Chicken Run: Dawn of the Nugget

Geez Louise.

Am I to understand that the British Isles released a mass marketed children's film in/directly promoting vegetarianism as a major theme, as opposed to ye olde traditional "beefy" pub fare, which also presents a framework for revolution? 

Am I also to understand that Chicken Run: Dawn of the Nugget is a sequel to a film which promotes the rebellious aforementioned with equally family friendly camp stratagems (meaning the original wasn't crushed by the American Meat Eating Colossus)?

Almost 50% of the British population voted to remain part of the European Union, and I imagine the Chicken Run franchise wholeheartedly showcases their progressive impeti.

Indeed, as Dawn of the Nugget began and I noticed the controversial subtext, I figured there was no way the film was made in the U.S, and that it might have come from Scandinavia. 

Brainwashing is even a prominent theme as chickens are tricked into thinking their lives are wonderful, just before being transformed into nuggets, it unconsciously upholds critical eviscerations. 

By doing so, it fights the trillion dollar ad industry as it routinely promotes ye olde chicken nuggets, by inadvertently suggesting we've been brainwashed as consumers again and again and again.

It's a film created by Adorno's Culture Industry which works within that industry itself, to once again bring to life the alternative continuums Sanders's Oligarchs would destroy (imagine the Democrats had gone with Sanders [it hurts too much!]).

Thus, we "feel compelled to consume these products even though we see through them", and if one pays close enough attention, occasionally they're rewarded as they consume films that help them realize that they've been compelled to consume products that are intensely cruel and mean-spirited (for further viewing see They Live).

Usually, there's an overt declaration within them that nothing can stop or modify the master narrative, the animals missing life in the zoo in Madagascar, the pigs turning on everyone in Animal Farm.

That doesn't happen here however the film ends with even stronger revolutionary tendencies. 

And a preference for hard fought freedom.

From the relentless American machine.

*Choose Europe! The EU is much stronger with Britain!

Bedlambience

Cyclically fated to hesitantly contend, the animals of the forest aligned themselves en masse, within and without the town which they inhabited, as the habitual schematics of their natures mutated.

The mice were typically afraid of cats who vehemently critiqued their colonialist endeavours, and skittishly hid from them in shadows while they austerely ruled the roost.

Simultaneously, the frisky felines sought haughty refuge from the fishers, who sought them out and about the town and were inclined to facetious wickedness. 

The fishers couldn't hide from the wolves however who were sincerely irritated by their standing, and adamantly composed themselves adroitly to boldly limit their expanding numbers.

One mouse was cunning nevertheless and taught his brethren to unite as one, and chase away the intrusive cats who were causing so much disastrous trouble.

The cats then followed suit and ferociously fought off the wanton fishers, who also abandoned their traditional independence and were able to fight off the wolves.

Not fight off I suppose, a rather messy state of affairs developed. 

Known as the postmodern wilderness. 

In improvised collective verdant flow.

I liked how the bears stayed out of it and just minded their own business, feasting on vegetation and nuts and honey it's a bear's life to be sure ad infinitum.

As far as the madness goes clever civilized rights seemed to be emerging, through the aggrieved disputes and senseless loss of life the affected animals came to an understanding.

Thankfully supernatural order kept the populations reasonably balanced, and no one was able to wildly annihilate their future endemic friends and neighbours. 

If only the reasonable balance could manifest headlines like the alternative.

And keep the populace entranced in awe.

As widespread goodwill acutely flourished. 

Synthesizer

Travelling for ages stranded in space the home world reduced to smouldering ruin, industrious progress warlike ambition scientific miscalculation environmental crisis. 

We had plenty of ships to make a run for it to try to find a similar planet, upon which to make a fresh civilized start so far away from the dissonant chaos. 

The new world we found abounded with life and had plenty of room for cultural development, but we had to learn how to live what to eat the different seasons shelter cultivation.

There were many gigantic ferocious beasts who at times observed us with fleeting curiosity, it was best to avoid them although they were rather fascinating in their own otherworldly ways.

There were people like us on the planet but they were 1000s of years behind, they had no concept of interplanetary travel let alone space fuel or nanotechnology. 

They knew their world quite well though and as several winters slowly passed.

We began to socialize and mingle and integrate.

Eventually forging newfound species. 

The origins of the bourgeoisie still a tricky subject for global debate, where and when in how many variations has it developed throughout the millennia?

As they passed and the home world was forgotten and myths and legends facilitated dreams, experimental interactive voyages helped the seed to grow and flourish.

An emerald isle far off the coast was thought to be a receptive open-minded hotbed, and festive sociocultural adaptations dynamically celebrated the emergent freckles.

Some thought the aliens had been betrayed by their skittish desperate despondent kinsfolk, others realized the sincere admiration they gradually gained for local culture.

Sigh, it's just a movie you know, I only know this from observing mosquitoes, one horrid fecund spring when dozens invaded my tent each evening.

