The requisite photo has nothing to do with the post. It's Enzo's latest picture. He and Sissy were travelling back home and the roads were really bad, so they decided to pop by and wait for things to pass. This uncle job ain't easy. As you can see, it's about time I learned how to use that damn camera. It's constantly on night mode so every photo takes like 5 seconds to snap and I can't keep the camera still for that long so everything is blurry. What a time to take a break from the blogging thing! School work was really starting to suffer so I needed to get that taken care of. I'm not looking forward to the exam, and as I predicted I flunked the auditing course for the second time. Guess what I'm taking next term? Uh-huh.One of the good things about being jobless is that it gives one time to look for more jobs and get school work done, but it also makes time for searching for new channels to watch. Thanks to the rabbit ears I bought for Ali, my television now receives 6 channels on raw feed. One of them is French, so it may or may not count. I'm so close to getting the other multicultural channel and doubling my Bollywood quota, but close only counts in horse shoes or whatever. Stupid Cho brothers. I have also had time to look closely at the housework. And if I wasn't sure before, I'm sure now -- I'm whipped. I noticed the other day that one of the rosebuds on my faux Persian rug wasn't dusky rose-coloured like the others. I looked closer, and noticed that it wasn't red or part of the red array at all. It was brown, and wasn't shaped like the other rosebuds. I don't know what came over me, and I suppose from a third person point of view it looked as repugnant as that time I observed a certain gunnery sergeant come for lunch and proceed to nonchalantly sort through Sissy's panty drawer and start sniffing, but I smelled it. Sweet smell, like caramel. Someone was gonna get it. No one, not even Sissy gets away with damaging my faux Persian. When Ali got home, I showed her the crime scene and told her that it smelled like caramel. Defiantly, she announced that it must have at one time been a Rollo. Rollos are Ali's fave, and I looked the other way when chocolate shavings had somehow been melted into my cream coloured settee where they will remain forever, but this was a different story. Someone had mashed a caramel choc into my faux Persian rug and then tried to hide it by putting the corner of the settee over top of it. I have done nothing so far, not even go 2LDK on Ali. Like I said - I'm whipped.
On the subject of 2LDK, Ali brought home another freebie and I was able to watch this film. So the question is now - If the public library can get a hold of a working copy, why can't the foreign film specialists who charge me $6.00 to watch defective copies? I also happened to see Princess Mononoke, Running Scared, The Departed and a few Cantonese movies since I last updated.
If I didn't say it before (I can't be arsed to check), Ali kept touting this film as a comedy, a violent comedy. She refuses to watch the films of Takashi Miike but she will watch other violent movies so long as the word comedy is tacked on to the description. For the record, Ali describes every Japanese television host as a comedian. I think she may have a different concept of what a comedian is. Even if I allow for the broad classical Greek definition of a comedy, I still can't see how 2LDK is a comedy.
It stars two Japanese actresses and takes place entirely within a flat. Eiko Koike plays Nozomi and Maho Nonami plays Lana. Both girls secretly hate each other and are contracted to the same talent agency, vying for the same part. Lana figures she'll get the part because she's got experience and Nozomi is hoping that this will be her first role since moving to Tokyo from the country. The two girls play psychological games with one another until Nozomi figures that Lana has been jerking her around about a shared love interest. Nozomi starts smashing flower pots into the baby grand, and then it escalates. I guess its all fun and games if your roommate eats your food and uses your Chanel skin lotion without your permission, but as soon as they start compromising the damage deposit, it's on! I know its not healthy, but I think its worth mentioning that Lana looks exactly like my ex, if my ex had long wavy hair and a bad dye job, which she didn't, thank goodness but certain close ups of Lana resembled Chie so much so that the triggers had me jumping out of the Rollo-stained settee and cursing the casting director. Director Yukihiko Tsutsumi had the idea to use certain household items as weapons in the film, including things like a toilet tank cover, a toaster, a mini chainsaw (Some people might have those in their homes I suppose), tatami mats, and gold coins. In the end, the girls end up trashing the apartment and stabbing each other in the neck. Both bleed out as a message is left on the answering machine that the producers of the film they auditioned for had rewritten the role so that both starlets could play lead. Now I know what the little guy at the video store meant when he said the ending was bittersweet. He said it was a black comedy. Meh. I suppose it could be. I did laugh a little bit at the subtitles. Some words tell you a lot more by the way you say them than by saying them alone. Japanese has a few good ones. If you're into watching 2 young not ugly women beat the crap out of each other for no really good reason, then you should see it. Or if you're the type of person who has a lot of pent up rage possibly directed at an older sister who, um I don't know, used to forcibly make you play "Guess What's in My Nose", then this movie is for you. I'm not going to go as far as recommending this film for an actual good reason, but the next time you're at the video store and can't quite decide which film would be the representative choice in the "violent comedy" rack, then choose this.
