Saturday, July 25, 2009

The female horse.

Either the combination of vodka and gin or barrels of pulang kabayo would in no time unearth demons of bygone years. Fuck that female horse, eh? Guys, since when did we last saw each other? I hope this will turn out to be an extinguished episode in a telenovela that never should have been aired. Let's just drink and be wasted.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

It has got to come.

If I was gonna do a version of Sam Cooke's classic, I would have to name it A Change HAS GOT to come. Damn, it's been a long time comin'.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

trailer truck

It hasn't really occurred to me but an effective indicator of how your life is being busied up by work is by the amount of trailers that you've missed premiered online. As you know, new trailers are being churned out like crazy online, then you realize there's really a ton of movies being churned out every year. Sus! Imagine living in India and thinking they would really release 500 trailers. To sum the copious trailers I just saw in one sitting while doing overtime work on a friggin' Sunday, I can say vampires, zombies and toilet humour.

Have you seen the trailer for the new Apatow bromance? Funny as hell, you might even rekindle some punch-drunk love for Adam Sandler here and Eric Bana is hilarious in his accent. Oh and throw in some Seth Rogen please. I'm looking forward to seeing Funny People. And though I can sniff some Charlie Kaufman-ish shticks, I would want to see Paul Giamatti in Cold Souls. Other comedies looks swell too, like Couples Retreat and Ricky Gervais' The Invention of Lying.

When what seemed to be the dramatic twist in the film is revealed to me, I said, Wha? ABS has thought it first via the Kim-Gerald soap. But then I would want to see a famished Toby Maguire outside Spidey's suit, with Jake Gylenhaal and Natalie Portman in Jim Sheridan's new film, Brothers. I'm really, really, really excited of Moon, which made waves in Sundance and Tribeca. I can see hints of Andrei Tarkovsky's Solaris and yeah, throw in some 2001: A Space Odyssey feel in there too. After that bland Choke, Sam Rockwell looks promising in this one.

Just saw Dead Snow this afternoon and boy was it campy. But it's fun. If my 6 and 8-year old bros were laughing at the dismemberment, then I think it's really harmless. If you like intestines for starters, then this schlocky gorefest may just be for you. Also saw Departures the other night. You know the one whose director made a funny speech at the Oscar, the one which beat the anticipated Waltz with Bashir. Simple, doesn't break new ground though but looks gorgeous enough for Academy voters. A blend of comic and melodramatic touches. What's best though is we take a glimpse in a not-so familiar Japanese tradition. It's about death but then it's about life too, as simple as that.

I forgot to talk about Earth, the BBC documentary which is a staggering and painstaking work of art and beauty. If it wasn't intentional, it could be the docu capping An Inconvenient Truth and The 11th Hour. While the two were mostly about scientific and practical approaches, Earth cuts down to the basic equation of all. You have to see it. Also saw The Hurt Locker, which I've been dying to see and which to my surprise scored one of the most highest critic ratings when I checked RT and Metacritic. What can I say but to re-echo what LA Times critic A.O. Scott said, "If it is not the best action movie this summer, I'll blow up my car!" I haven't seen Public Enemies yet, but hands down, this has got to be one of the year's best in action, or even the year's best, period. Kathryn Bigelow gives the guys a run for their war movies, take that. The camera work, editing, acting (Jeremy Renner in an unexpectedly subtle yet powerful performance) is totally swell. If you check you breathing or heartbeat and it's not pulsating like crazy, you're not human.

Friday, July 10, 2009

von trier and genital clipping

I have to admit that I haven't seen Dancer in the Dark, or Dogville, perhaps two of Lars Von Trier's famous films. Though I have The Idiots, I haven't really seen it in full, just jumping from one scene to next, most of which are graphic copulation of retards. I'm looking forward to Antichrist though. No, Brillante Mendoza's Kinatay failed to really make a hoopla over at Cannes last May, encompassed by the flesh-boring, genital-clipping, ball-crushing craziness that is Antichrist. I'd prolly jump in glee when I see it in bootleg, then people would dart fearsome stares at me when they know it's over a bootleg copy of the film. A friend of mine, who saw in Copenhagen, said that she really didn't cringe at the supposed controversial scenes. It won't be shown here, that I'm sure, or else it won't be flesh-boring, genital-clipping, ball-crushing anymore.

Got this photo via the film's site. Conjures up images from NIN's The Perfect Drug music video. Creepily good, isn't it?

Sunday, July 05, 2009

Jack-o

Young Michael on the cover of the recent Newsweek.
Hasn't so much devastated me, at least not having that urge to play his songs and download his videos, or worse horribly mimicking his moves and screeching falsettos. I did though, the screech, only to my colleague’s fervent request, while watching a recent spate of news via hotel cable in Pagadian. MTV has been showing his videos as well. After going back to Pagadian after a weeklong sun’s exposure courtesy of airport runways and national roads being rehabbed, we drank a couple of beers while listening to an old duo singing old songs (it’s free anyway). During the band’s break, Jacko’s old videos played incessantly. The crowd seemed to be mesmerized. I bet some of them don’t even remember where the trademark moves come from. The singing came back just in time to cut off Thriller. So we left.

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