I had to dispose of them unfortunately before I could fall asleep, so I patiently picked them off one by one on my tent's ceiling a tragic situation.

But there were always three or four slier little bugs who quietly hid in the corners, waiting for me to fall asleep so they could efficiently gorge themselves uninterrupted.

Thus, differences in human temperaments weren't created by alien colonists.

They've existed alongside us all along.

To the observant eye.

Endemic themes.

The Boy and the Heron

Tumultuous tragedy bellicose bombardment inhospitable hegemony disconsolate disaster, wartime waspish wincing saturnine dismal devastation laconic lockdown.

A spirited move out of harm's way felicitous fortunes august acculturation, incumbent sadness besought fatigue synchronized siesta voltaic vroom.

Resilient retinue gregarious gatherings sycamore sympathy symphonic stack, unhindered wanderings atavistic adventures non-sequitarzany clandestine quests. 

Distressing disappearance worrisome whittling Sombretown searching hearty solemnity, immersive quandary querulous kibble flexible physics asymmetric stone.

Intangible tinsel impalpable pulp amorphous dimension sibilant sorcery, spiritual succotash insouciant sushi transformative quadrant juxtaposition. 

Whambient wavelengths fantastic frequencies imaginative hyper-reactive illusion, bewildernestled oblique immaterial shapeshifting quagmiracult-de-saquesters.

Archaic sentiment serpentine simplicity quaker o'tantamount reanimation, consistent regroupings chrysalid coordinates oblong addresses arhythmic artistry. 

Aquadrilatticeworkinder'eggstatic palimperception existentorian, quintessenshisha hurrisugarcandolittle exubearingstraitjacket willowridesharangue. 

Sublimerickshawshankbernard encompassing subterranean nexus, dreamlichintegritty gruel mossemboss'kosh granknitty slimpickety bandanana. 

Subconscious sandmanic slumberton reverie quixoticambridge i'deal'emblematic, elephanatic rhinosirriustic wildebeesturnstyle crocodilettantics.

Vacancy velvet caroussel candleliturgy seasaunter Mirvishlistless incredulity, acceleration inquisitive maven curious exquisite tournyquil'bation.

Accented effervest hogtirade levity interlude schism cosmicrobull mist, courageous acoustics tumbledown tweedle discursive reunion familial galaxy. 

Saw a heron the day after I watched this.

In an uncharacteristic spot.

It didn't fly away either, like they usually do when you're up close.

Neat.

I've seen every Ghibli. 

E.T

The decent of an alien spacecraft tantalizingly generates communal interest, but the bold residents arrive too late to wholesomely facilitate freeform greetings. 

The aliens depart quite swiftly yet distressingly leave behind one of their own, who makes his way through the foreign land until he finds homemade random shelter.

A young lad left out of the games enthusiastically played by his brother and friends, soon locates the courageous alien but his story is disbelieved.

Not that long after he manages to bring the chill integral extraterrestrial, back inside his lodgings to stay thus until alternative arrangements can be made.

He doesn't mention the new friendship to his mom but his older brother and younger sister soon find out, and they make quite the chillaxed team as they interactively explore different dimensions. 

Soon the young boy who found him discovers they share a special bond, that he can feel what his alien friend feels as he goes about his inquisitive business.

But the powers that be have also taken note and know that a being from space is hiding.

And take obnoxious steps to invasively find him.

While untethered youth bridges fascination. 

Childhood dreams congenially manifested as heartfelt amicable friendship blossoms, and the spirited exuberance of youngsters at play invariably illustrates fun and mischief.

Animal integrity viscerally shines through as attempts to dissect frogs go haywire, and the dynamic amphibians emphatically escape from cold and calculated experimentation. 

I wonder if that scene has left a lasting impression on public schooling, I know I never had to dissect frogs in class, perhaps it was like that elsewhere in North America?

E.T celebrates the wonders of life as the gentle alien makes things grow, he or she possesses the miraculous gift to exotically encourage spontaneous regeneration. 

There's something to be said for lighthearted science-fiction that generously concerns itself with freeflowing life, and isn't intently focused on conflict even one of the authorities takes a shine to Elliot. 

Elsewhere, to see Spielberg's genius at work, when Elliot's mom first meets E.T she's holding a cup of coffee.

You'd expect her to drop that cup and for it to smash on the floor.

But Spielberg has her pour the coffee slowly down on the ground instead.

To outwit expectations.

I imagine it's still a must-see.

**Did you know that E.T, Star Trek II, Blade Runner, and John Carpenter's The Thing all came out in the same summer? That's gotta be the best sci-fi summer ever. What a time to be a budding young film buff! 

Dune

It's a shame Dune ended up being a negative experience for David Lynch. Some of it's very well done. I still love watching it year after year.

