalizes the second act with an energetically offbeat and charismatic transformation. And there were a number of points after the second hour where I thought Revenge of the Fallen was going to end in an Empire Strikes Back like fashion (without a carbonite parallel) and leave us eagerly anticipating the next installment. But it kept going and the audience kept cheering and I couldn't help feeling old for searching for something more than explosive battles, competent clichés (Turtorro stating "not on my watch" for instance), and frustrating familial filibusters.
One Transformer did stand out for me however because his presence attached a bit of ambiguity to the either/or dynamic lying at the heart of the Autobot/Decepticon feud. Jetfire (Mark Ryan) was once a Decepticon but decided to join the Autobots after centuries of fighting. True, there are still only two choices, Autobots or Decepticons, but it's nice to see a freethinking character who was able to change his allegiances based upon his subjective interpretation of his historical circumstances.
Flex
Managed to find a muscle.
Organized a flight.
Tempered daydreams
stitched and churned,
emphasized and tight.
Organized a flight.
Tempered daydreams
stitched and churned,
emphasized and tight.
View
Must choose some
thing across that line,
break, onwards,
look there,
reflect,
steady, simple, strung,
don't know,
to the left, it'll be
certain, certainly,
something.
thing across that line,
break, onwards,
look there,
reflect,
steady, simple, strung,
don't know,
to the left, it'll be
certain, certainly,
something.
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
David Yates's adaptation of J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince brings the novel to life in a maturely adolescent fashion. Harry's (Daniel Radcliffe) back for his sixth year at Hogwarts and Lord Voldemort's Death Eaters are unleashing carnage and destruction in their wake. Professor Dumbledore (Michael Gambon) teaches Harry about Voldemort's past by means of a number of catalogued memories while Hermione (Emma Watson) and Ron (Rupert Grint) struggle with the complicated realities of their mutual attraction. The film sparingly presents a number of the novel's notable novelties such as the underground trade in love potions which keeps the narrative firmly rooted in Potter lore while also highlighting its youthful candour. When juxtaposed with its darkened domain, wherein the heroes must deal with confrontational pressures of position, age, and responsibility, the result is an entertaining synthesis of mirth and menace, well worth the 150 odd minutes.
Symptom
Friction, diction,
nails and nights,
rising tides negated
tightly torn and worn
on weathered statures,
incandescent bombast,
rapture, look down
in that burrow there,
lounging, bounding, focused,
fair, a pattern plucked in sharp
relief, constitutive,
bold, and brief.
nails and nights,
rising tides negated
tightly torn and worn
on weathered statures,
incandescent bombast,
rapture, look down
in that burrow there,
lounging, bounding, focused,
fair, a pattern plucked in sharp
relief, constitutive,
bold, and brief.
Xavier
Mellow, laid back
peaceful beat,
supple melodic
sound.
Freely bracing
gentle feets,
sweetly flowing sound.
Together, unity in time
with 6 strings keeping pace.
You make me wish that I could
dance with jaunty ludic grace.
Thanks for the Juniper.
peaceful beat,
supple melodic
sound.
Freely bracing
gentle feets,
sweetly flowing sound.
Together, unity in time
with 6 strings keeping pace.
You make me wish that I could
dance with jaunty ludic grace.
Thanks for the Juniper.
Jerichow
Christian Petzold's Jerichow cultivates the convoluted hardline between economics and ethics by establishing a complicated love triangle hewn according to jealous guidelines. Thomas (Benno Fürmann) finds work as a cucumber harvester after losing everything only to one day be granted an exceptional opportunity to work as the full-time driver for Ali Ŏzkan (Hilmi Sözer), alcoholic owner of a variety of snack stands. Ali's wife Laura (Nina Hoss) has little love for her abusive husband and quickly falls for quiet Thomas after said husband has to many drinks one sunny afternoon. Thomas plays by his own rules in a resignedly loyal fashion and while wishing to remain fidel can't overcome the immediate demands of his attraction. Laura's dark past keeps her committed to Ali while yearning for something more and the two lovers create a plot whose exposition results in an intrepidly ironic resolution.
Jerichow competently explores a hopeless and foolishly profound situation wherein which three individuals attempt to do what is right while consistently colliding with what is present. Plans, projections, and unforeseen disruptions tie together their various schemes while simultaneously unravelling the knot. There's a choice, a result, a consequence, each of which could have been mitigated if it wasn't for the unfathomable dictates of 'required.' Solace in circumstance, predictability in numbers, regrets amidst happenstance.
Hell no.
Jerichow competently explores a hopeless and foolishly profound situation wherein which three individuals attempt to do what is right while consistently colliding with what is present. Plans, projections, and unforeseen disruptions tie together their various schemes while simultaneously unravelling the knot. There's a choice, a result, a consequence, each of which could have been mitigated if it wasn't for the unfathomable dictates of 'required.' Solace in circumstance, predictability in numbers, regrets amidst happenstance.
Hell no.
Australia
Baz Luhrmann's Australia is a sincerely grand spectacle shot in the Gone with the Wind epic style minus about an hour and one intermission. Lady Sarah Ashley (Nicole Kidman) moves from Britain to Australia's Northern Territory with the intent of selling her husband's ranch, known as Faraway Downs. But upon her arrival she discovers he's dead and that there's been some seriously underhanded wheeling and dealing taking place on their land. Hence, she decides to drove (move cattle across a distance) her husband's cattle to Darwin in order to prevent his rival King Carney (Bryan Brown) from monopolizing the business. To drove she must find a drover and a tough-as-nails-plays-by-his-own-rules-no-one-hires-me-no-one-fires-me Drover (Hugh Jackman) surfaces and reluctantly agrees to assist. To stop them, Carney requires a villain, and weaselly-dead-beat-dad-environmentally-abusive Neil Fletcher (David Wenham) agrees to arrest their stride. Tying together and narrating the different multilayered threads is an Aboriginal child named Nullah (Brandon Walters) who desperately wants to avoid being taken away from his home and sent to a mission. And in the second half Japan invades, disrupting their insatiable antagonisms and turning both old and new worlds upside down.
A lot of what takes place in Australia is sappy, predictable, and highly melodramatic: but it's the best damned melodrama I've seen in years and every time I knew what was going to happen I happily sat back and soaked up the sentiments. Lady Ashley is one brazen, solid, tenacious, heroine who lives by a strict and passionate code which occasionally yields unfortunate yet necessary results. The Drover droves dynamically and thanks to Lady Ashley's inspiration overcomes many of his social phobias eventually maintaining that certain things simply shouldn't be. And it's simply great to watch them ferociously fall in love even though snobby socialites turn up their noses and utter banal witticisms at their expense. An epic tale complete with heartfelt harmonies and progressive social symphonies, Australia may be a bit hard to take at times, but the overall product is downright resilient, all down the line.
A lot of what takes place in Australia is sappy, predictable, and highly melodramatic: but it's the best damned melodrama I've seen in years and every time I knew what was going to happen I happily sat back and soaked up the sentiments. Lady Ashley is one brazen, solid, tenacious, heroine who lives by a strict and passionate code which occasionally yields unfortunate yet necessary results. The Drover droves dynamically and thanks to Lady Ashley's inspiration overcomes many of his social phobias eventually maintaining that certain things simply shouldn't be. And it's simply great to watch them ferociously fall in love even though snobby socialites turn up their noses and utter banal witticisms at their expense. An epic tale complete with heartfelt harmonies and progressive social symphonies, Australia may be a bit hard to take at times, but the overall product is downright resilient, all down the line.
Highlands Cinema
The Highlands Cinema and Movie Museum is a definite must see for film fanatics. Located in scenic Kinmount, Ontario, this diamond in the rough is the coolest place I've ever seen a film. Make sure you arrive at least a half hour early to view the Movie Museum including The Way We Were. Damned impressive.
Tether
Foraging freely
fortunate dance
bear claw barriers
bench by the seaway
Clyde's misty makeup
trotting on trails
vintage experience
mottled infrequent
down the lane
Queen of Spades.
fortunate dance
bear claw barriers
bench by the seaway
Clyde's misty makeup
trotting on trails
vintage experience
mottled infrequent
down the lane
Queen of Spades.
Iris
Bottled water tramcar
prismic black leather
tight focused rims shielding
instigated vigils
on the ridge.
prismic black leather
tight focused rims shielding
instigated vigils
on the ridge.
Waltz with Bashir (Vals Im Bashir)
Ari Folman's Waltz with Bashir's jam packed with divergent expressions of militaristic bravado condensed into an animated arsenal whose ending champions peace. Film director Ari Folman can't remember the details of his war experience and begins trying to unravel them through a series of conversations with old wartime associates. The frame becomes less opaque but he still can't remember the details of a Palestinian massacre that took place in Lebanon during the early 1980s. Searching and seeking and sleuthing and suffering. Roll away the stone, deal with it on your own. And that stone is brilliantly rolled away no doubt explaining why Waltz received so much praise last year in various film circuits. The ending's as powerful as that from Neil LaBute's In the Company of Men, a stark realistic extended yet minimalist encounter with death, serpentinely subverting the previous material's form, highlighting the necessity of peace (in Company the encounter's with life). The score contains jingoist jargon, retro rhythms, symphonic stitches, and electronic nuts. A multidimensional collapse built into an unforgettable relapse.
The Examined Life
Astra Taylor's The Examined Life presents intimate encounters with 9 feisty thinkers as they move about pondering the world around them. Daily life's complexities examined through particularly constructive multidimensional lenses, Cornel West, Avital Ronnell, Peter Singer, Slavoj Žižek, Martha Nussbaum, Michael Hardt, Kwame Anthony Appiah, Judith Butler, and Sunaura Taylor offer insights into God, death, responsibility, politics, and prada within. Can poetry and spirituality be found in a dimension of pure mathematical abstraction? Are expensive clothes worth their ethical price tag? How does one transfer Central American revolutionary political ideas to the landscape of the United States? What are the benefits of a road leading nowhere? How do we deal with grandiose philosophical treatises which leave out substantially significant details yet find themselves culturally reified? How do we progressively utilize an anxiety disorder's strength? Have you ever been so wrapped up in a book you've had to stop reading to prevent the ecstasy from becoming overbearing? Melancholia, failure, rebuilding, commitment, starvation, the Blues. And I've finally heard someone else say they've been nervous ordering coffee! A profound treat for the intellectual senses, Taylor's The Examined Life offers poignant insights in explosively lucid bits and bites and shouldn't be missed if you're even remotely interested in viewing philosophy in motion.
Mixed-Grill of wild boar, quail, and pheasant sausage covered in a Saskatoon berry reduction and layered on a bed of cheddar mashed potatoes: not bad.
The Saskatoon berry's sort of like a blueberry-raspberry-raisin. I'd love to spend an afternoon pickin' and eatin' them in a field with a French girl and a picnic basket containing a nicoise salad and a bottle of red wine, bears grazing in the distance.
Make that three bottles of red wine.
The Saskatoon berry's sort of like a blueberry-raspberry-raisin. I'd love to spend an afternoon pickin' and eatin' them in a field with a French girl and a picnic basket containing a nicoise salad and a bottle of red wine, bears grazing in the distance.
Make that three bottles of red wine.
Went out for ice cream the other day after doing laundry with a friend and ordered Gold Ripple in order to finish in first place. Afterwards, upon returning home, she asked whether or not it would be prudent to bring her cone down the road to her boyfriend's worksite in order to see if he would like to enjoy some ice cream as well. I immediately responded that if I had a partner who unexpectedly brought me something as tasty as ice cream while I was diligently working I would consequently consider them to be marriage material. Off she went and her partner was indeed quite happy with the treat.
Partners who provide their partners with delicious food items on a consistent basis: A plus.
Partners who provide their partners with delicious food items on a consistent basis: A plus.
Doubt
John Patrick Shanley's Doubt presents a simple story layered with political complexities in a straightforward manner. Sister Aloysius Beauvier (Meryl Streep) austerely respects the rules and regulations of her church's code but nevertheless her shrewd devotion challenges its gender based hierarchy when a Priest's conduct seems to be crossing the line. Father Brendan Flynn (Philip Seymour Hoffman) delivers heartfelt homilies and appears to be genuinely caring for his flock but his methods become suspect and Beauvier launches an unrelenting underground crusade to have them rigorously reprimanded. But Sister James (Amy Adams) disagrees with her verdict and demonstrates a sincere degree of courage herself as suspicion and rumour threaten the integrity of their congregation. And Mrs. Miller illustrates how hard it can be being the loving mother of a child who receives contempt from both his classmates and his abusive father, Viola Davis providing a profound cameo whose impact is strong enough to momentarily distract the audience from the rest of the cast's assiduous acting.
Shanley's screenplay provides Doubt's principal characters with a stark cinescape within which to display their raw talents and they succeed in infusing potentially stale caricatures with a sincere degree of dynamically subdued emotion. With difficult subject matter displayed in a directly ambiguous fashion, Doubt deftly demonstrates the refined results of one woman's committed, determined resolve, while simultaneously pointing out how seriously problematic the maintenance of such a disposition can be.
