Thursday, 31 January 2013

tune/ hollywood (?)


This blog sorely needs a new tune, so here it is. Ta-da.

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I am terribly saddened to say that after I watched Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters, that the film industry has gone above the shallow waters and onto the deepest of shallow shores.

Hollywood has been putting out the same formula again and again, where they pull off action scripts full of blood, vulgar, elaborate slow-mo angles and gore but left the plot/script/choice of actors to three year olds. While I am not to say Jeremy Renner or Gemma Artheton are not good actors (they are, in fact, pretty decent for the 20th century), but you can just tell that they are not enjoying this whole re-imagining of Hansel and Gretel thing going on, despite the fact that they told the media they enjoyed filming it.

Of course, if you want to talk about 'deep and profound' movies Hollywood has made throughout the years, the only ones worthy to mention in the past ten years are The Dark Knight, The Departed, Moneyball and True Grit. Other than that, the overly egoistic movies such as The Dark Knight Rises (let's face it; Nolan's 'I-am-famous-now-so-I-think-anything-I-put-out-on-movie-screen-is-good' plan is definitely splattering all over your body as you watch the movie) and horribly decent movies like The Hangover (please do not let me get started on that) are putting the industry to shame.

For many years, filmmakers have wished for a mold where they can craft a film in such a way that any audience could tell it belongs to him or her making. They got it in the form of CGI effects and the sudden interest in making a film based on hard material like books or comics.

Say what you want, but Michael Bay's Transformers was the movie that left the mold the way it is right now. A hero in distress, a sexy lady who just so happens to know something the hero does not know and also happens to be a tomboy, a robot sidekick from outer space and a pile of villains who do not give a damn about the hero but still gets their ass kicked by the hero's lady friend and his robotic sidekick.

We, the viewers, are trapped in a vicious cycle where countless of movies used the same plot and script with different actors to ruse us, to amuse us with their deceit and lies of being creative. The Hollywood film industry has made one good movie out of ten, and the other six or seven are rated 7/10 or higher by critics or viewers simply because they have better sound effects and a complete 80's Scorsese ripoff with a hint of Polanski's attention to emotions.

I guess I am just tired of watching the same film over and over again. This mold needs to change, and while the mold is still being used by many in Hollywood, I would have to assume that half of them did not realize that what they have been doing are the same and had done nothing to contribute to the film industry. Sex, money, power or even pretentious kinship do not cut it anymore.

If I were to get a choice to direct a film and to have control over the process of making the entire script, I would make a movie solely about food, a man with a simple dream and in Hollywood standards, a hilariously realistic heist gone wrong. Viewers and critics search for plots that are worthy to be called 'profound' or just simply rummage through a movie searching for actions full of fire and bullet holes, but what they are missing out is the simplicity, the white sheet of paper that is a viewer's mind when he or she comes into the movie, sitting down on a comfortable (assuming it is) chair with both hands busy with popcorn and fattening soft drinks on their hands. Impressively laden plots like Inception could make a viewer go 'wow', but trust me, a simple movie like Submarine (by Richard Ayoade, by the way) could also make a viewer go home with a new, refreshing feeling.


This is a TV series I am hooked on right now. It is incredibly stupid if you do not know what is going on, but if you do, then you will have some of the best 30 minutes of your life.

Of course, my opinions on Hollywood will change eventually, but for better or for worse, I do not know. However, there is one thing I DO know; after graduating from Film school, I would rather work my ass and get paid less than two thousand quid a month filming dormant volcanoes on helicopters or freezing to death filming a wide angle shot in the North Pole for BBC than to direct a B-rated action movie in Hollywood, earn half a million dollars and being well known as 'the guy to look for if you want to see things explode'. Just sayin'.

P.S: As an instant noodles regular, I would suggest to anyone to keep the hell away from seafood flavored ones. They taste like a glass of water full of salt and water with soggy strands of hair.

Monday, 21 January 2013

5th semester


Fly by night, away from here
Change my life again
Fly by night, goodbye my dear
My ship isn't coming and I just can't pretend

Moon rise, thoughtful eyes
Staring back at me from the window beside
No fright or hindsight
Leaving behind that empty feeling inside

It is time to face my 5th semester of ADP. Frankly, this will be the toughest of the five semesters I am in this course, most of it because I am in classes that I am pretty sure I will not fit into my Music or American Government lessons. The key to stand above the rest in ADP is to play the 'I-know-everything' card, but unfortunately, I only know how to play the 'nodding-my-head-as-I-give-him-or-her-a-sophisticated-look' spell.

