Frankenstein

Once again, literate compassion for the soulful and tender reanimated beast, stitched together reconstituted to forever cheat vainglorious mortality.

When left alone far off and sheltered his innate world-weary warm-heart shines through, his resplendent inner-beauty impeccably beaming with forthright enriching illuminated humanism.

Such a shame that fleeting appearances mean so so so much in the eyes of so many, when countless wise and spiritual educators proactively rationalize the sheer illusion.

At times, it applies both ways to sights pleasant or disagreeable to the eye, both generally distasteful to tenacious treatises and their orthodox criticisms of aesthetics and disconcertment. 

But acting without concern for the inherent nature of unalterable characteristics, leads to much more pleasant thoughtful dialogue in terms of multivariable individual expression.

Through the mass cultivation of the many the reliance on appearance wholeheartedly fades, and sprightly exclamatory universals collectively diversify through latent whimsy.

Thus the blind inclinations which recklessly lead towards herd classifications, relatively loosen their stubborn prejudices and once again nurture the youthful life.

But Frankenstein's creation is herded and ruthlessly attacked through no fault of his own, and then elaborately made to suffer for having striven to defend himself.

That was what struck me from the novel anyways as I imagine I've mentioned before, the poor isolated creature alone and scared secretly monitoring the woodland family.

Completely unaware of his strength and innocently oblivious to old world hatreds, still faintly hoping to engage in conversation to not have to dwell forsaken in shadow.

That's always been the story for me not the depressing antagonistic aftermath. 

Which The Dodo challenges every day. 

Through the heartwarming preservation of life. 

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. 

Murder on the Orient Express

Possessing an inexhaustible gift for anaesthetizing extraordinarily complex behemoths, resolved riddles exemplifying multidisciplinary mettle, Agatha Christie's Hercule Poirot (Kenneth Branagh) fittingly decides it's time for a vacation, and boards the lauded Orient Express in search of computational repose.

But just as he begins to exercise his literary imagination, a hardened degenerate comes a quizzically calling, in search of world renowned vigilance, to serve and protect his undignified exemptions.

Having already proven that dignity is something he regards philosophically inasmuch as he takes manifold vicissitudes into intellectual account before making variable judgments, he still refuses the thug's request and continues to seek solitude.

Only to awaken to discover that a fellow passenger has been, murdered, and that he must therefore astutely detect once more, to avoid indirectly condoning the free movement of violent criminals.

His voyage having been impeded by a serendipitous avalanche.

He flexes inquisitively.

As his investigation commences.

Kenneth Branagh's Murder on the Orient Express condenses the famed detective's sleuthing into a series of short but meaningful exchanges, each fully charged with guilt and inculpability, cloaked details deductively electrifying a productive narrative gridiron.

With somewhat more formal spectacle (production value) than I'm used to seeing in stories concerning culturally elevated investigatory phenomenons.

I rather enjoy watching the great detectives/inspectors/private investigators/dudes piece together clues delineating nefarious acts, with my parents, but I'm more used to seeing them explore within televisual boundaries.

I'm happy to see the actors who haven't yet become heartthrobs, starlets, or characters on demand cut their chops in a well written episode (usually around 2 hours in length), and am often not that concerned with how much screen time they each receive.

Indubitably.

When this format is given a much larger budget, as it should be more regularly, with many more famous actors, I certainly appreciate the cinematography, along with corresponding cinematic eccentricities, but if it ends with one of my favourite actors not having been given a larger role, when they could have been, or if the pressures of having more critical exposure make it seem rushed, it can be somewhat of a disappointment, one which might have been dismissed had their been a lower budget with multiple unknowns.

That isn't to say I didn't enjoy Branagh's take on Poirot, the cunning nature of the collective revenge reverberating with vindicated compunction.

Poirot himself mesmerizes, and the eclectic yet cohesive jigsaw cast commands the puzzling scenes judiciously.

Another 45 to 90 minutes though, too much of a commercial focus (were Frost or Morse ever trying to make money?[the commercial approach worked more successfully for Guy Ritchie methinks]), how many more tributaries could have been navigated with that much more time?

Thus, I'm hoping there's an extended version coming out soon, which adds more depth of character to a film that's already highly thought provoking as it scintillatingly yet diminutively reprimands.

Thor

The mighty god Thor (Chris Hemsworth) has been cast from Asgard by his despondent father (Anthony Hopkins as Odin) after having behaved recklessly, thereby derailing his people's age old truce with the unfortunately named Frost Giants (of Jotunheim). Sent to Earth to learn what it means to lead, Thor struggles with both his mortal form and newfound feelings for resilient scientist Jane Foster (Natalie Portman).

I may be exaggerating the struggle somewhat.

Back in Asgard, the jealous and deceitful Loki (Tom Hiddleston) takes advantage of both his brother's absence and father's collapse to place himself upon the unoccupied throne.

Thor's hammer Mjolnir has also been sent to Earth but a spell has been cast upon it which ensures that it can only be retrieved by one who is pure of heart.

Can Thor make the necessary sacrifices in order to be able to wield his hammer once again, or will Loki's pact with the Frost Giants bring about a chilling end to centuries of uninterrupted peace?

The introduction of S.H.E.I.L.D works well to establish a terrestrial dimension within Thor's divine ambitions, but watching as slick and cool government organizations commandeer a scientist's life work in the interests of the greater good gave me somewhat of a stomach ache.

Out of all of Thor's secondary characters, Foster's assistant and mentor forge the most lasting impression due to the ways in which they juxtapose cheeky disengaged spontaneity with shrewd weathered experience, Foster charging confidently and prudently through their generational centre (Kat Dennings as Darcy Lewis and Stellan Skarsgård as Dr. Erik Selvig). Heimdall's (Idris Elba) embodiment of vigilance and loyalty, made all the more durable by his formidable intelligence and strength, like a domesticated Grizzly Bear, also works well.

The scenes wherein Loki enacts his treason do not work well and their development pales in comparison to those within which Thor comes of age.

Which aren't that great either.

Cain and Able meets Superman II in order to dislodge the Hammer in the Stone?

Thor entertains but lacks the depth of Iron Man or even Iron Man 2. The plot is generally predictable and there are few scenes which inspire even the slightest misgivings about what will happen next. Generating such misgivings is tough to do, but exceptional films find a way to make their universe so enthralling that they briefly transport us to another realm within which we sincerely care about what will happen due to its captivating multidimensional focus (this is where manufactured randomness and bizarre observations can work well if they don't seem manufactured).

I liked Thor's principal message and it is deep, but it lacks the fantastic lightning strike required to generate thunderous applause.

I guess the difference between Thor and a film like Fast Five is that while watching Fast Five I wasn't expecting to encounter such a strike. Hence I was content to just sit back and be entertained.