Thursday, December 07, 2006

Coming Up for Air

After a few arduous weeks, I'm back same as always with a total of six films to discuss. That's the problem with updating so infrequently - I forget which movies I've been watching and then I have only a little to write about on each one. By the way, this is Enzo J at his baby shower. Such a busy little man, we had to reschedule the thingy. After 50 days, we had the party. This is a photo of Enzo with his great-great-aunt Imogen. He's getting a good look because I think she might be the oldest person Enzo has met.

The morning of the shower, Ali started whipping up something in the kitchen. I should have said something, for she had the mistaken impression that this was a potluck affair. We ended up toting a pot of Japanese stew to the thingy and toting it home again. Ali had pretty much met everyone at the thingy before, but I had to re-introduce her again. She couldn't remember anyone's name because, "You all look the same". She could only remember the cowboy but not his name, but unfortunately he wasn't there so she was a little screwed. This would happen twice in the same day. Later, we drove past an IHOP which Ali had recently discovered was a pancake restaurant.

"I want pancakes. Turn here." So there we were, sitting in a pancake house with a pot of Japanese stew on the table. About half way through my hotcakes, I looked at the kitchen and recognized the chef(?) as a guy I went to highschool with. I told Ali to take a good look and remember his face because I was going to show her my yearbooks later. About an hour later we got back to the very cold flat and I brought out my senior yearbook. The dude wasn't in it. I checked my sophomore yearbook. No photo. He was in my freshman yearbook. I guess he switched schools or dropped out or something which might explain why he's flipping hotcakes. I showed Ali the photo which was a pretty good likeness except that he had put on weight, as we all tend to do after that much time, but she said that she couldn't remember the guy's face because we all look the same. Arghhhh! I kinda wanted to say something, but I knew I shouldn't.

I messed up big time a few weeks ago - I erased Ali's iPod. Yet another reason to hate Apple. I wanted to upload some of my own music onto her iPod. I plugged in the cable and iTunes started to update her iPod. I cancelled the update, or at least I thought I did and ended up not uploading the music I wanted. For some reason, even though I'd cancelled the update my entire iTunes library ended up on Ali's iPod, and all her own stuff was gone. Of course, I thought nothing was wrong until a few days later. I was woken up by Ali screaming in perfect English "You Stupid Fuck!" This all could have been avoided if Apple had provided the music I requested several times instead of my having to work with an external source.

I messed up big time again a few days ago, when the whole reason why I've been hiding went all Pete Tong. I really, really studied for my exam so I had a good feeling about it. That's it lad, your entire course hinges on six questions. If you miss any two, you flunk. Well, I neglected to wear my watch and ran out of time on the exam, unable to correct an error I discovered late in the game. I suspect this will become another rewrite, but it's all very demoralizing. Kinda like when your brother asks you if he can borrow your nice new Fluevogs because he wants to take them to summer camp but you say no because you know the shoes won't fit and these shoes weren't really meant for hiking. But he takes them anyway, trashes them and tries to hide them someplace but you find them. That kind of demoralizing. The upside is that I have managed to find a job, and they've even granted me a little gardening leave before I start. I'll make the best of it.

And so, in no particular order, the films up for consideration are The World's Fastest Indian, Sixth Sense, Eyes Wide Shut, Something's Gotta Give, San jaat si hing or Moving Targets, and Let's Make Love.

Ali came home from her last day in class and told me that her classmate suggested The World's Fastest Indian. At first I was intrigued because I personally felt it was a little too soon to film a biopic of Narain Karthikeyan, but then Ali muttered something about motorcycles. I checked it out and was pleased to find that it was all about land speed records. So while Ali was out having her farewell party with her classmates, I was watching this film. While I was getting info on this movie, I learnt that part of the set had been used by a motorcycle gang in Invercargill, New Zealand. A wee trigger took me back to the hellish stranding in Quincy, California. There I was with Sissy and inexplicably, a girl from New Zealand who had hooked up with my friend's nephew and fatefully decided to ride back with us while my friend and his nephew wandered around the Nevada desert taking what turned out to be some kick ass photos. Before this girl hooked up with my friend's nephew, she had been in a relationship with a guy back home in New Zealand who happened to be part of a motorcycle gang. She claimed to be a bit of a hellraiser, but I didn't buy it. She was waaay too much of a princess, and I didn't like her to begin with. I tried, really, to get along with her for Sissy's sake, but this girl just wouldn't cut anybody any slack. By the time we got rolling out of Quincy, this princess had lost it a few times. We got her back in time to make her connecting flight back to London. Maybe under different circumstances, we would have got along better. I also learnt that somewhere in the film a BSA is featured, probably in the beach race which was also a trigger but a nice one, of that very cold night in December 1992 when I met my ex-girlfriend's father. Let's call him Bob, because that was his name. And in a way, he does look like Sir Anthony Hopkins who stars as Burt Munro in the film which makes the film all that more interesting. There I was, the young, wide-eyed, long-haired "colonial" with Bobby in Birmingham, meeting my girlfriend's mum and dad for the first time:

Bob:'Ere. [Pointing vaguely in my direction] You like automobiles?
Me: Ummmm, yes sir.
Bob: I've got something to show you. Come with me--
Girlfriend: Nooo! Dad, don't...
Bob: It's alright. I'm just gonna take this one out to the shed.
Me: Just me, sir? Not Bobby and his girlfriend?
Bob: No, lad. Only you said you were interested.

He led me out to the yard and motioned back towards the garage. "That's a Moggy lowlight. It's mine." I remembered my girlfriend telling me that her father had an old Morris Minor. In the dark I could make out that it was a lighter colour, perhaps sky blue and that the engine had been ripped out of it. As we got closer to the garage, he told me to go inside and have a look. There was just enough room to inch along single file, and he was making sure that I couldn't turn around. "I've got something else to show you, keep moving toward the back."

It was at this point that I was suddenly reminded that I had known this man for approximately 5 minutes and had no idea how he felt about me dating his daughter. I turned back toward him and looked in his eyes. Cold stare - I froze. I was pretty sure that he was going to corner me in the shed and pull out a shotgun.

"Lift up that canvas and see what's under there... Go on. Don't be shy, I'm not going to shoot you." I lifted the canvas and there was a 1938 chocolate brown BSA before my eyes. At least that's what he claimed it was and I have no reason not to believe it. He said that it had only had one owner, an Italian expat who had gone to England to sell gelato. After much saving, he finally had enough money to buy a bike and sell his gelato that way. Of course, the next year it would all be over. In 1939, the gelato man had to pack up and leave the country. Bob bought the bike at auction or something and reassembled it from scratch. The thing had been boxed for years. Bob turned out to be a great guy. I really should have tried harder to stay in touch with him and his family.

The movie stars Sir Anthony Hopkins as a older New Zealander named Burt, who coincidentally had had a twin brother in his youth named Ernie. I laughed at that part, which was hard because you learn the brother's name right at the same time you learn that the brother had been crushed by a tree. This elderly, rather eccentric mechanic decides that he wants to use his 1920 Indian motorcycle to set a land speed record in Bonneville, Utah. The guy had basically spent 45 years, assuming he bought the bike new, tuning it up to go fast. He knew it was already the fastest bike in Australia and New Zealand, and the one thing he wanted to do before he died was make it the fastest bike in the world.

The story lags a wee bit, presumably because the diretor wanted to remain as close to the real events as possible, but it follows the old codger in his bid to raise enough money to get to Utah, it chronicles his heart problems, and his encounters with a friendly Central American used car salesman played by Paul Rodriguez who we all know should have been chosen to replace Johnny Carson. Okay, maybe I just know that. But can we honestly believe that there wasn't a better comedian than Jay Leno available to usurp Johnny? I have news for you - Jay isn't funny. Never was. But he likes cars and has some dandies in his garage, so he's alright by me. A car salesman, a native who helps him with his old man problems, and an old lady who runs a service station and nearly gets Burt killed in a cemetery. You see how this story meanders. It also gets a little preachy on the habit of smoking. I can only believe that the real Burt Munro was a staunch anti-smoker. He finally gets to Bonneville only to discover that he hasn't registered his vehicle and it doesn't pass technical inspection, partly because his tyres have no tread. He meets some other very helpful Americans and is voted the most popular driver at the meet. After some arm-twisting and rule-bending, the old guy gets on his bike and rips down the salt. He's added a lead brick to the front of his bike to reduce vibration. I imagine this is much like what Ferrari and Renault did to their Formula 1 cars for 2006. Of course, Renault was ordered to remove their device but Ferrari was allowed to keep theirs. Go figure. Burt quickly discovers that the lead brick doesn't work as expected and makes the run without it. He can control the aero by popping his head up a wee bit. The director makes a point of emphasizing goggle trouble, and as the bike accelerates close to 200 mph, the goggles fly off the helmet. All the while, Burt is slowly burning his leg on the exhaust because he doesn't have a fire suit and an asbestos wrap makes it impossible for him to fit into the bike shell. I was reminded of the time Sissy decided to catch a ride on a motorcycle while wearing shorts and burned her leg pretty badly. She walked it off like a trooper. So we have an old man with heart troubles sharing his heart pills with his motorcycle for a nitro boost careening blindly down a painted line in the desert cooking himself. The story is limited here in that it has to stay true to fact, so there's no second wind or anything, the guy keeps accelerating until he hits 200 and then wipes out. Technically, in order to set the land speed record according to USAC rules I think the car has to be able to get to the finish line, turn around and match or better the speed in a ten minute window. Whether I'm imagining that, or whether that rule wasn't in effect at the time is not explained. Burt Munro had set the land speed record for modified motorcycles smaller than 1000cc before he died. But he didn't die. He went back to New Zealand a local hero. Apparently, he went to Bonneville again for nine years following that record and his record still stands.

