Harry Potter & The Half-Blood Prince

Harry’s getting older and his adventures that much more harrowing in this the latest installment in the magical franchise.

Public Enemies

Gangster movie directed by Michael Mann. Starring Johnny Depp and Christian Bale. On a side note, Time Out New York called Mann’s Miami Vice one of the fifty best films of the decade! What the F. Murray Abraham were they thinking?!?

Julie & Julia

Starring Amy Adams and Meryl Streep and based on the popular best seller. This movie actually cost me a jacket — and a nice jacket at that! I was watching them film a scene on the 7th avenue subway platform and leaned up against a post that had been freshly painted — YELLOW! Damn you MTA, and my unabashed curiosity!

Somers Town

The latest from director Shane Meadows, and re-teamed with his This is England star, Thomas Turgoose.

Three Monkeys

Best director award at Cannes for this Turkish neo-noir.

North by Northwest 50th Anniversary Edition

Honestly, what’s left to be said about this gem? Two documentaries and a commentary by writer Ernest Lehman, for which alone it’s worth picking up!

There is nothing more disorienting than a film that turns on its head everything you have been expecting to see.  After reading the reviews, I thought Three Monkeys (Nuri Bilge Ceylan, 2007) was going to be a bleak, arty picture with plenty of moody storm clouds and silent agony.  I was prepared to be bored – I wasn’t prepared to be scared.

After hitting a man on a lonely road one night, Servet (Ercan Kesal), an up and coming politician enlists his employee Eyüp (Yavuz Bingöl) to take the fall.  It’s election time, and Servet doesn’t want a scandal.  Eyüp accepts the promise of a payment and goes to jail.  However, his son Ismail (Ahmet Rıfat Şungar) is in trouble – coming home after a bloody fight, Ismail bullies his mother into asking for the money in advance, while Eyüp is still in jail.  Hacer (Hatice Aslan) gets the money, and begins an affair with Servet.  Eyüp gets out of jail, and Servet dumps Hacer.  Ismail kills Servet, and Eyüp becomes the mirror of Servet, offering a migrant waiter a payout to take the blame for the murder.  Yes, it’s uplifting stuff.

About a third of the way through the film, the hot-headed Ismail slumps on his bed.  He suspects Hacer is having an affair.  Pushed to the edge of the frame, he sulks, and the desaturated room broods with him.  Outside, the midday sun is bright, the contrast making the sliver of world going on through the open doorway nothing but a small rectangle of light.  Then through this haze of sunshine, the outline of a small black figure emerges.  The figure has thin spindly legs and twig like arms, like the little stick boy.  I’m terrified of the little stick boy.

I watched this shadowy figure move slowly toward the room.  My arms prickled.  I said to Cadillac, ‘what’s that over there?’  It was eerie, the way horror movies desperately want to be, but usually fail because the audience, wanting to be frightened, is expecting too much.  The body was too small to simply be an adult in the distance, it was definitely a child’s body, but so far there hadn’t been any children in the film.  The little silhouette, distorted into a thin bony shape by the shallow focus, crept closer.  Ismail was gazing at the doorway through half open eyes.  ‘Maybe he’s dreaming, it must be a dream.’  I said, needing to make noise.  And then in a sudden cut a huge child’s face filled the screen, eyes ringed with bruised purple, droplets of water dripping from his ghostly, sallow skin.  ‘Brother?’ he croaked…and then he was gone.

Describing the scene now, it doesn’t seem nearly as surprising as it was, that first time.  The moment was so affective simply because I hadn’t been expecting it.  It was a truly uncanny moment, where what appeared familiar and predictable, the slow measured pace of an art house film, suddenly switched into something unknown. Freud wrote that for many, the feeling of the uncanny is most felt in ‘relation to death and dead bodies, to the return of the dead, and to spirits and ghosts.’  The strangeness of seeing a body that was once filled with life, stilled, is disturbing because it doesn’t seem right.  In turn, once we grow used to the stillness, it is disturbing if the dead body suddenly whirrs into action.  Thus ghosts, being simultaneously dead and alive, are terrifying because they challenge both states.  Here, the film not only shows us a ghost, it also becomes a metaphorical ghost by transforming into a completely different kind of film.  The jolt is brilliantly affective, because the film leaps so suddenly into a different gear that it takes your body a while to catch up with it.

Asuman Suner has noted that Ceylan’s early films tend to position the home as a site of the uncanny, and in Three Monkeys, the uncanny home becomes the heart of the film.  Ceylan shows Istanbul as a place that represents both the ideal of home – a place of comfort and belonging – and the reality of home – a place of discomfort and loneliness.  For Can Eskinazi, ‘Three Monkeys is a peculiarly nationalistic eulogy, because what lies at the heart of this nationalism isn’t pride in national identity, but rather a quintessentially humanistic stance. It’s a recognition of the people’s ambivalence and failings, and a tribute to their endurance in the face of the human condition’ (Film Comment: May/June 2009) and I’m inclined to agree that Three Monkeys is a film that explores both being Turkish and being human.

The film presents characters who struggle with the pressures of living in a growing, flowing city, in a country whose national identity has been the source of an intense and contradictory upheaval.  For the lower middle class characters, Eyüp, Hacer and Ismail, integration into a rigorously secular and suddenly westernized world has no doubt created a sense of being out of place.  The sensation of the uncanny is a physical one – it leaves your body feeling unsure of its movements, you move awkwardly through motions that once felt natural and smooth.  It’s as if when ideology suddenly shifts, the soul is left behind, creating a gap and a sense of displacement.  This is why the moments of surprise in Three Monkeys are so brilliant.  They conjure up a magical cinematic experience by transferring the character’s shock into our bodies.

