Isolated ingenuity, embowered seclusion, 2 sisters living together in the West Coast woods far from town must learn to survive after the North American power grid suddenly shuts down, permanently, in Patricia Rozema's Into the Forest.
Feminine fortitude.
There's no fear, no frequent unprovoked breakdowns, in fact the film seems too sober and logical after their father (Callum Keith Rennie as Robert) dies and the grieving ends after a brief period of intense sorrow.
It's a matter of timing, the film divided into temporal segments which narrativize specific incidents yet leave out inquisitive aspects which leave you wondering why they chose to stay in the woods and why they weren't more curious about was happening in the world?
Such questions are entertained but they aren't examined at length, as they would have been if the story didn't jump ahead so often, which I found odd considering their circumstances and the massive destabilizing continental paradigm shifts enveloping them.
They can't find any information and there's no one else to talk to besides a partner (Max Minghella as Eli) who arrives for a short stay to state that no one really knows anything in town either, and game changing decisions are behind made based on conjecture, which moderately heightens end of the world tensions by acknowledging that communication networks and associated cross-references no longer exist, but the film remains deep in the woods so none of these convolutions can be explored.
Nevertheless, Into the Forest challenges gender stereotypes as Nell (Ellen Page) and Eva (Evan Rachel Wood) pioneer it hardcore.
Their survival skills were actually significantly enhanced precisely at the moment where I started to think the film was going to ignore such progressive potential.
If you've ever worked in the bush you know women can do anything men can, often with less complaining, and more team building enthusiasm.
Nell learns to hunt, forage, use ropes to hide food in trees so bears have a much harder time getting at it, and Eva learns to chop wood.
Eva's raped while doing so, a terrifying moment which speaks to the worst in men, i.e., as women begin to prove that they are capable of doing the work stereotypically ascribed to men, the worst men violently assault them to belittle and degrade their genuine badass accomplishments.
As Nell and Eva slowly realize they don't want to live their lives botanically bushwhacking, their dwelling gradually collapses, the last sign of the postmodern world, reclaimed once again by environmental inevitabilities.
Thought the film shouldn't have skipped Winter, left out some relevant discussions, and missed out on incredible cinematographic opportunities (see Sleeping Giant), but Into the Woods still aptly disintegrates gender stereotypes with regenerative pluck and expedient resiliency, transitioning from one epoch to the next, wherein every moment defines adventure.
Risk.
Synergistic sisterhood.
The nebulous sublime.
Tuesday, June 28, 2016
Saturday, June 25, 2016
Minx Nimble
Red wine mosey percolates
like genuine entreaties stately
pertinence from dusk till dawn
la bounty nursing ever on
the dive within the mid-June lake
woodpeckers pecking satiate
the text projects submersive song
enriching willowing diphthongs
a sudden furtive brazen smile
mango nectar domicile,
verdant throes viscosity
the beaver slaps her tale carefree
minty elastic coruscating
queries quartered excavating,
laid-back on pine needle beds,
sun kissed plots the vinous threads
costed.
like genuine entreaties stately
pertinence from dusk till dawn
la bounty nursing ever on
the dive within the mid-June lake
woodpeckers pecking satiate
the text projects submersive song
enriching willowing diphthongs
a sudden furtive brazen smile
mango nectar domicile,
verdant throes viscosity
the beaver slaps her tale carefree
minty elastic coruscating
queries quartered excavating,
laid-back on pine needle beds,
sun kissed plots the vinous threads
costed.
Friday, June 24, 2016
Maggie's Plan
The spirit of independence, intelligence and confidence, basking in unconscious success, high-level functioning finessed, fabled and fastened, doubts rationally ridiculed, friends casually consulted, expansion, diversity, risk management, decision made, imaginations materialized, nebulous nascent nesting, enlightening epiphany, a child is born.
Yet one marriage dissolves to consolidate her portfolio, her hawkish rival expressing her grievances verbosely, the mutually sought after bad boy wearing on Maggie's (Greta Gerwig) nerves as the years pass, until it becomes plainly apparent, that she'd be better off on her own.
For a time.
In a bit of a pickle.
Maggie's Plan is as clever as it is charming.
Well versed in psychological analysis, manipulative benevolence fetchingly at play, it never loses its sense of cerebral congeniality, fun, it's a lot of fun, fair play you know, in what otherwise could have been tragic and miserable, director Rebecca Miller boldly blends logic and laughter, harmonizing open minds with good intentions, even as chaos clouds over it's smooth, chill, cool, laid-back in full putter, possibly the best romantic comedy I've seen.
There's a great short clip that shows Maggie and Georgette (Julianne Moore) out for a drive that could have easily been cut, but its inclusion hilariously stylizes quaint urban absurdity, thereby lightening the mood with self-deprecating shock, and calling into question its own romantic existence (editing by Sabine Hoffman).
Candlelight.
Gerwig and Moore work exceptionally well together, like Denzel and Mark Wahlberg, casting by Cindy Tolan.
Ethan Hawk (John) also excels, like a mix of Harrison Ford, John Cusack and Harry Dean Stanton, which he makes totally his own.
Watch the English language only Québécois signage. That's technically illegal!
A fun trip to Québec regardless, with good music, lively conversation, tantalizing food and drink, and a bit of snowshoeing adventurously thrown in.
Solid R&D.
No Žižek?
Miller wrote the screenplay as well and handles the brainy dialogue with restrained decorum and explosive observation.
It's like J. M. Coetzee's Foe.
It starts off rushed, in a panic, and then slowly settles down to seductively reflect and ponder, like Maggie's state of mind I suppose.
I'm crying.
Yet one marriage dissolves to consolidate her portfolio, her hawkish rival expressing her grievances verbosely, the mutually sought after bad boy wearing on Maggie's (Greta Gerwig) nerves as the years pass, until it becomes plainly apparent, that she'd be better off on her own.
For a time.
In a bit of a pickle.
Maggie's Plan is as clever as it is charming.
Well versed in psychological analysis, manipulative benevolence fetchingly at play, it never loses its sense of cerebral congeniality, fun, it's a lot of fun, fair play you know, in what otherwise could have been tragic and miserable, director Rebecca Miller boldly blends logic and laughter, harmonizing open minds with good intentions, even as chaos clouds over it's smooth, chill, cool, laid-back in full putter, possibly the best romantic comedy I've seen.
There's a great short clip that shows Maggie and Georgette (Julianne Moore) out for a drive that could have easily been cut, but its inclusion hilariously stylizes quaint urban absurdity, thereby lightening the mood with self-deprecating shock, and calling into question its own romantic existence (editing by Sabine Hoffman).
Candlelight.
Gerwig and Moore work exceptionally well together, like Denzel and Mark Wahlberg, casting by Cindy Tolan.
Ethan Hawk (John) also excels, like a mix of Harrison Ford, John Cusack and Harry Dean Stanton, which he makes totally his own.
Watch the English language only Québécois signage. That's technically illegal!
A fun trip to Québec regardless, with good music, lively conversation, tantalizing food and drink, and a bit of snowshoeing adventurously thrown in.
Solid R&D.
No Žižek?
Miller wrote the screenplay as well and handles the brainy dialogue with restrained decorum and explosive observation.
It's like J. M. Coetzee's Foe.
It starts off rushed, in a panic, and then slowly settles down to seductively reflect and ponder, like Maggie's state of mind I suppose.
I'm crying.
Tuesday, June 21, 2016
Alice Through the Looking Glass
Courageous independent daring precociously proving itself under pirated extremes, sees its accomplishments rewarded with gender biased disdain as a scorned suitor attempts to neutralize it permanently, thereby aggrandizing his mediocrity, in terms of the status quo.
But in this petty and perilous predicament an alternative reality presents itself, more literary than commercial, but one within which Alice's (Mia Wasikowska) strength is regarded with respect and awe, the reflection becoming the recourse, as she instinctively exonerates Wonderland's sociocultural peculiarities.
Once more.
Agile assertions.
Temporal clemency.
The foundations are in place to enchant an everlasting imbroglio, feminine resiliency challenging unimaginative entitlement, multicultural magnanimity dousing insensitive cinders, but Alice Through the Looking Glass doesn't narratively impress, as it struggles to diversify both structurally and linguistically.
The script, while written for children, doesn't invest in creative unrestrictive dialogue, continuously employing stale predictable expressions, like Andrew Adamson's Prince Caspian, consequently subverting its versatile progressive message.
In an Alice in Wonderland film, it's fun to watch as all the strange characters have their defining moments as well, but in Through the Looking Glass many of them (Tweedledee [Matt Lucas], the Cheshire Cat [Stephen Fry], etc.) turn into background fluff, and offer sycophantic praise as opposed to startling interrogations.
Individuality sacrificed to establish unconscious group consensus.
Time (Sacha Baron Cohen) is also limited by stifling encumbrances, and the Mad Hatter (Hatter Tarrant Hightopp [Johnny Depp]) functions like a lamentable puppy instead of ingenious rarefied iridescence.
If he was destined to be a Hatter like his father before him, why wasn't Alice destined to end up like her mother before her?
