Hector's Making A List, Checking and Strive.

This is why we need friends. At least Russovoir is experientially speaking for himself. He would have never taken a second look for Hector and the Search for Happiness. This hasn't happened just once too! Ben Affleck's Academy Award-winning Argo for instance. It didn't look appealing enough, not catchy enough. Not so much from its trailer, that which, apologetically, hadn't had surfaced in the interim before a movie normally starts, but more of the Academy Award Best Picture's poster. Dreary, Russovoir thought. While we should account visual presentation, just as plating is to food, on our movie posters, we must not judge a film by its boring poster. And oh, almost forgot, if it wouldn't have been for a friend, Deya Rosales, one night Russovoir bumped into at the mall, ignorance for Argo, a thrill-seeker blockbuster, would've had been a son of a bliss.
    
Remy Soni. The friend responsible for my superfluous yet each one sincere thank you's for granting a FREE movie screening of Hector and the Search for Happiness. One could tell, already, Russovoir found happiness in the fortune. But only just the beginning; there couldn't be any other way anyway, otherwise there is no point of gathering you all here. Simon Pegg's HSH is a perfect Christmas* film (*R-18)

HSH, abbreviated, because, foremost on factors affecting passing on this film is its title. Can they get any longer? Understandably, often, films need to have a longer title for specification (Harry Potter and the Sorcerer Stone) or each word is dependent to the other; the article 'the' and prepositions 'of', 'to', e.g. (Guardians of the Galaxy). It wouldn't work if we remove a word. Imagine, simply Search for Happiness. Isn't that simpler, easier, catchier? To aspiring screen writers out there, if you can help it, K.I.S.S. your movie titles. Keep It Short and Sweet. Retention is the greater marketing.

Even so, all is forgiven (mainly because it's based from a Francis Lelord novel of the same title). The story gave Russovoir the touchy-feely. He wanted to be loved right there, right now, in between arm rests and darkness abreast. The style in which both the journey and destination of searching for happiness is a nodding, finger-wagging experience. "I wish I had a notepad to write all those points down.", Remy confessed not long after. If we could have, we would have. There were many valuable quotes from the chance encounters of Hector (Pegg) that ultimately filled his 'adventure notebook' his wife Clara (Rosamund Pike, Gone Girl) slipped in (think Disney Pixar's Up (2009). Pike herself was at her most charming role too; this is more of her character than of the psychopath Amy Dunne. Yet sublime on both. Spontaneous, cohesive, and the attention to detail complementary to the unexpected turn of events in each of his next stop, as a viewer, Russovoir had the beginning of happiness, and later still have it.

Hector and the Search for Happiness is a surprise success. Unsung, even. Factors affecting this is primarily because simply, it's Simon Pegg. He's known for his works Shaun of the Dead (2004), Hot Fuzz (2007), Paul (2011), the recent The World's End (2013), to name a few. He's the funny guy. How could he possibly make us feel any other emotion than laughter? It's a question that still courses through Russovoir's veins, happy hormones streaming parallel, injected with the thought that this Steve Carell-esque transition is medicine in enumerative doses, healing the viewer as much as it has for Hector.

Interstellar: Houston, We Have A Problem.

This is probably one of a handful times Russovoir is going to come forward from the line and admits he felt Interstellar was like a comet. We are told it could make wishes come true, and never did.

Russovoir is not pretentious. He's not going to like something because the world likes it. Conversely, he's not going to dislike something because the world does. Especially movies. His mind works on its own in that department (The Twilight Saga is a trailblazer, for example).

Memento (2000). The Prestige (2006). Inception (2010). Russovoir calls it the Nolan's Touch. Anything he puts his mind into, it turns gold. Russovoir respects - no, bows down - to his dedication, inclination, and creations. He is a star among many stars in the sky that people look up to; if he were a constellation, Russovoir thought of a perfect pattern unmistakably ascribed (below):

Set of stars to connect, Russovoir will leave that to NASA. It's easy.

You see, Christopher Nolan means the world. The world Russovoir has made for himself and the world Nolan has shown to the world for our entertainment is coexisting in harmony. Seeing this rather unfortunate unrequited relationship we have, this is then actually unsettling to raise an eyebrow for Interstellar. This is not an exegesis even. With which lack of such is because the film prevented it. Now, Russovoir isn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, or shall we say, the brightest star in the evening sky, but he prides himself to work with a film all the time. Humility aside, there isn't one film he didn't immediately understand. And other times, without pretense nor self-pity, the film in question will play over and over in his head, and long after the credits, long after the hike on Magnificent Mile home, before changing to his jammies, he has already understood the majority of it. Majority instead of the entirety for Russovoir reserves the right to make mistakes; after all, a film is open to several interpretations. Interstellar stole this from us.

