Movie Review: A “Gump” sized Gimmick in Search of a Movie — “Here”

“Here” is such an empty cinematic experience that it summons up everything you ever hated about a Robert Zemeckis movie and the Zemeckis “style.”

An Oscar winner with enduring classics scattered across his resume — “Cast Away,” “Back to the Future,” “Romancing the Stone,” “Flight” — Zemeckis has long been a filmmaker overly fond of the technical challenges and the tech “gimmick” he could lean on for a given film.

From back-engineering the characters and worlds of “Back to the Future” to the walking-dead-Meryl Streep of “Death Becomes Her,” to manipulating “Forrest Gump” into scenes with historic figures and just plain digitizing actors for “The Polar Express,” “A Christmas Carol” and “Beowulf,” he’s often lost track of the forest while figuring out how to fake the trees.

With “Here,” the technical challenge is taking a piece of land through time and showing people living, building and dying on it over the millennia.

There’s a whiff of Orson Welles’ adaptation of “The Magificent Ambersons” in this soap opera saga, the timeless appeal of nostalgia. But that gets lost in a narrative which deigns to go back so far as to show us New Jersey Jurassic pre-history, climaxing with a Native American couple (Joel Oulette, Dannie McCallum).

We glimpse the Colonial Era construction of a magnificent (Ambersons style) house owned by Benjamin Franklin’s estranged loyalist “bastard” son (Daniel Betts), see a newer house eventually built across the street from it, drop in on a dawn-of-the-“aeroplane” era couple (Michelle Dockery and Gwilym Lee) who move into it, and watch a succeeding pre-WWII pair (Ophelia Lovibond, David Fynn) who just know their fortunes will be made if they can just get SOMEbody to buy and manufacture the inventor-husband’s “Relixichair, RelaxiBoy, “Lazyboy” recliner.

There’s a modern day Black couple (Nikki Amuka-Bird, Nicholas Pinnock) who move in and who live there long enough to have to have “the talk” about what to do when a cop stops their son for “driving while Black.”

But the “story” is about one family, traced from the day a veteran (Paul Bettany) returns home from WWII to buy this house across from the William Franklin House with his wife (Kelly Reilly) and they raise kids, one of whom will grow up to be Tom Hanks who’ll marry Robin Wright, reuniting the iconic Baby Boomer couple from “Forrest Gump.”

We’ll see “Richard” and “Margaret” as lovestruck teens, thanks to the technological “de-aging” now available via CGI. To give Zemeckis his due, the effect is remarkable and the actors are good enough to make us quickly forget the special effect in their wrinkle-free scenes.

But is their story of youth and dreams and dreams abandoned and marital trials and parents aging and dying of even the slightest interest, even to Baby Boomers who have lived out those versions of “The American Dream?”

It makes absolute sense that Zemeckis shot this quintessentially America saga entirely on British soundstages — save for the sequences that are wholly digitized. “Sterile” describes the visual experience. And it’s easy to understand why there are no still shots from any other era or its characters depicted in the movie extant on the Internet, because Zemeckis & Co. paid that little attention to those “Here” and “back then” or “now” storylines and characters.

The Zemeckis trademarks of reaching for low-hanging fruit and leaping at the obvious — in casting, settings, messaging and music — pops up as we hear the pop tunes of each era wafting off the Victrola, the transistor radio or TV (The Beatles on “Ed Sullivan!” How original!).

How much imagination do you figure it took to put Michelle Dockery in the same era and wardrobe she wore for “Downton Abbey?”

As we watch digital zoom-ins on characters and scenic details from the various epochs digitally dissolve back and forth into different eras, we can’t help but notice the script is pretty much shapeless and the dialogue “graphic novel” banal. There’s not a quote-worthy line from it. If you’ve seen and heard the trailers, you’ve tasted the best on offer.

“You know, if you like, you could spend the rest of the night here.” “I could spend the rest of my LIFE here!”

Zemeckis turns his daughter into a nepo baby by casting Zsa Zsa Zemeckis as Margaret and Richard’s teen jamming to The Runaways (“Cherry Bomb”) and getting into “The Jane Fonda Workout.”