Weiter geht’s in Nikkô! Wie in den anderen Berichten, ist es mir auch hier kaum möglich, alles Erlebte in Worte zu fassen und die Bilder geben nur einen ganz kleinen Eindruck von dem Gesamten wieder. Aber ich hoffe trotzdem, dass ihr ein bisschen von der Stimmung dort miterleben könnt.

Der Aufstieg begann…. Auch wenn das Wetter hätte besser sein können, war die Stimmung und Atmosphäre durch den leichten Nebel in den Bergen unglaublich.

Und dann waren wir angekommen – der Tôshôgû-Schrein, das Mausoleum des Shôguns Tokugawa Ieyasu.

Und als Dai diese Gebäude erblickte war er tief beeindruckt. Ich natürlich auch, aber als Ausländer und “Tourist” reagiere ich eh anders auf Tempel und Schreine und so war seine Reaktion schon besonders. Die Farben dieses Schreins sind in der Tat für japanische Verhältnisse sehr aussergewöhnlich und “dick auftragend”. Blattgold, Rot, Grün, Gelb… unglaublich viele Verzierungen und Figuren… Berichten nach wurden 140000 Bäume, 500 kg Gold und 370 kg Silber für diesen monumentalen Bau benutzt. Das Tempelgelände umfasst 8 Gebäude.

Wendet man sich von dieser Position nach links, geht man an diesen Genossen vorbei, welche den Heiligen Stall verziehren. Der Stall, in dem die heiligen Pferde, welche für Zeremonien gebraucht wurden, ist das einizge Gebäude, welches aus unbemaltem Holz besteht.

Der Spruch “Nichts Böses sehen, hören und sagen.” geht auf die buddhistische Lehre zurück und hat mit Affen nichts zu tun. Im Japanischen jedoch heißt es mizaru 見ざる (nichts sehen), kikazaru 聞かざる (nichts hören), iwazaru 言わざる (nichts sagen). Im klassischen Japanisch ist ざる zaru die Verneinung einer Tätigkeit und hört sich gesprochen oft ähnlich an wie Affe 猿 saru.

Die Schnitzerei am heiligen Pferdestall ist vermutlich nicht die erste, aber die älteste, von der das Datum bekannt ist. Drum sind es wohl auch die Affen von Nikkô, die so berühmt geworden sind.

Diese Tür fand ich totaaal hübsch!

Das Innere des Schreins durften wir nicht Fotographieren, aber ich habe in Japan etwas in der Art noch nie gesehen. Gold, Farben, interessante Gemälde… beeindruckend.

Im Netz habe ich nur diese Zeichnung gefunden, welche dem Original aber nicht wirklich nahe kommt:

Das Einzige, was ich fotographieren konnte, war dieses Bild vom Eingang:

Interessant fand ich die schwarz-rot-goldenen Bommsel überall ^^ ! Nein, sie haben nichts mit Deutschland zu tun. Kann man sich vorstellen, wie es hier vor knappen 400 Jahren zugegangen sein mag, umgeben von Samurai, Priestern, dem Shôgun? Wir hatten Glück, dass die Busreise-Gruppe, welche vor uns den Schrein erreichte, schon längst wieder gegangen war und somit war das Gelände sehr ruhig und leer. Die Bäume rauschten und dufteten, die Suzumushi zirpten, ein leichter Nebel… Es wäre echt schön, an so einem Ort mal ein paar Tage ganz in Ruhe zu verbringen. Mein nächter Japan-Besuch wird, wenn es denn klappen sollte, einige Übernachtungen in einem Tempel enthalten. Ich weiß, ist seeehr früh geplant, aber man muss ja Ziele haben im Leben *hihi* !

Die Mikoshi des Schreins:

Diese Skulpturen sind alle aus Holz geschnitzt:

Ich habe gerade im Netz ein schönes Video von diesem Schrein gefunden. Die ruhige Atmosphäre auf dem Berg zwischen all den Bäumen ist echt schön!

Wie am Ende des Video gesehen, gelangt man von Tôshôgû-Schrein zum Futarasan-Schrein. Warum wir hier dem Shôdo Shônin wieder begegneten, schreibe ich beim nächsten Mal ^^ !

See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil: otherwise known as 'the three monkeys'

You have obviously enjoyed reading my wandering wonderings so far about France – thanks for the feedback; the page clicks rocketed to nearly 1000 yesterday, and from all over the world, e.g. Canada, Cambodia, Australia, Russia, Egypt, Jamaica, Brazil, South Africa, as well as closer to home in Europe of course.

Of course it’s not been just about France really, it’s also about what God is doing in us, and in peculiar old me in particular, and I’m not sure why you should be so interested as I’m just a bald guy trying to get to heaven.* So I trust some of my inward thoughts – influenced as they are by the places we’re visiting, the people we meet, the books I’m reading, the time apart to be “still and know…” – will in some way help you and bless you, make you think a little about something you might not have thought about, make you laugh perhaps, and make you thank the Lord that you’re not married to me.

There were a few of photos that I wanted to share but haven’t quite made it into the tales of unfortunate events so far recounted. So, in no particular order, here they are with a few notes of explanation where necessary: -

Emilie choisit la charcuterie...

Whatever you call them – Saucissons secs, Chorizos, Bâtons de berger, Csabai, Finocchiona, or Salchichon – we all love ‘em! Especially Emily and I, who spend much time perusing, tasting, exploring the myriad different saucissons you can find in French markets and supermarkets. It’s one of our favourite hobbies.