Selfish. Lazy, and information overload, Nolan had an objective and that is to be self-righteous. Aspiring director Tyler Gotham, a good friend of Russovoir once said, "People think if they don't understand something, it's art." He was at that time referring to Wes Anderson's The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014). Strangely, this young man took the very words Russovoir has been swallowing for fear of being a snob or too critical (although, in his defense and for what its worth, the film has theatrical allure. Russovoir won't be caught dead watching yet another Anderson film in hopefully near future).

Theatrical allure. Visual orgasm. Stunning. Amazing. Visual effects tend to detour us from the heart of cinema. James Cameron's Avatar (2009), it was not only an ultimate display of the patient 10-year long hold off for computer graphic image (CGI) suitability, it also has a concrete, audience-friendly storyline. If your basis of a great film lies solely in visual effects, take your opinion up Uranus.

Nolan is a very smart man. Russovoir wouldn't want him to be anyone else but himself. There is just an element of his recent film that's just too much of himself. First, let's entertain the suspicion that Interstellar is on the same orbit as Alfonso Cuaron's Academy award-winning Gravity (2013). And if he's like any other auteur, Nolan may be on the same orbit but, he's on a different axis. Second, during which the axis has clearly established itself as a novelty, the audience has been exhausted of information. Three long hours of information with which we, or not to sound accusatory, personally Russovoir couldn't work with (nor around). And had there been information still processing - Russovoir refused to give up on its storyline - new information, obscure information comes up, as though we're astronomers, quantum physicists, space theorists, or even Sheldon Cooper apprentices, who could naturally work one's way through. The film failed to capture the audience. Audience comprising of men and women of 9-to-5 working day. If Nolan's initial goal is to a different audience than mentioned, well, Russovoir would be more than happy to be corrected. Though so much marketing has been done, and what distinguishes a dress is the designer, the venerated director preceding the film, Interstellar has had, and has been having, attention like sightings of a UFO, always curious, and yet overhyped.

There is, of course, sensibility felt for the single father (Matthew McConaughey) to his children, husband to a cancer-ridden wife. But imagine this. The exchange of communication between ground control (film) to a group of astronauts (audience) is doing fine (2/3 of the narrative), until an interference. We're simply picking up unfamiliar reception, unfamiliar information arduously (still) processing in our overwrought minds. The irony of it is that what seemed to be information overload is information withheld. Russovoir took the fair chance to ask his friends whose Facebook posts implied they understood the film. While they speak enthusiastically of it, it is of Russovoir's inherent propensity to not buy it. There seems to be a kind of enigmatic credulity in science fiction films recently; we thought Johnny Depp's Transcendence (2014) was the last of them.

This is a long review, a passionate review if he can say so himself. Both polemic and panegyric. The former at its mildest because Russovoir will have to turn gold for Nolan's next touch. Nolandary.

The 25 Classic Filipino Films.

There's this chain posting and tagging going on Facebook lately, and it's about movies! If there's anything Russovoir has been all over, and will be over for a very long time, it's going to have to be movies. Curious about the '15 Movies That Will Always Stay With You' from selected people of valued space and attention, from which raises the question how does one become valuable, on which definitely he goes for content and character and much less on unnecessary, 'obligatory' (how does it even become obligatory?) selfies and overpublicized lifestyle, on his NewsFeed, Russovoir observed two (2) peculiarities.

Before anything else, there attached 'rules' with this chain. The rules: Don't take too long to think about it. Fifteen films you've seen that will always stick with you. List the first fifteen you can recall in no more than fifteen minutes. Now, films that will 'always stay with you' is not and must not simply be like picking flowers at the park. Films that will always stay with you, one should uproot the flowers from its clingy source. Films that will always stay with you will have to need more than fifteen minutes. Otherwise, pressured by a subconscious ticking clock, a number of people's films go so recent Russovoir wonders if they really 'always stayed' with them or were the ones that first came to mind, as though films is a game of Boggle. 

