Separation Reflection

As a moviegoer, I'd like to think that I'm capable of discerning taste. Even as a (younger) lass, though, the visually appealing aspects of cinema held sway over me, far beyond such annoyances as plot, dialogue, and content; and for this reason, perhaps, the works of director Ridley Scott have always tickled my fancy, be it on an aesthetic or even, put simply, some primevally visceral level of appreciation. For all of the man's great films (Alien, Blade Runner and of course, Thelma & Louise), let it be known far and wide that Legend is not, for most intents and purposes, one of them. Unlike, say, Blade Runner, Scott's foray into the realm of fantasy bears a lamentably forgettable roster of pathetically archetypical characters, to say nothing of the storyline itself; and also, unlike Alien, there is no gloriously monstrous presence to hold everything together. What Legend shares with its predecessors, however, is exquisite ocular delights, the kind of stuff that can stay with you for a while, if not longer. I, for one, will never forget the inherent beauty of the following scene. Think of it, or me, what you will, but chances are, you (or the child within) will remember it.