Velleity, Mio Mal

"The light in Sicily is corpuscular," -- the perceptive cinematographer for RAI's Montalbano.

Luca Zingaretti is actually annoying for a Roman greaseball, however acculturated his Old World inadequacy against the modern age, his clean shaven pate and passive acceptance of the voluptuous female in chase of his ineptitude baffling, unlike  Terence Hill, Luca cannot fit into the spaghetti western codex.

Eastwood makes it easy in Sudden Impact, despite the moral equivocation of some of Sondra Locke's targets. Females, victimized, need to acquire the accouterments of masculine power and strike back. Not that it heals her torn psyche, necessarily. After the cartoonish punks are wiped out, Callahan has to make a judgment call about Jennifer; makes it. Everyone's debt was paid. The cost is what it is, including the price Eastwood himself pays for having created Million Dollar Baby using the same Social Darwinism model dressed up with characters in whom we invest. Eastwood is the only conservative who offers the disabled an answer within his ideology: death with dignity is better than being defeated by an environment with scarcity of resource, though Hilary is, of course, only an actress performing a white trash home girl out of her depth, and as an able-bodied women felled by the realities of the boxing industry, her decision for active euthanasia was easy for audience empathy. Developmental conditions are another matter, and for that we have to dive back in the archive for the orangutan and related mimics to loosening. 

Gang rape is a rare phenomenon, involving the dynamics of group psychology with which Sabrina Erdely should have been armed before she proceeded apace, perhaps inserted in the script to mitigate Locke's vengeance, presupposing we still live in a world where we can resolve injustices perpetrated on our own initiative.

Ulysses may be a very large Joycean experiment, but Virginia Woolf succeeds without resorting to so many belabored correspondences, though we would never allow To The Lighthouse to supersede the former. Both novels hew to their scenic locales. Woolf's alluding subtly is richer than Joyce's, not so prone to cerebral hemorrhaging. Certain Romans aren't keen on the brogue.