Canid

The Fall Rated R :Fuzzy::Fuzzy: This film is visually striking, but its real winning point is the acting. Romanian actress Catinca Untaru's performance as 5 year old, Alexandria was unerringly genuine. The story is a simple one, set in a Los Angeles hospital in the 1920s. Alexandria, who broke her arm picking oranges in the groves is persuaded to come and listen to a story told by Roy (Lee Pace) an injured and suicidal stunt man. The story, as imagined by Alexandria, changes with the girl's input and Roy's mood, but is filmed beautifully and with a dream-like quality to the visuals. The film bears a visual resemblance to The Cell, and shares the same director and several producers. The story, however is superior. Filmed in 29 locations around the globe and using no CGI, it is worth watching just for the visuals (Can anyone say "swimming elephant"?) and the visuals are trumped by Catinca Untaru. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The Purple Fuzzy Rating Scale = No redeeming features. 1 = Had potential. Ruined it. 2 = Average entertainment level. Mediocre. 3 = Worth renting. Solid movie. 4 = Faultless. An excellent watch. 5 = An all time great.

Well, how could I resist? In typical Canid style, I present you with some animal songs in the form of: Metazoa - Mighty Pen Muxtapes vol. 2 http://canid.muxtape.com/

If there is any room left on your sign-up Venefyxatu, I'd like to do this. I'd like to describe the Pen Chat-Room, river and surrounding country-side if I may, but if that's not what you had in mind, Canid is up for re-building her fortress.

I have one comment, after voting which is that the default feedback level ought to be left blank until specified, for lack of this option I voted for "Critical is acceptable" as this is what feedback is (to me at least) and I think that most people are careful enough when giving criticism that they aren't going to hurt feelings. Myself, I always try to end a critique on a positive note so the recipient will not feel bad about any criticism I may have offered - I try to start with a complement too for that matter.

I saw the Prestige first I believe, and I really didn't like it. Like Wyvern, I expected much more from the cast. The Illusionist on the other hand, I quite enjoyed. The two movies may be similar atmospherically. Both somewhat slow paces and set in roughly the same era. Both involve fantastic illusions, and concentrate on showmanship. BUT Those are mere trappings... they are entirely different films. The Illusionist, while not perfect, was far more an intellectual thriller. It plays on your sympathy for the characters, and your willingness to be 'taken in' by a magic show. The Prestige had a comparatively messy plot, and was less about the magic than the relationship between these two men. Both of the gentleman magicians had a nasty streak bordering on stupidity. I enjoyed it in bits, but was left displeased with the shape of the thing. Well, now that I have reviewed it, I might as well rate it. The Prestige PG-13 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The Purple Fuzzy Rating Scale = No redeeming features. 1 = Had potential. Ruined it. 2 = Average entertainment level. Mediocre. 3 = Worth renting. Solid movie. 4 = Faultless. An excellent watch. 5 = An all time great.

Otesánek (Little Otik) :Fuzzy::Fuzzy: One almost wants to rate this movie on a different scale from regular cinema. I have only seen one other movie by director, Jan Svankmajer, (The other being "Neco z Alenky" or "Alice") but I want to see more. "Otesánek" is supposed to be the most conventional of his films, and I can believe it. They are works of surrealism, using stop motion animation (no CG) and imagery more than words to tell their stories. "Otesánek" differs in that much of the story is revealed in dialogue, but it maintains the dark and disturbing atmosphere of his other films. It is a Czech fairy tale, about a childless couple, who in their desperation, see a vaguely baby-shaped tree stump as real. The wood baby, Otik, is real enough, and soon develops an appetite that cannot be stopped by mere broth. The film is quiet. Not pretty by any means: it is not meant to be. The characters are compelling and very real. I appreciate it especially for how unusual it is, but even if the style were a popular one, this would still stand out for its quality storytelling.

Cherish Rated R :Fuzzy: Despite the awful title, and despite the awful cover, this is a very good movie. Zoe Adler (Robin Tunney) is placed under house arrest to await her trial for the murder of a policeman while driving under the influence. The truth is that she was forced into the driver's seat by a stalker, who hit the accelerator in panic when it looked like he was about to be revealed; but there is no evidence to support her wild claim and her situation looks hopeless. The climax, with her dramatic escape and the exposure of the true criminal is, I admit, contrived; as is the all-too-convenient romance between Zoe and the officer responsible for checking her bracelet, Daly (Tim Blake Nelson). But accepting that the plot is not poetic perfection, it still comes out a satisfying story, with interesting, well developed characters and a premise that hasn't been used a thousand times before. Also in its favour is the casting of Tim Blake Nelson as one of the leads. Even after his success in "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" as Delmar, he hasn't played many. He is an excellent actor, and well suited to this role. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The Purple Fuzzy Rating Scale = No redeeming features. 1 = Had potential. Ruined it. 2 = Average entertainment level. Mediocre. 3 = Worth renting. Solid movie. 4 = Faultless. An excellent watch. 5 = An all time great.