Still, there are moments that evoke Welles’ (gimmicky for its day) “Ambersons” nostalgia. But in chopping this story into the vignettes required to tell it, nothing really resonates, touches or for that matter, entertains.

It’s “Gump” rendered in the shallowest strokes, an “evocative” saga with all the depth of Billy Joel’s Boomer anthem, “We Didn’t Start the Fire.”

Zemeckis is always a filmmaker to show his peers “the future” by demonstrating a proof-of-concept of their medium’s latest effects and trickery. We all believe Deloreans can fly and that jetliners can be landed upside down and actors can play younger versions of themselves and need to ensure that their “likeness” is owned by themselves and their heirs, lest some Future Zemeckis digitally manipulate Hanks and Wright and Bettany into, say, porn.

But in a storytelling medium, story comes first. When Zemeckis swings and misses, it’s always because he’s lost focus on that forest in favor of the latest trick for digitizing the trees.

Rating: PG-13, sexual situations, smoking, alcohol abuse, profanity

Cast: Tom Hanks, Robin Wright, Michelle Dockery, Paul Bettany, Kelly Reilly, Nikki Amuka-Bird, Nicholas Pinnock, Joel Oulette, Dannie McCallum, Daniel Betts and Angus Wright

Credits: Directed by Robert Zemeckis, scripted by Eric Roth and Robert Zemeckis, based on a Robert McGuire graphic novel. A Sony Tristar release.

Running time: 1:44

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Movie Review: Liam in Winter — “Absolution”

Any grace notes 70something Liam Neeson brings to his aging and about to become infirm man of action in “Absolution” are pretty much overwhelmed by cliches, loose ends and overreaches in a sloppily pieced-together screenplay.

Character motivation and the hasty and incomplete “tidying up” of a messy life makes this Hans Petter Moland thriller go right off the rails and into the ravine in the slapdash third act. The director of the superb Norwegian vengeance tale “In Order of Disappearance” and its inferior Neeson remake (“Cold Pursuit”) lets his star down, as a promising start tumbles into an inept finish.

Neeson plays an unnamed collector and hunk of muscle for an underworld boss (Ron Perlman) who runs his seedy loan sharking and criminal transport enterprise out of a Boston mattress dealership.

Boss man pairs up the flip-phone-using, ’70 Chevelle SS driver with unfashionably long sideburns geezer with the boss’s Boston College grad son (Daniel Diemer) who wants to learn the family business rather than go to law school. The fake tough guy is supposed to learn from the real one, the fellow a Latin mobster (Javier Molina) nicknames” Jurassic Park”on sight. What our muscle finds himself doing is keeping the kid from messing up — fatally.

But the big man who still takes cash for sparring with up-and-coming boxers at his local gym is losing his memory. He keeps a tiny notebook to jot down simple things — the boss’s name — so that he can recall him.

His “of COURSE I remember” your name/that address/that my son died will be familiar to anyone who has dealt with someone slipping into dementia. We know the diagnosis before the corrupt Oxy peddling doc hints at it, and before the specialist confirms it.

“CTE, chronic traumatic encephalopathy.” Too many concussions — from his old man as a kid, from the ring and from the beatings he’s taken in his work and perhaps in prison — have doomed our unnamed big lug.

Just when he’s met a persistent sex worker (Yolanda Ross) newly smitten with him. Just as he’s ready to re-connect with his estranged daughter (Frankie Shaw). Ok, the diagnosis provides the impetus to the latter, but if he doesn’t tell her why he’s reaching out, will she accept his apologies?

The dialogue is mostly boiled-over “hardboiled,” such as when his grandson (Terrence Pulliam) gets “Sometimes, you have just got to walk away” advice from him.

“Mom said you were in prison. What for?”

Not walking away.”

Neeson’s at an age where the physical demands of the brawls his characters are meant to deliver  give us glimpses of stunt men pitching in. Not a lot of 72 year-olds could knock somebody out with a single blow, although I’d still hate to be on the business end of those Irish fists.

One can wish for as graceful an exit as possible from this post “Taken” revival section of his career. But even if he’s managed his to maintain his persona better than most of his action contemporaries, Neeson really does need to take a step back and question the credibility of playing brawlers as he enters the “fall and break a hip” years that face us all.