Some of the heavier action sequences like when the Harkonnens attack Arrakis or the sandworm battle at the end, don't fare as well as those that you find in Star Wars or Star Trek, and a lot of movie goers tend to focus on those transitions which are often filled with nail-biting excitement.

It would be nice to watch a copy without the consistent inner-character monologues as well, too bad it wasn't as huge as Blade Runner and such an alternative was never released.

Nonetheless, in classic Lynchean style the scenes with the villains still seriously impress, especially the introduction of the Harkonnens which I would argue is some of Lynch's best work.

It's grotesque and terrifying and over-the-top and the attention to detail is so immaculate, along with the chilling production design all focused around Kenneth McMillan's performance. 

I've seen him show up in other films where he didn't have a serious role, in Dune he steals the show though, alongside many prominent actors.

Lynch also thrillingly excelled with his less psychotic sublime nobility, notably during the scenes with Dr. Kynes when they head out to look over spice production. 

When Duke Leto demonstrates that he truly cares for the integral lives of his working people, it's a powerful moment that evocatively captures the democratic spirit of the times.

Kyle MacLachlan has his moments too as does Patrick Stewart, Siân Phillips, Francesca Annis, and Brad Dourif, in interviews I've seen with actors Lynch worked with the genuine admiration clearly shines through.

If you want to see Lynch the editor at work you should compare the theatrical version to the full-length feature, the excessively long studio-cut version that he had his name removed from.

It is much much much worse and you can see Lynch's genius in full swing, when you watch his director's cut and see how he saved so many scenes.

With strong performances, a complex plot, an intricate unique production design, along with his trademark wicked villainy, Lynch's version still impresses.

Denis Villeneuve's films are remarkably well done too and I hope he gets the next Star Wars franchise.

I hope they stick with one director for the entire run.

He's a contemporary sci-fi master. 

Star Trek: Generations

I wonder how those old shows that I grew up watching every day, for so many years of my life, are currently regarded by the viewing public.

No doubt the manifest enthusiasm ebbs and flows from realm to juridiction, and even within open-minded circles trends and novelties come and go.

Without conducting a Foucauldian investigation I imagine interest is still strong nevertheless, and I recall seeing The Original Series trending on Netflix less than 5 years ago.

It doesn't age, especially after you stop watching TV for years and then one day find yourself sitting down to watch an episode, the VHS copy you recently found at a thrift store in far reaching wholesome working condition.

It was a Next Generation cassette and humbly featured Jean-Luc Picard, whose leadership style wholeheartedly disseminates a virtuous contradiction to Trump.

He listens closely to what others are saying and sincerely values their opinions, and looks forward to fair negotiations that treat different parties with mutual respect.

He's as anti-Trump as they come and a solid example for leaders to follow, the show's called Star Trek: The Next Generation, and it presents administrators who aren't buffoons.

But back in the day, The Original Series generally ruled the cultural roost, and was usually regarded as the cherished frontrunner when it came to comparisons between the series.

People were therefore uncertain how The Next Generation films would do, having to follow the trusted footsteps of the original widespread broadcast sensation. 

In hindsight, The Original Series showcases potentially timeless episodes, that I still love to watch every 5 years or so, unlike so much old school television.

It was cancelled early though perhaps dues to the interracial kiss, and religious criticisms of a popular world so far beyond rigid biblical discipline.

The Next Generation had a longer run and was able to do a lot more consequently.

So many clever intricate storylines.

I can't believe they didn't make more films.

It's tempting to just watch the movies because watching movies is always tempting, but try to save Star Trek: Generations until you've watched The Original Series, the first six Star Trek films, and the entire Next Generation run.

You'll appreciate Kirk meeting Picard so much more if this is the course you follow.

It's not as bad as some critics claim.

There are some issues (how can you just leave the Nexus and physically go anywhere you want in time for instance?).

But it's still really cool year after year. 

Virtuosity

It's fun to watch old films from the '90s which theorized this and that about the future of the internet, I can't say if they're that different from today's, COVID and freetime cut me off from contemporary cinema. 

In ye olde Virtuosity lifelike programs are made to live in virtual reality, and one escapes from the cyberspatial realm to siliconically exist in the real world.

The question is, is that possible and if so could it prove the existence of spirit, as ethereally applied to divine orchestrations awkwardly attuned to in/organic life?

If we are building new worlds within which cyberconsciousnesses exist, do they wonder about other dimensions as they fictionally cascade?

Like whales hypothesizing if they can exist with the agile gods above on land, do cybercharacters in virtual environments see our dominion like we imagine heaven?

The codes to life the byzantine genes the duplication of which produce cloned lifeforms, facilitating existence with frank-in-sense as a working model through lithe conception.

If our ability to create cyberworlds suggest we also exist in a cyberworld, and that its building blocks can be scientifically decoded with enticing mathematical precision, does the ability to travel interdimensionally not emphatically invoke potential, having decoded our specific world, and built another, could we not transmutate? 