You did a fantastic job selecting and editing Wyvern - it does indeed flow perfectly. I did as recommended and listened to the whole thing head to foot without a pause... which meant I had to choose between paying complete attention to the lyrics or reading the comments in conjunction with the songs, so it will have to have another run for me to appreciate all it has to offer - but I followed it and enjoyed it none the less. It was also interesting hearing the sorts of tracks selected by my fellow Pennites... I know it was narrowed down, but I was surprised by the style and tone chosen in places. ...and I'd really love to hear some of the tracks that were passed up some time. Oh, and I'm a sucker for horns too, by the way. (<- Get it? It has a horn! Har de har har har!)

Thank-you muchly Wyvern. Yes, I had quite a good day. I feasted on raw fish (Oh how I love sushi), but thank-you for the offering. You seem intent on returning him to his flock anyway, so I'll let you.

“…and ‘ee didn’ even wake up…” Lord Adulade bent over the table, wheezing, “until the devul,” he made a sweeping gesture, first with the left, and then the right, nearly clobbering the sotted guests to each side, “knocked the legs,” wheeze, “off’f’is bed!” He bent with laughter. Lord Brizzeby observed the man’s beard dragging in the fish. He drained and refilled his goblet without a word. Adulade recovered from his fit long enough to pour half the tankard of ale down his front. The empty vessel was cast aside and he looked up in feigned surprise. “Herald, my tapestries are fallen. What happened to the walls?” Lord Brizzeby stared at the drink and answered acidly, “Those are not Dominique’s words. It is hollow humour if you must make up faults for which to insult a man.” Adulade raised his messy eyebrows and stared across the table at his host. “I’ll haf you know… I heard it, from the herald ‘imself.” The man nodded and grabbed his neighbour’s drink. Lord Brizzeby drained his own goblet again and got shakily to his feet. “You’ve… have been telling that cretinous story for twenty years and the oney truth that’sever been in it is that his bashing castle was flattened.” “By my command!” “You command only stories!” “I command the arcane! I command the Purple!” “Your plane-shifty is haf dead and you’ve commanded nothing greaterer than wurms since Dominique fled here.” Adulade blinked in surprise. “Fled here? Why the ‘ell did he fled here?” Brizzeby stiffened. In vino veritas. Curse the drink. “He happens to be my cousin. I entertained him for two months while your buffoons searched for his body.” “You ‘id that traitor here and played friendly neighbour with me for twenty years?” “Speak carefully neighbour.” Adulade turned red. “You filthy, shceaming, bl- blue, kniving-“ Adulade attempted to rise but fell back promptly.” “Guards. Shee Lord Adulade out.” Brizzeby turned carefully around and stumbled towards the stairs. Adulade pulled himself to his feet and grabbed his plate, lobbing it at his departing host, missing by some considerable degree. Brizzeby gestured obscenely as he leaned on the wall and Adulade was dragged out, struggling with his retainers, most of them nearly as drunk as their master. They were simultaneously flung out the door, and brought their horses. It took Adulade several minutes and several falls to mount. Clutching hard to the horse for balance, he raised his fist to the tower window. “A plague upon thee!” ~***************************~ Anverp the Guard shuffled from foot to foot. Plane-shifters made him uneasy. It wasn't that they could disappear right in front of your eyes, only to reappear behind you three seconds earlier, so that by the time you noticed they were gone, they had already tied your hair in a pony tail. In fact, there was only one recorded incident of that ever happening, and it was almost 100 years ago. No. Such antics were beneath modern plane-shifters and didn’t concern him. It was that craftiness in their eyes. That intelligence about their manner that really unnerved him, because everyone in the realm knew they were all quite insane. They didn’t start out insane, it developed and festered over the years. Old shifters like Enguda here were the worst. Completely mad... but clever, very clever. Anverp’s hand strayed upwards to finger his curly hair. Lord Adulade stood a couple feet to his left, watching passively as the plane-shifter circled the stable boy, looking over his hands, sniffing him like a dog. Enguda was clothed in the garments of the high court. He was clean and sported a tidy beard, but even so, managed to look dishevelled and dirty. Were it not for the bright, shimmering purple cape, tied like a sash about his waist, he might have passed as a common merchant. Enguda plucked a hair from the boy’s head, and after careful inspection, ate it. He turned around with a flourish and a half grin. “The force is strong with this one.” He grabbed his cane and started dancing wildly about the room with it, whistling some bizarre tune. “He is a shifter, then?” Adulade didn’t flinch as the guard to the right parried off a swing of the cane. “Yes, sir. And it will be my pleasure to guide him to the Purple.” Lord Adulade’s mouth twitched with satisfaction. “Good.”

