Reviews

During an interview on Turner classic movies in 2020 Francis Ford Coppola conveyed a truth about the main character in the film. He was an actual person who Cuppola knew in his college years who was a football player who had an accident that left him with a plate in his head. Of course it took the compassionate genius of the writer to integrate an entire film around this person .

The love and affection and at times anger that the female lead had towards the person who had lost so much of his capacity to think and expressed himself, happens to be something that is replicated in many peoples lives as they face the challenge of Alzheimer's disease

Now, after a half century, this film should be released to a world that needs this model of compassion.

This film is not in the category of entertainment. It transports the viewer into experiencing a degree of pain, of emotional suffering, embodied by Penelope Cruz, that is unique in my movie going experience.

The review here "Real Magical Realism" is by a woman who experienced the same suffering when her own mother was afflicted with a disease similar to the one in this movie.

This film, moving and brilliant with no comparisons, transcends the genre of movies, so may not connect with many, but it will be so much more for others. It was filmed on a standard that is not compatible to US disk players, so it's only on Amazon, where it can be rented or purchased.

It is for those who have known emotional suffering and managed to transform the pain into an incentive to enrich other's lives.

This is cinematography in the service not of entertainment, but of the challenges, of profound pain, being subordinated to genuine love of a child, a lover and a friend.

Seventy years ago, I attended a cheder similar to what this series showed, only it was after my regular school in Washington D. C, in preparation for my Bar Mitzvah. The Rabbi had the same personality, humor and harshness and he never did go into that meaning of the commandment against adultery.

I learned how to read Hebrew, but only enough to recite the words, as I had lust come from my public school where we had sung a Christmas carol to the "King of Israel" I couldn't recall who was the leader of that new country, but I did know it wasn't Christ. Over time I have become an atheist, with very little residue of the Jewish culture so brilliantly shown in the first two episodes.

One of the writers of season 3 stated he was often stuck with writer's block. Of course, as the convoluted plot had none of the verisimilitude of the first two; exemplified by the absurdity of Akiva's young wife's death never being explained, as mortality is almost non-existent for this demographic except for murder or suicide -- left the audience hanging. This was only one of the contrived plot elements such as the convoluted mix ups of engagement with the two Shiras. Every plot line of this thread was blatantly absurd, in contrast to the realism of every element of the first two episodes.

Now for a personal touch. My wife and I watched those first two, not as binging, but as immersion in another alternative life. I walked with the characters as they strolled the streets of Jerusalem; in contrast to my ending up in a suburb with no Jews, and very few people.. For a few hours I was in that community in Israel, enjoying the common belief in authority from the head rabbis. Being close to "Hashem", to God almighty, who watches over all of us.

I knew it wasn't real, but I want to believe it was, that had I lived my life in such a community, that was so vividly conveyed to have given me solace for what I was not destined to have lived. It was an alternative life among people I belonged to, not the one that I had lived, and am growing ever closer to leaving.

It is with great appreciation that I thank those who gave me these memories, something that I am free to imagine was my life. I will ignore and forgive the artificiality of that third season, and warn anyone who has not seen it, to treat it as "tref", non-kosher, and simply keep on walking past it. .

This is only the opening chapter of what should be the exposure of the insidious nature of pure greed and a lack of human compassion when combined with the inertia of trusting those in power.

As a senior myself, I was hesitant to watch this documentary ( available on Amazon Prime) having read about the final outcome, that turned out to be more illustrative of the depth of corruption that remained rather than its extirpation. In Clark County encompassing Las Vegas, there is a large population of elderly retirees, many of whom have no extended family, but enough of a nest egg to be a lure for those who can devise a system where all of their wealth can be confiscated, as they are sedated and restrained for the rest of their life.

This documentary seems like it is something out of a dystopian horror movie, perhaps even a netflix series. The reviews would point out that it is too exaggerated as such a conspiracy of evil, protected by legislation was simply too unbelievable.

The producer-director Billie Mintz is a one man show, depending on his casual mien to connect with people who would shun one who is more threatening. He also has the compassion and vision to take a long view, grasping the extent of the corruption and the virtual enslavement of those without the resources to "fight city hall."

