Orlando

What one gains to live forever without aging amongst the royals, while perennially persisting in novel light of heart heuristics. 

Through non-determinate trail and error Orlando (Tilda Swinton) learns of love and politics, like a youngster dabbling in frisk and fancy with everlasting inhibition. 

Not that everyone's at play the social lab invokes decorum, but as time passes new tasks emerge mischievously befitting a young immortal.

Orlando the film generates true innocence ironically immersed in frayed executive, eager to dally forlorn forever while at times taking part commissioned commanding.

The typical tropes you find in narratives concerned with living forever can't be found, as Orlando frolics through the centuries with jocose beam and slight expenditure.

Thus, concerns with true romance and personal loss don't fit within, not that there aren't moments of genuine displeasure along with strong desires fawned unrequited.

Perhaps it's supposed to be much more serious I'm afraid I just can't view it that way, Swinton's simply just too adorable and seems at home at rest at play.

I've had this problem with les adorables who as a metaphysical rule loathe as I admire, thus I've had to abandon the practise altogether in terms of circumspect affection.

It was the same way with pets when I was a kid, I would try to hug them and they'd bite me.

Relationships must be easy since so many people have them.

It'd be nice to have more money.

But other people have the worst taste in everything! 😜

It's cool to see Orlando isn't fraught with studious indelicacy, and her immortality isn't feared or hated as she travels throughout the centuries. 

Why she doesn't travel to the northern forests of Canada and Québec to make a home remains a mystery, she could have watched the wildlife for 100 years and still have spent another 1,000 shopping.

But she loves her gloomy homeland with all its rain and absent bears, are there any major forests left in Britain?, I heard they recently brought back beavers.

A cool companion piece for Highlander, Orlando proceeds with judicious humour, like an earnest library patron who spends their life enjoying stories.

S/he's living them however which does seem like quite the nuisance.

Role playing, expectations.

Disproportionately fashionable.

Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls

After the calamitous passing of a stalwart raccoon brother, Ace Ventura (Jim Carrey) despondently retires, taking up residence far off in an isolated Tibetan monastery, he settles inconsolable, while ruffling many a feather.

But his services are required in remote Nibia in the not so distant future, at the request of the concerned consul Vincent Cadby (Simon Callow), the monks grant him swift departure, bewildered go-between Fulton Greenwall (Ian McNeice) rather confused by his behaviour.

His assignment is to locate a sacred white bat known as Shikaka of the Wachati tribe, who is being offered as their Princess's dowry, as she prepares to wed a Wachootoo Prince.

The Wachootoo are none too amused by the unexplained disappearance, and threaten war to air their grievances, the Wachati much less prone to violence.

Ace has no leads no clues yet still proceeds with bold determination, vigorously applying his uncanny methods with pejorative pressure and erratic schism.

Enter the playful unpredictable with exuberant athletic jocose alarm.

Can't believe I never saw this in my youth.

Even if some films get better with age.

If you're looking for improvised mad unruly rowdy raunchy conglomerates, randomly exerting recalcitrant remonstrance, through unabashed gaseous discerning repartee, Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls offers reckless cheek unclouded unbound, services required, services rendered, with grand eccentric revelry.

The ways in which he ignores so much of what people say and transforms every encounter into an obnoxious farce, efficaciously deconstructs fussiness with counterintuitive constructive chaos.

If you love animals it's a must see, especially for the joyous concluding moments, wherein which trophy hunting is resoundingly beat down, by ecstatic health and wellness.

It's also hilarious, I laughed out loud several times, that doesn't happen often anymore, it felt amazing, it's just so much fun to watch serious people try to work with him, as he jettisons rarefied irreverence. 

But it does go too far I'm afraid, I was surprised to see it suddenly make light, of the ways in which European diseases and viruses killed so many Indigenous peoples, that joke should have been left out.

Ace goes off-roading through the jungle too, destroying a lot of delicate flora along the way, it just seemed odd for someone who cares about wildlife so much to destructively smother it with a huge machine.

These moments don't ruin the film but they were somewhat shocking and inconsiderate nonetheless.

Ventura's rebelliousness knows no bounds.

But at times exceeds even outrageous incredulity. 

Amistad

The 19th century.

A group of slaves being transported at sea courageously revolts and takes control of the vessel.

Unfamiliar with nautical logistics, they rely on two former captors to sycophantically steer, but weeks later provisions grow slim, and they're forced to gather fresh supplies on land.