Much too covertly traditional for a film advocating for gender equality, Through the Looking Glass has some fun moments, but doesn't inspire long lasting critical propensity.
Perhaps it's suggesting that if the powerful are indeed bland, powerful women must also be bland when occupying leading roles to avoid mass displacements, while structuring the order of things.
The familiarity in TTLG dulls its fantastic edge.
By dulling the fantasy, it counterproductively thinks outside the box, Alice excelling at out of the box thinking, but it's more compelling when she faces multiple encompassed challenges rather than one realistic and one fantastic, challenges which she duels with head on without encountering any serious setbacks.
The film does point out the ridiculous burdens independent women sometimes confront when expressing themselves, however, diagnoses of hysteria for instance, grossly unjust reductions.
But in this petty and perilous predicament an alternative reality presents itself, more literary than commercial, but one within which Alice's (Mia Wasikowska) strength is regarded with respect and awe, the reflection becoming the recourse, as she instinctively exonerates Wonderland's sociocultural peculiarities.
Once more.
Agile assertions.
Temporal clemency.
The foundations are in place to enchant an everlasting imbroglio, feminine resiliency challenging unimaginative entitlement, multicultural magnanimity dousing insensitive cinders, but Alice Through the Looking Glass doesn't narratively impress, as it struggles to diversify both structurally and linguistically.
The script, while written for children, doesn't invest in creative unrestrictive dialogue, continuously employing stale predictable expressions, like Andrew Adamson's Prince Caspian, consequently subverting its versatile progressive message.
In an Alice in Wonderland film, it's fun to watch as all the strange characters have their defining moments as well, but in Through the Looking Glass many of them (Tweedledee [Matt Lucas], the Cheshire Cat [Stephen Fry], etc.) turn into background fluff, and offer sycophantic praise as opposed to startling interrogations.
Individuality sacrificed to establish unconscious group consensus.
Time (Sacha Baron Cohen) is also limited by stifling encumbrances, and the Mad Hatter (Hatter Tarrant Hightopp [Johnny Depp]) functions like a lamentable puppy instead of ingenious rarefied iridescence.
If he was destined to be a Hatter like his father before him, why wasn't Alice destined to end up like her mother before her?
Much too covertly traditional for a film advocating for gender equality, Through the Looking Glass has some fun moments, but doesn't inspire long lasting critical propensity.
Perhaps it's suggesting that if the powerful are indeed bland, powerful women must also be bland when occupying leading roles to avoid mass displacements, while structuring the order of things.
The familiarity in TTLG dulls its fantastic edge.
By dulling the fantasy, it counterproductively thinks outside the box, Alice excelling at out of the box thinking, but it's more compelling when she faces multiple encompassed challenges rather than one realistic and one fantastic, challenges which she duels with head on without encountering any serious setbacks.
The film does point out the ridiculous burdens independent women sometimes confront when expressing themselves, however, diagnoses of hysteria for instance, grossly unjust reductions.
Saturday, June 18, 2016
Hammock
Elliptical assigned retentions
comically aligned extensions
clementine enzymes decree
reflexive splurged credulity
ravines ensconced in burgeoned plenty
mulberries exacting gently
raccoons sly conjure to wonder
succour jest succeed and blunder
thrusts the rays they radiate
like lush serene ices and cakes
awake within the crust's environs
surplus sugar sultry sirens
Kathmandu.
comically aligned extensions
clementine enzymes decree
reflexive splurged credulity
ravines ensconced in burgeoned plenty
mulberries exacting gently
raccoons sly conjure to wonder
succour jest succeed and blunder
thrusts the rays they radiate
like lush serene ices and cakes
awake within the crust's environs
surplus sugar sultry sirens
Kathmandu.
Friday, June 17, 2016
High-Rise
Quiescently ensconced in an eccentric microcosm, floor upon floor of economically ranked struggles, celebrations, sacrifices, autarky inclined to divine judgment, electrical exclusivity dividing the aggrieved populace, factions and punishments and discourse, threats, rebellion, single Laing (Tom Hiddleston) remains professionally detached as the disdain of the upper levels begets a crusading demagogue, a brilliant attempt to self-sufficiently endure, chaotically chained to the repercussions of decay.
Experimental empowerment.
Entitled vengeance.
Daring to dream.
Ben Wheatley's High-Rise possesses a peculiar ambivalence which consistently deconstructs attempts to clarify its underlying motivations, inhabiting the illusive intersection where horror, comedy, and tragedy collude, where everything remains uncertain, and spectres illuminate aberrations.
Quick draw.
Technically, the film's outstanding. The production design (Mark Tildesley), cinematography (Laurie Rose), and editing (Amy Jump and Wheatley) shine forth with undeniable cheek and variability.
A team assembled.
At points the writing (Jump) struggles however, excelling at crafting believable impoverished and bourgeois dialogues, but failing to convince when enabling plutocratic mysticism.
Obviously a closer study of In Search of Lost Time is in order.
It's like a really tight elementary first or second script, Jump demonstrating that she has the ability to win awards, High-Rise impressing like Blood Simple or J'ai tué ma mère, Between the Buttons or David Bowie's self-titled album.
Childlike brilliance.
High-Rise sacrifices sophistication for shock and ordure, the script still excelling at not bothering to explain things which left me full of sardonic amelioration.
Cool cast of varied characters.
At its best when it's genuinely unconcerned, at its worst when it just doesn't care.
Winky face.
For such a massive apartment building, High-Rise doesn't showcase much of its commercial enterprise, only focusing on a totalitarian grocery store and some perfunctory athletic accompaniments.
Inflammatory reflections of hierarchical obsessions.
Sociopolitically speaking.
*Loved the quick-French-learning grocery clerk.
Experimental empowerment.
Entitled vengeance.
Daring to dream.
Ben Wheatley's High-Rise possesses a peculiar ambivalence which consistently deconstructs attempts to clarify its underlying motivations, inhabiting the illusive intersection where horror, comedy, and tragedy collude, where everything remains uncertain, and spectres illuminate aberrations.
Quick draw.
Technically, the film's outstanding. The production design (Mark Tildesley), cinematography (Laurie Rose), and editing (Amy Jump and Wheatley) shine forth with undeniable cheek and variability.
A team assembled.
At points the writing (Jump) struggles however, excelling at crafting believable impoverished and bourgeois dialogues, but failing to convince when enabling plutocratic mysticism.
Obviously a closer study of In Search of Lost Time is in order.
It's like a really tight elementary first or second script, Jump demonstrating that she has the ability to win awards, High-Rise impressing like Blood Simple or J'ai tué ma mère, Between the Buttons or David Bowie's self-titled album.
Childlike brilliance.
High-Rise sacrifices sophistication for shock and ordure, the script still excelling at not bothering to explain things which left me full of sardonic amelioration.
Cool cast of varied characters.
At its best when it's genuinely unconcerned, at its worst when it just doesn't care.
Winky face.
For such a massive apartment building, High-Rise doesn't showcase much of its commercial enterprise, only focusing on a totalitarian grocery store and some perfunctory athletic accompaniments.
Inflammatory reflections of hierarchical obsessions.
Sociopolitically speaking.
*Loved the quick-French-learning grocery clerk.
Tuesday, June 14, 2016
X-Men: Apocalypse
Entombed omniscience, eternally incarcerated in nocturnal necromance, once unparalleled god of an ancient world, tyrannical and ostentatious in luminous immortality, guarded by 4 devoted soldiers living and dying at his command, dedicated to ruling with neither compromise nor exception, suddenly unearthed by a clandestine Egyptian cult, to demonically deconstruct the flourishing postmodern world.
Auspicious ascension.
Consummate destruction.
The world is blanketed in relative calm as those with pseudosupernatural powers and their hardworking compatriots have learned to live peaceful lives, Magneto (Michael Fassbender) even having found a day job and wife, Professor X (James McAvoy) competently facilitating education.
But the extraordinary are still plagued by bigoted misunderstandings, forced to fight to the death or perform parlour tricks, and as Apocalypse (Oscar Isaac) begins to rise he quickly finds enthusiastic neophytes.
To unleash a new world order.
The X-Men standing in his way.
X-Men: Apocalypse recasts the franchise, reintroducing favourite characters to the alternative timeline while ensuring traditional rivalries and romances ignite anew.
Too much time may have been spent exploring these traditions, Professor X and Magneto's everlasting polarity growing tiresome at points, future films perhaps expanding upon their routine dialogues, as they possibly explore alternative argumentative philosophies.
Relying heavily on what's transpired in the past, in the past, while laying the foundations to illuminate future irresistibilities, X-Men: Apocalypse isn't the best X-Men film but still delivers an exciting tale which encourages the development of its audience's better selves.
Things that initially seem strange or otherworldly can become as familiar as whatever it is you grew up thinking was natural and good, trying new things and having discussions with people from other cultures paving alternative avenues of inquiry with multidimensional crystalline curiosity.
Hopefully after last weekend's horrific tragedy in Orlando, people feel more willing to embrace less extreme world views.