Moules, naturellement... actually no, they're cooked.

Did I say we love moules? Yes I did didn’t I…

Mes quatre filles!

For some unknown reason it has become a tradition that I take a pic of Judith and the girls along the promenade in St Palais, but à l’arrière! I’m not sure why. We have several years worth now of photos like this – a bit like chalking up family heights on the kitchen doorpost (did you do this when you were little?) Lucy used one of the photos to design a lovely piece of art she gave me for my birthday one year which she entitled “My Girls”. It hangs near my bedside.

Emily's favourite beans: vanilla & cocoa

Come on! They’re almost vegetables.

Encore!

Did I mention the moules…?

CAP D’AGDE: POLICE MOVE IN AS LIFE GUARD TAKES LIFE TOO SERIOUSLY

A bizarre episode occurred one day when we were quietly minding our own business on the beach at Cap d’Agde in the Mediterranean. There was quite a lots of surf – part of the reason we had chosen this particular beach – and so there were several red-vested life-guards in evidence along the shoreline and on the rock-pile breakwater jutting out into the bay.

Everything was going swimmingly, so to speak, when suddenly one of the life-guards situated on the the breakwater started shouting and blowing her whistle and, by a combination of shouting and wild waving of hands, shooing loads of people back into shallow water. She was evidently not satisfied with the reaction of the folk in the water as she marched on to the beach, still shouting and whistling, waded into the water and starting remonstrating with the disobedient men, women and children who had disregarded her orders. We had, up to this point, been lazing happily in the sun on the beach – Emily and Lucy playing cards, Grace tanning, Judith and I reading – but it was impossible not to be drawn in to the brouhaha.

The rebellious people (in the main French – there seemed to be hardly any étrangers down south this year, certainly very few Brits, perhaps off-put by the poor sterling-euro exchange making most of the trendy Riviera resorts further towards Italy really expensive) were now slowly and reluctantly responding to the barking life-guard with the sort of enthusiasm shown by prisoners-of-war, but she was far from satisfied.

A serious altercation erupted between her and one group who seemed to have questioned her authority; before long several other life-guards had joined in, and within minutes mounted and armed police arrived on the beach blowing horns and demanding that everyone evacuate the sea and remain on the beach. I began to think that maybe we were ignorant of something – like  a nuclear test about to take place just off-shore – but as I arose and joined the throng now pressing in around the hoity-toity, in anticipation perhaps that the air-force or Foreign Legion might appear at any moment, I discovered, no, that it was just a question of the fact that the life-guard had received a challenge to her authority and had called in the reinforcements.

After this everything calmed down almost as quickly as it started, one or two people were meekly escorted off the beach and into a police car (no doubt for “questioning’) and the rest of us were allowed back into the sea if we wanted. Many more people than before did venture into the sea (like us for example) as the surf was far higher than before – no life-guard seemed to mind – and nothing more was said. So as the Guernsey Press might report “DRAMATIC MOVE AS POLICE DEAL WITH FRACAS AT BEACH: No-one was injured.”

The episode epitomized for us the difference in culture between the French and the English. Had events transpired this way on British soil, or rather sand, there could have been two possible outcomes, but probably not the one we witnessed in France. Either people would have been compliant and moved out of the sea fairly swiftly, grumbling quietly under their breath but generally asking few questions, or, more than likely alcohol would have been involved, it may have escalated into a riot on the streets, there would certainly have been injuries, and probably a judicial review resulting in several people losing their jobs and politicians piously stating that “lessons must be learnt”.

I like the French way better.

_______
* with acknowledgements to the estate of the late great John Wimber for the misquotation.

Click to Enlarge

“Hear No Evil, See No Evil… SPEAK NO EVIL!”

Thought this picture sums up our main man pretty damn well.

Now get on over to Paragraph11 and STIMULATE YOUR MIND!!!!

www.Paragraph11.com

I have been procrastinating long enough… Haha! Because there’s too many days of things to update, therefore I’ll just do it in a summary and post the pictures that I’ve taken.

The more “significant” one is my staying over at Jo’s last last Sunday because it was too late to go home… It was damn freaking cold, but I think Jo feels even colder because she was sleeping on the floor. She let me sleep on her bed because I was having a cold… I feel so bad about it =(

Anyway the following day (which is last Monday), I woke up at 7.30am and left her place at 8am because I had to attend orientation. I felt shagged to the max because I slept at about 4am the previous night.

I’ve also bought my iPhone, as written in my previous entry. And um, the hours I spent in Sunnybanks last week is more than the hours I spend in UniLodge, which is why there was the period of time I called UniLodge the UniHotel… coz basically I go back there to sleep.

I’ve also cooked dinner twice in Sunnybanks (and played basketball), few times in UniLodge with Esther… Went to the Three Monkeys twice (but no photos). I’ve also watched Ice Age 3 and Harry Potter HBP during this period…

HBP WAS NEVER MY FAVOURITE, so I didn’t had too much hope for this movie. It was funny in the beginning but it got quite boring towards the end. I thought Dumbledore’s funeral should be more grand… I pictured it as a significant event when I was reading the book… Hmm…

So yep, basically it sums up how I’ve spent my days.

Eh… and school have started yesterday, it was pretty interesting. Yesterday’s lecture was on Enterprise Systems. It’s really interesting to see how students interact with the lecturer during that lecture, as compared to my days in NYP which we’re all dead and no one answers the lecturer when the lecturer asks a question.

Today’s lecture (Business of IT) wasn’t that fun though. I heard from Esther that the lecturer is a racist. =(

I’ve just consolidated my pictures… not alot, only about 60 pictures… I’ve pretty much changed to using my iPhone to take pictures because the quality is not as bad as my camara and it’s really quite troublesome to carry my camara around… LOL.