Shanley's screenplay provides Doubt's principal characters with a stark cinescape within which to display their raw talents and they succeed in infusing potentially stale caricatures with a sincere degree of dynamically subdued emotion. With difficult subject matter displayed in a directly ambiguous fashion, Doubt deftly demonstrates the refined results of one woman's committed, determined resolve, while simultaneously pointing out how seriously problematic the maintenance of such a disposition can be.
Sawdust and Tinsel (Gycklarnas afton)
It's difficult to discuss Ingmar Bergman's Sawdust and Tinsel without describing exactly what happens so lets just say it's a hard-boiled bucolic tale of a traveling circus's harrowing hardships. The principle theme is fidelity and how love transforms and evolves according to the designs of each distinct challenge it faces. Time, the grind, the future in mind. Bergman uses his profound sensitivity (in the form of a lurid tale of temptation and trust) to lure us into his narrative and adjust to its particular pace. Within, we live and breathe the trials and tribulations of the Alberti Circus as they try their best to make a buck. The politics of the performing arts are displayed as Albert Johansson (Åke Grönberg) must borrow costumes from a local theatre, and insights into an aging traveling artist's psyche are provided as Albert explains to his ex-wife (Annika Tretow) why he's never been able to settle down.
There's also a bear.
If looking for a glimpse of Bergman's early work or an examination of the realities interrogating a manner of life that often isn't the focus of a feature film, Sawdust and Tinsel is worth checking out. Playful and poignant, tragic and lucid, all the while reminding one of the importance of not taking their selves to seriously, it instills a romantic and dedicated cantoring caravan with a profound degree of vivacious sentiment, dealing with that which must be dealt, rolling on down the road.
There's also a bear.
If looking for a glimpse of Bergman's early work or an examination of the realities interrogating a manner of life that often isn't the focus of a feature film, Sawdust and Tinsel is worth checking out. Playful and poignant, tragic and lucid, all the while reminding one of the importance of not taking their selves to seriously, it instills a romantic and dedicated cantoring caravan with a profound degree of vivacious sentiment, dealing with that which must be dealt, rolling on down the road.
Gran Torino
Clint Eastwood's back at it again playing and directing the lovably cantankerous and bitter hero of Gran Torino. Walt Kowalski tells it like he sees it, holding back nothing, ever, period. Does he want to confess his sins to an overeducated virgin straight out of the seminary (Christopher Carley): no he does not. Does he want to have a potentially soul searching conversation with his acquisitive granddaughter (Dreama Walker): once again, no. Does he want to do anything that doesn't fit his perfectly prescribed and particular way of doing things: shit no. There's a routine, he knows it well, he follows it, that's it, end of story.
Until he catches pesky Thao Vang Lor (Bee Vang) trying to steal his prized Gran Torino from his garage one night. At first, his response is predictable: stay the hell off my lawn I should have shot you yap yip. But his wife has died and he has nothing to do so he begins to take an interest in his shy sensitive neighbour, especially after a local gang tries to unconditionally recruit him. Walt sticks up for young Thao but the gangland politics prove to be pernicious, leaving him stuck between his rock and their hard place, searching for a strict solution to a grizzly state of affairs. Basically, he's lived his whole life quietly suffering from his war wounds and now has a chance to vindicate himself for his crimes. So he digs in his heels and responds with his gut, eventually providing a shattered family with a sincere degree of holistic satisfaction.
It's Clint Eastwood at his best, delivering another strong performance in a downtrodden caustic tragedy stripped straight from the hood. Can one curmudgeony man's dying attempt to befriend a neighbour make up for a lifetime of familial and communal neglect? Why yes, yes it can, and Gran Torino illustrates how seriously affective one man's commitment to solidarity can be, this is a bar padre, you'll have a drink, she likes you, go with it, yeah.
Until he catches pesky Thao Vang Lor (Bee Vang) trying to steal his prized Gran Torino from his garage one night. At first, his response is predictable: stay the hell off my lawn I should have shot you yap yip. But his wife has died and he has nothing to do so he begins to take an interest in his shy sensitive neighbour, especially after a local gang tries to unconditionally recruit him. Walt sticks up for young Thao but the gangland politics prove to be pernicious, leaving him stuck between his rock and their hard place, searching for a strict solution to a grizzly state of affairs. Basically, he's lived his whole life quietly suffering from his war wounds and now has a chance to vindicate himself for his crimes. So he digs in his heels and responds with his gut, eventually providing a shattered family with a sincere degree of holistic satisfaction.
It's Clint Eastwood at his best, delivering another strong performance in a downtrodden caustic tragedy stripped straight from the hood. Can one curmudgeony man's dying attempt to befriend a neighbour make up for a lifetime of familial and communal neglect? Why yes, yes it can, and Gran Torino illustrates how seriously affective one man's commitment to solidarity can be, this is a bar padre, you'll have a drink, she likes you, go with it, yeah.
Revolutionary Road
Sam Mendes's Revolutionary Road spikes a solid conjugal punch with a healthy dose of conflicting viewpoints regarding the process of prioritization. What comes first, your heart or your responsibilities?, your dreams or your obligations? Frank (Leonardo DiCaprio) and April (Kate Winslet) Wheeler's marriage convolutes the aforementioned polarities leaving them stark yet twisted, barren yet novel. The Wheelers meet fall in love at a party then find themselves married. Frank has a hard time clueing in and April doesn't take to being a housewife. They come up with an ingenious plan to break from the suburbs and escape to Paris much to the confusion of the neighbouring Campbells (Kathyrn Hahn and David Harbour) and the delight of local lunatic John Givings (Michael Shannon). But promotion, pregnancy, and adultery complicate their departure, leaving room for many a heart breaking fight and several despotic discussions.
It's a good look at the darker side of marriage, commitment, fidelity, routine. I mean, neither of them even speak French (although no one mentions this [a sly take on how to socially deal with spur of the moment surprise situations]). Frank's a dick and to caught up in the ways of the world to seriously listen to his beautiful wife, thereby breaking her romantic heart and rupturing his own. And only Mr. Givings shares in their dreams, eventually unleashing a monstrous onslaught of vituperative contempt after discovering there may be a change of plan.
Strong emotional impact, neither kitschy nor melodramatic, heartfelt, conditioned, real; a solid American movie. There should be some serious debate regarding whether or not this is a feminist or a masculinist film, meaning that's its packed with critical controversy. Love, loyalty, leisure, loss, I don't know anything about being married but understand that it lasts for a long time and some people have trouble adjusting to the status quo, no matter what the price tag. Could save your marriage or break it apart if you happened to love movies as much as I do and were married to me. Reason number 723 . . .
It's a good look at the darker side of marriage, commitment, fidelity, routine. I mean, neither of them even speak French (although no one mentions this [a sly take on how to socially deal with spur of the moment surprise situations]). Frank's a dick and to caught up in the ways of the world to seriously listen to his beautiful wife, thereby breaking her romantic heart and rupturing his own. And only Mr. Givings shares in their dreams, eventually unleashing a monstrous onslaught of vituperative contempt after discovering there may be a change of plan.
Strong emotional impact, neither kitschy nor melodramatic, heartfelt, conditioned, real; a solid American movie. There should be some serious debate regarding whether or not this is a feminist or a masculinist film, meaning that's its packed with critical controversy. Love, loyalty, leisure, loss, I don't know anything about being married but understand that it lasts for a long time and some people have trouble adjusting to the status quo, no matter what the price tag. Could save your marriage or break it apart if you happened to love movies as much as I do and were married to me. Reason number 723 . . .
Rain Clouds
So we wanted to go for a walk, right, so we got in the car. On our way to the trail it started raining so we turned around. After turning around we saw a beautiful postcardy cloud formation which we briefly checked out. Then, the rain having stopped, we decided to drive to another trail only to have our second destination curtailed by another burst of rain which caused us to return home while viewing another stunning cloud formation. Upon our return home, it was raining yet again which resulted in a decision to go swimming in order to embrace the environmental stimuli. And after that swim was finished, a third resplendent cloud formation was viewed. Pretty cool.
Breathless (À bout de souffle)
Jean-Luc Godard's Breathless begins with car thief Michel Poiccard (Jean-Paul Belmondo) declaring that he is no good, which he most certainly is. And it's fun to watch him go about the days events after he rashly commits an act of murder. It's only a film and Poiccard is nothing more than he says that he is.
With no attachments, no responsibilities, no knowledge of cause or effect, Poiccard dipsy-doodles throughout Paris and hooks up with aspiring young writer Patricia Franchini (Jean Seberg). They enjoy each other's company and their innocent sprightly spur of the moment mischievous and for the most part mendacious dialogue consummately untethers a convivial non-committal conversation (between friends of would be lovers). His father was a genius on the clarinet, you can always tell someone's afraid if they fail to light their cigarette, do you prefer my eyes, my lips, or my shoulders?, we're like elephants hiding (not exact quotes). During their dialogue it's tough to imagine Poiccard as a murderer and the ways in which Godard desensationalizes both the act and the criminal accrues myriad deconstructionist dividends. It's obvious Poiccard's time's running out and it's obvious he's oblivious to everything that didn't happen three hours ago. It's not that he can't feel remorse, it's that he can't feel anything that isn't capriciously linked to his existentially disaffected manner. Hence, he's intriguing, for a bit of light-hearted distraction, while the authorities close in, just lean, mean, and on the screen. Faulkner and Dylan Thomas are mentioned. Can't tell if she's a Femme Fatale (it's ironic). And there's an interview with an author who provides perspicacious insights into open-ended culturally popular questions.
With no attachments, no responsibilities, no knowledge of cause or effect, Poiccard dipsy-doodles throughout Paris and hooks up with aspiring young writer Patricia Franchini (Jean Seberg). They enjoy each other's company and their innocent sprightly spur of the moment mischievous and for the most part mendacious dialogue consummately untethers a convivial non-committal conversation (between friends of would be lovers). His father was a genius on the clarinet, you can always tell someone's afraid if they fail to light their cigarette, do you prefer my eyes, my lips, or my shoulders?, we're like elephants hiding (not exact quotes). During their dialogue it's tough to imagine Poiccard as a murderer and the ways in which Godard desensationalizes both the act and the criminal accrues myriad deconstructionist dividends. It's obvious Poiccard's time's running out and it's obvious he's oblivious to everything that didn't happen three hours ago. It's not that he can't feel remorse, it's that he can't feel anything that isn't capriciously linked to his existentially disaffected manner. Hence, he's intriguing, for a bit of light-hearted distraction, while the authorities close in, just lean, mean, and on the screen. Faulkner and Dylan Thomas are mentioned. Can't tell if she's a Femme Fatale (it's ironic). And there's an interview with an author who provides perspicacious insights into open-ended culturally popular questions.
Drunken Angel (Yoidore Tenshi)
Akira Kurosawa's Drunken Angel examines the life and times of a frank doctor whose passionate commitment to rationality leads to a puzzling confrontation with a neighbourhood syndicate. Alcoholic Dr. Sanada (Takashi Shimura) tells it like it is and doesn't hold back his professional opinion when confronted with the violent and feudal aggression of criminal thugs. His practice is located by a swampy chemical bath that his unchecked drinking has forced him to reside beside. Enter Matsunaga (Toshirô Mifune), territorial chief and reluctant sufferer of tuberculosis. His underground lifestyle has trouble adjusting to Sanada's problematic prescriptions notably due to rival chief Okada's (Reisaburo Yamamoto) reappearance on his hard fought for turf. Okada's prominence soon seeks Matsunaga's love interest as well, and as he's overtly pushed out of the gang, tempers flair and tensions despair.
Dr. Sanada forms an awkward friendship with Matsunaga for he recognizes within the young hood a semblance of his own brazen youth and wants to help him transcend his life of crime. Sanada also boldly defends the rights of women when Okada comes seeking the attention of Nurse Miyo (Chieko Nakakita) (his former partner). But as Sanada fades from the narrative the film's temperamentally upbeat focus dissipates as well and Matsunaga is left alone to confront the heartless confines of his changing world. Princes among paupers, heroes amidst happenstance, in Drunken Angel Kurosawa deftly displays one man's brave attempts to save a lost soul, all the while offering progressive social commentary that highlights how he's saved his own.
Dr. Sanada forms an awkward friendship with Matsunaga for he recognizes within the young hood a semblance of his own brazen youth and wants to help him transcend his life of crime. Sanada also boldly defends the rights of women when Okada comes seeking the attention of Nurse Miyo (Chieko Nakakita) (his former partner). But as Sanada fades from the narrative the film's temperamentally upbeat focus dissipates as well and Matsunaga is left alone to confront the heartless confines of his changing world. Princes among paupers, heroes amidst happenstance, in Drunken Angel Kurosawa deftly displays one man's brave attempts to save a lost soul, all the while offering progressive social commentary that highlights how he's saved his own.
