Whoa.
Hold on a second.
What the hell just happened?
Trauma, maximized.
Traditional everything, capsized.
An idyllic summer of youthful exploration, satirized.
Desire and the literary imagination, terrorized.
Or distilled, depending on whether or not young Antoine (Loïc Esteves) and Anna (Marianne Fortier) can poetically compute.
The setting is idyllic. Traditional notions of marriage are elevated. The pivotal moment synthesizes far too many constitutional traumatic clefts for Guillaume Sylvestre's 1er amour not to be considered satirical.
While trying to write a breakthrough novel.
Classical music, cicading un/aware.
The shots of the insects etc. innocently foreshadow.
Is M. Sylvestre trying to classically pinpoint a salacious oxymoronic yet foundational postmodern quintessence or simply diagnosing a psychiatrist's dream?
The final image of the boat speeding away, the family unit confined yet in constant motion, offers little guidance.
But that look on his face.
The risk factor, Lothario, focus on the risk factor.
I might have released this in November.
Solid satire.
Sunday, June 30, 2013
Okay, this is worth instablogging.
I see this poet perform last summer.
She's good.
I don't see her again until a couple of weeks ago while waiting for the métro.
I don't say anything, figure she doesn't recognize me, why would she, I spoke to her briefly at a poetry reading last summer, why would she remember me, I have a hard enough time figuring out things to say to girls who know who I am, let alone those whom I don't know.
But then I see her on the bus last weekend.
This is odd because I was supposed to catch an earlier bus but it was full so I couldn't get on.
I had to wait for the next bus and then there she was.
Then tonight, I get on the métro, the doors shut, I'm waiting for it to depart, but it doesn't depart, the doors open again, and then there she is again, briskly stepping aboard.
What are the odds of that?
What are the odds of two events like that happening in a city as big as Montréal in a little over a week?
Astronomically high.
Lottery winning high.
Hope she's doing alright.
I see this poet perform last summer.
She's good.
I don't see her again until a couple of weeks ago while waiting for the métro.
I don't say anything, figure she doesn't recognize me, why would she, I spoke to her briefly at a poetry reading last summer, why would she remember me, I have a hard enough time figuring out things to say to girls who know who I am, let alone those whom I don't know.
But then I see her on the bus last weekend.
This is odd because I was supposed to catch an earlier bus but it was full so I couldn't get on.
I had to wait for the next bus and then there she was.
Then tonight, I get on the métro, the doors shut, I'm waiting for it to depart, but it doesn't depart, the doors open again, and then there she is again, briskly stepping aboard.
What are the odds of that?
What are the odds of two events like that happening in a city as big as Montréal in a little over a week?
Astronomically high.
Lottery winning high.
Hope she's doing alright.
Today I was faced with a tough decision.
Having given blood early on, I then proceeded to JazzFest. Gauze and tape were applied to my arm at the point from which the blood was extracted. I removed the gauze and tape two hours later only to find my arm stuck to my shirt one hour hence, stuck because that very same arm was bleeding.
Having no alternative shirt within my backpack, I had to decide whether or not to keep wearing the blood stained shirt or put on the jacket which I did have in my backpack and deal with the resulting discomfort.
The bleeding had stopped (and thankfully didn't start up again).
After 20 minutes of deliberation I went with the jacket.
This proved comfortable after the sun went down.
Yet for a solid 4 hours there was a minor degree of discomfort.
Having given blood early on, I then proceeded to JazzFest. Gauze and tape were applied to my arm at the point from which the blood was extracted. I removed the gauze and tape two hours later only to find my arm stuck to my shirt one hour hence, stuck because that very same arm was bleeding.
Having no alternative shirt within my backpack, I had to decide whether or not to keep wearing the blood stained shirt or put on the jacket which I did have in my backpack and deal with the resulting discomfort.
The bleeding had stopped (and thankfully didn't start up again).
After 20 minutes of deliberation I went with the jacket.
