Pink is the new Black

Watched Harry Potter last Thursday 120707 and despite garnering lukewarm reviews for itself, I thought that the movie was rather nice. Granted that the crowd was overtly enthusiastic; screaming, clapping, whistling and chanting in unison, I enjoyed the film tremendously.

Evil is swathed in the most hideous shade of colour for this movie, poisonous pink. Dolores Umbridge is wonderfully played by Imelda Staunton. She is the amalgamation of all our worst school teachers, a chronically strict and arrogant instructor who seeks only to carry out the ministry’s fullest intention in suppressing and denying the news of the resurgence of Lord Voldermort (wonder if I’m tagged? Eww…so geeky). The despicable, petty government functionary masks her prejudice and sadism in blinkered loyalty to her irrationally paranoid boss Cornelius Fudge. Her acting was subtly nuanced; nonchalantly sipping tea, savoring every ounce of exquisite agony derived from executing medieval methods of torture on her students. Her words are gilded with sarcasm and speeches filled with poisonous accusatory insinuations. She seems to echo my junior college principle in the way she pronounces her cruel diktats with a passive-aggressive feminine sweetness. The insincerity and artificialness of her dull but precisely memorized speeches clearly articulates the sinister intentions of the ministry and is similar to how they choose to instill “loyalty” back at ACJC. Her annoying silvery throat-clearing cough which she uses so rudely to interrupt everybody whenever she hears or sees something she violently disagrees with is exactly how I imagined it when I was reading the book. Pink and perky, she soon becomes the students' nightmare: a cheery commissar whose smile gradually fades away revealing a face of cruel malignity with a mouth contorted into an otherworldly rictus.

You may be wondering why I am talking so much about Umbridge. Well that’s because she has been allowed to dominate the screen time for far too long, proving to be a great distraction to the story. Because of the lack of judicial distribution of screen time (although Alex would disagree and tell you that everybody has precisely 15 minutes...pffth TJC always has to be right...anyways), this series continues in it’s unwavering tradition of endorsing a shocking waste of talent which includes Maggie Smith (Minerva MacGonagall), Emma Thompson (Sybil Trelawney); both of whom I simply adore and Julia Walters (Mrs. Weasley) just to name but a few. However the thespians truly owned the small snippets of screen time which they share with their younger co-stars. It’s nice to see Alan Rickman (Severus Snape) in a more active role other than his watered-down camos of forcing Harry and Ron to study.

I’m glad that Emma Watson (Hermione Granger) has taken heed to what critics have been lamenting about for the past 4 films. To say that she’s overly melodramatic is stating the obvious. Only she has been so oblivious to the alarming fact of her deplorable acting and blatantly ignores the overwhelming responses to that. Darling there’s more to acting than frowning and it’s a movie not a soap opera so spare us your theatrics. With that said Evanna Lynch (Luna Lovegood) is a breath of fresh air. No more Little Miss confused a.k.a. Hermione hogging the silver screen thank god. And I know I’ll be saying this for the umpteenth time but I simply love her eyes. So pretty.

There are many out there bemoaning the fact that her longest book having being reduced into the shortest film yet produced sacrifices too much narrative for effects. But then again by consensus it's not really her best work. I don’t see how this should hinder us from enjoying the movie. The stark difference between watching and reading is that a movie manages to capture a scene what a book tries to achieve in many words. J. K. Rowling’s strengths are her arresting narrative and vivid description of characters which I think was well captured in the movie. The intensely breath taking magic duels in the cavernous blacked tiled Ministry of Magic, the clandestine and illicit “army” spearheaded by Harry and the broom rides through London is simply magic. Although I wish they had taken more time to introduce the newer characters instead of just flooding us with so many new faces. I mean I don’t even know who they are until I see the credits and these are people who are going to reappear in the later books.

Oh dear i just realised that my blog's pink haha.

Ring any bells? An all too familiar sight haha

I have my reservations about *ahem*

What defines your sexuality?

Just because you make delicate French pastries doesn’t make you, dare I say the taboo and highly derogatory term, gay? Can we only settle for butch “manly” cookies with chucks?

Are we only to settle for mind numbing, highly offensive novelty gangster rap?

Readily brushing aside intimate, introspective films and deeming them as inappropriate on the grounds that’s it’s effeminate to feel and empathize?