Running Scared was a movie I saw in a trailer last winter, but forgot about it until the video store put it on their top list of customer recommendations. Often as Ali points out, the only reason to watch a Paul Walker film is to watch Paul Walker, but in this case there is more, much more. This film has almost everything. If you need another reason to think ice hockey pointless, its there. Kitchen sex, not just in The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada or those weird Scandinavian no-dialogue ones you used to watch at your dad's when everyone else was asleep anymore. Not getting enough of the whole John-Wayne-was-a-fag argument? Here it is! Really people, is there really any argument? It was his business only, so who are we to argue? Perhaps you're upset that there aren't quite as many movies that make New Jersey look bad as there used to be. Do not despair! This film makes a fair attempt. I should defend the third state of the Union which I call home and say that New Jersey isn't as bad as it used to be. Patterson's pretty much the same, but one city does not a state make. Unless its the Vatican.
Running scared stars Vera Farmiga as Teresa Gazelle, wife of Paul Walker's character. The director liked her a lot. This was the first time, but as it turns out not the last time I saw Farmiga. The director, Wayne Kramer is out there. It was hard to listen to everything he was saying because I was distracted by his weak South African accent, but in this script he saw parallels to Through the Looking-Glass. Ummm, okay. Oh, and this movie has Chazz Palminteri in it too. Can't go wrong there.
The movie opens with a man and a boy running from a diner. The boy is faint and has blood on his shirt. The two race off in a black cherry Mustang soft top, and then the film jumps back to 24 hours before. Mentally, I jump back 24 years to the bank holidays when Bob used to rip around Kent in our Mini Cooper muttering about Goodwood hill climbs and I used to shout for him to go faster. Bobby would be strapped in the back seat with eyes shut, fists clenched, white as a sheet. Or maybe I was Bobby and Bobby was me - my memory's not so hot before 8 years of age. I snapped back to 2006 when the scene changed to the kitchen sex - actually making dinner sex, but that's just details. The story revolves around a hot gun that's been used to kill a few crooked cops, and is handed off to Joey the wheel man to get rid of. Joey hides the gun in his basement where, almost immediately Joey's son and a Russian kid find it. The Russian kid Oleg nicks the gun and shoots his John-Wayne-Loving crack head abusive father. What happens next is the whole Quentin Tarantinoish odyssey where the kid scrams and Joey panics, trying to recover the gun and the bullets fired therefrom. Joey sneaks into the hospital to grab the bullet left inside the father, who is also being squeezed by the surviving crooked cop to reveal the location of the proceeds from a bad drug deal. Anzor, played by Karel Roden says he'll give up the dosh, as long as the cops don't shut down his crack operation. We should probably focus on Oleg now. The kid witnesses a pimp beating up a prostitute and pulls the gun on the guy but misfires. The pimp pulls out a knife but before he can do anything, the hooker slams him with her purse and the kid takes off. Joey talks the kid into a meeting and at the diner, the kid gets skittish and hides the gun in a toilet tank. The gun is recovered by an inquisitive custodian, and after being screamed at by his dad, the kid runs and hides in a van which happens to belong to a pair of pedophiles. I'd like to say that I don't think these characters added any value to the film, and certainly don't bear any similarities to Through the Looking-Glass. In fact, this particular storyline was very off-putting. Now, it's not just Joey looking for Oleg, but Teresa is looking as well. Oleg is pretty smart and manages to get away from the pedophiles long enough to make a call. Teresa shows up and after some smoke and mirrors she reckons that the pedophiles are liars and takes justice into her own hands. Two dead pedophiles and Oleg is on the run again. Meanwhile, Joey and his buddy are in the Czech Republic playing ice hockey with their jaws. Some other people there are Oleg, Oleg's father, and his backers as well as Joey's backers. The scene unwinds into a he said, he said situation where everybody tries to guess who is the biggest bluffer and who is telling the truth. Oleg blurts that Joey showed him the gun, so that he would take it home and kill his father thereby eliminating some of the drug dealing competition. Joey says that it was his buddy's idea, which makes his buddy's dad look bad. Now nobody trusts anybody, so everybody starts shooting everyone else. Joey and Oleg are the only two to walk out of there and through the magic of cinema, the Czech Republic all of a sudden becomes East Rutherford. So how does all of that relate to a dine and dash and a black cherry Mustang? Stupid Joey invites Oleg to some pancakes and ta da! Guess who's at the diner with a couple of his bitches? The pimp. He's managed to wrangle the gun off of a mechanic who won the gun in a poker game against the custodian. Ahhhh, full circle Tarantino style. The pimp goes after Oleg, but Joey jumps in. The gun goes off and the pimp gets cut good. Cut to the scene of the Mustang racing away. End of story - Or IS it? Turns out the blood predictably didn't belong to Oleg, but to Joey who turns out to be a cop and the two race home to Teresa so that Joey can keep a promise. Right before they get home, Oleg's mother blows herself up because she thinks Oleg is dead and she has no reason to go on. So Teresa is running around trying to shield Oleg from the carnage and Joey is bleeding to death. The real end of the story comes as Joey and Teresa fake his death and hold a funeral. After that, Teresa and Oleg move to the country with Teresa's own son only to be reunited with Joey. Schmaltz.
