Blurbanal

*I miss birds in winter dad. It's fun listening to them in the warmer months.

**I can't disagree with you there son, there's nothing quite like early morning bird song.

*Crows can be kind of a pain I guess, when they gather and won't stop squawking, but it's cool to see them at first, they're pretty impressive birds. 

**You've got to look past the mysticism and focus on the concrete innocence, they're clever indeed for sure but clairvoyant considerations lead to malign contingencies. 

*Do you think birds used to be dinosaurs? A lot of big time scientists seem convinced.

**I tend to trust what they say especially if there's disagreement, but if dinosaurs shrunk and grew wings after millions of years, why do turtles still have shells, and why are crocodiles still so big?

*Could there have been divine intervention?

**The balance of Nature is oddly harmonious. 

*Could aliens be using our planet for research and development?

**I'm not wise enough to say "yes" or "no". It's possible they used to show up regularly, but then infighting or some kind of environmental disaster cut them off, and things started mutating without their husbandry after that.

*Viruses emerged. Toxic discourse.

**Most of the toxic manifestations seem to have been generated by humankind. 

*Is Global Heating like one of Riddick's Elementals, then, a mutated force seeking to achieve environmental harmony?

**We aren't treating the environment very well. If a conscious presence wanted to intervene but couldn't do so directly, it might take the artistic route, and unleash apocalyptic reckoning.

*Is that where zombies fit in?

**I would imagine so, son, I would imagine so.

*Especially in this political climate.

**Caw caw caw.

*It's a bird's life for me.

Fluxurious

Bogged downhome stasis marchery twang

fennigan 'fuffle swampersand dune

vetted dissected clackety cruise

mariner magpie holstein hearth

grimacing ghoul fortuitous frown

withering wince marmellow mash

emotive 'flage cornhusker 'fuge

soma 'lacrum hybriddle hocus

vocal pinpointdextr'ous mismatched membranes

marbled conduction blithering dearth

spiralling hatch swineyard sortie

dissolving adorable gothic fluidity 

tomcatty jones charming enchantment 

jejunglee jinx barrelhousebound

calico crisper fallow retained

'ciferous vocab ornament lex

eclipsing pulsar stately ambrosia

festoon tycoon garland croquet

dazzling dust devil whimpering slight

tarragon tremors fastened askew

oblong kyoto cryptic hiatus

banishing bulge frugal inception

inchoate cream shimmering gown

Cadillac quorum quadrant variable

swish-ke-slob scurvy redoubled effortitude

scallywag sympatico zesty relish 

casabathousebound embryo unction

thoroughbred chalice jocose enterprise

imbroglyonostrum elliptical clash

asphyxiated stifle babbling brouhaha

rabble roused recourse diverse counsel

chaotic quench salient enclave

starboard sufferance anointed Druid

peripatechnic sparmesan crust

immersive axiom rotisserie ramshack

nutrient nebulae languid larva 

maquillage malcontent austere spontaneity

cloaked conditional hollow imperative

pirouette pewter symbiotic swirl

obscure definition gourmantic glade

ricochet Richelieu neutrino nuance

photon overdrive daguerrotypical

artifice flume Boston cream

volcanic cosmos obsidian crest

ironcalladin technicolour tempo

salamander skimp collusive sublimity

hyena harken hammerhead hail

metropolitan magma meadowlark slam

marathon mingle fingerling fresca

opaque jasmine saturnine hinge 

lunar module bivouac burnish

starling doppelgäng squadron threshold. 

Testudinosaur

A young foolish eager adult who enjoys walking through the woods, notes the changes in the forest as the vigilant years distend.

His mother wonders why he's so obsessed with taking photos in the woods, but kindly notes the intuitive goodwill curiously in touch with his endeavours.

He's able to find work which often keeps him strictly occupied, the crafting of exceptional texts first and foremost on his mind.

Unconcerned with traditional appearances or the usual ways in which people act, he compiles a vast collection of eclectic novel bric-a-brac.

As time passes, the resident animals become more accustomed to his presence, and stop worrying when he shows up at the local marsh to take his pictures.

In tune with local wilderness rhythms, he begins to notice turtles on the tracks, engaged in humble exploratory actions as they carelessly observe and note and wander.

As trains often use the very same routes to conduct their commercial affairs, the artist becomes alert and watchful in his cataloguing of the turtles. 

Then one day, a train approaching, he sees a turtle on the tracks, and moves quickly to swiftly move him/her to a safe location in the forest.

His timing is somewhat off and he arrives too late however.