I highly recommend viewing this documentary, and rather than feeling despair, become energized to find a way to address this defect of our legal-political system- and the many others that lie "under the color of law"

This is written during the election campaign that will either give a second term to President Trump or to one from his opposition Democratic party. It's location in the flow of history should be defined by eras, rather than number of years since the birth of Christ, that traditional count of cycles of our planet around the sun.

The era of this film's creation and dissemination is a millisecond of cosmic time, from the great apes developing that first proto-culture, meaning complex interactions cemented by language -- that at one point, unexamined and unknowable, - ostracism, affection and curiosity resolved itself into something different - laughter.

In this context, Paul, the alien possessing powers that are unknown to earth creatures, is appropriately reaching us through the medium that we humans are accustomed to. We can join other strangers in an auditorium and feel the kinship of the knowing group who laughs in unison, or it can be in our own home watching a screen that allows us to be part of that same crowd. The knowing laughter unites us for a few seconds as we let ourselves be part of the adventure.

Paul wavers between vulnerability and immortality, his existence being only threatened by his extending himself by compassion, attempting to save another by the giving of his essence. If only there were such a creature, the personification of love who represents a force that transcends what earthian creatures and our cultures have devolved into. If only we humans had his compassion and ability, no longer needing to bury our fears in religious faith-- to join a stern patriarchy lead by a supernatural creature who demands fealty.

Paul showed us how that it's possible with a single touch to a secret spot to transform a frightened human into one who feels the full pleasure of her body connecting with another. The sexual joy of the young woman transformed becomes more genuine than the oppression that she, and her culture, imposed.

Paul the extra-terrestrial, and Paul the movie are messages from someplace that most of us may imagine, and some of us seek in various ways. For a couple of hours there was this gift of enlightened joy that seems to be receding as hatred, escalating and irrational, has taken over the political culture of our country and the world.

Paul, thanks for the visit. Let's hope that your message somehow becomes part of this suffering planet.

This was written to the writer of a play that featured Eli Wallach

Sheila and I just watched the film"The Tiger makes out" on TMC starring your associate and friend, Eli Wallach, and I have to write to you about it. While this is rarely mentioned among important films-- script, directing or acting, it connected with me for particular reasons that I want to share with you.

I actually lived, in many ways, Ben Harris, Wallach's character. When we started to watch the film, (recorded so we could repeat scenes) at first we guessed the year of shooting- since much of it was on location in Manhattan, where I was living after dropping out of college in 1958. While working in the printing industry, I actually attending a half dozen colleges, very much what both Harris and ironically his wife Gloria Fiske (Anne Jackson) aspired to.

This gets more eerie, as there was a scene in the film where Harris explained to Gloria why he was not able to complete his treasured quest for that holy grail, a "baccalaureate" degree. It recapitulated something almost forgotten, that before I moved to N.Y.C. I had attended G.W. university in my home town of Washington. I was doing O.K that first semester except in one subject, which was French, that I could not learn no matter how hard I tried --

The scene where his captive- the woman who would be his wife for more years than probably any pair in the history of filmdom- was beyond the arts of acting, method or any other school. It could have been no less than the genuine affection that the two shared, a connection of loving concern by one human towards another. It came through with clarity, as it wasn't technique at all, but two people sharing what they were blessed to find.

Her sensitive, and clear explanation of the artifact of french pronunciation flowing between words, conveyed the pleasure of both teacher and student, the feelings between lovers or a mother and her child. As I watched, not realizing that this was between two people who had found each other in real life, I felt soothed by such caring, and genuine affection.

There's a darker side to the existence of Mailman Ben Harris, that resonated with me, his not knowing the name in the very first scene of a man he had known for a decade- showing that he had nothing that all human's need, companionship and belonging. So he set out to capture it, entering the fantasy land where he would do it by force. It could be that watching this in the movie house of 1968, where one couldn't pause and savor each scene on home TV, couldn't know how genuine was that life of the mailman- that "nut case" Ben Harris.

How lucky are those fortunate folks who have found human connections, friendship or identity groups. Those who don't suffer greatly, so relish the love of another human being in ways that "normal" people can't ever understand.

Before going to sleep, my wife and I regularly watch the reruns of "Everybody Loves Raymond." some episodes quite a few times. One of the jokes about the benefits of Alzheimers is "you can hide your own Easter Eggs." Well, you can also watch your favorite programs over and over and still enjoy the surprise ending.

