Come and See

One of the most blunt traumatic films to ever illustrate Nazi World War II horrors, Elem Klimov's Come and See cacophonously presents sheer total war.

Seen through the eyes of a child who dreams of heroically saving his country, the horrifying effects of what he encounters enough to debilitate the strongest man (or woman).

He's left behind after being recruited since his boots fit an older soldier, so he makes the trip back home only to find his family has been slaughtered.

With another orphan he gradually makes the awkward journey to a secret hideaway, where they team up with humble survivors who are desperately struggling to find food.

He then heads out with some brave citizens to find supplies to ease their hunger, but the older individuals are soon shot down and he's eventually captured by the Nazis.

Who then take the citizens of another town and cruelly lock them in a barn.

Which they proceed to light on fire.

The boy narrowly escaping.

There's a visceral haunting grotesque evil effectively showcased in Come and See, which doesn't shy away from directly depicting the inherent terror of unleashed fascism.

As the monsters who wickedly believe they're the master race destroy and devastate, their sick malevolent point of view is thoroughly disputed and castrated.

The film isn't an exaggeration they murdered and butchered unarmed civilians like this, and sent many of the survivors to death camps where they fruitlessly laboured without end.

Such an ideology motivates psychotics who want to viciously and dismally demonstrate, that the openminded collective free world was unfortunately unable to vanquish hatred (it seemed so plausible before the internet).

And just as the Nazis terrorized the Soviet Union Russia currently attacks Ukraine, the victim so obsessed with its once hopeless position that it despicably embraces the oppressor's logic. 

If you want to see the fascist end game watch Come and See in stoic shock, and look on as people who could have been friends are wildly reduced to pestiferous ruin.

It angers up the blood and leaves one more determined than ever.

To embrace the olive branch. 

And stop such things from happening.

Django Unchained

Easy to write about this film it is not.

I heard Sheldon Cooper (Jim Parsons) quoting Nietzsche during an episode of The Big Bang Theory the other night, and his point considered morality to be a barrier which prevents truly 'great' persons from attaining their full potential, since it requires that they conform to the standards adopted by common people. I tend not to see it that way myself. It seems to me that morality is often denied common people, depending on their financial circumstances, and, due to the significant economic advantages attained by the überwealthy, and the accompanying capitalistic social reverence, that morality is reserved for plutocrats and oligarchs, at least in terms of settling legal disputes (I don't know which thinker to attribute this idea to so I'm going with Leonard [Johnny Galecki]). There's a lot more to it than that, but this can obviously be frustrating and it's within this disenfranchised brutal frustrating ethical frame that Quentin Tarantino's Django Unchained cataclysmically reacts, his undeniable parageneric ingenuity once again limitlessly unleashed, although not as consistently as it has been in the past.

The same incomparable skill for creating iconic heroes and villains is at work, and since nothing is held back, both sides accumulate plenty of critical ammunition, accentuated by his requisite offbeat sensational ludicrous treacherous altruistic asymmetrical logical arsenal, although some of the (crackpot) theories, phrenology for instance, could have possibly been left out altogether.

Giving a voice to such ugly historical phenomenons and making that voice extremely detestable causes the theories themselves to come across as reprehensibly as they should, and it's not like racist lunatics don't still blindly believe in them; and applying restraints to the exhibition of ideas is anti-democratic, although such ideas themselves are extremely anti-democratic and are still being virtuosically displayed.

It's a bit unsettling.

The resultant graphic constant death also unsettles while begging a comparison to several prominent cartoons which regularly use such devices.

Organized fighting and sports are obviously going to be violent and provide a necessary supervised outlet for such tendencies.

It's the constant graphic choreographed extended hopeless brutality that sets Django Unchained (and Archer and South Park) apart from these realities, offering a sadistic carnal sick ostentatious fantasy, for those who regularly act according to social conventions, yet often feel as if or are deprived of moral compensation.

I love Quentin Tarantino's films but it's tough to watch enslaved grown men fight to the death, then see another torn apart by dogs, and another almost undergo castration.

The film's lighthearted comedic dimension complicates things further.

The Hunger Games

Suppose most people are familiar with what happens in The Hunger Games so I won't spend too much time expanding upon the plot.

An uprising was launched by 12 impoverished districts which was crushed by the powers-that-be. In the aftermath, in order to brutally humiliate their subjects even further, they then created the Hunger Games, a competition wherein a youthful male and female representative from each district is selected to take part in a vicious fight to the death.

24 combatants are chosen and by the end only one remains.

The combatants, referred to as tributes, travel to the capital where they're elaborately decked out and paraded in front of the well-to-do in an ancient romanesque spectacle that's designed to showcase the oppressed and impress potential sponsors. These sponsors can provide you with assistance during the Games thereby enhancing your chances of survival. Ratings are provided to each contestant and they have their chance to prove their worth in front of a select group of interested parties and on television as well.

President Snow (Donald Sutherland) makes it clear that the Games were designed to instil a sense of hope within his destitute subjects, a sense that even though your chances of survival are slim, you still might win and be showered with riches forever after.

Obviously the hope he intends to cultivate isn't seen quite so romantically by the citizens of the districts.

Or the participants of the Hunger Games.

But those who have lucratively profited by the current composition of the state cheer and laugh at the hopeless in a disgusting exercise of affluent vanity.

Refusing to participate in the Hunger Games ensures your death.

Participating in the Hunger Games almost assuredly ensures your death.

So you have an extremist government that castigates the poor and suppresses any form of rational descent, demanding strict obedience to its self-serving whims and designs. Its supporters revel in the bloodthirsty celebration and the families of the participants forlornly sit back and watch.

But sponsors can assist you, give you critical support if you put on a good show.

Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence) and Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson) put on the best show they possibly can.

By falling in love.

Love in its true form enables them to change the rules of the game to the vouchsafed delight of their begrudgingly suppliant benefactors.

Thereby suggesting that true love saturated with sacrifice can momentarily defeat the agents of tyranny.

Or that true love fictions are at the heart of the tyrannical enterprise.

Working within a sensationalist frame to provoke a tear jerking deconstructive critical strike disseminating subliminal democratic aftershocks.

Perhaps I expanded upon the plot ad nauseum.

I can't figure out if the end justifies the means.