[Sunday, March 14, 2010]

So I didn't like Alice in Wonderland that much. All that British talent . . . uh, as voice acting. Christopher Lee had two lines. Two lines with more energy in them than the rather washed-out version of Alice. (Eh, the pale-because-of-terminal-tuberculosis look was popular, back in the day . . .)

Girl Power, empowerment and finding yourself is all good, but the girl left Johnny Depp and the cat that sounds like Stephen Fry after slaying monsters with Wonderland's phallic symbol to go back to the real world so that she can reject Lord Indigestion . . . and sail off to spread imperialism and colonialism to China? (This is not a spoiler. Despite the presence of Johnny Depp. You know the girl never gets Johnny Depp. Orlando Bloom, maybe, but never Johnny Depp. Because he's that far out of reach.)

So empowerment is just doing what the boys do, only better?

Yeah--didn't like it that much. (And Johnny Depp should have figured out by now that Helena Bonham Carter can chew scenery as well as, or better than he can, big head or no big head. It's easy to outshine Orlando Bloom and Keira Knightly, due to the wallpaper-ish nature of their acting. But next to actors of calibre, Johnny Depp doesn't look that spectacular.)

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The cat left something in the box at [5:50 AM] 0 comments

[Sunday, January 03, 2010]

I-actually-watched-movies! (Making 2009 the year with the least movies watched in a cinema . . . as I watched these two in 2010.)

Sherlock Holmes:
Victorian bromance with more bang than the original novels and better characterisation than previous adaptations. Very amusing. But . . .

Erm. I think one of the many reasons why I don't watch movies very often is that the Science doesn't quite make it.

The science/big plot machine thingy in the movie went something like "mumblemumblemumble--some arsenic containing compound--mumblemumblemumble--refined in the stomach of pigs--mumblemumblemumble--in these wonky cylinders that will produce a poisonous gas if a solvent is added--mumblemumblemumble--and only those who drank the antidote previously will survive--mumblemumblemumble."

Eh. I have to take off my science goggles for movies. Case in point . . .

The largest contributing factor to me not watching most movies is the predictability of the things. For Avatar, everyone probably feels like me. The plot is formulaic and is the paint-by-number-version of Dances with Wolves. Crossed with Pocahontas for good measure.

And the science in this one . . . oh dear. You can't breath it, but you can light a match in it. (Though my friends pointed out that there could be some other combustible non-oxygen gas in Pandora's atmosphere. And that James Cameron does anvilious story-telling. George Lucas does the detailed world-building.)

The evolutionary iPod dock was the most interesting thing. And Ripley Signorney Weaver as the scientist/biologist was let down by the fact that if every living thing on Pandora has the evolutionary iPod dock/can dock with the evolutionary iPod dock, wouldn't that be the first thing they would do intensive research on?

Sorry. My inner researcher is appalled for science and scientists.

We concluded after the movie that James Cameron had to do the white-guy-saves-the-day-trope because no-one in his country would watch it otherwise. Then again, he also had to hammer the point in with anvils because his target audience won't get it otherwise. But the sad thing is that some of them still wouldn't get it--nice try, Mr. Cameron.

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The cat left something in the box at [7:20 AM] 0 comments

[Thursday, May 20, 2004]

Troy (*inspired* by Homer's Iliad, note the qualifier): Ignoring the misrepresented mythology in favour of the men in short kilts and sarongs. Look, there's even-more-inaccurate-Troy-Slash already . . . (Imagine how unnecessary slash would have been if the movie had been more mythologically accurate. Or not, because there's Orlando Bloom and other men short kilts and sarongs in it, hence slash is a foregone conclusion.)

My friend told me about the Quarter-Life Crisis today. To which I blinked and said, "But you're only 24!"

And she said that was the *point*--there is no satisfaction and that her job sucks because of so-and-so. Same with the others out there flying a desk through the terrible maze of office politics.

Hmm. Reminds me of the time when I was 21 and wondering what I was doing while doing nothing in particular, only no office politics.

Apologies to the people I've unloaded on. Gomen nasai. I'm always this cranky.

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The cat left something in the box at [8:08 AM] 0 comments

[Tuesday, May 18, 2004]

Kill Bill Vol 2 was a vast improvement over Van Helsing (which was so bad I didn't even bother slashing any character from that movie).

*considers going to see Beautiful Boxer as well*

Have started to do accelerated kanji self-learning with kit. Ganbarimasu! (Note to self: avoid going to that place at certain times.)

Mini-rant at certain persons who will remain anonymous:

Ano . . . I take pride in doing most things I do well. And my time comes with a price tag because I have very little free time these days and you're not one of my really close friends--not even a *friend* yet. You're not paying me for my (extremely limited) go-between services, so you can't expect me to process Y!Jp auctions that end in 7 hours when I'm at work or on a training course. So quit asking the impossible of me and scout out your own j-rock ticket auctions at least several days in advance before asking me if you're such a desperate fan.

Please go to one of the online commercial go-betweens if you want things done fast without complications about overseas transactions.

And the *biggest* joke of it all is that you're the one with the JLPT-1 certificate and I'm not even formally qualified at any level.

The lesson in this is: Doing something well out of the goodness of your soft heart usually means getting handed another job that people will want you to perform just as well and just as inexpensively (in this case, that means FOC).

In honour of Growing Old Week, I also have an appointment to see Troy with oldest of known friends. In which we will sigh in disbelief over the fact that Brad Pitt is 40 and I'll sigh in disappointment over the whole cousin-Patroclus-thingy.

Other than the increased cynicism, the only observable changes so far include
- Eh, have apparently gone two shades darker from just going outside. Am getting moles instead of freckles.
- Mashed pinky finger in the toilet stall door. Ow.

Well, from the number of times the cat has stuck its butt in my face in its attempts to be friendly, I see testicles, so it's a he.

No name at present. Never named any cats before--always assumed they had their own names.

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The cat left something in the box at [6:13 AM] 0 comments