You could live as long as Apocalypse and still encounter fresh perspectives to challenge your variable order of things with plump compelling intergalactic différence.
Without losing sight of where you come from.
Cross-referencing conversational data with research undertaken at your local universal library.
Auspicious ascension.
Consummate destruction.
The world is blanketed in relative calm as those with pseudosupernatural powers and their hardworking compatriots have learned to live peaceful lives, Magneto (Michael Fassbender) even having found a day job and wife, Professor X (James McAvoy) competently facilitating education.
But the extraordinary are still plagued by bigoted misunderstandings, forced to fight to the death or perform parlour tricks, and as Apocalypse (Oscar Isaac) begins to rise he quickly finds enthusiastic neophytes.
To unleash a new world order.
The X-Men standing in his way.
X-Men: Apocalypse recasts the franchise, reintroducing favourite characters to the alternative timeline while ensuring traditional rivalries and romances ignite anew.
Too much time may have been spent exploring these traditions, Professor X and Magneto's everlasting polarity growing tiresome at points, future films perhaps expanding upon their routine dialogues, as they possibly explore alternative argumentative philosophies.
Relying heavily on what's transpired in the past, in the past, while laying the foundations to illuminate future irresistibilities, X-Men: Apocalypse isn't the best X-Men film but still delivers an exciting tale which encourages the development of its audience's better selves.
Things that initially seem strange or otherworldly can become as familiar as whatever it is you grew up thinking was natural and good, trying new things and having discussions with people from other cultures paving alternative avenues of inquiry with multidimensional crystalline curiosity.
Hopefully after last weekend's horrific tragedy in Orlando, people feel more willing to embrace less extreme world views.
You could live as long as Apocalypse and still encounter fresh perspectives to challenge your variable order of things with plump compelling intergalactic différence.
Without losing sight of where you come from.
Cross-referencing conversational data with research undertaken at your local universal library.
Saturday, June 11, 2016
Spearmint
Intrinsic vouch juridic caution
causal flinchin' fallow flossin'
extradite in stitches rumoured
synchronistic fletched perfumers
sprinkle spangle viscous strum
Beirut bangle cherry plum
pursed immersed convected hastened
furrowed atavistic tastins
veridical.
causal flinchin' fallow flossin'
extradite in stitches rumoured
synchronistic fletched perfumers
sprinkle spangle viscous strum
Beirut bangle cherry plum
pursed immersed convected hastened
furrowed atavistic tastins
veridical.
Friday, June 10, 2016
Neighbours 2: Sorority Rising
Ambience.
New beginnings.
The Radner family continues to shed light on erroneous child rearing trials, practices, reflexively adapting to unpredictable circumstances with cohesive charm and salacious whimsy.
But another flock of rambunctious young adults is intent on wantonly expressing themselves next door, a blossoming sorority playing by their own rules to un/consciously break new emancipatory ground, unconcerned with the fact that Mac (Seth Rogen) and Kelly (Rose Byrne) are trying to sell their home, convivially coached by arch rival Teddy Sanders (Zac Efron).
Who's let go shortly thereafter.
Conflicted and forlorn, finding solace on the opposing team.
The result is a rushed collection of combative criticisms, relationship constructs, implausible rationalizations, and bold active dreams, dreams clashing as they seek definitive realization, the film heavy on good intentions, light on aerobic integrations.
Sloppy sequel.
On the one hand, there's a progressive element which depicts young women trying to succeed by asserting themselves using non-traditional means (that's cool), unfortunately relying on a man to start things up, on the other there's the typical sophomoric approach that utilizes tried and true marketable probabilities to sell the film, although sex isn't one of the main selling points.
The opposition doesn't blend well.
Like reading the newspaper on the toilet, Neighbours 2: Sorority Rising doesn't really progress even if moving forward's built into the narrative and it never slows down to encourage reflection, conflicting lifestyles producing some laughs, but still lacking the lubricants that irritably fuelled the original.
Even if it's a carbon copy.
Efron steals the show.
New beginnings.
The Radner family continues to shed light on erroneous child rearing trials, practices, reflexively adapting to unpredictable circumstances with cohesive charm and salacious whimsy.
But another flock of rambunctious young adults is intent on wantonly expressing themselves next door, a blossoming sorority playing by their own rules to un/consciously break new emancipatory ground, unconcerned with the fact that Mac (Seth Rogen) and Kelly (Rose Byrne) are trying to sell their home, convivially coached by arch rival Teddy Sanders (Zac Efron).
Who's let go shortly thereafter.
Conflicted and forlorn, finding solace on the opposing team.
The result is a rushed collection of combative criticisms, relationship constructs, implausible rationalizations, and bold active dreams, dreams clashing as they seek definitive realization, the film heavy on good intentions, light on aerobic integrations.
Sloppy sequel.
On the one hand, there's a progressive element which depicts young women trying to succeed by asserting themselves using non-traditional means (that's cool), unfortunately relying on a man to start things up, on the other there's the typical sophomoric approach that utilizes tried and true marketable probabilities to sell the film, although sex isn't one of the main selling points.
The opposition doesn't blend well.
Like reading the newspaper on the toilet, Neighbours 2: Sorority Rising doesn't really progress even if moving forward's built into the narrative and it never slows down to encourage reflection, conflicting lifestyles producing some laughs, but still lacking the lubricants that irritably fuelled the original.
Even if it's a carbon copy.
Efron steals the show.
Tuesday, June 7, 2016
Hardcore Henry
Apocalyptic awakening, immediately thrust into omnipresent annihilation, or birth in a fascist realm, unable to speak, cyborg awareness, the necessity of inductively coming to terms with what that means as a legion of minions attempts to obliterate you, escape from the blimp, follow the bread crumbs, instinctively strategize each and every incendiary reaction, awestruck athleticism, magnanimous masquerade, keep bursting with blunt obstinacy, survive to Frankenstein your creator, smash crunch dash ditch, pernicious reflexivity, maniacally coming into being.
Too insane.
Too psycho.
The opening credits suggest Hardcore Henry's parodying James Bond and is therefore supposed to be comedic, but if that's the case, it's a sick sense of humour that doesn't particularly impress.
The film's like a video game, like Henry's your character and you're trying to frenetically fight your way to the end, the unnerving celebration of violence perhaps meant to critique blitzkrieg obsessions, found in many a video game, less pronounced in Bond, still there, James Bond.
I don't think that's the case though, the opening credits also festively revelling in graphic death, Hardcore Henry consequently seeming like an elevation of violence for violence's sake rather than a reticent vituperative censor.
The audience is Henry as he fights his way to the top, always following his point of view.
Compliments for trying something different, but whereas this technique worked in Son of Saul, perhaps here suggesting that focusing too strongly on individuality leaves you suffering under constant threat, it's disorienting in Hardcore Henry.
The quasi-novelty wore off after 5 minutes and I quickly grew tired of the obscured frenzied panic.
Jimmy (Sharlto Copley) and his avatars provide comic relief but they also die brutally every time they provide information, as James Bond's contacts often do.
Way too much violence without much of a point.
I like raw bohemian unconcerned films, when they're done well, but Hardcore Henry just seems to be exploiting subconscious malevolence, like cockfighting or racism.
It's too easy.
Rash thoughtless elevations.
Scripted chaos.
Too insane.
Too psycho.
The opening credits suggest Hardcore Henry's parodying James Bond and is therefore supposed to be comedic, but if that's the case, it's a sick sense of humour that doesn't particularly impress.
The film's like a video game, like Henry's your character and you're trying to frenetically fight your way to the end, the unnerving celebration of violence perhaps meant to critique blitzkrieg obsessions, found in many a video game, less pronounced in Bond, still there, James Bond.
I don't think that's the case though, the opening credits also festively revelling in graphic death, Hardcore Henry consequently seeming like an elevation of violence for violence's sake rather than a reticent vituperative censor.
The audience is Henry as he fights his way to the top, always following his point of view.
Compliments for trying something different, but whereas this technique worked in Son of Saul, perhaps here suggesting that focusing too strongly on individuality leaves you suffering under constant threat, it's disorienting in Hardcore Henry.
The quasi-novelty wore off after 5 minutes and I quickly grew tired of the obscured frenzied panic.
Jimmy (Sharlto Copley) and his avatars provide comic relief but they also die brutally every time they provide information, as James Bond's contacts often do.
Way too much violence without much of a point.
I like raw bohemian unconcerned films, when they're done well, but Hardcore Henry just seems to be exploiting subconscious malevolence, like cockfighting or racism.
It's too easy.
Rash thoughtless elevations.
Scripted chaos.
Saturday, June 4, 2016
Windbreak
Infinitesimal excess
chagrin chaleur in cradled jest
the blanketed compacted pound
accelerates like eiderdown
rebound unearth besmirch subside
intergalactic fates imbibed
marauding mischief streaks calcite
bereddened leavened fancied flights
marmite marshmallow dynasty
consents resents wound up degrees
a' whistlin' wherefore shocks partaken
carefree contradicting matron
adjacent.
chagrin chaleur in cradled jest
the blanketed compacted pound
accelerates like eiderdown
rebound unearth besmirch subside
intergalactic fates imbibed
marauding mischief streaks calcite
bereddened leavened fancied flights
marmite marshmallow dynasty
consents resents wound up degrees
a' whistlin' wherefore shocks partaken
carefree contradicting matron
adjacent.
