Tuesday, January 17, 2017

Collateral Beauty

I suspect there's a prominent subculture that likes Hallmark cards and regularly exchanges them in order to express feelings of enduring love.

Subculture may be the wrong word to be using here.

No no no, they don't take the time to meticulously itemize the sundry ways in which a partner has disappointed them over the course of the last month, year, weekend, Festivus whispering, having realized that many people don't appreciate the comedic value of such clarifications and would rather simply be applauded.

Persona non grata.

Yet it seems that if everyone were to systematically express their mutual contempt ritualistically, disorganization may in fact destabilize the smooth innocuous flow of cultural codes, cultural goods, meaning that perhaps vitriolic proclamations of amour should be sequestered for the intemperate few, as they begrudgingly accept that they do indeed have feelings.

Reprieved.

They likely didn't think highly of Collateral Beauty either, even if it was overflowing with abundant goodwill and wholesome adorable tearjerks.

It does use swearing quite effectively if that counts for anything, situating the profane word within an exasperated exclamation with perfect sober timing, such a stark contrast from the preceding cuddles, repressed helplessness shockingly manifested.

Ah, so, if you're wondering why you don't like Collateral Beauty and its exceptional cast, you can at least think, there's some great swearing.

The ending's quite touching too.

Like cotton candy.

Hallmark cotton candy.

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