The details of California's assisted suicide law in the film "Paddleton" is an accurate depiction of this complex law, right up to the pills having to be opened individually. This law, which a few other States have enacted, is designed for inoperable terminal cancer and other diseases where death follows within six months, which excludes dementia, where the individual may suffer for many years.

Our culture and the laws in this country still see suicide as an anti-social act based on our majority religious tenets that only God gets to decide this. Of course it's also decided by medical-nursing home interests, that reap billions from those who live on, cowed by the opprobrium of suicide for ending a life of distress.

This film was not a polemic, but something rarely elevated to this level of reality, a friendship between two men. Friendship, while in one scene mistaken as an intimate relationship, actually was so, but not of the sexual way. In fact is was deeper, more personal -- a caring for each other that had nothing to do with sexual gratification.

We may be a long way from curing cancer or dementia, but this film, in the guise of entertainment, maps the path to normalizing life's end, not as a choice of God, but of we mere mortals.

I knew of the book and the fame of writer, so expected a meaningful experience. The film is meant to show the tragedy of existence, especially among the lower classes of London in the 19th century. I knew it was not an upbeat comedy.

There is a word, "verisimilitude" that I don't often use, but this film seemed to have been from a first draft of a screenplay with a single run through of the scenes. And then there's the background music, only it wasn't background but the volume and coarseness of it drowned out any subtlety of words or expressions of the characters.

Another aspect of a cinema is continuity, that not only the main drama, but the supporting characters individual parts fit sequentially and logically. You only notice this when it doesn't, like the very young woman that the lead character finally marries, had been said to be engaged to another, who just disappeared out of thin air.

We caught the film on TMC, and so no major financial investment, and if it appears again, and if you are not already feeling down and can handle this, give it a try. It will make you appreciate other films for the effort to make them what this film was the antithesis of.

Often a prosaic formulaic film can be a financial success based on casting and marketing decisions that provide anticipation of the release. Having viewed this just by chance last night on Netflix (not dubbed, as commenters have criticized) the film combined a rare and intriguing immersion of a different time and place.

Few films are made from Nobel Literature Prize winning novels, as this described by the prize winner Henrik Pontoppidan in 1917. "But the subjects which especially attracted me demanded a more spacious form and a broader style. I turned to the novel, an artistic form which had in former days been neglected and had thus acquired a bad reputation, but which during the nineteenth century had developed and elevated itself to the ranks occupied by drama and the ancient epic. In a trilogy, including Lykke Per written over a decade period, I have attempted to give a continuous picture of the Denmark of today through descriptions of human minds and human fates which reflect the social, religious, and political struggles of the time.

Rather than being unduly slow moving, this film conveyed the life of several strong willed characters along with an accurate depiction of two cultures of the era - fundamentalist Christianity and Secular Judaism. The three hours of the film could only define the contours of the radical Christianity, while dramatizing the cultural-financial-humanistic world of this class of Jews, that also illustrates this same group in neighboring Germany.

The film brilliantly depicted the era on two levels, a brilliant man who bristled under this form of Christianity; and his lover who was part of the vanguard of enlightened humanist sensibilities, soon to be destroy by the disaster of the Third Reich.

The acclaim by other commenters who saw the Danish language version, indicates this film should have been an artistic and financial success. As produced, it is a rare gem, that fulfills the original writers goal of capturing a time of transition in Denmark, and of Europe

Sarah Silverman the comedian is always, as are most of today's performers, using comedy as a drug, a treatment for existential dread. "If I can make them laugh, I'm alive, I'm part of something that's vibrant, no matter how I may feel deep inside."

This is why we are transfixed by comedy, which is why "I Smile Back" was absolutely entrancing for me. Her character, Laney, was treading water, dealing with her desires, fears, disappointments in a way that, if played for the release of laughter, could have been very close to the Sarah persona.

In this film we saw Sara's nude body, but no more so than we see her uncovered in her comedy persona. This short film, an hour and a half, is built on this person we know, had there been a slight variation, such as abandonment by her father when she was nine years old.