JCVD
One of the most playfully poignant and unexpectedly self-reflexive films I've seen in awhile is Mabrouk El Mechri's JCVD. The film is downright fantastic. Within, the narrative unravels in the present but frequently cuts back to the past in order to focus its "answer before the question" frame, a frame which postures the problems Jean-Claude Van Damme's been having finding roles outside of the kitschy films in which he has been generally cast. His fans greet him with enthusiastic applause and he responds by willingly having his picture taken with them and signing autographs. They love him because of the ways in which he fought to become a star, the hardships he dealt with in order to craft his own sacred place within the world of action films (all the while remaining a regular guy). Unfortunately, that place was rigidly hewn and Van Damme's attempts to break free from its caricatures (in both his professional and personal lives) have proven to be an even tougher battle (which JCVD resolutely wages). An ambiguously and seriously comedic film noiresque aesthetic is cultivated throughout and it's pleasantly impossible to determine what precisely is going on, the sentimentally offbeat and bang on content carving a multidimensional portrait which deconstructs Van Damme's popularized aura. Take the scene where the bank robbers argue over what course they should take and one of them shoots the other in the head and the bullet refuses to pass through his skull (is this an example of realism and do my expectations regarding the bullet's impact ironically highlight the ways in which I've been misled by the fantastic elements of action films?); or the soliloquy Van Damme is suddenly presented with before the dénouement, wherein he brilliantly outlines his troubles, shedding maudlin perfectly placed tears in order to ambivalently mitigate their impact (the film concerns a bank robbery wherein the robbers hold Van Damme hostage and he has to use his brains rather than his brawn to save lives). The foils are doubled and even tripled throughout as Van Damme takes advantage of the situation to pay off his legal bills in an attempt to mollify his captors and secure custody of his daughter which only backfires in the end, landing him in prison for extortion at the exact moment he has ironically freed himself from his type casted chains.
Much to the dismay of his confused parents.
This is definitely my favourite Van Damme film (although I also love Bloodsport) and it's great to see him provided with the opportunity to rigorously refine a role (no doubt he is able to display a broader range of emotion due to the fact that it's shot in his native French [while also leaving him room to showcase his hard fought mastery of the English language!]). Deconstructing what it means to be a Van Damme film while simultaneously reestablishing their iconic images, Mechri's JCVD is an intellectual treat for the popularized senses, a crowning achievement within the action film genre, and reminiscent of the French New Wave.
Much to the dismay of his confused parents.
This is definitely my favourite Van Damme film (although I also love Bloodsport) and it's great to see him provided with the opportunity to rigorously refine a role (no doubt he is able to display a broader range of emotion due to the fact that it's shot in his native French [while also leaving him room to showcase his hard fought mastery of the English language!]). Deconstructing what it means to be a Van Damme film while simultaneously reestablishing their iconic images, Mechri's JCVD is an intellectual treat for the popularized senses, a crowning achievement within the action film genre, and reminiscent of the French New Wave.
Defiance
Edward Zwick's Defiance chronicles the harrowing and heroic plight of a group of valiant Jewish villagers as they hold out in the forest against Nazi oppression. As World War II rages on, the inhabitants of Belarussia fall prey to fascist aggression and must find a way to survive against seemingly insurmountable odds. Brothers Tuvia (Daniel Craig), Zus (Liev Schreiber) and Asael Bielski (Jamie Bell) lead the group and struggle to maintain both a sense of community and fraternal unity. As their time in the woods wears on, the pressures associated with conducting frequent midnight raids, occasional acts of retribution, and administering a starving populace, test their resilient characters, presenting them with unanticipated complications that only their continuing resistance can overcome.
Each brother finds their own path throughout Defiance's narrative. Tuvia is the head of the group and must make tough decisions to maintain a semblance of order. He butts heads with younger brother Zus who wants to fight more aggressively and consequently departs to join a group of Soviet militants. And youngest brother Asael contends with his timid character, rising above its natural inclinations to frequently engage in acts of heartfelt and painstaking heroism.
Their community grows and thrives throughout with intellectuals and a commitment to equality rounding out its social contours. Fighting against all odds, they dig in their heels and refuse to yield, all the while displaying the qualities of both consummate courage and gregarious, magnanimous, humanity.
Each brother finds their own path throughout Defiance's narrative. Tuvia is the head of the group and must make tough decisions to maintain a semblance of order. He butts heads with younger brother Zus who wants to fight more aggressively and consequently departs to join a group of Soviet militants. And youngest brother Asael contends with his timid character, rising above its natural inclinations to frequently engage in acts of heartfelt and painstaking heroism.
Their community grows and thrives throughout with intellectuals and a commitment to equality rounding out its social contours. Fighting against all odds, they dig in their heels and refuse to yield, all the while displaying the qualities of both consummate courage and gregarious, magnanimous, humanity.
Bear Trouble
Looks like the trusty garbage bin my family bought 7 years ago to keep our refuse safe from bear related mischief has finally been overturned. Yes, upon returning home this evening, our waste receptacle was upside down and located three feet away from its traditional perch, a bear having attacked it in its pursuit of nourishment. I hope this fucking bear realizes who he or she's dealing with, because I don't take lightly to my garbage being devoured recklessly by scurrilous beasts, even if they happen to be my favourite animal.
Bears.
Bears.
Friday the 13th
I am of the opinion that the new Friday the 13th flick Friday the 13th doesn't count. Marcus Nispel's film is a worthy addition to the franchise and Jason's (Derek Mears) unleashed fury is adorned with several new characteristics (marijuana growing?, kidnapping) (although the opening sequence drags on for far to long). But he's officially in space and overlooking this fact (and the great additions to the franchise it encourages) is not overcome by once again situating the narrative back at Crystal Lake Camp, planet Earth. They also don't explain why Trent (Travis Van Winkle) has been permitted to cottage next door to Jason's layer for his entire life without ever suffering any adverse affects. Back to space with Friday the 13th, back to space.
[True, Jason X doesn't really count either, but it gave the series a fresh scientific edge that refueled and reignited its mayhem, thereby enabling those dismissive of its non-linear content to provide it with the designation of counting. Jason is in space!]
[True, Jason X doesn't really count either, but it gave the series a fresh scientific edge that refueled and reignited its mayhem, thereby enabling those dismissive of its non-linear content to provide it with the designation of counting. Jason is in space!]
The Wrestler
Darren Aronofsky's The Wrestler poignantly and poetically presents a multidimensional portrait of a professional wrestler's undesired retirement. Randy "The Ram" Robinson (Mickey Rourke) lives life the hard way and when things come crashing down does his best to reign in that which he unfortunately let go during the more belligerent days of his career. Dashing dancer Cassidy (Marisa Tomei) and estranged daughter Stephanie (Evan Rachel Wood) do their best to help piece together the puzzle, but it's a heartbreakingly byzantine panorama requiring a sincerely dedicated degree of patience to comprehend.
The film's strong and Rourke's performance is my pick for Oscar's best actor of the year. The grainy shots and promotional poster credits establish a prominent yet passionately melancholic aesthetic that aptly reflects The Ram's troubles. And it hurts to see him go through it, a spur of the moment man crippled by the financial and humanistic consequences of responsibility. Things happen, not everyone can deal, and not everyone chooses a comfortable career with a pension, regular pay, and wide ranging benefits. The Ram's predicament generally functions as a representative of the aging economic other, the dedicated destitute artist doing what she or he can with what little he or she possesses to bring a bit more cheer to the members of her or his community. And each particular performance electrifies and holistically humanizes what it means to live according to your own individual rules with their own attendant predilections.
There are feelings and points of view that get lost in the rush as you travel from one dimension to another in order to reconstruct daily routines, get by, important pieces of your personal constitution that lie dormant in the unconscious waiting for a specific smell/game winning touchdown pass/deal breaking decision/surprise dinner/work of art to bring them back to life. And The Wrestler really made me feel a lot of the convictions that I had been simply thinking for who knows how long (providing them with an outlet to be revitalized) and that's just one of the reasons why I found it to be such an exceptional film.
Rourke's powerful portrayal of a dislodged, dominant demon, stalwart yet dainty, determined yet spellbound, vigorously demonstrates what it means to succeed while simultaneously pointing out the lesions of loss. Aronofsky once again provocatively illustrates his evocative chops, presenting another infinite requiem for a courageously clandestine character.
The film's strong and Rourke's performance is my pick for Oscar's best actor of the year. The grainy shots and promotional poster credits establish a prominent yet passionately melancholic aesthetic that aptly reflects The Ram's troubles. And it hurts to see him go through it, a spur of the moment man crippled by the financial and humanistic consequences of responsibility. Things happen, not everyone can deal, and not everyone chooses a comfortable career with a pension, regular pay, and wide ranging benefits. The Ram's predicament generally functions as a representative of the aging economic other, the dedicated destitute artist doing what she or he can with what little he or she possesses to bring a bit more cheer to the members of her or his community. And each particular performance electrifies and holistically humanizes what it means to live according to your own individual rules with their own attendant predilections.
There are feelings and points of view that get lost in the rush as you travel from one dimension to another in order to reconstruct daily routines, get by, important pieces of your personal constitution that lie dormant in the unconscious waiting for a specific smell/game winning touchdown pass/deal breaking decision/surprise dinner/work of art to bring them back to life. And The Wrestler really made me feel a lot of the convictions that I had been simply thinking for who knows how long (providing them with an outlet to be revitalized) and that's just one of the reasons why I found it to be such an exceptional film.
Rourke's powerful portrayal of a dislodged, dominant demon, stalwart yet dainty, determined yet spellbound, vigorously demonstrates what it means to succeed while simultaneously pointing out the lesions of loss. Aronofsky once again provocatively illustrates his evocative chops, presenting another infinite requiem for a courageously clandestine character.
Frost/Nixon
Ron Howard's Frost/Nixon closely follows the footsteps of Robert Altman's Secret Honor insofar as it presents a puzzlingly polite picture of the dastardly Richard Nixon (Frank Langella). Set up in a centrist style (whose mitigating factor is represented by the naive, dedicated and opportunistic David Frost [Michael Sheen]), Frost/Nixon chronicles a series of interviews conducted by Frost in the wake of Richard Nixon's unprecedented Presidential resignation. Sensationalized for sentiments sake, the right is represented by Nixon acolyte and Vietnam Vet Jack Brennan (Kevin Bacon) and the left by a solid team of researchers including James Reston Jr. (Sam Rockwell) and Bob Zelnick (Oliver Platt). Shot linearly but intercut with reality t.v. style reflections upon the events as they unravel, the film kaleidoscopically presents a variety of passionately opposing viewpoints regarding commitment, exposition, desire, and dogma, all the way to an intoxicating interrogation of one Richard Nixon.
Each performer is given their chance to shine: Platt humoursly delivers an intricate Nixon impersonation, Rockwell zealously critiques Frost for not leveling the same degree of ideological rigour, Bacon demonstrates unyielding support for his mentor, and Sheen gesticulates and genuflects his way through several different frenetic facial expressions. But they're all left in Langella's domineering dust as he stoically commands his realization of the role. The performance is strong, potentially best actor strong (although the competition's stellar). While he generally steals each scene, at one point, after delivering a semi-commercial speech at a relatively unimportant function, he particularly lets go of his characteristic resolve and enthusiastically laments his post-Presidential predicament, thereby unleashing a substantial degree of split-second emotion that elevates his performance to another level.
There's a lot more to Frost/Nixon than an interview between a struggling talk show host and an ex-President. It complicates and coruscates the Nixon phenomenon in a wizened well-rounded manner, all the while demonstrating the cultural pressures competently pursuing each combatant. The subtly ambiguous ending supports its centrist technique as well inasmuch as Frost clearly wins, thereby saluting the left, but his victory is set up in a black or white either/or opposition, thereby clearly saluting the right. Does this ending represent Howard's elevation of clandestine contradictions and the ways in which they convolute any attempts to uniformly delineate a point of view, and, by doing so, does the ending, like Nixon's thoughts regarding the responsibilities of the President, situate the film beyond good and evil?
I really don't know.
Each performer is given their chance to shine: Platt humoursly delivers an intricate Nixon impersonation, Rockwell zealously critiques Frost for not leveling the same degree of ideological rigour, Bacon demonstrates unyielding support for his mentor, and Sheen gesticulates and genuflects his way through several different frenetic facial expressions. But they're all left in Langella's domineering dust as he stoically commands his realization of the role. The performance is strong, potentially best actor strong (although the competition's stellar). While he generally steals each scene, at one point, after delivering a semi-commercial speech at a relatively unimportant function, he particularly lets go of his characteristic resolve and enthusiastically laments his post-Presidential predicament, thereby unleashing a substantial degree of split-second emotion that elevates his performance to another level.
There's a lot more to Frost/Nixon than an interview between a struggling talk show host and an ex-President. It complicates and coruscates the Nixon phenomenon in a wizened well-rounded manner, all the while demonstrating the cultural pressures competently pursuing each combatant. The subtly ambiguous ending supports its centrist technique as well inasmuch as Frost clearly wins, thereby saluting the left, but his victory is set up in a black or white either/or opposition, thereby clearly saluting the right. Does this ending represent Howard's elevation of clandestine contradictions and the ways in which they convolute any attempts to uniformly delineate a point of view, and, by doing so, does the ending, like Nixon's thoughts regarding the responsibilities of the President, situate the film beyond good and evil?
