My greeting’s a little late, but as they say better than never. Here’s to another year of blogging and sharing seemingly trivial things – ok, really trivial things .

I’m starting my 2011 movie watching with the adaptation of Never Let Me Go (a book by Kazuo Ishiguro), starring Keira Knightley, Andrew Garfield, and Carey Mulligan. My headphones are ready (my sister is watching TV outside so I’ll be watching here on my laptop), and my video player is one click away. Then maybe I’ll have something to blog about tomorrow.

So have you seen the trailer of the new Julia Roberts flick?

This is the movie adaptation of Elizabeth Gilbert’s bestselling memoir Eat, Pray, Love. Chick flick you say? Maybe. But I’m a chick and I’ve always liked personal journey stories, so I’m right in the middle of this film’s demographic.

I saw an interview of Elizabeth Gilbert at YouTube and there she says that this is her story, and she wants to inspire people, but it doesn’t mean that everybody’s journey will involve pizza and Italy and Bali, and all those places she went to. I wholeheartedly agree. But it doesn’t mean I can’t dream about cross-country trips, road trips in cars with filled thule roof racks, or even trips beyond borders.

You just got to keep on dreaming. And waiting to finally do even a part of the “everything” you’ve always wanted yourself to be able to do.

The beauty of Let the Right One In resides in the way the horror remains grounded in a tragic kind of love.

Wesley Morris, Boston Globe

I do not like horror films. I was able to sit through a handful of them my whole life, and only in front of the TV screen (that’s if we don’t count Sweeny Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, which I don’t think really falls into the “horror” category). It’s cowardice, yes, and an utter distaste for gore and gruesomeness.

I’m not much for vampire movies, either. But when a friend asked me to check out this movie, in an effort to understand why it is deemed better than Twilight, I agreed.  I wasn’t courageous enough to voice out that I’m tempted to think that any other movie can be better than Twilight; I resolved to watch the film in broad daylight and was surprised to realize that it is worthy of all the praises.  It has good scares, of course; it is creepy; and it is beautifully constructed. It’s one of those fims that are more about the storytelling than about the story – the kind that critics love to rave about. The kind that is not commercial and mainstream.

Let the Right One In is a Swedish film that centers on Oskar, a perennially bullied teenager, and Eli, his new neighbor who for all appearances seem to be just another laconic 12-year-old girl. As the two form a bond, Eli’s secret begins to unravel, and let’s just say that “she” is more than that – she’s been 12 for a long time, just without any need for the best wrinkle creams to hide the fact.

I was taken by the chilliness of the film, and not just because it is more often than not fimed in a snowy landscape; it doesn’t have too many movements nor sounds, like what you’ll expect from the genre, but it is, nevertheless disturbing and, ultimately, better than that other film I mentioned in terms of filmmaking strengths. To be fair, though, I don’t think the two movies should be compared, despite the fact that both are love stories about a couple, half of which is a vampire and the other half is human. The similarity ends there.

The Secret Life of Bees (L-R: Queen Latifah, Sophie Okonedo, Jennifer Hudson, Alicia Keys, Dakota Fanning)

Based on the best-selling novel by Sue Monk Kidd, The Secret Life of Bees tells the story of Lilly Owens (Dakota Fanning), age 14, living in the south with a father (Paul Bettany) who doesn’t feel anything even as he watches his daughter bleed her knees on the torture spot he makes the night before her birthday. Set at the time when the Civil Rights Act (1964) is just being implemented, the only ally Lilly had was her caregiver, a black woman named Rosaleen (Jennifer Hudson). Together, they flee their town after Rosaleen was beaten by some white men; they were taken in by three sisters who live in a pink house – August (Queen Latifah) who grows bees for honey; June (Alicia Keys), a classical cellist and civil rights activist who for some reason cannot commit to the man she loves; and May (Sophie Okomo), the surviving half of a twin who, after her sister April’s death, became a perennially sad (literally wailing) person who writes notes on her “wailing wall” to release some of the feelings she later describes as “carrying the weight of the world.” 