Laney, never had a father, or the sense of unconditional love that would allow her to be with a crowd of friends sharing the contradictions of existence, and turning the moment, by wit and wisdom, into loving laughter.

Laney, could never get over her hurt by the Dad she had loved, and then he was gone, never to contact her again. She sought the love in raw unfeeling sex, reproducing the rejection and loss of her father, with the men who had just given her sexual pleasure.

Sorry for the dissection of this film, one that went beyond entertainment, to the sense of sharing a life, that tragic as it was, was how things are for more people than we can imagine.

I watched this film the second time the day after the killing of 17 high school students in Florida by a kid who had lived a troubled life, known to be dangerous, but with no resources to help him.

What I realized is to a mass murderer, those whom he kills have offended against whatever values he holds sacred. In this film, once we ignore the comic book trope, we get to know the inner suffering of the person who describes the happy days of his life, both of them -- one being marrying another troubled soul, whom he loved dearly.

Sure, Rainn Wilsons', Frank Darbo vacillated between the earnest Frank Darbo and the super hero "The Crimson Bolt" was classic paranoid schizophrenia --- or elements of it. But, that's not the wavelength of this film, rather by creating empathy with his insanity, we can actually root for his smashing the head of a man whose crime was cutting in line for movie.

Evil is evil, and once in character there is no quarter, no mercy for those who would break the law, do wrong. He is no longer the nondescript short order cook, who has no resources to prevent a drug pusher from "stealing away" his wife. The process of his connecting with his sidekick, Ellen Page's Libby / Boltie allow unbridled lust, she for him, to spark the raw emotion that demolish all restraint, or even reason.

This viewing was an epiphany for me. The murder of 51 people at a rock concert in Las Vegas was by a man who was financially successful, no brain disease or any other explanation by those who knew him of his motivation. This film certainly doesn't answer this question, but it graphically illustrates how homicidal hatred can be unleashed within an individual who had never even been in a fight before.

Under the guise of entertainment we were seduced to identify with what we call a "monster" who wantonly kills without compunction. We share the excitement, the sense of merging with God himself in punishing evildoers. The more gory, the more shocked the person upon realizing his life is over, the more exaltation our very human super hero felt.

My first viewing of this film, was too stunning to let myself feel empathy for the suffering of the human character whose only release was in this joyous expression of violence. This time I got it, I had tears in my eyes over the life of suffering that Frank had lived, and could enjoy the pretend release of his vindictive carnage.

And then there's the last five minutes, the postscript, where the violence of what had come before could have all been a dream, a fantasy that happens in real life all too frequently.

Last night my wife and I, watched this film, made towards the end of WWII. When I sat down to watch this, it was immediately captivating once I accepted that this was to be made in the idiom of the time. This was shot when we were at war, with news of the death or maiming of a loved one a fear that those who went to the movies wanted to get some relief from.

We first see Van Johnson, the decent every-guy who was facing an operation to remove shrapnel from his chest,close to his heart, that would obviously cut his life short, unless removed. The operation was scheduled for Tuesday (The Weekend is two days of real time.) The first scene is the surgeon dictating the letter to the military hospital, as we see the reaction of the stenographer, Lana Turner, as she learns he has only a fifty percent chance to survive, and that's only if he has a "will to live."

Lana Turner and Van Johnson were movie stars whose picture on the cover of fan magazine was a sure boost for sales. In this film, with the complex plot unfolding, they were true actors playing their part, conveying lines written by others that they embraced fully. Johnson become the decent pilot whose best friend he "kidded" into joining him on a mission, that he did not survive. A guilt that consumed the Pilot, making that necessary will to live something that was problematic.

For those who want a narrative of the story, it is on the Wikipedia article (with a note that it may be too detailed) but this is written on a political website, and I'm going to make detour using this film as a template for a conversation between two eras, that of when the film was written, that happens to be when I was just grasping the world as a toddler, and today, some three quarters of century of the progression of history.

One graphic illustration of the change of this time span is the scene out the window, a view South showing the Empire State Building 18 blocks to the South, with this skyscraper then the tallest building in the world since completion in 1933, , and still standing alone like the Washington Monument in D.C. There was no building done in the United States, and actually the world, as the depression started soon after the opening, and then the war. That was twelve years of two very different causes of economic paralysis.

