Flow (Redux)

We re-watched Flow last night. It's still a beautiful film.

It's so visual that I had trouble with it, but on this second time around, I didn't have to spend so much mental energy just keeping up with it. I had less to figure out, and so I was able to enjoy more.

Quite literally, it's a friend or found family sort of film. We have our loner cat, living on her lonesome, who over the course of the film, learns to trust the animals around her, and towards the end, when separated from everyone else, instead of going back to living alone, seeks out her unlikely friends.

As for the world, I learned no more than I knew before. There were people there. They left suddenly. The world flooded. There were large sea dwellers that weren't of this world. It was like the world was engulfed in a huge tidal flood, and then the flood eventually receded.

I still admire the overall physical feel of the place. It doesn't feel like Europe at all, more like southeast Asia.

There are religious and spiritual overtones which I still have to sit down and think about. When the bird leaves, I'm not sure if that's a friend who died along the way, who is missed, and the cat went to see them off, or whether that's a more spiritual allegory.

If you can ever see this film, please do so. You'll find yourself rewarded. 

Eulogy for a Shovel

My snow shovel has been a survivor. I bought it because it was less big than other snow shoves, which is good because we often get wet or heavy snow. That thing wound up being a survivor. I believe that it shoveled me out of both Snowzilla and Snowmageddon. This tool has served me well.

The crack down the blade has pushed down to the tip, and now the shovel has lost integrity. I'm going to hit the crack with polymer glue and hope for the best. The prognosis is fair but not certain.