The Bounty

Wild deliberations, imaginatively bred, cerebrally adrift on contemplative seas, evocatively swelling disproportionately sly arrhythmically attuned courageously attired.

I imagine it's still tantalizing to freely circumnavigate the globe, it may have been done ad infinitum but must still impress vessel-type depending.

In The Bounty, the rigid captain has it in sight as a resolute goal, but gives up after inclement weather bombards his ships for weeks on end.

He still reaches his destination where his hearty men modestly indulge themselves, the tropical climate and easy living a well-earned break from life at sea.

But for the celebratory accomplished return trip he wants to test the stormy waters again, to stubbornly realize his lofty objective which was wisely abandoned with sobre regret. 

His men have grown quite sick of the imposition of discipline at sea however, and many of them miss their island comforts with far fewer rules and regulations and lashes. 

Fearing they'll never make it, they openly launch an audacious mutiny. 

Taking the ship wherever it may go.

Never to see their Native homeland again. 

The Bounty takes an imperious shine to top-down order and absolutist reckoning, affirmatively upholding old school codes of efficient conduct and divine faith.

Circumnavigating the globe would have no doubt been a noteworthy accomplishment, to look back upon in your senior years with loyal disbelief and rebellious fidelity.

Dying in the attempt would have been fruitless and perhaps even mad obsessions pending, although if the captain had been less severe he may have subtly won the crew over.

He isn't a loveable man though and relies more on codes and duty than artful persuasion, unlike his affable mutinous counterpart whom the crew adores with uncompromised feeling. 

To take a ship and just sail off into the wide open salient distance. 

Could you have purchased your own ship and done that way back when?

Is it even possible to do that now?

Flying to Vancouver's crazy expensive.  

Young Guns

Serendipitous saddling fomenting fortunes crackerjack kindness reverent rustlin', stampeding torrents literate loci instructive succour obliged education.

Haberdash hogshead tenacious teamwork Rubiconstructive retained regulators, truculent taunting subsiding swagger intellect jambience burgeoning blossoms. 

Collusive commerce nefarious networks jingoist junction Tatooine tirades, secretive sinuous stealthy swashbuckle malicious murder curmudgeon cabal. 

Renegade retinue leaderless posse passionate penchants kinetic collective, diatribe deputies laconic lawmen nebulous neophytes seditious swerve.

Mad uncharacteristic unruly Blitzkrieg undisciplined dagwooden undaunted dragoonies, occultist oddballroomatadorabble incensed discipupils adherent litter.

Internal combustion unsettling disputes cardionysus fraternal fissures, exacting ill-favoured rogue smallpox impression newfound internecine audacious comport.

Poetic proclivities amorous auction studious studebake uncertain unction, indiscreet bold nimble enamoured sojourn conjugal cosign vigorous reach. 

Bellicose business exceptional tenure unwavering purpose conspicuous focus, shock instigation lawless calibration embellished belief conceptual savvy. 

Indelicate danger insurmountable agency doughty nuthatch infinite conflict, rigorous tumbledown improvised fortitude carnivalesque formidable foes. 

Survivalist synergies wilderness verve exceeding temerity ambitious being, Old Mexico-sponsored galvanized gumption offhand industrious bushwhacking beatitudes. 

Unforgotten friendship disheartening news sinistorytime sequential stark staggered symmetry, foolhardy reckoning brave composition inexhaustible mantra cataclysmic mavericks. 

Innovative illogic western wimbledowntown youthful yippee-ki-yay exotic entertainment, perennial favourites ricardiocast enticing implausibility unkempt exaggeration.

Love Terence Stamp's role in this film.

Innate improbability. 

The best Billy-the-Kid movie I've seen.

Followed the cast in different films for years.  

Gezora, Ganime, Kameba: Kessen! Nankai no daikaijû (Space Amoeba)

An unmanned vessel is sent into space with the inquisitive ambitions of studying Jupiter, alone and courageous it magnetically travels in resourceful steady industrious wavelengths. 

But as fate would have it, a discourteous entity serendipitously commandeers its research & development, and immediately sets course for the unsuspecting Earth where it inauspiciously lands in the Pacific Ocean.

The craft is reported as missing and daily routines mysteriously sublimate, the enervating misfortunes scientifically smothered by polemical disputes concerning the galaxy. 

Nevertheless, an observant photographer saw it awkwardly land while travelling by plane, and even though no one authenticates the sighting, he vigorously maintains his fortunate vision. 

At the same time, he's reliably hired to diligently photograph an island in the Pacific, which happens to be situated around the same place where he accidentally saw the spaceship descend.

Gregariously accompanied by an amicable team they bravely head out to the isolated wilderness, curious to meet the local inhabitants who have imaginatively lived there since the dawn of time.

They superstitiously fear a giant sea demon by the name of Gezora who lives in the depths. 

The alien entity having unwittingly assumed.

The ancient enigmatic uncompromising deity. 

Not the most well-thought out of the captivating freeform creative monster movies, Gezora, Ganime, Kameba: Kessen! Nankai no daikaijû (Space Amoeba) still startles and accentuates otherworldly absurd and ludicrous pretensions. 

A more sincere critique of the commercial desires to turn the island into a resort, would have materialized virtuous acclamations ethically attuned to Indigenous agency.