The key would be to build the bridge between a cyberworld and our own, to find the code that could vivaciously manifest virtual spirit in physical confines (like they do in Virtuosity).

If a way was found to transfer consciousness or animate lifeforces into virtual realms, or bring cyberlifeforms into our world it would suggest we could move on up.

In other words, by transforming a human consciousness into cyberspace and giving it life within that realm, and then bringing it back safely into our own to rematerialize, we could theoretically dissect the codes of our existence, find out how they're built, and contact heaven.

But would we be like the beached whale alone and isolated and unable to move?

And would the gods attempt to shove us back?

Until we could make a more traditional connection.

Not the kind of project to volunteer for unless there are millions in compensation for your family.

Should you wind up in the void forever.

Substantially meaningless, intangibly sound. 

Ferris Bueller's Day Off

The incorrigible urge the inexhaustible dilemmas audaciously fuelling insurmountable daring, as reflexively situated albeit within imaginative unorthodox compelling gambits.

A day off school intuitively organized with intricate planning and demonstrative skill, mom and dad effectively falling for the ornate scheme with adorable generous loving compassion.

What to do with a full day off while others work and study and research, it's no doubt time to hit the town with creative friends and a wild agenda?!

Word spreads of the distressing illness and communal sympathy encouragingly erupts, as the sights and sounds of versatile Chicago fill a day's fortunes with laidback exception.

But the administration adamantly refuses to obligingly believe the open-minded story, and sets out on a mad concentrated obsessed unyielding quest to locate the lad.

His sister also remains furious after their admiring parents react empathetically.

Emancipated vision.

Holistic embrace.

Freeform lackadaisics. 

Festive revelry.

This was my favourite of the John Hughes films so widely popular in my youth, the nutso envisioning of rebellious fluency exceedingly inclined to diligently chill.

The first 30 minutes are an imaginative treat as Hughes skilfully plays with different narrative styles, and commandingly showcases alternative techniques which are highly advanced and correspondingly influential.

Critics of the time were rather dismissive and I didn't figure out why until I hit my late thirties, but my youthful admiration won out in the end as I dismissed my uptight less-mesmerized evaluations (Rooney goes way too far, it's tough to believe an academic would behave that way).

Matthew Broderick delivers the performance of a lifetime and charismatically shines in the title role, Alan Ruck also memorably concocting they both still show up in movies 40 years later.

Mia Sara, Jennifer Grey, Edie McClurg, and Jeffrey Jones impress as well. 

Much more than just kids skipping school.

A unique exhilarating celebration of life!

Crossworlds

Another time, a different ethos effectively guiding and teaching and nurturing, instructive discernment generating calculi, directly concerned with democratic birth.

Thus the narrative examines the oft critiqued discourse of the many, and the general difficulties at times arising from forming multilateral conzensai.

The inherent feuding the passionate conceptions the multiple viewpoints the limited time, can negatively affect a progressive agenda when animately called to efficiently govern.

How to collectively prioritize specific criteria for implementation, when immaculate difference innately illuminates sundry equitable alternative possibilities?

Fortunately, at reasonable times the definitive trust placed in a leadership team, resiliently results in universal action widely supported by different groups.

Hence Jagmeet Singh and Justin Trudeau were able to accomplish so much with limited time, and improve the lives of millions of Canadians with anti-scab legislation and accessible dentistry. 

But times changed and the spectrum shifted much more to the right and disaster loomed, at which point the Liberals found a more conservative leader who still demonstrated heart at the end of the day (political brilliance).

Thankfully it worked in Canada and the authoritarian impulse was rebuked, the doctrine of manifold conflicting agendas resolutely upheld for another mandate.

Perhaps it seems chaotic to some when a more streamlined agenda is delineated, and the substantial interests of a smaller segment of a robust population are widely transmitted.

But, as Spock points out, do the needs of the many not collectively outweigh, those of the diligent few who can't generally agree with less fanatical hardline dictates. 

Crossworlds doesn't present a superhero to intriguingly uphold its democratic thrust, a constructive studious no-nonsense human is collaboratively chosen to contend instead.

To confront the imperial forces seeking to see dynamic worlds enslaved.

Like the subway riders in The Darkest Hour.

Courageously endowed.

Formidably resolved. 

Sanjuro

The improvised planning of the itinerant samurai much more fluid in the cerebral Sanjuro, after a group of younger emboldened citizens discover a plot to dispose of an elder.

The samurai meets them by chance on a world-weary voyage leading to their door, where they innocently plan their audacious activities with impulsive daring and simplistic fortitude. 

Little do they know, they're being surrounded by the very same scoundrels they hope to challenge, who have brought at least 100 men to unceremoniously ambush them.

The samurai uncovers the plot and quickly overcomes his habitual boredom, immediately employing his requisite cunning like a grand-chess-master to outmaneuver the danger.