Recently Alex asked why on earth would I pay good money and go watch a sappy movie such as “No Reservations”. I threw the question back at him and asked why not? Is it because one might feel emasculated by the show? But of course a real man who is comfortable with his sexuality wouldn’t be unduly perturbed by a trivial movie. Since when did watching fantasy films of exotic girls with asses that wouldn’t quit become a measure of “macho-ness”? How is watching wrestling a litmus test of being heterosexual? Do we really need to watch sweaty men pitting sheer brute strength against one another with their writhing bodies theatrically thrown about to jolt the testosterones? If a film is all it takes to threaten one’s sexuality then I think we have a serious problem. We have to stop living the lie people. It’s quite laughable now that I’m penning it down on paper. It sounds absurd and exaggerated but that is exactly how people are reacting. It is the typical mould of how boys should and must be behave. A true man sheds blood, never tears. Yar if you like live in the Middle Ages where a careless brush against the hand of a woman is enough to make her pregnant.

What’s with the constant swearing and maniacal fervour of objectifying women? Alex asked if I could introduce him to the girls I know. I replied that they would probably be so soured by the experience that they would definitely become lesbians if they manage to survive the traumatizing ordeal of going on a date with him. Of course I didn’t mean it in an offensive way. All was done in good humour. You have to be in that moment to fully appreciate the spontaneity and genius-ness of the retort.

Of course there’re always two side to any situation and I’m sure I need not elaborate on what is considered as too sensitive although I must say the unwritten law of acceptable male social conduct needs to be updated pronto. People can be so shallow and narrow-minded at times.

Anyways i can't wait to watch "No Reservations". Joey says that Catherine Zeta-Jones baths her hair in cavier to keep it all black and glossy but it's like 700 plus per treatment. And she uses truffle oil too. Sounds like she's cooking her hair. Maybe she's taking her role too seriously. Haha. Rich people do find the strangest way to splurge. Sneaks on 21st July but i have to wait till 6 September before it shows here. Irritating. Grr...

I think i taste my shampoo

AGO

Sorry been busy recently. Well so much has been happening that i haven't had much time to recollect. In the mean time here's a review i did for the Singapore chapter of the American Guild of Organist (AGO). Quite embarrassing really haha. They butchered the original review and drastically shortened it. It's sickeningly optimistic now but you have got to admit it's much more accessible and readable now. I mean who actually cares about structure and harmony right? Just read the review and by pass the photo. It's terribly unflattering and i have the forehead of "Luo Han". Woe to me. haha.

So here's the link. Proceed at your own risk.
http://www.singaporeago.org/

Of Sex, Drugs and Alcohol

Here’s a truncated version. The argument was more convincing and sounder in my head than on paper. Maybe it’s in the delivery.

What's with people trying to persuade me to go clubbing and drinking recently? Just because I have antediluvian ideas of fun, and yes I admit that I'm a little conservative, doesn't mean I'm not enjoying myself. What's so bad about having a picnic at the Botanical Gardens when the weather is more forgiving? Dozing off on the freshly cut verdant fields letting your senses be greeted with the voluptuous fragrance of a myriad of flora, or reading a book beneath the shade isn't so bad an idea right? Granted that the branch doesn't fall on you, you should be experiencing an afternoon of unadulterated bliss.

My introvert nature would definitely not auger well with the thumping beats of a club. The odious din of the music could be compared to tribal war drumming at best and it definitely is not conducive for conversations. The last thing I need is to have alcohol addle my brain, obscuring my ability to think rationally and having embarrassed myself for having stuck my tongue down the throat of a complete stranger or become loud and boastful and eventually finding myself at the disadvantageous end of a drunken brawl. Thing could be so much worse, imagine being so wasted that you end up hurling all over the place like a baby that isn't burped well. Having people pull your hair back as you vomit all the intoxicating alcohol with such ferocity that your head glistens with sweat. Better still waking to find yourself plagued with a terrible handover with no pieces of clothes covering your shame in the aftermath of a bacchanalian orgy.

Why do we have to abuse alcohol to achieve that elusive “high”? Why should we depend on alcohol to liberate our minds and to cast all our worries aside with gay abandon?

Having to concentrate on not stepping on others is hard work enough but to be distracted pushing away eager sweaty palms as they climb lustfully up your ass or thigh is a whole different ball game. I certainly don’t wish to feel somebody or something hard brushing up against my hip.

I don’t smoke like a chimney nor do I drink like a fish. So what do I do if I were to actually go? I’m too uptight and self conscious to go dancing and I’m terribly clumsy. I would just be wrecking everybody’s fun if I were to be let loose on the dance floor.