Yet perhaps it indirectly critiques commercial endeavours through its bizarre depiction of the covetous alien, who is rather diminutive globally speaking yet still seeks to effectively conquer the world.

Is that not the initial hubris of so many adventurous businesspeople, who hope their products will establish footholds in worldwide markets internationally speaking?

Starting out from humble origins they create commercials to advertise their wares, which are somewhat like the creature in Space Amoeba who effectively irritates the tenacious locals.

Ridiculous to see interplanetary ambitions maladroitly unleashed in animate obscurity. 

Endemic wildlife saving the day.

As it has throughout the millennia. 

*Criterion keyword: turtle.

Burden of Dreams

If you're ever under a lot of pressure to achieve a difficult goal, which seems beyond accomplishing too impossible to ever attain, perhaps watch Les Blank's Burden of Dreams as it films the making of Fitzcarraldo, and Werner Herzog's Herculean labours trying to finish the chaotic anti-epic.

Then watch Fitzcarraldo itself and consider that he actually did finish it. With setbacks that would have sent Olympic athletes home in exasperation. No matter what he got 'er done.

I don't know if these films are part of a master class in improvisational independent filmmaking, where the students study Herzog's endeavours and reach conclusions as to his methods.

Or arduously research grand ambition as applied to making international films, where extremely complicated and delicate agreements must be reached with critical Natives.

Or practically study the provision of supplies to an isolated camp deep in the jungle, where hundreds of extras and film personnel had to be well-fed to fend off the boredom.

With the deep pockets of a Hollywood studio it would have perhaps been a different story, although I imagine they would have backed out after the setbacks became too outrageous (punitive raids etc.).

Credit to Herzog for never backing down and to every cast and crew member who stuck it out till the end. 

Hyperintense ominous immersion. 

Ineffable formidable frustration. 

Heart of Darkness comes to mind and Apocalypse Now as well no doubt, as if Herzog was somewhat like Kurtz madly delegating lost in the jungle.

Interviews capture distinct moments alternative viewpoints his different moods, many of them courageous and vigorously defiant while some give way to augmented misery. 

The diaries of Les Blank and Maureen Gosling excerpts of which come with the Criterion edition of Burden of Dreams (they used to anyway, I bought my copy 20 years ago), offer disenchanting insights into the chaos and some of the decisions that had to be made.

Still to make them to be so artistically obsessed the bona-fide-mad-genius expediently concocting, reflexively adjusting to constant insane pressure, with everyone confused seeking guidance and instruction.

While Kinski erupts in fury (Blank doesn't focus much on Kinski but you can see it in Herzog's My Best Fiend) and the threat of mutiny ubiquitously languishes. 

The absolute pursuit of compulsive artistry. 

People actually risking their lives.

I don't know if there ever was what could be considered a plan.

If there was and it was written down it should be in a museum.

Copies available for study.

With mind-bogglingly resilient discipline. 

*Cool shots of jungle animals at times. 

Aguirre, der Zorn Gottes (Aguirre, the Wrath of God)

As colonialism expands in the jungles of South America, the Indigenous inhabitants engage in trickery, wholeheartedly convincing several of the invaders that a vast city of gold exists deep within, the tale too tantalizing to ignore, soon a diverse outfit departs in pursuit.

Unaccustomed to the haunting jungle with its sweltering heat and bugs and mud, the ensemble makes slow progress initially until confronting a hostile river.

Here the group splits up with many of the party remaining behind, as a courageous group virtuously led bravely sets out alone down its course.

Virtuous ideals clashing with blunt pragmatism such strained relations when people don't value life, ironically tormenting the high-minded colonialists who had already instigated so much Native carnage.

Conflict abounds as the lethal Aguirre soon disagrees with his captain, and plans a much less sympathetic voyage weak on heart and strong on ambition.

He's able to persuade most of the company to boldly adhere to his brutal methods, as they drift deeper into the jungle on their adventurous own without knowledge or know-how.

Their rafts are detected by Natives hoping not to suffer like their enslaved brethren. 

Arrows picking the Spanish off one by one.

As Aguirre's madness irascibly intensifies.

A remarkable feat of filmmaking which took considerable risks to accomplish its goals, hats off to the daring cast and crew (plus Herzog) who set out on the river expedition.

It mustn't be as dangerous as it looks or else I doubt anyone would have agreed to do it, and how did the camera crew get all those shots as the wild river raged with absolutist fervour?

A former prince even travels amongst them and bitterly complains about his newfound bearing, not much is made of the dynamic character but he does show up from time to time.

Adorable animals occasionally adorn the blood-soaked verse with contradictory tender, but at times they aren't treated humanely most notably the awkward rebellious horse scene.

Music also interrupts the flow of augmented acidic despondent mutiny, as mellifluous sounds generously erupt from an endemic pipe playfully attuned.

When you stare into Kinski's eyes it really is like you're sailing through an abyss, it's like he spent so much time furiously exclaiming when they weren't filming that he forgot to radicalize his lines on set.

A marvel of cinematic industry that likely never would have been made if the mechanics had been scrutinized, I can sincerely applaud its visceral fortitude assuming the cast and crew knew what they were getting into. 

📽🎞

Storm Boy

An ominous board meeting looms for the former director of a prosperous company, which may result in the industrialization of large verdant swathes of Western Australia. 