Me and Jo went on a trip to South Bank to explore and walk around… We took many pictures, but I haven’t taken any from her yet.

Saw this market thingy.

Wanted to buy this for Ah Qi… but I guess it’s abit too early to buy souvenirs for her? Haha! I didn’t buy it.

The sky was very clear and blue that day.

Some of the things you don’t get to see in Singapore.

Walking towards Goodwill Bridge, which is the other direction of this photo.

Camwhoring. I had make up on that day, but I look fat so MOSAIC!!!

First time stepping on the Goodwill Bridge.

Was supposed to stay there (a.k.a. River Plaza)… Long story…

One more try…

Reached QUT!! This tree is huge!

On the way back to UniLodge (walked one big round =_=)

Almost reaching UniLodge when we saw this thing. Cool!

Jo, Esther, KS and I went to Mt Coot-tha that night. The view was really nice, but my camara was damn weak so I couldn’t capture it.

KS sent me this photo afterwards. He used his DSLR to take this photo. SEE THE DIFFERENCE!!!

Esther. Me. Jo.

Taken at Three Monkeys. Was feeling sick.

This was taken using my iPhone… there was a protest going on in the City.

Police!! =D

Esther and I cooked dinner. Spaghetti that night… tasted yummy.

Ok… this is random stuff… but the guy behind that computer is cute. His name is Ryan and he was leading the orientation group. As you can see, I was stalking him =_=… but I’ve only got this photo.

Singers… Great voice.

Taken in school…

One of the buildings in QUT.

Went to Wen Minn’s friend’s house and took this picture. Their house had a very very nice view of the river…

Me again… To show that I’m alive and kicking!

AND OMG THE LAST PHOTO IS MY LATEST BUY!!!! I’VE FINALLY GOT MY CHRISTINA AGUILERA!!! YAYYYYYYY!!!!!!!

Out.

“How I Taught My grandmother To Read And Other Stories” by Sudha Murthy is a beautiful book I’ve read recently.  This is my first book of hers and I liked her simple style. Actually, I heard a lot about her other collection of stories, “Wise and Otherwise” and have been trying to find it for a while. When I was browsing through the Landmark store inside the Rajiv Gandhi International airport at Hyderabad, I could not find it, but grabbed two of her other books: Dollar Bahu and the one I mentioned at the beginning of this post.

Here, I would like to talk about the author’s “How I taught …” book. It’s a collection of real life stories, which leave you inspired once you are through them. The language is simple and the incidents are taken right from her life. This adds to the worth of that book. But these are not all. In addition to inspiration, I felt something totally different too. I can’t name that feeling but it has to do with the feeling we experience when we encounter with so much “good” and only “good”. In these stories, you’ll  come across so many such incidents and persons: The down-to-earth Dr. Kalam, the inspirational JRD Tata, a successful businessman who help set up schools in his hometown, a child laborer who grows to own a garage inspired by the stories told by a customer (Ms. Sudha herself) etc.  All these stories in turn reflect the compassionate nature and simple-mindedness of the author.

The author provides many thought provoking quotes and life-lessons in the course of her story-telling. Here are the ones I liked most:

• It is better to be worn out than to be rusted.
• Excellence does not come by accident but by practice.
• Whenever you want to give something to somebody, give the best in you, never the second best.
• Donate without expectation because it is not a gift. It is a duty.
• Never start with diffidence. Start with confidence. – JRD Tata
• Your best friend is yourself and your worst enemy is yourself. – Bhagavath Gita
• Doing what you like is freedom.
• When you come across difficulties, you have to grow bigger than the problem.

As I was mulling over the good feeling these stories invoked in me,  I recalled one another time I felt the same so long ago. It was when I read a short novel “Karmayogi”. It’s a novel accompanied my Swathi monthly magazine. All the characters in that novel are really good people exhibiting only the positive behavior. In that story, “fate” is the only villain. I felt a sense of tranquility engulf me as I finished reading it and was already looking forward to read it again.

To take this concept a bit further,  I feel the same tranquility and experience that “good” feeling, when I contemplate about God. This correlation is not surprising at all because I manifest God with everything “good”.  I perceive God as the only perfect being in this imperfect world. God is often my retreat during difficult times.

These experiences made me realize, more strongly than ever, the healing and soothing effects of positive things – positive feelings, positive emotions, virtues, ideals etc., in sharp contrast with the negative things and emotions – violence, crime, jealousy, anger, which seem to be everywhere around me and within me.

When you fill your mind with good thoughts and do good deeds and try to be in good surroundings, you’ll feel very light and acquire that peace of mind, which every person continuously tries to achieve.  On the other hand, any negative feeling or thought you entertain would burden you and you become restless.

You often have to spend more time and effort to tell a lie, which is not the case if you choose to speak the truth. It’s easier to love someone than to hate. I tried it, and I tell you:  hating someone really drains your energy, affects your health and of course your peace of mind. Jealousy hinders your progress and does nothing constructive. If anything, it only results in wasting your time and energy.

All this reminds me of Gandhiji’s three monkeys: “Hear no evil, See no evil, Speak no evil”. You can obviously gain so much when you practice it.

Ok beware. SUPER LONG ENTRY. I wanted to seperate the entries but I thought it was quite dumb because well, I’m blogging everything in a day anyway. Ha.

Day 1: (28 June)
I told Fu Bao and Xiao Qi and everyone else NOT to cry when sending me off… and I told myself not to, but I cried. Really embarrassing because it’s like… my flight got delayed (by 2 hours), therefore I had more time with them at that moment and it’s harder to leave. My third aunt was there to send me off too.