That's one. Two, Russovoir noticed his Filipino friends' films that always stayed with them are foreign films. See, he gets it. There aren't many Filipino films that have been recently made that could possibly come into mind in fifteen minutes, let alone those which have stayed. So fuck the rules. It simply doesn't make sense. If you're a Filipino and there's not one Filipino classic film in the 15 Movies That Will Always Stay With You, I'd think either 1) you're pretentious 2) you're a square, or 3) - less scornful and more helpful now - that you need a little reminding. Categorized in genres, here are the 25 Classic Filipino Films that once electrified Filipino blood. 

Comedy

25. Oki Doki Doc (1996) - Aga Muhlach

 

24. Milyonaryong Mini (1996) - Ogie Alcasid, John Estrada

23. Biyudo Si Daddy, Biyuda Si Mommy (1997) - Vic Sotto

22. Haba Baba Doo! Puti Puti Poo! (1998) - Redford White, Babalu

21. Tik Tak Toys May Kolokotoys (1999) - Serena Dalrymple

20. Home Along Da Riles: The Movie (1993) - Dolphy, Nova Villa

19. Ang Tanging Ina (2003) - Ai Ai De las Alas, Eugene Domingo

Comedy Central:

Crying Ladies (2003)
Annie B. (2004)

Horror

18. Shake, Rattle, and Roll I, II, III, IV

17. Tiyanak (1988) - Janice De Belen

16. Aswang (1992) - Alma Moreno

15. Multo In The City (1994) - Aiko Melendez, Jacklyn Jose

14. Magandang Hatinggabi (1998) - Marvin Agustin

13. Sa Piling Ng Aswang (1999) - Gina Alajar

12. Feng Shui (2004) - Kris Aquino

Romance

11. Flames: The Movie (1997)

    Paano Ang Puso Ko? (1997)

    Dahil Mahal Na Mahal Kita (1998)

    Kay Tagal Kang Hinintay (1998)

Rico Yan

10. Kung Ayaw Mo, Wag Mo (1998)

    Labs Kita... Okey Ka Lang? (1998)

    Hey Babe (1999)

    Kung Ikaw Ay Isang Panaginip (2000)
    Tunay Na Tunay: Gets Mo? Gets Ko! (2000) - (no picture)

Jolina Magdangal

 9. Got 2 Believe (2002) - Claudine Barretto*

*Barretto is Philippines' TV Queen so obviously an exception has to be made. Her finest romance performances are:

9.1 Mula Sa Puso (1997)

9.2 Saan Ka Man Naroon (1999)

9.3 Sa Dulo Ng Walang Hanggan (2001)
9.4 Marina (2004)

8. Muling Ibalik Ang Tamis Ng Pag-ibig (1998) - Judy Ann Santos*

   Isusumbong Kita Sa Tatay Ko (1999)
   Kasal, Kasali, Kasalo (2006)
   

*A Queen always have to have a sister, not necessarily an evil one. Santos is an icon of classic Filipino courtship. Her finest TV performances are:

8.1 Mara Clara (1992)

8.2 Gimik (1996)

8.3 Esperanza (1997)

Disclaimer: The Jericho Rosales + Kristine Hermosa didn't cut it.

Fantasy/Drama 

Batang X (1995)

(L-R) 1991, 1998, 1999

Mulawin: The Movie (2005)

Little 7's:
Blusang Itim (1986)
Valentina (1990)
Computer Kombat (1997)
Kokey (1997)
Yamashita: The Tiger's Treasure (2001)

Magic Kingdom (1997)

Sarah: Ang Munting Prinsesa (1995)

Muro-ami (1999)

Coming-Of-Age a.k.a The Patrick Garcia Age

(L-R) 1996, 1997, 2002

Ang TV Movie: The Adarna Adventure (1997)

6. Trip (2001) - John Pratts, Heart Evangelista

Drama

 5. Kapag May Katwiran, Ipaglaban Mo!: The Movie (1995)

4. May Nagmamahal Sa Iyo (1996) - Lorna Tolentino, Stefano Mori

3. Bata Bata, Pa'no Ka Ginawa? (1998) - Vilma Santos, Carlo Aquino

Drama Studio Presents:

Madrasta (1996)

Tanging Yaman (2000)

Mila (2001)

Mga Munting Tinig (2002)

Dekada '70 (2002)

Mano Po (2002, 2003)

2. Magnifico (2003) - Jiro Manio, Isabella De Leon

1. Anak (2000) - All Time Favorite - Vilma Santos, Claudine Barretto

Trivia: Anak was submitted for the 73rd Academy Awards for Best Foreign Language Film. Unfortunately, it had had no nominations.