He's more or less retired and not that concerned with business as of late, his son leading the woebegone way to widespread inanimate environmental degradation. 

His granddaughter is quite concerned though and at irascible odds with her dismissive father, and as granddad listens to her passionate criticisms his mind begins to impressionably sway.

He begins telling an old school tale of his unorthodox childhood isolated on a beach, where he grew up with his father and three pelicans and a local friendly Indigenous neighbour.

The tale, much like the original, follows young Kingley as he raises the pelicans, his father and friend warm and pleasantly accommodating throughout the non-traditional animal husbandry.

The birds are an active lot whose jaunty forthright exuberant instincts, lead to the acquisition of thousands of pounds of increasingly larger delicious fresh fish.

Unfortunately, bird hunters are near who outrageously kill just to have deranged fun.

But as he trains them they thoughtfully respond.

And a bird sanctuary may be on its way! 🐦 

Plus the deal to alarmingly pollute so much vital Australian land, is suddenly challenged by the swift reemergence of a caring activist and his granddaughter. 

It's a heartwarming familial account of the spectacular bonds forged between different species, and the ways in which so many animals can forge lifelong ties with us if raised from birth.

Look to the energetic Moo Deng who recently captured the world's attention, or at manifold other online videos delicately telling similar stories. 

Not just when humans are involved, one video depicts a leopard raised by a cow, who still returns to visit her years later, intense congenial interactive love!

I didn't think this version of Storm Boy would be like a reimagining of the original, which I strongly encourage curious peeps to synchronously check out if you've got time.

The new version's good, don't get me wrong, but the original shouldn't be overlooked by any means.

It's much more independent and ingeniously realized a genuine masterpiece to be widely shared. 

🎄🎅🤶⭐

Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire

Kong devotedly explores his new home in search of more giant gorillas like him, his investigations resulting in multiple chance encounters with other beasts from the hostile region.

Meanwhile, unprecedented signals are cryptically sent from a vigilant science outpost, which causes confused Jia to have hallucinations the dream logic of which remains a mystery.

After the transmission of the signals Godzilla radioactively expresses himself, by commandeering a nuclear power plant in France and absorbing its unsurpassed Olympic resiliency.

Jia is having trouble at school and frustratingly feels like she doesn't fit in, missing her people and her old way of life she simply can't settle into the scholastic environment.

Fortunately, as incipient chaos galavantingly grips bewildered surface dwellers, a team is assembled to travel to Hollow Earth and find epic answers to cataclysmic questions.

Jia's adopted mom and her ex-partner Trapper plus bloggin' Bernie Hayes are along for the ride, to the cryptic realm where dinosaur-like beings still productively enable macroscopic shenanigans.

As Kong is led to find his people he locates them distressingly enslaved.

While Jia discovers her legendary import.

According to an ancient Hollow Earth tribe.

There's a lot happening in Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire as intense conflicts habitually invigorate, Kong and Godzilla routinely fighting as Jia deals with manifest mythology.

Bernie Hayes adds so much depth as he boldly improvises with heroic fortitude, and Dr. Andrews and her resourceful ex ajoutent parental guidance with ludicrous resolve. 

As the three main plots intersect I would say Kong's has the most appeal, his quest to meet his people stifled by autocratic banality, his consistent altercations more thrilling than Godzilla's. 

When Jia discovers that her voyage to Hollow Earth had been intuitively prophesized it makes for an intriguing plot thread, but it loses some of its mysticism as the enraged Titans reflexively battle.

It should be the principal focus from the viewpoint of so many other stories with similar patterns, narratives which are so much fun to watch, but New Empire's mayhem obscures the fascination.

Still a cool monster movie no doubt with an ethical focus on justice and dignity.

Incredible consistent action.

Classic 'zilla and Kong.

Hidalgo

It never really made much difference to me what College or University you went to, or if you learned esoteric details about different branches of knowledge while on the job, what mattered was how enthusiastically you applied yourself to whatever hand you happened to have been dealt, and how you strove for improvement regardless of class or birth, which generally reflects the spirit of the times I grew up in.

Thus, it wouldn't surprise me if Community College students were also making breakthroughs in respective fields, as Frank Hopkins does in Hidalgo, in the competitive sport of horse racing. 

He didn't get his trusted steed from a well-off breeder publicizing coveted lineage, or even from a local stable offering beginners a tempting free ride, instead he chose his trusted mount from a herd of wild mustangs in Oklahoma, whose descendants still freely ride to this day, un jour j'espère les voir.

He gains a world renowned reputation for winning long distance races in the United States, indeed winning an incredible number throughout his lengthy career.

His reputation becomes so enviable that he attracts the attention of Middle-Eastern competitors, who challenge him to the toughest horse race on the planet, a 3,000 mile trek 'cross forbidding deserts.

He's a first class gamer, he courageously responds, with neither question nor concern for personal safety, even after it becomes apparent his life's at risk, and it's not only the elements who seek to hunt him.

He must face some of the finest stallions to have ever been bred in horse racing history, amongst opponents who doubt he will survive one day on his wild unsung beast who lacks proper pedigree.

But as so often happens in the world of sport which usually celebrates talent regardless of rank or birth, Hopkins and Hidalgo really are the best the world's ever seen, and tenaciously win the "Ocean of Fire".

Exceptionally difficult to do and requiring a genuine degree of hard work and sacrifice, but if raised in even a moderately honest political system, if you excel, you should modestly prosper.

