Cloud Atlas, Loud Atlas, Shrugged Atlas

Rating: Null/10 (11 January 2013)

To have a tattoo-like comet on your buttock (how gay, my!) or on your clavicle (how sensitive!) or on your scalp (uh, was that a reference to the 1983 "Yellowbeard" with the map tattooed on a scalp?), to have a series of this mark or of nosy noses seems to be the lucid moral of what history is about (did I say history? how insensitive of me, failing to face the cosmic grandeur that connects us all!).
I enjoy a good old predestination drama and an open-ended, blooming melodrama equally, but this film is just awful; it is six bad films for the price - a very big price for a loud film that falls allover the place and ultimately marries opportunism with cynicism despite its revolutionary crap because its mantra is "our lives are not our own" - in the look-how-small-you-are-in-the-divine-proportions-space-and-time-wise (although you can be a revolutionary leader later turned into a religious figure) dimension that makes one's heart blink in astonishment and humble recognition.
Did Ayn Rand turn into the three-headed monster of the directors using the greatest box office star of all time Tom Hanks and the lame Hail Razzie Hale Berry to promulgate History as a series of unfortunate make-up (if you excuse the reference to "Lemony Sniket")?
But maybe one should return to "Yellowbeard", whose protagonist recalls the steps to his buried treasure saying the great line "Stagger, Stagger, Crawl, Crawl" in reference to the injured state he was in when he hid the treasure, in one of the underrated films of sublime bad taste. Only here those involved in the film do not recognize how they stagger or crawl or their injured state. How serious and heartwarming it all is.