Film Review: MOONLIGHT (USA 2016) ***

moonlight_poster.jpg


MOONLIGHT (USA 2016) ***
Directed by Barry Jenkins

Starring: Mahershala Ali, Shariff Earp, Duan’Sandy’ Sanderson

Review by Gilbert Seah

MOONLIGHT is one of the most talked about African American films screened at the Toronto International Film Festival. It has garnered rave reviews based on its raw content and originality. And indeed, this film deserves all accolades.

MOONLIGHT is Barry Jenkins’ second feature after MEDICINE FOR MELANCHOLY.

It is s very strange feature, low-budget, very originally told (in three parts; each part titled by each of the three names the protagonist is given) of the life of Little or Chiron or Black from childhood to adulthood. His real name is Chiron, but is called Little in school due to his small stature. Little is ‘adopted’ by a local thug and his girlfriend when he is not living with his drug addicted mother.

Bullied and beaten up frequently because of his small stature and curly hair (he looks very much like a girl), Little cannot take it anymore and is arrested after he finally breaks a chair over his bully right in the middle of a class. The scene deserves quiet cheers.

Little grows up, surprisingly into a big muscled guy and meets back with his school buddy who gave him the nickname of Black. He obviously had the thug of his childhood as his mentor. Kevin and Black have a gay sex encounter which Black can never forget.

Jenkins’ film feels like it is all over the place though it is obvious he is leading his audience somewhere. One good thing about Jenkins film is that you never know where he is leading the audience. Though slow moving at times, Jenkins film is never boring and a compelling watch for start to end when the audience finally figures out the purpose of MOONLIGHT.

Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5fYFIj16YC0

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Film Review: THE ACCOUNTANT (USA 2016) ***

the_accountant_poster.jpgTHE ACCOUNTANT (USA 2016) ***
Directed by Gavin O’Connor

Starring: Ben Affleck, Anna Kendrick, J.K. Simmons, Jon Bernthal, John Lithgow, Jeffrey Tambor

Review by Gilbert Seah

Directed by Gavin O’Connor (WARRIOR, PRIDE AND GLORY) and written by Bill Dubuque, THE ACCOUNTANT is a action thriller that strives to be stylishly different. For one, it centres on an accountant, one that cooks the books for dangerous drug cartel members. He is hunted down by Revenue Federal agents. Is THE ACCOUNTANT a good or bad guy? How can he be made into an exciting action hero? How can he be made into a more than special human being? All these factors are infused into Dubuque’s script, which often appears to be trying too hard, resulting in a film more confusing and complex than need be.

As the film stars Ben Affleck who plays a human fighting machine, the film feels like a BATMAN with numbers.

Christian Wolff (Ben Affleck) is a mathematics savant (autistic) with more affinity for numbers than people. His childhood is traced, in flashback till the present. As a child, Christian’s military father believes that difference is perceived as a threat to most people. To protect his son, he forces Christian to better himself in martial-arts.

Grown up, Christian is a top-notch accountant who uses a small-town CPA office in a strip-mall as a cover. He makes his living as a forensic accountant for dangerous criminal organizations. With a Treasury Revenue Agent, Ray King (Oscar winner J.K. Simmons from WHIPLASH ) hot on his heels, Christian takes on a state-of-the-art robotics company as a legitimate client. As Wolff gets closer to the truth about a discrepancy that involves millions of dollars, the body count starts to rise. With the help of a new Revenue recruit, Median (Cynthia Addai-Robinson) who Ray blackmails into helping, Wolff’s identity is revealed. The showdown finally takes place in the mansion of the company owner (John Lithgow) who turns out to be the villain of the piece.

Besides Dubuque’s clumsy script, the film contains too many unintentional funny moments. The result is the promo audience laughing at too many parts during the climax. Median’s character could also be eliminated from the script for a leaner film, without much effect.
Affleck delivers an almost perfect low-key performance as the stoic accountant, whose body movements are basically stationary unless absolutely necessary as in the action scenes. Of the remainder of the cast, Jeffrey Tambor shines as Wolff’s cellmate, who was also involved with the drug cartels. Thankfully, the audience is spared the torture scenes, though a few hints (like the sight of a blow torch and damaged face) are enough to make anyone shudder.

Near the end, the film suddenly decides that it has to provide some message on autism. This results in one of the film’s most awkward segments with the music tuned to ‘melancholy’. For a film supposedly positive towards autism, the film contains some really disturbing scenes involving strobe lights and loud sounds.

Despite all its faults, THE ACCOUNTANT is a well-mounted film, with very exciting actions segments aided by crisp editing that conveys the accountant’s martial-arts training. THE ACCOUNTANT at least, attempts to put in some originality into the well-worn action genre.

Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DBfsgcswlYQ

 

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Betrayed with a Kiss, Poetry by Azzurra Nox

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Genre: Relationship, Romance, Love

Betrayed with a Kiss by Azzurra Nox

Answers cannot be found in your shattered reflection,
But you persist to search with your distressed eyes
Carving the image of your wrecked heart in the corridors of your soul.
Dead days pass you by—because
Eleven-fiftyseven knows all about your veils that
Fail to heal your bleeding wounds.

Gone forever are the days when
Heaven could be found in your boudoir,
Indigo tears fall uncontrollably—because
Jealousy rips your minuscule body with its tyrannical claws
Killing you in its cruel process.
Love for you now is nothing but a double dagger-inflicting Cupid, who

Marks your flesh with your lover’s name,
Nails his decayed passion deep within your
Opium-fueled fantasies.
Prick your bruised lips with a razor blade….
Quiet blood whispers its way down your pallid chin,
Rushes to seek an escape from your essence,

Strives to survive while you just…

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Cigarette Butts, Poetry by Rebeccah Pope

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Genre: Family

Cigarette Butts

My father made me.
Sculpted me out of the cigarette butts he & my mother left
outside the bar where they met.
Each butt falling,
landing
& forming
their foundation.
Accumulating,
into child after
child after child.
Children to sit at his feet.
Tugging at his heart
until he removed the strings.