This proved comfortable after the sun went down.
Yet for a solid 4 hours there was a minor degree of discomfort.
The key is to catch the moment without getting caught up in it.
Has anyone written that cheesy line before?
I don't recall every having read or heard it.
It's better to get caught up in it anyways.
What?
(In the film, the elder figure begrudgingly mentions that line to a youth with talent whom he or she's trying to steer clear from hard times. The youth ignores him or her and succeeds. Yay!).
Has anyone written that cheesy line before?
I don't recall every having read or heard it.
It's better to get caught up in it anyways.
What?
(In the film, the elder figure begrudgingly mentions that line to a youth with talent whom he or she's trying to steer clear from hard times. The youth ignores him or her and succeeds. Yay!).
Thursday, June 27, 2013
The East
Professional integrity lands itself a high-level covert assignment, full of danger and risk, wherein it must clandestinely adjudicate its broad range of astute sociological reflexes to infiltrate a stealth pack of humanistic hyperreactivists and expose their audacious whereabouts.
She finds them far too easily, but after coyly yet adhesively nestling, finds herself inductively considering their proactive cause, which seeks stricter much more effective regulations regarding the ways in which big business generates profit.
She works for a rather big business herself and must come to terms with its motives as she becomes increasingly integrated in both domains.
Her partner is frustrated.
Her conscience is bifurcated.
Friendships coalesce.
She is neither arrogant nor weak.
The East melodramatically yet crucially materializes the dissonant underground social dynamics of altruistically pursuing game changing objectives (the comments made by the underground collective occasionally seem at odds with their ethical ideals), bringing some of Terry Eagleton's arguments to life, without shying away from juxtaposing economic with ethical impoverishment.
The scene where Izzy's (Ellen Page) estranged parent jumps in the toxic sludge works well.
Laws can be made to correspond to the goals fought for in this film.
Made and enforced.
Check out Vincent Lam's Tommy Douglas, part of Penguin's Extraordinary Canadians series, and find out what the CCF party did for ordinary hard working citizens of Saskatchewan in a relatively short period of time, when a lot of people thought nothing could be done.
They enacted social democratic change while balancing the budget.
They proceeded cautiously and soundly to legitimize their movement's thrust.
Not that easy to do of course, but there are people all over the world who become rather upset when their water supply turns carcinogenic.
It's just common sense.
She finds them far too easily, but after coyly yet adhesively nestling, finds herself inductively considering their proactive cause, which seeks stricter much more effective regulations regarding the ways in which big business generates profit.
She works for a rather big business herself and must come to terms with its motives as she becomes increasingly integrated in both domains.
Her partner is frustrated.
Her conscience is bifurcated.
Friendships coalesce.
She is neither arrogant nor weak.
The East melodramatically yet crucially materializes the dissonant underground social dynamics of altruistically pursuing game changing objectives (the comments made by the underground collective occasionally seem at odds with their ethical ideals), bringing some of Terry Eagleton's arguments to life, without shying away from juxtaposing economic with ethical impoverishment.
The scene where Izzy's (Ellen Page) estranged parent jumps in the toxic sludge works well.
Laws can be made to correspond to the goals fought for in this film.
Made and enforced.
Check out Vincent Lam's Tommy Douglas, part of Penguin's Extraordinary Canadians series, and find out what the CCF party did for ordinary hard working citizens of Saskatchewan in a relatively short period of time, when a lot of people thought nothing could be done.
They enacted social democratic change while balancing the budget.
They proceeded cautiously and soundly to legitimize their movement's thrust.
Not that easy to do of course, but there are people all over the world who become rather upset when their water supply turns carcinogenic.
It's just common sense.
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
The Kings of Summer
United off-kilter offspring.
Clinical bourgeois dexterity.
Juvenile introspective applicatory superciliousness.
Plunging right in.
Two friends and an accompanying oddball run away to the woods for the summer, and, since no one thinks to check for them there, their wilderness survival antics wantonly dipsy-doodle.