We’ll forgive a beloved action star many a sin, but there’s no “Absolution” for swinging your fists and dodging and absorbing blows past the point of credulity. It’s not just football players and boxers who get CTE, after all.

Rating: R, graphic violence, nudity, sexual content, smoking, drug and alcohol abuse

Cast: Liam Neeson, Yolanda Ross, Frankie Shaw, Javier Molina and Ron Perlman.

Credits: Directed by Hans Petter Moland, scripted by Tony Gayton. A Samuel Goldwyn release.

Running time: 1:52

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Movie Review: Church and Politics mix and mingle among the “Godless”

“Godless” is a self-serious drama about the collision of politics and faith with a couple of decent moments and solid lead performances by Ana Ortiz and Harry Lennix going for it.

Working against it are a static staginess in the action — lots of talk and debate, little of it setting off any sparks — a truncated dramatic arc, messiness in the order of events as they’re presented (basically its a long flashback) with an abrupt “atonement” and reconciliation attempt for its finale.

But again, there’s serious subject matter to wrestle with.

Writer (“The Brooklyn Banker”) turned first-time writer-director Michael Ricigliano drops into a world of heavy-handed Catholic politicking as an upstart bishop (Lennix, a big and small screen veteran and regular on “The Black List”) excommunicating a gay marriage-endorsing, abortion-protecting New York governor (Ortiz, of TV’s “Ugly Betty” and “Love, Victor”).

The bishop is new to Brooklyn, and while he sent a letter “warning” to the governor, his Latin, sealed-in-wax edict can’t be read by any non-Catholic living in America in 2024 as anything but religious minority election interference.

Thus our first impression of Bishop Rolland, clumsily avoiding press questions about if “the Vatican is on board with this” as he condemns a Latina Catholic governor who “ceased to live as a Catholic” when she signed off on legislation, is that he’s a fanatic somewhat out of his depth as a political showboater.

Then we get a load of the turmoil in the archioceses, with a bishop (Thomas G. Waites) and archbishop (Dan Grimaldi) weighing whether they have the leverage to make this pay off.

Because popular Gov. Porra seems destined for the White House. And they simple can’t have a pro choice Catholic living on Washington’s Pennsylvania Ave.

Gov. Porra is facing a primary challenge, with her top aide (Patrick Breen) all-in on her drawing a broad coalition and doing “the right thing.” He’s gay, and bringing him along for “negotiations” with the unelected church power elite gives him the film’s only funny line.

“I’m Jewish!”

“So was Jesus,” the governor notes.

“Look what happened to him.

There’s a squishiness to the point of view Ricigliano tries to impart here, a governor who says “I will not legislate my beliefs,” who says “contritition” is “not an option,” but who is conflicted about a bill the screenplay repeatedly refers to using right wing labeling — “late term abortion.”

The denial of Holy Communion to the governor by her parish priest is the jolt such political stunts are meant to deliver.

But a lot of counter-strategies are suggested by both sides, meeting in private, which are merely mentioned and not followed up on. An awful lot of the talk and scene-changing here seems pointless.

And then we get to the long third act meeting of reconciliation between the two, years later, introducing their “real” beliefs and guilty reasoning.

The leads in “Godless” dig into the “idea” for an interesting film. But this feels like the compromised, lost-its-nerve and too-short-to-score-points version.

Rating: R, profanity

Cast: Ana Ortiz, Harry Lennix, with Patrick Breen, Sarah Wharton, Dan Grimaldi and Thomas G. Waites.

Credits: Scripted and directed by Michael Ricigliano. A Without a Net release.

Running time: 1:26

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Movie Preview: J Lo and Bobby Cannavale raise a teen wrestler to be “Unstoppable”

Jharrel Jerome stars as Anthony Robles, an amateur wrestler who fought to fame despite being born with just one leg.

Don Cheadle, Mykelti Williamson and Michael Pena also star in this January release from Amazon/MGM.