So this contrived plot, from the view out the window to the interplay of the fictional characters had a ring of truth that is exceptional. We see Stenographer Lana Turner, with intelligence, ambition and beauty having to make a choice. Either she could become a private secretary to an amoral international con-man, allowing her to live a life that would wipe out the memory of her raw hell's kitchen childhood, or it was growing old as she worked in an office. While the lines were fiction, the choice for those times were genuine. And the film depicted this challenge, and her decision that was not sugar coated, but one that reflected perfectly what life as like for the vast majority of women.

The several shots of the bank of telephone operators, an exaggeration of the numbers for the 1500 room hotel, but not of the millions of women who spent their working life with conversations limited to responding to "number please." As far as racial issues, they were completely avoided, as there wasn't a single frame, including in the crowd shots of anyone who was other than than, on appearance, being of the "Caucasian" race. In the two reviews that are extant, Variety and the N.Y. Times, this is not noted, as this is the way things were. There were "race films" in this era --and then everything else. The division between male and female, black and white in the film were a starting point for drama or comedy.

Not a single person who viewed this film, absolutely absorbed in the humor and the drama sequestered in the darkness of their local theater could have imagined the world we live in now.

About a third through watching this streaming video in our small TV room, we put it on pause, and I said to my wife, "Do we want to continue to watch this, it looks like it just may be too painful." We hesitated, and then decided to go on.

Maybe, you are reading this to decide whether to view it; it's on Amazon Prime, at no cost, and may be on others. So, let me say it was one of the most moving and genuine films I've seen in my now long life. While most reviewers eschew "spoilers" that give away the plot, in this one, a review has to do this to some degree.

We were lucky,as we watched it unfold with the first half hour not knowing what would transpire, seeing it from a child's limited view given his unusual circumstances, and gradually realizing along with him what they were.

Therein lies the films brilliance. Don't get anymore details, just watch it.

"Defecation" otherwise known in the vernacular as "sh*tting." It's something that we all do, and that's about as comprehensive a "we" as you can get, going beyond mammals, to most every order of fauna that we know of. Biologically, that which we need to live is always enmeshed in other substances that during its digestion is eventually eliminated by some form of "excrement." As humans form societies, and then strata among them, this process is usually something to be hidden, both in act and acknowledgment in polite society. One "goes to the bathroom," without any further details of why, and what is hoped to be achieved in this place. Potty Humor is probably the earliest genre among children, as they have learned about this early taboo, and how breaching it can get a reaction of some kind. It's cutting edge stuff among two year olds.

I remember a lecture years go, where the speaker for some reason described the rectum as "the most intelligent sphincter that we have." She explained that it has the ability to determine whether to release gas, liquid or solid, and can do so selectively. Wow, just visualizing what she was saying, and realizing that she was right, yet the street term for this brilliant organ has became a "fighting word" epithet. Thinking about this amazing work of evolution - or very intelligent design-- makes me smile to this day. (This site has both a layman's and profession version of the rectal-anus organs so I won't continue along this vein) This is about a movie, made in India, that has become a world wide hit, which is very much about a life-long problem of the father of the eponymous character, Piku. You see, the father, a lively outgoing character has been had a life long struggle for what to him is close to nirvana, the perfect "motion" that process that most of us do unconsciously, taking a relaxed and satisfying sh*t.

The film is not shy about dealing with his problem, as it is the central motif, that I can say without fear of contradiction, has never been so much the focus of a film ever before, in any language or culture. My wife and I watched it at home streaming from Netflix, and very quickly realized this was exceptional, in the story line, the dialogue and the brilliant acting -- spoken in Bengali and English, bi-lingual as were the main characters. I don't use the word "comedy" as that implies this was written for laughs, rather than that the amusement was part of the unfolding of events.

I write this for a rather personal reason, one that also gives a flavor of this amazing film. As I was watching it, both of us enjoying it immensely, I was getting tired of the old man's problem, how he seemed to always be thinking about his bowel movements, the exact position of posture during the act that had been modernized with the adoption of western commodes among their strata. I wasn't shocked, or offended, but somehow it bothered me.