Perhaps not wantonly.
The Kings of Summer could have been more wanton.
Wanton at times however, as the daydreamy trouble making instigator must realize that he lacks the instincts of the hunter possessed by his lifelong associate who can't figure out what his problem is after the introduction of a feminine element.
Biaggio (Moises Arias) etherealizes a somewhat useless hands-on constructivism with a pertinent decorative unassuming acumen, best captured by the interpretive dance he releases to the beat of his rhythmic companions's drumming.
They interact as would young idealistic ill-prepared yet stubborn teens who find themselves inhabiting a nimble hardy brash funny neurotic filmic reverie.
The other main feature is Joe's (Nick Robinson) sarcastic jaded controlling super strict live-in family member whose prick of a temperament endears him to none.
Although he does steal a couple of scenes with his complete lack of sensitivity.
Suppose the scenes were meant for him.
He doesn't steal them.
These kids aren't that concerned with electronic devices.
They are able to competently manage a budget for awhile anyways however.
When Joe actually does hunt The Kings of Summer reaches a higher level.
Fun film.
Clinical bourgeois dexterity.
Juvenile introspective applicatory superciliousness.
Plunging right in.
Two friends and an accompanying oddball run away to the woods for the summer, and, since no one thinks to check for them there, their wilderness survival antics wantonly dipsy-doodle.
Perhaps not wantonly.
The Kings of Summer could have been more wanton.
Wanton at times however, as the daydreamy trouble making instigator must realize that he lacks the instincts of the hunter possessed by his lifelong associate who can't figure out what his problem is after the introduction of a feminine element.
Biaggio (Moises Arias) etherealizes a somewhat useless hands-on constructivism with a pertinent decorative unassuming acumen, best captured by the interpretive dance he releases to the beat of his rhythmic companions's drumming.
They interact as would young idealistic ill-prepared yet stubborn teens who find themselves inhabiting a nimble hardy brash funny neurotic filmic reverie.
The other main feature is Joe's (Nick Robinson) sarcastic jaded controlling super strict live-in family member whose prick of a temperament endears him to none.
Although he does steal a couple of scenes with his complete lack of sensitivity.
Suppose the scenes were meant for him.
He doesn't steal them.
These kids aren't that concerned with electronic devices.
They are able to competently manage a budget for awhile anyways however.
When Joe actually does hunt The Kings of Summer reaches a higher level.
Fun film.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Man of Steel
The Man of Steel.
Itinerant and contemplative.
Modest and self-sacrificing.
Sculptor of the spectacularly withdrawn.
Called to action.
Zack Snyder's Man of Steel seeks to altruistically benefit humankind while remaining practically skeptical of their leader's self-serving pretensions.
A 21st century Superman, different from Richard Donner's incarnation, the past continuously and instructively resurfacing, as opposed to being left behind at a certain age.
Like Superman on Facebook.
Prominent features of Superman lore, even his title, are humbly introduced, a sign mentioning Smallville here, an advertisement for LexCorp there, as the film's quasi-historical background subtly reflects Kent's (Henry Cavill) psyche.
Although there's no Jimmy Olsen.
The film confrontationally yet reticently undulates surreal mnemonic passages with sensational graphic carnage, Superman style, as the effected take the time to lend a helping hand, the innocent are humanely taken into consideration, methods of disseminating information multiply, and the ego is intransigently mollified.
The environmental movement finds support as Krypton explodes à cause de rampant resource extraction and later on we find a sole polar bear exploring beside the vestiges of his or her once dependable pack ice.
Jor-El (Russell Crowe) rides a wicked cool H'Raka too.
Solid blend of Superman (1978) and Superman II (1980), paying homage to its most convincing predecessors while leaving the door open for more adventurous avenues of inquiry.
General Zod's (Michael Shannon) still a bit of a dickhole.