If you hate sappy movies, then this one is not for you. As with many tales that speaks about the search for love, family, and identity,  the movie aims to touch the audience in a way that at some point makes you feel like someone’s tapping you on the shoulder and asking, “Are you feeling it now?” I would have said yes, if I was asked. But there’s a certain subtlety to it that keeps the film from going overboard with drama. I think perhaps the actors are to be thanked for that in a large part. Dakota Fanning carries the movie in her small deft hands. Since I saw her in the TV series Taken, I had always been a fan. She couldn’t make me cry now that she’s older and no longer playing her cuteness, but that is not to say she is a less effective actress. Dakota Fanning is a natural actress, if there ever is one. The other four women fill their parts very nicely; I couldn’t quite pick a favorite out of them.

In the end it’s about family – how they take care of each other and how, for some, you find your own family when your blood kin doesn’t treat you like one. It’s about hope and finding the strength within yourself to make room for forgiveness and moving on. It’s kinda sweet I can almost taste it.

Dear Leonard. To look life in the face, always, to look life in the face and to know it for what it is. At last to know it, to love it for what it is, and then, to put it away. Leonard, always the years between us, always the years. Always the love. Always the hours. – Virginia Woolf to her husband Leonard

The lives of quiet desperation tend to roar more deafeningly even when they cease. Loneliness lingers – in their art, in the lives they’ve affected and shattered, or in the ghosts of memories. The Hours is a film that offers no absolution. There is no joy whatsoever here. But there is beauty in the way everything was laid out, even in the lack of hope or just the mere illusion of it. You can expect nothing less from actresses of the caliber of Meryll Streep, Julianne Moore, and Nicole Kidman (who won the Oscar for portraying Virginia Woolf). Each was effective in her own role; each was affectingly pathetic. In the words of Virginia, each was “living a life I have no wish to live.”

One critic wrote that “Stephen Daldry’s The Hours suffers from misleading ideas about love, life, and death, some of which stem from its source novel by Michael Cunningham. But it remains the best-acted film of 2002, boasting one of the most spectacular casts I’ve ever seen in one movie. It seamlessly sews together three complicated and emotionally demanding storylines. And it works like the best poetry, giving us room to explore ideas and issues instead of narrowing itself to simple moral lessons.”

I remember one morning getting up at dawn, there was such a sense of possibility. You know, that feeling? And I remember thinking to myself: So, this is the beginning of happiness. This is where it starts. And of course there will always be more. It never occurred to me it wasn’t the beginning. It was happiness. It was the moment. Right then. – Clarissa Vaugn

Happiness, they say, is fleeting. But it is what everyone wants. What everyone is ultimately demanding from life in whatever form it may come. And when it hides its face, some people make drastic choices, convinced they don’t have any. Some choose life. Some choose death. If one is leaning towards the latter, then stay away from this movie. It can be more than just disturbing. For even when one chose life, she didn’t find happiness.

It would be wonderful to say you regretted it. It would be easy. But what does it mean? What does it mean to regret when you have no choice? It’s what you can bear. There it is. No one’s going to forgive me. It was death. I chose life. -Laura Brown

“a story of a woman who takes the long route instead of the short one to meet up with the man she loves”

Moira MacDonald of The Seattle Times said, “My Blueberry Nights is not for those who like movies in which things happen; rather, it’s for those in a mood to float, sometimes deliciously.”

Next to seasoned actresses like Rachel Weiss and Natalie Portman, Norah Jones looked bland. Which isn’t a bad thing because that’s what her character, Elizabeth, is supposed to be. You can look at this movie as a love story, an extended music video, an exhibition on stylized filmmaking, or a lesson on some life characters you’ll meet along the way. The movie was directed by Wong Kar-Wai, a Hong Kong-based filmmaker famous for his highly stylized films, music videos, and commercials.