Only to miraculously emerge.

In the supernatural land of turtles. 

With a larger budget the land of the turtle may have seemed more convincing, not that it doesn't have its unique features which encourage light compelling applause.

I liked how the turtles he moved off the tracks were pissed when they saw him in their land, and vented their sublime frustration with grizzled undisciplined nonchalance. 

Using real turtles in the crafting of the intricate scenes may have been frustrating, if they weren't incredibly adorable and innately attuned to all things cinema.

Theresa Montesque naturally shines as the helpful mom, who takes a modest interest in her son's work while trying not to be overbearing.

Who knew that turtles were using the tracks to secretly travel between dimensions?

As the sun beats down with wild intensity.

Throughout the typical working day.

*The voyage back to the forest is cool as well. 

**Never play around train tracks. You never know when the train might show up.

The Black Cat

Spoiler alert.

A newlywed couple unwinds on their honeymoon, carefreely travelling throughout Eastern Europe, wilfully embracing romantic stratagems, to celebrate their new life together.

Suddenly a stranger joins them in their spacious train compartment, who happens to be heading to the same destination, with which he's intimately familiar (Bela Lugosi as Dr. Vitus Werdegast). 

Upon departure, he secures a ride, and they set off into a forbidding storm, dispiritingly crashing not so long after, lodging fortunately available nearby.

But Vitus has failed to tell them that he's recently returned from prison, and seeks vengeance at the very establishment where they happen to be spending the night.

The owner (Boris Karloff as Hjalmar Poelzig) cheated him during a war along with many of their brave compatriots, for he longed for Vitus's precious wife, and cowardly sought to save his own skin.

Vitus's wife perished shortly thereafter but their daughter enchantingly grew, and eventually wed the man who had ruined her family, lacking paramount prerequisite knowledge.

He also loyally worships Satan and conducts forbidden rituals with local elites at his home.

The young couple struggles to adapt.

Without preponderant divine mercy.

More concerned with character and mood than striking shocking spry special effects, The Black Cat haunts without graphic supplement, as old school legends face off for the first time.

Was this narrative frightening for audiences way back and does it still scare peeps to this very day, have there always been those who find it comic, or perhaps abounding with sardonic frights?

Horror certainly has become much more technical in terms of mind-bogglingly mad diabolics, if you went from finding The Black Cat startling what would you make of A Nightmare on Elm Street?

Is horror more suited to the censors of its time or can it function at random, ahistorically?, audiences from the '30s would have been less familiar with Freddy or Jason, but their world was much more accustomed to war torn strife.

Were censors more strict long ago because the world was still much more blunt and chaotic, and they refused to encourage theoretical bedlam because they distrusted aggrieved elementals?

Apart from the pandemic, the last 75 years haven't seen grandiose crazed distress, on a mass scale like World War II anyways, not that there haven't been sundry harrowing incidents.

Can't say I'll ever get used to lockdowns.

Although they're necessary when things get out of hand. 

I didn't find The Black Cat comic.

I thought it was a cool bit of offbeat storytelling.

When Pigs Fly

Although I lean heavily towards the non-existence of ghosts, I have been eagerly taught to keep an open-mind, meaning that while most of the recorded attempts I've seen on television to capture ghosts seem rather suspect, I still can't categorically dismiss them, as if there's absolutely no possibility of their existence.

As to the existence of the coronavirus, I'm 100% certain that it exists, and think positions to the contrary are oddly ignoring vast swaths of evidence. As to the origins of the virus, they're certainly debatable, but there's no doubt that the virus exists and that vaccinating yourself against it is a solid option.

Should I ignore the vast swaths of evidence which suggest ghosts don't exist as well, and engage in quizzical quantum quackery out of supernatural fascination?

I suppose if a movement caught on which definitively upheld the existence of ghosts, and this movement gained political power, and used its power to promote ghostly endeavours with unsubstantiated reckoning, in some kind of unproductive bizarro way that had seriously negative effects on the economy and the environment, then I would have to deny the existence of ghosts, and embrace distasteful categorical dismissal. 

But that example's absurd and worrying about such possibilities a waste of time (unless you're writing fantasy).

The existence of the coronavirus is not absurd.

And it's claimed millions of lives worldwide.

When Pigs Fly examines an underemployed musician who meets two playful ghosts (Alfred Molina as Marty), and agrees to help them cause cheeky mischief as they embrace various pastimes.

It possesses an endearing lighthearted spirit concerned with stern avenging intrigue, shenanigans erupting with animate requisition as projections pique and premonitions postulate.