He swiftly realizes the group is honourable and therefore decides to offer his protection, putting advanced logic and reason to work in the adventurous aid of the sublime do-gooders.

But his lacklustre bearing his indolent mood doesn't quickly win over their skeptical hearts, especially since he drinks too much saké and at crucial times seems distant and irritated. 

They find when they listen to his strategic counsel they usually outwit their foes nevertheless.

And after much heated arguing amongst themselves, eventually agree to suffer his temper.

Not as explosive as many a chaotic borderline reckless wild samurai movie, but still quite endearing to strategic minds who truly love spur-of-the-moment planning.

Truly like an active chess game where each single move must be delicately balanced, the hardboiled yet caring demonstrative leader entertaining his students while refuting their folly (like the opposite of Trump's daily antics).

It's fun to watch as they impudently quarrel with the wise honest master lending a hand, alas no matter how many times he saves them they still adamantly doubt his chill erudition. 

The samurai is thrilling to watch if you like free confident ingenious odd heroes, whose skills are so genuinely imposing they take spectacular risks as if they were simply gardening (with bears).

Like a formidable saviour guarding the just from bellicose foolishness in corrupt mortal lands, the warrior proceeds with ethical daring even though he could have kept wandering alone.

From village to village the unruly countryside curiously wondering who will suddenly show up.

And add some spice to bucolic life.

At times routine, yet never overdone. 

Ashes & Diamonds

With the joyous end of World War II comes further political conflict to Poland, as opposing ideological viewpoints daringly clash in the chaotic foreground. 

The communist regiments seem poised to take power after having gallantly helped dispose of Hitler, the surviving citizens reminding the elite that they've already seen far too much dismal bloodshed.

But the traditional league of orthodox clemency bellicosely seeks to thwart their ambitions, and hires assassins to grimly dispose of a high ranking Secretary poised to take power.

The courageous target hasn't been sighted due to anything specific regarding his character, but rather because his dead wife's sister has fascist pretensions and simply can't stand him.

With him gone, she can raise his son however she sees fit at the end of the war, the spiral of violence and subjective intrigue awkwardly infiltrating domestic reserves. 

As the man hired to kill him finds himself enamoured with a stunning luxurious barmaiden.

And begins to consider the married life.

Forbidden for so many years.

The tragic irony accompanying the victory so widely celebrated around the world, of the further continuation of hardhearted violence emphatically leading to civil conflicts.

Rather than festively enjoying the victory and considering alternatives to gruelling strife, the carnal urge to interminably fight recklessly drives so many soldiers.

Ashes & Diamonds brilliantly covers the provocative feisty post-war ground, with internal struggles and diabolical hypocrisy seamlessly co-existing through determinate grit. 

Multiple characters and distinct scenarios effervescently mingle with manifold whimsy, with more resonance than even Doctor Zhivago as it convincingly humanizes intriguing dysfunction. 

The old school duke, the whelp climbing the ladder, the drunken attendant, the maître'd, the inaugurated minister, the jaded cleaning lady, the tragic victims, the belligerent son, so many substantial and spirited characters imaginatively populating a volatile world, none less intriguing indeed than the would be couple who meet mid-conspiracy.

Domestic bliss presenting itself as an option.

As world weary indelicate tensions flare.

Decisions made, consequences reckon. 

On the eve of the postmodern dawn.

*Excellent film.

The Adventures of Baron Munchausen

The recreational impulse to tell lively tales improvisationally immersed in exotic wonder, effectively drives so much interactivity as days slowly pass and nights stall and linger.

There are so many rules to strictly follow that sensational stories encourage emancipation, being able to fly or breathe under water miraculously motivating agile daydreams.

For children ensconced in unknown consistently reimagined otherworldly lessons, many of which wildly champion imagination the fledgling instincts to revel cathartic. 

Yet balanced with practical reasoning the traditional realities corresponding to our species, birds fly and fish breathe under water while chipmunks and squirrels don't want to be pets.

Distressing unsettling to be sure as one soulfully seeks corporeal independence, to leave the confines of the body behind and transform into pure energy like they do on Star Trek.

Evolution acclimatizing piecemeal as centuries pass and eons articulate, the gradual biological attunements so subtle and microscopic they matriculate unnoticed.

Atemporally speaking still like fresh miracles the remarkable adaptations made to environments over time, many of which seem to have been accompanied by desires to collectively transform and easily acquire nutrients.

The slow passage of time ingenious in its bearings logically enables evolutionary traction, diverse environments habitually gathering sly multivariable communal constructs.

It's not to say to let dreams slowly fade and stoically embrace painstaking millennia, at night and on weekends the transmission of narratives creatively subsists to generate pause.

To fruitfully exercise unorthodox peculiarities through artistic invention and ludic lullaby, makes for less dull invigorating pastimes as things progress, revert or stagnate.

To recklessly play with constructed reality with poorly thought out alternative designs, if in a position of power and gaudy influence has destructive abrasive effects.