DID RUSSOVOIR MISS ANYTHING? COMMENT.

Remember Me, I'm Robert Pattinson.

And not simply 'that Edward Cullen guy'.

You have no idea what inextinguishable pleasure it, you could say, infected to Russovoir from The Rover for Robert Pattinson. He completely went for the neck, sank his teeth, and from there, it's a waiting game on how far and how much he's capable of keeping you in his grip. The fact that there was more blood to the eyes than to the rest of the body was a clever - of whose blame, really: the actor or the audience? - ploy. Speechless, immobile, but unrelenting rapport for this fresh character, unseen of to the population of Forks, Washington, portrayed by Pattinson; the twilight of a typecast.

The story is simple, without frills, no back story; open-ended, one could say. There was no support to build on from, either the characters and setting; which left one feeling lost (until it gets to the ending, guaranteed). So it dragged on for a while, Russovoir admits. Accent so heavy and deliberate that what the film did instead is disusing one's sense of hearing* to draw focus on one's eyes interplaying between one's feelings. The result is disusage of one's ability to speak. The Rover is without a doubt a Robert Pattinson film. Like a wooden stake into a sleeping vampire, he nailed it.

"Why did you leave me out there? I'm your brother!"

*sparingly

Like two sharp fangs, Remember Me (2010) and this, The Rover, we're not looking at a vampire, no, he's way behind that stage in his career. What we're now looking at is a hound. A Hound in Hollywood. 

The Fault In Our Stars, Starry-eyed from Tears.

Wow, it's been a while, no, in fact, a decade, since our last teenage romantic story told. While Nicholas Sparks' film adaptations have had persistently tried to sustain his classic streak, A Walk to Remember (2002) and The Notebook (2004) exclusively, the subsequent adapted screenplays fell short, personally and mainly due to miscasting, The Last Song (2010) and The Lucky One (2012) curtly (with the exception of Dear John (2010) which was appropriately celebrated).

The grass is indeed greener on the other side, John Green is the morning dew to our eyes. The Fault In Our Stars felt fresh; and like anything fresh, it isn't contaminated with schmaltz nor the tandem outshone the other. Neither the leading actors were seen hugging the camera because they're beautiful people. This, too, was accounted for by the weight of the story. Although while Russovoir thinks it's easy to sympathize with these kinds of film genres, the genre of illness/death as the chord that snaps us (My Sister's Keeper (2009), Letters to God (2010), and from which the reality of things that we do sympathize for the ill and/or dying - that's what makes us human, there are elements in the film that, if one could connect them, one could say is a constellation of beauty.

"Gus, I'm a grenade."

All begins at point 1, dialogue. Okay? Okay; Pain demands to be felt; You gave me a forever within the numbered days. You know how far will these go? "After all this time? Always." That far (if you could name the film it came from, Russovoir has made his point). It's all about that one attributable word, line, phrase, sentence imparted that lingers and later engraved to the audience. "I miss you so much, it hurts." You should already know this. Point 2, chemistry. It should be obvious in a romantic genre and yet some had had no reaction. Shailene Woodley was a perfect cast, both standing alone and alongside another perfect love interest Ansel Elgort (shitty last name, by the way). The exchange of expressions were never stilted nor deficient; it was, deafeningly, ineffable. That which, critically, all points lead to a vertex, point 3, rapport. Unbroken to their chemistry, however the story will unfold. Point 4, the relativity of perceptive teenage romance, as opposed to solely reactive. You do not (just) fall in love with the idea of love, which commonly kicks in quick. Perceptive romance is written lyrically, and often tragically, to complicate it. Only when something basic but complicated that we value it. In the words of James Morrison, "If it was easy, it wouldn't mean nothing though." (Love Is Hard). And finally, point 5. Perceptive romance is especially effective because points 1, 2, 3, and 4 are visible beyond the naked eye. Point 5 is, ultimately, the lucrative story weight. 

All of this was carefully planned (okay, so maybe halfway, as we already are in the subject of perceptive) five points mean five stars. If we scatter them astronomically precise as to when it was first located and connected them, we've got ourselves a Cancer (google it).

Now Serving: The Lunchbox.

