Licorice Pizza

The motivations behind Paul Thomas Anderson's Licorice Pizza remain somewhat mysterious, and may depend upon whether or not he's friends with Quentin Tarantino. 

Mr. Tarantino is well-known and highly respected for making brainy yet sensual nostalgic metakitsch, that seeks to recapture a raw aesthetic that wildly flourished in yesteryear.

His devotion to the genres is quite commendable, and when it works, a film for the ages, at least I'll keep watching Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction, and Inglourious Basterds throughout my life, and will be up for checking out his other films one if not several more times, it's possible I missed something the first shocking run through.

With Licorice Pizza, Paul Thomas Anderson also seems to be seeking to resuscitate a bygone aesthetic, but it's difficult to determine if his attempt is genuine, in fact at times it seems as if he's subtly lampooning attempts to resuscitate bygone aesthetics themselves, unless I completely missed something, if this film's meant to be taken seriously, my apologies. 

I've missed new music in my life since the pandemic started and cut me off from my favourite festivals, I can always search for new music online, but I'm still kind of old school, I like to head out to find it.

The lack of new or old music I've never heard before in my life has made me highly susceptible to catchy songs I hear on television, even if at a later date I can't believe I was sucked in.

But that didn't happen with Licorice Pizza. It's soundtrack isn't classic Tarantino. I was confused by Bowie's Life on Mars which is an amazing song, but the rest of the music left me unimpressed, even though I'm highly susceptible. 

It made me think Anderson was deliberately choosing lacklustre songs to see if he could disingenuously stultify Tarantino's success, perhaps in relation to some harmless wager between the two, although it could also just be a simple matter of preference, but my sensors were somewhat bewildered, due to my heightened susceptibility. 

Some of the situations weren't particularly captivating as well, like struggling to find gas during a fuel crisis, or trying to sell waterbeds.

Was Anderson subtly lampooning an aesthetic he developed (I'm not that familiar with his films)?

The title also seems like something someone would come up with if they were trying to playfully criticize a technique or style they didn't genuinely respect, like something one of the male co-stars Anderson consistently critiques in the film for having no class would have come up with, and tried to laud as if it was something exceptionally astounding, which it isn't.

The ending's still quite well done, a traditional elevation of newfound love modestly blossoming amidst scandalous tomfoolery.

My apologies again if this was meant to be taken seriously.

Otherwise, a metacritical masterpiece.  

Vivat Ucraina libera et independent!

Živjela slobodna i neovisna Ukrajina!

Frisbee

Shrubs subsistin' swish succession

heliotropical addressin'

primrose paunchy parabolic

infinitesimal fin frolic

rigour roti chin up chortle 

merchandised elastic cordial

insufficient surplus standing 

improvised bemused glad-handing

thoughtful cruise hardworking day

slowly but surely paves the way

amused beriddled tang discernment 

topsy-turvy inadvertent 

sudden solemn hearty hush

lights out après imposing dusk

the mortal dreamlike revelations

exercising inundation 

snooze. 

La soupe aux choux (Cabbage Soup)

Two old school disputatious farmers resist postmodern technological developments, and live carefree as they always have down home and grouchy suspicious of change.

They maintain a fertile plot not too far away from the closest town, where they have somewhat of a reputation for bold naturalistic bucolic disarray.

One chill and typical evening they freely exchange rebellious thoughts, delicately guided by flatulent fervour as bold inspiration strikes, when the random generation of lightning suddenly shocks contemporaneously, followed by an alien shortly thereafter, hoping to make first contact.

Communication proves somewhat difficult due to interplanetary divergence, but the exotic scent of M. Ratinier's (Louis de Funès) cabbage soup soon grabs the alien's (Jacques Villeret) rapt attention.

Things return to normal the next day after his swift departure, although the police must patiently entertain many wild stories concerning bright lights.

But the visits continue in search of knowledge and those who cast off every nuance of contemporary life, must come to terms with radical advancements intricately engineered in space itself!