I had been looking forward to a couple of Cantonese movies. I confess, I confess, I confess. I will watch anything with Sammi Cheung in it, or at least make an honest attempt. I tried to watch My Left Eye Sees Ghosts, but I couldn't stand listening to Sammi scream every second line, so I turned it off. There was another movie a few weeks later that had a nice description on imdb, but I couldn't get good reception. I'm waiting for a good Pinky Cheung film to come on the telly, but I have had no luck so far. There was one last week I think, or if I'm lucky it'll be on tomorrow night.
Ali brought home Princess Mononoke last week, another film by Hayao Miyazaki, the guy who did Spirited Away. As before, the landscape animation was unbelievable and the underlying message was environmental. The story itself lagged and was definitely a bit longer than it should have been, but it was good for the kids. This one didn't make Ali cry, and she prefers Nausicaa of the Valley of the Winds but the vocal talent was a regular who's who of Hollywood. Billy Crudup, Billy Bob Thornton, Gillian Anderson, Clare Danes. Not my cup of tea, but I can see why this film would have a large fan base.
Happy Birthday Martin Scorsese! Segue to The Departed. Ali has been itching to see this film for weeks, and had a couple of free passes so we went. I thought it was good, perhaps the best original American screenplay to come out of Hollywood this year. Until I found out that I had been bamboozled. A friend quietly pointed out that The Departed was a rip off of Infernal Affairs or Mou gaan dou. So much for that. This is just another example of the fact that big Hollywood studios ran out of ideas a long time ago. I will say though that this remake was very well done. Matt Damon plays a dirty cop who helps a local Irish mobster played by Jack Nicholson locate a rat in Nicholson's group. The rat is played by Leonardo DiCaprio and is overseen by Martin Sheen and Mark Wahlberg. Wahlberg quits when he objects to Damon's conduct. Damon's girlfriend is played by the ubiquitous Vera Farmiga, recently of Running Scared. She gets mixed up between Damon and her patient, DiCaprio. Sheen gets thrown from a rooftop, and DiCaprio becomes a rogue cop. A great big shoot out occurs between Nicholson's group and the cops, where Damon discovers that while he's been researching the leak in the gang, Nicholson's been ratting to the FBI all along. Damon gets pissed and shoots Nicholson five or six times in the torso. Alec Baldwin takes over Sheen's position and Damon is finally able to convince DiCaprio to break his cover. DiCaprio realizes that Damon is a crooked cop and meets Damon on the same rooftop where Sheen was killed. He calls two other officers whom he feels he can trust. Anthony Anderson takes one in the head and as DiCaprio takes a cuffed Damon down in the lift, he takes one in the forehead as the door opens and the second officer fires. Turns out this second officer was also working for Nicholson's outfit, and as Damon is freed, he takes a gun and kills the second officer. Now Damon is the only guy who knows the whole story. He goes on reconciling things with his girlfriend and one afternoon as he walks home from the market with bagels and milk. He opens the door to his flat and somebody walks out with shower caps on their shoes. Wahlberg was waiting. Somehow he knew that Damon was involved in the killings of his superior officer and his fellow officers, and shoots Damon in the head. Cue Rolling Stones and credits.
Apparently, the film Odishon by Takashi Miike is referenced in this film, but I can't see where except maybe in the flashback scene where Mr. French garottes his wife. Good soundtrack, though there has been some debate on the Andrew Collins Show as to where some of the songs actually aired in the film. It's too late now to actually hear the song or the actual conversation via the link, but have a listen. I'm sure you'll like it. For the record, Andrew didn't like the film. I don't tune in as much as I used to. They've moved his timeslot to weekends rather than weekday afternoons which were New Jersey mornings. Everyday at work while busily key-punching, I could listen to Andrew engage listeners in topical debate. Good stuff, good stuff.
That's about it for another few weeks. If I'm organized, I might be able to sneak another update in before Christmas, but that promises to be another busy time of year, what with Ali's mum coming for another visit. She put it to me this way - somebody is coming to escort Ali back to Japan, and I have a choice. Either her or Genya. That's not really a choice, but you can see why I'm happy the mum is coming. I'm preparing myself mentally for her arrival by practicing good conversation, forgetting naughty conversation, chewing plum-flavoured gum (Oishi!) and listening to Takashi Fujii albums. He's more than just a whacky blond-haired television host appearing in Lost in Translation but he's a singer too. Such talent! He's Ali's new favourite singer, and she's got all his dance routines down pat.
