The Consequences of Fighting the Power

Although all the characters in Do the Right Thing had their fair share of influence, Radio Raheem stands out the most in my opinion. He rocks his own neighborhood's t-shirt. He lets Public Enemy do the talking for him. And that boom box...when a ghetto blaster is the catalyst for a race riot, that tends to signify an unprecedented force. Yet, despite all his badass persona, Radio Raheem also represents hypocracy at its finest.
Take, for instance, his Love vs. Hate speech:

Let me tell you the story of "Right Hand, Left Hand." It's a tale of good and evil. Hate: It was with this hand that Cane iced his brother. Love: These five fingers, they go straight to the soul of man. The right hand: the hand of love. The story of life is this: Static. One hand is always fighting the other hand; and the left hand is kicking much ass. I mean, it looks like the right hand, Love, is finished. But, hold on, stop the presses, the right hand is coming back. Yeah, he got the left hand on the ropes, now, that's right. Ooh, it's the devastating right and Hate is hurt, he's down. Left-Hand Hate K.O.ed by Love.

Irony ensues. This has probably got to be my favorite soliloquy in a movie to date, but it also raises an interesting question. How can Radio Raheem preach love but express dislike and prejudice against different races? The fact that he fights racism with racism is too bizarre to even begin to justify. In order to fight the power (in hopes of restoring a balance) you have to fight. Consequently, more hatred is created and the effort becomes very cyclical and very unproductive.
Even Radio Raheem's death is an unfortunate result of the race crusade.
Total understanding will never exist (except for inside an idealist's mind), just like racism will always exist. However, there needs to be some kind of a reform and a general movement towards tolerance if we expect any hope for mankind.

On a lighter note, here's a Sesame Street remix of Do the Right Thing. Enjoy.

The Battle of Algiers

Pontecorvo's The Battle of Algiers is by no means an extraordinarily revolutionary film stylistically. Sure, it has a documentary-esque feel to express realism and puts the viewer in the action of the scene, but that had been done before with Battleship Potemkin (the one with the baby carriage falling down the stairs). And yes, the score was done by Ennio Morricone, a badass composer. But why is this movie part of the Criterion Collection? Why is there all this hubbub about a foreign, black-and-white, no-gore-no-sex, unprofessional-acting film? It's all about the timelessness, baby.

Peter Rainer of the New York Times Magazine writes:

"What reveals Pontecorvo as an artist, and not simply a propagandist of genius,
is the sorrow he tries to stifle but that comes flooding through anyway—the
sense that all sides in this conflict have lost their souls, and that all men
are carrion."

It is clear that Pontecorvo's purposes were not to side with either the French or the Algerians, but in doing so, he demonstrated that both sides were at fault, and both sides represent the innate self-preservation of man. The fact that this is a fundamental problem allows for many generations to see a piece of themselves in the film. For instance, it be applied as a reflection of the decline of European imperialism and how perhaps colonization and occupation may not be the best solution (cough cough ahem). It has been deemed an allegory for the Vietnam War. Both the Black Panthers AND the Pentagon have screened it for training purposes. The film truly does transcend the apparent differences in people and the eras they live in. And that, consequently, defines an unparalleled artistry.

In Need for a Holiday Pie/Neo-Noir Idea??

Look no further! For a limited time only, take home your very own Chinatown character Noah Cross PIE (chart)! Screenwriter Robert Towne really cooked up a doozy with this one, folks. I don't think there has ever been this complete of a villain since Jafar, and that's saying something. So while you gather around to celebrate [insert holiday here], take a moment to step back and appreciate the fact that even the most obnoxious and ornery of grandparents or second-uncles once removed do not even come NEARLY as close as Sir Cross did. Although it is unsettling to know that this human manifestation of cruel intentions was able to escape the clutches of the United States justice system, it is a comfort to know that he is probably going to get just as much (if not more) coming right back at him. Maybe not in this life, but definitely in his lives to come.
So please, this holiday season, deck the halls, bring us some figgy pudding and spin that dradle because someone, somewhere is wishing that their grandfather/dad wasn't such a creep.

Witty Title Concerning Kiss Me Deadly

Kiss me deadly, schmish me deadly.