The result is generally heartwarming as absurd independence thrives through reward, and is provided with everything its neighbours seek without having done anything to succeed or prosper.

Although within their scant exaggerations they still comprehend sociocultural rootiments, which progressively facilitate intergalactic uproar, and newfound extraterrestrial resonance.

Who's to say what's to be shared with visiting aliens should they journey to Earth, with millions of potential imaginative cues it's difficult to say what's to be showcased?

I would probably mention craft beer to be appreciatively consumed in moderation, along with nutritious cheese accompanied by fruit and pieces of bread.

I may also recommend literature and film by promoting a well-balanced approach, the perusal of clever dramas and enticing science-fiction at times contradicted by not-so-serious comedies. 

Would my humble and generous gifts perhaps lead them to share the secrets of space travel, provided without much encumbering cost, along with a vast network of inhabited worlds?

I can't say for certain if that would come to pass, but why not dream of sundry potential outcomes?

Like Jean Girault did when he made La soupe aux choux (Cabbage Soup),

A lighthearted piece of endearing diplomacy.  

Éljen a szabad és függetien Ukrajna!

Naj živi svobodna in neodvisna Ukrajina!

The Power of the Dog

Inherited prestige respectfully maintained calm settled prudence rambunctious accord, the arduous management of a prosperous ranch producing tensions through divisional labour.

The less gifted compassionate brother humbly seeks the domestic life (Jesse Plemons as George Burbank), and finds himself smitten with a hardworking lass who successfully runs her own popular business (Kirsten Dunst as Rose Gordon).

The other bro is habitually suspicious of any glad-handing enamoured newcomer (Benedict Cumberbatch as Phil Burbank [outstanding performance]), and prefers rough and tumble emphatically coarse hands-on physical quotidian forays.

But marriage soon dawns and with it not only a new likely permanent intelligent influence, but also a shy otherworldly distraction who makes a poor fit with bellicose life.

The productive bower audaciously enlightening belligerent desires for risk and privation, must suddenly accept appeasing elements which may even at times utter contradiction.

But even more, there's a nerve-racking secret that could incite revolt upon their orderly lands.

Or lead to comic disorganization.

Or catastrophic open truths.

It's a haunting solemn new age Western thoughtfully investigating masculine culture, from complementary bucolic perspectives, that have severely re-emerged as of late.

A way of life whose requisite content has not doubt mutated hectically for millennia, still embodies formalities immemorial assertively nuanced in varying degrees.

George takes the logical approach wisely accepting the rigid code, while leaving room for something more that may also integrate feminine cultivation.

Strength is a relative term and has myriad applications beyond what you can lift.

Why embrace strenuous impediments?

When there are so many new developments to ease your burdens!

A way of life I suppose, it's tough to give things up, especially if they're psychologically associated with good times from your youth, and corresponding senses of invincibility. 

Trying new things can help establish new paths to explore and consider, however.

While at times old methods hold true.

Nothing like a bit of old school trial and error.

Blended with postmodern reliability. 

Nech žije slobodná a nezávislá Ukrajina!

Ať žije svobodná a nezávislá Ukrajina!

Fortitude

Goodbye old friend, you're on the mend

your newfound spirit so intense

transcendent vast enlightenment

enriching insteller zen

recall with genuine surplus

your chill do-gooding impetus

the daily grind felicitous

lighthearted haste without a fuss

I trust you're warmly settling in

relaxed laidback ze seraphim 

your work rewarded à la fin

soulful supported permanent 

I'll miss the sundry tasty treats 

worldwide homemade banquet cuisine

and conversation tough yet sweet

so irreplaceably upbeat

a tragedy.

Battle Beyond the Stars

A peaceful world universally renowned for its lighthearted communal levity, is suddenly threatened with total destruction, by a lethal tyrant and his mutant army, who possesses a formidable weapon. 

