Emptiness rings out at the late night session. Nobody sidles up to plonk down in the theatre seats beside. Gone are the crowds ready to drown out the on-screen dialogue. It’s hours from midnight when the bleeding starts.
Fatigue quickly sets in when there is a lack of rest, of some kind, between the long stretches of going all out. Taking off half the day to run errands is a respite worth acknowledging for being necessary in framing a cumulative narrative.
Wild abandon is part of a healthy disregard and distrust for authority. The Merc with a Mouth shovels it deep and shovels it fast to explore what it means to be responsible for living such a lavish life borne of hiding the true cost of consequences.
There is an inherent peace within Thanos’ motivations. A quiet want and quest for setting a scene that sets the Mad Titan up with a pathos worth following and admiring in its boldness and interpretation. Here, destruction is not for its own sake, but as a necessary instrument of balance.
Deep in the mirage of anti-colonialism and the politics of a sovereign nation coming to light is the tale of a start-up company looking to go public.
Bruising through immigration hassles is not the best way to spends years of your life. Humour, then, is what’s needed to keep your head in the game when trying to make it off a Nauru-like plane of existence.
The cycle of violence against Uncle Bens stops here. They don’t even drop the father-figure in a flashback. The world moves on with the fact that enough people know what that backstory is. Peter Parker has enough angst and failing to not always loom over a dead body.
Survival after graduation depends a lot on how much of a safe space the books and lecture halls have weakened the muscles from being in open air. There among the filth of society we walk and wonder what kind of things are going on in other people’s heads.
Getting on the ground of miserable is life. That struggle of the normal, everyday drudge coughing up gristle with a crick in the neck from slumming it in the car overnight. An exercise in exhaustion. The expense of which cashes out when Wolverine brings it back and away from the world of one-upping a world levelling event down to a personal note.
Kamar-Taj offers no direct flights. It’s by way of a trek and then again that feeling of thirst and wondering where the toilets are. You’ll always find something to read no matter where you are on Earth. (Glyphs are glyphs.) Even if it means not being able to talk with the locals.
The X-Men are an allegory for their times. In the sixties it was all about the heat of civil rights. AIDS in the eighties. Today, their story tackles a new, important issue. In these adventures with Apocalypse they shed light on the bristling experiences of a new share-economy.
Starts off with a single person. And then they find a friend in a not dissimilar situation. And they’re both out cold. When they come to someone else has joined the party. Soon enough it’s a jamboree of living it up, chasing dragons and ghosts and be damned the consequences. Everyone’s opening up veins now.
The fun in destroying part of the suburbs is a scant sheen on what ends up being a brief dialogue on the issues of gender discrimination and working against the juicy allure of recidivism. Ant-Man's size represents the scale of disparity minorities face.