Teen turned Queen (to-be)

Queen to-be means Princess, and the Princess in question refers to Anne Hathaway, aptly named Mia in The Princess Diaries. MIA, before she came along, meant Missing In Action, and that might sum up the flaws of this movie; missing in action and motivation.
The movie jumped around a lot, and not always from important bit to important bit. There was plenty, too many, scenes that were uncalled for. A shining example would be the whole dinner scene where Mia sets fire to an arm, gets the Genovean Prime Minister and his wife to mimick her mouthfreeze and trips the drunk whats-his-face man sitting next to her. So she made a fool of herself, was that the point? That was too long a scene to waste on showing what has been constantly established throughout the show - that she's clumsy and uncouth. The dinner scene also manifests one of my biggest gripes with the movie. What was the point of having those bizarre characters like the Japanese/ Chinese man who just says 'No' and laughs at nothing? And what was Jeremiah the red head pick-a-card magician for - except as an impetus for Mia to smear Mandy Moore's cheerleading outfit? And seriously, couldn't the director come up with a better form of revenge than dirtying her clothes?
As far as chick flicks go, this is definitely one of the reasons people smirk when you say you like chick flicks. The Princess Diaries was fun enough, but lacked a wholesome understanding of the material and characters in the movie. Julie Andrews might have upped the show a notch if they didn't have her knighting two buffoons under the Genova Order of the Rose with an emergency brake. That act was utterly lacking in any and all sense and completely moronic. That act was supposed to be the action that humanizes Julie Andrews' cool character and shows audiences that, oh! she has a softer side after all. But all it really accomplished was to make me roll my eyes and turn away wondering why I wanted to watch the movie in the first place.
But now it seems I didn't like The Princess Diaries, which isn't true. After all, I would be a bloody hypocrite if all I did was to criticize the movie when I admitted that this wasn't the first time I've watched it. I'm upset that it wasn't a better movie, and even more disappointed when the sequel didn't improve. A sequel is almost like a second chance to get things right if you didn't in the first (look how the Harry Potter series screwed that up) and the producers completely wasted that chance with Princess Diaries 2. The only reason the sequel was made was thanks to Anne Hathaway, who was very 'watchable' in her debut in this first Princess Diaries. I don't think she was outstanding or brilliant but hey, the awards thought otherwise. I enjoyed her Ella Enchanted performance much, much more. But that movie had rather decent source material - I actually read the book.
So maybe the flaws of The Princess Diaries lie within the source material, that is, Meg Cabot's book. I haven't read her stuff but as far as my knowledge of most chick lit goes, they can really numb any intelligent molecule in your brain sometimes. So maybe it wasn't the director's fault that he chose weird scenes to place weird people saying and doing meaningless things, maybe he chose the best scenes that the book offered. If that's the case, I'm not reading the book.
At any rate, I took away a few things from this movie; mostly quotes that the movie took from elsewhere - "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent" (Eleanor Roosevelt) and this long one "Courage is not the absence of fear but rather the judgment that something is more important than fear. The brave may not live forever but the cautious do not live at all." from Mia's deceased father Crown Prince Eduard Christoff Philippe - that's another long one so let's not go there.
I think I'll go watch Ella Enchanted now.

When I watched Harry meet Sally...

...I remember (because I forgot) why this is the classic it is known to be. I also remembered where I got it into my head that men and women can't be friends. And, I will always remember the most memorable line (for me) in the show. "Charlie Chaplin had babies when he was seventy-three!"

"Yeah but he couldn't pick them up."

Harry was lucky to get that line. In fact, he got almost all the good lines in the movie. But he deserved to get them. His delivery was perfect- in timing, tone, conviction. He convinced me that he sprouted those incredible one-liners all his life. And of course, where would he be without that special someone to aggravate with his incessant speech? Sally was good at that - getting aggravated, and she was even better at aggravating, though she had intention to do so, unlike Harry. But the two of them together was...wonderful and I wouldn't imagine any other pair of actors doing a better job. Their natural affinity is something real life couples can only hope to possess.
You don't need me to tell you to watch this show. By now, if you haven't, you oughta be ashamed. You've been missing out on the perfect romantic comedy - one of the few in existence today.

The Girl Who took the leap into my heart

I can't decide whether I like bittersweet endings, like this one in The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, or not. When a fantastical magical adventure unfolds into a subtle first romance for the heroine and the hero, I cannot, for the life of me, choose an ending with their innocent faithful promises that they will be together in the future, or an ending with them getting together! The problem with the latter is how obviously trite it is - which spoils the whole fantasy of it all. But the problem I have with ending on the note of deep yearning to be together in the future (beyond the movie) is that I yearn as much as the characters do, for them to get together, and it just breaks my heart.
Yes so I cried watching The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, I'd like to know which romantic fool didn't, and I congratulate those who successfully resisted the tears. But I liked crying at the utterly sentimental and earth shattering moment when Chiaki (hero) pulls Makoto (heroine) close and makes his promise to her. I want a poster of that moment to always remind me how sweetly beautiful this film is.
This film was good at that - being sweet and innocent, just like that first taste of love we all had. You will be transported back to the good ol' days at school, where the greatest heartache was watching that handsome boy with the 'tao' attitude walk up to another girl. The gentle mood captured in the film is akin to that of walking through a park on a summery day with someone you want, close to you.
That is how the movie gets away with its lack of logic in its time-travelling explanations. The theories of time-travelling weren't elaborated, they weren't investigated, much. But you don't really care. You don't feel a burning need to know the science and math of the hows - you just want to see the consequences.
Consequence is very much the focus of this animated film; consequence of decisions when you have certain powers; to be precisely precise - the consequences of playing with time.
Do NOT expect a Butterfly Effect movie - and thank heavens for that - because no matter how much Butterfly Effect was a tolerable enough movie, this film is so much more intimate and grounded in the naivete of one young girl's handling of the people in the world around her. As she learns of the clash between reality and her impractical beliefs in innocence. she gradually builds up her courage to take the one leap she had never dared to: the leap into the realm of love.
Love drives this film - love of the characters for the familiar faces they bring to mind, love of the world that, like our own, possessed that bit of magic for some to stumble upon, or those brave enough to seek it. And love, in its purest form shared between two people who believe, and have faith.
If you've run low on your own supply of faith in the miracle called love, or you just want to be reminded again what it was like to fall for the first time, then take a leap with The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, and be ready to fall, all over again.

What a Creep

The creep in Creep is a real mean baddie with a penchant for sharp objects caught in vital organs in the human body. This horror / thriller flick is a great squealer and stomach-churner, with its many moments of splashing blood and staring into the face of an inhuman fiendish grey-skinned, hunchbacked deformed... thing. Kudos to the make up and costume people of Creep! Even upclose, the obvious wrinkles in the skin suit on the actor could very well be taken to be real loose skin hanging off the... thing.
Creep worked because one fear of every person who has taken the subway, underground, metro, MRT, etc before is that something lurks down in those tunnels. Something that will find you when you close your eyes and miss the last train home. Something that is ugly, that likes meat and blood, and will drag you into the foul pits of the city - not hell, but close - the sewers.
Another reason why Creep was so great was its witty dialogue and natural cast. They may have been acting as themselves for all I know, because that's what it felt like. Oh and the inclusion of the Irish man is so clever because everyone knows, having an Irish or Scottish accent in your film is sure to makes things fun. It did. I really really liked the irishman, for many reasons; one of them being his devotion to his fellow homeless partner and his foolhardiness to go running off after a blood trail into unknown depths.
The only problem I have with Creep is its ending! It was a nice touch to end on a bittersweet-ish, sardonic kind of note, but it left you hanging and unsure. It was hinted at briefly that the creep was one of the mutated babies born and bred in the underground labs, but there was so much more that could have been done to mine this back story. Why were there labs underground? Who was the doctor? Did he create or simply help birth these creatures? Because if it was the latter, can you imagine what kind of statement could be made about the city and how poor mothers are forced to go underground to birth their pitiful deformed babies and leave them there to rot? Very importantly, are there more? After all, there were a number of cribs and a wealth of tunnels that could harbour these dark creatures.
At any rate, Creep did well in engaging, frightening and grossing you out. It could have gone one step further to haunt you, if the movie had learnt from the creep who struggled to eke out its existence unlike his bottled, unborn brothers and sisters. Creep, the movie, bottled itself in nice and tight: incomplete but a nice specimen to put on display and appreciate every now and then.