I really don't know.
The Reader
Throughout the first half of Stephan Daldry's The Reader, I couldn't figure why it's up for best picture until it hit me: it innocently and delicately establishes Hanna Schmitz's (Kate Winslet) and Michael Berg's (Ralph Fiennes, David Kross) affair before calmly and laconically bringing it to an end, all the while demonstrating the everlasting impression it's left on the elder Berg (who remembers the film in a series of extended flashbacks). Eventually, Schmitz is brought to trial for war crimes and Berg's law class must attend. As he watches her take the stand, his tender heart, full of pleasant and prominent memories of their fruitful time together, slowly and desperately bursts, as the extremely complicated nature of her trial's ethical/political dimension prevents him from presenting exonerating evidence. Afterwards, his guilt is extreme, and he expends an enormous amount of time doing what little he can to ease her life sentence.
The emotional impact is profound, suddenly pounding the audience with the affects of Berg's maturity and the crystallizing consequences of his insurmountable youthful passion, a recurrent moment of change, of becoming, solidified (thereby filmically capturing the passage from adolescence to adulthood, afterwards, the synchronous affects of an Event). He cannot overcome the lasting impression Hanna's ingenuous (yet naively brutal considering) soul has left upon his own and struggles with its agonizing influence for the rest of his days, love's torrentially tenacious (and eternal) nascence and mortality continually haunting his soul, a robust gentle diamond, shattered, constantly attempting its reconstitution. Nothing else really stood out from the film for me, similar to both The Deer Hunter and A Woman Under the Influence in form, a possible challenge to Slumdog Millionaire for best picture, unforgivably unforgettable.
The emotional impact is profound, suddenly pounding the audience with the affects of Berg's maturity and the crystallizing consequences of his insurmountable youthful passion, a recurrent moment of change, of becoming, solidified (thereby filmically capturing the passage from adolescence to adulthood, afterwards, the synchronous affects of an Event). He cannot overcome the lasting impression Hanna's ingenuous (yet naively brutal considering) soul has left upon his own and struggles with its agonizing influence for the rest of his days, love's torrentially tenacious (and eternal) nascence and mortality continually haunting his soul, a robust gentle diamond, shattered, constantly attempting its reconstitution. Nothing else really stood out from the film for me, similar to both The Deer Hunter and A Woman Under the Influence in form, a possible challenge to Slumdog Millionaire for best picture, unforgivably unforgettable.
Rare Meat
Might not have a house, or any savings, or a car, or a partner, but I did manage to consume 36 oz's of rare meat in the last 72 hours. A monstrous 24 oz porterhouse steak cooked in a whiskey peppercorn sauce and a delicious piece of 12 oz elk covered in a Saskatoon berry reduction. Seriously yummy.
Milk
Gus Van Sant's Milk presents a beautiful biographical portrait of an extremely brave human being, Harvey Milk. Dynamically portrayed by Sean Penn, Milk overcomes his generally timorous disposition and navigates his way up an extremely steep political hill to become the United States's first openly gay politician. Then, possessing a resolve which never lets up and quickly learns the ins and outs of being a San Francisco City Supervisor, he fights against a movement to have homosexual teachers removed from public schools as well as a homophobic campaign led by singer Anita Bryant (archival footage). His character is molded by an unyielding desire to face his fears head on, keeping physical reminders of their content posted upon his fridge, refusing to move his camera shop from a neighbourhood that is initially hostile, and continuing to seek election after being defeated several times. However, his success incites the hatred of fellow City Supervisor Dan White (Josh Brolin), who murders both Milk and Mayor George Moscone (Victor Garber) after hastily resigning from public office. There's an exceptional shot that may win Van Sant the oscar for director of the year as well, that being a whistle lying on the ground upon which Milk can be seen conversing with a police officer. Whistles were used by members of the gay community to sound an alarm if they were being attacked. During the 70s in the Castro district of San Francisco, it didn't always work.
Bear in the Woods
Tonight I received a ride home from work to my country lodge and was let out at the road two minutes away from my destination. As soon as I popped out of the back of the pickup (after having drank 3 tasty Muskoka Cream Ales) I heard a sincere rustling in the woods directly in front of me. The pickup had sped away and I was left alone to determine what beast lie in wait in the surrounding forest. And it must have been either a deer or a bear: there's no way a frickin' raccoon can make that much noise (and they usually run up trees anyways). I had to decide whether or not to walk home or take the safest route and proceed to my friend's in case the potential bear proved to be vicious. But bear's are usually pretty cool (eating vegetarian related items primarily) so I waited for the noise to disappear before taking a shortcut home.
Bears.
Bears.
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
David Fincher's adaptation of F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Curious Case of Benjamin Button chronicles the life of its title's hero (Brad Pitt), born an old man who grows younger as he ages. Throughout his travels, he meets many a quirky character with an idiosyncratic tale to tell, including an artist (who dies with cigar in mouth [Captain Mike played by Jared Harris]) and a sirenic swimmer who tenaciously challenges the English Channel (Elizabeth Abbot played by Tilda Swinton). These minor characters leave major impressions on both the film's and Benjamin's personality ("it's funny how sometimes the people we remember the least make the greatest impression"), placing this curious case in the realm of other magically realistic narratives such as Forrest Gump, Big Fish, and The Princess Bride. Benjamin's innocent love for childhood sweetheart Daisy (Cate Blanchett) parallels that cultivated by the heroes of these films as well, and as their roundabout romance ties together each successive movement, we're left to examine the alimentary affects which valedictory events have on the development of an individual.
Benjamin doesn't spend much time moralizing about right and wrong or the difference between the correct way and the highway. Instead, it elevates happenstance and making the most of what you have, much to its credit. One theme which reverberates throughout emphasizes that it's "not about how well you play, it's about how you feel about what you play," a theme which encourages and applauds disenfranchised forms of artistic expression, while coincidentally displaying them all the while. It also provides several neat little particular tidbits of avuncular advice for puzzling situations that arise throughout life, such as the three rules for Benjamin's first love affair (never look at me during the day, always part before sunrise, and never say I love you) amongst others.
While I found The Curious Case to follow Forrest Gump's heels far to closely, providing a sedately sensational story that left little room for outstanding acting, it's certainly multidimensional enough to inspire myriad interpretations depending upon the disposition of the viewer in question. And it's romantic and fun. Probably not Oscar's choice for best picture of the year, but it's worth checking out if you like films that present profiles of charismatic offbeat people in a fantastically realistic fashion. In tune, in touch, quite different from the other Fincher films I've seen, Benjamin's buttons are sewn on tight with a sentimental style that's laid out just right.
Benjamin doesn't spend much time moralizing about right and wrong or the difference between the correct way and the highway. Instead, it elevates happenstance and making the most of what you have, much to its credit. One theme which reverberates throughout emphasizes that it's "not about how well you play, it's about how you feel about what you play," a theme which encourages and applauds disenfranchised forms of artistic expression, while coincidentally displaying them all the while. It also provides several neat little particular tidbits of avuncular advice for puzzling situations that arise throughout life, such as the three rules for Benjamin's first love affair (never look at me during the day, always part before sunrise, and never say I love you) amongst others.
While I found The Curious Case to follow Forrest Gump's heels far to closely, providing a sedately sensational story that left little room for outstanding acting, it's certainly multidimensional enough to inspire myriad interpretations depending upon the disposition of the viewer in question. And it's romantic and fun. Probably not Oscar's choice for best picture of the year, but it's worth checking out if you like films that present profiles of charismatic offbeat people in a fantastically realistic fashion. In tune, in touch, quite different from the other Fincher films I've seen, Benjamin's buttons are sewn on tight with a sentimental style that's laid out just right.
Zelig
Zelig, Zelig, Zelig: just who the hell is Woody Allen's Zelig? In every situation he physically, mentally, and spiritually adjusts to become one with his interlocutors, and there's nothing he can't learn, stomach, or do. His story inspires songs, advertisements, sensations, newsreels, critical and commercial interpretations, parades, biographical imitations. There's a wealth of tightly edited picturesquely paced material reminiscent of Citizen Kane and formically linked to any Wes Anderson film. His doctor does her best to establish an I but as he moves from congenial agreement to aggressive confrontation similar situations and age-old psychological adversaries arise. Playing baseball, writing academic essays, acting, golf, Zelig moves and grooves with the rest of the 'em all the way to an hilariously restructured resolution, creatively and comedically cast with the most intertextual of designs in mind.
As an artist, you need to be ready to take absurd risks, full of potentially disastrous consequences, in order to cultivate your mischievous craft as you proudly and miserably suffer in their convoluted aftermaths (depending upon how much you've been drinking), the greatest risk being to take no risk at all.
Shock
Whenever I hear what President Obama's up to I keep thinking damn they need to elect him to the office of President of the United States.
Mind boggling.
Mind boggling.
Slumdog Millionaire
Trainspotting's Danny Boyle's at his best in Slumdog Millionaire, a romantic tale of a virtuous individual's shot at the big time. Jamal Malik (Dev Patel, Tanah Chheda, Ayush Mahesh Khedekar) grew up in the slums where he learned the hard way how to cope with life's injustices. Full of working class grit and tenacity, Malik boldly navigates his culture's rigid social rapids and hard-boiled ethical hardships, taking lumps and lashes all the way to a miraculous appearance on "Who Wants to be a Millionaire?" His success leads to accusations of foul play and the film unreels in a series of flashbacks as the authorities harshly interrogate the legitimacy of his answers (the present requires the past to have a chance for the future). But for each and every question posed there's a personal anecdote that upholds both the veracity of his choices and the integrity of his disenfranchised education.
Malik's set up in opposition to his older brother Salim (Madhur Mittal, Ashutosh Lobo Gajiwala, Azharuddin Mohammed Ismail) who makes his way with a gun rather than his mind. In the film's ending, as Malik searches for the answer to the 20 million rupee question, Salim is shot in a bathtub full of cash, Boyle's narrative championing the individual who chose life as opposed to death to earn his living (the resolution's a little too melodramatic but whatever). However, in the end this dimension is ambiguously challenged by the unveiling of the correct answer to the question posed at the film's beginning, a challenge which problematizes his victory while simultaneously making it all the more emphatic (time, space, and the ideological chase).
Slumdog's pacing reflects the different stages of Malik's development insofar as his youth is filled with quickly moving scenes which capture life's enraptured rush and things begin to slow down as he gradually matures. An early scene poignantly points out precisely how resolute Malik is when it comes to achieving his goals as well as the enormous obstacles standing in his way. It's fun to sit back and watch as he heroically hustles and shuffles his way through life, constantly contending and coordinating with foes and friends respectively, his spirit always aware of each situation's final answer.
Malik's set up in opposition to his older brother Salim (Madhur Mittal, Ashutosh Lobo Gajiwala, Azharuddin Mohammed Ismail) who makes his way with a gun rather than his mind. In the film's ending, as Malik searches for the answer to the 20 million rupee question, Salim is shot in a bathtub full of cash, Boyle's narrative championing the individual who chose life as opposed to death to earn his living (the resolution's a little too melodramatic but whatever). However, in the end this dimension is ambiguously challenged by the unveiling of the correct answer to the question posed at the film's beginning, a challenge which problematizes his victory while simultaneously making it all the more emphatic (time, space, and the ideological chase).
Slumdog's pacing reflects the different stages of Malik's development insofar as his youth is filled with quickly moving scenes which capture life's enraptured rush and things begin to slow down as he gradually matures. An early scene poignantly points out precisely how resolute Malik is when it comes to achieving his goals as well as the enormous obstacles standing in his way. It's fun to sit back and watch as he heroically hustles and shuffles his way through life, constantly contending and coordinating with foes and friends respectively, his spirit always aware of each situation's final answer.
Showcase Cinema 6 Closes Down
Sadly, Burlington's Showcase Cinema 6 has shut down. Throughout the winter, I found that they played the best selection of films in the Greater Hamilton Region and it's a shame they will no longer continue to do so.
Twilight
Catherine Hardwicke's new teenybopper flick Twilight explores the hearty hardline separating vampires and their human counterparts. Human Bella Swan (Kristen Stewart) moves from Phoenix to the small town of Forks, Washington, to live with her father (Billy Burke as Charlie Swan) and resume her studies. But Bella wasn't counting on meeting Edward Cullen (Robert Pattinson), a member of a local family of vampires who denies their natural thirst for human blood and feast upon animals instead (and also enjoy playing baseball). Their ferociously subdued romance turns heads and homesteads as members of the Native community (descended from wolves according to legend and wary of the Cullens) keep a sharp watch on Edward (whose family is supportively patronizing). Their foes are many and their attachment precarious but these streams still cross affectively, aptly demonstrating the illustrious intrigue engendered by a star-crossed couple unafraid to unleash their picturesque passion.
Thereby defeating Gozer.