Anyway, I went in and waited to board the plane. All I see was Caucasians and not a single Asian. Got a little depressed coz I thought I could at least meet one or two Asian students going Brisbane for studies.

So I board the plane, and I sat beside this Pakistani which I managed to start a conversation with later on. He’s really quite big sized and I was quite squashed up, and I had no place to put my luggage. So I slept all the way through the journey. I took a few pictures before I slept and before reaching though…

I think we were flying pass Indonesia.

Love seeing the clouds beneath me.

Wing of the Airbus A330-300.

The new controls.

More controls.

Then came my lunch.

I had chicken and rice. The rice was too wet, didn’t really like it.

Above Australia.

Near nightfall. I love to snap pictures of dusk. Love the hues.

I’ve been staring at this since I woke up.

Slightly darker.

Had a chat with the Pakistani. He’s a Pakistani born Australian going back to Australia for summer holidays. He’s currently teaching in Pakistan. He talked to me and gave me quite some advise about living in Brisbane, eg where to go and where not to (Do not go out alone in the night!). He did say that Sunnybanks is a nice place to go… which is my next stop once I reach Brisbane.

Reached Brisbane at 9.30pm, KS fetched me to his house, which I will be staying for 4 days.

Day 2: (29 June)
Day 2 was a long day. First time moving around Brisbane. I woke up at 8am and had breakfast at Hungry Jacks (which is Burger King). Love the bacon and egg, tastes just like Egg McMuffin. Speaking of which, I haven’t had Macdonald in Brisbane yet. Haha.

After breakfast, bought pillows at K Mart, then KS brought me down to QUT to get my student card. The photo that they took of me really suck. They made me look damn fat in the photo =(. After that, we walked to city from QUT to open up my bank account. I opened mine in Commonwealth Bank.

Saw phones, I will be getting an iPhone soon I guess. If they allow me to get my iPhone with my Visa (they had this policy that you can’t sign plan with a one year visa), I’m definitely getting one!

Dinner was at Little Singapore in Sunnybanks. Food was not too bad. Expensive but big portion. It cost me about AUD$10 for that meal. No picture because camara battery was low.

Day 3: (30 June)
Woke up and had a chat with KS’s china house mate, Jo. She speaks Teo Chew (my dialect) and she’s a really funny person. We heard from her that she’ll be going to this winery called Sirromet, so we decided to tag along too.

We got lost and went to the wrong exit twice. Haha… ultimate sway. When we reached, Emily (KS’s other house mate and lease owner) and Jo had already reached with their family.

Some photos courtesy of KS (and his DSLR). I only had a camara phone with me at that time.

On the road.

Highway.

On the way up to Sirromet.

The main building at Sirromet.

The wineyard is bald coz it’s winter.

Barrels of wine.

Machines.

Closer look at the barrels of wine. The characteristics of wine take after the barrel/wood.

Yeast. Why is it red color? I forgot to ask.

Wine tasting. I had the wine cup as souvenir. We had 1 sparkling, 2 red, 2 white and 2 other… I think it’s red too.

The tour ended and we were free to roam around. Took a few pictures of that area… that place have a really nice view.

That’s me in the photo.

The sky was beautiful so I got KS to snap a picture for me.

Ok this picture is taken using my camara phone.

We spotted kangaroo. That is KS trying to take pictures of the kangaroo.

Baby kangaroos!!!

Taken in the car using my camara phone. Can’t really see the kangaroo.

Lunch was at Toowong, sushi for $2, bought 3. Yummy. After lunch we went St Lucia to inspect the house Wen Minn found.

Had noodles for dinner, not too bad. One thing about food in Australia, it can’t go bad. Food is generally good, I can even say that it’s better than in Singapore. Haha.

Day 4 (01 July) = rotting at home.

Day 5: (02 July)
Before leaving the house to UniLodge, had an hour long talk with Jo. Left for Unilodge at about 12.30pm, and then realised that I can only check in at 2pm. =_= So in the end I waited for one and a half hour.

By the time I got my key, moved up to my room (which is at lvl 19), unpack everything, it was already dark. Took a peek out of my window, not too bad.

My room.

Bathroom. Really clean.

Television in the room, which is pretty redundant.

The night view.

Dinner was at Toowong.

Day 6: (03 July)
Hmm, basically I spent this day exploring the city (but forgot to bring my camara out). After having lunch, KS called me and I went to his house to get his internet cable and the photos he took at Sirromet. While waiting for him to transfer the photos into my hard disk, I went to have a chat with Jo again (really nice chat buddy!). After talking about everything, we headed out together for dinner.

Jo came one day before me, so she doesn’t really have an idea how Brisbane is like, so we brought her to Toowong for dinner. Hmm, we wanted to go to three monkeys after that, but three monkeys was pretty full, so we settled at this place KS called Little Eiffel tower, which I THINK is at Milton. Well, any place is fine as long as we can sit down and talk. And so we sat down and talked… till 12.30am before we head back home. Haha. It was freaking cold and windy and I was practically shivering. Lol.

Day 7: (04 July)
Went to explore city again, this time with a camara.

First, I went down to Coles to get my daily necessities. After buying my stuff, I start to take out my camara and then snap pictures of the city while walking back to UniLodge. Brisbane City is much more smaller than Orchard, pretty boring if I’ve really got to comment. However the street performers were really cool!

Her singing is not too bad.

“Live Performances Today at 12pm, 1pm, 2pm”

Visitor Information Centre.

HMV!

I love this one.