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Movie Review: A Lad is Tested, “Lost on a Mountain in Maine”

A piece of Maine woodlands lore comes to the screen in “Lost on a Mountain in Maine,” a sturdy indie retelling of the story of a boy battling long odds against his survival in the dense woods and ever-changing weather of Mount Katahdin.

First-time feature director Andrew Boodhoo Kightlinger wisely chose “docudrama” as the best way to tell this timeworn tale. As a good cast of lesser-known but skilled players act-out the events of long ago, we see snippets of archival interviews with many of those involved when twelve year-old Donn Fendler went missing on a summer hike. That not only underscores the “true story” nature of this survival saga, it immerses us in just how unlikely this all was, and how it transfixed Maine and the nation.

In late Depression/pre-war 1939, dad Donald Fendler (Paul Sparks) spends most of his time on the road for business. But at least his twin sons Donn (Luke David Blumm), Ryan (Griffin Wallace Henkel) and youngest Tommy (Mason Cufari) can look forward to a mid-summer fishing trip.

Until Dad gets news that will shorten this July vacation. An overnight hike to Mount Katahdin is all he has time for. Donn, the hotheaded, rebellious and unpolished twin, takes this news hard. But one night of campfire stories will have to do.

When a cold front moves in halfway into their hike, their father calls it off. Donn isn’t hearing it.

“You want us to be men? Let us be men!”

Dad is a hardcase whose tough love has a dose of “The world’s not going to give them a break. Neither should I.” He sizes up his fuming tween and lets the twins and their guide (Ethan Slater) carry on.

No, “we’re not dressed for this kind of weather.” And the family favorite, brother Ryan may be eager to turn back. But Dad figures they’ll learn lessons about over-confidence and acting-out, if nothing else.

Lightning above the treeline sends the kids into a panic, and as the fog shrouds everything and rain pounds down, defiant Donn gets separated. With temperatures falling and the kid in sneakers and short sleeves, Dad scrambles to get help and puts-off making that call home as long as possible.

“I’ve lost one of our boys.”

True story or not, the narrative here is utterly conventional, with the novelty of this tale largely coming from the period it’s set in. Donn will be sorely tested and called on to remember what his father taught his sons about the woods. He’ll stumble, make mistakes, struggle to deal with insects, heat and injuries and even hallucinate the Penobscot Indian thunder god of the mountain, Pamola at one point.

And Maine and eventually much of America will be transfixed by the story of the missing child and the frantic efforts to find him.

I like the way the film highlights the father’s shame and sense of responsibility for this situation. “Boardwalk Empire” and “House of Cards” alumus Sparks lets us see this in the man’s eyes and slumped shoulders as he stands behind the rangers who send volunteers into the woods.

There’s a stoicism to mother Ruth’s (Caitlin Fitzgerald) response to this, almost as if she saw it coming. When tragedy strikes, she responds the way we’d expect a Depression Era mother to — by going around the men to take charge of a vital part of this search.

Young Blumm, of “Where the Crawdads Sing” and “The King of Staten Island,” manages a moving child actor star turn in the lead role, a defiant kid who misses some ready solutions in his increasingly fraught efforts to “work the problem,” but who remembers just enough of his father’s lessons to “Press on.”

And director Kightlinger leans on those archival interviews to add gravitas to a story that doesn’t surprise, but that almost never serves up a moment that doesn’t move or ring true.

Rating: PG for thematic elements, peril, profanity and some injury images.

Cast: Luke David Blumm, Paul Sparks, Griffin Wallace Henkel, Ethan Slater and Caitlin Fitzgerald.

Credits: Directed by Andrew Boodhoo Kightlinger, scripted by Luke Paradise, based on a memoir by Donn Fendler and Joseph B. Egan. A Blue Fox release.

Running time: 1:38

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Movie Preview: A Chilly Period Piece about a Rescue at Sea that Goes Wrong — “The Damned”

The trailer to this 19th century age-of-sail horror tale plays like an oft-told tale of the sea. A snowy Icelandic fishing village fails in its responbility to its brother mariners, and is “damned” for it.

Odessa Young stars in this Icelandic production.

Looks brilliant.