Definitely the most romantic vampire film I've seen, Twilight's easy going slow moving pacing is problematically perforated by the introduction of villains. S'pose some kind of overt conflict's to be expected in a vampire flick, and it was made for a younger audience, but removing the formulaic evil presence (clearly included for the males of the species) and investigating the covert cultural pressures more sanguinely would have enhanced Twilight's clandestine charm, thereby structurally reflecting the sun's scintillating effects upon the Cullen's skin. Rich in bucolic beauty, drenched in kitschy sophomoric artistry, Twilight magnifies the lengthy measures a coruscating couple must resiliently recite, while wisely suggesting that it's worth it.
Thereby defeating Gozer.
Definitely the most romantic vampire film I've seen, Twilight's easy going slow moving pacing is problematically perforated by the introduction of villains. S'pose some kind of overt conflict's to be expected in a vampire flick, and it was made for a younger audience, but removing the formulaic evil presence (clearly included for the males of the species) and investigating the covert cultural pressures more sanguinely would have enhanced Twilight's clandestine charm, thereby structurally reflecting the sun's scintillating effects upon the Cullen's skin. Rich in bucolic beauty, drenched in kitschy sophomoric artistry, Twilight magnifies the lengthy measures a coruscating couple must resiliently recite, while wisely suggesting that it's worth it.
Coalition to Keep Canadian Heritage Support for Literary and Arts Magazines
Below is the description of a Facebook group I just joined called Coalition to Keep Canadian Heritage Support for Literary and Arts Magazines. Worth checking out (contact info: art.lit.coalition@gmail.com).
Canadian literary and arts magazines publishing in either English and French are in danger of losing a key federal funding source.
On February 17, 2009, Canadian Heritage Minister James Moore announced in a speech he made in Montreal that the Canada Magazine Fund and Publishing Assistance Program will be merged to create the Canada Periodical Fund. Initiatives from this new body will come on stream in 2010.
Departing from his prepared remarks, James Moore indicated that eligibility for funding could potentially be restricted to those magazines with an annual circulation above 5000. With notable exceptions, the circulation of virtually every Canadian literary and arts magazine, large and small, is below 5000.
We have to make sure this possibility does not become an actuality, for if it does, as April 1, 2010, these important and praiseworthy magazines will no longer qualify for funding that they have been receiving for years from the CMF and PAP despite the excellent work that they undertake for the readers and writers across Canada (and around the world)!
The Coalition to Keep Canadian Heritage Support for Literary and Arts Magazine feels strongly that to render these magazines ineligible for this support would be unjust. To quote Andris Taskans, editor of Prairie Fire, to do so would be "a slap in the face"---not only to the magazines themselves but to the many writers that they publish, many of whom began illustrious, international careers in these seminal if modest publcations. To do so would also be a "slap in the face" to the ordinary (and extraordinary) Canadians who read them.
By joining the Coalition, readers and writers everywhere send a strong message to the Honorable James Moore, the Department of Canadian Heritage, and the Canada Periodical Fund that we believe in our literary and arts magazines and feel that they should continue to do so by supporting them through well-deserved and sustained financial support.
To do so, would be the cheapest economic stimulus package the Government of Canada could initiate. Every single dollar granted to us or paid to us by a subscriber or a newsstand buyer goes back into the economy.
Put it this way, when Canadians get into their Chrysler and GM cars, they have to drive somewhere. A lot of them drive to their newsstands and bookstores to buy a literary or arts magazine.
Say yes to continued Canadian Heritage funding through the Canada Periodical Fund for Canada's arts and literary magazines!
Say yes to the writers and readers of Canada!
For more details about these potential funding cuts, read coverage that appeared on the Quill & Quire website on February 20 and 24, 2009 (scroll through the news section to read both stories):
Quill and Quire
Canadian literary and arts magazines publishing in either English and French are in danger of losing a key federal funding source.
On February 17, 2009, Canadian Heritage Minister James Moore announced in a speech he made in Montreal that the Canada Magazine Fund and Publishing Assistance Program will be merged to create the Canada Periodical Fund. Initiatives from this new body will come on stream in 2010.
Departing from his prepared remarks, James Moore indicated that eligibility for funding could potentially be restricted to those magazines with an annual circulation above 5000. With notable exceptions, the circulation of virtually every Canadian literary and arts magazine, large and small, is below 5000.
We have to make sure this possibility does not become an actuality, for if it does, as April 1, 2010, these important and praiseworthy magazines will no longer qualify for funding that they have been receiving for years from the CMF and PAP despite the excellent work that they undertake for the readers and writers across Canada (and around the world)!
The Coalition to Keep Canadian Heritage Support for Literary and Arts Magazine feels strongly that to render these magazines ineligible for this support would be unjust. To quote Andris Taskans, editor of Prairie Fire, to do so would be "a slap in the face"---not only to the magazines themselves but to the many writers that they publish, many of whom began illustrious, international careers in these seminal if modest publcations. To do so would also be a "slap in the face" to the ordinary (and extraordinary) Canadians who read them.
By joining the Coalition, readers and writers everywhere send a strong message to the Honorable James Moore, the Department of Canadian Heritage, and the Canada Periodical Fund that we believe in our literary and arts magazines and feel that they should continue to do so by supporting them through well-deserved and sustained financial support.
To do so, would be the cheapest economic stimulus package the Government of Canada could initiate. Every single dollar granted to us or paid to us by a subscriber or a newsstand buyer goes back into the economy.
Put it this way, when Canadians get into their Chrysler and GM cars, they have to drive somewhere. A lot of them drive to their newsstands and bookstores to buy a literary or arts magazine.
Say yes to continued Canadian Heritage funding through the Canada Periodical Fund for Canada's arts and literary magazines!
Say yes to the writers and readers of Canada!
For more details about these potential funding cuts, read coverage that appeared on the Quill & Quire website on February 20 and 24, 2009 (scroll through the news section to read both stories):
Quill and Quire
Seven Pounds
Seven Pounds is a touching examination of the human condition. Gabriele Muccino's text speeds things up and then flattens them out in order to capture the tenderly mysterious movements of a couple falling in love. It's a film about loss as much as it is about sacrifice and Ben Thomas (Will Smith) does his best to make the most of a dire situation. Both tragic and romantic (with Woody Harrelson demonstrating unprecedented emotional depth), Seven Pounds isolates an excruciatingly painful kernel of life and gently transmits it from dimension to another.
As I congratulated myself for not throwing the end of the milk bag I had just cut onto the floor or into the sink, gently placing it within the trash receptacle, I realized that I was noticing something that probably shouldn't warrant conscious thought or awareness, and wished that the floor or sink options would suddenly disappear, although, I recycle everything I can (including empty match books), meaning that perhaps such careless ends represent a docile distraction, the excessive runoff from my generally neat and tidy ways, demanding itself be heard, noticed, delineated.
There was a motion leading up to a point qualified by a statement wrapped up in a rhetorical bouquet. I feverishly sipped my coffee. A rebuttal announced, predicated upon an insightful indictment of a redolent clause whose fragrance was weeping. Too much cream, not enough sugar. They eventually congratulated each other on their mutual and successful investments although the decor contradicted their resolution (it was far to pretentious). Wound up, nowhere to go, fueled, no work. In one week I would do something possibly, get up and go begotten secured sedated. To break, to find work that actually corresponded to my education, on the bus for a trip, to a plane to look out the window and there's the sun above the clouds shining forth its rays. The wheels going round the wings whipped and weathered. For less cream, more sugar I waited for something less melodramatic, for a plume and a slice of pineapple, written upside down on the ceiling, revved up and ready. Should the legislature stop working for the banking industry itself? Is this salmon organic? How far could I travel down the St. Lawrence on an inner-tube? What would Proust have done?
Proust would have been writing exceptional prose, building a literary legion of liaisons into a lavender scented locket locked tight; that's what he would have done but better than that, in medium and super, they're reading it and you've told no one and have nothing to say. Just pointing out on Steph's behalf that people have been murdered for less. Find the stream, pick it up again, wine and dine, wag your tongue, blow them kisses. It's like a nap, one piece at a time, moving on, moving on, moving. Towards something leisurely and light, stamped, approved, positioned. For dessert there's chocolate mousse. Predictable, pocketed, pristine. The artistic pickpocket steals your wallet and then finds a way to return it cashless by the end of the hour. Don't know why she or he does this. Can't figure it out.
Proust would have been writing exceptional prose, building a literary legion of liaisons into a lavender scented locket locked tight; that's what he would have done but better than that, in medium and super, they're reading it and you've told no one and have nothing to say. Just pointing out on Steph's behalf that people have been murdered for less. Find the stream, pick it up again, wine and dine, wag your tongue, blow them kisses. It's like a nap, one piece at a time, moving on, moving on, moving. Towards something leisurely and light, stamped, approved, positioned. For dessert there's chocolate mousse. Predictable, pocketed, pristine. The artistic pickpocket steals your wallet and then finds a way to return it cashless by the end of the hour. Don't know why she or he does this. Can't figure it out.
Yes Man
Peyton Reed's Yes Man depicts Carl Allen (Jim Carrey) as a reclusive non-committal introvert who retired from social life after the break up of his first marriage. Fortunately, he meets Nick (John Michael Higgins), a 'yes man' who subscribes to Terrence Bundley's (Terence Stamp) cult of the 'yes,' whose members say yes to everything in order to invigorate their lives. Carl reluctantly joins and discovers that life can be more exciting if one opens their mind to limitless possibility. But the excitement is countered by responsibility and the contradictions eventually engender a cathartic crisis.
Reed's comedy mixes reality and fantasy in a simplified narrative layered with internal complexities. Obviously saying yes to everything causes all kinds of problems many of which are absurd yet concretely founded. He didn't have to accept an international pseudo-bride, he could have said no to an alley fight, and there was no need to start learning another language (although he picks it up in something like three weeks). But by opening his mind to these opportunities, he learns when to say yes and when to say no, making several new friends, and beginning a relationship with the quirky musician Allison (Zooey Deschanel).
It's like Groundhog Day meets Along Came Polly while listening to 54-40. Solid performances from the cast congeal with the perspicuous pacing to present a fun romantic comedy wherein the cynic turns affably stoic through ironic hedonism. Jim Carrey's solid and competently demonstrates a wide range of emotion while still providing glimpses of his subdued chaotic sprightliness. Some of the situations don't make much sense, and certain scenes could have been cut to the improvement of others, but the overall affect is uplifting and aptly demonstrates the brighter side of life.
Reed's comedy mixes reality and fantasy in a simplified narrative layered with internal complexities. Obviously saying yes to everything causes all kinds of problems many of which are absurd yet concretely founded. He didn't have to accept an international pseudo-bride, he could have said no to an alley fight, and there was no need to start learning another language (although he picks it up in something like three weeks). But by opening his mind to these opportunities, he learns when to say yes and when to say no, making several new friends, and beginning a relationship with the quirky musician Allison (Zooey Deschanel).
It's like Groundhog Day meets Along Came Polly while listening to 54-40. Solid performances from the cast congeal with the perspicuous pacing to present a fun romantic comedy wherein the cynic turns affably stoic through ironic hedonism. Jim Carrey's solid and competently demonstrates a wide range of emotion while still providing glimpses of his subdued chaotic sprightliness. Some of the situations don't make much sense, and certain scenes could have been cut to the improvement of others, but the overall affect is uplifting and aptly demonstrates the brighter side of life.
Was working in a remote location when I spotted him. Couldn't believe it was him, had to ask him to make sure even though it was obvious. The odd thing was that he was reading the novel version of the film I had just rented, meaning that we had, against all odds, met in the middle of nowhere while consuming different versions of the same narrative.
There was a formica table and a counter beneath some cupboards within which rested a bottle of Jägermeister and three zig-zagged martini glasses beside a jar of olives. Needed a toothpick. The tap was running in order to fill a glass of water. When ice was dropped in it crackled and after three deep breaths the temperature was subdued. A truck full of odds and ends swept up and loaded drove by with one broken headlight and a sign reading Christies on the door. I was paying attention attentively. School's different when you're older, lots of things are. People with families, responsibilities, they're lucky. I tripped on my boots and spilt my glass on the floor as my shoulder collided with a shelf containing a variety of books concerning psychology and literature. I'd read them awhile back. They hit the floor too and I grabbed a pillow to mop up the stain, then rest. Odd noise outside, sounded like the opening pitch of an orchestra but was just the snowplow's siren; even the snowplows sounded symphonic. Confusion was reigning so I laid my head on the pillow to remain alert and began reading Hawthorne's Disengaged Dismemberment before falling asleep. Woke up and thought I was sweating.
The Day the Earth Stood Still
The latest version of The Day the Earth Stood Still (directed by Scott Derrickson) sees Keanu Reeves (as Klaatu the alien) not trying to save humanity but destroy it. Aliens have decided that the Earth must be saved from us humans and our destructive ways since their statistics state that only a scant number of planets possess the qualities necessary to sustain life (and their projections indicate that life upon ours is irrevocably suffocating). Klaatu attempts to reason with Presidential Representative Regina Jackson (Kathy Bates) but she ain't listenin' to no alien (and neither is the President who never shows up even when the situation becomes catastrophic [a critical chide at George W.'s political awareness]). Consequently, he decides the planet must be terminated but fortunately for Earth's residents determined scientist Helen Benson (Jennifer Connelly) has just enough yip to contradict his forthright yap.