Elizabeth is a heartbroken girl who ended up spending nights over a cafe run by Jeremy (Jude Law), munching on the blueberry pie nobody else ever orders. Thoroughly unhappy and hoping to find herself, she decided to leave New York one night without saying goodbye to Jeremy. Traveling by bus, she first ended up in Memphis where she juggled two jobs (in the morning she is Betty, working at a cafeteria, and during the nights she is Lizzie, a waitress in a pub). There she met a cop (David Strathairn) who drinks every night because his wife, Sue Lynne (Rachel Weiss), left him. She then moved to Arizona, where she took a job in a casino, as Beth. Here we meet Leslie (Natalie Portman), a girl with daddy issues. She’s a card player who totally trusts her own capacity to read people, but never trust others. Throughout her road trip, Elizabeth sends Jeremy letters, sharing with him her experiences while Jeremy tries to call every diner in the cities of her letters to reach her.

Elizabeth looked at Sue Lynne and Leslie with untrained but curious eyes. These are women who represent what she will never be – self-assured and walking the earth as if the world owe them something for their beauty. But she only wants one thing – a car. Probably so she can drive herself back to New York and back to Jeremy. The last letter she wrote is my favorite:

Dear Jeremy,
In the last few days I’ve been learning not to trust people. And I’m glad I failed. Sometimes we depend on other people’s mirror to define ourselves and tell us who we are. Each reflection makes me like myself a little more.

Elizabeth

In the end, of course, she came back to New York for the blueberry pies.

…like dancing about architecture

I probably should not be writing about another, more so an old, movie, not a lot of people know about.

But there’s something about this little treasure of a film that merits mention even 10 years after its limited release. Playing by Heart, originally titled Dancing About Architecture, is a movie I’ve long been wanting to see ever since I have become an X-Files fan. Gillian Anderson’s in it, yes, joining an impressive list of big-name stars – Angelina Jolie, Ryan Philippe, Sean Connery, Gena Rowlands, Dennis Quaid, Madeleine Stowe, Ellen Burstyn, Jay Mohr, Anthony Edwards, and John Stewart.

Its premise is simple – finding, losing, and holding on to love. Eleven seemingly unrelated characters deal with relationship problems, among which an elderly couple who began arguing about an affair that could’ve happened 25 years ago; an adulterous affair brought about by souring marriages; a socially awkward workaholic who thinks dating is “calculated artificiality ,” after marrying a man who turned out to be gay; and two Gen-X clubbers who amazingly have vocabularies of literature majors.

Angelina Jolie shines in this film, when she was a relative unknown. I don’t know if John Stewart has starred in any other movie but he was surprisingly good, and charming, as Gillian Anderson’s suitor here. Here’s one conversation involving Gillian’s character, one that I’ve had several times in my own life:

Friend: You’re a wonderful person. You should have someone in your life. That’s all I’m saying.

Meredith: I can still be a wonderful person and not have anybody in my life. Look, I’m just not interested in a relationship right now.

Friend: You are such a liar.

Meredith: I am such a liar.

I guess that says it all. But if I can quote one line that represents what the entire film is saying, it will be one from the elders:

…the wonderful thing about falling in love is that you learn everything about that person, and so quickly; and if it’s true love, then you start to see yourself through their eyes…and it brings out the best in you…and it’s almost as if you’re falling in love with yourself.

There’s this movie I’ve heard of once but quickly forgotten until I read about it again from The Fencesitter. It just came back to me while watching the opening credits that I knew there’s a movie that stars Freddie Highmore, Keri Russel, Jonathan Rhys Meyers, and Robin Williams.

August Rush is about an orphan who’s looking for his birth parents. He claims to be hearing them through the wind; through music. He leaves the adoption home he’s been staying on for the last 11 years and set on a journey to find the very people who gave him the music . Unknown to him, both his parents don’t know he is alive. Upon his arrival to New York, the city where he was created on the one night that should’ve lasted forever, it soon became apparent that Evan/August is a child prodigy. Untrained and unexperienced, writing and playing music came to him naturally. Which wouldn’t be such a mystery if the people who discovered him knew that his mother was a cellist who came from a line of classical musicians and his father was a rock musician. Nobody believes him when he say he’s following the music to find them. Why would they? They don’t have his gift.