I'm sorry but if that movie was supposed to be an allegory to ANY aspect of human nature, I am sad for humans. Frankly, I find it hard to reach a deeper conclusion from the film. How about instead of interpreting every little potential allusion, metaphor, symbol, stylistic choice a movie offers, we just take it at face value. I'm sure the director did certain things to achieve a certain mood or theme, but what if we eliminate the director? What if we just watch the movie and let bygones be bygones? It would just be a really raw, violent movie with hints of nuclear waste, a heavily-panting woman and a machisimo protagonist with a machisimo first name. Mike Hammer? Come on, that name is just begging to be paired with a punch in the face or a smooch with a girl. He happens to be the most engaging part of the film; the only one I could remotely understand, even if it wasn't much. The plot probably was not supposed to be the strong point of the film, but a little continuity would not hurt. I still don't know what the conflict was supposed to be. I think the director just wanted to base a story off of an awkwardly moaning woman... even if it was based on a novel....ummm.... yeah.

I realize that if all movies (or any works of art in that case) were met with cynicism, their intended purposes would die upon contact with the scrutiny. I just felt like being a cynic tonight.

Who am I kidding? Hands down the greatest movie I've ever seen.

Película Negra

Film noir is the cinematographic expression of disillusionment during the post-WWII era.

Out of the Past (1947) arrived only two years after the war ended, adding to the list of film noirs that offered a sort of escapism to postwar America, the way Hemingway and Steinbeck did with novels. Both mediums depict alienated or dissatisfied characters in realistic settings, however film took the viewers to a different level by offering a visual interpretation to the masses. People could live vicariously through film noir characters. Women could embody the femme fatale persona to escape the routine of their life. Men could envision themselves as razor-sharp protagonists who fell victim to temptation. No matter what their reasoning, people turned to these films to explain the crookedness of their own worlds. The movies offered a cynical view of human nature, which was already being experienced during that time period. The differences was that film noir allowed the menace of man to exist without actually causing harm to anyone.

In a way, the Second World War era has become a kind of film noir in itself. History acts as the protagonist who is damned by fate. Its past (Holocaust, Nazism, total war etc.) tries to be forgotten but comes back to haunt the present (Israeli-Palestinian conflict, dictator uprisings across the globe etc.). The power-corrupt axis leaders represent the crooks, and the tangled and shifting alliances embody the manipulative, double-crossing femme fatale character. Whether that analogy is a stretch or not, the aftermath of such a devastating war was answered by authors and filmmakers alike to help cope with the dejected society of the post WWII world.

e.t.e.r.n.a.l.s.u.n.s.h.i.n.e.o.f.t.h.e.s.p.o.t.l.e.s.s.m.i.n.d.

Ignorance is bliss. A controversial cliché that happens to be completely applicable to the events in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. The characters who seek memory erasure in the movie, Clementine, Joel and Mary, could be considered blissful until elements of their past lives are reintroduced indirectly. For Clementine it was Patrick stealing Joel's memories to try and recreate a bountiful relationship. The only way Joel could ever cope with the realization that Clementine erased him from his memory was to reciprocate the procedure and essentially become ignorant of their past relationship. For Mary, her shot at blissful ignorance was disrupted by her innate and inerasable connection to Dr. Mierzwiak. Even the title happens to side with the fact that ignorance, or an erased memory, can provide bliss, or in this case, sunshine. The titular reference comes from the Alexander Pope poem, "Eloisa to Abelard".

How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!/The world forgetting, by the world
forgot./Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!

The lines address the potential, yet unattainable, concept of a cluelessly content society. This is disproved through the reconnections of Clementine and Joel. Despite the fact that they knew each other unbeknownst to the other, there was still tension and this sort of deja vu effect.The movie also alluded to existentialist Fredrich Nietzsche's Beyond Good and Evil when Mary quotes, "Blessed are the forgetful: for they get the better even of their blunders." This is very much in favor of how easy for forgetful have it than those who have to own up to their memories.

The movie supports the ideal nature of blissful ignorance but shows that there can be no pure instance of it in real life.

Diabetes! I ought to know better than to hire anyone with a disease.