Is this the film that will actually supersede Slumdog Millionaire (2008)?, the moot during which time was long far from the film itself than only, rashly inadequately its trailer. The Lunchbox, at normally and teasingly brief preview, and from where Russovoir chanced once as opposed to tenuous trailers he has had seen aplenty, had been contently enough and not a moment had passed since that it was on Russovoir's presiding better judgement, on bizarre occasions, hungry. 

Burdensome, in vain anticipation of what was supposedly on the 28th of February film premiere, Russovoir consoled with the thought that it had now become a St. Patrick's Day special; while people are filing, piling outside pubs with their outrageous ensembles with the color green (a historical inaccuracy, presumably), Russovoir toils to the one and only movie house in the stupor of vast Chicago for this independent film. After which he couldn't walk in a straight line.

Allegory. The Lunchbox packs it. There is beauty, not particular of the visual than of the ritual; charming, delicate, raw; unadorned with anything but a sustainable, mysterious, possibly scandalous story.

"My husband is having an affair but I don't have the courage to tell him."

And yes, the film does make one hungry. Director and screenwriter Ritesh Batra took it upon himself, and influentially because he's a local, to showcase a number of if not popular, accustomed dishes of the Indian palette. No preservatives were added, so to speak, instead was fresh in presenting modern-day India (daunting to those who haven't had been). Sure, India is filthy, grossly populous, and antiquated, but the road to fine cinema is paved with Indian silk; this film in an overly crowded, sweltering train, as well as richness in culture and flavorful, bold, insatiable, craveable recipe of quality story writing; anywhere the train goes, Russovoir aboards.   

Why Leonardo DiCaprio Could Wait.

This blog is much more in depth than why Leonardo Dicaprio could wait, though we're going there later somewhere in paragraph unsure. Russovoir just thought it'd catch your attention where at this point, he's got you, old sport. What are you doing? Don't leave yet. Rose even had had the decency to hold on to Jack for a blistering hour before she let him go. Stay for a while, listen to what Russovoir has to say. He guarantees you it's a blood diamond of an opinion.

Cinema is one of the most powerful mediums of communication. As much as Russovoir would like to quote that to himself, surely it hadn't had taken long for anyone who's been in the industry when the immortality of Hollywood is because they excel in it (what he would rather want instead is you think of Russovoir whenever after a movie you're stricken by it). Cinema can inspire a generation by recollecting historical events; such films inflate in us an air of altruism that make us better people, at least in thought, somehow beneficial in due time. Or maybe even remaining in thought for good, but still, most, you're better than were before. Cinema can influence the decisions one had made by conditioning the present, somehow rewriting the future, pen at an optimistic curve. It entertains, it distracts, it's a tool to exercise emotions unused or untapped, somehow draining us because life will have to fill us up with unsought emotions, and avoid spilling over, and be controlled by them. And at a much larger scale, the one that siphons immortality to the film industry, is by the blood that runs in each and every one of us, race, color, religion, orientation, cinema draws everyone closer as one, of the vulnerable need to be seen, heard, feel, know, learn, adapt, unite, mankind.

The same mankind, at least the musically-inclined or the pop culturist, was in tune to the annual orchestration now at their 56th, Grammy Awards. The music industry is not essentially Russovoir's cup of tea. Well, he takes sips, but it's not something he would go over to the kitchen for for everyone's pleasure. Regardless, if this rusty vinyl record can still play, if you could just blow off the top of dust, the last two Grammy Awards, 2013 and 2012 retrograde, artists who say, scratched the event to sound like a broken record of their own albums; new artists, fresh artists, artists who we never heard before, nor we entirely agree are totally 'music to our ears', but were given due recognition. That's what the Grammy's all about, a fertile platform where anyone who gets music and constantly innovating; vocals high up, vocals way down, above the drone and static, keeping the music industry alive as though on a heart monitor.

Mumford and Sons, 2013 Album of the Year.

Like a tuning fork, the very much alive point system of the Grammys resonates to the Academy with, if not synchronized at least persistent and consistent, under any circumstances outside vibrations will try to intercept the echo they have been trying (and have succeeded) to send.

Why don't you take a break and stretch? 

Come back when you see fit to finish.