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Movie Preview: Lucy Hale, Virginia Gardner, “serial killer s—” and a vigorous game of “F Marry Kill”

Bethany Brown, JayR Tinaco (Um, how DO you pronounce that?), Brooke Nevin and Haley Victoria Hunt empty out Hollywood’s supply of Pretty Young Things for this cast.

“Serial dating” features in what turns out to be another “true crime podcast as hook” screenplay. And you guys…it’s set in BOULDER!

“Coming soon?” Maybe Dec.

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Movie Preview” Keira kills and kicks ass — “Black Dove”

This espionage thriller series was created by the fellow who gave us “The Lazarus Project,” and co-stars Ben Whishaw and Tracey Ullman.

Kind of bummed its not a feature film, as I was wondering where Knightley had got off to, and streaming series have so much dead-time and filler in their makeup.

Dec. 5 on Netflix.

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Netflixable? Documentary captures “Martha” Stewart in her Multitudes

At her zenith, Martha Stewart could come off as insufferable, an icy perfectionist who’d never let a hair seem out of place or a place setting pass that didn’t have hand-made touches.

But even her haters had a hunch she got a raw deal from the Bush II Justice Dept., busted and imprisoned for “insider trading,” which she didn’t do, but prosecuted and persecuted by a showboating spotlight hound prosecutor Hillary Clinton could tell you all about.

The average person reading her magazine, watching her TV show and and experiencing her “brand” — perfectionism — showing off her meticuloulsy-kept home in The Hamptons “makes you feel like a failure,” an observer notes.

Yet give the “original” influencer her due. She made the idea that “everyday women” can “bring beauty into their homes” with a little tutelage, encouragement and something Stewart always seems to have — “time” — not just “aspirational” and “marketable,” but approachable and doable.

Yes, she was born beautiful. She long ago lost any grounding sense of self-awareness. But the privilege, dismissive bossiness and curtness that most in her orbit or passing through it experienced? She held herself to higher standards and wasn’t easy on those who didn’t share that.

Stewart didn’t just marry money. She earned fortunes and maybe she lorded it over doubters. And when the “worst possible thing happened,” she took the heat, did the time and staged a late-life third-act “comeback” worthy of Betty White.

A new documentary about her does a decent job of letting us think that’s “a good thing,”

Emmy-winning documentary producer and director R.J. Cutler (“The September Issue,” “Billie Eilish: The World’s a Little Blurry”) gets at the many different phases and faces of “Martha” in his new documentary for Netflix. He even gets under her skin at times as her focuses on her foibles, failed marriages and blinkered hypocrisy.

But I have to say, Stewart comes out of it as more likable than most anyone would expect. When she sat down with her pal-in-privilege Barbara Walters for an early 2000s interview as her empire crumbled thanks to that schadenfreude-filled feeding-frenzy, Stewart isn’t even the most insufferable woman in that two-shot.

She shares stories of her less-than-posh Nutley, New Jersey childhood, crediting a father who didn’t show her much that wasn’t disdain with teaching her and her five siblings to garden and a mother who wasn’t all that affectionate herself for teaching young Martha Kostyra to cook.

We get frank discussions of her ideas of “love” and “fidelity,” and a taste of her West Virginia prison diary, what she did with her time when forced to give up micromanaging for five months.

Cutler’s shooting strategy here has every sibling, employee, friend and “ex-friend” who speaks about Stewart heard on tape, not seen interviewed on camera. That’s reserved for Herself. Production-savvy Stewart shows impatience with some of the questions, lines of questioning and testily offers her “solution” for the tedium of that.

“Take it out of the letters,” she snaps, as she’d given Cutler unprecedented access to her story and her archives, including letters to her ex, etc.

Cutler uses interviews, family photos and “modeling” shots from her youth and decades and decades of footage of her decades on TV, including unflattering outtakes, as well as painted recreations of the dismissals of her “Martha Stewart Living” magazine pitch, her prosecution and trial to create this just-intimate-enough portrait.

And as the warts and all image emerges, with her surgically-polished profile never breaking a sweat, we still can’t help but get a kick out of her Bieber-Snoop fed revival. Because as much as her comeuppance seemed destined, that “comeback” makes her story as American as they come.