The planet lacks technological distinction but at one time created a ship, to explore the surrounding stars with inquisitive pluck and attuned recognition. 

In their darkest hour of woe of young adventurer commands this vessel (Richard Thomas as Shad), and sets out in search of mercenaries to defend them from the ruthless Sador (John Saxon). 

His courageous exploration is soon audaciously rewarded, as he's able to find able bodied romantics eager to fight a hopeless battle.

Even though scant retribution can be fortuitously paid, they fight resolutely with stalwart will for resounding intergalactic accolades. 

A curious cast of alien life is correspondingly assembled, from diverse realms with eclectic creeds vigorously applied to the newfound mission.

Not to mention inchoate love hectically maturing in the heat of battle.

For two brave modest souls.

Attuned to devout strife.

Playful sci-fi often flops but you could do worse than Battle Beyond the Stars, whose mischievous investigative libido strives in bold rambunctious posture.

Heavily influenced by Star Wars not to mention Star Trek and Seven Samurai, it still brazenly crafts a randy wide-eyed contumacious original vortex.

It plays clever tricks with expectations at times, notably the potential Cantina-like homage, which turns out to be a generally deserted planet, Jimmy T. Murakami 1, J.J.Abrams, 0.

From ceremonious synthetics to vehement Valkyries, Murakami reconstructs the imagination in space, I applaud his bold respect for Seven Samurai, not easy to pull off forlorn amongst the stars.

I searched to find an article claiming that most of the actors from Battle Beyond had had guest Star Trek appearances. I didn't find one (boring!). Levels of postmodern nerd-dom still haven't reached ecstatic heights! 

Sometimes, every scene within a film takes on a lifeforce of its own, the accumulated resonance of the trails and errors constituently reverberating notwithstanding.

For fans of alternative sci-fi I'd say Battle Beyond the Stars can't be missed.

Awkward. Innocent. Daring. Uncanny.

Why not throw in some mutants?

Can't speak to its lasting influence. 

*Here's a cool list of celebrity guest star appearances on Star Trek.

Niech żyje wolna i neipodległa Ukraina!

 Is fada beo an Úcráin saor in aisce agus neamhspleách!

Greatly saddened by the passing of a close friend.

She was always there with a kind word and generally encouraged fun when I was visiting.

She will be dearly missed.

😢😢😢😢

Belfast

I've always loved the scene in Doctor Zhivago when Yuri Andreyevich is asked how he'll live within the newly formed Soviet Union, and he simply states something like, "[I'll] just live".

You see he isn't seriously interested in politics or religion or ideology or revolution, but rather just in simply living a quiet life with friends and family.

Such peaceful ambitions in volatile times permeate much of Belfast's learning, as it generally focuses on three generations of a loving family from Northern Ireland.

It's sweet and tender, wild and forthright, innocent and wise, confused yet earnest, as its characters attempt to simply live surrounded by shortsighted religious tension.

If you've ever wondered how life persists when dangerous idiocy turns culturally violent, I'd argue Kenneth Branagh's heartfelt Belfast is a superlative exemplar.

Plus, if you happened to have watched Branagh's Henry V when you were in high school, and felt cool when after 15 minutes or so you generally understood the language, and then thought he was one of the coolest directors around, and then waited for years, while generally enjoying his films, for that one that stood out as a genuine artistic masterpiece, unconcerned with status or popularity, just overflowing with artistic soul, look no further than his brilliant Belfast, a potential companion piece for Doctor Zhivago.

I guess I never mentioned that my father was a religious man, who attended mass practically every Sunday of his life. It gave him a general sense of peace and calm and when the pandemic prevented him from going, he lost his life.

My father was a religious man but he wasn't strict or nutty or ridiculous, he still believed in medical science and evolution and even loved great writing and argument (like other friends I've known who are religious).

Unlike austere religious people, he made you feel welcome within the church, and didn't judge or critique or fear you because you were different or strange or inquisitive.