The film's not the greatest. Its format is sound and it unravels in a mildly entertaining fashion but there's no paprika in this bowl of chili and Connelly's good looks don't make up for the lack of structural subtlety (they are constantly highlighted). The actors portray their characters well but David Scarpa and Edmund H. North's by-the-book script leaves them little room to radiate (note James Hong's [Big Trouble in Little China] heartfelt cameo as Dr. Wu however). I liked how the alien 'robot' unleashes his plague nevertheless: army personnel hack away at his almost impregnable frame and sever a piece from which a nest of exponentially expanding synthetic insects lunge and swarm (a warning to volatile insurgents launching attacks against foes possessing significant militaristic advantages). But I was checking my watch when I should have been analyzing, sipping my cola when I could have been critiquing, shifting out of focus where I was supposed to be zooming in, having a seriously difficult time sitting still.
The film's not the greatest. Its format is sound and it unravels in a mildly entertaining fashion but there's no paprika in this bowl of chili and Connelly's good looks don't make up for the lack of structural subtlety (they are constantly highlighted). The actors portray their characters well but David Scarpa and Edmund H. North's by-the-book script leaves them little room to radiate (note James Hong's [Big Trouble in Little China] heartfelt cameo as Dr. Wu however). I liked how the alien 'robot' unleashes his plague nevertheless: army personnel hack away at his almost impregnable frame and sever a piece from which a nest of exponentially expanding synthetic insects lunge and swarm (a warning to volatile insurgents launching attacks against foes possessing significant militaristic advantages). But I was checking my watch when I should have been analyzing, sipping my cola when I could have been critiquing, shifting out of focus where I was supposed to be zooming in, having a seriously difficult time sitting still.
Glasses Wearin' Girls
Glasses wearin' girls
are hot because the
sun shines through
their glasses, heating
them up, making them
more hot. Shine forth
your sun beams thou
generator of heat and
heat up the hotness of
glasses wearin' girls,
everywhere.
are hot because the
sun shines through
their glasses, heating
them up, making them
more hot. Shine forth
your sun beams thou
generator of heat and
heat up the hotness of
glasses wearin' girls,
everywhere.
Up the Yangtze
Yung Chang's Up the Yangtze examines the genesis of the Three Gorges Dam within China and its affects upon a family and various citizens. The ways in which the dam's ethical ends are contradicted by its constructed means are prominently highlighted as the not-so-well-off are bullied and forced to move without compensation. These bullies are contrasted by the administrators of a tourist organization who dismiss an employee for only looking out for himself, perhaps suggesting that only those in positions of power have the wherewithal to define. The cross-section of tourists presented is juxtaposed with the plight of the common people as they travel the catered results of a modern engineering marvel while searching for signs of ancient traditions. A well executed profound documentary which provides an insightful glimpse into the tectonic realm of the human factor, Up the Yangtze challenges the designers and implementors of massive public works projects to remember the present needs of their future benefactors while also illustrating the virtues of a social safety net.
Camp
And it crackled, distillated, kerplunked, exchanging distinct glows for prescient glances of some long forgotten intuition coaxed from a moment of revelation, guiding, highlighting, sitting. There. Glaring at the wood while it burns, burns bright, and the ashes and the coals drifting and shifting through the night, dispersed, integral. The heat like hearts and healing, pumping, congealing work and relaxation on a smooth white pine stump, next to a fallen log and a reclining furrow built into the landscape. Constantly changing shape yet stable, there, its affects fleetingly permanent, revitalized, and demanding, ensconced in their flaming bower, igniting seclusion and sequestering warmth. A sweater and a jacket drying out by the North-Eastern slabs, a pair of jeans on the ground (for it had been raining earlier). The odd owl heard a hooting along with snapping, moonlit sounds. And some beers.
Don't like how Chavez changed the rules in Venezuela's electoral system so that he can be elected indefinitely. Seems like he should be building a party not a cult of personality. And socialism without capitalism doesn't work just like capitalism without socialism doesn't work. I love and admire what Chavez has done to establish universal health care and education in Venezuela but think that these institutions would be even more prominently upheld if he had ended his tenure and been replaced by a worthy successor.
Now, assume evolution is a slow process of gradual change wherein technological progress and new artistic and scientific developments propel us closer to being pure thinking intertwined energy, one gradual step at a time. The internet's a huge step in this process, biggest thing since Darwin or Stephan Hawking. If these steps are leading to pure thinking energy, then it makes sense that the physical world is part of a larger computer program that we are currently living in as designed by some other being (a Q or something), our discovery of the internet reflecting this greater reality. Taking care of the environment therefore reduces the number of viruses running in our program and ensures its smooth functioning. Trying to design matrixes for our own survival (the Green Shift etc.) while being aware that we're part of another matrix designed by omnipotent somethings whose test is to encourage us to understand that we're part of its matrix while doing our best to maintain it as we slowly unravel its intricacies and promote pseudo-egalitarian understanding could be the task leading to pure thinking energy.
Kung Fu Panda
Mark Osborne and John Stevenson's Kung Fu Panda kicks and chops and punches and blocks to the tune of the traditional comedic structure. Within we have Po (Jack Black), a tenderly rowdy Panda who dreams of becoming a revered warrior but spends his days working for his father as a culinary jack of all trades. A group of kung fu warriors lives on the mountain above and one day Master Oogway (Randall Duk Kim) has a vision that villain (and former student) Tai Lung (Ian McShane) will escape from prison (which holds 1000 guards exclusively for him), unleashing an unforgiving campaign of torment in his pursuit of the Dragon Scroll. To counter, he believes that the Dragon Warrior must be chosen and trained for it is predicted that only her or his power will be strong enough to overcome Tai Lung's. Through serendipitous circumstances, Po is chosen to be said Dragon Warrior although Master Shifu (Dustin Hoffman) holds sincere reservations. His training begins none to soon for after Tai Lung breaks free from his chains and defeats the Furious Five, only Po's ingenuous determination can save the citizens of Peace Valley below.
The film's funny and smart, its comedic timing stylistically aligned with its animated martial arts sequences. The structure's a bit haywire, however, which led to a bit of a crisis insofar as I was initially expecting a specific pattern which didn't coalesce yet was still disappointed with the unexpected results (what I was expecting would have required an additional 20 to 30 minutes which likely explains why it was cut). The problem lies with the Dragon Scroll. The Dragon Scroll can only be read by the Dragon Warrior yet when Po reads it he has not attained the heights of Dragon Warriosity. The Dragon Scroll holds the secrets to unlimited power and it makes more sense that the chosen one would refuse its gift, finding personal strength in the acknowledgements of their limitations (and the maintenance of the legend which supports them). Po certainly doesn't want to read it but he does much to the fury of rival Tai Lung. Tai Lung and Po both have father figures and their relationships are established in opposition: while Po generally supports his father, Tai Lung viciously subverts his. Due to Po's support, his father rewards him by letting him know his soup's secret ingredient; Tai Lung receives no such knowledge. That very same secret ingredient provides Po with the wisdom required to understand the Dragon Scroll and suddenly become a hero, even though he should have never been given the damn Scroll, but, in the tradition of Richard Lester's Superman II we find a hero that's just plain and simply a go**-d*&^ hero once she or he realizes it.
And then they kick ass (although it's unlikely that afterwards Po lives for an entire year off only the dew from one ginkgo biloba leaf and the energy of the universe).
The film's funny and smart, its comedic timing stylistically aligned with its animated martial arts sequences. The structure's a bit haywire, however, which led to a bit of a crisis insofar as I was initially expecting a specific pattern which didn't coalesce yet was still disappointed with the unexpected results (what I was expecting would have required an additional 20 to 30 minutes which likely explains why it was cut). The problem lies with the Dragon Scroll. The Dragon Scroll can only be read by the Dragon Warrior yet when Po reads it he has not attained the heights of Dragon Warriosity. The Dragon Scroll holds the secrets to unlimited power and it makes more sense that the chosen one would refuse its gift, finding personal strength in the acknowledgements of their limitations (and the maintenance of the legend which supports them). Po certainly doesn't want to read it but he does much to the fury of rival Tai Lung. Tai Lung and Po both have father figures and their relationships are established in opposition: while Po generally supports his father, Tai Lung viciously subverts his. Due to Po's support, his father rewards him by letting him know his soup's secret ingredient; Tai Lung receives no such knowledge. That very same secret ingredient provides Po with the wisdom required to understand the Dragon Scroll and suddenly become a hero, even though he should have never been given the damn Scroll, but, in the tradition of Richard Lester's Superman II we find a hero that's just plain and simply a go**-d*&^ hero once she or he realizes it.
And then they kick ass (although it's unlikely that afterwards Po lives for an entire year off only the dew from one ginkgo biloba leaf and the energy of the universe).
Human Rights Activist and member of Women of Zimbabwe Arise Jestina Mukoko remains in prison in Zimbabwe. This petition for Secretary of State Hilary Clinton seeks 1000 signatures to assist imprisoned Human Rights Activists in Zimbabwe as well as their families.
Brief Regarding a Report from "Investigating the Surstrata"
In between each of the surstrata's layers lies an attentive span with its own peculiar method of inspection, the likes of which our researchers are continually trying to comprehend. We make no light stipulations concerning each of the subsequent determinations we've brought about in accordance with their interstellar regulations and can only be held accountable for the variable impressions we've made regarding the bounty of this substantial manifest.
Trouble in the Democratic Republic of Congo
Take Action Now to stop violence against women in the Congo.
Power to women and girls of the Democratic Republic of Congo.
Power to women and girls of the Democratic Republic of Congo.
Solaris
Andrei Tarkovsky's Solaris depicts the lives of three scientists tasked with making first contact with an alien being. The alien is a conscious planet who manifests itself to their eyes in the form of a viscid sea. As they conduct several experiments to establish a dialogue the entity responds by replicating their worst fears and bringing them to life. Psychologist Kris Kelvin (Donatas Banionis) sees the reincarnation of his former lover Hari (Natalya Bondarchuk) presented idyllically. His first reaction is to kill the alien but she keeps returning. Her mortal death was caused by suicide and after Kelvin grows fond of her and she realizes she is not human, she consistently attempts suicide (slowly and painfully regaining consciousness each time) and his mortality fades away. The other scientists hide their horlas more cleverly and see their new companions as necessary torments or laboratory specimens. The omniscient sea flows beneath, eternally evanescent yet demanding and domineering.
The film can be viewed several ways. As one attempts to define God they are confronted with the deepest desires of their human heart as they realize their mortal shortcomings. In order to delineate the new one cannot avoid the pressures of the past. Some mysteries are best left unsolved as their unravelling unleashes compatriot enigmas. To understand the other one must understand themself and such understanding can be neither a walk on the beach nor a drive through the country. It took millennia before humankind invented the automobile.
The romantic Dr. Snaut (Jüri Järvet) turns materialist and believes the alien must be destroyed, having lost faith in the pursuits of his mission (and grown tired of the presence of his demons). Pragmatic Dr. Sartorius (Anatoli Solonitsyn) detaches himself completely as he conducts his callous yet shrewd research. But the psychologist, whose intellectual pursuits concern the human condition, becomes lost in the void as he cannot come to terms with the role he played in Hari's death, her innocence and beauty constantly encouraging madness as he confronts a representative of his life work's failure (while his thesis concerning the human condition was published his lover perished).
To understand that which cannot be comprehended is somewhat difficult and the alien from Solaris seems to be saying quit worrying about me and start concerning yourselves with each other. But the ambiguous ending suggests that the few possessing the tenacity to confront themselves should reasonably consider such quests, although in their pursuit they may become lost in the imagination as they attempt to quantify the unqualifiable.
The film can be viewed several ways. As one attempts to define God they are confronted with the deepest desires of their human heart as they realize their mortal shortcomings. In order to delineate the new one cannot avoid the pressures of the past. Some mysteries are best left unsolved as their unravelling unleashes compatriot enigmas. To understand the other one must understand themself and such understanding can be neither a walk on the beach nor a drive through the country. It took millennia before humankind invented the automobile.
The romantic Dr. Snaut (Jüri Järvet) turns materialist and believes the alien must be destroyed, having lost faith in the pursuits of his mission (and grown tired of the presence of his demons). Pragmatic Dr. Sartorius (Anatoli Solonitsyn) detaches himself completely as he conducts his callous yet shrewd research. But the psychologist, whose intellectual pursuits concern the human condition, becomes lost in the void as he cannot come to terms with the role he played in Hari's death, her innocence and beauty constantly encouraging madness as he confronts a representative of his life work's failure (while his thesis concerning the human condition was published his lover perished).
To understand that which cannot be comprehended is somewhat difficult and the alien from Solaris seems to be saying quit worrying about me and start concerning yourselves with each other. But the ambiguous ending suggests that the few possessing the tenacity to confront themselves should reasonably consider such quests, although in their pursuit they may become lost in the imagination as they attempt to quantify the unqualifiable.