Friday, June 3, 2016
Il racconto dei racconti (Tale of Tales)
August propitious enveloping cocoon, swath the embellished confiding ruckus in lavender pretence corresponding can do.
Zodiac.
A mockery.
A complete lack of concern wickedly blended with seditious witness guides Il racconto dei racconti (Tale of Tales) as it dismally lampoons heroic adventure with self-deprecating panache and oblivious tender.
Viscidly challenging you to care for its bland, boring, banal, and bumptious characters, it insolently reminds you that you still haven't left the theatre.
The cinematography's compelling enough (Peter Suschitzky), stating the natural beauty contained herewithin is abundantly more profound than anything these stories have to offer, yet we wrote narratives anyways to illuminate our genuine contempt, for you, asinine aperture, belittle the ebb and flow.
Care for nothing.
Salacious stasis.
The foundations for something more tantalizing laid waste by exasperating lassitude.
Do absolutely nothing, harvest excessive applause.
Galavanting circuitry, crusading camp.
Zodiac.
A mockery.
A complete lack of concern wickedly blended with seditious witness guides Il racconto dei racconti (Tale of Tales) as it dismally lampoons heroic adventure with self-deprecating panache and oblivious tender.
Viscidly challenging you to care for its bland, boring, banal, and bumptious characters, it insolently reminds you that you still haven't left the theatre.
The cinematography's compelling enough (Peter Suschitzky), stating the natural beauty contained herewithin is abundantly more profound than anything these stories have to offer, yet we wrote narratives anyways to illuminate our genuine contempt, for you, asinine aperture, belittle the ebb and flow.
Care for nothing.
Salacious stasis.
The foundations for something more tantalizing laid waste by exasperating lassitude.
Do absolutely nothing, harvest excessive applause.
Galavanting circuitry, crusading camp.
Tuesday, May 31, 2016
Eye in the Sky
Speculation.
Strategic planning.
Cold calculation.
The human factor.
A peaceful Kenyan family who loathes yet fears extremists lives day to day in a militarized zone, embracing their loving routine while terrorists plot suicide attacks in the compound next door.
The British military has waited years to either capture or eliminate these fanatics and is ready to strike but requires direct authorization.
At the perfect moment, extraordinarily complicated and dangerous steps having been taken to ensure legalistic legitimacy, the adorable daughter (Aisha Takow as Alia Mo'Allim) of the family begins to sell bread within the proposed airstrike's targeted area.
Eye in the Sky hierarchically examines the politics and ethics of proceeding with the mission, humanistically stylizing the decision making process at executive, legal, operational, and civilian levels, internationally evaluating torrents and tributaries to disputatiously justify the repercussions of its actions, debate clad in detonation, textbook points on cue.
Interrogating the greater good.
The crucial unknown.
Millions have likely been spent leading up to the moment and preventing suicide attacks which will result in dozens of casualties seems like the logical decision.
But the peaceful family, if their daughter is killed, may then turn to extremism, convincing friends and relatives to join in the call.
I'm surprised this point wasn't mentioned in the dialogue which otherwise intellectually explores several hypothetical perspectives.
Conditionally, there are too many variables to confidently predict certain outcomes, and it is known that the terrorists are preparing to launch suicide attacks, and that dozens of deaths are more serious than one.
Painstaking steps are taken to ensure the girl's survival and a brave clever conscientious objection is even made by the soldier responsible for launching the strike.
Colonel Katherine Powell (Helen Mirren), eager to terminate her target, eventually takes matters into her own hands and lies about the girl's survival odds in order to secure the right to annihilate.
The audience is left to decide whether or not she made the correct decision.
The concluding moments, reminiscent of speeches made by Jean-Luc Picard, suggest director Gavin Hood thinks she did not.
War laid bare.
Unforeseen probabilities.
Possibility obscured.
Eye in the Sky rationally supports opposing viewpoints with argumentative clarity yet is somewhat too neat and tidy and at points I thought I was watching television.
It still boils down incredibly complex structures and their inherent departmental checks and balances to an accessible narrative replete with critical controversies.
Open-ended investigations.
Well thought out yet too polished at times, Eye in the Sky materializes the imaginary components integral to the ethics of fighting the war on terror, to lament both conscience and innocence, while statistically analyzing bursts of compassion.
Pleasantly lacking in sensation.
Loved the Alan Rickman (Lieutenant General Frank Benson).
Strategic planning.
Cold calculation.
The human factor.
A peaceful Kenyan family who loathes yet fears extremists lives day to day in a militarized zone, embracing their loving routine while terrorists plot suicide attacks in the compound next door.
The British military has waited years to either capture or eliminate these fanatics and is ready to strike but requires direct authorization.
At the perfect moment, extraordinarily complicated and dangerous steps having been taken to ensure legalistic legitimacy, the adorable daughter (Aisha Takow as Alia Mo'Allim) of the family begins to sell bread within the proposed airstrike's targeted area.
Eye in the Sky hierarchically examines the politics and ethics of proceeding with the mission, humanistically stylizing the decision making process at executive, legal, operational, and civilian levels, internationally evaluating torrents and tributaries to disputatiously justify the repercussions of its actions, debate clad in detonation, textbook points on cue.
Interrogating the greater good.
The crucial unknown.
Millions have likely been spent leading up to the moment and preventing suicide attacks which will result in dozens of casualties seems like the logical decision.
But the peaceful family, if their daughter is killed, may then turn to extremism, convincing friends and relatives to join in the call.
I'm surprised this point wasn't mentioned in the dialogue which otherwise intellectually explores several hypothetical perspectives.
Conditionally, there are too many variables to confidently predict certain outcomes, and it is known that the terrorists are preparing to launch suicide attacks, and that dozens of deaths are more serious than one.
Painstaking steps are taken to ensure the girl's survival and a brave clever conscientious objection is even made by the soldier responsible for launching the strike.
Colonel Katherine Powell (Helen Mirren), eager to terminate her target, eventually takes matters into her own hands and lies about the girl's survival odds in order to secure the right to annihilate.
The audience is left to decide whether or not she made the correct decision.
The concluding moments, reminiscent of speeches made by Jean-Luc Picard, suggest director Gavin Hood thinks she did not.
War laid bare.
Unforeseen probabilities.
Possibility obscured.
Eye in the Sky rationally supports opposing viewpoints with argumentative clarity yet is somewhat too neat and tidy and at points I thought I was watching television.
It still boils down incredibly complex structures and their inherent departmental checks and balances to an accessible narrative replete with critical controversies.
Open-ended investigations.
Well thought out yet too polished at times, Eye in the Sky materializes the imaginary components integral to the ethics of fighting the war on terror, to lament both conscience and innocence, while statistically analyzing bursts of compassion.
Pleasantly lacking in sensation.
Loved the Alan Rickman (Lieutenant General Frank Benson).
Sunday, May 29, 2016
Saturday, May 28, 2016
Flapjacks
No time for splits in sundry seconds
wits emblazoned quintepresence
keep on movin' one foot two
pace the shakes panfried deluge.
wits emblazoned quintepresence
keep on movin' one foot two
pace the shakes panfried deluge.
Friday, May 27, 2016
Money Monster
Televisual luminosity, the centripetal cynosure dazzlingly captivating your attention for a sensationally scripted surefire thirty slash sixty, making all the right moves, gimmicky ingratiation, applying the research so you don't have to, don't have to do anything, besides bask in his or her cardiovascular charisma, as he or she blows off your steam, and insulatingly ensures you make the correct decision.
But correct decisions are not always made, and if the viewer has not cultivated a cogent degree of critical awareness, tragedy can strike leaving bitter grievances pending.
Jodie Foster's Money Monster exorcizes such a scenario as Kyle Budwell (Jack O'Connell) loses his life savings following the guidance of Lee Gates's (George Clooney) networked investment extravaganza, and vengefully responds by taking his outputs hostage.
Live in real time.
Yet, as it becomes apparent that foul play may have been involved in the dealings of the company Gates lauded (IBIS Global Capital), the two begin to forge an investigatory friendship, hoping to reveal the truth, thereby saving both their good names.
Both!
The result is an entertaining heartwarming yet woeful examination of fraud, the broadcasters functioning like bourgeois intermediaries between the penniless and the plutocrats, impoverished angst voicing its anguish, malevolent miscalculations haunting the residue.
It had the opportunity to elaborately interrogate the dire financial predicaments many Americans find themselves in but only really touched the surface, focusing more of its attention on Gates's shock.
At one point you see Budwell passionately pleading on camera but you don't hear what he's saying as Gates's reaction is martyred.
Budwell has gone way too far but he could have been evidenced as more of a victim than a miscreant.
Should Chomsky have been consulted?
