Herz aus Glas (Heart of Glass)

I suppose that for tens of thousands of years the possession of esoteric knowledge proved rather fruitful, and could generate unique industry which in turn supplied steady work for brave inhabitants. 

It still does in many instances your ideas can generate bountiful incomes, although if they create planet saving envirotechnologies it's also cool to eventually share them with your community for free.

In Herz aus Glas (Heart of Glass), a medieval town is resonantly known for its ruby glass, which it manufactures with artistic grace and reliable marketable old school intensity.

But the only one who definitively knows how to authentically and genuinely produce it, passes without having shared the code, or indeed transmitted it to another.

Panic doesn't immediately set in although tensions slowly start to run high, the factory owner finding mad solutions which the agile workforce swiftly deems barking. 

The factory burns there's no other industry the local clairvoyant's sent to jail for predicting it.

A grim look at the distraught middle ages.

Indirectly championing scientific culture.

Environmental progress and industry finding ingenious ways to boldly progress hand in hand, I've recently joined some online groups which consistently share new green technologies.

Steady employment - something to do - still remains of paramount cultural importance, jobs gained mathematically balanced with those lost to nimbly cultivate immersive interactivity. 

It always amazes me how hard people work and routinely commit to standards of excellence, and I've lived and worked in almost every province and territory, the Canadian and Québecois work ethic internationally outstanding.

New ideas - innovative strategies - reflexively emerging each and every day, to outwit debilitating fatigue and intuitively enable freedom and longevity.

We're lucky to have such a colossal country so much of which remains largely unexplored, such a shame we can't grow food in winter, but the cold temperatures do keep the ideas a' flowing.

I imagine if given the time the resolute workers in Herz aus Glas, would have figured out how to make the Ruby and diligently proceeded to keep the doors open.

By constantly experimenting till they precisely found the missing ingredient like none other.

Likely making other marketable discoveries along the way.

Strongly investing in research & development.

Inside Man

A detective gets his shot since he's the only one around when the call comes in (Denzel Washington), his captain less willing to throw work his way after a recent erroneous routine rupture.

But a bank's being robbed and they want to negotiate the robbers taking their forbidden time, many hostages struggling nerve-wracked within, a smooth flowing exchange stretched out stressed suspicion.

Meanwhile, the bank's agéd owner (Christopher Plummer) hires an alternative negotiating team (Jodie Foster), to recover an ancient safety deposit box he's worried the thieves have set in their sights.

She exists in the theoretical ether wherein which higher-ups employ extreme discretion, to tidy up raunchy embarrassing mishaps, or in this lofty case, World War II profiteering.

The detective doesn't like it when she shows up with answers to questions he wasn't considering, but the communicative green light is still freely given and soon it seems the bank owner's fears weren't that off base.

Afterwards, chaos ensues, with emboldened predicaments furtively enabling, the concealment of the hypothetical thieves whose plutocratic endeavours indeed prove fruitful. 

The detective still needs to piece things together with precocious puzzling and reasonable riffs.

Interviews discourse entanglements hyperbole.

Thoroughly reckoned with guttural instinct.

A cool suave exoteric rigamarole effortlessly enriches voltaic vehemence, as the opposite ends of Inside Man's investigative continuums cohort and calumnize courtly contusions.

Critically clasped clandestine camaraderie sincerely conversing cross calculi composites, war profiteering is reckless abuse of a world controlled by volatile wickedness. 

I haven't seen any recent related articles covering political condemnations of war profiteering in Ukraine, but you would think some bureaucrat would have thought up something to passionately critique it in the last couple of weeks. 

Many business have pulled out of Russia and I imagine sanctions are making routine life difficult in the massive country, but weeks into the brutal conflict and it's still raging with destructive frenzy.

If businesses and individuals are profiting from Russia's continued vicious bombardment, it would be nice to know they'll be held accountable with sincere constricting jurisprudent venom.

How to monitor myriad factors multidimensionally mired in mad malfeasance, is hopefully being taken care of at the maniacal moment with exceptional haste and sentient synergies. 

Julieta

Clandestine cordial crests revisiting past traumatic emotionally eviscerating relations, quotidian delineations, condemnations, obfuscations, a literary protocol perspicaciously pinpointing buoys and beacons and estuaries and islets, in revelation, orchestration, a confession, contemporary embraces confused by the disappearance, the sudden creative seclusion, infused with relapsed resuscitated cursive, gently and gingerly discovering clarifications whose lucidity exponentially envisions myriad alternative past contingencies, a roll call, a characterized crucible oceanically encapsulated, answers which question themselves, which everlastingly ensure, that their author never simply asks why?

The details of a former life haunt a convalescing classics expert (Emma Suárez as Julieta) after an unexpected encounter bears mythological witness.

Pedro Almodóvar makes a film based on the writings of Alice Munro.

Could there be a more tantalizing artistic synthesis?

I haven't read Ms. Munro for years (a mistake) but I loved reading her short stories in my twenties.

From what I remember, they often modestly yet incisively examined themes that might have seemed too light if they hadn't been treated with such soberly mischievous assured congeniality, like reading an unconcerned humble playful virtuoso, visiting a store in a small town that has that Amélie item for which you've been unconsciously searching for an unspecified period, or spending time with thoughtful friends who haven't turned bitterly sarcastic.

Her stories also stood out because they consistently contained memorable realistic conclusions, valuable advice that actually made you stop and think, that taught you how the world works without destroying or vitriolically critiquing something.

Like a mom.

I was worried Julieta wouldn't narrativize along these lines but was pleasantly surprised with the results.

A kind, sympathetic, bold yet hesitant film, it articulately pulls you into its struggles without preaching or pontificating about sleuths right and wrong.

Delicate strength.

With a stunning closing image that made me want to visit the Spanish countryside (cinematography by Jean-Claude Larrieu [Carrieu]).

I wonder what Jeff Nichols, Steve McQueen or Derek Cianfrance would create from Alice Munro's texts?

That would be cool if they became a bucolic rite of filmic passage.