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.