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Showing posts from September, 2013

Prisoners

Prisoners The movie begins with Hugh Jackman's character, Keller Dover, attending his son's successful kill of a deer. Just into the film, we're not quite sure what to prioritize, how much yet to ascribe any particular that strays into our sight, so we give the fact that the movie shows hunting to be about springing on an animal whose attention is preoccupied elsewhere, full due. Hunting means killing, and possibly in the process, terribly wounding an animal whose flank is to you. When Keller salutes his son for the effort, we're certainly willing to submerge this fact so it doesn't too much incriminate a father whose love for his son is real, but it's certainly not completely out of mind when Keller's best friend's oldest daughter asks his son if he is comfortable stalking deer. The son replies not with his experience but with what his father would say in retort: hunting is a way to keep nature in balance ... and besides, how soon are you

The Family

The Family When the mob family descends on their new locale, a quaint village in northern France, their identity is of American. The mobster's wife, Michelle Pfeiffer's character Maggie, enters into a local grocery and asks for peanut butter, descending upon her a crowd of locals dismaying American obesity. Certainly too, when the teen boy and girl in the family join the local school, they're the improvising, brass-balled Americans, whomever sets out to take advantage of them regrets their imposition near immediately. Later, however, it would seem that what they are mostly is Italian--Maggie is fierce in pitting her olive oil diet against the French obsession with cream, as if bulwarked by centuries of Italian lives and culture. They churn out burgers and Cokes for the locals, only to satisfy expectations--Americanism has become a red cape they float before onrushing french bulls they're cannily flanking and spotting out. I'm not quite sure how much fun it is to

Insidious 2

Insidious 2 I leave it to Insidious 2 to faithfully expound upon the most significant fact about evil--those doing it aren't themselves, but rather are possessed by alters driving them to take sadistic pleasure in murdering innocents. It's quite something, after seeing the damage the adult Parker Crane has done to women he's culled from local denizens--rotted bodies aligned in church rows--to finally be introduced to him as a young boy, and for him to be attributed about the same amount of empathy as the good boy in the film, Josh Lambert. They spy him in long braids and a girl's dress, combing his doll's hair. When he turns around, he actually warns them to get out of the room--he actually tries to help them! Later we see his mother descend upon him and make him feel as if his entire known universe will be squashed out if he doesn't obey her in all respects, and cast himself in the role of female full-time so to be fully owned by her and bear no resemblance

The Butler

The Butler 
The current generation of liberals have clearly reached expiry date when they find themselves—without knowing it, of course—actually favoring Uncle Toms, thereby becoming exactly those whom they in their better days would have been at lead in toppling. The current black situation is that the huge bulk of them are in the dispossessed 99%, with the vast majority, in the worst ghettos of this unlucky group. And liberals look at this group, and see a hopeless situation. They see people who have simply transmogrified, who, having their claim on bourgeois respectability taken from them, have over the last 30 years of taking sustenance from the sort of foul stuff you count as familiar when you're trying to makeshift an accommodating life for yourself in hell—with cock-fight UFC becoming your sport, sadomasochistic  Fifty Shades your fiction, heavy whiskey drinking your milk, and hard-core porn and online-betting not even a poke that something has gone wrong—and