More buildings.

Nice touch in their buildings.

Hungry Jacks!

This picture was taken because of that extreme hairstyle guy. He walked too fast.

Walkway covering.

Another street performer. Seen him performing three times already.

On the way back…

This way straight down to Margaret Street (where I’m staying now)

The casino. I didn’t realise that it was a casino.

Dustbins.

Australia Flag!

Margaret Street, this way down to UniLodge.

Bus stop.

Home!

Had a chat with a Singaporean staying in UniLodge, she’d already stayed in UniLodge for one and a half years. She gave me quite a few advise which I thought was quite helpful, including how to choose your project mates! Haha.

I’m going to buy pots and pans tomorrow and then start cooking already!

And I’m out.

Esta semana, huyendo un poco del excesivo ruido de los estrenos del verano, decidimos poner el ojo sobre dos cintas que tuvieron escasas salas en su exhibición en México. Una de ellas, sigue en cartelera.
Basada y adaptada de una obra teatral, Frost/Nixon: La entrevista del escándalo es una suerte de docudrama filmado por Ron Howard que se ocupa de aquella célebre serie de entrevistas realizada por el presentador televisivo David Frost a un Richard Nixon caído en la desgracia, tras el escándalo de Watergate. Todos conocemos el final, pero aun así la película no carece de cierta tensión y suspenso.
Tres monos, por su parte, es un filme cuyo hilo argumental resulta sumamente atractivo, pero cuyo desarrollo excesivamente pausado exige una paciencia heroica del público.

As ever, guess the film from the still, and place your answer in the comments below

ETA:

Some interesting guesses, but none got it right – it’s Road House.

Distant and Climates director Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s new film Three Monkeys held the award for best film and best director at Cannes last year.
This Sunday only, The Auteurs are showing it for free before it’s nationwide release in theatres.
Just sign up and watch!

http://www.theauteurs.com/films/1293

http://www.theauteurs.com/sections/24

]]> http://esinemasal.wordpress.com/2009/04/19/3-maymun-three-monkeys-2008/ Sun, 19 Apr 2009 19:49:15 +0000 Rüzgar http://esinemasal.wordpress.com/2009/04/19/3-maymun-three-monkeys-2008/ http://speilet.wordpress.com/2009/04/12/kort-om-filmer-sett-1/ Sun, 12 Apr 2009 16:03:11 +0000 trondjo http://speilet.wordpress.com/2009/04/12/kort-om-filmer-sett-1/ http://squallyshowers.wordpress.com/2009/03/10/the-slate-whos-doing-what-to-whom-and-for-how-much/ Tue, 10 Mar 2009 15:43:31 +0000 Squally Showers http://squallyshowers.wordpress.com/2009/03/10/the-slate-whos-doing-what-to-whom-and-for-how-much/

A round-up of what the trades are tittering about:

• Universal Pictures is circling around Sean Penn to bust the heads of a Mexican cartel in, er, Cartel. Ghosts of Cite Soleil director Asger Leth dips into the Third World muck again. Cartel’s being described as an “action vehicle for Penn.” Here’s hoping it’s the BIGGEST, GAYEST action vehicle ever (that will make you stand up and cheer!). (Variety)
• Checks are being waved in front of Milla Jovovich to star in Mile Zero. If Milla’s desperate enough, she will play a woman who goes to work on an oil derrick in an effort to clear her father’s name. Please god let there be zombies. (Hollywood Reporter)
• Joss Whedon has written a horror spin called The Cabin in the Woods. Those fighting for the top bunk (and presumably also fighting an unmentionable evil and/or power tool) are Richard Jenkins, Bradley Whitford, Kristen Connolly, Chris Hemsworth, Anna Hutchison, Fran Kranz, and Jesse Williams. Should hit screens on Feb. 5, 2010. (Hollywood Reporter)
• The short, sordid story of ’70s jailbait rockers The Runaways is being made into a film called, er, The Runaways, and based on the memoirs of lead singer Cherie Currie. Drug abuse, alcohol abuse, Joan Jett sapphism and 15-year-olds yelling “Cherry B-b-b-b-bomb!” are assured. The prospect of Dakota Fanning as Currie? Well, we can dream. White Stripes associate Floria Sigismondi writes and directs. (Variety)
• Diane Keaton is likely to join Harrison Ford and Rachel McAdams in the comedy Morning Glory. Harrison is a cranky TV anchor involved in the morning talk show wars. Directed by Roger Michell, whose The Mother is worth seeking out for its young Daniel Craig and geriatric sex. (Production Weekly)
• Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s Three Monkeys has changed hands following New Yorker Films going bust. Zeitgeist Films will now distribute the Cannes prize-winner. Expect it to bow in New York in April, with hopefully dates elsewhere thereafter. (Indiewire)
• Kevin Smith has changed the title of A Couple of Dicks to A Couple of Cops. He also is offering a reward for his missing balls. Bruce Willis and Tracy Morgan will play two detectives on the trail of a 1952 baseball card when not asking themselves, “Whatever happened to Kevin Smith’s balls?” (Variety)

Here is a film that shows what cinema can really do. Not much visually happens in it, even less is said, and there is absolutely no musical score. Yet, it provides for a vivid and moralistic depiction of a family torn asunder when one act of folly leads to several more and all three of them become ensnared in a web of deceit, betrayal, and violence.