You confuse me sometimes Quincunx.... ...well, frequently. *Canid sits agitatedly behind her Egad!ib, wondering if she's done something wrong.*

Madlib Formula #323 Silver - 'Egad!ib' 1) [A Vehicle] chariot 2) [Verb, Past Tense] smited 3) [Plural Noun] worshippers 4) [Verb, Past Tense] feasted 5) [Adjective Ending in "-like"] mountain-like 6) [A Number] one 7) [Plural Noun] temples [Feature of Said Plural Noun (7)] sacrificial altar 9) [Article of Clothing] sandal 10) [Adverb] skillfully 11) [Adjective] evil 12) [A Hair Accessory] wreath 13) [Adjective] golden 14) [Part of Body] hand 15) [An Artifact] sceptre 16) [Noun] Apollo 17) [Plural Noun] frogs 18) [superlative Adjective (i.e longest, lowest, etc.)] highest 19) [Formal Title for a Person] Caesar 20) [Adjective Ending in “-like”] ruby-like

Valdar, clutching his approached the tired wolf and tugged on her tail. Canid turned around and smiled at him. He pointed longingly up at the skylight and muttered something. "Puppy mffle mff shiny mmmfle mmmf painting." She frowned. "I'm not a puppy Valdar." The little boy grinned. "Puppy." "Wolfy, Valdar." "Puppy." "Say 'wolfy' and I'll paint you your very own." Lil' Valdar's eyes went wide. "Wolfy." he said, appeasingly." "Very good." Canid took out some more paper, and proceeded to paint the stars.... View all against black and tan here: http://www.angelfire.com/80s/Canid/images/...es/BlackBG.html

I can't do precise movements I've tried and I've failed. The pen won't move smoothly my hand's looking ailed. There are more lines than letters on the pages before me and all of them wonky uneven and poorly. I've tried scoring the page to at least maintain size but the ink fills the lines and it doesn't disguise all the pen strokes that simply refuse to line up - and I'm forced to stop now for my hand's given up. Ow. I shall return!

"You're sitting on my dinner" said I. The man looked uncomprehending and stared at me with amazement. I suppressed the urge to bite him. "You're sitting on my dinner" I repeated. He raised a hand slowly, pointing at my mouth and spoke in a soft tone of awe. "Vol tonal egret?" I knew what he was saying; I have heard "You can talk?" uttered in all the languages of Terra, and a few more besides. I nodded. Then, putting my head against the man's side I gave him a shove. He stumbled to his feet and after a moment of confusion, spotted the rabbit. "Gah!" He twisted around, looking at the ruined seat of his garment and momentarily forgot his shock at meeting a talking wolf, in favour of trying to clean his robe off in the snow. I took the opportunity to wolf down the remainder of my long awaited rabbit before anything else 'foom'ed into existence on top of it, before the weasel noticed it, and before any more starving puppies showed up. The man was finished cleaning his robe and turned back to me, wonder again filling his eyes and broke into a long stream of incomprehensible dialogue. Normally I would have understood it, despite the tongue being entirely alien - mind reading was one of the first mage-skills I ever possessed, but now I could feel the fur on my back begin to stand on end as the air buzzed with the creation of magic sparks around the spot where the man had appeared, and self preservation forbade me from calling on even such minor magic in their vicinity. I backed away from the disturbance. The man babbled on, oblivious to danger and slowed in his speech only as the magic became visible. The sparks were all clustered in the air where he had lain, like some miniature, man shaped galaxy; not the odd one or two of these previous weeks, but thousands of them. I swore. The man looked down at me curiously. The sparks began to spread out. I danced backward and the human had the sense to do the same. Cuan had stopped nuzzling the weasel and was staring rapturously at the mass of bright magic. I grabbed the puppy by his scruff. "Wait! I want to watch it!" he protested, squirming. I took a few steps out, and turned giving the man a look that said, as clearly as I could say it with a look, "follow me," then pivoted in the snow and ran for my life. ~***************************~ "Canid, you break my heart." I shook off the snow in the great entrance hall of The Pen and replied with a distracted "what?" Cuan curled up on the rug where I had released him and shivered violently from the cold run. "Here I thought you had no mate, and now you have a puppy." Prospero was grinning at me.