Wasn't impressed with the new Ursa (Antje Traue as Faora-Ul).
Some of the supporting cast had more depth in the earlier films.
It's not just that I was 7 years old when I first saw them.
It's not.
Itinerant and contemplative.
Modest and self-sacrificing.
Sculptor of the spectacularly withdrawn.
Called to action.
Zack Snyder's Man of Steel seeks to altruistically benefit humankind while remaining practically skeptical of their leader's self-serving pretensions.
A 21st century Superman, different from Richard Donner's incarnation, the past continuously and instructively resurfacing, as opposed to being left behind at a certain age.
Like Superman on Facebook.
Prominent features of Superman lore, even his title, are humbly introduced, a sign mentioning Smallville here, an advertisement for LexCorp there, as the film's quasi-historical background subtly reflects Kent's (Henry Cavill) psyche.
Although there's no Jimmy Olsen.
The film confrontationally yet reticently undulates surreal mnemonic passages with sensational graphic carnage, Superman style, as the effected take the time to lend a helping hand, the innocent are humanely taken into consideration, methods of disseminating information multiply, and the ego is intransigently mollified.
The environmental movement finds support as Krypton explodes à cause de rampant resource extraction and later on we find a sole polar bear exploring beside the vestiges of his or her once dependable pack ice.
Jor-El (Russell Crowe) rides a wicked cool H'Raka too.
Solid blend of Superman (1978) and Superman II (1980), paying homage to its most convincing predecessors while leaving the door open for more adventurous avenues of inquiry.
General Zod's (Michael Shannon) still a bit of a dickhole.
Wasn't impressed with the new Ursa (Antje Traue as Faora-Ul).
Some of the supporting cast had more depth in the earlier films.
It's not just that I was 7 years old when I first saw them.
It's not.
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Epic
The people of the forest, immersed in regenerative evergreen trash talk, immune from the industry of the Stompers, yet still perceptive of their high-flying subterfrugal ways, promoting defensive broad-leaf deciduous synergies, with a staunch sustainable virtuous verdure, to cultivate alimentary symbiotics, and an everlasting intergenerational presence.
The Boggans seek to steal Queen Tara's (Beyoncé Knowles) special pod and awaken it in darkness, thereby sentencing their domain to a putrid epoch of unprecedented decay, during which their malodorous minions will leave the environment in ruin.
A distrusting Stomper's diminutive descension unfurls a wild card in full bloom.
Her realistic encounter with what she considered to be her father's crackpot theories forges deep resplendent rudimentary roots, as well as a cornucopia of friendships.
The profession of safeguarding information is integral to the action.
A living, breathing, biodiverse ecotopia of enchantment and wonder, Epic fumigates unfettered industrial predilections to nurture an arboreal florescence.
Bats get a bad rap though.
Bats are necessary components of a thriving ecosystem and would likely gluttonously feast on Boggans.
I've seen countless bats flying around at dusk and have never had one crash into me.
Mischievous asymmetrical mosquito munchers.
Bats!
The Boggans seek to steal Queen Tara's (Beyoncé Knowles) special pod and awaken it in darkness, thereby sentencing their domain to a putrid epoch of unprecedented decay, during which their malodorous minions will leave the environment in ruin.
A distrusting Stomper's diminutive descension unfurls a wild card in full bloom.
Her realistic encounter with what she considered to be her father's crackpot theories forges deep resplendent rudimentary roots, as well as a cornucopia of friendships.
The profession of safeguarding information is integral to the action.
A living, breathing, biodiverse ecotopia of enchantment and wonder, Epic fumigates unfettered industrial predilections to nurture an arboreal florescence.
Bats get a bad rap though.
Bats are necessary components of a thriving ecosystem and would likely gluttonously feast on Boggans.
I've seen countless bats flying around at dusk and have never had one crash into me.
Mischievous asymmetrical mosquito munchers.
Bats!