Escaping convicts! Counterfeit money! Guns! Devious ex-husbands! Fast paced dialogue!
It's not the latest action flick of the season people. It's the 1940 screwball comedy His Girl Friday!
Although this movie could be labeled a love story, it is not your typical guy-meets-girl-guy-falls-in-love-with-girl-the-feeling-is-mutual-the-end. The concept of love in His Girl Friday is not necessarily a romantic love. Love is portrayed more as a discovery of passion, in the case of Hildy Johnson, a rediscovery of passion. Instead of falling victim to the archetypal woman's role during that time period, the circumstances of the film allowed her to realize her place in the press. Cary Grant's character, Walter Burns, could be considered romantically in love with Hildy, but it is almost as if he is in love with chasing her and winning her over. Walter's passion derives from wanting to always get his way, a self-sufficient kind of love.
But no matter how hard you try to break down a person's reasoning for pursuing a partner, it all leads back to the most fundamental biological necessity.
Procreation.
So go ahead. Throw around your fancy explanations of the romantic psyche and analyze behavior until you reach that inevitable cycling effect. All of those details merely accessorize the fact that humans, nay, all living things, have an innate responsibility to further their species.
So the next time you're sitting dutifully at another "love" movie, popcorn in hand, eyes fixated on the screen, ask yourself, what are these guys really trying to achieve here? To the untrained eye, their paths may not seem to lead to reproduction for biology's sake. But sooner or later, all stories' paths diverge at the central checkpoint that is copulation.

Clint Eastwood? More like Clint WESTERNwood!

1992 was an eventful year. I turned three years old. Aladdin was the top grossing movie at the box-office. David Bowie married Iman. George H.W. Bush puked in Prime Minister of Japan Kiichi Miyazawa's lap. The Rodney King trial results in riots across Los Angeles. Unforgiven won Best Picture at the Academy Awards.

I'll be totally honest... in retrospect, all I was concerned about back then was Aladdin.

However, upon watching a 1992 milestone, Unforgiven, certain ideas have been confirmed:

ONE. Revisionist westerns deserve some lovin'.

TWO. Another instance of heroic whores: Prostitutes' heroism can come from their willingness to help out a fellow whore, even if it does entail putting a price on the offender's head.

THREE. Morgan Freeman is so awesome.

This post is supposed to be about Unforgiven, but I would like to take this opportunity to wax idiotic on behalf of Mr. Freeman. He's in the movie, so technically... it counts.

If I could spend one day with any live person, Morgan Freeman would easily be my top choice. Everything from his salt-and-pepper kinky hair, to his boyish freckles sprinkled across his face radiate warmth and genuineness. He has tackled interesting roles and has proved to be a very versatile actor, earning him nominations and an Academy Award. But his most outstanding feature has got to be his voice. Freeman's soothing baritone mixed with a slight southern drawl is just plain relaxing. There is a power in his voice that is instantly recognized and improbably forgotten. I bet you can think of what his voice sounds like right now.

If not, here's a refresher. (From Deep Impact)

In his role as Ned, Freeman delivered the appropriate amount of compassion and restraint to the character. Anything more brash or confrontational would have completely changed the regretful, simplistic tone Ned needs to have at that point in his life. Basically, the man is sweet. You gotta love him.

Cidade de Deus

Making a multi-faceted movie is not easy and almost never done. In the case of Fernando Meirelles's City of God, multi-faceted is its middle name. Thematically, it crosses many genres; coming of age, drug, thriller, social scrutinizing. It is almost impossible to label precisely. City of God is namely a story of the narrator, Rocket, an inhabitant of a favela (kind of like a Brazilian shanty town), which happens to also be the titular reference, City of God (or Cidade de Deus in Portuguese). He is very much exposed to drugs and violence and corruption, but he avoids getting mixed up in the gangs by exploring his passion: photography. Interestingly enough, the photography of the film has been praised and was nominated for Best Cinematography at the 2002 Academy Awards, along with three other nominations.

It should have won Best Cinematography. Fricken Lord of the Rings.