Eyes Wide Shut was the next film that Ali brought home from the library. As you may have heard, this film stars Tom Cruise, Nicole Kidman and kinda sorta Sydney Pollack. I remember there being a lot of controversy surrounding this film, but I guess it was more buzz than scandal. This would be the third Stanley Kubrick for me, but the only one I watched the whole way through. Watching Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb in upper sixth history and Spartacus were the other two. What did I like about Eyes Wide Shut? Certainly not the acting. What I liked was the music. I was reminded of The Ninth Gate starring Johnny Depp I guess because of the aspect of suspense but also because of the scenes in the country. All in all, the film was a let down considering all the hype that surrounded it, but it was pretty good for what it was.

San jaat si hing starring Nicholas Tse, Edison Chen and Simon Yam was a film I'd seen before, but couldn't follow because of the bad reception. I tried to watch it again after getting rabbit ears, and got about halfway through before growing bored. I thought about The Departed and how this film would fit perfectly between the police academy period and the point where Leo DiCaprio applies to the Massachusetts State Police. I haven't looked into it, but I think this film was meant to parallel Infernal Affairs. I think there was a little too much comedy in this film for a drama, but about as much as I've come to expect from Cantonese dramas.

I really couldn't say anything to dissuade Ali, so when she brought home The Sixth Sense starring her favourite Haley Joel Osment and Bruce Willis, I wasn't too surprised. This film is famously about a kid who sees dead people. The kid is a bit of an oddball because of the things he sees, and he ends up having sessions with Bruce Willis' character, who figures he can help the kid and atone for making a mistake with a previous client played by an almost unrecognizable Donnie Wahlberg. They work together to find a way to make all the dead people go away happily, and at the end Willis discovers that he too is dead but is happy to go away. I didn't think too much of this film. I thought it could have shown more of Osment's character helping dead people get where they need to go, but it didn't. What I did like about this film was the exteriors of the homes, and the spiral staircase inside one of the homes. I remember Bobby and me trying to get our mum and aunts to put a spiral staircase into the beach house, but they nixed the idea saying that it would be too difficult to get the furniture up. Am I a fan of M. Night Shyamalan? Not yet.

Something's Gotta Give starring Jack Nicholson, Amanda Peet, Diane Keaton and Keanu Reeves was a good one. I probably only say that because I'm starting to appreciate Nicholson's work more and more. I don't think I can say the story is very original, but it was well done by Nicholson and Keaton. I'm planning on seeing The Holiday with Jack Black and Jude Law soon. Nancy Meyers writes and directs both films.

The last thing I wanted to do when I got home after my exam was go to bed. I wanted to rewrite, but Ali told me to stop worrying about and relax. "You're a failure, and there's nothing you can do about the exam now, Stupid. Just forget about it, you are so A", referring to my blood type. Apparently, Asian cultures can tell as much about a person from their blood type as Western cultures (read pot-smoking hippies) can tell from one's astrological sign. Personally, I think it's all a load of hooey. Instead of torturing myself over the exam, I turned on the television and got the George Cukor gem Let's Make Love on the Canadian channel. I would have flipped channels, but I instantly recognized a young Yves Montand. As for the film, I'd seen it before and it was getting late so I didn't watch too much, but anything with Montand in it is worth watching in my books. I should also mention if you didn't already know, another great French actor died a few weeks ago, Philippe Noiret of Les ripoux and Tango died of cancer. I was tempted to write something when it happened, but then I realized that I really wasn't very knowledgeable about his work. No, I haven't seen Cinema Paradiso or Il Postino and I probably won't, but this guy was a mainstay in French cinema and was one of my favourite French actors.

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