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.