It's not that I'm bias against clubs. It's just that there are so many dodgy characters there and sexual promiscuous people there. Imagine sitting at the counter and being hit on by drunkards who can't even discern their right hand from their left let alone distinguish guys from gals. I want to hook up with a sugar-daddy or mommy, not a recovering alcoholic with a liver damaged from cirrhosis or intravenous drug user.

Care to join me for a drink? Tempting huh? Haha.

Baking away your frustrations

There's this certain person that never fails to pick a bone with me. He sanctimoniously preaches and corrects me and yet is too lazy to lift a finger to help or even offer suggestions on what is it that I’m doing wrong. I seriously don’t see why he should be so offended by the way I work or interact with others since I’ve always been like this and I don’t see anybody complaining. Whatever I do he has to point and laugh derisively. He views my actions through tinted glass and expects me to conform to his idea of what is “normal”. On a few occasions I tried to hold my ground. However nothing could triumph over the perverse mind of such an individual. My feeble attempts at reasoning pales in comparison to his nonsensical diatribe condemning my actions and I always leave feeling stupid for indulging him in a nonsensical game of mindless squabbling. He’s the one to comment that I’m petty, picky and high-maintenance. What the nerve. As for the unmitigated disaster that ensued - caused by my very own hubris and ineptitude, as opposed to the unassuming calmness of mind and soundness of a well structured argument, both of which are unimpeachable - I not only wept with frustration but with great annoyance. And I am usually not one to be easily dissuaded.

Then again, pertinaciousness and pride do have a nasty habit of manifesting themselves in an irrational manner. Once bitten, twice apparently not shy. I still “confront” him head on. My impetuous nature against his steady, imperturbable confidence or rather misplaced confidence of self is synonymous to the Wolof proverb of how an egg should not wrestle against a rock. It’s not the terse arguments you have when somebody knocks into your car but more like mindless childish incessant squabbling. It definitely wouldn’t drive you up a wall and force you to hurl a stream of invectives at the person. But you feel irritated because he has to have a say in everything and although you know that it wouldn’t make an iota of difference by rebutting back you couldn’t let him have the satisfaction of winning. I would love to be the magnanimous one, hold my peace and not participate in the trivial squabbling but he has this uncanny ability forcing me participate in this frivolous game of “I’m rubber, you’re glue. Whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you?” I wonder if this is gonna have serious repercussions on how I treat people in the future. It’s as if he enjoys pissing me off. Whatever Man!

Anyways gonna bake my frustrations away…it has been quite a while since I baked so brace yourselves. Baking is so therapeutic. It's so methodological, sometimes bordering on clinical but it's also always so meditative. If i were to bake all my frustrations into the cake wouldn't the cake taste awful? Hope you bought insurance people haha.

Movie Love

Went out for a movie this past weekend with Alex and Dennis. It was more of an impulse really. Woke up that Friday morning and felt that I needed a decent movie to set my systems straight. It has been bugging me for weeks. With the deluge of blockbusters cascading in within this small frame of time, vying to see who could chalk up the most revenue and be crowned this summer's biggest hit, I’m pressurized to get out of my solitude and watch at least one lest I’m all left out and having to resort to lousy conversational topics like “guess who I did a proctoscopy for the other day.” And since my parents and brother have collectively chosen to abandon me and watch the shows on their own I haven’t had a choice but to drag myself out from my house and tear myself away from my organ. So much for family outings. Pffth!

I knew I wanted to watch "Priceless" since it’s a scintillating tale of how to snag yourself a rich person. The art of seduction is international so I shouldn’t be deterred that it’s a French film. This could well be an alternative lifestyle for me haha. Reminders to self, never sit the front row because it really hurts and unless the show is truly spectacular it simply isn’t worth.

Imagine enjoying the high life with somebody eagerly picking up the tab for up. Splurging on the most extravagant and useless of stuff, such as an ornate glided Faberge egg or exquisite august chandeliers without feeling abashed. All you need to do is just to march into any boutique shop, point wilfully in the general direction and the object of choice would be sitting at your home ready for you to chuck it aside with gay abandon. Relaxing at a café, sipping a bubbly glass of champagne and inhaling a long drag of smoke whilst enjoying the languor of a hot afternoon is simply too decadent. Leading a life of luxury and indolence is clearly the way to go for me at least haha. I guess it’s because I’m quite the thrifty in real life that’s why I have this perverse craving to spend money careless and without inhibition. No more "Travel & Living" for me. Hell truly has a place for people like me haha.

