Gemini ★★★★★

100

Sensuous, volatile mystery. A tinseltown nightmare dreamboat uprooted by the texture of the palm trees and the coins of old currency, old money. Float downriver in a *sublime* opening thirty-minute stretch, which bobs amidst the tide, the waves all white and blue, forever careless. Then, proceed to have the wind knocked out of you as a slumbery projection becomes real and resonant and immediate. The ache of the world festering in the humidity and the street lights and the pastel voids of the vents and sharp curves of the Hollywood Hills. It all lingers, floats in the air, haunts the paint of the walls. A paparazzi flash of a movie - passing in an instant yet forever uploaded for consumption. It feels like it's been years since I watched this movie and I just finished it. Every frame, colliding inside the vortex between narrative and feeling, curiosity and empathy. Gemini wasn't made: it was conjured, levitated, soaked in security light to protect itself from the coyotes. Here today, gone tomorrow.

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