I think about the church at times but apart from dad, there's been a lot of disillusion, and I generally prefer how things are done in Québec, where science actually makes prayers happen.

That's just me though, I'm not here to judge, but I really don't get it when religions start fighting, especially different denominations within the same religion, it seems incredibly foolish, not to mention, totally nuts.

So many productive lives ruined.

In the name of saviours who preached peace.

I'm old enough to accept that it happens but I'll never make peace with such reckless idiocy.

Belfast is a must see film.

The pursuit of life beyond disparate violence. 

Another incredible first round of the NHL playoffs. 

Amazing even.

Amazing for long suffering Florida Panthers fans. I remember when they made their cup run in 95/96. Didn't think it would take so long to win another playoff series!

C'est la vie.

Looking forward to another classic Battle of Alberta. It's been so long. Again, amazing.

I've also heard that the Toronto Maple Leafs are considering moving to Saskatoon where it's thought they may win a playoff series at some point in the next decade. I only heard that while making it up in my head. 

But why? 

Why can't they win!?

😠

*Thank heavens for the Raptors and Habs!

**Raptors and Habs!!

Lengi lifi hið frjálsa og sjálfstæða Úkraína!

Saddened by the recent passing of Fred Ward.

I loved many of his performances in my childhood.

🗽

Lenge leve det frie og uavhengige Ukraina!

Lattice

Terafractal Inconclusive

byzantine baroque elusive

asymmetrical aversion

virtual arrhythmic gherkin

abstract void haywire consistent

redolent respire persistent

honky lyrical reflection

unempirical selection

radial rhizome erratic

rooty xylophone zematic

troubadour protracting prism

proto patchwork paroxysm 

driven nondescript verbatim

vessels neologic mayhem

wishing that had made more sense

although I shan't critique lament

neuroses. 

Houseguest

A young ideas man diligently dreams about a much larger monthly income (Sinbad as Kevin Franklin), invariably believing he'll find a way to conceptually cash in.

Un/fortunately, this habitually leads to difficulties paying his bills, since the working world consistently eludes him as he haphazardly seeks instantaneous riches. 

Due to his lack of funds, he decides to borrow from alternative sources, who send their goons a' rambunctiously calling after he fails to pay off his debt.

They're also outrageously charging an unattainable extra 45,000$, which leads to an impromptu departure for the nearby local airport.

As fate would have it, a suburban success happens to be awaiting an old friend as he dips and dodges (Phil Hartman as Gary Young), an old friend whom he no longer recognizes after a 25 year interlude before social media.

Kevin claims to be the old school friend and soon he's resting safe in the 'burbs, with his own room and hot meals no less, and the family's unconditional trust.

He presents an alternative disposition on festive occasions and in general conversation, to the one their neighbours are used to, although the shocks are intriguingly harmless.

But he lets a close friend know of his whereabouts with the goons still eagerly searching. 

Will they expose his endearing ruse?

And force him to work for a living.

Had he been less of a romantic his expedient mendacity may have inspired concern, for seeing the heartfelt efforts of the kind and well-meaning taken advantage of can be unnerving.

But he wasn't about to generate offhand long-lasting disingenuous schisms, at least not after hanging out for awhile, and starting to seek genuine friendship.

I imagine if no one wanted to work the maintenance of some infrastructure or other would prove disastrous, and preponderant chaotic uncertainty would wildly reign with emphatic triumph. 

But why should so many spend so much time working while so many others have nothing to do, the latent desire to freely laze about not the exclusive psychology of the rich and famous.

A popular idea espoused by many which still passionately persists this postmodern day (although you rarely hear about it), and brought about constructive socioeconomic developments like the 40 hour work week, sick days, and vacation pay.

It seems like a friendly compromise since there's work but also time for family.

Infrastructures will no doubt endure.

As should the practice of adopting houseguests.

Eläköön vapaa ja itsenäinen Ukraina!

Länge leve det fria och oberoende Ukraina!

Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas

Two friends choose a different path upon the raging seven seas, one upholding peace and spellbound honour, the other engaged in piracy.

They meet one fateful day when a mythical beast attacks one of their ships, as the other tries to rob it, he's after the seminal Book of Peace.

As is the covetous Goddess of Chaos (Michelle Pfeiffer as Eris) who has to admit she finds Sinbad (Brad Pitt) attractive, so adorable she maddeningly establishes a series of treacherous tests for him and his crew.

But first she disguises herself as Sinbad and lets herself be seen stealing the Book from Syracuse, where nobles have gathered from across the land(?) to take in its ethereal wisdom.

Sinbad swears, "'twas not I", but the royalty stubbornly refuse to believe him, and sentence him to a violent death, from which there's no escape.

Unless his childhood friend (Joseph Fiennes as Proteus) should agree to take his forlorn place, and triumphantly await his valiant return from the Realm of Chaos with the Book.

Accompanying him on the journey is Proteus's illustrious betrothéd (Catherine Zeta-Jones as Marina), whom Sinbad's loved since the moment he first saw her, so many years ago.

Thus should one consider honour he or she will find it on display, in this bold and virtuous undertaking known as Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas.

Purists may critique the interpretive flair presumed to adjust the recourse to legend, but who's to say with authentic pluck what really took place so long ago?

If perhaps concerned with specific volumes canonically upheld as verifiable postage, a difference of opinion may sapiently simmer, but the film was made when the '90s still held sway (2003), and there were so many multitudinous creative ruptures. 

I can't say I kept in touch with currents and trends for the past 20 years, as their vicissitudes mutated into newfound critical and philosophical voyages.

It seems that relativity no longer holds sway however as an advisor may have mentioned, even though ethically and experientially it makes more sense than other less inclusive strategies. 

It was always generally heartwarming to think historical figures were being lightheartedly re-imagined, but it seems like perhaps the purists are still intent on re-establishing a more rigid code.

With Putin on the warpath there's no mistaking absolutist pretensions. 

Trump, the Plague, Putin.

Why ever leave the island of Montréal?

Note: I'm sad to see the Raptors didn't make it farther into the NBA playoffs this year, but I was still super happy to see they had made the playoffs at all, after losing Lowry, Leonard, Green, Gasol, Powell, and Ibaka (how is that possible?).  That's coaching from Nick Nurse and all-star determination from Siakam, VanVleet, and the rest of the team. Hoping they improve a lot next year. But still happy to see how well they did this year.

Raptors!

Happy Mother's Day to the millions of dedicated caring Moms out there!

Where would I ever have been without your kindhearted loving guidance?!

🥀😻🥰🎇 

Pigment

Rarefied extemporary

random reified contrary

quizzical infatuation

literary contemplation

'beit highly disproportioned 

in exorbitant contortions

temperamental transcendental 

deconstructions quintessential 

mental tapestries detected

improvised discursive metrics

latitude lopsidedly 

narrated surreptitiously 

debris boldly interconnected

epic shorelines zoned eclective 

jetsam jaunts judicious jerky

dazed unfiltered fecund quirky

helion.

Big Top Pee-wee

Immoderately immersed in mirthful grand performance, Pee-wee (Paul Reubens) sleeps the sleep of angels, peacefully awaiting another day, after having taken up farming.

Things run smoothly throughout the day as he cares for his many animals, who enjoy beneficial loving novel caring warm down home attention. 

Pee-wee also conducts advanced research into curious crop cultivation, having created an experimental formula which smoothly encourages rapt abundance. 

Unfortunately, he's not well-liked by the suspicious surrounding townsfolk, who critique his unorthodox ways and general flip alternative wherewithal.

They're even less impressed when a mighty storm blows a circus to town, which lands on Pee-wee's farm, and decides to put on a striking spectacle. 

Pee-wee makes new human and animal friends as the artists passionately rehearse, and even finds himself enamoured with a newfound trapeze expert (Valeria Golino as Ms. Piccolapupula).