Hopkins takes his prize money and doesn't spend it on lavish trinkets, but rather hears that a herd of mustangs is going to be shot, and pays handsomely for them to be released back into the wild (Go Broncos!) 💌

Born of two-cultures and horrified to have witnessed the scurrilous slaughter of unarmed Native peoples, he proceeds honourably as best he can and must be one of the most successful athletes ever.

It'd be cool to see Viggo Mortensen win the Best Actor Oscar some day.

He's had a lot of roles like this one.

Where it seems like he's holding so much back.

*Unlike Captain Fantastic.

Black Panther: Wakanda Forever

Pink Floyd was in a bind after their leading member became incapacitated. But they regrouped and dug in deep and years later wrote Dark Side of the Moon (and Atom Heart Mother and Meddle).

I can't think of another band that held it together after their leading person sort of passed, and even went on to improve upon his work, not that I still don't love listening to Piper.

In a similar way, but under much different circumstances, Marvel's Black Panther lost Chadwick Boseman, and likely had to make considerable adjustments to keep things real to narratively excel.

And I couldn't believe it.

Flabbergasted, if I'm not mistaken, is the word.

Wakanda Forever is like limitless joy radiating infinite happiness in a never-ending ocean of strength, illuminatingly upheld with fluidic fortunes nascently enabling elaborate forum. 

A major takeaway for anyone whose ever been pissed off about what happened to Indigenous South and Central America.

I try not to think about it because it's so uniformly frustrating that it obscures clear thought, and opens doors to distressing depression especially when you see it happening again.

Nothing can be done about it, but fiction doesn't play by the same mortal rules, and in Marvel's Wakanda Forever, Indigenous South Americans are a potent factor.

They survived thanks to a special flower the existence of which was revealed to them by their god, which transformed them into vibrant merpeople, who then made their home far beneath the open sea.

Not just a home, there's so much respect, like the respect given to African Americans through the creation of Wakanda, the extant versatile Mayas and Incas having built a formidable civilization under the sea.

They also ride whales and admire turtles Wakanda Forever totally jamming with Whale Rider, not only by introducing integral whales but also by championing prominent female characters.

It's like a monumental Indigenous/Feminist/African inherent feat of incredibility, with total respect given within, in terms of equality, ingenuity, and innovation.

Nature isn't forgotten as well the miraculous existence of any given species, is venerably compared to Wakandan and Talokonil technology, the cultures prospering through cultural symbioses. 

Like Pink Floyd, Marvel held it together and created another action packed inspiring phenom. 

The ocean is undeniably vast. 

Who knows what lies underneath?

*If Namor wants to buy Black Panther Shuri a present, I recommend picking up a really cool bike.

**Wrote this on Friday night after having a swim. 

***I know humpback and orcas get the most press because watching them jump is amazing, but don't forget about all the other whale (and turtle) species out there. They need representation too!

****There are a lot of bad things happening in the ocean, considering the infamous garbage patch and the intense underwater sound disturbances. The Talokonil (and the Metkayina) could tackle some of those issues in these films. I can't believe how much I love them. 

The Lost City

A famous adventure/romance novelist (Sandra Bullock as Loretta Sage) begins to question her professional identity, when the launch of her latest book fails to inspire commercial motivation.

She's done it so many times that the book tour and associated hoopla, seem too superficial to sincerely entertain even though her adoring fans can't wait.

She's jealous of the easy going male model (Channing Tatum as Alan) who adorns the covers of her texts as well, he loves the media sensation, this doesn't evince discerning pageantry.

After she turns the anticipated launch into a dire ill-fated farce, she seeks in vain for heartfelt felicity, before a covetous mean-spirited billionaire (Daniel Radcliffe as Abigail Fairfax) suddenly has her kidnapped. 

She's flown to a tropical island and tasked with locating enticing treasure, local Natives imploring them to leave it alone, the alarming obsession metastasizing madness.

Alan soon follows along with an Indiana Jones/James Bond type rescuer (Brad Pitt as Jack Trainer). 

Ill-prepared for the ensuing task force.

Still improvising with resonant throng. 

The Lost City embraces traditional stately oft criticized tropes and accessories, yet effectively makes the age old adventurous point, that its principal goal is to just entertain. 

Therefore, I had to ask myself, am I genuinely enjoying this film?, beyond multivariable criteria, and I had to admit, I was.

I was lightheartedly reminded that novel bizarre stylistic independence, and counterintuitive literary jigsaw, don't imaginatively motivate some, who are more concerned with intuitive fun.

I suppose a lot of the time it isn't the mischievous wordplay, but just hot bods and romantic adventure that make people interested in watching films.

I also suppose it isn't the goal of many to only enhance the authentic aura, of low-budget brainiac films perhaps one day destined for whimsical cult status (it doesn't make any sense!).

The pandemic's cut me off from theatres and my lifestyle changed as time moved on, and I found for the first time in over a decade I had what is known as free time.

I love the free time I have to just to sit back and listen to music.

But movies are meant to be seen on screen.

The direct experience deconstructing cynicism.  

*Loved the Raiders/Terminator pastiche near the end.

Mothra vs. Godzilla

A mysterious giant egg suddenly appears off the Japanese Coast, its contents baffling yet still intriguing, as diverse interests eclectically gather.

