Shazam! Fury of the Gods

And while engaging in acts of heroism the mighty Wizard's Staff was torn asunder, and the powerful spells it had indeed cast broken, thereby encouraging blatant disharmonies.

The daughters of Atlas in fact wildly reinvigorated at last, the staff having kept them interminably imprisoned within a labyrinthine ancient realm.

Obsessed with divine pretensions and extravagant disastrous displays, they seek to rob Shazam and his friends of their powers, with even more fury than the Philly Press!

Yet feuding erupts amongst them since they can't agree upon a plan, the youngest having fallen for trusty Freddy, the eldest comporting herself with age old wisdom. 

But in the middle lies contemptuous envy who remains inconsolable, bitter and wrathful, and rather than simply pursuing peace it unleashes hellbent devastating carnage.

Mythological beasts and a ferocious dragon attempt to lay waste to the oblivious planet, who once dared to divide their realms, contemporary generations having no idea.

Shazam must come to terms with his habitual doubt and long lasting depression, to embrace the strength resiliently needed to definitively challenge the irascible god.

And deep down in emboldened depths he bravely searches for formidable traction.

To challenge the delirious dragon (cool to see Lucy Liu riding a dragon).

With every ounce of extant vitality. 

Much less sure of himself than Batman or even Clark Kent or the furtive Blue Beetle, Shazam struggles with excessive self-criticism which at times results in self-defeating paralysis. 

As I've mentioned before, logical self-criticism is an effective tool as generally recommended, but it needs to be balanced with reasonable confidence to ensure spirited soulful synergies.

As Shazam! Fury of the Gods proves with resonant disputatious self-awareness, to champion honest mass exclamation through sensational tasked theatrics.

What to make of the ecstatic blend of ancient mythology and modern culture, the regenerative protean of metastasized matrices habitually enabling multivariable mélanges. 

The claim to humanistic divinity still remains widely challenged.

Keeping within realistic rationales.

To avoid mad imperialistic expansion (go Kamala!).

*Still makes for fun movies though.

Babysitter

If you're conservatively religious or not into gender-bending, I don't recommend this film. 

Even if it's one of the best films I've ever seen.

Too much inhibition and a freeform embrace of reckless honest indiscretion, lead to sociopolitical complications after a rowdy husband kisses a reporter.

The news spreads swiftly far and wide and reputation and occupation are soon jeopardized, the foolish manifestation of an adolescent prank thoroughly enveloped in critical ubiquity. 

He attempts to make amends by writing a book to wholeheartedly apologize, but still fails to understand the issue with passionate sincere conscious remorse. 

I don't know if it's supposed to be funny as he haplessly attempts to make things right, and struggles to understand what he's done wrong through the sudden immersion in advanced semantics.

Brilliant director Monia Chokri seems to be humorously illustrating the enormous gulf, between the rambunctious contemporary caveman and new developments in feminist theory.

His well-meaning brother makes things even worse as his good intentions are led astray, by improvised overwhelming waking dreams wherein which he reifies chivalric reconnaissance. 

Unfortunately, he's been somewhat unsuccessful regarding his relations with sustained pair-bonding, and his lack of traditional mutually concordant harmonies have transformed his hypotheses into nightmares.

They hire a babysitter to take care of the child while coming to terms with the media sensation. 

The wife so jaded every practical utterance suggestively radiating bitter irony.

It may be the most hilarious film I've ever seen made on Québecois soil, I haven't laughed this hard since I was a child, the intricate detail indubitably mesmerizing.

It's like every second was delicately crafted by a supportive team each sharing their gifts, a perfect synthesis of dialogue and sound productively edited with astounding precision. 

It's not just that she's taking on Xavier Dolan this film is better than so much of Godard and Truffaut, an incredible mélange of domestic politics internationally applicable to worldwide genius.

It made me think of ye olde Sedmikrásky (Daisies) or Le Tigre or Masseduction or Antisocialites, like an immaculate conglomerate of essences multilaterally matriculated matronly maelströms.

Sad the materialistic lack of voluble longlasting progressive initiatives, frustrating to see the march of history beguilingly devastating incumbent resonance. 

Perhaps a costume is appropriate something out of the ordinary beyond infatuation, dressing up and solemnizing oblivion like thoughtful exercise for terminal distress.

Babysitter still makes a play to significantly change the masculine world.

They say fortune favours the bold.

Who's bold enough for this masterpiece?