You're back. Good. Russovoir made some tea. Because we're finally at his cup of tea, the Academy Awards. The 2013 Academy Awards, still olfactory of mint judgement, has been ambivalent with the public; it's so tawdry, so pretentious - have they no heart for the starving children in Africa? The echo is simple: recognize talent. All else are perks, the jewels to a crown; without them, it's still a crown. They will still have talent over their heads, like a halo had it not been emitting (glaring) luster. The Academy, be they maybe mainstream or independent, is a kingdom that runs by democracy. Although while the final decision(s) is/are determined by the kings and queens of such kingdom, the essential note that we, the people, have had (a) film/s we're rooting for can tell about ourselves, where we stand and believe in the powerful means of communication. This generation and the next.

Ben Affleck's Argo, Quentin Tarantino's Django Unchained, Ang Lee's Life of Pi, these 2013 box office-grossing films sent shockwaves to the world (a little dramatic there but remember, mankind) where as though they were on a three-player game of who has had the last grip. Although while the other six (6) nominees have a unique echo, Beasts of the Southern Wild coming in bold and brave, with which no notable actors nor retaining value, Zero Dark Thirty on terrorism-free America, Lincoln, from which Daniel Day-Lewis won Best Actor as Abraham Lincoln, a figure of historical reform, these three films spat saliva on Oscar and rubbed a reflection of, by, and for the people.

Actor/Director Ben Affleck wins 2013 Best Picture, Argo.

Original screenplay, clean (both clarity and morality) storyline, and cutting-edge cinematography, that's the reflection, at least for Russovoir, looking back at us from our TV screens; the criteria, the winning combination to be knighted (including a nomination) by the Academy. Quentin Tarantino, screen writer and director of Django Unchained - the D is silent - flicked the tuning fork with compassion, "It's our time, screen writers!"; Director Ang Lee couldn't have thanked enough for the people behind the vibrant special effects of Life of Pi. Not to mention the goodness of its storyline; and Ben Affleck, oh this man, it was such an emotional moment for the tenacious director, has had wished a night of recognition for his daredevil efforts. That's what the Academy's all about.

Are you still working on your tea?

Do you want a second pour?

Bearing all of this in mind, just until the last period of this blood diamond has been dotted, as the nine (9) outstanding nominees for Best Picture are below for your convenience, and perhaps a movies must-watch list in countdown to the most prestigious night of the film industry, whichever film you root for says about you, that echoes, almost uncontrollably to the impressionable, inquisitive generation.

Surely bribery, notoriety, and an exhausting reminder of slavery and marginalization aren't the precepts we're imparting to our children's children; that we promote such behavior and perception. Although while as far as performance goes, these films are a prime of each and everyone in them - DiCaprio as one. But you see now, he could wait (moreover, this is the part where Russovoir redacts and specifies that Best Actor in a Leading Role for The Wolf of Wall Street could be his, among many leading roles that would've had been).

If the Academy is anything like the Grammys, which Russovoir still believes so, original screenplay (Gravity, Her) already should have had made extra brownie points. That Hollywood, the film industry is only as sustainable as how ingenuity introduces a curious way to an appended, vigorous pulse (refer to the tuning fork analogy); a church whose homily indoctrinates bravery, resilience, fortitude, and compassion, and awareness of people's extraordinary lives (Captain Phillips, Philomena, Dallas Buyers Club). Each and every emotion that fills up in us inspiration and goodness that hadn't had been there before. A school, hence called Academy, where GMRC (Good Moral and Right Conduct) is what the students (directors, screenwriters, actors) ultimately strive for. It never was about the money, thankfully, nor popularity, or it would've had been a stigma if Avengers (2012), highest-grossing film of all time of $1.5B, won Best Picture. Madness.

Movie Recommendation Time: Geography Club.

Geography Club, at first, one would realize, wow that's funnily curious, it's almost an affected, nostalgic, liking reference to The Breakfast Club (1985). They must've done it on purpose because while the posters (below) are two pancakes in a teflon pan, it's an effective eye catcher. The Breakfast Club is arguably the long-standing timeless classic about high school cliques (funny how that transcends to our very own lives); the discovery of self; the boldness, burden, and blithe of being different; and the opaqueness of which that when crossed creates tension that begins the story.

  

Geography Club at first impression was thought to be the same. Russovoir had never been wrong. Granted the synopsis (where was its trailer?) alludes a purging self-to-self conflict prevalent, oppressing, and pressing issue of recent times, just like how each of the kids in The Breakfast Club then had their own fetters, the film has five (5) personalities alright, but it revolves in one theme. 

"Hey, no one's judging you."