Thursday, June 13, 2013
The Lesser Blessed
An isolated inflammatory incident weighs heavy on an Aboriginal teen's conscience while his introverted tendencies and disinterest in his small Northern town's sporty proclivities hinder the smooth development of institutional friendships.
A rough-and-tumble ruffian knows his dark secret and holds it over his head like a combustible cataclysmic rendition.
A practical mistrust of adult male role models heightens the chill pervasive tension while his step-father's commanding yet non-confrontational manner patiently proves that his care is genuine.
There are a couple of great coming-of-age scenes, one, where the youngster in question, Larry Sole (Joel Evans), asks step-father Jed (Benjamin Bratt) for an explanation, which he hesitates to provide due to its grizzly subject matter, but then does, thereby treating Larry with hard-edged respect, and another, where, because of The Lesser Blessed's focus on fighting, drug abuse, hooliganism, and sexual desire, it seems as if the interactive outcome will at least be verbally violent, but when sympathetic reason melts the polarization, a prominent role model begins to take shape.
Jed is contrasted with Larry's teacher who seems like he comes from the South and is ill-prepared for the pressurized seclusion of the Northwest Territories.
Jaded yet convivial crafty confrontations liaise with remote yet age-old ceremonious socializations to foster The Lesser Blessed's adolescent acuity, while incubating an atemporal independent compassion.
With smooth contemporary revitalizations of oral traditions.
Bonding by the campfire.
A rough-and-tumble ruffian knows his dark secret and holds it over his head like a combustible cataclysmic rendition.
A practical mistrust of adult male role models heightens the chill pervasive tension while his step-father's commanding yet non-confrontational manner patiently proves that his care is genuine.
There are a couple of great coming-of-age scenes, one, where the youngster in question, Larry Sole (Joel Evans), asks step-father Jed (Benjamin Bratt) for an explanation, which he hesitates to provide due to its grizzly subject matter, but then does, thereby treating Larry with hard-edged respect, and another, where, because of The Lesser Blessed's focus on fighting, drug abuse, hooliganism, and sexual desire, it seems as if the interactive outcome will at least be verbally violent, but when sympathetic reason melts the polarization, a prominent role model begins to take shape.
Jed is contrasted with Larry's teacher who seems like he comes from the South and is ill-prepared for the pressurized seclusion of the Northwest Territories.
Jaded yet convivial crafty confrontations liaise with remote yet age-old ceremonious socializations to foster The Lesser Blessed's adolescent acuity, while incubating an atemporal independent compassion.
With smooth contemporary revitalizations of oral traditions.
Bonding by the campfire.
Sunday, June 9, 2013
After Earth
Professional militaristic familial dynamics unexpectedly find themselves stranded within a forbidding ravenous planetary panopticon, whose evolutionary criteria must be subsumed then surmounted, as predatory predicaments transform snacks into sentiments, in M. Night Shyamalan's After Earth.
The film's more straightforward.
Establishing a basic super-easy-to-follow far too predictable framework, whose truculent dimensions highlight the potential social impacts of an exhausted environment, it focuses intently on a fearless father (Will Smith) and his spirited son, the only survivors of a craft which crash lands on Earth centuries after humans were forced to flee.
The frame isn't necessarily a problem since After Earth's obviously made for a generalized teenage audience, and I liked the fear speech, but, apart from one scene which indicates that enormous buffaloesque herds have returned, I thought the futuristic depiction of Earth could have used more flora and fauna.
Perhaps due to Epic's contemporaneous release this feature was deliberately limited.
Epic for girls, After Earth for boys?
No comment.
The film's more straightforward.
Establishing a basic super-easy-to-follow far too predictable framework, whose truculent dimensions highlight the potential social impacts of an exhausted environment, it focuses intently on a fearless father (Will Smith) and his spirited son, the only survivors of a craft which crash lands on Earth centuries after humans were forced to flee.