Desolation tones

'Desolation Jones' is aptly named. A graphic novel tracing the mission of Agent Jones - sole survivor (to date) of the Desolation Test now turned community agent - to recover lost Hilter porn videos for a wheelchair bound retired Colonel, it is cadaverous as it is treacherous. As the plot twists through dark alleys and shadows expose their true identity, the torrid activities of secret agencies and their agents are revealed. Creating an L.A teeming with more sordid activity than we think, with skies greyer than the wrinkled paper-excuse-for-skin that hangs on Jones' tortured body, and with bartards more yellow than Jones' bestial eyes, writer Warren Ellis gives more than just a gripping narrative. He prods at the idea of humanity just as those scientists prodded and poked Jones' body when he was retired from the secret force due to inability. However, his prodding and poking birthed little due to insufficient exploration. Insufficiency is the pitfall of this novel, because even its plot was really just a simple simple story that takes unnecessary turns and bends. The characters, save for Jones and one 'gamely' prostitute, were insufficiently developed and served as fodder for Jones' trigger-happy instincts at the end.
The dialogue is macabre and enjoys being such. The art is of the same nature, and completely indulgent in dispensing blood. Artist J.H Williams III hides gore behind a veil so well you actually enjoy the fight scenes. Blood seems to be a fitting muse for Williams, judging from the way he uses it so artfully. And who would think one who knew the intimate ways of manipulating blood into an artist tool would draw angels as beautifully as he did? The angels Williams plucked out of the visions of Jones' deranged mind, and put in full glory of colour and splendour as they rise above L.A's sewers and waters to heights unattainable, inspire hope in your soul. Hope for Jones' desolate and lost soul to be redeemed and revived to meaning.
Desolation Jones reminds me of Preacher, but only as a foetus with the potential to grow into the fully-developed brainchild that Preacher is.

10 things I love about...

1. Julia Stiles' most memorable role, so far, as the most enviable of shrews (for her male squeeze), oozing white hot sarcasm wrapped in her razor sharp wit.

2. Features many many Heath Ledger toothpaste commercial smiles.

3. Heath Ledger's rendition of 'I love you baby' rewrites the 'how-to-be-romantic' book, among other moves.

4. Brilliant, apt and completely indulgently fun soundtrack. Thanks in large to the classily-named 'Letters to Cleo'.

5. Paint Ball parks have never looked more tempting for romantic foreplay, especially if we all get to share that kiss with Ledger.

6. The coolest Lit teacher cum rapper ever.

7. Bianca's (Larisa Oleynik) face off with Joey 'Eat-me' Donner (Andrew Keegan) at prom - little victory for the feminist movement.

8. One of the most fun, enjoyable, Shakespeare inspired scripts.

9. Some of the best undercutting comedic moments in chick flick history.

10. It's not everyday you find a movie that will lift your day no matter how often you watch it.

Never(any)where

True to Mike Carey style, from my experience with Lucifer, this graphic novel adapted from Neil Gaiman's novel takes you on a journey of learning through London Below. Carey weaves a spell of magical realism as the world of London Below creeps in and out of London Above.

Door, the heroine, escapes into London Above from pursuers who were at first, faceless and nameless to her. She pleads for help from Londoner (Above) Richard Mayhew, who takes his first-ever initiative and decides to help. This decision drags him into the in-between realm caught between the two Londons where London Above does not see or recognise him, and London Below spurns him. In a bid to retrieve his life in London Above, he follows Door on her quest to avenge her family, who was killed by those nameless, faceless pursuers of hers at the start. On the way, they encounter death, battle with The Beast, fight with their inner demons and are double crossed, but behold the twist - Door knew all along she was walking into a trap and managed to trick the mastermind villian to his end.

In some ways, the plot of this graphic novel shadows Constantine the movie (Keanu Reeves) - the depressive would-be hero character and the twist in the identity of the villan share uncanny similarities to the movie.

I have yet to read Gaiman's novel, but I can bet that this graphic adaptation is skimming on the details that I know Gaiman's work to contain. This 'Neverwhere' was curt and short on the nuances that would complete the portraits of these worlds which would allow the reader to be fully transported into the magical reality in the story. Perhaps this read would be best with prior knowledge of Gaiman's original novel, but for me, the best is to follow up on that.

Still, Carey's 'Neverwhere' is interesting enough to enrapture you for the course of the adventure Door and Mayhew face, but once over, it is not likely to stay anywhere in your memory.

It all adds up, at Worlds' End

Ay matey, it all comes together in the third and final segment of the Pirates of the Caribbean ride - At Worlds' End. The show gets better with hindsight than upon your first viewing of it, so buy the DVD set and watch it at your pleasure, and to heighten the experience, watch it following 'Dead Man's Chest'.
That's what I did - I watched the second of the Pirates of the Caribbean before heading to the cinemas to catch the finale. Boy did that help. See, there is so much happening in the second that is all setting up to the third movie and our memories are weak, especially for the fine details that the creators of the Pirates of the Caribbean created.
In 'At Worlds' End', the East India Company continues on its quest for world domination. Championing its cause is the meticulous and scheming businessman Lord Beckett. A gripping, albeit tad contrived, opening scene of the execution of pirates and pirate-associates is all you need to understand the horror of the EIC's regime. To battle their takeover, or so it seems at first, Barbossa, Turner, Swann and Tia Dalma team up with the Black Pearl's crew to travel to Davy Jones' locker where all men who die at sea go, and where Jack Sparrow is. To do this, they first head to the lazy fishing village and port of Singapore to 'borrow' a ship, crew and navigational charts from pirate lord Sao Feng (special appearance by Chow Yun-Fatt!). By hook and crook, they manage that and set sail for Worlds' End.
The straightforward storyline ends here; the plot thickens, and we're talking deep thickening. Being pirates, it's 'each man for himself' so it is no surprise Barbossa, Turner, Swann, Dalma and Sparrow each have their own agendas, some of which conflict. Thus, what ensues is a movie layered with internal moral dilemmas (Sparrow's), conflicting interests between love and piety (Turner's), betrayals - double and triple-crossing ones (everyone's), love-hate relationships between man and goddess (guess)... It's a lot to take in.
It is overwhelming at first sight. So the most you can probably get out of it is enjoy the mind-blowing ship battles, pirate conferences (which resemble Taiwan political meetings), and laugh at the comedic moments (there are many) while trying to make some sense of all the intertwining plots. In the end, it all adds up when you piece it altogether, just like how the pirate lords put all their pieces of eight together. When that happens, you will marvel at how all loose ends are tied.
Strangely enough, I did not enjoy the wit of 'witty Jack Sparrow' as much as I did in the first two installments of the Pirates of the Caribbean. For this, I find fault with the script writer's obsession with writing lines especially for Sparrow's character - a flaw which appeared in the previous installment already, what with the pseudo-absurdist lines given to Sparrow (Depp). Swann and Turner (Knightley and Bloom) win you over with their pirating efforts and bittersweet tale of romance. Barbossa (Rush) is a thoroughly charming mad captain and might I dare say he shared the spotlight with Depp. Bill Nighy milked his character Davy Jones for all he's worth, putting up an emotionally-stirring performance that makes your heart go out to the Captain of the Flying Dutchman, tentacles and all. The animators, by the way, deserve much credit for the amazing realness and naturalness of Jones' tentacle movement, among the other visual feats of the movie.
Epic to the core, 'Pirates of the Caribbean: At Worlds' End' does not come across as Hollywood Blockbuster, though it has all the makings of one, for one key reason: It has uncompromising vision which does not give in or bend to the audience's wishes. The movie knew what it wanted to do, knew how to do it well, and did. Hats off to director Gore Verbinski for crafting this spectacular closing installment to a wonderful trilogy.
The Pirates of the Caribbean brought us on a thrill ride and didn't mind how much it tossed and bruised us as it turned many a corner and swooshed over speed bumps. Some of us may fall out half way through the ride, some who finish it probably won't stomach it, but for those who do, we walk away knowing it was a hell of a ride.
And we'll probably ride it again. And again.