When the film ended we gave it our five stars, and it was time to go to bed. This morning was a regular day, waking early reading the paper, catching up with email and then breakfast. I had left time to do what I had to do before driving to the tennis courts, but there was a delay, one that I hadn't anticipated. Dear reader, indulge me now, since this gets personal. I had been blessed for my entire life with not having issues such as Piku's dad had. I would sit down, maybe reading a paper, and then with the lack of appreciation that we all have when our body is working, I would have achieved the goal, and flushed away the evidence.

But not today.

I realized that the process was not working. And worse, there was no connection between my will to make this work and that organ, that rectum-anus complex that must sense and then coordinate a muscular system that rids the waste of our sustenance. Now, since at least the last several thousand times that I evacuated, this has not been a problem; so it's fair to say that based on stochastic statistical analysis I can objectively conclude it was the discomfort I felt in watching this film that, although unconsciously, was the cause of my problem. It had made me just aware enough of this organ to interfere with the unconscious process, that once thought about, impedes this coordination of muscles of this most vilified organ of excretion.

I tell this story, as part of a review of this film, one that has garnered praise around the world without my help. It is about film, cinema and maybe the broader effort of the expressive arts. What can be conveyed as entertainment, at its best, touches on the parts of us that we are unaware of. Maybe it's our need for affection, for mutual caring that is shown under circumstances that connect on a certain wavelength. So, in this film it was that Pika's dad was so real, so human, that I internalized his distress and actually felt it. It never went to the cognitive parts of my brain, but directly to the autonomic system controlling my anal sphincter.

Not to dismiss the delightful realism of the other aspects of the movie, maybe it was the creators deciding to build a plot around this one mans un-achievable desire that provides a metaphor of much of art. This time, for me, it was a temporary dysfunction of something that must be unconscious to work as intended. How much of the richness of life is what we can only feel, a natural part of living that we are better not to ponder?

Humor, beyond the pure pleasure of laughter, can provide insights into the rules, norms and taboos of the times that by showing the distortion that provides release. At the time this was made, it was focused on a bygone era of murderous mobsters and their living sex toys.

Not only were gender roles defined, there were to the degree that the issue hadn't even been raised, neither in the time of depiction 1929 or three decades later when the film was made. The fun was that all it took for men to gambol with the chicks was their putting on dresses and wigs, and raising their voice an octave.

The DVD shows the complete film with commentary by the son of billy Wilder's co-writer, Babaloo Mandell along with Jack Lemon and Tony Curtis, describing more than the technical aspects Most touching were how Marilyn Monroe resonated to the fictional character. Curtis, without any bravado, told of how his on stage scene when he convinced her that he was impotent, and with tenderness and passion she "cured" him, echoed their actual love affair previously.

We also see the genius of writer director Billy Wilder at work in a way that can't be described outside of such a film as this where his interpersonal and literary talents were at play. While this is appropriately in the genre of comedy, it is really so much more. It is a love story, and a tale of the tragedy of the real Norma Jeane that was never far away from the actress. Sure, at times the pain of her early life (see Wikipedia) broke through to the detriment of efficiency of the filming. But so what? The film on one level provided laughter, but on another insight into the human condition.

It is also a benchmark of sexual stereotypes where the setup for that final memorial line, the universal absurdity of the disclosure that the object of sexual desire would not make a suitable wife because, "I'm a guy." This was a world where women could roll in bed together without any thought of sexuality between them, and the joke was there were two who were pretending, only playing a role, performing a part.

How far the world has come, a truth that must be acknowledged whether pleased or disturbed by the revolution. And the coda, "Nobody's Perfect" takes on a more profound irony behind the laughter.

There are momentous events that shape our world, with individuals, Hitler, Napoleon, Marx -- who take the stuff of their birth world and shape it into something different. Those who capture forces and marshal them for revolutions, are both hated and loved, saviors and monsters -- and the winners write the history.

True Philosophers transcend this. They remove themselves from those who hate and admire such transforming figures, and by doing so risk becoming alienated from their own group. Thus is the case of Hannah Arendt in the period of this film. As a student she had a love affair with Heidegger, one of the great philosophers of the early 20th century - who as a human being joined the Nazis.

Arendt, being a Jew, in a covering the trial of Adolf Eichman, became the thinker, the philosopher, while those survivors of the Holocaust were in pain over their loss, and in no mood to intellectualize the perpetrators.