The frame isn't necessarily a problem since After Earth's obviously made for a generalized teenage audience, and I liked the fear speech, but, apart from one scene which indicates that enormous buffaloesque herds have returned, I thought the futuristic depiction of Earth could have used more flora and fauna.
Perhaps due to Epic's contemporaneous release this feature was deliberately limited.
Epic for girls, After Earth for boys?
No comment.
Thursday, June 6, 2013
Jagten (The Hunt)
An asphyxiating altercating articulation of innocence incrementally fuels fratricidal flames until an upright loving gregarious educator's life lies holistically in ruin.
Thomas Vinterberg patiently and poignantly crafts a traumatic testament of angelic ostracization as a joyful lifelong friend slowly idealizes the abject.
The childlike recreational pursuits of a supportive communal cohesivity introduced at Jagten's (The Hunt's) outset haunts its terrorized reels in an acerbic antiseptic embodiment of consternated dramatic horror.
Nowhere to go.
No reason to run.
The truth's condemnatory instinct is diatonically disreputed as media sensations are pastorally localized.
Difficult and controversial subject matter.
A didactic tool designed to encourage pause and reflection in order to accentuate the right that one is innocent until proven guilty.
And what can happen if that guilt is assumed inveterately beforehand.
Thomas Vinterberg patiently and poignantly crafts a traumatic testament of angelic ostracization as a joyful lifelong friend slowly idealizes the abject.
The childlike recreational pursuits of a supportive communal cohesivity introduced at Jagten's (The Hunt's) outset haunts its terrorized reels in an acerbic antiseptic embodiment of consternated dramatic horror.
Nowhere to go.
No reason to run.
The truth's condemnatory instinct is diatonically disreputed as media sensations are pastorally localized.
Difficult and controversial subject matter.
A didactic tool designed to encourage pause and reflection in order to accentuate the right that one is innocent until proven guilty.
And what can happen if that guilt is assumed inveterately beforehand.
Monday, June 3, 2013
Mud
Innocent pluck tenderly, loyally, and brazenly clashes with his ideals as their real world applications resoundingly prove despairing.
Not that they aren't still omnipresent, as vital to those whose desires and incomes problematize their sustainability as to those whose iron will does not, uncompromised dedication liaising with starvation and prevarication to slowly devastate an unyielding devotion, destructive acts of retributive jealousy increasing in proportion with their subject's maniacal progressions, with no recourse to substantial alternative educational or economic detachments, to productively cover things up.
Mud's (Matthew McConaughey) love for Juniper (Reese Witherspoon) defines his sense of purpose as a career or a pastime might define another, and only after seeing his self naively rematerialized in the form of a 14-year-old risking everything to help him, does difference dawn.
Jeff Nichol's Mud ruggedly evaporates an accidental transient symbiotic bilateral pact, having uplifted both partners in its unwritten momentary apotheosis.
Seen through a child's eyes, many of the film's sequences are oversimplified.
Strength of character compensates.
Mandatory for lovers of romantic impoverished hard-hitting innovative coming of age bucolics.
Not that they aren't still omnipresent, as vital to those whose desires and incomes problematize their sustainability as to those whose iron will does not, uncompromised dedication liaising with starvation and prevarication to slowly devastate an unyielding devotion, destructive acts of retributive jealousy increasing in proportion with their subject's maniacal progressions, with no recourse to substantial alternative educational or economic detachments, to productively cover things up.
Mud's (Matthew McConaughey) love for Juniper (Reese Witherspoon) defines his sense of purpose as a career or a pastime might define another, and only after seeing his self naively rematerialized in the form of a 14-year-old risking everything to help him, does difference dawn.
Jeff Nichol's Mud ruggedly evaporates an accidental transient symbiotic bilateral pact, having uplifted both partners in its unwritten momentary apotheosis.
Seen through a child's eyes, many of the film's sequences are oversimplified.
Strength of character compensates.
Mandatory for lovers of romantic impoverished hard-hitting innovative coming of age bucolics.
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