No Baby Blues with Becky Bloomwood

It is amazing how Kinsella can sell the same recipe, by just tweaking the ingredients a little, over and over again without diminishing the wonder, fantasy and delight of the first taste of Shopaholic. Even for this fourth round. No baby blues in this Bloomin' mummy that's for sure!

28 times later

One ought to be sick of seeing bloodshot-eyed human-turned-zombies running around, biting and clawing and chasing non bloodshot-eyed human-turned zombies into bloodsho - Aw, don't make me say it.

Anyway, one ought to get sick and tired of the same old zombie tricks, but not in this movie.

'28 Weeks Later' knows how to frighten and grip you in its unrelenting claws. Its masterful opening scene both gives and takes away that flicker of hope and peace. This serves as a precursor to the fate of the supposed serenity that the U.S army is trying to re-establish. Its beginning note promises suspense, emotional turbulence and gore. Then the movie continues to deliver, until it meets its end, the way most zombies (as well as zombie flicks) do - by passing it on. In other words, 28 Weeks Later could very well turn into 28 Centuries Later.

The film toys well with your mind - a commendable feat considering it uses perfectly traditional scare tactics. Credit thus goes to the unquestionably apt pacing of the movie, guided along smoothly by the superbly appropriate soundtrack, which is actually mostly reused from ancestor movie 28 Days Later.

There were two outstanding scenes in the movie - you know the opening 10 minutes is one, and the other is the subway scene. (Of course it had to be the underground tunnel scene!) This is an amazing visualization of the director and cinematographer's mental image of exploring the Underground using infra-red googles that make even the regular-eyed people terrifying as hell. In the darkness, you know something lurks - you know it you feel it, but you can't see it, until it's too late. That's all I'm going to describe - go watch the film at least for that scene.

As with its predecessor, 28 Weeks Later weaves in social commentary into the movie - I was told part of the movie was meant to parallel the Iraqi situation. I believe it's indeniable that the portrayal of the military presence and actions make meaningful points about situations in the real world. The morality of military decisions is also another bone of contention in the film.

A true blue thriller / horror (and to rare macabre minds, a comedy), 28 Weeks Later will definitely have you on the edge of your seat, or in my case - buried deep into it, except when you want to throw popcorn at the screen for the ending.

the same Wave over and over again

When searching for an image to go with this light review, two words caught my eye - "too Vague?"

My sentiments as well.

Nouvelle Vague - New Wave or Bossa Nova translated in English and Portuguese respectively, questions how deep is your love in their thirteenth album that is eponymously named. Truly, you have to explore just how much you love them if you want to buy this album.

'A hypnotic opening' - 'a bravura opener' - is its strongest musical appeal. David Sheppard's devoted odes to each song is another winning feature of the album - his words melt into poetic romantizing that flows with the music.

The attraction of Nouvelle Vague, as always, lies in its intricate melodies achieved by 'stripping back arrangements to acoustic instruments'. It gets right down to the quiet souls that whisper to us from underneath the noise of the original songs - Nouvelle Vague specializes in covers. Hypnosis is close to describing the state one achieves when listening to the album.

And perhaps it is hypnosis that clouds your mind and beguiles you into hearing one similar voice, despite the album writing declaring that there are 8 different female vocals. The voices all blend together and sound like they originate from the same sound box, albeit in variations of tone and style. Perhaps it is these delicate differences that one must commit to listening out for, and wherein the allure of Nouvelle Vauge lies.

Individually, the songs do offer a poignant and refreshing take to the old tunes, such that the experience of this album is akin to a spiritual one. But I have never been one for spiritualization.

Too vague, indeed, for me.

be The Man - do the right thing

...and cross dress because it gets you a hot guy like Duke (Channing Tatum)! 'She's the Man' would do poorly to call itself a modern adaptation of Shakespeare's Twelveth Night, because it really would infuriate, as many such modern adaptations of Shakespeare's works have, many Shakespeare appreciators. Instead, it focused on modern slapstick, farce and one actress' ability as its key ingredients to get that magical recipe for a modern comedy.

Amanda Bynes is the woMan supporting this movie and kudos to her for hemming it up all the way. She's not exactly a Hollywood starlet but the best part is that she knows that, and so she relies on the very fact that she is your cute and accessible everyday tom-girl to get her appeal. Smart. She was the pillar holding up this movie, and it helps that she fills a tiny bikini well.

Actually, 5 minutes into the movie and I was contemplating re-writing the script, believing myself capable of a better one. Luckily, the movie starts out low but picks up and really gets going after Bynes dons her mask in Illyria. I would go to school in Illyria just so I can have Vinnie Jones as my Phys Ed teacher. He is amongst the most entertaining British actors and so long as he gets to play himself, the show will have some worth. That said however, he was underplayed severely in this film, to its disadvantage.

The rest of the supporting cast serves mostly for eye candy, and Channing Tatum is high on that list, though James Kirk would come in a close second. For the Female Eye Candy List, Alexandra Brekenridge (break your neck saying her name) really goes all out as the beautiful-but-don't-you-dare-touch-me Monique and Laura Ramsey is sweet and spicy as Olivia. The movie tried to add some quirk with the creation of the Principal-turned-Cafeteria lady-turned gardener. He was clearly meant to smack some whack into the show but he wasn't half endearing or funny or cute enough to pull it off. Good effort though.

Chick flick but not brainrot, 'She's The Man' has got plenty of moments that will get you screeching with shock and laughter.

For when you're bored!

A League of Their Own

Take a fun-filled trip down memory lane to laugh, cry and ride the roller coaster of 'female emancipation' together with a bevy of exquisite beauties - classical + baseball style. 'A League of Their Own' is more than your usual historical reenactment film; being truly in a league of its own. How often do you get a movie made in honour of leggy, high cheek-boned beauties with skirts riding up as they slide into home base?

Its script - sharp and meaningful, will give you tremendous enjoyment. Jon Lovitz deserves much credit for this, considering he got most of the best lines in the movie, as he delivered his lines with flat sardonicism. Geena Davis is a living Greek statue and a fine actress. Her sister character sure got the shorter end of the stick, as she complained incessantly about in the movie, and so did the actress, because Lori Petty is like her name - which just comes short of being 'Pretty. Still, she was a thoroughly believable younger sister whom has a love/hate, idolise/abhor relationship with her elder sister. Madonna must have greatly enjoyed her bold nymphomaniac role, or at least she looked like she was, and need I say she was believable?