Most definitely yes.
The audiences watching Budwell's stand don't add much either. If individual members had been given personalities throughout, additional layers of reflective commentaries would have been added, like a web 2.0 factor.
Patty Fenn (Julia Roberts) and Diane Lester (Caitriona Balfe) do add level-headed managerial insights however, holding things together, interactively mediating and sleuthing.
Not as hard-hitting as I thought it would be, but still creatively conscious of economic crises.
Solid ethical entertainment.
But correct decisions are not always made, and if the viewer has not cultivated a cogent degree of critical awareness, tragedy can strike leaving bitter grievances pending.
Jodie Foster's Money Monster exorcizes such a scenario as Kyle Budwell (Jack O'Connell) loses his life savings following the guidance of Lee Gates's (George Clooney) networked investment extravaganza, and vengefully responds by taking his outputs hostage.
Live in real time.
Yet, as it becomes apparent that foul play may have been involved in the dealings of the company Gates lauded (IBIS Global Capital), the two begin to forge an investigatory friendship, hoping to reveal the truth, thereby saving both their good names.
Both!
The result is an entertaining heartwarming yet woeful examination of fraud, the broadcasters functioning like bourgeois intermediaries between the penniless and the plutocrats, impoverished angst voicing its anguish, malevolent miscalculations haunting the residue.
It had the opportunity to elaborately interrogate the dire financial predicaments many Americans find themselves in but only really touched the surface, focusing more of its attention on Gates's shock.
At one point you see Budwell passionately pleading on camera but you don't hear what he's saying as Gates's reaction is martyred.
Budwell has gone way too far but he could have been evidenced as more of a victim than a miscreant.
Should Chomsky have been consulted?
Most definitely yes.
The audiences watching Budwell's stand don't add much either. If individual members had been given personalities throughout, additional layers of reflective commentaries would have been added, like a web 2.0 factor.
Patty Fenn (Julia Roberts) and Diane Lester (Caitriona Balfe) do add level-headed managerial insights however, holding things together, interactively mediating and sleuthing.
Not as hard-hitting as I thought it would be, but still creatively conscious of economic crises.
Solid ethical entertainment.
Tuesday, May 24, 2016
The Messenger
I've been thinking that if you possessed the ability to identify sundry song birds while walking through the woods, that walk would be a much more rewarding experience.
There are so many.
I've always loved seeing bears and raccoons, deer and foxes, skunks, chipmunks, minks, but learning more about song birds now seems like the best way to expand my knowledge of the forest, which is in need of expansion, in the interests of lifelong learning.
Because there are so many of them, it's difficult to notice if species are declining if you no longer hear the song you can't identify; there are still plenty of other songs being sung, so it still seems like song bird populations aren't threatened or decreasing every year.
But according to Su Rynard's documentary The Messenger, song bird populations have been decreasing every year for at least 40 years, windows, cats, habitat loss, climate change and chemical insecticides thought to be largely responsible.
I know the inclusion of cats sounds odd.
Aren't cats and birds just interacting as they always have, like lions and zebras or wolves and deer?
It's not quite that simple, as The Messenger suggests, by lucidly pointing out that house cats are actually invasive species, brought with humans wherever they go.
If house cats are thought to be lions and song birds zebras, it's like North America had billions of zebras and no lions until domestic cats showed up on the scene, stealthily silencing many bird songs.
It's recommended that cat owners keep their cats indoors for longer periods of time, or all the time, for even if it may seem like your cat doesn't eat many birds, cats are annually responsible for 1.4 billion bird deaths, and 32 song bird species are now extinct because of cats.
The Messenger also points out how the bizarro French practice of eating ortolans whole, possibly other song birds as well, needs to stop. It's like hunting elephants for ivory. Ortolan numbers have plummeted and people are continuing to eat them, as poachers continue to kill elephants, extinction looming on the horizon, it's disgusting, plain and simple.
It's not just a trifling matter when a species disappears; ecosystems can be harshly effected.
The Messenger mentions how Mao's ludicrous campaign to kill all the tree sparrows in China because they ate grain resulted in 30 million human deaths. The tree sparrows also ate insects that ate crops and without the tree sparrows to eat them, thirty million people starved to death.
It's thought that ariel insectivores are declining in Europe and North America, song birds that live around farms and grasslands, because farmers are using neonicotinoids to kill insects. It's believed that these chemicals have no effect on the aquatic environments they saturate, but this may not be the case, and they may be killing additional insect populations in said environments which aerial insectivores eat to survive.
If farmers can find ways to encourage song birds to live on their farms, perhaps they wouldn't need chemical insecticides. Song birds and bats. According to The Messenger, song birds also excel at distributing seeds and pollinating plants, while forming links with other species that cultivate a healthy ecosystem. It's also nice having them around, hearing them sing, watching them perch and scavenge about.
Windows and lights are also responsible for prematurely ending the lives of many a song bird. Many of them can't see windows and fly straight into them. There are ways to adjust windows to make them bird friendly, notably placing distractions on them that help song birds to see that they're flying into a window rather than continuing on a safe path. Lights being left on at night near windows often attract song birds as well, who often migrate at night.
Climate change.
On the plus side, Icarus Technology allows people to track song birds as they migrate around the world. It must be fascinating following their flight paths as they travel from one continent to the next.
If song bird populations have been decreasing for decades, it's a sign that the phenomenon isn't cyclical, and something can be done about it.
The Messenger travels across the globe interviewing passionate song bird enthusiasts to help people better understand these oft overlooked naturalistic wonders.
Their songs have inspired and are inspiring great musicians. Their colouring is stunning. They play productive roles in nature. And these tiny creatures the size of one's hand travel back and forth from continent to continent to the same precise seemingly impossible to find location year after year.
If millions of people kept their cats inside for longer hours, adjusted their windows to make them bird friendly, and kept lights out when they're not using them, billions of song bird lives may be saved.
Ecotourism is flourishing here and there.
Why not apply that concept to suburban and urban environments?
The ecoburbs?
Bet they're already doing it in Germany . . .
There are so many.
I've always loved seeing bears and raccoons, deer and foxes, skunks, chipmunks, minks, but learning more about song birds now seems like the best way to expand my knowledge of the forest, which is in need of expansion, in the interests of lifelong learning.
Because there are so many of them, it's difficult to notice if species are declining if you no longer hear the song you can't identify; there are still plenty of other songs being sung, so it still seems like song bird populations aren't threatened or decreasing every year.
But according to Su Rynard's documentary The Messenger, song bird populations have been decreasing every year for at least 40 years, windows, cats, habitat loss, climate change and chemical insecticides thought to be largely responsible.
I know the inclusion of cats sounds odd.
Aren't cats and birds just interacting as they always have, like lions and zebras or wolves and deer?
It's not quite that simple, as The Messenger suggests, by lucidly pointing out that house cats are actually invasive species, brought with humans wherever they go.
If house cats are thought to be lions and song birds zebras, it's like North America had billions of zebras and no lions until domestic cats showed up on the scene, stealthily silencing many bird songs.
It's recommended that cat owners keep their cats indoors for longer periods of time, or all the time, for even if it may seem like your cat doesn't eat many birds, cats are annually responsible for 1.4 billion bird deaths, and 32 song bird species are now extinct because of cats.
The Messenger also points out how the bizarro French practice of eating ortolans whole, possibly other song birds as well, needs to stop. It's like hunting elephants for ivory. Ortolan numbers have plummeted and people are continuing to eat them, as poachers continue to kill elephants, extinction looming on the horizon, it's disgusting, plain and simple.
It's not just a trifling matter when a species disappears; ecosystems can be harshly effected.
The Messenger mentions how Mao's ludicrous campaign to kill all the tree sparrows in China because they ate grain resulted in 30 million human deaths. The tree sparrows also ate insects that ate crops and without the tree sparrows to eat them, thirty million people starved to death.
It's thought that ariel insectivores are declining in Europe and North America, song birds that live around farms and grasslands, because farmers are using neonicotinoids to kill insects. It's believed that these chemicals have no effect on the aquatic environments they saturate, but this may not be the case, and they may be killing additional insect populations in said environments which aerial insectivores eat to survive.
If farmers can find ways to encourage song birds to live on their farms, perhaps they wouldn't need chemical insecticides. Song birds and bats. According to The Messenger, song birds also excel at distributing seeds and pollinating plants, while forming links with other species that cultivate a healthy ecosystem. It's also nice having them around, hearing them sing, watching them perch and scavenge about.
Windows and lights are also responsible for prematurely ending the lives of many a song bird. Many of them can't see windows and fly straight into them. There are ways to adjust windows to make them bird friendly, notably placing distractions on them that help song birds to see that they're flying into a window rather than continuing on a safe path. Lights being left on at night near windows often attract song birds as well, who often migrate at night.
Climate change.
On the plus side, Icarus Technology allows people to track song birds as they migrate around the world. It must be fascinating following their flight paths as they travel from one continent to the next.
If song bird populations have been decreasing for decades, it's a sign that the phenomenon isn't cyclical, and something can be done about it.
