Friday, November 10, 2006

arrested development

I am so waiting for payday.

Last night, I accompanied my friend who just flew to Pampanga early this morning for a call center work there. While walking along the 2nd floor of Victoria we passed by a pirated DVD store who was playing a Jackie Chan movie in their TV set. I saw DVD copies of the The Queen (an early Oscar favorite) and a slew of movies that are yet to be shown here like The Covenant and World Trade Center. But what delighted me was finding a copy of Lost Seasons 1 and 2 and Arrested Development Seasons 1 to 3. Im such a huge fan of these shows though I do not have the luxury of watching it all the time, especially AD which is on cable. I used to download the latter's some episodes and use to catch it on cable when I'm in a hotel during travels. I saw the exact DVD cover when I was gallivanting the Jones Circle in Cebu, but I just couldn't shed off my money because I did not bring any extra aside from the allowance. Luckily, it's here now in some pirated CD haven.

I recall this one funny episode (after all, what is not?) wherein one character Tobias Funke (To-ba-yas Fyunk-kay) is being pounced on by her materialistic bitch of a wife (Portia de Rossi) on what a dumbass he is for giving up a job to pursue his acting career. The next scene was cut to a close-up of Tobias' business card. He had two professions analyst (of what?) and therapist but which he combined to form as AnalRapist. Now, go figure. I laughed my heart out till tears were shed.

I think what made AD such a cult classic in the US, aside from the uproariously funny narrative (the narration courtesy of Ron Howard) without so much as to lifting a finger, is the unconventional use of camera and editing style. The episodes are densed with brief flashbacks. Most of the scenes are shot hand-held, giving it documentary-feel. It's like chronicling the mishaps of an American family who has only one member whose mind has not gone totally deranged. Despite being Emmy-awarded and critically-acclaimed (America has so much love for the inane, asshole attitude -- look at the success of the Jackass series both TV and movies, and recently the movie Borat, whose subtitle is enough to lure you into curiousity -- Cultural Learnings of America for the Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan -- rottentomatoes.com even gave it 96% FRESH rating), I've read in a mag that it was axed for some time.

I can't help but to allude to yet another example -- two of them actually -- which made me wonder if tackling dysfunctionalism in America in TV and movies is really their cup of tea. Specifically, dysfunctional families. Perhaps, it can be attributed to the fact the American Beauty and the cult HBO series Six Feet Under is under the helm of the same writer (Oscar Winner Alan Ball). AB is one of my all time favorite movies and Kevin Spacey is just so fuckin' awesome in every scene, with his nonchalant no-bullshit attitude. There's this one hilarious scene in the shower and he says "Look at me. A 40 yr old man (or something like that) masturbating in the shower. This is the high point of my day. Everything's downhill from here."

The dark theme and writing was carried on in SFU, and this time the show's eccentricities is highlighted in the family-run business of funeral services. I only happen to wath the first three episodes so I can't speak so much about the development of the narrative. But still, basing on those episodes alone, the theme pretty much centers on a dysfunctional family's attempt at being normal.

Which makes me think. Is America's cloak of superficiality hiding the arrested development of even its own families? Or perhaps is it just simply telling us that despite the milk and honey, their world is not so close to perfect?

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Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family, Choose a f—king big television. Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed-interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose a three piece suit on hire purchased in a range of f—king fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the f—k you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing f—king junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, f—ked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose a future. Choose life . . . But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin’ else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you’ve got heroin?

Renton, Trainspotting