Unfortunately, environmental initiatives fail to posture before the egg is (absurdly) sold, by local entrepreneurial opportunists hoping to monumentally prosper.

A more ambitious wealthy exhibitionist hopes to create a theme park through Happy Enterprises, and entertainingly showcase the egg while also selling treats and delicious refreshments.

Concerned journalists soon learn of the plot and set about cultivating public opinion, hoping to create a massive uproar which may encourage government intervention.

They lament that there's no legal recourse to directly challenge the developers in court, especially after two miniature citizens suddenly arrive from Mothra's island.

Apparently, the typhoon sent Mothra's egg on a disquieting maiden voyage, and they've come to argue for its return especially since noble Mothra is dying.

The adventurists care not for her plight and refuse to give up their lucrative treasure.

Just as Godzilla comes a' callin'.

Hellbent on countercultural carnage.

A crash course in socioeconomics instructively awaits in Mothra vs. Godzilla, perfectly laid out with accessible language which any curious audience member would easily comprehend (with English or French subtitles 🤷).

Mothra vs. Godzilla may even indeed be a solid didactic tool to be used in classrooms across the land, schools effectively saving resources and time by simply showing this ridiculous film.

Perhaps that's what happened, there's no equivocal doubt that environmental regulations in some jurisdictions are much stronger, and that if you want to develop land like Ontario's Greenbelt, you first have to acknowledge local regulations.

Thus, the public outrage the journalists seek to nurture in ye olde Mothra vs. Godzilla (Mothra shows up in spellcheck but Godzilla doesn't), would likely also be backed up by laws progressively created over the course of the last century.

Hence, instead of bravely spending the last moments of her life epically battling the formidable Godzilla, Mothra could have cared for her fledgling young and perhaps even named or taken them for their first flight.

Perhaps Godzilla disputatiously emerged to figuratively encourage the creation of such laws, I've seen several nature shows about Japan, and it seems as if their wildlife is flourishing (except for whales 😢😭😿🐋).

Sad that Mothra had to physically give her life for such a turn of events to jurisprudently take hold.

Her larvae born argumentatively composed.

Their perspicacity irritating the aggrieved Godzilla!

A River Runs Through It

Family first and foremost reciprocally resigned in pristine pastures, a sturdy minister and his adventurous sons tenderly taken care of by an adoring mom.

Strict but not overbearing the natural tendency to erupt in play, openly encouraged within temporal limits reasonably applied each and every day.

Fly fishing forges the backbone of glib inquisitive rural endeavours, local rivers and fields and forests ebulliently itemized in joyous caricature.

It's focused on several times and becomes something artistic if not spiritual, the youngest lad remarkably entertaining with paramount dexterous improvised brilliance. 

His older brother's somewhat more tried and true and spends six years away from home at school, learning the integral ways of literature to be creatively taught with bucolic industry.

The younger takes to the wild and emphatically learns the art of journalism, freely expressing his withering whimsy with a festive fair-hand and spry open-mind. 

But somewhat unsettled somewhat borderline reckless he pursues risk-fuelled gambling and drink beyond reason. 

Yet still never arrives late for fishing.

And always puts on quite a show. 

Narrated with old world omniscience as if oracled fate was clairvoyantly hewn, exciting moments and tragic expenditures objectively passing with sagacious sentiment.

I remembered so many exuberant hours curiously exploring throughout my youth, as I watched those rambunctious lads engage in resolute countryside quorums. 

Such a shame when disciplinary regulations counterintuitively produce wanton interludes, the legionary impetus of the pervasive patterns alternatively encouraging adventitious catalogues.

Such a shame when a lack of order counterintuitively begets despotism, through the unfortunate contemptuous dismissal of laidback chillin' and relaxed intuition.

What a consistent pain applying reason and logic to find realistic solutions.

Sport always seems to fend off carnage.

The arts unfortunately lacking commensurate mass appeal. 

Jules au pays d'Asha (Adventures in the Land of Asha)

It's a shame there has to be so much conflict as different groups try to inhabit the same space, mad insensitive aggrieved prejudice spoiling what could have been mutually beneficial otherwise.

Latent curiosity and shapeshifting definition steering clear of volatile absolutes, can lead to less authoritarian conviction as so many others have noted.

Less authoritarian conviction leads to less violent prescription as possibility proves multivalent and choice radiates concurrently. 

Thus, to be curious about secular orders and different faiths leads to fascination, through noteworthy respectful chronicles inquisitively investigating difference.

It's fun to imagine the divine touch illuminating each distinctive viewpoint, through natural immaterial observances characterizing piece of mind.

The traditions can be appealing as they provide industrious links, stretching thousands of years into the past, direct connections to extant history.

Applicability to cultural mutations and newfound initiatives scientifically spearheaded, perhaps lead to doctrinal adjustments which celebrate difference and transformation.

You wonder why books stopped being added to sacred texts as if the ancient world had monopolized spirituality, suspicious how divine inspiration has been sharply dismissed forever after since then.

Scientific observations of the heating planet do rationally suggest, that sustainable stewardship of global environments will lead to a less disastrous future.

Perhaps thousands of years ago when technology was rather primitive, and the wild was still imposing and seemed like a limitless potent hostility, the desire to cultivate and criticize it predominantly spread across the land, especially noting habitual plagues and many frustrating incurable ailments, nature must have seemed at times quite daunting to ancient researchers. 