By: Rebeccah Pope, 2016

 

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More than an Emotion, Poetry by AR slim

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Genre: Relationship

 More than an Emotion by AR slim

It wasn’t in the way she said she loved me. It was the sparkle in her eyes, that half grin smirk on her lips. The glow in her face. The touch of her hand against mine. Catching her looking at me as if I was the only man in the world. That’s how I knew. NO – That’s how she showed me what I meant to her:

Loved

    * * * * *

Deadline for POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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Watch Recent Poetry Readings:

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The Playground, Poetry by Phillip Rivers

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Genre: Examination of our Society, Youth Culture, Dark, Reality,

The Playground by Phillip Rivers

old buildings, empty fields,
and those vacant haunted lots
we used to play games
now they’re moving different rocks
oxy pills, heroin,
get the molly from ‘Pops’
never met the biological
just old dude from the block
broken swings, broken glass,
shards at the bottom of the slide
dark urban metaphors
represent what they feel inside
skinny jeans, skinny teens,
hallowed out cheeks
zombie looking humans
fixing for the next treat
sunken eyes inside a skull
that once was filled with hope
the avenues they stroll
trigger mechanisms to cope
wasted Youth, squandered Dreams
children forced to be grown
how can they see the light
with no electric on at home
empty house, empty plates,
stomach rumbles provide the sound
with nowhere else to go
they seek out the playground

Twitter: thedailyPhilosophy (@philliprivers82)

Instagram: phillipalbertorivers (Grasp Your…

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Aylan lies face down, Poetry by Angelina Llongueras

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Genre: Rhyme, Thriller

Aylan lies face down by Angelina Llongueras

Aylan lies on the ground
face down,
the sea
has delicately poised him
on the beach,
right where the sand
and the water meet,
only a bucket missing
at his feet
for him to build a castle
in the delicate evening sun.

Aylan lies face down.

Mme Lagarde is happy
he has not outlived
the age where pensions
cease to be cost efficient
for those that, like her, rob them,

and suck the blood and flesh
of sweet «cheap» children
from «cheap» countries
scourged and devastated
by outsourced armies
made of private thugs
to avoid restitutions,
children placed,
like a satanic offer,
to her feet, so she can take a bath
made of their fragile delicacy,
and feel rejuvenated,
like that Hungarian countess
of the middle ages.

Aylan lies face down,
sleeping the infinite sleep,
together with his Syrian family,

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Will’s House, Poetry by Martha C. Wallace

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Genre: Family

Will’s House by Martha C. Wallace

Pla-ploop, pop, pop, bloop, bloop…
the coffee percolator sings.
Sssst, pop, pop, ssst
the bacon sizzles a hot reply.
Hot sticky cheese bubbles over the sides of the toast.
Buttery grits pop and boil.
Country music singers wailin’ and bemoanin’ love, life, and country livin’
drift from the kitchen radio to upstairs rooms.
Grandpa taps the tips of his shiny black shoes.
I rush to get the homemade peach and strawberry preserves from the pantry,
and grandpa’s favorite coffee cup .
First I blow, then sip the spicy and fragrant sassafras tea that Grandpa makes just for me.

Grandpa sleeps downstairs to protect his house-
no one was “comin in heh” he’d say.” My family’s gonna be safe heh.”
In the South’s cotton fields,
beautiful, white blossoms transform, turning crimson,
like the sharp cuts that the bracts made on my grandfather’s hands

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Tomorrow, Poetry by Kim Wheeler

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Genre: Rhyme, Life, Society

Tomorrow by Kim Wheeler

What happens when tomorrow never comes
Do we cry for loss of purpose?
Or do our tears tell the truth
That without another tomorrow
We shall be alone, once more
Without love, hope or salvation
And our path towards the light
Fades into damnation
As we fear the night
And we fear ourselves
And the weakness we behold
As we are alone
Growing tired getting old
Our memories make our future
What will we be?
What shall we hear and what are we to be or see
Perhaps emptiness again
What happens if tomorrow never comes
Guess we will just have to await our fate
And don’t question the question
Just accept we are what and where and when
We are
Alone again a part of the great unknown
Or apart from the great unknown
I will tell you when I know

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Full moon, Poetry by Adams Duniya

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Genre: Nature, Beauty, Life, Uncertainties, Hope.

Full moon by Adams Duniya

This bald asterisk
Over cottoned sky-high:
Wide-height, with silver hue
Has thou cast. In slow-line crawl
By soft retractile attendance –
Resolute for celestial harmony,
Has heavens splendour, thou calmed.

Let thy pseudo feet –
Ever soiled in resoled purpose
All earthly heaving, suck;
And every sigh’s brim
With sensuality, smear.

O, attenuate my love
I behold Sky Boy! –
It’s baby-hour-out; but
To what do we owe this visiting?
Let those tales recycle
And us, wisdom re-hear!

Trace thy trails
To the firth thou please;
Thy silent symphony holds
Our hearts to solemn assembly.
Nature has moulded thee sybarite;
The heavens have crafted thee sylph.

To our vain pilgrimage here below
Render a surfeit of thy grace
And galvanize us against the scourging
Sun of life. But night: of evil souls,
Do not leave us to it –

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