Now Tom Hanks- he deserves a pat on the back for his versatility - think Forrest Gump then watch this movie. He plays an incredible lout, drunkard and altogether baseball jerk and wash-up, and he still manages to win you over when he softens up towards the end. There is plenty of strong support from the supporting cast so the movie really thrives on chemistry.

Director Penny Marshall handles family drama, social pressure and internal conflict cleverly and sensitively, giving adequate doses of each at accurate points such that the movie becomes an experience akin to watching life unfold before your eyes.

If all else fails, the movie has bright and cheerful colours, a lindy hop-ish dance scene which will inspire you to take up the art, and eye candy.

If you get the DVD, take a bit of time to check out the Documentary this movie was based on - nice bit of Hallmark work.

Enjoy.

B & J

Uh uh, not Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream, I couldn't write a review on that. What we're looking at is 'Benny & Joon', a 1993 romantic comedy, featuring one of Depp's earlier appearances before he made the 'Hot Hollywood' list, though truly this is one of his finest work.

The 'Benny' in Benny & Joon is Aidan Quinn, the brother of 'Joon', who is played to perfection by Mary Stuart Masterson. Strangely, the main attraction of the show (for me at any rate) - namely Depp, is not in the title! Benny & Joon is a movie about the sibling care and individual realities of Benny and Joon. Joon suffers from an unnamed mental illness that requires her brother to deal with capitulating housekeepers, bewildered policemen and to renounce a social life altogether. Depp arrives in the pot of a card game played for keeps when Joon lost (Heart flush outrumped by Full House) and Benny brings him home to discover he is a the perfect housekeeper for Joon. He cleans (oh my!), cooks (albeit with an iron and goodness knows what else), and entertains. Ultimately, he proves to be more than the perfect housekeeper, becoming the perfect match; soulmate; yin to Joon's yang. Their love, secret at first, grows beyond the glass walls of Benny and Joon's world to burst into their own little homely bubble.

I cannot imagine Joon played in any other manner and by any other - Masterson is witty, perplexing and matched in her wholesome portrayal of Joon by Depp's immaculate performance as Sam. His air of innocence is impeccable with his puppy face in a Bustor Keaton outfit, and when he mimes, it is the best 10 minutes of the film. Quinn does a fine job as the silently enduring brother-turned-parent who in the end, lets go of his apron strings for the benefit of all; he is more a plot device than a feature to compel you to watch the movie.

Watch it again, and again, and you'll never be bored. Kudos to The Proclaimers for adding a wonderful finishing touch to the movie with the erratically charming song - "I would walk 500 miles".

Why I hate Saturn

Engaging from the first page and scintillating, funny and intriguing till the very end, 'Why I Hate Saturn' will absorb you into its world of light-hearted cynicism.

Cutting-edge sarcasm has never made for better conversation than in this book, but it maintains a simple charm. The strange plot that weaves itself, taking turns where you least expect it, grounds the story in unquestioned absurdity. A true New Yorkian story filled with the conversation of eloquent skeptics.

The graphics are simple and easy on the eyes, writer-artist Kyle Baker makes the most of black and white art in stylistic images.

'Why I Hate Saturn' is a great way to spend two hours curled up on the couch with Chunky Monkey ice cream, just don't get any on the book cos you'll need to return it to the library clean.

With A. Tautou, it's Priceless

Audrey Tautou's performance in Priceless (French title: Hors De Prix) lives up to the movie's title. She would be what you watch the movie for. Her wonderfully simple character is played with nuances that gave her a vulnerability and complexity, while maintaining a stereotype facade for the comedic elements of the movie. Plus, the haute couture is well-modeled on her skinny and much sought after frame. though I say looking at her ribs throughout the movie brings to mind the horrors of anorexia. Still, haute couture becomes her; demonstrating her acting versatility when one remembers her recent previous roles (Amelie, A Very Long Engagament). Co-star Gad Elmaleh plays the 'toyboy' well. His natural goofiness lends strength to his attractiveness in this movie, and his evolution from doof to couth flows as smoothly as the silk of Tautou's many designer gowns. The chemistry between the two of them is undisputable, as is their romance, but I pondered the 'why's of it without getting a satisfactory answer, leaving me to the conclusion that their romance reeks of the strange unwordable love much like sister movie Jeux d'enfants (Love Me If You Dare).

251: Bare it all

It was a Sabbath, and did it feel bad that I was watching three females, two of them donning male apparatus, making escalating orgasmic noises in various positions? A tad, just a tad.

Watching 251 feels, to me, like watching someone masturbate. Not that I ever have, but if I had, this would be what it feels like: very awkward, rather strange and even slightly horrific, and terribly confrontational. That was perhaps the main driving force behind 251, to force us to come to terms with sex and sexuality.

A thoroughly ambitious play, 251 had its winning moments which shone among the rest of the more gauche moments. The three solos of Amy Cheng always made me sit up as she walked on stage, dressed as the Roman Queen Melissa, as the Hun princess playing her 18 laments on her pipa, and finally as the beautiful slave-turned-Goddess of Women. Her acting evolved with each different persona and the costumes, every one of them tailored exquisitely to each persona, were enchanting, to say the least.

Cynthia Lee-Macquarrie astounded when she bared herself, emotionally; she, climaxed if you will, at the point where her mother unpacks her suitcase to find her sex tape. Seeing the little dark dots appear on the wooden stage as she stood almost completely still, head bowed low, was a very silent moment filled with awe for her ability.

The set was effective enough, though the television sets seemed unnecessary in the end and the actors’ movement around it was rather pointless and unnatural. They all ensured that no one would be neglected from sight. In fact, they made sure that the audience would not be neglected from participating in the show – when Paul Lucas, a beam of light radiating talent, sought questions from the audience, who did not look mildly interested at his beckoning and looked severely pissed after he took a few jibes at them.

With hindsight, though the show may appear incoherent and lacking soul and direction, it was a one time, and first experience for me, of watching issues and bodies bared onstage. While the issues may not be dealt with so much as just tossed about, like the bodies.

What if you could live forever?

Then choose to die with grace. For as Ellen Burstyn, or Dr. Lillian Guzetti in the movie says, "Most of us go the same way we come in, kicking and screaming...but not Izzi."

Izzi Creo is one person in an age on earth, who had less time than others to squander on life, but she spent the time given to her happily, choosing to finally pass away in slumber peacefully.

This is a key idea I received from The Fountain - don't spend your time fighting what inevitably comes, instead, enjoy the time given to you.

Izzi Creo was one of the three different personas in three different ages through history and place. Hers was the only name I heard throughout the movie, but she is also a Queen of Spain in the time of the Spanish Inquisition, and a perserving spirit in a time probably past what we know - all parallels of the character. And alongside her in all the parallel stories stands her conquistador, her doctor husband and her asetic guardian. The Fountain is, at its least, a love story that perserves through time and space to put simply - in three generations perhaps.

More than that, The Fountain is also an exploration of what it means to live or die and what it takes to be immortal. Birth in death, in the simple example of the dying star that explodes in a supernova and gives birth to new stars, and death in giving life when the conquistador drank of the Tree of Life and sacrificed his body to breathe life into the earth. These are some concepts Director Darren Aronofsky played around with in The Fountain. And played with well.