The Messenger travels across the globe interviewing passionate song bird enthusiasts to help people better understand these oft overlooked naturalistic wonders.
Their songs have inspired and are inspiring great musicians. Their colouring is stunning. They play productive roles in nature. And these tiny creatures the size of one's hand travel back and forth from continent to continent to the same precise seemingly impossible to find location year after year.
If millions of people kept their cats inside for longer hours, adjusted their windows to make them bird friendly, and kept lights out when they're not using them, billions of song bird lives may be saved.
Ecotourism is flourishing here and there.
Why not apply that concept to suburban and urban environments?
The ecoburbs?
Bet they're already doing it in Germany . . .
Saturday, May 21, 2016
Whiplash
Thorns the flooding cheerio
la budding transfixed quid pro quo
hot salsa lashes señorita
tanned aesthetic peach surfeitia
quenched entrenched resolved exchequer
continental shawled confessor
entre deux betwixt impressions
sultry pedagogic sessions
slid head first to second base
traversed diverse frenetic wastes
to taste the aftershocks in mellow
transitory slipstream bellows
enchilada.
la budding transfixed quid pro quo
hot salsa lashes señorita
tanned aesthetic peach surfeitia
quenched entrenched resolved exchequer
continental shawled confessor
entre deux betwixt impressions
sultry pedagogic sessions
slid head first to second base
traversed diverse frenetic wastes
to taste the aftershocks in mellow
transitory slipstream bellows
enchilada.
Friday, May 20, 2016
Captain America: Civil War
Infused with regenerative contemplative crucibles, Captain America: Civil War reflectively considers its own mortality, reinvigorating its lifeforce thereby, with abundant earthen pyrotechnic implosions.
Like Mad Max: Fury Road, Civil War doesn't focus primarily on one or two characters, preferring to simultaneously develop several of its bracing recruits, while introducing new additions and a brilliant mild-mannered villain (Daniel Brühl as Zemo).
The super villain is usually larger-than-life, obviously enough, and it was nice to see this tendency altered with a subtle human touch.
Vision (Paul Bettany) points out how the activities of the Avengers have served to encourage antithetical tyrannical histrionics, the challenge of defeating them too irresistible for megalomaniacs to ignore, power mad lunatics who might have remained inert in their absence, inimically keeping themselves in check.
Makes sense.
But Civil War is mainly concerned with civilian casualties (like Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice), with decision making and oversight, Falcon (Anthony Mackie) reminding Captain America (Chris Evans) that the wicked are shooting at him too, the United Nations stepping in to neuter their independence.
It follows the Captain America storyline closely as Cap continues to try to save his old friend Bucky (Sebastian Stan), but I'd argue it's the 3rd Avengers film. Some of them are missing, but Civil War examines the dynamics of the Avengers much more closely than Captain America's, slowly breaking down their chummy conviviality, as Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) and Cap bitterly establish opposing factions.
The UN believes the Avengers should be held accountable for their future actions and seeks to establish a committee to decide when and where to deploy them should the forces of evil contend.
Generosity not being solely an impulse of the guilty, Stark still feels regret for the innocents who have died on his watch, and agrees that the Avengers's actions should be legally sanctioned to prevent further loss of life.
Captain America disagrees, thinking their startling efficiencies will be unnecessarily disillusioned by bureaucratic finagling and polemical delays.
The Avengers consequently divide and even battle one another as immediacy demands their intervention once more.
When they do intervene, do they do so too quickly, without applying enough thought to the side-effects of their engagements, ignoring local, national, and global laws as they save the world from imminent destruction?
Are they justified in responding instantaneously, since their enemies are usually universally threatening?
Early on in the film, a split-second decision almost releases a deadly biological agent into an urban environment, which would have likely killed thousands.
They are capable of managing such scenarios, but a slight miscalculation and they would have been responsible for the deaths.
Yet if Loki invades again with another bloodthirsty army intent on enslaving the planet, then it makes sense that the Avengers should charge in head on.
If a committee was responsible for authorizing such a defence they most likely would if they were indeed thinking clearly.
But as the aura of the Avengers intensifies and their enemies expand exponentially, how will they deal with concurrent attacks launched from different locations around the world?
Does it make sense that they each train their own specialized forces to be ready to defend different domains at the same time, the United Nations providing their counterstrikes with a centralized governing authority, with members of the Avengers advising them as needs be?
But HYDRA has undoubtably infiltrated the UN (and are perhaps working with Loki in a Vichyesque fashion) and would likely attempt to use its influence to frustrate the Avengers therewithin.
If the Avengers are guided by the UN it clears their conscience of responsibility, unless they're prevented from acting which may augment crushing pangs of guilt afterwards (I'm thinking Superman II).
The Avengers have entered the political realm, wherein most actions are polarized, no matter how many times you apologize, and a resultant stoic ambivalence enables its representatives to constructively cope with the fallout.
The best Marvel film thus far, making good on its Empire Strikes Back reference (the audacity), Captain America: Civil War cerebrally moves the franchise forward, sacrificing sensation for revelation, spry self-aware matriculation.
The action's secondary to the thought.
Big time character development.
Scenes that could have been cut are left in to the film's advantage.
It's more like solid drama than fantasy.
Blown away.
Note: sarcasm is often employed by intelligent people but watch for the person who isn't intelligent yet picks up on the fact that if you respond to something someone says sarcastically you can often win over the crowd without having to explain why you're responding sarcastically. Some people realize that all you have to do is employ the sarcastic tone without offering further explanation to win arguments without ever actually saying anything. It's just repetition. A troublesome bunch.
Like Mad Max: Fury Road, Civil War doesn't focus primarily on one or two characters, preferring to simultaneously develop several of its bracing recruits, while introducing new additions and a brilliant mild-mannered villain (Daniel Brühl as Zemo).
The super villain is usually larger-than-life, obviously enough, and it was nice to see this tendency altered with a subtle human touch.
Vision (Paul Bettany) points out how the activities of the Avengers have served to encourage antithetical tyrannical histrionics, the challenge of defeating them too irresistible for megalomaniacs to ignore, power mad lunatics who might have remained inert in their absence, inimically keeping themselves in check.
Makes sense.
But Civil War is mainly concerned with civilian casualties (like Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice), with decision making and oversight, Falcon (Anthony Mackie) reminding Captain America (Chris Evans) that the wicked are shooting at him too, the United Nations stepping in to neuter their independence.
It follows the Captain America storyline closely as Cap continues to try to save his old friend Bucky (Sebastian Stan), but I'd argue it's the 3rd Avengers film. Some of them are missing, but Civil War examines the dynamics of the Avengers much more closely than Captain America's, slowly breaking down their chummy conviviality, as Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) and Cap bitterly establish opposing factions.
The UN believes the Avengers should be held accountable for their future actions and seeks to establish a committee to decide when and where to deploy them should the forces of evil contend.
Generosity not being solely an impulse of the guilty, Stark still feels regret for the innocents who have died on his watch, and agrees that the Avengers's actions should be legally sanctioned to prevent further loss of life.
Captain America disagrees, thinking their startling efficiencies will be unnecessarily disillusioned by bureaucratic finagling and polemical delays.
The Avengers consequently divide and even battle one another as immediacy demands their intervention once more.
When they do intervene, do they do so too quickly, without applying enough thought to the side-effects of their engagements, ignoring local, national, and global laws as they save the world from imminent destruction?
Are they justified in responding instantaneously, since their enemies are usually universally threatening?
Early on in the film, a split-second decision almost releases a deadly biological agent into an urban environment, which would have likely killed thousands.
They are capable of managing such scenarios, but a slight miscalculation and they would have been responsible for the deaths.
Yet if Loki invades again with another bloodthirsty army intent on enslaving the planet, then it makes sense that the Avengers should charge in head on.
If a committee was responsible for authorizing such a defence they most likely would if they were indeed thinking clearly.
But as the aura of the Avengers intensifies and their enemies expand exponentially, how will they deal with concurrent attacks launched from different locations around the world?
Does it make sense that they each train their own specialized forces to be ready to defend different domains at the same time, the United Nations providing their counterstrikes with a centralized governing authority, with members of the Avengers advising them as needs be?
But HYDRA has undoubtably infiltrated the UN (and are perhaps working with Loki in a Vichyesque fashion) and would likely attempt to use its influence to frustrate the Avengers therewithin.
If the Avengers are guided by the UN it clears their conscience of responsibility, unless they're prevented from acting which may augment crushing pangs of guilt afterwards (I'm thinking Superman II).
The Avengers have entered the political realm, wherein most actions are polarized, no matter how many times you apologize, and a resultant stoic ambivalence enables its representatives to constructively cope with the fallout.
The best Marvel film thus far, making good on its Empire Strikes Back reference (the audacity), Captain America: Civil War cerebrally moves the franchise forward, sacrificing sensation for revelation, spry self-aware matriculation.
The action's secondary to the thought.
Big time character development.
Scenes that could have been cut are left in to the film's advantage.
It's more like solid drama than fantasy.
Blown away.