They weren't being led back to Africa as promised, and are soon detected by the American navy, who imprisons them as runaway slaves, thinking their bondage was secured legally.

At the time, Britain has nobly outlawed slavery but Spain still permits human trafficking, the Spanish crown seeking to reobtain what it claims is its property, the Americans confused by conflicting demands.

If the individuals whose freedom has been denied turn out to have been born in a Spanish country, they then belong to the Spanish crown, or the scoundrels who acquired them on its behalf, and, unfortunately, there's little the abolitionists can do.

But since they were illegally obtained in Africa their rights to freedom have been scurrilously denied.

But their lawyer needs to prove they came from Africa.

And he can't speak their language.

It takes quite some time in fact before they find someone who can, and even with the reliable African testimony, the Africans still have to prove their innocence three times.

Amistad covers a lot of ground as it champions liberty and freedom, intertwining multiple diverse threads as it weaves a compelling plot.

The independence of the American courts is analyzed through political intrigue, since the freedom of the wrongfully enslaved Africans will enrage the American South.

President Van Buren (Nigel Hawthorne) is worried about losing the next election, but also about starting a civil war, so he interferes behind the scenes, although he thankfully can't guarantee specific outcomes.

The abolitionists approach Christianity with open-minded considerate impacts, religion at times an instrument of persecution, here it pursues social justice.

Amistad is at its best as lawyer Roger Sherman Baldwin (Matthew McConaughey) gets to know his clients, notably the feisty Cinque (Djimon Hounsou), who led the sublime revolt in question.

As they slowly learn to communicate a world of enriching ideas opens up, Baldwin interested in learning about African customs, Cinque generally frustrated by appellate courts.

Kindness and understanding guide Amistad's resiliency, as it concentrates on compassionate endeavours, interwoven into a practical dynamic.

Its graphic depiction of slavery's innate horrors encourage impassioned just pursuits.

Difficult to imagine anyone could have ever treated people that way.

Amistad successfully assails such injustice.

*Billions of animals still suffer from much worse circumstances around the world. The abuse inflicted is horrifying. I'm glad so many people are trying to change things.

Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence

*Not really a Christmas film.

World War II, in Java, British soldiers languish in a POW camp, their captors unaccustomed to European sensibilities, alternative discipline drilling irate tact.

Secluded from the war, or at least not engaging in direct combat, acquaintances develop through mutual boredom, the cultural clash as fascinating as it is disruptive, provocative argument begetting grand decorum.

The British Colonel's (Jack Thompson as Hicksley) generally stubborn and resentful of his inert command, ill-attuned to sycophantic flexibility, and the disrespect it entails.

But Lieutenant Colonel Lawrence (Tom Conti) appeals to humanistic reason and attempts to ease their deprivations, engaging the curiosity of the opposing side, who even consults him at times.

A new prisoner is sent to camp who's much more contentious than the Colonel or his Lieutenant, perhaps they fought like him when they arrived, yet eventually lost their bold ambition (David Bowie as Major Celliers). 

He introduces flowers and jaunty disarray.

Having barely escaped a firing squad.

Lt. Colonel Lawrence loves him. 

The result's somewhat discontinuous as the narrative ebbs and flows, grim dastardly acculturation diplomatically strung through patchwork. 

Such content aptly asserts earnest independence struggling and stifled, neither side able to generate consistency, hence disgruntled cropped themes.

It's like peace trying to break through during cataclysmic epochs, at times making genuine progress, at others lost and lounging.

As Lawrence converses with jailers and guards thoughtful cultural exchanges take place, conflicting political viewpoints accentuating alternatives, while generating oddball friendship.

The film's grim, lighthearted, revolting, evocative, collegial, heroic, and pressing, poetic I suppose in a nutshell, wave upon wave of distressful import. 

More people like Lawrence would be a good thing with a move away from the coercive absolute.

The spirit of giving and sympathy.

Mutually constructive pause. 

The Journey

A bold impromptu countryside drive bears diplomatic fruit in Nick Hamm's The Journey, as two polar opposites combatively discuss Northern Ireland's historic divisions along the way.

One is as unyielding in his convictions as he is appealing (to his flock) in his integrity, a cold hard person of the cloth who cites scripture like he's exhaling the divine to justify whatever it is he happens to be upholding/considering/refuting/condemning.