Aronofsky did not do it alone. His fellow story-teller in the movie is Ari Handel who was cast and crew of Aronofsky's previous works (Requiem and Pi). Cinematographer Matthew Libatique is a name to remember thanks to his work in the movie. He kept things real when portraying the scenes which we might label 'the present' or 'earth as we know it'. When telling the story that sets the clock back to the Spanish Inquisition, he creates an aura of magic wonderment that allows the story the depth to be either part of a past life, or a tale of fiction brought to life. The golden brown colour scheme brought warmth to the otherwise cold endless space in the scenes set in a 'time past what we know'. Libatique's bold jumps through time and space kept the energy alive and sparking in the movie. All this translated the mental imagery from Aronofsky's mind to the screen, making The Fountain such a visual spectacle, bursting with life and colour.

It was a good decision to revolve the movie around the basic love story, for that grounded the movie in the strong acting abilities of Rachel Weisz and Hugh Jackman. Rachel remained malleable enough to portray the necessary depth of each different character, while keeping enough similarity to keep the parallel stories going along each other. I enjoyed her portrayal of Izzi best, considering how she evolved emotionally from fearful to fearless and acepted her passing with ease. Jackman reveals to his X Men followers that he is capable of emotional trauma on top of just looking good. I applaud his sacrifice of shaving his head to play the asetic, but must confess to enjoying his long-haired rugged conquistador role much more.

The Fountain is a beautifully crafted visceral treat, but not all of us can enjoy it in all its grandeur and sophistication. But just let what is beyond you pass over your head, and enjoy the rest, for there is so much to enjoy.

Si quieres ser entendido, escuchar

My friend told me the story of the tower of Babel from the Bible. Once in a time where all men spoke the same language, they united in an effort to build a tower to reach the skies and heavens. However, this effort was borne of the sin of Pride and so God, having to teach mankind lesson after lesson, put a curse of sorts on the men to make them speak different languages. Not being able to understand each other, discord was sown and the plan to build the tower crumbled.

This story has had significant impact on things like Babelfish - the website which translates different languages for you, and of course, the movie Babel.

A husband and wife on holiday in foreign land, a deaf and mute Japanese girl estranged from her father and society, two children and their Mexican nanny, and two Morocan children with a gun... All these stories come together in a surprising and fluid blend of good cinematography, direction and of course, are united by the underlying theme of miscommunication. Miscommunication takes different form in each story and is dealt with differently, bearing different outcomes.

The reality of the movie is grounded in the strong acting by the cast, and I'm not talking about our Hollywood actors here. There is no need to further applaud Rinko Kikuchi's emotionally turbulent and 'physically demanding' performance of Chieko - the deaf and mute Japanese girl who faces one too many communication obstacles. I would like instead to congratulate the wonderfully real acting of the two Morocan children who managed to hold the spotlight with their solid performances. They were utterly believable in their actions and emotional display, and I was rather affected by the little Morrocan boy who so realistically portrayed the trials and tribulations of growing up, before he got caught up in this trial of Babel.

The movie makes its transitions through time and space smoothly with the help of the cinematographer who found the right pictures to cut from and cut to. Director Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu deserves credit for giving truth to another tagline of the movie - A single gunshot heard around the world.

For the life of me, I can't remember the ending of the movie but I remember that I had the best feeling of watching a satisfying movie, and it felt hopeful, despite all the blood, sweat, fear and anger. Babel has merit on all levels of direction, cinematography, acting, and rates a 7.5 on the scale.

Once In A while...

...an exquisitely done soap opera tear jerker can become a completely enjoyable heartfelt love story.

Once In A Summer is that love story.
It is your normal love story, with no outstanding storyline and twisting plots. The movie is done old school with the tried and tested story of the city boy who falls in love with the village girl but are kept apart because of differences. Even the setting is way back in the 60s, where zebra striped tight pants were all the rage - as you'll see (and burst out laugh about) in the movie.
And yet, the move was obviously created by a modern director who knows and appreciates the times gone past. Because for all its traditional elements, this love story has wisps of the ingredients that make a successful rom com - the humor in the script was very natural and colloqiual, unlike the more word-reserved traditional 'soap operatic' lovey stories.
The movie's environment in old and rural Korea is serenely beautiful and subtly scenic, which keeps things modest and simplistic. The movie takes a few trips to and fro through time, and while this could sometimes have been done with a better transition, you won't find yourself disoriented enough to spoil the movie at all. The movie is shot in clean and clear pictures, and my boyfriend believes that some of the shots of old Korea were CGI, but we shan't debate that.
The Bittersweet Life actor displays aptitude in a different acting dimension from that in Bittersweet Life, and does so well at being boy and child-like. He is utterly lovable and heartbreakingly charming in all his boyhood. The lead actress is portrayed consistently throughout the movie, such that nothing she does or feels would be doubted as unrealistic or dramatic. The film is so wholistic in its execution that I believed everything; laughing along when the two lovers joked, feeling their nervousness on their first date, and withholding tears when they were robbed of their being together.
Anyone who ever loved, is loved and loves should take this journey Once In A Summer.
8 / 10

Oh, and the poster is definitely worth getting - it's so well-compositioned and cheery, and just plain sweet!

Hollywoodland - it's all just show biz

My boyfriend calls it the perfect movie.

I say it comes close, and give it an 8.5.

The mysterious death of one of Hollywood's minor celebrities is the main story in Hollywoodland, and the insistence of the victim's mother that it was not suicide, leads an ex cop-turned-PI to create the hype to turn the case into a murder, as well as solve it. But is there anything to solve in the first place?

And that is precisely what it is at the end of the day, after we've been led on a wild goose chase full of scandals, betrayal, heartbreak and self realization- stories. Stories built based on hype and illusions and everybody's own ideas.

There was no murder, there was no killer, just pure human drama at its best and worst. You want a murder, you make a murder story. It all boils down to how you sensationalise. In Hollywood, it's the glitz on the wrapping; the headline; the most screen time; the most expensive suits and restaurants; the idea that you are what you think you are.

But of course, you're not.

The movie manifests the theme of disillusion in the best way anything is taught, through a firsthand experience. As an audience member, I was fed the sensational murder speculations and bam! I fell for it hook, line and sinker. It was only at the end, though it was before the PI came to the same conclusion, that I realised the truth lay in the opening moments of the movie; that it was what it was - suicide. Back at square one after going to a hundred. That's exactly what the PI went through; what the audience, and I went through; and just the very thing the moviemakers wanted us to feel - the disillusionment with it all. The realisation that just because you say it is so and they print it is so does not make it so.

The execution of the movie is perfect. It achieves a clean balance of telling and re-telling the story; presenting both the past and present appropriately and blending time and story together into one superfluous mission to discover. The interweaved lives of the victim - George Reeves, and the PI hunting for his murderer are joined so smoothly you wouldn't realise it. And for the first time, Ben Affleck impressed me! He slipped into Reeves' shoes so naturally I could almost forget his double chin. His charm and emotions played out well throughout the movie and created a very real character who became quite personal to me. Broody as the PI was apt casting, considering how the PI is a messed up cop-turned-detective with a too-loud mouth and big appetite for pain - both physical and emotional. In other words, the PI is broody. :) Supporting cast wise, Diane Lane is Toni Mannix (Who better to play a slightly insecure, very charming, absolutely beautiful older woman?).

The movie very effectively explores a few themes: fantasy and reality, family-building and togetherness, self-indulgence as a destructive tool, and dreams. The happy and hopeful picture of Broody making up with his son makes clear the movie's throughline: Do not sacrifice love and loved ones for the illusions of grandeur.