Yet there were also thousands of years when people around the world lived harmoniously with nature, and reciprocal symbiosis drove renewable extents!

I suppose if the fossil fuel age comes to a sudden end and no alternative technologies emerge to replace it, the likelihood of an embrace of nature will be nautically necessitated. 

Perhaps with adaptations and a much less wild and reckless impetus, the loss of such a multidimensional society enough to humble even the most self-serving autocrat.

Back to travelling by boat, ye olde steam engines, bikes, and blacksmiths. 

Things are so expensive in Canada and Québec nowadays it's not like there's much opportunity to travel interprovincially anyways.

Cool film.

*It's not just groceries. Let's look at gas that hasn't gone back down to pre-pandemic levels either. 

Samson & Delilah

You wonder how worlds so radically different could obliviously exist side by side in the same country, one characterized by wealth and prosperity, the other struggling to get by day after day.

In Samson & Delilah, two Indigenous youths run into trouble on their reservation, and soon find themselves living on the outskirts of an Australian city, unable to speak English or find work.

Unfortunately, charitable organizations don't find them and take them in, and help them adjust to the cultural shock, and find work and food and lodging.

Delilah's (Marissa Gibson) mother used to make elaborate quilts which a broker sold for her in the city, giving her $200 for her trouble, then selling them for $22,000.

Delilah finds the gallery by accident but the dealer has no time for her, she then makes cool designs of her own which she isn't able to sell.

Their story takes a violent turn as outrageous thugs come bellicosely calling, imagine you just want to co-exist and make friends and all you ever encounter is hostility. 

It may seem extreme but the story's the same in different parts of Canada.

If only different peoples looked upon each other with respect.

Without fatalistic ill-will.

Fatalism rots the brain with unproductive morose cynicism, replacing imaginative variable dreams with motionless stagnant gaunt depression.

Ask yourself who's spreading fatalism and challenge them instead of fighting yourselves, while striving to build stronger safer communities within which kids are free to prosper.

It would be cool to be a general or a CEO, a principal or a famous actor, but there are so many other cool options out there which also offer a neat way of life.

Samson & Delilah is one of the most heartbreaking films I've ever seen, who could possibly want the world to be that way?, there's still so much work to be done. 

For how many more decades do we have to read or view stories like these before lasting bridges are built all over for different communities?

It's a problem for both the left and right.

Perhaps both sides should spend less time transferring blame. 

Charlie's Country

An aging Indigenous hunter goes about his daily business (David Gulpilil as Charlie), peacefully reacting to impositions which have radically transformed his life.

He remembers the old school ways dating back for many a millennia, and is somewhat vexed by colonial laws which often prohibit related freedoms.

Regulations manage so much of what he's traditionally trying to do, that it's like his way of life's been outlawed to his habitual astonishment.

He makes a reasonable case simply stating that it's his land, simply being annoyed by the lack of work or the lack of interest in his culture.

While viewing the film and intently listening to his passionate music, it seemed like a monstrously depressing  history, that there was so much spiritual harmony to be freely nurtured that was generally overlooked by covetous Europeans.

Imagine free spiritual exchanges had won the day with interactive correspondence respectfully matriculating, and these songs and dances were also consistent components of the greater Australian (or Canadian) scene.

And that the cultures were really interacting with mutual respect across the land. And there had never been any lost generations. No chilling grand historical barbarism.

That's the problem with uniform exposition it antiseptically sterilizes so much life, and takes vast vivacious versatile vistas and obtusely replaces them with bland monotony.

It's not even that bland monotony should be overlooked if anything it should be give a different label, and treated with mutual respect that doesn't enrage its anger-prone proponents (note: Russia is invading other countries again and Italy just elected a government that reveres Mussolini).

If one ring rules them all it really does bind them in darkness, with no grand multivariable recourse sleep takes hold with soporific blindness.

I just sort of like trying this and that there are so many different styles available out there, it's as simple as flipping through channels on the TV, or just surfing around on the radio.

I had developed this latently in my youth but Montréal really helped it bloom, I can't think of a better place in Canada and Québec to learn to ensconce yourself in diversity.

Charlie just wants to peacefully live according to the ways his people have for millennia, and while attempting to confidently do so, keeps running into violence.

This leads to a sense of desperation which is worst case if treated with alcohol.

Would you understand if someone took your country away?

Why do you expect Indigenous Peoples to?

Storm Boy

A mild-mannered father (Peter Cummins) takes up fishing off the rugged coast of Australia, securing a modest independent living for him and his only son (Greg Rowe as Mike 'Storm Boy' Kingley).

His wife passed on unfortunately and he never sought the hand of another, incredibly chill laidback pastoral but still stern about materialistic things.

His poor son would like a radio to tune into the outside world, he's naturally curious and doesn't attend school and would like to learn more about his bustling surroundings.

But he's not a brat, he doesn't bother his dad in routine disgruntled tantrum, instead he turns the beach and its enveloping countryside into a multifaceted mysterious classroom.

His habitual innocent candour leads to the making of animal friends, notably after finding some baby pelicans whose parents were likely shot by casual hunters. 

He takes the babies home and helps to raise them with good ole dad, forging fluent amicable bonds, one even stays on into adulthood.