The disastrous ways in which the Second World War cacophonously devastated so much of the world, effortlessly critiques ambitious yearnings which ruthlessly seek what isn't for sale.

To remember the difference between fantasy and reality upon embarking on mature expeditions, doesn't mean the former can't be referenced but also encourages logic and reason.

Logic and reason are much more preferable day in and day out as the seasons pass by.

And cooler heads manage things through fact and instruction.

Without worrying about comment and headlines. 

Matango

The well-to-do imaginatively escape the bustling activity of mainland Japan, and relaxingly enjoy a tranquil voyage on the sultry seas within their yacht. 

Sequestered and tasked with nothing in particular they chill and lounge throughout the day, the resplendent sun and nourishing waters everlastingly inspiring creative song.

Little known to them however an invasive storm inauspiciously rises, suddenly taking them unawares as they desperately attempt to thwart its ambition.

Soon they awake, their vessel dispirited, in cognizant wonder and humbled pride, fortunately next to an isolated island perhaps upon which they can find rest and food.

But it's soon detected that many a bird refuses to land upon its branches, even though it's far out at sea and flight-weary-creatures could no doubt flock there.

A number of other sea-faring ships are also discovered beneath the waves, their captains and crews having long since vanished although where and when remains indeterminate.

The only food wildly growing in abundance is an ominous mushroom which coaxes temptation. 

The starving travellers exceedingly oblivious. 

To its rich mutative transformative properties.

Travelling the world by boat must have been incredibly dangerous in so many ways, notably trying to find fresh foods to eat when daringly embarking on newfound lands.

Each ship perhaps vigilantly carried remarkable science-officers like they do on Star Trek, who could experimentally determine or cleverly guess which new foods to eat within the interior.

Some ships many have not been so farsighted and may have rather relied on trial and error, dependable precedent invariably leading to nutritious success and prolonged mortality. 

In this instance, they may have applied themselves in harrowing error upon the island, as the edible mushrooms proved sedately intoxicating a reliance upon them quickly ended their voyage.

But alone in Tokyo having somehow managed to set a boat adrift back upon the Pacific, the lone survivor madly wishes he was safe and secure back upon the haunting island.

Missing his friends he wildly engages in uncharacteristic frenzied outbursts, the doctors watching with studious eyes as his body bears witness to mushroom consumption.

Thus, when travelling through space make sure to bring a food expert along, or suffer the same fate as these foolish plutocrats who once held the highest political offices.

It seems like a no-brainer but budgetary efficiencies often cut corners when planning expeditions. 

Unconcerned for the lives of their crews.

They set out with frugal inexactitude. 

Alien: Romulus

Alone on a colonized world pestiferously ill-suited to humanoid habitation, boldly caring for a kindly android who tries his best to raise her spirits.

A miraculous day defiantly emerges when temporal quotas are efficiently attained, but the corporation cruelly refuses to honour its word and perniciously adds on 5 to 6 years.

Her friends have a radical plan to circumvent slavery with audacious cunning, take a ship and resourcefully hijack cryostasis equipment to reach a far away world.

The daring plan is put into action and the required tools industriously discovered, but a serious hiccup objectively impedes their smooth star sailing across the universe.

For they've accidentally landed upon a virulent space station isolated and hauntingly adrift, whereupon mad elaborate experiments were viciously conducted to catalyze evolution. 

Indeed Weyland Corporation after all of these sequels has finally obtained their sought after serum, which unnaturally transforms biological organisms unfit for space into model citizens.

The same android schematic from the original Alien even malevolently pursues the despotic objective. 

Scientifically mutate contemporary DNA.

To create invincible übermensch. 

Fortunately, the opportunistic marauders aren't so blind to the disastrous potential, and valiantly ignore the robot's plans to bring the formula back down to their planet.

Note that as the excessively rich attempt to make cyborgs hundreds of thousands may be permanently damaged, if you want to give your life for the experiment wisely make sure they're giving you at least $20 million (or try to outlaw that kind of thing). 

Alien: Romulus looks back to its roots and even reanimates the alien from Alien, while paying homage to Aliens and Alien: Resurrection in its bleak horrifying yet hands-on testament (Walter Hill also produces). 

I'm not saying they aren't really cool movies I even bought the Quadrilogy over 20 years ago, but the possibility of escape of the collective reimagining of the cultural codes responsible for Weyland remain unchallenged. 

I thought Alien, Aliens, and Alien: Resurrection made me care more about their characters, that those films gave them more room to develop, genre films that focus on developing minor characters are so much cooler (and rewatchable).

Alien: Romulus spends a lot of its time developing the android Andy and the lead hero.

While indirectly commenting on education and cyborgs. 

There's a lot more to the movie than that. 

*If you're hoping that doesn't happen with the baby, it does.