But will Pee-wee's heartfelt accommodation be enough to encourage the distressed townsfolk, to abandon their strict routines for a night out under the nearby big top?

So much time spent trying to logically deal with rational exploits reasonably accrued, that impromptu absurd acrobatics present odd vital sincere parity.

Not just the hotdog tree or the supple pioneering pig (Wayne White as Vance), but the lucid sense of compelling wonder that drives wild ludicrous imagination.

Perhaps they shouldn't be in charge of stern prosaic determinate consistencies, so much requisite quotidian reckoning modestly attuned to predictability. 

But shouldn't such manifest grain not be adorned with counterbalancing nuance, to promote extemporaneous serendipity at times throughout the working day?

Thus as the routine despairing delineations approach concrete banal immutabilities, the bizarre shocks and unsettles somnambulism to sustain lighthearted active metamorphosis.

Just as it's nice to have reliable routines when shocks turn to harrowing frights, responsibilities generating forthright designations seasonally aligned to nurture balance.

Big Top Pee-wee brings these spectrums together in animate judicious active definition, to demonstrate holistic productive health, thoroughly enriched through compassionate understanding.

As unequivocal rewards endearingly impact age old ambivalent inquisitive uncertainties, the wolf howls and the dragonfly zings with erudite sonorous sprightly melody. 

Like Dale Cooper's daily treat it can be something never encountered before.

Beware if it happens to be smoking.

Even 4 months later, it's tough to quit.

Længe leve det frie og uafhængige Ukraine!

L'Atalante

A lonesome ship captain (Jean Dasté as Jean) finds himself a daring bride (Dita Parlo as Juliette), who courageously agrees to move onboard without a confusing hassle. 

Wedded bliss initially abounds as they travel from port to port, stopping in different cities and towns to embrace the local culture.

The first mate's a gentle eccentric who's found a niche to creatively conjure (Michel Simon as Le père Jules), the chill and abiding distracted captain having no problem with all of his cats.

When at sea he playfully finds various ways to amuse and entertain, while instructing the other members of the crew, at times even causing mischief. 

Unless otherwise afflicted he freely engages with wondrous vigour, curious to see what tradespeople showcase in their different shops when browsing ashore.

His carefree life is abruptly unhinged, however, when the captain erupts in a jealous fury, after his wife goes shopping alone without having told him where she's going.

The ship departs without belovéd focus in a callous reckless rage, the bride confused and emphatically crestfallen when unsuspectingly remerging.

It's up to le père Jules to reunite them (and save their jobs) if tidings be.

His merriment thrust afoul.

He departs for search and rescue.

At times your diligence is rewarded with an unexpected brilliant trajectory, overflowing with convivial abundance thoroughly enriched by awestruck tremors.

Le père Jules is one such exemplar and Jean Vigo's L'Atalante one such film, with innate incomparable gravitational intensity delicately nurturing improvisation.

It's always a  mistake to imagine the present as holding an unparalleled take on originality, not that novel films and books don't reside within, but other epochs also flourished creatively.

Perhaps Jules was inspired by one of Dickens's many compelling eccentrics, I really can't say, but he's the earliest example of a virtuous rogue I think I've ever encountered in cinema (1934).

It would be cool to work on a boat but what's even more, a boat full of cats, on top of that, a room full of oddities randomly acquired from around the globe.

Fully capable in times of trouble at others much too agéd to take things seriously, Jules has become one of my favourite fictional characters, in his travelling home upon the sea.

Well deserving of a remake in different languages in different countries, I wholeheartedly recommend the joyous L'Atalante to celebrate chill ideas and endearing personality. 

It's been wonderful to hear compelling tales about Guy Lafleur's life on and off the ice for the last week or so. Universally belovéd. Fare thee well in the next life!

Zito i eléftheri kai anexártiti Oukranía!

Viva l'Ucraina libera e indipendente!