The other's less austere, a person of the world who's made tough decisions to challenge unsettling realities. He's tired of fighting and seeks a mutually beneficial resolution, a tie that binds, an end to the bloodshed.

The tension's thick as they depart side by side to travel to the airport, but the ostensibly naive inquiries of an undercover chauffeur slowly but surely facilitate dialogue.

Obviously enough, it's difficult to have a conversation when a participant is unwilling, when someone trades jibes and insults rather than reflections and well-reasoned respectful counterpoints.

Martin McGuinness (Colm Meaney) isn't easily dissuaded, however, and his resourceful concerned conciliatory olive branch gradually impresses the much older Ian Paisley (Timothy Spall).

What follows is a light but sturdy passionate yet restrained account of a brilliant diplomatic act, of a political synthesis replete with sympathy and understanding that significantly changed things and reunited integrities estranged.

Inspirational.

The ideological and the practical ingeniously combined, Northern Ireland's example as presented in The Journey provides leaders of all stripes with constructive hands on principles which can promote consensus as opposed to carnage, community rather than chaos.

A tiny country isolated on the edge of Europe which found a working solution so many more cosmopolitan realms never seem to discover, the lasting peace which McGuinness and Paisley embraced resolutely resonates to this day.

As many others have pointed out, the study of history is integral to a nation's identity, but bearing grudges about things that happened long ago can clog things up in the present until there's absolutely no moving forward, history blindly and stubbornly obscuring innovation.

Cynicism breeds contempt if not romance, contempt fosters alienation if not community.

If politicians can constructively clarify innovations at any given moment, contemporary conceptions can progressively promote change, as long as there's a willingness for different cultures to make concessions, or simply recognize the potential of how truly wonderful things can be.

Unfortunately, that's too easy, according to my rudimentary understanding of cultural obsessions with novelty.

Too predictable, too boring.

Perhaps you need that wild unpredicted spontaneous stroke of heuristic genius that brought Northern Ireland together to encourage cultural respect amongst peoples.

Or perhaps peoples really do respect one another as long as tensions aren't politically riled up every six months or so.

That could be it.

À la poursuite de la paix (In the Pursuit of Peace)

I love this style of film, documentaries that unpretentiously take a tiny slice of life and turn it into something compelling, instructive, global, just by directly laying down the facts, presenting a case without condemning its alternative, understanding the reasons why conflict abounds while attempting to find ways to decrease violence, modestly acting in the interests of diplomacy, bold and self-sacrificing calm caring camaraderie.

Peace, peace of mind.

À la poursuite de la paix (In the Pursuit of Peace) examines volatile situations in war torn regions of Iraq, the Democratic Republic of Congo, South Sudan, and Kurdistan, where ethnic cleansing has torn families and communities apart, giving the survivors justifiable reasons to seek vengeance, although seeking that vengeance only ensures infinite destruction.

The courageous grassroots diplomats who travel to these regions to act as arbitrators of peace do so with neither weapons nor aggrandizing interests.

They're looking to negotiate peace between warring neighbours, help people find food and medical aid, share ideas that encourage healing and well-being, do what they can to end the cycle of violence.

It's one thing to enter a combat zone as a soldier/officer/commander, it's another to enter as a peaceful noncombatant.

Both require differing degrees of bravery, but entering such regions without weaponry, with open arms and peaceful goals, at the mercy of local hostilities, is braver in my opinion.

It's quite brilliant  how they proceed, some of them having discovered that in war torn regions both governments and their militarized opposition don't wish to see civilians harmed (according to the film, since the Second World War civilian casualties during wartime are now heavier than those sustained by military personnel), so the aid workers negotiate impartially with both sides, thereby alienating neither to get their workers on the ground, so they can start providing food and medical aid.

It's not quite that simple but that is one basic frame that can be applied.

Turning the other cheek isn't easy, especially when people flaunt their wickedness, but acts of unempowered kindness can help to build bridges where leaders sometimes fail to do so.

As I've said before, and heard mentioned in an episode of Morse recently, sports are a great way to release built-up counterproductive aggression. Like statements from the trailer for Race, on the field it's what you do that matters, not the colour of your skin. Assuming the officials keep that playing field level, enforcing the rules throughout the game, you can blow off steam while staying in shape, forget about petty injustices, and escape from the world for an athletic hour or two.