Mr. Percival makes adorable sounds while going about his pelican business, and proves quite perspicacious as the sea erupts in challenge.

But will 'lil Storm Boy ever go to school or at least take correspondence courses?, so full of life and compassionate vision he'd no doubt benefit from general learning.

His Indigenous friend (David Gulpilil as Fingerbone) encourages schooling and teaches him to be cautious 'round snakes, perhaps too cautious indeed they're lifeforms too with a right to exist!

Nevertheless, young Storm Boy authenticates the amiable inquisitive frontier spirit, perhaps not as wild as at the time of first contact, but still overflowing with naturalistic life.

If you can still find joy in nature there's certainly an abundance in Canada and Australia, true the winter makes it difficult in North America, but there also aren't many venomous snakes (or spiders).

Storm Boy presents open-minded individuals who haven't been misled by prejudice, and gradually shows them peacefully interacting with intuitive grace and humanistic dignity. 

It also composédly challenges speciesism by crafting integral animal friends, not just cats and dogs but other animals who can also learn to harmoniously co-exist.

Its inherent calm enabling chill well-meaning tranquil harmless goodwill, should make Storm Boy a family favourite for different generations not only in Australia.

A must see if you have a family that's genuinely interested in the natural world.

It's not entirely chill, tough scenes await!

Why the emphasis on gruelling mortality?

*Isn't Kes's return the worst episode of Voyager?

**Speciesism doesn't show up in spellcheck!

***I can't find the Storm Boy sequel online!

The Tracker

*Spoiler Alert.

I'm unaware of another director who critiques patriarchal excesses as well as Rolf de Heer, I'm thinking of Alexandra's Project and The Tracker, wherein which he holds nothing back in his critique of men.

Not men in general or every man but definitely racist and sexist men who go to extremes, in The Tracker's case a rifle toting lawperson who shoots every Indigenous person he sees (regardless of whether they're the one he's searching for), including women and the elderly, and in Alexandra's Project, a lusty husband who gets outduelled through passionate disillusionment.

Most of the men I've met haven't been quite as arrogant as the jerks in Heer's films, not that they don't like to have a laugh or air grievances (you really shouldn't try to take away or prohibit the means by which decent men let off steam regarding relationships [it leads to naturally angry people who don't want to change becoming more and more furious because they have no outlet for their frustrations {which aren't even that serious if the outlet exists unless they're extremists, but become much more intense if severely limited }]), but I picture them discussing other things besides sex and gender roles with their wives (especially after this long), and doubt they would take their prejudices to genocidal extremes (most of them were pretty chill back in the day).

In The Tracker, 4 men set out to find an Indigenous person in the Outback who's accused of killing a caucasian woman, one of them a multifaceted guide (David Gulpilil as the Tracker), one ruthlessly dismissive of Native culture (Gary Sweet as the Fanatic), another young and new to the territory (Damon Gameau as The Follower), and another just along for the ride (Grant Page as the Veteran). 

The Tracker mischievously leads them in the right direction at a slower pace than the fugitive, so he (Noel Wilton) always knows where they are and they never brutally overtake him.

Early on during the search, they encounter free Indigenous peeps enjoying their day, and the mad institutionally supported leader starts firing shots with reckless abandon.

The young recruit is utterly horrified which leads the old timer to question his intelligence, I've said it before, I'll say it again, belligerent jingoism doesn't inevitably monopolize the constructive mind. 

It certainly didn't in the '80s, '90s, and early 2000s when many films like this were being made, but it's become much more fashionable these days, with World War III looming on the horizon (after a pandemic [pass the Ricard]).

If you want to see a Native person fight back and courageously strike a blow for his resilient culture, The Tracker is indubitably a must-see, fully equipped with Indigenous justice.

The trigger happy lawperson is captured because his youthful charge refuses to let him shoot innocent people.

And this youth's generation likely brought about the reforms of my youth.

Which have stalled amidst a colossal prejudiced backlash. 

Key Largo

*Spoiler alert.

An idyllic break far off in southern Florida, with fish to catch and an ocean to sit by things seem like they couldn't be better.

The bar is stocked, his hosts eager to see him, for he brings sought after news (Humphrey Bogart as Frank McCloud), of a son and a husband's final days in combat, they can rest easy, peace reassured. 

The hotel they've owned for quite some time has several additional guests, however, who have paid handsomely to be left alone and are none too fond of visitors.

Initial contact is rather abrupt the antagonism slowly but surely increasing, it's readily apparent that something disquieting has callously called and rascally roosted.

They were just hoping to quietly reside while they made their lucrative deal, having left the bright lights behind and travelled there by boat.

A hurricane approaches and the law keeps stopping by, in search of two escaped convicts who may be innocent of any crime.

Those visiting, those renting, those fleeing, those having lived there for many a year (Lauren Bacall as Nora Temple and Lionel Barrymore as James Temple), find themselves at the mercy of concurrent clashes socioculturally and torrentially bound.

The menace invariably metastasizes as Johnny Rocco (Edward G. Robinson) malevolently emerges, with enough time to exchange bits and pieces of fascinating troubled grandiose discord.

McCloud courageously counters with peaceful dreams inspired by World War II victory, Rocco testing his mettle forthwith, there's little McCloud can do in the foreboding fray.