Oscar Picks
Best Picture: Slumdog Millionaire
Best Director: Danny Boyle
Best Actress: Melissa Leo
Best Actor (tough category this year): Mickey Rourke
Supporting Actor: Heath Ledger
Supporting Actress: Penélope Cruz
Best Editing: Milk
Writing (Adapted Screenplay): Slumdog Millionaire
Writing (Original Screenplay): Frozen River
Best Director: Danny Boyle
Best Actress: Melissa Leo
Best Actor (tough category this year): Mickey Rourke
Supporting Actor: Heath Ledger
Supporting Actress: Penélope Cruz
Best Editing: Milk
Writing (Adapted Screenplay): Slumdog Millionaire
Writing (Original Screenplay): Frozen River
Integers
Know what that's like.
Smoothed out and smitten.
Four installments.
Right over there.
Sweet bandana.
Drawn up, drawn out.
Quite the selection.
Ordered it two weeks ago.
Concerns, yes.
Measures maintained.
Microscopic reduction.
Mixed in.
Introduce the organ.
Beats and bundles.
From place to place.
Smoothed out and smitten.
Four installments.
Right over there.
Sweet bandana.
Drawn up, drawn out.
Quite the selection.
Ordered it two weeks ago.
Concerns, yes.
Measures maintained.
Microscopic reduction.
Mixed in.
Introduce the organ.
Beats and bundles.
From place to place.
Pave
And visionaries
envisioning visions
vehemently with
increasing voltage
unceasing vigilance
and a voice.
[For team Obama]
envisioning visions
vehemently with
increasing voltage
unceasing vigilance
and a voice.
[For team Obama]
Kabluey
Scott Prendergast's Kabluey argues that a down-on-their-luck can't-find-their-way brother-in-law can produce long-lasting ethical reverberations if given the opportunity to succeed. Salman (Prendergast) has no cash, no car, no charisma. He moves in with sister-in-law Leslie (Lisa Kudrow) to babysit her two children (his brother off fighting in Iraq). Shortly thereafter, he lands a job handing out fliers advertising office space on a lonely country road in a giant blue suit with an enormous blue head (the Kabluey Suit). Associated weirdoes drive by every day and engage in a variety of different gesticulations as they approach his absurd presence. He eventually discovers that Leslie is having an affair with her boss (Jeffrey Dean Morgan) and about to leave his brother in order to secure more financial resources. But through an act of trickery most sneaky and diabolical he is able to catch her lecherous employer out and about with another fling, thereby saving his brother's marriage (all the while dressed in the giant blue suit).
Kabluey's form is absurdist: it doesn't make much sense, just a number of odd scenes with colourful characters making one bizarre decision after another with little rhyme nor reason. Hence, it's structure is situated within a comedic void whose characteristics are troubled and tragic. Within this void, Salman wonders to and fro listening to everything he hears. The surrounding people don't seem to notice him even though he stands out like a piece of chalk on a paper clip. Hence, he's able to compile a great deal of information in the short time he spends in his new town, information that he can then disseminate since he has nothing to lose. Hence, he uses global universal ideals to moderately transform his local community who were blinded by his ludicrous omnipresence and thought he didn't notice, thereby demonstrating that the not-so-well-off members of a community are indeed capable of instigating positive change.
Kabluey's content is hit or miss; you'll like Prendergast's scenes and situations or you won't, but, either way, he does unleash a remarkable degree of creativity within which demonstrates that he may craft an exceptional comedic piece or two in the years to come. A great date flick or solid holiday rental, Kabluey illustrates that heart within happenstance can equal serenity and solidarity; all it takes is something different to docilely stir things up.
Kabluey's form is absurdist: it doesn't make much sense, just a number of odd scenes with colourful characters making one bizarre decision after another with little rhyme nor reason. Hence, it's structure is situated within a comedic void whose characteristics are troubled and tragic. Within this void, Salman wonders to and fro listening to everything he hears. The surrounding people don't seem to notice him even though he stands out like a piece of chalk on a paper clip. Hence, he's able to compile a great deal of information in the short time he spends in his new town, information that he can then disseminate since he has nothing to lose. Hence, he uses global universal ideals to moderately transform his local community who were blinded by his ludicrous omnipresence and thought he didn't notice, thereby demonstrating that the not-so-well-off members of a community are indeed capable of instigating positive change.
Kabluey's content is hit or miss; you'll like Prendergast's scenes and situations or you won't, but, either way, he does unleash a remarkable degree of creativity within which demonstrates that he may craft an exceptional comedic piece or two in the years to come. A great date flick or solid holiday rental, Kabluey illustrates that heart within happenstance can equal serenity and solidarity; all it takes is something different to docilely stir things up.
Candelabra
No no no, be careful,
things go bump in the night:
turn around, watch, wheel,
cross that t, chronicle it,
write it in your diary,
it'll be important, sincere,
trust your instincts,
flow and go, cup of tea,
sleepy time shot of the
sheriff in a frame on the
nightstand, fluffy little
pillows lavender scented
throughout the week, forests
and fairy tales and fortunes.
things go bump in the night:
turn around, watch, wheel,
cross that t, chronicle it,
write it in your diary,
it'll be important, sincere,
trust your instincts,
flow and go, cup of tea,
sleepy time shot of the
sheriff in a frame on the
nightstand, fluffy little
pillows lavender scented
throughout the week, forests
and fairy tales and fortunes.
Prologue
Wave upon wave
upon wave of ideas
and plans presented
throughout the course
of the day.
Jotted. Filed.
If there was a camera
a picture could have
been taken of that.
Wish I knew which specific
pears to order during
which season. That would
be easy to figure out.
No I don't.
upon wave of ideas
and plans presented
throughout the course
of the day.
Jotted. Filed.
If there was a camera
a picture could have
been taken of that.
Wish I knew which specific
pears to order during
which season. That would
be easy to figure out.
No I don't.
In the Woods at Dusk
Trenchant, verdant, distinct sounds,
outside within and all around,
these noises twilight's bold decrees
resound and ground serenity.
So many birds together sing
and call each other on the wing,
upon this furrow's reclining chair
their commune bright, their thoughts laid bare.
I sit and watch while the sun fades
through orangey pinkish enlightening grades
the songs slow down and finish up
and night descends like daylight's dust.
outside within and all around,
these noises twilight's bold decrees
resound and ground serenity.
So many birds together sing
and call each other on the wing,
upon this furrow's reclining chair
their commune bright, their thoughts laid bare.
I sit and watch while the sun fades
through orangey pinkish enlightening grades
the songs slow down and finish up
and night descends like daylight's dust.
Quantum of Solace
Marc Forster's Quantum of Solace is an excellent example of a film wherein the content does not skillfully match the form. There's a car chase followed by a foot race followed by a boat chase followed by a plane chase with lots of explosions and fighting and flesh. But I've come to expect more from a Bond film, Casino Royale having generated a strong desire to see their dimensions cohesively expand.
And these dimensions do slightly expand, it's just matter of the ways in which they unreel. There's a poignant scene where Felix Leiter (Jeffrey Wright) and Bond (Daniel Craig) exchange chides regarding whose country has exploited impoverished nations more prominently, each drinking away their remorse; the villain (Dominic Greene played by Mathieu Almaric) seeks to control Bolivia's water supply as opposed to their oil, an acknowledgement of the hypothesis that water will be the most sought after resource of the 20th century (and a critique of the privatization of water); villainous Greene seeks the CIA's support in overthrowing the Bolivian Government and states that a pseudo-tyranny is better than having a Marxist distributing oil profits amongst the people, Hugo Chavez's critics placed within a somewhat vituperative frame (the CIA operative who does not support these goals eventually receiving a promotion); and Bond-Girl Camille (Olga Kurylenko) has a disfiguring burn mark on her back (a sign that perhaps Bond girls will slowly stop being played by super models) and valiantly defeats the misogynistic ghoul General Medrano (Joaquín Cosio) during the final battle. At the same time, Dominic Greene is posing as an environmentalist, meaning that while writers Paul Haggis, Neal Purvis, and Robert Wade are deconstructing Bondian motifs, they are still working within their established guidelines (and by doing so subtly promoting centrist politics).
Unfortunately, the film is basically a randy action movie, complete with the aforementioned chase scenes and pandering gratuitous sex (although the pandering nature of this scene may be ironically lampooning fans searching for this kind of thing). The dialogue is strict, reticent, and acute, but often full of clichés and implausible realizations (notably the scene where Greene is introduced and Camille doesn't become irate even though he admits he just tried to have her killed). Greene's introduction works well insofar as he's the film's villain and there's no pomp and circumstance, and his character isn't prominently developed within (meaning that villains perhaps should not receive the same amount of attention as Bond standouts Le Chiffre or Max Zorin). But Bond's character isn't developed either and a lot of the action just shows him having blunt conversations (or not) before he kills someone. True, within he seeks to avenge the death of Casino Royale love interest Vesper Lynd (Eva Green), and providing someone blinded by rage with eloquent, dainty dialogue could slightly diminish this reality. However, this form could mean that the film's uninspired content is meant to connote that if one finds their motivations through revenge, they resoundingly risk living in a quantum of solace.
And these dimensions do slightly expand, it's just matter of the ways in which they unreel. There's a poignant scene where Felix Leiter (Jeffrey Wright) and Bond (Daniel Craig) exchange chides regarding whose country has exploited impoverished nations more prominently, each drinking away their remorse; the villain (Dominic Greene played by Mathieu Almaric) seeks to control Bolivia's water supply as opposed to their oil, an acknowledgement of the hypothesis that water will be the most sought after resource of the 20th century (and a critique of the privatization of water); villainous Greene seeks the CIA's support in overthrowing the Bolivian Government and states that a pseudo-tyranny is better than having a Marxist distributing oil profits amongst the people, Hugo Chavez's critics placed within a somewhat vituperative frame (the CIA operative who does not support these goals eventually receiving a promotion); and Bond-Girl Camille (Olga Kurylenko) has a disfiguring burn mark on her back (a sign that perhaps Bond girls will slowly stop being played by super models) and valiantly defeats the misogynistic ghoul General Medrano (Joaquín Cosio) during the final battle. At the same time, Dominic Greene is posing as an environmentalist, meaning that while writers Paul Haggis, Neal Purvis, and Robert Wade are deconstructing Bondian motifs, they are still working within their established guidelines (and by doing so subtly promoting centrist politics).
Unfortunately, the film is basically a randy action movie, complete with the aforementioned chase scenes and pandering gratuitous sex (although the pandering nature of this scene may be ironically lampooning fans searching for this kind of thing). The dialogue is strict, reticent, and acute, but often full of clichés and implausible realizations (notably the scene where Greene is introduced and Camille doesn't become irate even though he admits he just tried to have her killed). Greene's introduction works well insofar as he's the film's villain and there's no pomp and circumstance, and his character isn't prominently developed within (meaning that villains perhaps should not receive the same amount of attention as Bond standouts Le Chiffre or Max Zorin). But Bond's character isn't developed either and a lot of the action just shows him having blunt conversations (or not) before he kills someone. True, within he seeks to avenge the death of Casino Royale love interest Vesper Lynd (Eva Green), and providing someone blinded by rage with eloquent, dainty dialogue could slightly diminish this reality. However, this form could mean that the film's uninspired content is meant to connote that if one finds their motivations through revenge, they resoundingly risk living in a quantum of solace.
Workin'
That splash, tail slap
honked horn out
of position coffee
on my suit zoot
curious stain mud
soaked boots
compiling
items itemized
16 kms through the rain
60 driveways shoveled
raucous ravens
ride's 40 hours
reading, tea,
water, macchiato,
10 hours straight
several thousand trees
late the only time I
needed to be there,
stacking wood lift
and organize the
heavy material
then rest.
honked horn out
of position coffee
on my suit zoot
curious stain mud
soaked boots
compiling
items itemized
16 kms through the rain
60 driveways shoveled
raucous ravens
ride's 40 hours
reading, tea,
water, macchiato,
10 hours straight
several thousand trees
late the only time I
needed to be there,
stacking wood lift
and organize the
heavy material
then rest.
Milky Way
If stars were like airplanes there'd be less stars but they'd be moving, and, as they move, you could blink and make a different wish each time that star (airplane) moved, and if two planes collided, well then, that'd be kind of like a supernova; and wishing upon a supernova's bad luck.
Daytime
Lying back in a meadow
stretched out on the ground,
quaint cloud formations
blow past shapes and settings
daisy's swaying
rosemary sighted.
Deep azure blue rests 'pon
hazelnut green,
elephant granite struts
through mosses and lichens
sitting placidly perched,
sparrows and waxwings
scamper and skirt; out from
the copse sticks the head
of a sleuth, tracking the
mischief aware yet aloof.
My feet feel light raindrops
as they deftly disperse,
light noontime break to quench
nature's thirst. Be nice to see
lightning appear up above,
a brilliant bright beam
disappeared, then in love.
stretched out on the ground,
quaint cloud formations
blow past shapes and settings
daisy's swaying
rosemary sighted.