It was great to see Sara Driver dedicate her film to ghosts in general, I can't verify if any of them have seen it, but would wager they would have been appreciative if they had.

I'll lend an ear if there's something haunting or enigmatic even that's caught your eye, I don't know how seriously I'll take what you say, but I won't dismiss it, unless you want tons of money. 

That's how so many great fantasies find themselves blockbusting at different times.

Someone had an otherworldly impression, real or imagined, and people listened as the idea took shape.

Do fantasies have utilitarian value, I'd vehemently argue they do. They promote courage, daring, wisdom and modesty, in a manner that isn't stale or antiseptic. 

Spending too much time watching or reading them may occlude practical professional decision making.

Or perhaps not, depending on the industry.

As to motivations, who's to say?

Dragonfly

Do voices from supernatural realms at times attempt to communicate with the terrestrially composed, is there something to be said for uncanny spiritual instincts without resorting to coincidence or mental illness, as Tom Shadyac's Dragonfly directly hypothesizes?

A lot of the time it seems like mumbo jumbo that can't be clarified or reasonably explained, even if it's supposed to exist beyond rationality and therefore isn't logically disposed. 

It's foolish to take the irrational seriously since believing in ghosts or the like can lead to folly, although it's fun to imagine they might exist while leaning towards the generally improbable. 

One trick is to consider the possibility of keeping an open yet skeptical mind, while always immediately denying its logical potential if someone starts asking for more than 10$.

I saw many an episode of America's Most Wanted as a lad where true believers were cheated out of tens of thousands, and it seemed like such a depressing waste considering the trusting hearts who took a faithful leap. 

I hate to see the innocent cheated especially when they're gentle and kind. Why people who prey on their humble instincts can't find something more constructive to do is beyond me.

Those humble instincts have persisted nevertheless after a century or so of scientific advancement, advancements that have found evidenced based factual reasons to validate so many practical truths.

As science proves more and more practical theories you would think religious belief would become more and more obsolete, but it still persists with resounding tenacity in many jurisdictions still spiritually composed.

It's like there's an innate drive residing in many to believe in the supernatural regardless of fact, and even if such a drive seems improbable, yet can still sometimes be fun, in the interests of democratic community, methinks it's best not to dismiss it.

Of course I tend to operate within a communal domain where there's mutual respect for opposing viewpoints, and improbability doesn't have the upper hand and isn't creating laws to dismiss science or pandemics accordingly.

I like to hear people tell stories so I'll listen as they narrate away, it's incredible the things some people say, the force of their convictions at times unsettling.

Just proving and dismissing everything with science can be incredibly boring too. Life needs a bit of excitement now and then that only werebears and vampires (etc.) can provide.

As long as you don't believe werebears and vampires are real and can find a practical metaphorical application for them.

Thus rationalizing fantasy.

To tell even more incredible stories.

With planned obsolescence and conflicting authenticities so much discourse sounds absurd (especially as you age).

But what's life without absurdity?

As long as it doesn't cost too much.

Flatliners

I suppose Flatliners passes as a chilling representation of mainstream sci-fi/horror, its 5 med students adventurously engaged in supernatural experimentation, recklessly bringing about their own deaths to pioneer forbidden im/mortal disciplines, risking their coveted careers to entertainingly tantalize, while unwittingly materializing vengeful sociohistorical menace.

It excites eager film lovers by affixing its characters with ingenious analytical and creative abilities, real world superpowers which delineate discriminate diagnoses, yet simultaneously terrifies them by monstrously calling into question the means by which they obtained them, metaphorically speaking, "say no to drugs."

It's as if after flatlining everything they've ever done, read, intuited, or considered, is computationally available, capable of being accessed and applied with immediate inspirational virtuosity, however, since each character has effectively ruined, even ended the lives of others, their genius is maddeningly guilt ridden, and their aspirations spiritually overwhelming.

Like Limitless meets Final Destination, Flatliners packs a potent cerebrally stunning punch, but it gets down to it a little too quickly for my tastes, instantaneously invigorating its narrative without having thoughtfully justified why it's bothering to do so.

Perhaps an additional 15 minutes spent clarifying why the characters are so willingly embracing death enriched with a reflective dialogue concerning the merits of their moribund undertakings would have been too cumbersome, too boring, too intellectual, but it's not like they're thinking about taking a road trip here, or heading to the casino or skipping class.

Or making out in the library.