It's all in the title really - Hollywoodland a.k.a 'the land of illusion'.

"White Oleanders are poisonous, I don't know why anyone would grow them"

I do. Because they are elegant and beautiful, their deadliness enhancing their beauty.
It is my third time watching this movie but it still grips me. Very tightly. And haunts me. The most beautiful mother and daughter relationship, and also the deadliest. Poisoned love. Love by poison. Redemption by death. Ooo...
I really cannot do this movie justice by talking about it. But I will attempt to compliment, to my greatest ability, Alison Lohman and Michelle Pfeiffer's excellent performances. I have hardly, well never, seen a teenager portrayed with more conviction than Lohman's portrayal. Plus, I just discovered she was 23 when she did this, and I truly believed her to be the below-20 youth she was playing in the movie. Her saddness, neediness, angst and grief were so real. I cannot say I approve of plenty of her actions in the movie; sleeping with Ray being on top of the list, but I feel I know and understand why she did. And that's as good as it gets. I never once doubted her, her person. I didn't see acting, I saw being.
And Pfeiffer. Need I say more? She is one of the most perfect actresses I know, and she does not disappoint in White Oleander. She is strong, proud, independent, scary, angry and finally wins us over with her redemptive sacrifice of staying in prison without getting Astrid, Lohman, to lie in court for her release. You do not question why she kills the man, why she is such a great artist. You have no doubt that she loves Astrid, hates herself for her weakness, and is scared. All at the same time. You go, Pfeiffer.
Kosminsky has my admiration for maintaining my attention throughout the movie; its hold on me was lasting and never relented, even though I watched it at 2am in the morning. And trust me, it's not an action-packed movie so there are no fight scenes and explosions to keep you awake. Just pure good story-telling powers. The pacing is fluent, especially considering the many transitions Astrid, and the movie, go through, from foster home to foster home. Oh, the soundtrack. It is very subtle and simple, clean and clear instrumental, except for the credits' song, which was a great choice - hauntingly beautiful melody and vocals, with truthful lyrics. The movie is visually kept simple, save that one outstanding shot of the milk pouring into the glass and the white oleander sinking in. Pure poison.
White Oleadner is nothing less than a 7.4 in my book. The flaws are few, the main one, I believe is that Pfeiffer could do with a little more than the few minutes that she gets to show her 3D breakdown scene.

Lady in Night's Movie

Celebrated as one of the best storytellers of the silver screen in our time, Night only went downhill from Sixth Sense, in my opinion. That plot had the least, if any, loopholes, effective execution, one simple but revolutionary twist and a one-liner that the world will be repeating for years to come. Ever since Sixth Sense, with The Village and Lady in The Water, that simplistic brilliance has lost its shine. Night’s simple formula that gave him worldwide success in Sixth Sense has been messed up with heavier but not as enjoyable storylines, not as good execution and cheesier moments. Lady in the Water falls prey to these errors.
I thoroughly enjoyed the initial introduction to the fairy tale, and the unveiling of who the characters – The Guardian, The Guild and The Interpreter. I was not once bored, and credit for that goes to both the pacing as well as the acting. The Lady, whom we all know was the Blind Girl in The Village (don’t get me started on that one), and whose relationship with Night we suspect might be a replica of Burton and Depp’s relationship, utilized her ethereal looks fully. She captured and created the magical element in the movie in the midst of the very peculiar but very human, humans. Giamatti was completely at ease in the shoes of his character Cleveland, portraying so naturally, the almost-constant sorrow that shadows Cleveland’s walk, and the emotional redemptive moment that almost reduced me to tears. And considering I usually scoff at those self-confession/ revelation moments where all the repressed emotions come flooding out, I’d say that Giamatti truly convinced me of his pain.
However, it was difficult for Giamatti to save the day as the plot thickened. We discover that, horror of all horrors, Cleveland is not the Guardian! He was put to the test and came face to face with the ‘scrunt’, whereby staring at the scrunt directly in the eye would have caused it to back down, IF Cleveland was the Guardian, which he turned out not to be. One disappointment and restarting of a mystery we thought to be solved. The plot takes another twist with the discovery that the supposed Interpreter did not feel his ‘purpose’ was to be the interpreter. Thus, everything had to start from scratch again. I think it is inevitable for most to feel a sense of being cheated at this point when, so far into the movie, we find out we’ve come so far for nothing. This could be considered a good achievement the first time, since it allies the audience with the characters as they are feeling the same disillusionment. But the second time it happens, when the new Interpreter discovers he made a mistake (absolutely crucial at this point) and that the healer was a He not a She. Oh well, the plot no longer thickens; it sickens.
I did appreciate the work that went into framing many of the beautiful and well-thought-out scenes here. Cinematography gave a nice edge to different perspectives and definitely enhanced some moments. The CGI eagle, a.k.a The Great Eaton, wasn’t half bad either.
For what’s worth, I must applaud Night’s ability to blend in cheap humor to lighten up the movie. In Lady, his stereotypical portrayal of the Vietnamese student who talks funny, like the Vietnamese did in Full Metal Jacket (I will love you long long), and has a mother who fears men and speaks only in her mothertongue, is a source of jokes throughout the movie. This move doesn’t cheapen the movie, and might actually be of more merit than demerit to it. However, the choice to cast Reggie, the strange freak who works out only one side of his body and proudly declares that one bicep is 4 ½ inches thicker than the other, as the Guardian at the climatic scene of the movie, did damage the movie. Reggie was comic relief, and the day where comic relief – those sidekicks and lap dogs and wannabes – save the day, is when the suspenseful climax that all have been waiting for degenerates into comedy.
If only Night would go back to simple, one-twist plots, I would forgive even his obsession with furry bear/wolf-like beasts and enjoy his movies more.
Lady in the Water gets 6.4.

Pan’s Labyrinth – They say Perfect, but not for me

Watching the trailer for the first time was a wonderfully magical experience, and I anticipated a magical and fantastic adventure into Imagination.
Sadly, the trailer contained the best parts of that adventure, and in my personal opinion, the best parts of the movie. I am sorry but the trailer completely prepared me only for the magic, not the mundane. I was anticipating wonder, but ended up seeing war.
The movie opens with an eerie tale of the Underground Realm and the loss of its Princess, who wandered into the world above and was blinded by the sun so she lost all memory of her homeland. The King, her father, awaited her return, perhaps in another body.
There is a simple layering immediately as our heroine puts down the book she’s reading; her story and the story overlapping. Nice.
There is a air of wonderment for the first 10 minutes of the movie as the heroine explores, restoring an eye to a stone statue, and conversing with a strange cricket-like insect, which she calls a fairy.
This wonderment is quickly lost once the Captain appears onscreen, with his stiff starched military uniform and square-jawed presence. And it is never quite regained, save for precious few moments in the war-torn movie.
I enjoyed the magical bits tremendously, for it was, after all, what I had come to expect from the very enticing trailer. My boyfriend made the observation that even in her imagination, the creatures were not clean-cut fun and laughter, but very…dark (for want of a better word). There is always an aura of menace surrounding all those magical creatures. He said this was the harshness of the real world permeating even the heroine’s fantasy world. This refreshes the traditional and trite concept of the magical world with this touch of sad reality that lends it that haunting quality in the trailer, intriguing so many with its eerie charm.
I hate to say I failed to enjoy the interspersed reality and the magical world, which I understand is the whole beauty of the movie. The layers, the parallels, the brilliance of bringing it all together, the raw emotions… I failed to drink in the beauty of all that, having had my appetite whetted for a journey of fantasy and magic, which made up, perhaps 30% of the movie, and was quite forgotten in the height of the moments where blood and torture scenes come onscreen. I should have been warned when I found out the movie was R21 cut to NC16.