Piccadilly

A popular night club routinely offers exceptional dynamic crowd pleasing performances, its dancers showcasing sundry coveted moves and flourishing finesse with fluid elegance.

The spice freely flows the rhythms distill freeflowing upbeat pleasant fun merrymaking, half their tables zealously reserved (by noon) intense sprightly jocose reliable industry.

But as so often happens, the urge to change one's steadfast surroundings bluntly coaxes, and one of the famous sought after dancers decides he'd rather entertain North America.

The blow is indeed distressing as dependable revenue streams quickly dry up, his equally flexible former partner remaining but not enough of a draw to firmly bring hundreds in.

Then one night an ornery client vehemently complains about a stain on his plate, which prompts the owner to visit the kitchen the scullery in fact where he finds a new spectacle. 

Soon the act is passionately displayed for the curious public who responds with praise, the newfound sensation turning critical heads and swiftly redefining the business's mantra.

But the old act once incredibly loved isn't as willing to be warm and pleasantly accommodating. 

The owner caught between the stubborn lithe rivals.

Following his heart, wherever it leads.

Several decades before the Civil Rights Movement emerged with formidable vigour, Piccadilly sought to break down race barriers with a bold and courageous daring silent film.

Released in England not the United States and in British cinemas not on American television, it still predates William Shatner and Nichelle Nichols's kiss by almost a dashing and carefree 30 years.

I don't know enough about silent films so I'm not sure if such stories were often told at the time, I just know from my own observations that I've rarely seen interracial tales pre-1960.

Pioneering no less and also cool to watch it's still a captivating film, I was interested to see something starring Anna May Wong after she appeared on the American quarter.

She was tired of being typecast in early Hollywood and moved to Europe to find more diverse roles so I'm told, bravery rewarded in this instance at least she clearly steals the show in Dupont's Piccadilly.

If curious about silent film and alternative ways to tell compelling tales, it's worth checking out for sure with many of its themes still resonating today.  

Action Jackson

A determined dedicated cop reservédly reputed to authentically infuriate, suddenly finds himself assigned to the plutocrat who disturbingly demoted him way back when.

Still not one to mince words he reestablishes their acquaintanceship rather discourteously, like a lot of hard-edged tales from the time blunt criticism confronting stately acrimony.

The ne'er-do-well in combative question is secretly murdering people to gain control, of a powerful union generally known to pursue social justice regarding the Presidency.

Hoping to control the union and thereby take over the White House, he comports himself tyrannically behind the scenes in his trusted realm.

Jackson learns of his malevolence and sets about applying aggrieved aggravation, but Dellaplane then kills his wife for having talked to him and lays the blame squarely on his shoulders.

With nowhere to go and few to rely on he finds himself adjudicating offbeat stages.

With the help of a nightclub singer.

And reliable visceral absurd awkward instinct. 

This film was severely critiqued upon its release in 1988, so I unfortunately never watched it, and always thought it lacked production values.

It's not Aliens or Die Hard or The Terminator but it holds its own with Rambo 2 or Raw Deal, meaning I'm surprised Weathers wasn't more of a leading man, as he took the fall for its praise of unions.

Thus, even though the How do you like your ribs? line is an instant classic for the action-packed ages, Action Jackson said positive things about forbidden gatherings in American culture.

It even makes unions look powerful and at the same time honest and proactive, it doesn't shortsightedly vilify them or call into question their versatile communities.

Cult status still effectively emerges along with the unsung unionist accolades, too bad Weathers never became a leading man, or had a career like Treat Williams or Roddy Piper (racism perhaps).

Still fun to see him whenever he popped up even if he wasn't leading the way.

Cool careers made in Hollywood like none other. 

Back in the hardboiled uprooted day.

Great Expectations

In ritual exile dismally fastened to permanently unaltered expressive decay, immutably unable to passively nurture piecemeal envisaged newfound exclamation. 

Abandoned on her festive wedding day while guests and relatives awkwardly attended, the resultant scourge cacophonous and shrill so ubiquitously disquieting she never recovered. 

But moderate remonstrance still boldly illuminated less morose pastures actively within, and a young jaunty lass was delicately instructed in the elegant ways of her former bearing.

But to be locked up away all alone with no one to play with throughout the day, lugubriously distressed the forsaken madame who freely set about discovering a friend.

The fortunate boy unaccustomed to sympathy and even less so to ceremonious eccentricity, fluidly fluctuated and instinctively managed to become a friendly playmate as time passed by.

The woebegone heiress still ideally immoveable as the young spirits mischievously opulently swayed, her house remaining lost atemporally defiant not one slight alteration since her wedding day.

No doubt an obsessive reaction stubbornly derelict and obtusely overwhelmed, still somewhat romantic in the execution of so much superfluous ornery extremity. 

She encourages the young girl to be cruel and even states she's free to break the lad's heart, an organ he'd no doubt freely part with should she see fit to impulsively crush it.