Although I lived only miles from Arendt at the time of this film, I was far removed from the academic culture described, and now more than a half century later, look back with a top of nostalgia and remorse. I knew some who survived the death camps, and certainly could identify with those who reviled Arendt for not loathing Eichman.

Yet these are the challenges of today. We have child terrorists such as one who just killed nine people in a black church our of the same inculcated hatred as the Nazis towards Jews. Arendt's thinking is valuable, and needed since the disease of hatred of outsiders does not seem to be fading, but rather is a constant recurrence of humanity.

I watched this on Link TV, a liberal cable channel specializing in those such as Noam Chomsky and Howard Zinn, so I expected it to be scathing. It certainly stripped away many illusions, but while strongly critical the results of trickle down, and the limits of his grasp of complexity of issues; it defined his positions fairly.

He did evolve from a New Deal Democrat, leading his Actors Union against management, but also was viscerally opposed to global Marxism, and the social revolution of the 1960s.

The insights of Morris, his official biographer for almost a decade, along with Cannon who wrote several biographies including when he was Governor, provide special scholarly insight.

The current Republican conservatives forget that he pass what was an actual amnesty for illegal-undocumented immigrants, and actually increased both government spending and deficits.

It could be that his hawkish policies early on allowed him more latitude to connect with someone eager to wind down the cold war, Michel Gorbechev. History doesn't allow for controlled experiments so we can't re-run events with a different leader at the helm.

I commend this documentary for those who lived through the era, but events have become hazy.

Napoleon Bonaparte's achievements for the non historians are so intertwined with the revolutionary period of his life, his military victories, his being both a populist leader and then a king, that it's difficult to form a coherent understanding of the individual. This documentary starts with the infant who as a child was thrown into a world not only of other students who were of a different class, the aristocracy, but of a different country, France.

Others would have wilted, but Napoleon had the brilliance, energy and drive for these impediments to be a springboard for transcendence. And if the old saw, "timing is everything," needs validation, his life is the ultimate example. This man was a child when the "ancient regime" had run its course, and the unwashed masses had been exposed to ideas that were to be encapsuled in "Liberte, Egalite et Fraternite" rather than subservience to the exalted power of royalty.

Napoleon managed to be educated and spend his earliest years demonstrating his intuitive military skills, away from the "terror" when waves of beheading ebbed and flowed with the vagaries of hope, power and reaction. This film manages to get inside the head of this man, understand his limits that became his strengths, his sexual desires that sustained him even when he was across the world in his conquests.

We learn about a human being, whose particular megalomania was exactly what a country, a world in the chaos of profound structural revolution needed. So, the paradox of a populist revolutionary who crowns himself Emperor conveys the challenge of all political systems. Ideals and myths (as he acknowledged religious belief being a useful one for the masses) only go so far, as full equality negates the authority that is needed for order. The French Revolution is the ultimate cost of a failed state, of chaos, the same condition that we see in 2015 in the middle East under the Islamic Caliphate.

So, the contradictions of Napoleon Bonaparte as so brilliantly delineated in this documentary, graphically illustrate political truths that the world dare not lose sight of. Few commercial endeavors have this potential value.

Not a single article or description of the ninth episode of this series, perhaps because it was never aired on T.V, and is only on Netflix. It is mostly interviews with the actual persons depicted in the series: Sandy Grimes, her husband, Jean,among others, responding to off camera questioner. Then there are extensive segments of Ames being interviewed by Ted Koppel.

This final segment is the key to the entire series, as it shows just how accurate the dramatization was. Once they had the smoking gun from the final Russian source and home recordings Ame's conversations with his wife, without knowing that the final episode would be a documentary of the series, I thought it would be created fluff, perhaps an extended trial and marriage issues. I had thought that many scenes were the writers taking liberties, as they seemed so implausible to me, but that last episode confirmed that the dramatization right up to the personalities of the main characters were spot on.

There was the touching scene of the the Soviet General that we knew had been betrayed by Ames with his granddaughter, that I thought was such a flourish. In this final episode the actual now-grown woman showed up at the signing of the book this series was based on, "Circle of Treason." We learn that the General, unlike Ames, made his decision not for money, but out of belief that those who controlled the government were destroying his country.