Acting-wise, our heroine fulfilled her role well, though I must say I was not all too sympathetic for her character. She does a lot of stupid things that really make you scream at the screen; things like eating the grapes on the table of a bloody scary looking monster with eyeballs on plates in front of it and wall murals of that same monster spearing children and eating them! Sheesh, it's only grapes! Maybe if this was the time of From Hell, where grapes were such a luxury they could lure women to their deaths, then I would forgive her thoughtlessness. But I must applaud the young girl for doing a perfectly decent job of holding her own as a lead actress and for what I believe to be a genuine portrayal of a child whose innocence struggles to lead her through the harshness of war. Also, any actress willing to crawl through mud has her heart and mind in the right place, in other words not a young diva in the making.
I found myself in a state of pondering after the movie – I had that oh-so-rare feeling that something had touched me, except I didn’t know what. I liked debating with my boyfriend whether everything the heroine went through was only in her head or real like ‘i-can-touch’ real. That scene where the heroine speaks with the faun, followed by the shot where we look at things from the Captain’s perspective and see no faun was our main evidence for debate. Just because other people couldn’t see the same things she did does not make them unreal, I say. One could very well say that the Captain was blind as much as our heroine was super-sensitive (like how they describe those paranormal-inclined ladies who make predictions and stuff). If it’s real to you, that’s as real as it gets. Yet I just thought, the tragic beauty could lie in how the heroine’s imagination still offered her no escape from death, but upon death did she find release from the limits of her imagination here on earth, to gain her entry into the true fantasy. Interestingly, the colors of her fantasy world are brightest after she died, as if they had shook off that haunting grayness that they had previously when her she tried to house her imagination on earth. Perhaps earth is too grey for the fullness of our imaginations and fantasies.
I think I’m going to watch the trailer again. The trailer rates 10 out of 10, and the movie 7.0. Sorry.

Norton and Watts' journey through The Painted Veil

This is one of the few times a tagline suits the movie perfectly. "Sometimes the greatest journey is the distance between two people" is the basic setup for The Painted Veil, as Walter (Norton) and Kitty (Watts) go as far as Shang Hai, into the heart of a cholera epidemic as well as into the hearts of each other, to finally find a place for themselves.

I sneaked a peek at the book at Borders before the movie, and the first two pages immediately describe Kitty's affair and the silent and mysterious person who might have witnessed it. Unlike the book, the movie does not begin with the affair, but opens with the scene of a rainy afternoon in the middle of somewhere in China, with Walter and Kitty sitting on rocks with paper umbrellas, waiting. Perhaps for the start of their relationship of love, which never happened when they married.

They get picked up after what would seem to be a while, but probably an eternity to an exhausted Kitty, who is slick with pespiration. Walter's sardonic side is introduced here with his response, "Just on time". The flashbacks before this have already told us that he is punishing her, because he was the silent and mysterious person who witnessed his wife sleeping with another man. He had given her the option of joining him on his voluntary mission to some obscure village off Shang Hai to help with the cholera epidemic, or endure his outright divorce on the grounds of adultery. At Kitty's pleading for a more gentlemanly way of handling the matter, Walter gives her option C) He will let her divorce him silently, should her lover Charlie divorce his wife and marry Kitty. Kitty gives this option to Charlie, who predictably turns her down, and so we arrive at the obscure village, and are greeted by a death procession.

Walter had proposed to Kitty two days after he saw her at a party, to which he was invited by her father. He proposed without trumpets and not on bended knee, and (as we find out later in the movie) with full knowledge that should Kitty agree to it, she only did to get as far away as possible from her mother. He proposed, as he later confessed, knowing she was selfish and spoiled, but had hoped she would improve. He proposed, also because he loved her.

Kitty did not love him. And there is a beautiful scene where her lover, this is before he becomes her lover, spins a story to translate the action onstage in an opera house in Shang Hai. The opera singer is wiping her cheek, because she is sold into slavery, condemned to a life of drudgery and despair, the chains falling from her sleeves symbolize her entrapment and her loss of that freedom and vivacity she once possessed. Kitty empathizes, and falls for the story, as well as the man (though he confessed he had no clue what the opera singer was singing because he did not speak Chinese).

In that obscure village, Walter and Kitty take up residence in a dilapilated shack, where Kitty finds a doll on a bed. Walter kindly notifies her that the previous tenant probably died in bed, and that that was to be her room. Boy is he good at playing the devil.

The punishment carries on, as Walter meets his first cholera patient (since he never did before, being a 'bacterialogist') and many more, finds the source of the disease and closes off the water supply. Kitty is left to her own devices, and they are few - a fan just about sums up her possessions, until she meets Mother Superior, the head of the Catholic nuns, and gets inspired to volunteer. Given her musical inclinations, it is not surprising that Walter sees her at the piano playing with the children one fine day as he strolls down the corridor from the infirmatory. This is the first step of their bridging the distance, and leads to many more. Eventually, they have one wild night of passionate sex, moments after which follows the classic vomiting scene and lo and behold, Kitty is pregnant.

But alas, she is probably more than two months along and has no idea who the father is. Nevertheless, the ever-merciful Walter takes her into his arms and says, "It doesn't matter at this point."

Things carry on the way they do until the peace is shattered by the invasion of refugees from a village down south, where the epidemic has spread. Walter bravely takes up arms with the disease as he helps out in the refugee camp, and his noble work comes to a halt. Kitty is awoken one night and brought to the camp to ease his going, and that she does.

The reason I am narrating so much is that this is after all, a drama. And as dramas go, the story is of the essence. There are no explosions, no guns (except one fired at the sky), no blood (though there are excessive bodily fluids spilled), no sex; it's called lovemaking in a drama, but a emotional journey made by man and woman to come together at a point. The man, Norton, is sardonic and charming at the same time, while Watts delivers what I believe to be her best performance (I'm chancing this since I didn't catch King Kong, but I think it's a good bet) in her portrayal of a immature pretty lady who grows into the woman that her husband wanted her to be. She got me hating her selfish ways at the start, and won me over, toward the end, with her newfound commitment and selflessness.

The Painted Veil is well-acted, well-paced, well-framed, and a wholesome tear-jerker with very scenic backgrounds and a good cinematographer to bring it out. 7.5, Ladies, come and get it.