Deep azure blue rests 'pon
hazelnut green,
elephant granite struts
through mosses and lichens
sitting placidly perched,
sparrows and waxwings
scamper and skirt; out from
the copse sticks the head
of a sleuth, tracking the
mischief aware yet aloof.
My feet feel light raindrops
as they deftly disperse,
light noontime break to quench
nature's thirst. Be nice to see
lightning appear up above,
a brilliant bright beam
disappeared, then in love.
Vicky Cristina Barcelona
Woody Allen's Vicky Cristina Barcelona chronicles the liaisons of two American women summering in Spain. Vicky (Rebecca Hall) believes in monogamy while Cristina (Scarlett Johansson) is interested in experimentation. The insouciant hedonistic painter Juan Antonio (Javier Bardem) audaciously propositions them much to Vicky's shock and Christina's delight. As fate has it, Cristina receives food poisoning incapacitating her for the weekend, leaving Antonio and Vicky alone together. Vicky has trouble dealing with the aftermath, and melancholically resigns to watching Cristina, Antonio and Antonio's passionately temperamental ex-wife Maria Elena (Penélope Cruz) embrace their sensations. In the end, after both Maria and Vicky leave Antonio, he pleads with Vicky for one last assignation, having fallen victim to ancient laws of the heart, only Paris being able to slay Achilles. The girls return home, astute students of the senses, Christina still solely aware of that which she does not want, Vicky finding strength through fidelity. Another tale wherein ideological points of view are challenged by the heuristics of happenstance, where characters submit to either that which they long to possess or can never comprehend.
In the beginning, the narration is tedious, but, as the film progresses it becomes more endearing, thereby formally deconstructing the logic of first impressions. And Cruz's performance is outstanding, stealing each and every scene she graces, the wild chaotic impulsive destructive yet inspiring Latino genius, demanding her whims be worshipped, simultaneously driving and deflating Antonio's art.
Nice to see Woody Allen can still pull it off.
In the beginning, the narration is tedious, but, as the film progresses it becomes more endearing, thereby formally deconstructing the logic of first impressions. And Cruz's performance is outstanding, stealing each and every scene she graces, the wild chaotic impulsive destructive yet inspiring Latino genius, demanding her whims be worshipped, simultaneously driving and deflating Antonio's art.
Nice to see Woody Allen can still pull it off.
David Lynch Coffee
Tried my first cup of David Lynch coffee the other day. The first sip had a particular flavour but halfway through the cup everything changed.
How do you brew that?
Note: I would very much like a Jack Nance type role in the next David Lynch film:
"You call that lemonade? I'll show you lemonade. First, you take a bunch of lemons, a lemon squeezer, and some sugar. What are you looking at?"
"Lemons. The lemons you've got there."
"You don't like my hat? You didn't look at my hat? It's a nice a hat."
"Well, now that you mention it, I agree, it is nice, it's a nice hat, I like it."
"That's good. Very good. Do you want it?"
"Well, no, I've got my own hat."
"But you like mine don't you?"
"Well yes, but . . ."
"So you like my hat but you don't want it but you do want my lemonade? Try it on. It fits, right, looks good, you now look better, I don't need the hat, I've got others."
"Thanks."
"Anytime."
How do you brew that?
Note: I would very much like a Jack Nance type role in the next David Lynch film:
"You call that lemonade? I'll show you lemonade. First, you take a bunch of lemons, a lemon squeezer, and some sugar. What are you looking at?"
"Lemons. The lemons you've got there."
"You don't like my hat? You didn't look at my hat? It's a nice a hat."
"Well, now that you mention it, I agree, it is nice, it's a nice hat, I like it."
"That's good. Very good. Do you want it?"
"Well, no, I've got my own hat."
"But you like mine don't you?"
"Well yes, but . . ."
"So you like my hat but you don't want it but you do want my lemonade? Try it on. It fits, right, looks good, you now look better, I don't need the hat, I've got others."
"Thanks."
"Anytime."
Appaloosa
Ed Harris takes the directorial reigns for the second time in Appaloosa, where "feelings get you killed." Within, Harris plays lawperson Virgil Cole, who, along with trusty right-hand-man Everett Hitch (Viggo Mortensen), agrees to administer Appaloosa's justice; after the town transfers all of their power and authority over to him. His presence is required for Randall Bragg (Jeremy Irons) has murdered Marshall Jack Bell (Bobby Jauregui) and his reckless goons are doing as they please with the town's commodities and food supply. Piano playing hostess Allison French (Renée Zellweger) steps off the train with one goal in mind: find the top dog and play fetch, which eventually leads to her kidnapping, a circumstance upon which she forthrightly capitalizes.
Hitch and Cole!
Appalossa's basically, yet, another, silly western, with plenty of battles and blood, corruption and collusion, etcetera. The relationship between Hitch and Cole saves the picture and if you find their stoic allegiance endearing, you'll enjoy the film. Cole is tough as nails, making his living with his gun, never backing down, always, vigilant. As is Hitch but Hitch needs Cole in the political forefront, talking the talk, as much as Cole needs Hitch in the background, helping him walk the walk. When a local member of the town council (Phil Olson played by Timothy Spall from the Harry Potter films [Peter Pettigrew]) explains to Hitch that his organization is worried about Cole's erratic behaviour, Hitch quickly shoots back, reminding him that people representing law and order by-any-means-necessary are on occasion not the most rational of individuals, because they must be ready to confront dangerous situations every second of every day, constantly dueling with reason's dastardly dark-side. When Cole becomes upset regarding French's infidelities, Hitch wisely explains that some women simply like being with important men and he should do his best to accept that, and use that acceptance to placate his expectations. But when her ambition seeks the company of reformed and pardoned Randall Bragg, glad handing dandy (Lynch and Frost, Twin Peaks Pilot), Hitch turns in his badge and prepares for High Afternoon.
The dialogue is very Westerny, but screenplay writers Robert Knott and Harris work in an amusing motif wherein Cole tries his best to improve both his langue and parole. The conversations between Cole and Hitch are full of laconic down-home pastoral charm, and will likely (occasionally) win over even the most hardened urban intellectual. And there's a great shootout where both Cole and Hitch take plenty of licks while providing their adversaries with one or two of their own. (Structurally, after Cole is wounded, he returns to Appaloosa only to find the town has changed, advancing at a pace that his new knee brace may not allow him to administer, reminding one of pesky Jake Gittes in Chinatown). Jeremy Irons struggles with the role (the ruthless yet polite and well-read British villain), although, his awkward presence fits Harris's offbeat styling, and does grow more homely as the film strides t'wards its horizon.
One thing to keep in mind when viewing Appaloosa is that Harris is an actor's director, and when such directors employ even a slight degree of competency (Clint Eastwood being one of the best), they can bring out the best from their cast (although Harris really should have taken a couple more takes for the opening scene).
Appaloosa's not the greatest film, but it's entertaining and thoughtful, addressing traditional western tropes in a playful albeit maniacal fashion. While not as quaintly kitschy as The Outlaw Josey Whales, or as rivetingly raunchy as Hud, Appaloosa still reigns in a wildly independent wherewithal, preventing the sun from setting on a weary, weathered coincidence.
[Note: on the political level, Cole is the leader of the Cole and Hitch duo. However, as mentioned previously, Cole cannot lead without Hitch's support, in the same way that political figureheads cannot function without competent bureaucrats writing, implementing, and interpreting their policies/etc. We find Hitch's bureaucratic prominence within the Cole/Hitch duo (his position as unsung hero) represented by the phonetics of their names, insofar as Hitch and Cole flows much more smoothly than Cole and Hitch].
Hitch and Cole!
Appalossa's basically, yet, another, silly western, with plenty of battles and blood, corruption and collusion, etcetera. The relationship between Hitch and Cole saves the picture and if you find their stoic allegiance endearing, you'll enjoy the film. Cole is tough as nails, making his living with his gun, never backing down, always, vigilant. As is Hitch but Hitch needs Cole in the political forefront, talking the talk, as much as Cole needs Hitch in the background, helping him walk the walk. When a local member of the town council (Phil Olson played by Timothy Spall from the Harry Potter films [Peter Pettigrew]) explains to Hitch that his organization is worried about Cole's erratic behaviour, Hitch quickly shoots back, reminding him that people representing law and order by-any-means-necessary are on occasion not the most rational of individuals, because they must be ready to confront dangerous situations every second of every day, constantly dueling with reason's dastardly dark-side. When Cole becomes upset regarding French's infidelities, Hitch wisely explains that some women simply like being with important men and he should do his best to accept that, and use that acceptance to placate his expectations. But when her ambition seeks the company of reformed and pardoned Randall Bragg, glad handing dandy (Lynch and Frost, Twin Peaks Pilot), Hitch turns in his badge and prepares for High Afternoon.
The dialogue is very Westerny, but screenplay writers Robert Knott and Harris work in an amusing motif wherein Cole tries his best to improve both his langue and parole. The conversations between Cole and Hitch are full of laconic down-home pastoral charm, and will likely (occasionally) win over even the most hardened urban intellectual. And there's a great shootout where both Cole and Hitch take plenty of licks while providing their adversaries with one or two of their own. (Structurally, after Cole is wounded, he returns to Appaloosa only to find the town has changed, advancing at a pace that his new knee brace may not allow him to administer, reminding one of pesky Jake Gittes in Chinatown). Jeremy Irons struggles with the role (the ruthless yet polite and well-read British villain), although, his awkward presence fits Harris's offbeat styling, and does grow more homely as the film strides t'wards its horizon.
One thing to keep in mind when viewing Appaloosa is that Harris is an actor's director, and when such directors employ even a slight degree of competency (Clint Eastwood being one of the best), they can bring out the best from their cast (although Harris really should have taken a couple more takes for the opening scene).
Appaloosa's not the greatest film, but it's entertaining and thoughtful, addressing traditional western tropes in a playful albeit maniacal fashion. While not as quaintly kitschy as The Outlaw Josey Whales, or as rivetingly raunchy as Hud, Appaloosa still reigns in a wildly independent wherewithal, preventing the sun from setting on a weary, weathered coincidence.
[Note: on the political level, Cole is the leader of the Cole and Hitch duo. However, as mentioned previously, Cole cannot lead without Hitch's support, in the same way that political figureheads cannot function without competent bureaucrats writing, implementing, and interpreting their policies/etc. We find Hitch's bureaucratic prominence within the Cole/Hitch duo (his position as unsung hero) represented by the phonetics of their names, insofar as Hitch and Cole flows much more smoothly than Cole and Hitch].
Appetite
3 to 4 different
levels of meaning
and a set of keys
beside a boiling
kettle and some
vines climbing
up the wall
decorating the
kitchen magnetically.
levels of meaning
and a set of keys
beside a boiling
kettle and some
vines climbing
up the wall
decorating the
kitchen magnetically.
Definition
Each dictionary defines words specifically and such specifics are generally linked through semantic themes which become particular when synthesized and employed.
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.
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.
Stream
Different steps containing different rhythms, patterns, walking
past towards the door, the lounge, quiet, peaceful
zigzagging brick wall blocking off the dining room,
staggered, stuck, serpentine, puzzling, peppered,
discipline and punish, rules, rulers, measuring degrees,
minuscule amounts of mischief, grabbed my toque, my
shades to view a portrait given historically, aurically,
manufactured, mutated, the gift, the genius, transcending
and remodelling trends within trends within trends, the
waves pick up and subside, cut through,
ebb and flow, go with it, see an oyster,
a dam, the mollusk, they made part 12, can't remember
the original's director, doesn't matter, the Bel Air, Chateau
Frontenac, stretching across the divide, smells like a hand
clasped in mine with a faint whisper lodged in a
definitive epithet uttered while a horse-drawn
carriage pulls up blocking the cold, bins full of
fire and wood burning, getting ready to cater, 7 films for 5
nights, liked B______ and a styrofoam cup,
filled, emptied, replenished, what a soundtrack, Tegan and
Sara, bin full of videocassettes, antique collection, found
Beetlejuice the cartoon, stared out through the bay windows
at the flower beds and the trees.
past towards the door, the lounge, quiet, peaceful
zigzagging brick wall blocking off the dining room,
staggered, stuck, serpentine, puzzling, peppered,
discipline and punish, rules, rulers, measuring degrees,
minuscule amounts of mischief, grabbed my toque, my
shades to view a portrait given historically, aurically,
manufactured, mutated, the gift, the genius, transcending
and remodelling trends within trends within trends, the
waves pick up and subside, cut through,
ebb and flow, go with it, see an oyster,
a dam, the mollusk, they made part 12, can't remember
the original's director, doesn't matter, the Bel Air, Chateau
Frontenac, stretching across the divide, smells like a hand
clasped in mine with a faint whisper lodged in a
definitive epithet uttered while a horse-drawn
carriage pulls up blocking the cold, bins full of
fire and wood burning, getting ready to cater, 7 films for 5
nights, liked B______ and a styrofoam cup,
filled, emptied, replenished, what a soundtrack, Tegan and
Sara, bin full of videocassettes, antique collection, found
Beetlejuice the cartoon, stared out through the bay windows
at the flower beds and the trees.
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