Maybe not everyone will like this movie. It requires forgetting a certain level of maturity. It requires believing in a fantasy. Schmaltzy as the plot is, every music lover will find something to relate to. Even cry about. I loved it because I’m naturally sentimental – I believe in love at first sight and that people can feel they belong together even if they don’t really know each other; even if they don’t end up together just yet, they will find each other in the end. I believe in that kind of magic just as I believe I will someday write music. Fantastic as it may sound, watching this movie reminded me of those things. You know when they say something “has a heart”? Well, this film took mine as well.

Evan/August loves music more than he loves food. The movie clearly shows just how much it does, too. Watch it for the uber talented cast. Watch it for the music.

People who need people

Are the luckiest people in the world

We’re children needing other children

And yet letting our grown-up pride

Hide all the need inside

Acting more like children than children

From the song People (sung by Barbra Streisand), Funny Girl original motion picture soundtrack (1968)

Barbra Streisand’s first film role was that of Fanny Brice in this semibiographical movie account of the hit Broadway musical. She won the Academy Award for Best Actress in 1968, an honor she shared with the late Katharine Hepburn.

That scene when Fanny sang People is one of my favorites from the movie. I think it’s all because of Streisand and the song. In what should be a particularly romantic scene, with the two leads enjoying a rare moment alone, I entirely forgot about the leading man and focused on Barbra’s clear, awesome voice (although I must say that’s also because I’m not particularly charmed by the Don Juan type). I was compelled to ask a friend if she thinks Barbra Streisand is overrated. The answer was a clear no. I rest my case.

Fanny was funny. She was not a classic beauty but her ambition and sheer determination gave her a flourishing career in a business that normally only embraces belles and sex symbols. Then she fell in love. It didn’t end well – her husband rained on her parade, that’s why.

In another of my favorite scenes, Fanny comes out to greet the reporters after it became known that her husband, a pathological gambler, had been arrested for embezzlement. She was devastated while her back was turned, and then she faced the cameras with a bright smile and a handful of jokes. That’s an actress for you – image is everything; reality, secondary.

Another friend told me that people who appears to be gregarious and animated all the time are sometimes the loneliest people in the world. “Fun” is their way of taking the very “non-fun” parts of their private lives. I suppose there’s truth to that claim because I’ve seen some first hand. But it shouldn’t be our business to measure our cumulative loneliness. I think maybe we should start learning how to need each other. At least until we’ve come full circle and being needy starts to make us unhappy and it all becomes a joke.

…make the world stop right here. Make everything stop and stand still and never move again. Make the moors never change and you and I never change… No matter what I ever do or say, Heathcliff, this is me – now – standing on this hill with you. This is me, forever.

Cathy to Heathcliff, Wuthering Heights (1939)

The 1939 film that starred Laurence Olivier as the tortured Heathcliff and Merle Oberon as the spoiled and free-spirited Cathy Earnshaw is widely acclaimed as the greatest version in celluloid of Emily Bronte’s classic novel. Its focus on only half of the novel worked to its advantage, I believe. There’s enough torment enveloped in the tumultuous affair between the doomed lovers as it is without dwelling on the vengeful events that transpired after Cathy’s death.

As impossible love stories go, Cathy and Heathcliff are two very complex characters whose love, no matter how grand, was not able to prevail, much less get a chance. Cathy’s pronounciations, quoted above, meant nothing because she changes her attitude toward Heathcliff as soon as she changes from farm dresses to corsets. She realized he is her other half, but thought him beneath her in stature and therefore unworthy. Heathcliff, on the other hand, loved Cathy with all his soul but was far too consumed by his grudges. Even in death, he did not wish Cathy peace.

On a personal note, I’ve never hoped for the world to stop and stay the same. I still want change. Which is one way of saying I haven’t found that hill where I can stand on and declare that, “This is it! I have everything I could ever want, nothing else matters.” Its not even about material things but it will be too sappy to say that its about love. And what if I’ll never get to find that kind? Not Cathy and Heathcliff’s. Theirs is an obsession and the kind of love that destructs. I’ve always wanted a fairy tale. But when you’ve passed that age when you believe in princes and knights in shining armor, you’ll look into the mirror and see a girl in ordinary clothes looking back with her sad eyes.

Well, this is me now. It won’t last forever.