Sunday, February 24, 2008

2007: In film

In a nutshell, the films of 2007. Or most of it. 2007 was a great year at the movies, or in my case, it was a year at the bootleg stalls. You really think you can get these films anywhere else? I found it hard to keep up writing in my film blog because of the increasing frequency by which I purchase and watch the pirated DVD copies. I plan to write about my faves soon, since there are still a handful I haven't seen yet.

The Oscars will be tomorrow and since the previous week's slew of events did not permit me to write a decent entry about it much less have time to actually ponder on my bets (which I did last year), I want you to see this video clip made by one of the AwardsDaily forum members. Do click. If you've seen most of the 2007 offerings, you'll fell in love with the montage. Though it missed Control, a movie that will fall on my 2007 Top 5, the editing was great job.

(Oh fuck this. Been trying to embed the fucking thing for 30 mins. Please just click the poster.)

Sunday, February 10, 2008

There will be blood

There Will Be Blood, the new film from Paul Thomas Anderson which stars the accolade-reaping Daniel Day Lewis, is touted as one of the greatest cinematic achievements of 2007, or even of the last decade, as critics would like to point out.

And while I have yet to see actual bloodshed from the film, which I believe would not reach theatres this side of the world, save for the usually reliable bootleg copies, I would have to wallow on the current gorefest courtesy of the new Tim Burton's throat-slashing anti-hero Sweeney Todd which turned out to be not really icky and deplorable but actually wickedly funny and immensely enjoyable.

I haven't heard any of Stephen Sondheim's songs and boy must I admit that it is better than most of the famous well-loved musicals we are familiar with. I particularly liked No Place like London and Not While I'm Around. Johnny Depp is no Phantom of the Opera but I guess you won't need such a sweeping voice when you're obsessed with revenge to the extent of bleeding the life out of your victims. Helena Bonham Carter is brilliant as the obsessed Mrs. Lovett and watch out for Sascha Baron Cohen's Mr. Pirelli. With Alan Rickman and Timothy Spall, the dark and gloomy London streets feel like Diagon Alley.

Tim Burton has achieved another level of creepiness with this one, though I can barely remember what it was like seeing Edward Scissorhands or Beetlejuice. Collaborating for the longest time with Johnny Depp I think has really served both right. I think this is the first time Burton is directing a stage musical adaptation but it's so devilishly good I want to slash the throat of everybody inside the theatre, which is barely full. There was this girl behind me who doesn't know any expression except ewww, even if its grossly inappropriate. And since the movie is replete with that kind of stimulus, you can just imagine how furious I became. There was this obnoxious guy who was singing so loudly everybody was like staring at him. I was tempted to throw the softdrink cup to the asshole to shut him up.

When I walked out of the cinemahouse, I realized that barbers are now one of those people you'd definitely wouldn't want to piss off.

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