Note: sarcasm is often employed by intelligent people but watch for the person who isn't intelligent yet picks up on the fact that if you respond to something someone says sarcastically you can often win over the crowd without having to explain why you're responding sarcastically. Some people realize that all you have to do is employ the sarcastic tone without offering further explanation to win arguments without ever actually saying anything. It's just repetition. A troublesome bunch.
Tuesday, May 17, 2016
Sleeping Giant
Rest and relaxation, worry free contemplation blended with spirited solace and imaginary blunders, tranquility, wandering here and there to curiously explore, observing this, defining that, revelry and romance serendipitously replenishing, merrymaking mischief immersed in mirth and candour, spontaneous wit and jocose gentility, a Summer celebrated in the woods at bay, fellowships fermenting, in rowdy eccentric arbor.
I wish it could have been like that throughout Andrew Cividino's Sleeping Giant, just scene after scene of amazed revelation accompanied by stunning imagery and various fauna, a study of freewill rambunctiously investigating its surroundings, but I suppose films often have points, points to make, and conflicts, morals, tragedies, resolutions.
They're prominent features of story telling ;).
Sleeping Giant examines three young adult friends with nothing to do all Summer but soak up the rays.
Adam Hudson (Jackson Martin) is intelligent and shy, less interested in fighting, theft, booze, and drugs, but willing to go along for the ride.
Riley (Reece Moffett) is confident and direct, easy to get along with, chill, cool, breezy.
Nate (Nick Serino [Serino's like a younger Brad Dourif]) is a jealous vindictive punk who compensates for his lack of booksmarts with abrasively striking observations.
He finds out that Adam's father (David Disher as William Hudson) cheated on his wife (Lorraine Philp as Linda Hudson) after hours which frustrates things as their friendship slowly breaks down, sort of like 1er amour but Mrs. Hudson never finds out.
Adam's family is groovier than Riley and Nate's.
Riley don't care but Nate takes exception.
The narrative boils down to extroverted boorishness interacting with introverted contemplation, Riley caught between Adam and Nate as the latter becomes increasingly hostile.
Since Adam gets along well with Riley but poorly with Nate, Sleeping Giant isn't necessarily narratively characterizing demographic stereotypes, although Nate does wind up dead in the end, perhaps suggesting that when envious aggressive not-so-smart blowhards try to take control the results can be disastrous, and insects are featured throughout, one burned alive.
Did Cividino love Joe's So Mean to Josephine in his youth?
I was super impressed with the film regardless. Cividino's not as wild as Xavier Dolan but his thoughtful illustrations and gentle delineations reminded me of his films, environmental encapsulations, im/permanence in jest.
Forested.
Didn't like seeing the insect burned alive though.
I think I should have been a buddhist.
Enchanting woe.
Extracurricular.
Cinematography by James Klopko.
I wish it could have been like that throughout Andrew Cividino's Sleeping Giant, just scene after scene of amazed revelation accompanied by stunning imagery and various fauna, a study of freewill rambunctiously investigating its surroundings, but I suppose films often have points, points to make, and conflicts, morals, tragedies, resolutions.
They're prominent features of story telling ;).
Sleeping Giant examines three young adult friends with nothing to do all Summer but soak up the rays.
Adam Hudson (Jackson Martin) is intelligent and shy, less interested in fighting, theft, booze, and drugs, but willing to go along for the ride.
Riley (Reece Moffett) is confident and direct, easy to get along with, chill, cool, breezy.
Nate (Nick Serino [Serino's like a younger Brad Dourif]) is a jealous vindictive punk who compensates for his lack of booksmarts with abrasively striking observations.
He finds out that Adam's father (David Disher as William Hudson) cheated on his wife (Lorraine Philp as Linda Hudson) after hours which frustrates things as their friendship slowly breaks down, sort of like 1er amour but Mrs. Hudson never finds out.
Adam's family is groovier than Riley and Nate's.
Riley don't care but Nate takes exception.
The narrative boils down to extroverted boorishness interacting with introverted contemplation, Riley caught between Adam and Nate as the latter becomes increasingly hostile.
Since Adam gets along well with Riley but poorly with Nate, Sleeping Giant isn't necessarily narratively characterizing demographic stereotypes, although Nate does wind up dead in the end, perhaps suggesting that when envious aggressive not-so-smart blowhards try to take control the results can be disastrous, and insects are featured throughout, one burned alive.
Did Cividino love Joe's So Mean to Josephine in his youth?
I was super impressed with the film regardless. Cividino's not as wild as Xavier Dolan but his thoughtful illustrations and gentle delineations reminded me of his films, environmental encapsulations, im/permanence in jest.
Forested.
Didn't like seeing the insect burned alive though.
I think I should have been a buddhist.
Enchanting woe.
Extracurricular.
Cinematography by James Klopko.
Saturday, May 14, 2016
Estuary
Embryonic resonance
intrepid shuffle soixante lent
a jostlin' nubile hair string stellar
bewitched kindled turnstile dweller
Vincent's strewn electrochops
a' brewin' thermal hops beebop
in seizure palpating sense
introescapading pence
free airs forlorn espied in sentence
quatro kernels incandescence
meriting tick tock therefore
no time for sleep forevermore
alors.
intrepid shuffle soixante lent
a jostlin' nubile hair string stellar
bewitched kindled turnstile dweller
Vincent's strewn electrochops
a' brewin' thermal hops beebop
in seizure palpating sense
introescapading pence
free airs forlorn espied in sentence
quatro kernels incandescence
meriting tick tock therefore
no time for sleep forevermore
alors.
Friday, May 13, 2016
Keanu
Can a ridiculous plot supported by an irresistible gimmick cast aside its kitschy credulity to generate a quivering constellation which instructively calibrates curricula of its own?
The cutesy.
The adorable.
Keanu does demonstrate how one can go about teaching struggling lost disadvantaged youth after bourgeois nice guy Clarence Goobril (Keegan-Michael Key) infiltrates a drug trafficking gang to help his depressed friend Rell Williams (Jordan Peele) recover his beloved kitten, using the music of George Michael to elucidate the art of communication, skills which they hilariously apply during the film's rambunctious climax.
Immersed in reckless carnage.
Said climax pulls together the best aspects of the film and was fun to watch but the build up consistently stalls since it's painfully apparent that these two suburbanites could never have tricked anyone.
The uneducated aren't that dumb you know.
It's too light.
Because it's too light, the situations Clarence (Smoke Dresden) and Rell (Oil Dresden) find themselves within lack the threat of death, even when they're almost killed, which is what Keanu required to transform into something other than a cute cat movie.
Yet, if they had just kept reintroducing Keanu, the sought after kitten, throughout, making him an integral part of the story rather than losing sight of him for prolonged periods, I probably would have thought, this makes no sense, it's a great nonsensical idea, and this incredibly loveable kitten's frequent appearances at least acknowledge the incoherency, highlighting its inherent encumbrances, while reminding me not to take it too seriously.
Instead I was stuck taking it seriously as it tried to be serious, Keanu having indeed plucked its lilies, to be crushed by the weight of its praiseworthy gambit.
Short-term prison sentences awaiting the heroes in the end.
Keanu!
Keanu!
The cutesy.
The adorable.
Keanu does demonstrate how one can go about teaching struggling lost disadvantaged youth after bourgeois nice guy Clarence Goobril (Keegan-Michael Key) infiltrates a drug trafficking gang to help his depressed friend Rell Williams (Jordan Peele) recover his beloved kitten, using the music of George Michael to elucidate the art of communication, skills which they hilariously apply during the film's rambunctious climax.
Immersed in reckless carnage.
Said climax pulls together the best aspects of the film and was fun to watch but the build up consistently stalls since it's painfully apparent that these two suburbanites could never have tricked anyone.
The uneducated aren't that dumb you know.
It's too light.
Because it's too light, the situations Clarence (Smoke Dresden) and Rell (Oil Dresden) find themselves within lack the threat of death, even when they're almost killed, which is what Keanu required to transform into something other than a cute cat movie.
Yet, if they had just kept reintroducing Keanu, the sought after kitten, throughout, making him an integral part of the story rather than losing sight of him for prolonged periods, I probably would have thought, this makes no sense, it's a great nonsensical idea, and this incredibly loveable kitten's frequent appearances at least acknowledge the incoherency, highlighting its inherent encumbrances, while reminding me not to take it too seriously.
Instead I was stuck taking it seriously as it tried to be serious, Keanu having indeed plucked its lilies, to be crushed by the weight of its praiseworthy gambit.
Short-term prison sentences awaiting the heroes in the end.
Keanu!
Keanu!
Tuesday, May 10, 2016
The Dark Horse
A gentle soul plagued by mental illness finds himself caught between brother and nephew in James Napier Robertson's The Dark Horse.
Solemnity.
Mana's (James Rolleston) father (Wayne Hapi as Ariki) survived by joining a violent gang.
It's the life he knows and he wants his son to become a member so that he can feel safe as he dies believing he'll be taken care of.
His son loathes the senseless brutal thuggery however and doesn't want to live a life of crime.