The father Eyüp (Yavuz Bingol) is the driver for Servet (Ercan Kesal), a national politician who falls asleep at the wheel one night and fatally injures a pedestrian. Fearful for his career, Servat bribes Eyüp to take the rap for him and, having agreed to do so, the latter is sentenced to a year in prison. Meanwhile, Eyüp’s wife Hacer (Hatice Aslan) is concerned that their son Ismail (Rifat Sungar) is becoming indolent and withdrawn. Thus, she resolves to get him the only job that he has shown an interest in. As this would involve buying a car, she approaches Servet for an advance on the money that he has promised to Eyüp, only for the encounter to lead to an adulterous relationship between the pair of them. Of course, it is only a matter of time before they are found out and further tragedy inevitably ensues.

Now, fear not if this just sounds like the standard fare churned out by some dreary soap opera. In truth, the plot is merely a means by which director Nuri Bilge Ceylan can study his characters’ decisions and their consequences in slow and deliberate fashion.

Indeed, the audience observes very little of what takes place in this story. We do not see the road accident, but we see Servet’s worried reaction afterwards to it. We do not see what Ismail is able to glimpse through the keyhole, but his unbridled anger when he later confronts his mother is all too apparent. We learn of a tragedy in the family’s past in an unconventional manner and little reference is ever made to it again. Yet, it clearly weighs heavily over their lives together.

Instead, the audience witnesses what happens in the periods between such moments, when the characters are still working things out in their heads. Accordingly, many of the scenes involve characters lying on couches or beds as they stare off into the middle-distance. To compensate for this inactivity, much of the camerawork is done in close up. Therefore, the audience can see every bead of sweat on a character’s face, every muscle twitch, every shift of the eyes as they brood. In contrast, some of the more dramatic scenes are shown using a very wide angle. Nature dominates the scene, with the characters’ presence rendered almost insignificant in contrast

In fact, it almost goes without saying that the film abounds with portents and metaphors. Trains dramatically thunder past in loud and abrupt fashion. Ships bob together yet apart out on the water. The dirge of a ring tone from an unanswered mobile phone is a forewarning of impending doom that goes unheeded. The sky grows intensely dark at important times and, as the tension breaks, down pours the heavy rain. Accompanying this is a screen filled with a dark but impressive array of colours.

All of this serves to create a mood of tension, anxiety, and unease. It weighs as heavily on the film as the oppressive heat does. Everyone has something to be guilty about. No one makes the right choices. In seeing, hearing, and speaking no evil, these characters are really just trying to ignore its consequences. However, in doing so, they merely slide further and further down a spiral of misdeeds and the film’s tidy yet open ending suggets that their fall from grace has further yet to go.

On the whole, an intense and hugely noteworthy film that feels a fraction of its length when it ends, yet seems to be timeless whilst watching it.

This review contains spoilers. Viewer discretion is advised

Dark brooding clouds hover around a couple recovering from an aftermath. Guilt melting on the wrinkled face, hand blithely perched on forehead waiting for an undoing of fate. Smoke emanating from a face hopelessly silent like battered streets following a hurricane, looking at the sky for an answer that has never returned. The couple’s unwilling chemistry awaits the rain or may be an absolution. An image cast a spell on my senses and I had to pick up this film. If the image could talk so much about a film, I wondered what the film would be like.

At the onset you may expect that the three monkeys will be a metaphorical film about the obvious meaning but make no mistakes, this film just borrows a cue from that philosophical undertone and weaves cinematic magic. The proverbial three monkeys are a hapless husband, his guilt soaked wife and his embittered son. See no evil, hear no evil and speak no evil is what the family surrenders to when a coercive politician turns their lives upside down. Directed by Nuri Bilge Ceylan, Uc Maymun is an artistic meditation of relentless guilt, searing imagery and the vicious circle of vice. It won the award for best director at Cannes 2008.

Turkish politician Servet (Ercan Kesal) falls asleep at the wheel as he drives through the woods at night. He runs over someone and is desperate to hide his crime in order to save his political career. Servet’s crime is now covered up by his loyal driver, Eyup (Yavuz Bingol), who takes the blame on himself after Servet’s promise of hefty lump sum money. Eyup accepts his fate of a year’s imprisonment in lieu of the money. Wife Hacer (Hatice Aslan) and son Ismail (Ahmet Rifat Sungar) are coming to terms with his absence in their own ways. Hacer finds her son becoming aimless and unmotivated. She approaches Servet to pull them out of their misery. She falls for Servet and indulges in sexual infidelity. This is witnessed by her son Ismail. One lie leads to a domino of lies, deceit and rage. Meanwhile Eyup, the husband returns and becomes suspicious. In a fit of rage Ismail kills Servet.

The acting from each character is breathtakingly understated, constantly reminded me of Trois couleurs: Bleu. In fact the depiction of mood is similar to Tarkovsky (Mirror and The Sacrifice; the only movies of Tarkovsky that I have seen). Dialogue is minimal but the panting, the pauses, the uncomfortable angst-ridden silence, the loud ringtone; makes you almost hear their emotions even when they are not enacting them out. The sound is perfectly married to the narrative. You can hear the scream for freedom from that loud ringtone, from the train that runs past the house killing silences of waves ebbing from nearby sea, sounds of speeding train and Eyub walking uncomfortably under those tracks. Everyone is trying to come out of their shells of dreary existence.

The camera ellipses are conspicuous by their ‘absences’ and that defines the movie. The opening scene captures the sound of a screeching car and the accident is heard in the backdrop, the camera on the politician’s face mapping his brilliant expression of an oncoming loss in the elections more than the guilt of a hit-and-run. Hacer sleeping with the politician is off camera, while the camera focuses on Ismail’s eye peeping from a key hole. Soon after his rage and his refusal to accept this bitter reality is what the camera focuses on. Ismail killing the politician is again not shown but the cold confession of “I did it” and the fantastic reaction portrayed by Hacer. These three sequences are what define the film’s intent to hide a disaster but to show the reactions and what becomes of the people associated with it. It’s more with how each one of us cope with continuity of a calamity surpassing its transitory existence.