A lot of people involved in armed conflicts were forced to take part so when the conflicts end it's important to forgive as the process of rebuilding begins.

Tensions still arise in Europe from time to time, but since 1945 the degree of peace the continent has maintained is phenomenal, in comparison with the warlike preceding centuries.

A shining light.

À la poursuite de la paix is also a phenomenal product of translation, with at least a dozen languages, many of them obscure, from vastly different parts of the globe, skilfully translated and presented on the screen in either French or English, depending on which version you see.

I became interested in subtitles after learning that Xavier Dolan writes his own and seeing the phrase Bob's your uncle in Mommy's.

Hence, translating at least a dozen languages into two sets of uniform subtitles really appeals to me; unfortunately I made the mistake of commenting about them after viewing the film, and, in my resolute naivety, forgot that some people don't know that I'm fascinated by subtitle creation (remembered that upon uttering my first word in French and stumbled), and thought, because I was watching the French version, which I understood the majority of, that I was complaining that there weren't any English subtitles. I dislike it when I hear English people complaining about such things at French events and sincerely apologize if I caused any confusion.

A classic Kermode Montréal blunder.

Apologies.

When you think about how small an aspect of a film subtitle creation is, important but not as rewarded as cinematography or editing, and you think about how much time must have gone into writing the subtitles for À la poursuite de la paix, the film's other aspects like cinematography and editing are sincerely pluralized, as is the film's humble message in the context of global peacekeeping.

Canada and Québec can be that proud peacekeeping nation again.

Just a matter of time and energy, commitment, dedication and resolve.

Diplomatie

The abominations of the Third Reich in ruins, the allies surrounding and closing in on Nazi Germany, General von Choltitz (Niels Arestrup) is tasked to obliterate Paris, ordered, commanded, focusing on its most prestigious architectural venison, to aggrandize Berlin, as it shatters, and prepares for annihilation.

But his command centre betrays him.

A Swedish consul has been watching (André Dussollier as Raoul Nordling), listening, strategically planning his alimentary counterstrikes, voyeuristic rhetoric, announced, risked, deployed.

Competing ethical disciplinary conceptions argumentatively converse, the fate of one of the world's most cherished cities hanging in the balance, militaristic and magnanimous aesthetics desperately franchising disparate souvenirs, time has run out, every syllable must be weighted and choreographed, quickly, rapidly, while seeming logical and scientific, prolongated micropassions, iron set aflame, rigid principled adherence, to jingoistic madness, roasting on the pyre.

He must be saved.

His subordinates would lack his discretion.

Minuscule macromovements.

Abeyance in the heavens.

Diplomatie pokes and prods the cultural and the historical like saintly pensive prose, fortune, tact, and understanding, coalesced to spindle posterity.

Embattled importunate persuasion.

Sailing in the wings.

Dracula Untold

Dracula revisited, often portrayed as a vicious bloodthirsty tyrant, recast as a loving devoted father, husband, and ruler, willing to risk everything to secure the social prosperity of his dominion, brought up as a warrior, who excelled beyond limitation, against his will, trial by fire, impeccable excretions, having returned home a free man, to govern his people with wise, trustworthy gentility, through the art of thinking critically, and the continuous deployment of tribute.

Yet battle once again demands his obedience, a battle that can't be won through earthly means, and a pact is made with transcendent deviance, limitless power, for an insatiable thirst for blood.

Thus the iconic villain is torn, invincible at war, romantically condemned by his true love.

It's a different take on Dracula, Gary Shore's Dracula Untold, the latest vampiric franchise to tenderly and ravenously strike.

It's alright.

Somewhat cutesy at times, which is odd for a mass produced vampire film, making derelict lesions and hallowed imperfections seem direly quaint by comparison; however, its protagonist is rational and his love undying, his fidelity to the centuries, like twilight's eternal fountain.

Missed Jarmusch's Adam a bit while viewing, but it's unfair to compare the two visions.

Glad Jarmusch made that film.

Jodorowsky and vampires?

It's not too late.

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes

A community of apes is flourishing in the forests north of San Francisco, organized and thrifty endowed reactive brawn.

Humans must appease them to acquire a power source they need to continue growing and expanding, a power source lying within the ape's domain, war being an unpalatable option.

Unpalatable though it may be, both sides prepare for battle, while diplomatic agents attempt to harness cooperative wisdom, to the framework of a mutually beneficial future.

Peace and harmony reign for at least a solid three hours.