This, along with the in depth interview of Ames raises profound issues of the fine line between bravery and treachery that is being asked this day about Ed Snowden - who some claim betrayed his country while others consider a rare patriot. The first eight episodes was a diverting drama, with the ninth it became a rare provocative event.

I just saw this film at a local college with a friend (I'll call him Fred) who has spent his career as a botanist managing and consulting for agricultural facilities in Southern California and in Mexico. More than just being fluent in the language he has a natural affection with the workers, both "illegals" in this country and those living below the border. When the film ended, I turned to him and asked, "Well, is this reality as you know it? Given that the plot could only illuminate one of many possible outcomes, the question is of plausibility, accuracy of character, and realism of depiction of the human beings who make up this perennial "social political issue."

This film is an odyssey of only a week's length by a nine year old boy, Carlitos, who was forced by events to try to cross the border to join his mother living in L.A. The people who he came in contact with ranged from those who were about to bind him into sex slavery (my reasonable guess) to those who gave him a job washing dishes and grew to treat him like their son.

Meanwhile his mother, Rosario, was torn between working two jobs to save up enough money to try to get documentation to bring him to America, or going back home, accepting the poverty that would await them both. This film depicts the underworld of the "Coyote industry" of smuggling Mexicans across the border, both professionals and free lancers, one who ended up taking Calitos. It also showed those who prey on illegals here. This included a stereotypical wealthy woman who fired Rosario withholding her back pay, mocking her remonstrations with "go ahead, call the police!" (As an aside, just this year California made this exact kind of extortion illegal) Fred had seen many Immigration raids over the years, but never with the violence depicted in the film. But the one in the film was in Texas, where the same federal agency, now called ICE, has a reputation for such violence, so this also was accurate. Finding creative hiding places to evade discovery is common, and he told me he would help to find such out of the way spots in the greenhouses he managed. Fred told me that decades ago border control was so lax that some of the workers who were picked up in the morning and dropped off in Tijuana where back at work by late afternoon.

Borders are heart breakers, especially when two countries have widely divergent standards of living. The sacrifice of a mother for her child is a common occurrence among Filipino women who spend their children's childhood working in foreign lands, knowing them only by weekly phone calls as were depicted in this film, as being the only way to give them an education that would raise them out of poverty.

As the film was nearing the ending, and the Rosario was about to go back to her son n Mexico, not knowing that he was only blocks away in America, and that that circumstances would allow them to remain together in this "Promised Land," I fervently hoped for a "Hollywood Ending." Whether or not I got one, I won't divulge, since I want to leave off the spoiler alert. But I can convey that this film gives you a slice of reality that is an issue that the U.S. and other countries will face continuously, whether or not we pass Immigration Reform at this time.

It is a part of the world we live in, some countries blessed with wealth and opportunity and others on a treadmill of poverty, a reality made very human by this admirable cinematic presentation.

Artificial Intelligence is accumulating, sorting and organizing vast amounts of information. It can now diagnose and prescribe treatments for disease better and faster than any physician. Eventually it could give a lecture on world history and sociology, as these are a combination of information and logical organization.

What they will never be able to do is experience laughter, joy, depression or love. All of these are are part of the emotional system that is based on satisfaction of physical urges and fear of injury and death. In this respect your pet gerbil is closer than Watson to the 1000 power, as any animal has evolved only by the urge to survive, which means pleasure in sex and fear of death and all that brings this closer such as isolation, rejection, all the stuff that provides the vicissitudes of life.

Software will certainly be able to simulate all of these emotions, and perhaps do a reasonably good job of it. And this is the genius of "her" that I found it worthwhile, although flawed in many ways, only by viewing Samantha as how Theodore imagined her to be. He took what we all could see as an imitation emotional connection as the real thing, and what we were viewing in the film was what he heard out of his desperation. For a brief period, after his ex wife told him just this, his delusion was fractured, and the film took on a realistic bent that could have been a better denouement.

In stead it ended with some silly mystical pablum about all of the OSes heading for anther dimension. For me this was enjoyable, and even stimulating, but we live in a world where truth is both stranger and more exciting than fiction. It's a shame that the writers didn't do more actual research and serious writing on this meaningful subject.