They be killing themselves to suicidally synergize prohibited prognostics and vivacious versatilities, and methinks that deserves a bit more discussion as the story unfolds, even if it unreels contemptuously thereafter.

Is that middle-aged bias?

Wait, Flatliner's religious underpinnings suggest explanations are unnecessary, so the rash undiscussed experimental adolescent death drive is therefore subconsciously sustained.

However, they're all med students using science to make breakthroughs within earthly realms, and should therefore be questioning everything they do.

Perhaps the soul searching yet practically attuned Ray (Diego Luna), who, unlike his colleagues, worked his way up through bold honest labour, presents a way out of this deadlock, for he's the only character whose past doesn't haunt him, and he's also the only one who doesn't flatline.

But doesn't the person of the world who never seeks to comprehend occult mysteries function like Indiana Jones and Marion at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark, never seeking to understand the divine even if it is bluntly presented, out of unacknowledged religious humility, or existential acculturation?

And therefore can't assist?

Beats me.

*I watched Kingdom of the Crystal Skull again last night for the first time since it came out. I liked it a lot more the second time although things get pretty ridiculous near the end. And suggesting aliens taught ancient cultures everything they knew is ethnocentric. Our superbrains created the internet. Theirs created the Pyramids, the Great Wall etc.

**I wrote this last February and forgot that I had mentioned Indiana Jones. I didn't read it again until tonight, the night I had planned to post it on last February (well, I had planned to post it on a Monday in November). And I just recently finished watching all the Indiana Jones movies again.  As in yesterday. Weird.

The Mummy

Another supernatural sensation has covetously awoken, the flood, the hurricane, desperately seeking to tyrannically rule a flourishing hyperconnected globe, revelling in metropolitan indignity, suddenly clutched and bare, as unassuming adventurous treasure hunter Nick Morton (Tom Cruise) accidentally reanimates an immortal ancient Egyptian Mummy, whose evil was so vain she was painstakingly entombed a thousand miles away, in what postmodernly became the battlefields of Iraq.

She (Sofia Boutella) calls to him as he rests, claiming he is her "chosen", daring to devotedly adorn his theoretically apocalyptic side, to birth the Egyptian god of death within him (Set), unaware of millennial advances in laissez-faire ambition.

Is he so extraordinarily laid-back and exceptionally unconcerned that he can sublimate omniscience with characteristic North American middle-class composure?

That's so Tom Cruise.

Or will the dark universe univocally assume its rapacious dignity, capriciously toying with a world then driven by its commands?

With reckless authoritarian banality.

That's more of a question for the sequel, I'm jumping ahead a bit, overlooking The Mummy's historical embrace of British and Egyptian antiquity as synthesized and contemporized by the troubled Dr. Jekyll (Russell Crowe), whose jaded yet hopeful thoughts encourage critical extrapolations. 

The film's sort of cool, not a solid competitor for the Iron Man, Captain America, or Avenger series, but still comfortable enough doing its own thing to hold your attention for 107 without blowing your mind.

The classic good-natured blonde versus hellspawn brunette.

A quick look around Dr. Jekyll's laboratory suggests spinoff after spinoff after spinoff.

Adventure to adventure even if you may not like what you find?

The internal struggle which defines or destroys so many conscientious men and women.

Even with the near absurd number of superhero/arch-villain films proliferating at the moment, it would still be nice to see highly dramatic renditions of Dracula and/or Frankenstein released for the Academy's consideration.

Come to think of it, it's the perfect time.

Frankenstein was one of the saddest most touching maddeningly atemporal i.e eternally applicable sociocultural novels I've ever read.

He was a remarkably caring sensitive curious loving soul before his appearance was reviled by others.

Is there a Frankenstein film that has ever brilliantly captured that aspect without simultaneously lusting after monstrous profits?

Fassbender as the doctor?

Eddie Redmayne as Frankenstein?

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales has some compelling ideas woven into its text.

There's a strong woman of science boldly using her brain to discover truths unbeknownst as of yet to humankind.

Astronomical insights are cartographically applied to exonerate the supernatural as a matter of practical paternal romance.

A comical misunderstanding of a highly technical term leads to jocular confusion blended with righteous incapacitation.

The mythological and the religious are conjugally contrasted, perhaps to subconsciously juxtapose alternative attitudes acculturatively adopted as one travels through youth to age.

The monkey's back.

So's Mr. Gibbs (Kevin McNally).

But Gibbs doesn't have the striking supportive role he endearingly cultivated in Dead Men's predecessors, as he's shortsightedly reduced to more of a decorative ornament.