The neo-realistic vision set forth by the director of photography, César Charlone, is not necessarily revolutionary, but definitely effective. DISCLAIMER: Unfortunately there are no special commentaries or behind the scenes on the DVD or any reliable websites, so this post is purely based on observations, which are limited due to my being a human and everything.
Right from the beginning, the camera acts as another character in the movie, offering insight that would not necessarily be emphasized. A gritty, raw filter is used to accentuate the dismal city. The general mood is pessimistic, heartbreaking. Children are shooting children. Friends are dying over feuds whose beginnings have been lost. Power is mistaken for love. Most of the scenes are filmed with a Steadicam, but the real gems are the handheld scenes. Most notably was the use during a death shot – imitating the position and movements of someone being shot, then eventually fading out, as if eyes were closing. Although this technique has been used before, the integration of the camera as a character with a classically defined “point of view” breaks up the monotony of just tracking or just panning. The shots reflected an unadulterated portrayal of the violence experiences of the particular area, but the amount of violent acts shown were appropriate and not overdone, which could have easily been abused.
Meirelles wanted to keep the energy and general atmosphere of the ghettos so he hired all natives as actors in the movie, with the exception of Matheus Nachtergaele. The combination of authentic Brazilian citizens and altruistic shots of Brazilian slums made the movie just plain interesting. Thankfully, Charlone and Meirelles’s skillful range and appreciation for the storyline made the movie worthy of artistic praise, as well as thematic acclaim.

Charlone will be directing photography for the upcoming Blindness, based on the novel by José Saramago. (Kind of nervous about the adaptation, not gonna lie.) Basically, the novel depicts a situation where an entire city undergoes a white blindness epidemic, meaning a piercing white is all people can see. It will be interesting to see what choices he makes with how to convey the blindness, as well as incorporate the sight of the only person who does not get affected by the plague, an ophthamologist's wife (ha). The book also dealt with rape and murder, so I wouldn’t be surprised if there were cinematic essences of City of God repeated in Blindness.

Harlots and Hookers and Women of Ill-Repute... Oh My!

John Ford does not try to hide his characters from the audience in Stagecoach. Lucy Mallory is a southern not-so-belle, Hatfield is a chivalrous, delusional Confederate and Doc Boone is a borderline raging alcoholic. However there is one character whose status is not really revealed, but instead implied: Dallas the prostitute. Now taking the time period and the typical audience of said time period into consideration, I understand that bluntly exposing Dallas's occupation could have resulted in a bit of public outrage. But looking at her character in the movie, I realize a Hollywood trend that transcends any era.
Prostitutes are heroic.
Feel free to snicker and scoff and disagree, but think about it. Pretty Woman, Risky Business, Taxi Driver, Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo. What do these have in common? The streetwalker is who the audience identifies the most with, the one who people sympathize with. This is clearly a manipulation on the part of the screenwriters, but why has there not yet been a movie (at least that I have heard of) that depicts prostitutes in a degrading light?
I think there are 5 main reasons why Hollywood chooses to highlight the life of a hooker:

1. Making the prostitute the protagonist (or at least a central character) allows for a potential sex scene. (Sex sells, duh.)
2. Hookers typically resort to their profession because they fall on hard times. Sadly, this creates an excellent dynamic for a drama.
3. There is still a stigma about prostitutes. Prostitutes = controversial.
Controversial = more press. More press = more audience. More
audience = more ca$h money. More ca$h money = more prostitutes. You get the idea.
4. The whole Pretty Woman Situation (prostitute is hired by a rich man but they fall in love and are consequently torn by their morals and emotions) is so cute. Too bad Gary Marshall totally capitalized on that Cinderella story. That could have been a sub genre right there.
5. You cannot help but think, "Man, I'm glad I'm not in that situation." Witnessing prostitution appeals to our pathos, which is the most basic formula for an engaging narrative.

Dallas totally applies to these principles. Her and Ringo's love is met with
hope and optimism. Her taking care of Lucy's baby is regarded as noble and responsible. Although Stagecoach is recongnized for its innovative
cinematic elements, I like to consider it the grandfather of prostitute movies. So how about a big hand to Claire Trevor in her role as Dallas for paving the way for the Julia Roberts's and Jodie Foster's of our generation.

Let's go to the window!

Citizen Kane. An enigma that has been labeled the greatest American movie ever made. But what makes this movie so gosh-darn entertaining and well-made (relatively speaking)? It could be the engaging narrative, the complex characterization, or Orson Welles's excellent use of deep focus photography. However, the most obvious cinematic, even theatric, element is an aspect of mise-en-scene: lighting.

