Avatar

James Cameron's Avatar is a science fiction treat for both environmentalists and epic film lovers alike. On the far off planet of Pandora, a greedy corporation is mining a precious mineral known as unobtainium, many deposits of which lie beneath sacred portions of the planet's lush forest. The indigenous Na'vi take none to kindly to the intrusion but have learned to live somewhat peacefully with their militaristic human neighbours. Until those neighbours decide it's time to destroy their revered Hometree, a scurrilous act which unites the Na'vi tribes for a final showdown around their venerated Tree of Souls. Leading them is Jake Sully (Sam Worthington), a paraplegic marine who, thanks to a remarkable scientific development, is able to inhabit and navigate a Na'vi body while sleeping in a special tank. Is his leadership divine? Has he been chosen by Eywa, the Na'vi's most prominent deity, to restore balance to the planet? Will his relationship with Na'vi beauty Neytiri (Zoe Saldana) bear forbidden fruit? Or will Parker Selfridge (Giovanni Ribisi) and his bombastic military commando sidekick Colonel Miles Quaritch (Stephan Lang) wipe out the Na'vi and have their way with Pandora's plunder?

The ending appealed to me although it's somewhat frustrating insofar as it's only a movie. It's a lot of fun and I probably would have rated it much higher if I was still fourteen. Nothing really that new presented and honestly, I preferred Avatar's prototype, Dune. Solid reimagining of Herbert's classic novel, nonetheless, which should find a massive, enthusiastic audience.

The Cove

Evidence within Louie Psihoyo's The Cove proves that dolphins are being slaughtered by the thousands in Taijii, Japan, each year. Beginning in September and lasting until March, fisherpeople within Taijii coral herds of dolphins in an isolated cove in order to sell them to the dolphin entertainment industry. But the leftover dolphins aren't released, they're killed for their highly toxic meat which is then sold to the Japanese population, often labelled as something different. In The Cove, a group of environmentalists, many associated with the Oceanic Preservation and Sea Shepherd Conservation Societies, resolutely fight to find a way to photograph the killing, risking imprisonment, and, according to dolphin rights activist Ric O'Barry, death, to obtain their footage. While the dolphin industry in Taijii is the principal focus of the film, other subjects include the problems associated with the International Whaling Commission, the reasons why many feel justified in hunting whales and dolphins, the ways in which the Japanese whaling lobby is buying support for their cause, and the general characteristics of dolphins themselves. As a meat eater, I feel that if I generally condemn those concerned with this business I'll come off sounding like a hypocrite, so I'll qualify my condemnation by saying that I generally support the eating of farmed meat, because farmers are usually concerned with maintaining healthy marketable populations of their commodities, not slaughtering wild populations that will have difficulty maintaining their present numbers. At the same time, I find the idea of dolphin farms to be incredibly cruel, almost as cruel as the bear farms which suck bile from a bear's gall bladder periodically throughout the day (or the ways in which chicken wings are produced, or . . . ). But I'm sure the cattle industry looks pretty horrible to the majority of Hindus so I can't judge their cultural traits seriously without first turning that lens inwards. The film explores Japan's relationship with whaling from a predominantly critical angle, which seems justified considering that populations take long periods of time to reestablish themselves. Hunting whales and dolphins because they eat fish is somewhat ridiculous, as is selling their mercury laden meat to consumers (imagine eating the belugas out of the St. Lawrence). All in all, I highly commend the courage and tenacity maintained by those responsible for creating The Cove, for their commitment demonstrates that it is possible to affect social change and constructively challenge the powers that be.

Patches

Jump, look from side to side,
yawn, yawn again, jump up,
inspect, meow, jump down,
jump back up, lay precisely
where I'm trying to write
because I'm not paying
attention to you, cat,
knowledgeable, eerie,
not looking for petting,
just to be observed, off
you go leaving a fine
quantity of hair behind,
chillin'.

Tulpan

Set in the wild and barren steppes of Kazakhstan, Sergei Dvortsevoy's Tulpan chronicles the hard times facing romantic Asa (Tolepbergen Baisakalov) and his sister Samal (Samal Esljamova). Asa served as a sailor before moving to his sister's yurt in order to learn the ins and outs of sheep herding and go into business for himself. But Samal's husband Ondas (Ondas Besikbasov) won't give him any land until he's found a bride, and, unfortunately, the only girl fit for marriage in the region, Tulpan, wants nothing to do with him. Tulpan's intransigence combines with the belittling treatment 'city-boy' Asa receives from his in-laws to cause him to consider abandoning the pastoral life. But a miraculous birth and the strength of his family ties may just be enough to let him hold on to his dreams.

Jolanta Dylewska's cinematography is mesmerizing as is the introduction to Kazakhstanian culture. While the problems faced are somewhat universal, the particular contours of each situation are informed by local custom. Definitely bucolic and definitely remote, Asa's frustrations, foibles, and fantasies are delicately displayed amidst the unforgiving landscape, the vast plains reflecting his adventurous spirit, the isolated intimacy of farm life his sense of helplessness. There's also a quirky veterinarian who arguably steals the show (with Lynchian reverberations) and a pesky goat who clandestinely complicates things.

O'Horten

Bent Hamer's O'Horten examines the life and times of the shy and modest Odd Horten (Bård Owe) as he retires after 40 odd years of driving a train. The tale is pleasantly offbeat and pastorally piquant, quaintly following Horten's adventures throughout urban and rural Norway. His routine is solid and his disaffected and curious demeanour allows him to make new friends while maintaining old relationships as well. Sauntering along at a seductively subdued pace, the bizarre situations and precise improvisations bear a detached realistic resonance that haplessly disseminates charm. Bit slow at points and remarkably awkward (yet familiar), O'Horten's fugitively quotidian individualism will still likely produce two to three comfortable shakes of the head as viewers sit back and absorb the characterization.

If you're cooking skills aren't that great and you've decided to bring beverages to a non-alcoholic potluck, note that chocolate milk is often a huge hit.

Shockwave

Expanded empty temptation leading to the purchase of nothing.

Bad Pickup Line

So, do you come here often or are you just an alcoholic?

Oddly, whenever I'm presented with numerical data I tend to immediately trim one third of the value, although, whenever I present quantitative figures, I always do my best to provide extremely precise information.

So sick of picking people's recycling out of the garbage. It's not funny people!

Bus Prairie Snow Storm

Specks and sticks and frozen
pictures, 9 cars ditched,
erosion, scripture, 16 hours
we calmly waited, bus station
blues, dilapidated, coffee tastes
well just like cream, off that music
before I scream, Bubble Bobble,
Donkey Kong, that last egg sandwich's
holding on, and yes! she's picked up her
guitar and that guy there he run's a bar,
we got free breakfast and raced to taste
a plump Mae Wested brownie plate;
one smoke, two smokes, three smokes,
four, we broke the automatic door;
from New Brunswick, Windsor, Kitchener,
Yellowknife and Vancouver, crossing frozen
fields of wheat, the tired transmission stiff
with heat, out on these farms I'd assume cold
from which great hockey finds its mold; Red
Deer's not that far away, then onwards North
to rest and play.

Look at the size of that fucking raven.