Rating: R, profanity, a little skin

Cast: Martha Stewart, archival footage of Barbara Walters, David Letterman, etc., and the voices of Snoop Dogg, Alexis Stewart, many others

Credits: Directed by R.J. Cutler. A Netflix release.

Running time: 1:55

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Movie Review: Reiser and Sarandon and Shameik take bowling into “The Gutter” in this farce

A just-clever-enough conceit and generally cheerful performances are almost enough to put over “The Gutter,” a coarse and comically crude bowling farce featuring an Oscar winner and a Black bowler who just might take over “the whitest sport” while no one is watching.

Shameik Moore brings Kevin-Hart-selling-something-on-TV energy as Walt, a self-absorbed and perpetually unemployed dope who finds himself and his calling when he takes the job spraying roach killer into the shoes at the tumbledown alley known as AlleyCatz Lanes.

And no less than Susan Sarandon, well-preserved and everybody’s idea of the perfect villain but no one’s idea of a convincing bowler, is summoned to play Linda Curson, a legend of the lanes who comes out of retirement to make sure this pipsqueak savant doesn’t break her long-standing records.

D’Arcy Carden of TV’s “The Good Place,” “Barry” and “A League of Their Own” plays the ex-pro/alcoholic washout who takes an interest in “training” our champion-to-be.

And sibling filmmakers Isaiah and Yassir Lester talked Jackée Harry into playing the owner of the aged alley, Kim Fields to play Walt’s broke momma and Paul Reiser to be the venerable TV face and voice of SLOB, the Super League of Bowling for their comedy.

The idea was to vamp on “Kingpin,” throw a lot of talented folks telling PG-to-R-rated jokes against the wall and see what sticks. Not enough does, but there are scattered laughs, even if the Lesters lost their nerve about how far “out there” to take this thing.

Walt is dopey enough to manically overshare his many firings in his job interview with Mozell (Henry), misguided enough to figure he can sex his way into the gig.

“This is how you get a job…in the movies that I watch!”

But she’s desperate — for an employee, not sex. And he’s down for any gig where he can go shirtless.

It’s when he first picks up a ball that his “bowling savant” skills become obvious. Rolled behind his back, over his shoulder or all the way from the concession stand, Walt scores strikes.

That sobers up Skunk (Carden) just long enough to take an interest. She sees the novelty of it all.

“There hasn’t been a Black pro (bowler) since…”

And since Mozell’s about to lose AlleyCatz, “an institution in the Black community,” to code violations, everybody could use the prize money.

Walt, shirted or shirtless and wearing “Porn Hub” stickers in the hope of landing sponsors, charges into the pro bowling circuit — Indianapolis to Tulsa to Houston to Atlanta — with Skunk as his cheerleader/”coach.”

He has a hard time selling the world on his “stage name” for the tour — “Nygga Thyme.” Maybe one of his catch phrases will catch on.

“It’s Walt LIQUOR time!”

But we know he’s never going to win over Linda Curson, or Angelo (Reiser), the over-the-hill insult-comic TV announcer, who refers to him as “the Michael B. Jordan of bowling.”

The whole funny people-given-“funny” characters and lines strategy here doesn’t really land, although a few of the jokes do.

“I wanna wrestle with that dude from ‘Dune,’ Timothee Chalamet. Just to see…what happens.

Moore and Carden’s chemistry is tentative, and the script teeters between going gonzo and raunchy and timidly reaching for PG-13. Pretty much everybody here has been brassier in other roles and other films.

You can pull for Walt/Moore, who starred in “Dope” and who gives voice to the animated “Spiderverse” movies. You can hope the Lesters get their shot at becoming “The New Farrelly Brothers.”

But the characters are never more than caricatures, the set-up is too conventional and the payoff doesn’t pay off at all. As for the jokes? Too many are awaiting that next rewrite or polish. But not this one.

“And now, just like racism in America, this is over.”

Rating: unrated, sexual humor, profanity and smoking

Cast: Shameik Moore, D’Arcy Carden, Jackée Harry, Kim Fields, Paul Reiser and Susan Sarandon

Credits: Directed by Isaiah Lester and Yassir Lester, scripted by Yassir Lester. A Magnolia release.

Running time: 1:32

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