Welles was able to accentuate character motive by merely lighting a scene effectively. Low-key lighting, as portrayed in the above photo, is probably the director's most immediate choice in depicting the mysterious and unattainable aspects of the movie. One instance of this choice is during the Declaration of Principles scene, when Kane first creates his promise to the public. His face is almost entirely in shadow during the signing of the document, which questions the integrity of the declaration. Light is also a dominant element during a fight between Kane and Susan Alexander. Mixed with a high-angle shot, the low-key lighting greatly emphasizes the superiority of Kane's word over Alexander's will, as well as establish a deeper look into Kane's motives behind his "love" for Susan. Jerry Thompson's character, the reporter researching rosebud, is also defined by deliberate lighting. The audience never gets a satisfying shot of his face, which could imply that we too are "left in the dark" about Kane.

Many components were compiled to create this critically-acclaimed film. Taking each element into consideration individually would not do a piece justice. It is imperative that they be viewed together in synergy to comprehend the artistry behind a movie.

Verti(way to)go

They say it is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all. For John "Scottie" Ferguson, played by an adept James Stuart in Alfred Hitchcock's 1958 Vertigo, it is considerably better to manipulate than to live and let die. Clichés aside, it is evident that the movie is more than Hitchcock's famous twists and turns; it is a representation of desire, and in some ways, unrequited love.

The story is set in early 1950's San Francisco. John Ferguson (Stuart) is an acrophobic (fear of heights), recently-retired detective hired by an old friend to follow the friend's wife, who is apparently suffering from a sort of possession. The reluctant Ferguson eventually gives in and follows Madeline, played by the regal Kim Novak, only to become infatuated with her. As his love grows, so does hers for him, as well as her bizarre situation and their otherwise sympathetic relationship ends in suicide. Scottie is struck with despair and melancholy, which is demonstrated through a mental subjectivity montage, and probably some of the most memorable scenes in the movie. Hitchcock uses flashing green and red lights and a dizzying backdrop with the protagonist’s head floating in an optical illusion to depict the curse Madeline has placed on him. However, almost immediately after his lover’s death, he follows an uncannily similar woman named Judy and manipulates her every appearance in an attempt to recreate his lost love.

The last thirty minutes explain the paradoxical situation that justifies Hitchcock’s righteous place among great directors. Ferguson’s vertigo and fear of heights is met by a passion so great, it destroys all phobias, mentioned or implied (i.e. fear of heights, fear of uncontrolled aspects of life). As the second climax (which also happens to be the denouement) ends, the hope we have for Ferguson ends too.

Although the narrative is the most engaging component of the film, it would not be fair to not mention the excellent use of tonalities, as well as the notable use of sound. The color scheme is instantly recognizable as Hitchcock juxtaposes vivid colors with more drab sequences to draw attention to important scenes and landmarks, such as the Golden Gate Bridge or the wallpaper at Ernie’s, a restaurant several characters visit. Red and green seem to dominate revelations and flashbacks, which give an appropriately chaotic feel at necessary times.

The score, written by Bernard Herman (Citizen Kane, Psycho, Taxi Driver) is as important as the majority of the dialogue during the film. The music pulses and flows with the action, acting almost as another character. It creates and destroys atmosphere in a matter of a few notes, and establishes a large part of the suspense factor, which is an essential part of the film.

This movie could be scrutinized from Kim Novak’s costumes to every pan across Jimmy Stuart’s face, as Hitchcock was very deliberate in all aspects of the film. It is because of his premeditated vision that allows for such recognition of Vertigo in the film world.

Now, a question of etiquette - as I pass, do I give you the ass or the crotch?

Yo yo yo!

Firstly, can anyone name the movie the title of this post is from?? I'm pretty sure most of you have seen it. I hope so at least.
Ok now on to more pressing issues.
In my last post I mentioned a little film by the name of Crash. Unfortunately, David Cronenberg did not direct the 2004 Best Picture version I'm sure everyone is familiar with. Sorry for any confusion. You should still check out Cronenberg's 1996 Crash for a different kind of "mind-fornication" (except change fornication with a synonym starting with the same letter).

ANYWAY.

I saw Eastern Promises this weekend and it actually turned out to be as good as I anticipated. I thought Viggo did a wonderful job (however, he rarely disappoints). I can best describe the impression his character gave me by comparing it to when I watch the scene in Aladdin when Jasmine starts flirting with (and eventually makes out with) Jafar so that Aladdin can grab the lamp. It's really uncomfortable, and you shouldn't be supporting her behavior, but at the same time you can't help but be drawn to the situation because it's so opposite of what's conventional and acceptable.