My Fair Lady

"The rain in Spain stays mainly on the plain"
This is one of the lines used to train Elisa Dolittle's speech, the proper pronounication of which would convert her cockney-English manner of speaking to that of "the Queen of Sheba" - This conversion was the challenge that Professor Higgins took up, also as a bet with the Colonel - I forgot his name. The line is a running joke and I think even the title of one of the songs in this musical. And I believe a musical is highly successful when you can remember and recite at least one of their songs.
There is something very satisfying about going to the theatre. It makes and keeps me feeling alive. It is such a rejunvenating experience. The buzz and hum of the crowd, the live orchestra in the pit with the conductor's waving arms, the energy flowing between the actors and between the stage and the audience, scene changes... My Fair Lady was a very satisfying performance indeed.
Though the musical opened on a rather low note, what with the bad acoustics that prevented me from understanding much of what was being said on stage, the performance picked up once Elisa went to Professor Higgins' home to take up lessons. The energy is highest, in my opinion, between Professor Higgins and Elisa and the Colonel as well. The first act maintained that boost, granted it by Professor Higgins, all the way to the end.
The second act, after the interval, had much less action and more deliberation and pondering. And given how late it was getting, I found myself resting my head on the seat and many a time, letting the monologues or even slightly tedious dialogues wash over me. However, kudos on the very well drawn out conflict between Prof Higgins and Elisa after they returned from the ball. This is the part where she throws his slippers at him, "without any provocation at all", according to Prof Higgins. This is one of the longest yet best arguments I have seen played out on stage. It lasted at least 10 minutes I believe, and not for a single moment was I bored or irritated. It was convincing and emotional and very evoking.
I must applaud Professor Higgins. Aside from being the first actor in the muscial whose every word I could hear perfectly, no matter how loud or soft, he also had tremendous stage presence and energy. Everytime he walked on stage, I sat up a little straighter. I would like to say the same for Elisa, but she felt more constrained in her performance unfortunately. Perhaps it was the weight of the costume, and jewels, that weighed down her performance. But I did enjoy her singing quite a lot. I would also like to congratulate her suitor, whose name I have forgotten, but he is the one who would have been a fairly minor character, completely wiped from memory, had he not sang the "On the street where you live" song with such tenderness that made him so endearing to me I made a note to remember him. I am quite infatuated with his boyish ways because of that performance...
What more is there? The costumes were realistic, songs were fun even if not all that memorable, the dances were nicely put together though executed with less precision than I enjoy - but cleverly they can just say that it was because they were gutter-rats dancing on a whim and needed no precise synchronisation. I liked the sets, for they were, as most sets are, efficient and workable. I thought the simple move of the staircase from sideways to front was a very effective and efficient change of location. But I keep thinking what the bird cage in Higgins' study was for, since it neither chirped nor sang nor moved, at all. The acting was quite splendid, for the most part, by just about everyone, though Elisa was quite outshone when paired against Higgin's mother. Oh, but the lighting. My heartiest felicitations to that brilliant lighting designer. The lighting was subtle and effective and very very well-done. It set the mood just right for every song and every scene change and the timing was right on. It brought out the best of the colours of the costumes and captured day and night so well.
My Fair Lady was a good way to spend my Friday evening, which would have been spent cleaning my room instead.

Why would anyone want to kill Veronica Guerin?

Why indeed? Maybe because Veronica Guerin was a successful journalist with a nice happy family in a nice cosy bungalow home with a computer and fireplace, luxuries which so many of the Irish have never tasted. Maybe because she was rash and had balls too big, which went poking into other people's business. And maybe she was hot on the heels of Dublin's druglord, who believed he had too much to lose should Guerin run her little expose on him.

Veronica Guerin, the story of an investigative journalist who was actually trained in accountacy - a skill which added her aforementioned work, is an inspiration to all investigative journalists out there. Her merciless search for justice led her face to face with gangsters and murderers and danger - lots of it. Danger not only to herself, but to her young son and loving husband. Yet Guerin has something in common with someone recently made very popular by a Vendetta. V, V for Vendetta. "Ideas are bullet-proof", and in Guerin's case, it was her undaunting attitude and courage that was bullet-proof, even if she was not.

A fine biopic - Veronica Guerin is well-paced and follows the traditional recipe of inspirational stories. Blanchett is immaculate in her portrayal of the proud and spunky journalist who faces the dilemma of pursuing her commitment to "the greater good" (which journalist are supposed to serve) or ensuring her and her family's safety. Ultimately, Guerin's choice is made for her, because she is so involved that she becomes only a small part of the bigger picture, a picture made complete only by her sacrifice. Her death is the catalyst to Ireland's salvation. It is sad that some people are defined by and in their death.

Veronica Guerin rates 7.0 out of 10.

The Curse of Zhang Yimou

I loved Hero. Honestly and truly. It's the 'I-get-craving-to-watch', 'I-remember-the-movie-but-still-want-to-watch' love. And if that's not true movie love, I don't know what is.

Yimou plays his colours well, very very well. Gosh, the visuals have never been a let down in any Yimou movie - Hero, House of Flying Daggers, and now The Curse of the Golden Flower. And being titled such, the color gold predominates the movie. No, not predominate, more like consumes the movie, and the audience's sense of sight. Of course there were other colours, hey the guy knows his colour palatte, I bet he even invented some colours on it. The yellow army, what I like to call the Chrysanthemum Team, faces the Black Assassins and Furry Whites. Gosh, the scene where the Chrysanthemum's million-man Team climbed up the palace - my favourite visual delicacy. And let's not forget the greyish-blue hues that lit the scene where Xiao Chan leaves her home to safe the Crown Prince, her flawless complexion made radiantly soft and her silky blue silk overcoat absorbing the grey-blue hues to perfection! Visual treats abound, as always. It's great that a movie is worthy simply based on asethetic beauty and once again, Yimou delivers.

But the Curse of Zhang Yimou lies in his story-telling, to me. It wasn't so apparent in The Curse of the Golden Flower, but take a look at The House of Flying Daggers. The plot had more holes than my grandmother's bedsheets and more twists than a pretzel. Visuals were the main, possibly only appeal of 'House'.

In 'Curse', the two friends I watched it with were bewildered and unsatisfied with the movie's conclusion. Especially the credit-rolling song! Yes, apt lyrics, but pop nonetheless, and it was a jarring modern touch to the otherwise intensely-archaic-Chinese-cultured movie. The abrupt ending reminded me of that of The Banquet, but that had a point. If ending 'Curse' with the extremely arty shot of the 'poisoned blood' defying gravity then symbolically dissolving through the heart of the family crest had a point, other than a pretty picture and symbolism, then... actually, that IS the point isn't it. Okay.

Oh, the ACTING. I have to speak of the ACTING. Or the attempts to, by none other than the well-loved Jay Chou. In his acting debut here in 'Curse', he's not half bad. He is quite bad. The entire cinema broke out in laughter whenever he was on the screen! Alright, I'll give the boy credit. He tried, but some faces are just not meant for the silver screen, especially if they have lower lips that quiver in a manner resembling spastic behaviour. He sounded like a - I say whinny, but my editor-to-be friend sitting besides me says 'querulous' - little boy acting across the great, the marvellous and to-be-beholded Gong Li in the scene where he finds out she is slowly, but surely, poisoned by the King. That part is also where the spastic lower lip makes its grand appearance.

Yet, a simplistic plot well followed through, and all elements that make a Chinese gong fu movie, as well as a Artistic Chinese Movie - you know, good and original fight scenes, some blood, some breast, lots of scandal, too much hate, incest (an increasingly popular trend!), beautiful women, powerful men... are present in 'Curse', granting it a neat rating of 7.2 on my list.

Did I mention it was a visual gourmet meal? Bring your sunglasses.

M I watching this? Sure.

The best thing I remember about this third installation of the famous M:I movies? - that there's a cooler meaning to IMF than International Monetary Fund, and that's Impossible Mission Force! Maybe I got this little tidbit a little late, but anyhow, that's my acquired fact-of-the-day, curtesy of Tom Cruise. The movie is classic M:I - technology that wows, girls that are supposed to wow (but sometimes make me go 'Ow'), a few illogical and brash moves by our hero Cruise, and a double betrayal to boot. I realised the last characteristic based on M:I:1 (not so visually captivating when you write it like that) where Cruise gets betrayed by the one he thought was helping him when he thought he was first betrayed. Ah, watch the movie. It's good, clean, action-packed, and not yet R:A fun for the family. I should know, I watched it with two families in one day. M:I movies are a must in our world; they almost represent Hollywood! 6.5 on a scale of 10.