Initially it is not apparent that the couple ( Hacer-Ayub) lacks chemistry but still you empathize with Hacer when she confesses her obsession with Servet. How do you know it? You know this from the director’s eye of subtlety that there was prevailing uneasiness in the marriage even when it does not form part of the mise-en-scene. The shot when Hacer confronts and confesses her love to Servet is interesting. There are no close ups. On the contrary it is an extreme long shot with the backdrop of a cliff overlooking dark clouds foreboding the essence of their ailing chemistry. The color palette is kaleidoscopic ranging from sepia, to green to natural, almost as though the sun doesn’t rise in this city, they are just dark times. The scene with Ismail’s imagination of his dead brother walking in to the house is chilling and subtly conveys the yearning. Both men witness this imagination in their darkest hours. The final scene is a visual feast with his redemption, washing off his sins or is it that they are just passed on? By the end of the movie you feel like you are gradually being released by an unnerving hold of a python. The tension is taut and yet languid in its pace.

The film has a layered spiritual sub text which questions our morality. We end up committing crime which we would have never imagined as though our lives have no control on our actions. Is it righteous of man to denounce his morality to salvage human bonds? Does existence and survival justify the espousal of sin?

This post was originally posted at PassionForCinema : http://passionforcinema.com/uc-maymun-three-monkeys-film-review/

]]> http://timinator.wordpress.com/2009/03/01/three-monkeys/ Sun, 01 Mar 2009 11:32:09 +0000 Timinator http://timinator.wordpress.com/2009/03/01/three-monkeys/

Last week I won, via a Facebook group, tickets to see Three Monkeys. This film has garnered excellent reviews, including winning Best Director at last year’s Cannes festival for Turkish director Nuri Bilge Ceylan.

My tickets were for the British Film Institute at South Bank, so we went down last night to catch a showing in their tiny studio theatre.

I thought it was excellent. Like Ceylan’s other film I’ve seen, Uzak, it’s very quiet. There are long periods of close-ups of people’s faces; there’s no background music; almost none of the “big events” happen on-screen. It is gloomy and moody. It’s all about aftermath, about the choices people make not to confront things.

It looks gorgeous: high-def digital video really delivers here. The story makes you ponder duty and fidelity and obsession and family and money and youth. There are dark laughs and tense moments and lots of sadness.

I saw a photo exhibit in the entryway, but didn’t realise until this morning that it was Ceylan’s photography.

No advance screenings for Madea Goes to Jail, unfortunately (Tyler Perry is an interesting phenomenon, but they’ve given up on screening his movies for an irrelevant press). Some uncharacteristically good things showing up on Oscar weekend, though. Reviews I wrote for the Herald:

Fired Up. “A funny movie, smartly cast and played at a rapid-fire pace.”

Ballast. “A ton of bricks.”

Three Monkeys. “The buck doesn’t stop here.”

The Class. “Just a little less exciting than its reputation.”

Medicine for Melancholy. “Usually, this is called stalking.”

“see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil”

Droga wiodąca od spokojnej mądrości stanowiącej fundament nauk koshin-do ku śmietnisku kultury masowej była szeroka i prowadziła najwyraźniej z górki. Mizaru, Kikazaru i Iwazaru – początkowo symbol mądrości i odrzucenia zła – udało nam się w ciągu kilku dziesięcioleci zdegradować do ikonki popkultury, symbolu graniczącego z cynizmem konformizmu lub braku odwagi cywilnej. Każdemu według jego potrzeb, zwykł mawiać klasyk. Nie będziemy zatem z klasykiem dyskutować i uznamy z pokorą, że mamy obecnie to, na co zasłużyliśmy. Przynajmniej większość z nas.

Trzy mądre małpy – przynajmniej takie były intencje i eksplikacje szintoistycznych nauk – miały przypominać nam o konieczności i obowiązku odrzucenia zła pod każdą postacią. Odmowa uczestnictwa w tym co złe i odrażające poprzez odwrócenie wzroku, zasłonięcie uszu i zamknięcie ust miała jednoznaczną interpretację będąc równoznacznikem bytu bezgrzesznego, rezultatem świadomego wyboru, przykładem do naśladowania i przywilejem mędrców.

Najdziwniejszy jest jednak los który spotkał czwartą małpę – Shizaru, mającą symbolizować niezgodę na czynienie zła. Shizaru znikła z szintoistycznej ikonografii jako pierwsza, gdzieś na początku XVII wieku, aby już nigdy więcej nie powrócić.

Przypatrując się jej nielicznym, przetrwałym wizerunkom, trudno powstrzymać się od gorzkiego uśmiechu. Siedziała obok swych uśmiechniętych towrzyszek z raczej przestraszonym wyrazem pyska osłaniając skrzyżowanymi rękoma podbrzusze i okolice krocza.

Pewnie miała swoje powody.

Three Monkeys (Nuri Bilge Ceylan, 2008). Not as fine as Ceylan’s previous film, Climates, lacking a certain level of mysteriousness (the parable here, about the ripple effect of truth getting covered over, is a little too about-exactly-what-it’s-about, if you get my drift), but that leaves a lot of room for excellence. And the opening sequence is awesome. (full review 2/20)

Fired Up (Will Gluck, 2009). Some kind of combo of Meatballs and M*A*S*H, full of male energy and appealing performers and unexpectedly good vibes. (full review 2/20)