divergent witches

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We saw a film at the cinema yesterday. It was a very long film, which seemed to flit between a New England of the past and a Chicago of the future. A very feisty, pure girl was keen to act demurely when in the presence of her father {from the game, Finchy, or not Finchy?} yet spent lots of time clambouring up broken buildings when the mood begat her. A lot of people died, and it was interesting to note that future humanity will spill far less blood than past humanity, even when their wounds are more severe. In fact, if the film is true, future humanity will spill absolutely no blood, not a single drop, when fatal injuries are received. Black Phillip was a spooky old goat, who kept changing into a chap wearing a suit and living the high-life in a penthouse of beauty, whilst his minions lived a low-life of coarse blankets and shared bunks. The end of the film brought with it chaos, as the witches danced ritualistically amongst the burning embers of a fractured society. And I have no idea what happened to the twins. This may have been two films, but we saw them one straight after the other. In my head they have therefore become intertwined, for ever and eternity.