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hamlet 2

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Photo from Baltimore Magazine

Didn’t everyone die in the first one? Catherine Keener asks Steve Coogan’s Dana, but who cares? The school’s going to shut down the drama club (apparently the last remaining elective in this Tucson high school), art education in the US is being threatened, and he needs to please this kid critic who has just slammed his theatrical adaptation of Erin Brockovich. What else can be done?

Write a damn sequel for Shakespeare’s Hamlet! With a time machine! And Einstein! And Jesus! And a song called “Rock Me, Sexy Jesus”! And additional music from the Tucson Gay Men’s Chorus!

You have quite the swimmer’s bod, one of Dana’s students says of Dana’s Jesus. Wait a second, the student says, confused, Is Jesus a swimmer in this play?

The kid critic quotes Roland Barthes in one of his articles. That really got me.

demons and a dark city

Angels & Demons

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I borrowed and read Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code and Angels & Demons back when the first film’s still generating some negative buzz in the Catholic community. I just wanted to find out what the books have to offer.

Well, I found out soon enough that they offer lots of fun trivia, shallow characters, and unimpressive storytelling. Too harsh? To paraphrase one of my creative writing professors: Dan Brown’s loaded, he doesn’t give a shit about what you think.

True.

Paul Bettany saved the first film for me. I might even consider watching it again, for him, provided that I’ll be allowed to fast-forward. Angels & Demons is better because there’s less talk, and Ewan McGregor’s in it. No, seriously: the film’s pretty much straightforward. That insufferable Langdon throws in some nuggets of wisdom, but it’s all about the action. A string of themed murders, characters beating the clock, characters talking while trying to beat the clock – the stuff enjoyable, formulaic suspense films are made of.

I can hardly recall the book now, but that one scene in the film, that scene where Langdon is trapped under the church and is banging on the iron manhole cover to attract the policemen’s attention? I remember that as a particularly excruciating flashback passage in the book. This is the problem with characters that are not thoroughly fleshed out: I don’t care about Langdon, Mr. Writer, I don’t care about his phobia of being buried alive (or being in a small space, I can’t be sure) (see?), I don’t care about his childhood trauma, I don’t care about the history of his Mickey Mouse watch. Let’s not kid each other. This is plot-driven, baby. So move the damn plot forward and enough with these attempts at giving character backgrounds.

The film moves the plot forward and it works. It gets silly at times, but you’ll forgive the filmmakers. Just remember: Ewan McGregor gets a lot of screen time. And he’s wearing black.

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So you’ll forgive Vittoria for talking even though she knows they have less than five minutes to deactivate the bomb.

It’s not a spoiler. Suspense films are fraught with bombs. You should know this by now.

Photos from Celebrity Wonder and Allmoviephoto.com

Dark City

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In the beginning of the film, there’s a light swaying from the ceiling. There’s a man sitting in a bathtub filled with water. There’s blood on his forehead. He gets up, gets dressed. Someone calls him on the phone, says he’s a doctor, says he shouldn’t panic. The man gets out of the hotel room and finds out that everyone is asleep. The guy behind the desk, the guy in the phone booth, several men sitting around a table. Maybe the whole city, even. Save for the half-naked girl in his room, who is clearly dead. On her skin, someone has drawn spirals using blood.

Dark City’s premise is horrifying, and fascinating, and I highly recommend that you watch it. Also, it is an original story; it is not based on a comic book (as I would have assumed) or a novel. We hardly see original productions anymore.

Oh, and William Hurt’s in it, because William Hurt makes everything better. :D

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Special thanks to the lovely Liz for the reco.

Photos from sscnet.ucla.edu and flickr.com

new stories

I cannot for the life of me now remember when I sent stories for consideration to the Philippines Graphic. (Well, I can check my Sent Items folder, but I’m lazy.) It felt like a long time ago. Like late 2008. Maybe I’m just impatient, but around the first week of this month I decided to send them a letter saying that I’m withdrawing all of my pending submissions, unless they’ve been accepted/rejected. You know, so I can finally sit down with my stories and tell them what’s what.

Then this morning:

Date: Wed, 20 May 2009 19:18:14 +0800
Subject: Re: Attn: Literary Editor
From: Marra PL Lanot <deleted>
To: Graphic Editorial <deleted>

Please inform Eliza Victoria ASAP that her story “Earthset” has been accepted for publication in Graphic. Thanks.

and

Please inform ASAP Eliza A. Victoria that her story “Hotel” will also be used in future issue of Graphic. Thanks.

That is Ms Lanot’s name, right? I’m not hallucinating? o.O

I’m not. She was my professor in my Film & Lit class.

This is lovely. :)

I’ll link the stories once they’re up.

blindness

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..but neither of them thought of asking, Have you got something in your eye, it never occurred to them nor would he have been able to reply, Yes, a milky sea.

(p. 6, Blindness, Saramago)

What if everyone went blind and you were the only one who could see? Jose Saramago’s engrossing prose uses no quotation marks nor paragraph breaks for the dialogues, and it fits this narrative, where the characters’ thoughts and spoken words are interchangeable with the narrator’s. It makes me think of an observer watching people interact at a distance, a watcher-turned-ventriloquist putting words into their mouths, commenting on their actions. At times the narration becomes too wordy, the humor awkward, but the language is beautiful enough to keep even an exasperated reader reading. The last paragraph is a thing of beauty.

* * *

While browsing through the books in Bibliarch the other day, I saw a book called Seeing, also by Saramago. It involves a bunch of voters’ ballots turning up blank. A novel about disillusionment, I believe. Seems interesting. I might pick it up.

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Right now, though, I’m enjoying reading Atwood.

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*Sigh* This lady never fades. :)

mr. brooks

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Photo from smh.com.au

Oh, I love the way you think, William Hurt’s Marshall says at one point in this film. And I think it’s wonderfully twisted.

And that’s all I can say about Mr. Brooks really – wonderfully twisted. Kevin Costner is Mr. Brooks, and his interactions with the suave, gum-chewing, sometimes tender, sometimes bullying Marshall are the strongest scenes in this film. William Hurt is perfect, as always. (Have you seen A History of Violence? You should.) Dane Cook pulls it off as Mr. Smith, who discovers Mr. Brooks’s “addiction”. Demi Moore also stars here as a police detective in the midst of a divorce, but I’ve never been fond of Demi Moore.

But, seriously: the Kevin Costner – William Hurt tandem? Genius. Somebody cast these two in a dramatic film, and quick. Oscar wins, for sure.

The song played during the final scenes was also terrific:

(Mr. Brooks was released in June 2007, but it wasn’t shown here, so I just streamed it here.)

plugging

Plugging?? Me ganon?!

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Visit regularly for updates. There’s a Chatterbox, in case you get bored waiting.

Toodles.

(Toodles?? Me ganon?!)

(For non-Filipino speakers: Me ganon, a contraction of May ganoon, is used to express amusement or disbelief, or amused disbelief. Transliterally it means There is such a thing. It doesn’t make much sense.)