Before treachery incites.

Born of impenitent vengeance.

The film necessarily struggles to find its identity, as hostilities and passions obstruct the empowerment of conscience.

Perhaps it's too ape-centred for me, the wild productivity of the forest dominating the film's urban concentrations.

It points out that patience and understanding reside within the art of diplomacy, while focusing on how easily its designs are upset by spiteful infringements, the totality of objectification.

Which unleashes the violence of bedlam.

Crushing the foundation of dreams.

Immortals

And the Titans were imprisoned deep within Mount Tartarus after losing a war against the Gods of Olympus. Humankind prospered in the aftermath until such a time as one rose up from lowly origins to seek the destruction of Ancient Greece (Reason) through recourse to military means. But in his blood lust, he made the critical error of murdering the mother of another of humble birth, thereby inspiring his wrath. With no other alternative but to eventually seek the other's annihilation, their armies mercilessly clash, sparing no one from their antagonistic fury.

And the Titans are unleashed once more.

But what does all this have to do with socio-politics and religion and is there a social democratic agenda sequestered deep within Immortals's narrative, eagerly seeking emancipation?

We know that both Theseus (Henry Cavill) and King Hyperion (Mickey Rourke) are roughly members of the proletariat and that the former is primarily concerned with protecting his family while the later seeks to conquer Reason. Theseus is counselled by Zeus (John Hurt, Luke Evans) in disguise to protect the weak and the infirm, while Hyperion lives by the code that might is right. The Titans are incarcerated deep within the earth but they were equals to the Gods prior to being shackled (an ideological battle was waged which stripped them of their material resources). Mineral wealth often lies deep within mountains. Mineral wealth (or petroleum wealth) can be used to attain prestigious cultural god-like positions. With the attainment of wealth and prestige a challenge can be made against the resident Gods (many of whom made their fortune the same way hundreds of years ago and due to the passage of time had their 'royalty' naturalized) in order to obtain political control. Two simplistic traditional ways of examining those within the proletariat who rise through the ranks to positions of power is to regard them as maniacal control freaks (Hyperion, Stalin) or altruistic equalizers (Theseus, Tommy Douglas). Theseus defeats Hyperion and therefore Immortals upholds the altruistic equalizer. But his victory is dependent upon the constant intervention of the Gods or the established concrete ruling elite. In the final moments, Theseus leaves the mortal world and travels to Olympus to live amongst them, leaving humankind behind. There are certainly places within the upper echelons for altruistic individuals, but a social democratic film would have its heroes remain within the mortal realm in order to achieve a material surplus from which his or her compatriots could level out the upper echelons themselves. But if Mount Olympus is thought of as being a legislative assembly as opposed to the halls of the ever rich, then Theseus's position within suggests that he could represent a defender of social democratic values, those espoused by Zeus (or Thomas Mulcair, Brian Topp and Bob Rae), the established order making room for new innovations in order to diversify and remodel its means of production, and be leading the charge against the fallen nouveau riche who were freed by Hyperion's savagery. But Mount Olympus doesn't strike me as being the best place in which to situate a social democratic political aesthetic, inasmuch as the politics of the oppressed are often not resolutely upheld by immortals. And much of the anger felt by Hyperion comes from the Gods turning blind eyes to humankind, or creating elitist structures with no practical outlets nurtured by a culture of snobbery that alienates the proletariat and results in them voting for conservatives (who use the practical outlets ignored by liberal snobs to subliminally manipulate them into preferring divisive racist imperialist alternatives [wherein they mistake subservience for freedom]). And it's Hyperion who wants to destroy them as a consequence, conservatively placing Hyperion in the guise of the social democratic activist, whose out to destroy the liberally motivated yet aloof elite (with the goal of converting the liberal elite to team conservative).

Thus, Immortals doesn't strike me as being pro-social democracy.

In regards to religion, Immortals uses the win scenario to elevate it. The film's situated in Ancient Greece and thereby overtly distances itself from 21st Century religious agendas while metaphorically supporting them, as every character comes to believe (by using Ancient Greece, the film's support for religion doesn't alienate its audience by bombarding them with religious images with which they are familiar which is a win strategy when it comes to eventually converting cynical unbelievers).

Better than Clash of the Titans but not as entertaining as Troy, Stephen Dorff's character (Stavros) steals the show that is perhaps best left for a Saturday evening rental.