His uncle Genesis (Cliff Curtis) is a brilliant chess player who also possesses an exhaustive understanding of his culture's mythology but may have never held a job and can hardly take care of himself.
Nevertheless, as he finds purpose helping to manage an after school club for disadvantaged youth, telling them stories and teaching them chess in preparation for a tournament, his nephew gravitates towards his civility as his father's partners become increasingly aggressive.
Ariki has told his brother to stay away from his son, and their ensuing dialectic, brashly shy and modestly brave, disputatiously contends for Mana's future, both of them eventually accepting that they need to acknowledge his own individualistic dreams.
The Dark Horse beautifully elevates the constructive art of teaching while harshly contrasting it with stark economic bellows, Olympian highs and devastating punishments masterfully articulated with naive bracing culpability.
Life without opportunity can be eviscerating so I don't stubbornly fault people for making desperate decisions, although I do commend those who struggle in different ways, creating something durable and friendly in a culture of bitter cynicism.
You feel bad for all the participants involved accept Mutt (Barry Te Hira) who's clearly evil.
Building a community from nothing, nurturing hope and togetherness through board games and puzzles as opposed to drugs and alcohol; something to think about.
Genesis is a character who sticks with you, clearly ill-equipped to deal with the quotidian yet exceptionally gifted at enlivening the imaginary.
An artist you know.
Perhaps the best kind.
Solemnity.
Mana's (James Rolleston) father (Wayne Hapi as Ariki) survived by joining a violent gang.
It's the life he knows and he wants his son to become a member so that he can feel safe as he dies believing he'll be taken care of.
His son loathes the senseless brutal thuggery however and doesn't want to live a life of crime.
His uncle Genesis (Cliff Curtis) is a brilliant chess player who also possesses an exhaustive understanding of his culture's mythology but may have never held a job and can hardly take care of himself.
Nevertheless, as he finds purpose helping to manage an after school club for disadvantaged youth, telling them stories and teaching them chess in preparation for a tournament, his nephew gravitates towards his civility as his father's partners become increasingly aggressive.
Ariki has told his brother to stay away from his son, and their ensuing dialectic, brashly shy and modestly brave, disputatiously contends for Mana's future, both of them eventually accepting that they need to acknowledge his own individualistic dreams.
The Dark Horse beautifully elevates the constructive art of teaching while harshly contrasting it with stark economic bellows, Olympian highs and devastating punishments masterfully articulated with naive bracing culpability.
Life without opportunity can be eviscerating so I don't stubbornly fault people for making desperate decisions, although I do commend those who struggle in different ways, creating something durable and friendly in a culture of bitter cynicism.
You feel bad for all the participants involved accept Mutt (Barry Te Hira) who's clearly evil.
Building a community from nothing, nurturing hope and togetherness through board games and puzzles as opposed to drugs and alcohol; something to think about.
Genesis is a character who sticks with you, clearly ill-equipped to deal with the quotidian yet exceptionally gifted at enlivening the imaginary.
An artist you know.
Perhaps the best kind.
Saturday, May 7, 2016
Lunchbox
Hurdling streaks sweltering pressure
instant grasp salient rigour
questions proposed evanescence everlasting
genuine expedience, hardhearted contempt.
I bought a bushel 6 plus 3
then swished the lemon in my tea.
Strolling through the streets to savour
sundry multiethnic flavours.
Aloe.
instant grasp salient rigour
questions proposed evanescence everlasting
genuine expedience, hardhearted contempt.
I bought a bushel 6 plus 3
then swished the lemon in my tea.
Strolling through the streets to savour
sundry multiethnic flavours.
Aloe.
Friday, May 6, 2016
Criminal
Shockingly discarded as an infant, an incarcerated sociopath is given a second chance to live, but in order to do so the consciousness of another must be creatively grafted onto his soul, so that he can discover the whereabouts of an unwilling terrorist, and terminate the dictations of armageddon.
Does the soul have anything to do with consciousness? Does it exist? Is it an eternal regenerative quintessence that innocently survives death regardless of the ways in which an individual lived his or her life, radiating thereafter in a transitory state able to embrace different forms of illumination with permanent subjective clarity?
No clue.
Bill Pope's (Ryan Reynolds) soul/consciousness becomes an integral part of Jericho Stewart's (Kevin Costner) in Ariel Vroman's Criminal however, enabling him to feel for the first time, as he's covetously hunted for instinctively seeking freedom.
There were aspects of Criminal I would have changed had I been given final edit, but I loved the film's laid-back sensationalism.
An anarchist seeking global rule can unleash the apocalypse if he gathers the information he seeks.
But the film's lack of stunning visuals, Kevin Costner's chill performance (even if he's constantly fighting), and unconvincing poorly written villain (Jordi Mollà as Xavier Heimdahl), deflate its grandiose pretensions while smoothly levelling-out the inherent absurdity.
I would have changed the beginning and ending even if they celebrate redemption (there must have been another way to do this), Jericho does remember highly advanced details at times that seem at odds with his brief sudden visual intuitions, and when he's on his way to take on Heimdahl, I would have cut the scene where Dr. Franks (Tommy Lee Jones) asks him to stop (hardcore cheese).
Nonetheless, it's like watching a film from the 90s, direct and to the point, kinetically intermingling the unapologetic and the angelic with wholesome rash rage, I actually felt like it was the 90s while viewing, well done well done.
Criminal blends the violent and the gentle with dramatic comedic indifference that leaves you anticipating what's to come in terms of the consciously conscientious.
The world could end if an unrepentant criminal doesn't act on lessons internalized from a disparate personality living inside him and challenge those responsible for his eclectic demise.
It uses the surveillance techniques revealed by Snowden to disable a mad terrorist yet keeps George Orwell in the loop to critique those very same surveillance techniques, slyly playing a clever double game.
If you take the film seriously, it seems like it's naturalizing ubiquitous surveillance.
If you appreciate the ludicrousness, it's like it's championing Orwell.
Jericho was under constant surveillance but in the end he's a free man, potentially with both job and family.
Thought provoking.
Bunch of great actors delivering modest performances that help procreate the film's unconcerned momentum (apart from Gary Oldham [Quaker Wells]) who has to be livid).
I think it's pastiching The Terminator. The villain wants to be responsible for Judgment Day. Jericho is like a Terminator. And someone says, "get out," at one point.
There's a great shot from the top of a stairwell looking down on Jericho as he looks up, the shot accompanied by a platter of apples on the first floor.
Solid character names.
Does the soul have anything to do with consciousness? Does it exist? Is it an eternal regenerative quintessence that innocently survives death regardless of the ways in which an individual lived his or her life, radiating thereafter in a transitory state able to embrace different forms of illumination with permanent subjective clarity?
No clue.
Bill Pope's (Ryan Reynolds) soul/consciousness becomes an integral part of Jericho Stewart's (Kevin Costner) in Ariel Vroman's Criminal however, enabling him to feel for the first time, as he's covetously hunted for instinctively seeking freedom.
There were aspects of Criminal I would have changed had I been given final edit, but I loved the film's laid-back sensationalism.
An anarchist seeking global rule can unleash the apocalypse if he gathers the information he seeks.
But the film's lack of stunning visuals, Kevin Costner's chill performance (even if he's constantly fighting), and unconvincing poorly written villain (Jordi Mollà as Xavier Heimdahl), deflate its grandiose pretensions while smoothly levelling-out the inherent absurdity.
I would have changed the beginning and ending even if they celebrate redemption (there must have been another way to do this), Jericho does remember highly advanced details at times that seem at odds with his brief sudden visual intuitions, and when he's on his way to take on Heimdahl, I would have cut the scene where Dr. Franks (Tommy Lee Jones) asks him to stop (hardcore cheese).
Nonetheless, it's like watching a film from the 90s, direct and to the point, kinetically intermingling the unapologetic and the angelic with wholesome rash rage, I actually felt like it was the 90s while viewing, well done well done.
Criminal blends the violent and the gentle with dramatic comedic indifference that leaves you anticipating what's to come in terms of the consciously conscientious.
The world could end if an unrepentant criminal doesn't act on lessons internalized from a disparate personality living inside him and challenge those responsible for his eclectic demise.
It uses the surveillance techniques revealed by Snowden to disable a mad terrorist yet keeps George Orwell in the loop to critique those very same surveillance techniques, slyly playing a clever double game.
If you take the film seriously, it seems like it's naturalizing ubiquitous surveillance.
If you appreciate the ludicrousness, it's like it's championing Orwell.
Jericho was under constant surveillance but in the end he's a free man, potentially with both job and family.
Thought provoking.
Bunch of great actors delivering modest performances that help procreate the film's unconcerned momentum (apart from Gary Oldham [Quaker Wells]) who has to be livid).
I think it's pastiching The Terminator. The villain wants to be responsible for Judgment Day. Jericho is like a Terminator. And someone says, "get out," at one point.
There's a great shot from the top of a stairwell looking down on Jericho as he looks up, the shot accompanied by a platter of apples on the first floor.
Solid character names.
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