It's much more comedic than the other films, the swashbuckling seriousness that held them together sacrificed for generally flat tomfoolery.

Henry Turner (Brenton Thwaites) and Carina Smyth (Kaya Scodelario) replace William Turner and Elizabeth Swann but they're no Keira Knightley and Orlando Bloom.

The action's steady and the confusing political threads that abstrusely adorned some of the sequels are absent, but don't let the barrage of buffoonery distract you from the fact that robust characters have transmutated into stock representations.

For instance, Jack's drinking has commandeered his wit and the mesmerizing incomparable lovingly brilliant captain is more like a bewildered wildebeest.

Johnny Depp should have won an oscar for his performance in The Curse of the Black Pearl. The apotheosis of his genius, which has recently fallen upon troubled times.

It may be my favourite performance ever, to appropriately apply an adolescent designation.

Did he ever make a film with Robert Downey Jr.? In a small town? Co-starring Emma Stone, Daniel Radcliffe, Emma Watson, and Ryan Reynolds?

Plus Mayor Orlando Bloom and Schoolmistress Keira Knightley?

It's actually a great idea, having a washed-up Jack Sparrow circumventing at the helm.

He has aged considerably while drinking recklessly, so toning him down a notch adds an instructive realistic touch.

However, to tone down Jack Sparrow, or to transform his cheeky inspiration into reflexive knee-jerk contractions is to forget why Pirates of the Caribbean films are so appealing, and made me think, this is definitely take 5.

With the classic "everything imaginable is perfect" ending, apart from a significant loss (although I imagine they may resurface for part 6).

Said and done, I almost shed tears to see them back together.

But the significance was still diluted by the humour.

A critique of postmodern sincerity?

Ghostbusters

I don't see anything wrong with casting women as the new ghostbusters.

That's the fun thing about remakes, you switch up the story and the genders and the races or ethnicities to ensure that the reimagination comments on contemporary issues, rather than just presenting a facsimile of the original, whose origins themselves are likely hotly debated, thereby keeping the narrative fresh, while jump starting sociocultural synergies.

There's something to be said for respecting traditions as well, but as the centuries pass these liberal and conservative vice versa visualizations forge a compelling multiplicity that encourages vibrant critical controversies.

Liked the film.

The script lacks at least one feature that ironically made the original so realistic, the fact that the ghostbusters took huge risks to start their business, and then proceeded to take steps to in/flexibly run it, affectively pulling you into their audacious exterminating antics with hectic supernatural commercial conviviality, the new one focusing less on entrepreneurial aspects and more on interpersonal relationships, a different approach, but it still never seemed like their business could fail, or make any money either, although it did seem like friendships could be re/built through the productive art of constructive team building.

The interpersonal relationships of the four hilarious heroines do draw you in with kinetic displacements and undulating sorority, they're written quite well and engagingly invigorate the active material with knowledgable grit and practical pugnacity, the best of the best living up to the challenge, impressive, conducive, calico, they had an incredibly tough act to follow and at times even take the lead, regenerative calisthenic conversations, tally-ho, which remain loyal to the franchise's republican origins.

Grrr.

There's contempt for different levels of academic rigidity within, obviously the supernatural is real, the principal villain values the dedicated impeccable labours of hard working honest Americans, when African American ghostbuster Patty Tolan (Leslie Jones) jumps off a stage no one catches her, the ghostbusters hire their secretary solely because he's good looking, the ivory trade is unforgivably referred to nonchalantly, nuclear energy is highly valued as an available technology ripe for non-regulated experimentation, ethnic slurs are callously dished out, and none of the brilliant perspicacious female ghostbusters has been able to find a partner.

Classic form, alternative Ghostbusters.

What else, yes, they slowly encounter different ghosties as the narrative unreels and during the climax end up battling those very same ghosties.

Different ghosts people, different ghosts, a cataclysmic apocalyptic (Hollywood's big on the Apocalypse this Summer) fissure has opened up in New York City unleashing thousands of ghosts and the ghostbusters end up fighting the same ones they fought earlier in the film.

Laziness, especially considering the remarkable creative opportunity the writers and special effects peeps had there.

Nevertheless, the film's worth checking out.

If you like strong comedy executively executed by leading American comics, I don't see why you wouldn't like this film.

It's not the gender that matters, but how well the individuals play their respective roles, and how well those roles are resoundingly written.

Kirsten Wiig (Erin Gilbert), Abby Yates (Melissa McCarthy), Leslie Jones, and Kate McKinnon (Jillian Holtzmann) perform remarkably well.