Maybe that's just me.

Nikolai, Viggo's character, is creepy, but in an accessible way. He does some crazy stuff, but somehow manages to redeem himself, which allows him to stay favorable in the audience's mind.
I don't want to give any more away. But go see it.
Except Ryne, who should definitely follow his gut and see the Bratz movie.

I also had the great fortune to watch Frederico Fellini's 8 1/2 this weekend. Having heard praise from people whose opinion I trust and value, I was afraid of, what I like to call, "over-hypensation". This phenomenon is unavoidable, in fact, I probably demonstrated some tendencies during my Eastern Promises rant.

I'm glad to say I did not experience over-hypensation and was totally down with Fellini's neorealist, albeit archetypal, 1963 classic. (In fact, I feel like Michel Gondry might have gotten some themes for last year's Science of Sleep from this movie.) I was so down with it that I gave into rewatching it with the commentary on, which I almost never do. I watched some key scenes, and boy, am I glad I did, especially learning about the potential background of asa nisi masa, the rosebud of 8 1/2. Fellini is a most interesting director and thanks to Blockbuster Total-Access, La Strada and La Dolce Vita will be arriving at my humble abode any day now.

Bless you Blockbuster Total-Access.

Since I mentioned him in this post and we're going to watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind later this year, I figure this would be approprite. Maybe you guys will appreciate getting a little more familiar with the elusive Michel Gondry.

'Eastern Promises' to be Promising?

My first exposure to Eastern Promises was during the previews for a different movie. I exhibited typical movie-going tendencies by leaning over to the person next to me and whispering, "That looks good." Being quasi-exposed to director David Cronenberg (via Naked Lunch, Crash and A History of Violence), I was excited to hear that he was tackling a Russian mob movie, especially with Viggo Mortensen as the lead and featuring Vincent Cassel (one of my favorites). Acclaim from the Toronto Film Festival and Village Voice writer J. Hoberman, led me to the conclusion that Eastern Promises appears to be a movie I would not regret spending $8.25 on.
Although I am not well-versed in movie critics, J. Hoberman seemed like a reliable source when investigating my hunch about Cronenberg’s potential success. I was not disappointed. Hoberman starts out by calling Cronenberg:

...the most provocative, original, and consistently excellent North American director of his generation.

This is, of course, totally subjective, but in some regards I suppose Cronenberg's efforts have been weirdly incongruent, and yet, critically acclaimed. But it wasn't Hoberman's generous compliment that made me respect the movie more. It was his adulation for Cronenberg’s style and technique that ignited a curious spark.

... Eastern Promises features Cronenberg's most unambiguous monster and straightforward narrative in years; the movie is a cosmic struggle between good and evil.

I mean, come on. If that doesn’t sound engaging, then I should probably just give up right now. Anytime the words “straightforward” and “cosmic” are used in the same sentence, there needs to be some level of artistry in the product. I’m not quite sure what the most enticing aspect of the movie is for me. I guess I’m most looking forward to the suspense factor which is achieved (I’m assuming) through the integration of teenage prostitution, a diary in a foreign language, a meddling mid-wife and, more importantly, Cronenberg’s unique means of how to present the Why? and How? without manipulating and exaggerating the Who? What? and Where? . Hoberman and I agree on this point but he mentions another Cronenbergian factor that is an acute observation and solidifies my faith in Hoberman.

[In]…usual…Cronenberg, the ordinary is severely contested terrain. (In a new scholarly treatment of the director, Mark Browning notes that nearly all of Cronenberg's post-1982 movies are designed to "problematize exactly what constitutes 'normality.')

Naked Lunch, to me, was probably the most applicable to Mark Browning’s statement (even if the book was messed up to begin with), but nonetheless, Eastern Promises seems to be accurately labeled by Hoberman.
I may have to wait to see the film to be able to comment on whether or not Hoberman was a resourceful critic for my interest in Eastern Promises, but I think over all his explanations and impressions are legitimate. Hopefully I can make time from my busy schedule to get my Eastern-organized-crime-action/thriller-meets-the-natural-struggle-between-benevolence-and-malevolence fix.

Genesis

Salutations!
I'm excited to explore the magical world of film.
Stay tuned for more in-depth opinions and analyses of cinematic adventures.