Russovoir won't be that guy telling you its theme; he's never had and never will. What he can tell you is Geography Club adapted itself in hopes of idealizing the society on hand; a society, if not for films like this, deteriorating and prejudiced encroaching. This is Disney's Lemonade Mouth (2011) but there isn't a group of musically-inclined troublemakers, lemonade-in-a-canholics forming a band; however, what the film is trying to accomplish is to tone down what was for a long time loud. Especially every last week of June with this pride.

Heroes. He Rose. Heal rows.

That feeling. That feeling that you inexplicably and suddenly had had the civilian responsibility, on which you're convinced that if you hadn't done so who would, in this brief moment, spur of the moment of looking out for each other; we can be heroes in our own little ways after all - "Is that tub of popcorn trash? Let me get that for you."

You do this because what you have witnessed, the true story of four (4) US Navy SEALs, including those who tried to rescue them, brings to the front and center the nature, crucial nature of what and who to protect, that is ideally everyone, whatever color and racial origin. The little gesture is a thank you to those whom we can still do this.

"Suck. It. Up. You're a fucking frogman!"

Lone Survivor is one of the many films that raises the flag of America in us; land of the free and home of the brave. Truly powerful, awing words in the national anthem indelible and imponderable (that which you needn't to be in the military, to have to go to war to be deemed 'brave'; hence bravery is imponderable). Besides the point, however, those who have served the country and are serving the country could've might as well ensnared an American eagle, plucked one of its majestic plumage, dipped it into their own self-induced slit arm, and finally have, although while painful it too is an act of sheer commitment, written the Star-Spangled Banner onto a surface with their own blood.

"If I die, tell my wife I love her."

Emotions were a minefield: one for Hirsch, one for Kitsch, Foster (above), Bana, and Ludwig. Each is uniquely designed to explode with a unique repercussion in both the mind and body, and ultimately the soul. And they didn't go off in one succession either, no sir. Russovoir had wished it had been the case, to save chronic fit of vicarious suffering; so it would've been just a big, isolated pain. It was, however, as uniquely designed each is, specially a physical strain, incremental at a sporadic. US Navy SEAL Marcus Luttrell, the last man standing - lone survivor, as if the whole operation had had been a Hunger Games for the purpose of full disclosure should one decides to join, sure he and his men failed Operation Red Wings, not that it wasn't a big deal nor we wanted it to happen, but it happened, and the silver lining here is, and Russovoir shamefully admits it was once a shot in the dark, funny how God finally casts a light on this matter through one man's tale, that not all of Afghanistan is barren.

Marcus Luttrell and Mohammed Gulab. Pashtunwali.

  

iTouchment With a OSmeone.

One minute there's connection, another lost it. Dang it, the restarting is the hardest part. Her seems to have made it literally a wireless fidelity (wifi). And just like it, at maybe a cheap motel or an overcrowded Starbucks during which everyone conveniently has their laptops running, the wifi of the plot is a patient progress.

"It's as if you needed oxygen. You're an operating system."

As the audience, much like a man with a purpose with a laptop at a wifi hotspot, you stay because it is at least working; it takes an effect on you than nothing at all. Suppose one is used to have a faster broadband that where one is, what one is experiencing is simply, weird. Because the film was, undeniably and, frankly, for it fell off the cliff where the box was situated - that's how 'outside-the-box' it is, ridiculous. Stay with Russovoir, it gets better.

"I love how you see the world."

Novelty. That's what and why Her is as undeniably, a stunner. As if painstaking in costume design and production value; the deviant, soothing color fusion to where should be a futuristic setting, of supposedly delicate white and chrome. Where we have been daunted by past futuristic films of the downside, the harm of technological advancement: Terminator (1984), I, Robot (2004), Surrogates (2009); the dystopic condition much of which was caused by moral deterioration and neglect: The Island (2005), In Time (2011),  Elysium (2013); and the overused alien/virus invasion: I Am Legend (2007), The Darkest Hour (2011), Battleship (2012), the premise of Spike Jonze, director and the writer of Her, was definitely a pleasant relief and comfort.

And of course, moreover, Joaquin Phoenix (above) with his patriarchal mustache and sensitive, melancholic psyche as Theodore Twombly, where even the name is soft and cuddly, was what was imperious in Gladiator (2007) accentuated by his 'battle scar' cleft lip, made over a king, disrobed of self-regard and ambition, many instances in the film has Russovoir's thumbs up. No shiny crown, rather leaves one a tiny frown.