But wickedness aside they generally get on and playfully refuse to acrimoniously delegate, Miss Havisham in turn sinisterly supportive of their innocent fanciful nigh endeavours.

The house still doesn't alter and nothing is changed within, the lighthearted youthful imaginative symmetries still widely unable to facilitate thaw.

Even as they age and inevitably drift very far apart joy remains tightly bound, Pip still in love as he always has been, Estella still generally dismissive and bored. 

Miss Havisham still seems to like Pip even if she doesn't mind Estella's curt dismissals, and in the heavenly abridged yet stunning David Lean film she seems somewhat out of touch with her habitual irritation.

Imagine how much more could have indeed been creatively accomplished.

With a series of intricate films.

Challenging discursive conviviality.

Henry V

Was curious to see more of Laurence Olivier's celebrated work, and realized I had perhaps been somewhat hasty by overlooking his Shakespearian cult. 

Thus to return to the elegant bard whose gift for language surpasses so many, to once again bask in ingenious horseplay distilling eloquent novel reckonings.

I was impressed by Mr. Olivier in Henry V but not as blown away as I thought I would be, even if I struggled to think of who could best him, and only came up with a very short list.

The lack of mind-numbing esteem which I was unable to share with Olivier to be certain, is an unfortunate byproduct of his heroic method which he generously shares through rich humility.

That is, his Henry is modest and sincere much different from the vain boasting oft encountered these days, and although he still shines through with resonant fortitude, some of his genius may have been held back.

Not that I would have wanted him to brag or gloat or bluntly engage in übermasculinity, but had he found himself in Branagh's more hardboiled film he may have had more time for intrigue and mischief (not that Branagh wasn't impressive himself, I haven't seen the film for 30 years but loved it in my youth [his Frankenstein wasn't very good though]).

I did wonder considering the times if Marlon Brando had ever tried the role, having recently watched The Godfather again and been genuinely blown away by his performance.

My mind switched to Brando and Shakespeare and I have to admit I couldn't come up with anything, until Google reminded me he had played Mark Antony long ago in Julius Caesar.

But he shockingly turned down Hamlet which if I'm not mistaken is a sought after role, it could very well have been that he preferred America and wasn't as enamoured with the best of Britain.

Olivier took on the role however I haven't seen it yet but will watch it soon, is there more bravery for embracing theatrical superlatives or mesmerizingly inventing fresh characters anew?

To see them both at odds on the stage may have seemed incredible no doubt way back when, but Britain often steers clear of the Americas, unless they're reunited in fantasy and science-fiction.

To dream humbly nevertheless of a stately dialectic theatrically apotheosized. 

Yet the giants often respect each other's talent.

And professionally leave so much up to the imagination. 

Godzilla vs. King Ghidorah

Unlike any Godzilla film I've seen before, Godzilla vs. King Ghidorah (1991) unreels as special effects were improving in Japan. They're still a long ways off from where they are now and a bit behind films like Star Wars or Aliens, but that doesn't mean the production team didn't use them as frequently and conspicuously as possible.

Plus, instead of using model vehicles real world tanks etc. were employed, more money spent on this instalment which radiates novel curiosity like none other.

Things are relatively peaceful in Japan as sundry professionals go about their business, a young writer tired of covering the supernatural hopes to break into the nonfiction market.

He hears a tale of an extant dinosaur who saved a battalion during World War II, and wonders if it was indeed the very lifeform whom nuclear experiments transformed into Godzilla.

Meanwhile, ambassadors from the future suddenly arrive with mischievous intent, claiming that Godzilla is such a pest in the future that he threatens the very existence of atemporal Japan.

They have a copy of the writer's book and hope to use it to find the dinosaur, whom they will then transport to another location so he never absorbs the transformative radiation. 

But it soon becomes apparent that contemporary politicians have been duped, as three cute bat-like genetically altered animals are transformed into King Ghidorah!

As Ghidorah levels Japan people realize once again that they need Godzilla; will approximate manifested manipulations exotically enable further monstrous malevolence!

It's actually a lot more complicated than that director/writer Kazuki Ômori went all out on the script, perhaps too much for one single Godzilla film but no doubt a feast for the over-the-top senses.

My theory that some dinosaurs lived for a great deal of time after their mass "extinction", seems to have been shared by inquisitive others actually brought up with ancient oral traditions.

Perhaps there's too much taking place in the inventive comprehensive macromanic King Ghidorah, but if you like consistent twists and unexpected developments legitimately hatched it's a frenetic frenzy.

Complete with a futuristic scenario where Japanese corporations control the world, it leaves no exuberant stone unturned as it ludicrously theorizes things yet to come.

Likely generating controversy in Godzilla circles around the experimental world, due to its incredibly ambitious undaunted seemingly limitless narrative daring, there's no doubt it's a fluidic must see in a league of its own crafting kernels incarnate, tantalizing transmutating treatises, disputatiously reverberating confounding as one.