Key Largo may be somewhat too blunt for fans of The Maltese Falcon, as the bellicose lack of subterfuge leaves little room for mystery.

If searching for frank exclamations boldly jettisoned with antiquated daring, Largo may prove rather sporting, nevertheless, if not too headstrong or overpowering.

Still saturated with humble belief multilaterally composed, competing psychological imaginations excavated from the same cultural bedrock.

A chaotic lament for guiltless freedom still wildly critiquing ethics duty bound, as dreams of a world reborn come to terms with extant realities.

Indigenous characters suffer in the background for they can't enter during the storm, and two of them are shot having done no wrong having taken refuge in a reputed sanctuary.

Duty does win out in the end and bucolic romance is bravely restored.

Not without having been assailed.

Competing beliefs, convergent ideologies. 

Medicine Man

Laidback far off in the jungle, ensconced within an Amazonian tribe, a doctor searches for the cure for cancer (Sean Connery as Dr. Robert Campbell), as encroaching industry rapidly assails.

He's been on his own scientifically speaking for the past 3 productive years, when a research assistant comes querulously calling, hoping for an update on his progress (Lorraine Bracco as Dr. Rae Crane). 

She's unaccustomed to field research but she's a gamer and athletically makes do, initial quarrels gradually mutating into spry collegial conversations.

It helps that Campbell's well-versed in freespirited adventurous exploration, and can expertly guide her through the forest at a variety of elevations.

But his last research assistant was also female and he cantankerously drove her away, unable to let himself be forgiven, for introducing a viral element.

Fortunately, he's found the cure, there's just one pesky problem, he can't synchronously reproduce it, and neither can diligent Crane.

It's a dedicated romantic tale confrontationally composed through agile wonder, promoting biodiverse necessities and the essential need for wildlife preservation.

There's a thoughtful acclimatizing scene where Crane observes Campbell interacting with his tribe, not with the intent of spoiling his fun, but rather out of respect for his cohesive integration.

While Campbell's work is extremely important and his potential discovery of paramount depth, his Indigenous hosts suffer for his research, one tribe lost, another forced to relocate.

These tragedies take place even though he takes every resolute precaution, so many lives lost through effects unforeseen, even when proceeding with the best intentions.

Don't confuse this with the horrifying legacy of Canada's residential school system, Campbell has respect for the Natives and has no desire whatsoever to assimilate them.

I don't think the people who ran those schools ever considered taking painstaking precautions, otherwise we wouldn't have found so many grass graves (new ones every week), imagine one child died at school in our time, due to mismanagement, the outrage would last a generation. 

And we've found four mass graves so far, it's clear something they were doing at these schools wasn't working. And they didn't try to change their methods. Most likely hoped that God would intervene.

I ask you, is medical science not what people have been praying for since the beginning of time?

Why didn't these schools have trusted medical resources?

I doubt children died at comparable rates in similar rural circumstances. 

Crocodile Dundee II

Back at it.

Livin' the cosmopolitan crescendo with carefree commitment and resonant calm, his bucolic mannerisms and coy misunderstandings an immersive backwoods buoyant imbroglio (Paul Hogan as Crocodile Dundee). 

His wife continues reporting interrogatively investigating fiction and fact (Linda Kozlowski as Sue Charlton), while enjoying the comforts of bold unpredictable youthful regenerative domesticity. 

But she was married once before and her daring ex-husband has taken perilous photographs (Dennis Boutsikaris as Bob Tanner), of a blunt unforgiving cacophonous execution overflowing with diabolical intrigue. 

He fears for his life and sends her the photos but their destination is soon intercepted, the ne'er-do-wells following them to bustling New York where they engage in flagrant kidnapping.

Crocodile soon learns of his wife's disappearance and comes up with a plan to facilitate rescue, enlisting the aid of a local network of free-wheeling chillaxed non-traditional peeps.

Their unorthodox plan is indeed a success but Dundee doesn't trust the witness relocation program.

And heads with his wife to the hospitable outback.

To range and rustle secluded down under.

A delicate blend of the grim and the gossamer mischievously materializes at ease within the film, as a lighthearted spirit prone to adventurous reckoning reconciles wisdom with resolute tact.

Indigenous knowledge inviolable custom effortlessly guides his freeform endeavours, nature encyclopedically grasped and authenticated through active study and lively application.

The script's logic may perhaps raise questions regarding the plausibility of a detail here and there, the kidnappers pursuit perhaps rather foolhardy considering their destination and incomprehension.

It isn't really that concerned with probability or likelihood however, just that you love the rugged Crocodile as he interacts and explores in different environs.

He is a fascinating character and well-worth checking out if you're unfamiliar. His films were incredibly popular in my youth and I still love watching them to this day.

Traditional gender roles are even creatively deconstructed as Mick discovers urban flexibility, and adapts to the equanimous rhythms of multifaceted abstract economies. 

There's remarkable bush in the wilds of Québec and Canada as well, but I don't recall ever seeing a rural/urban divide ever examined so respectfully in a homegrown film.

Lots of potential there anyways.

Building bridges.

Can't wait to see more of Québec. 

With Charles S. Dutton (Leroy Brown), Kenneth Welsh (Brannigan), Stephen Root (DEA Agent), John Meillon (Walter Reilly), Steve Rackman (Donk), Gerry Skilton (Nugget), and Maggie Blinco (Ida).