It works all the time.

Of course, in this semester, I will be in arm's length away from graduating and choosing an university to finally become an (oh no) university undergraduate, which to me, is a waste of a human's life. Alas, it is the social norm after all, so there is no way I could escape from it.

Yay to white papers with black printer ink that will give you recognition for the next two years of your life after graduation, working behind a cubicle with a colleague who farts and eats donuts while secretly watching pornography. Yay to that.

Yay to that indeed.

Sunday, 20 January 2013

defection

I have finally seen everything.

In the end, the three other members of the Lai households are nothing but pro-Conservatives, pro-Pacifists whose life lessons include earning more money, earning more money, and as what any stereotype would view an Asian family, pro-academics. Academics mean all, and business related courses are everything. No one in this family should ever do anything that they want, but be constrained in bonds and bonds of social norms, which can only be defeated by scissors made of gold and silver. 

What love! What kinship! What lies! What parodies!

In the end, justice is hidden under a layer of fierce loyalty to pro-life, to pro-pacifism, to saluted kinship that is tightly knit together by silk and cashmere. 

"Love your sister!" Love my sister when she does not love me?

"Love your mother!" Love my mother when she thinks of me as a jerk, as a person whose life is based on colorful pictures of postcards?

"Love money!" Love money when it is nothing but papers that form a double-edged sword?

"Love me!" Love you when you do not even accept that small flaw that I have?

Oh, Family. For once in my life, you disappoint me.

For once in my life, you lost me.

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The direction of the eye
So misleading
The defection of the soul
Nauseously quick

I don't question
Our existence
I just question
Our modern needs

What do we really need in our lives? More money? More fame? More time?

I just want comfort. That is all I ever asked for. If that is not enough, then I do not know what is.

Wednesday, 9 January 2013

caught in a landslide


Wake up the dawn and ask her why
A dreamer dream she never dies
Wipe that tear now from your eye
Slowly walking up the hall
Faster than a cannon ball
Where were you when we were getting high?

Someday you will find me
Caught beneath a landslide
With champagne supernova in the sky
Someday you will find me
Caught beneath a landslide
With champagne supernova in the sky

One of the best Oasis songs in their catalog, and one that just speaks to everyone, even when 'champagne supernova' could mean anything. Great, great song.


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Whatever reasons you may have, from strict families to your same chants of 'I can't just fight!', this is getting out of hand.

I do not know what is in your mind, but your adherence to inflexibility is beyond my understanding. I cannot comprehend why your words do not constantly match your actions. It takes consistency to maintain a relationship, a plateau in a words-match-action graph invisibly hidden but graspable meter that is present in every couple's mind.

Maybe it is because I am born in a semi-Western influenced family, where independence is a norm, or maybe it is just because I just do not know what you are doing at all. You talked the talk, you walk the walk. It is as simple as that. It takes even the likes of Guy Fieri to notice the amount of inconsistencies in the graph.

Your take on authority is commendable, but inflexible. Perhaps one day, just one day, you might realize that your parents will never be able to control your own life, and you can actually choose a path in your life, a road where both you and your parents are satisfied with, one that can you yourself could control.

This is no chicken soup, but I plead you, I beg you, please, please, for once, make one decision that you are happy with and bloody stick with it.

Please?


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I cannot wait for this sodding holiday to be over and get out of this slump I am in right now. These past few days have taken a toll in me, and I do not have the pleasure to be genuinely happy anymore.

Thank you, You. Without you, I would not have remembered how being in a relationship during student days could produce so much angst and disappointment, with a teeny-tiny serving of anger.

Oh, Life. Welcome back.

Tuesday, 1 January 2013

thoughts on 2012

Oh, it's 2013?

Nice.

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Just reread my previous post. It was a blog post that was of the standards of MacDonald's burger and fries. Never will I ever write a blog post on a late midnight ever again.

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I lived, and lived terribly.

To say I am happy about the events in 2012 was an overstatement. There were many moments where I wished I could have contributed more or make drastic changes to the words that came out of my mouth, but alas, there would never be a time machine to turn back the clock. I am never the best of men out there, and I realize that. It was not that I did not want to strive to be one in this particular year; it was just simply too difficult to be the 'best of me'. 

What is the 'best of me'? What is 'the best decision'? What is 'justice begetting crime', Mr Rey? 

Maybe one day, just one day, this young, underachieving man would understand.

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Robert Plant, Jimmy Page, John Paul Jones and John Bonham, thank you. Thank you so, so much.