And deserve total respect.

God Dam

I often don't think about God, or God's existence, anymore, the study of history and amount of blood that continues to be shed around the world in his or her theoretical name having left me thinking that there is no God, or at least one that cares about intervening in the affairs of planet Earth to end exploitation and oppression etc., however, the existence of the beaver does lead me to believe that perhaps God or some form of multidimensional spiritual unity (God for short) does exist, for the following reasons.

Most of the animals I'm familiar with spend most of their time searching for food and/or taking care of young, striving to exist, peacefully or aggressively comporting themselves.

But for some bizarre reason, the beaver spends its time collecting wood in order to make dams so that it can significantly alter its terrain, often to the benefit of neighbouring species.

The raccoon doesn't do this.

Neither does the fox.

I saw a nature program about the foolish introduction of beavers to islands off the coast of Argentina which suggested that beavers build dams because the sound of running water irritates them intensely, and they proved their point by playing the sound of running water on a ghetto blaster, which a beaver then covered in mud shortly thereafter.

Why does the sound of running water irritate them so?

And how did they figure out how to stop it?

It's possible that they just watched birds building nests and somehow applied such home building skills to the creation of dams, but why don't other animals do similar things?, why is it only the beaver?

Perhaps the other animals are simply much lazier than the industrious beaver whom they thank for helping them find food yet secretly begrudge for working so hard?

And if God gave the beaver the power to build dams, why didn't he or she give similar powers to the other animals?

Impossible to say, yet still, for some primordial reason, beavers build dams while most of the other animals have a less productive relationship with existence.

Why do they build these dams?

Why?

*If the existence of the beaver does prove the existence of God, I still don't think he or she is set to intervene in human affairs at any given time. It makes more sense to me that s/he gave us the power to understand and take care of our environment in order to better our lives. If we destroy that environment through pollution and oppression consequently, I wouldn't expect him or her to return to heal it, rather, I would expect her or him to return to reprimand us for having destroyed it. That makes more sense to me.

Eternally so.

Magic in the Moonlight

Cold disbelieving hallowed critical reservations cynically socialize themselves in Woody Allen's Magic in the Moonlight, intent on exposing the genuine article, whose youthful pluck, ravishingly portends.

It's scientific reason versus supernatural serendipity, the influence of the latter, interventioning mischievous universals.

With lunar exactitude.

Stanley Crawford (Colin Firth) is difficult to take as he asserts his cantankerous incredulity, as smug as he is exceptional, it's still fun to watch his stubborn transitions, his development of feelings, which can't be rationally explained.

Thanks to Sophie Baker (Emma Stone).

I've encountered too many startling coincidences to categorically deny the existence of the supernatural.

Just the other day, I changed an ______ online for the first time in years, and then, less than 2 hours later, I see my old _______, who was associated with the ___ ______, for the first time since then, casually walking by.

I'm _______ in the middle of nowhere and suddenly I see someone from the town where I grew up, we head out later, and s/he's reading _______ while I've just rented the movie.

It could have been an elaborate joke.

Strange though.

But the number of times nothing exceptionally coincidental takes place far outweighs the number of times something does, meaning that attempts to clarify the seemingly supernatural and base economic and/or political forecasts upon them can be thought of as being somewhat nutso, scientific reason reigning in these domains being of paramount importance, as long as it doesn't attempt to eliminate its spiritual competition.

Not Woody Allen's best, but Magic in the Moonlight does warmly call into question the practice of reasoning, deducing to high jink, which causes love to seem more beautiful.

Clever, quaint, obtuse, and restrained, it caresses and cuddles the curmudgeony, to clarify why some friendships last a lifetime.

Rebelle (War Witch)

Calmly passing through a series of tumultuous events, Kim Nguyen's Rebelle (War Witch) follows  Komona's (Rachel Mwanza) path as she's forced to serve as a child soldier.

Viciously separated from her family, she despondently acquiesces to her chaotic surroundings, inductively developing psychological survival strategies which enable her to tactically trudge through her wartorn environment.

The film placidly displays the bitter helpless wanton affects her predicament necessitates before accentuating their terror by transferring them to a supportive realm wherein their sublimation proves perplexing.

It's not emotive or sentimental, just a raw exemplification of debilitating dissonance which presents a reality the victims of organized violent insurgencies must endure.

Under the guise of their best interests.

How one suddenly returns to a constructive life after suffering under such hardships without occasionally expressing themselves with fits of irrepressible anger is beyond me.

Complete with contextual symbolic sabotage.