Going on flights of fancy, and in this case it’s not just dreaming up the wildest most luxurious holidays. I literally mean going on vacations as and when you desire. Want to indulge in authentic French haute cuisine? Chuck all worries aside and check yourself into the Jules Verne restaurant on the Eiffel tower and by pass the 4 month reservation. Want to be amazed by egg and bacon ice cream or oyster and passion fruit jelly? Then be seated at the Fat Duck and be impressed by the infinite wonders of molecular gastronomy. Can’t tolerate the bitter winters of New York? Well retreat to your personal island in the Bahamas or the French Polynesia and enjoy the euphoric solitude. Be deliciously sun-kissed or swim in the pristine waters as the vast expanse of the turquoise sea meets the azure sky. There’s no need for luggage. All the clothing would be bought there and then. Wear and throw. It’s as simply as that. The sheer luxury and indulgence is making me slightly delirious. The only thing that could probably elicit a similar emotion would be watching Pierre Cochereau improvise a scherzo that’s so full of rhythmic vitality in the vast expanse of the Notre Dame Cathedral or Tournemire, the colourist, coaxing the organ into singing a Gregorian chant that’s infused with his unique brand of intoxicating harmonies or even Marcel Dupre improvising a six voice double fugue. Of course I’m no fashiophile so I’ll be relatively cheap to maintain. Anybody interested? ;)

And the tips were quite common sense but I don’t know how much of it really works. Such as using half-finished sentences which simply drives the other party wild with curiosity and leaving them so eager to please. It allows you to be in full control of the situation and you have them at your beck and call. But this method seems to be really short-lived and doesn’t bear repetition. I got so scared for the main actor Jean, here played by Gad Elmaleh, when his sugar-mommy expressed her anger at him trying to play the field and told him to stop abusing the part of the blushing virgin.

Flirt using the technique you developed when you were 15. Be whimsically charming. Adopt a genial approach towards everybody. Consider all possibilities.

Use the distant but intently hearing look. Audrey’s performance is so wonderfully nuanced and subtle that it just whets your appetite for more.

Audrey was so convincing at the beginning as a shamelessly materialistic slut that you would enjoy slapping her without feeling remorse. Her insatiable appetite for the rich and famous makes you want to decry her as Jezebel, especially in the scene where she’s desperate and frantically scrabbles through her phone book trying very earnestly to hook up again. How she makes her way through parties targeting and isolating unsuspecting individuals like a hyena on the prowl, giving everybody lascivious winks whilst being clad in impressive designer brands, albeit dressing quite provocatively and ostentatiously. To see her take advantage of a man who’s so smitten with her makes you wanna scream injustice. But she slowly transforms into this lovable character and she redeems herself eventually as she realises what she’s jeopardizing and learning to appreciate what she has. This would be the fifth movie of her that I’m watching. Most recently would be "A Very Long Engagement". I vividly remember because that was my first M-18 show, and I cried eyes out during that one. I was reduced to a sniffling fool at the end of the show, so choked up on my tears and mucus. That show completely floored me.

Nudity helps in the unravelling and appreciation of the plot as far as this movie is concerned. What’s more it’s tastefully done. It’s not like porn which I assume to be grotesquely distorted and shamefully paraded. Everything is so tender, intimate and purposeful, nothing loud or vulgar. It’s love making not mindless sex. Alex apparently was quite excited that there was brief nudity but I didn’t I caught anything that’s outrageously brazen. In fact I think there were more scenes in “A Very Long Engagement”.

I must say this is a great break away from the Hollywood brand of romantic comedies and I’m relieved that such films still exist. Forget your klutzy Lindsay Lohan and the mind-numbingly boring plot-less teen chick flicks. It’s different because the lead actress is for once not trying to prove her worth and does things to get the guy’s attention. This is about a guy who loves a woman in spite of her flaws. This truly is what I would brand as “movie love”. I think Audrey's line differentiating charisma and looks is well worth quoting. Looks can't stand the test of time and is subjected to your whim and fancy but charisma exerts a greater sway on the person. It mesmerises instead of just commanding the immediate but short lived attention that looks promises.

I’ve just been introduced to Gad and truthfully I wasn’t really looking forward to seeing him in it because he was quite an insipid young man, his features too pointedly brought together to be instantly attractive for a romantic role such as this. He lacks the suave and sophistication of let’s say Richard Gear in Pretty Woman or like the stylish, debonair Pierce Brosnan in James Bond. However he exudes this innocence that’s so charming and appealing. You would think who in the right frame of mind would allow themselves to be manipulated by a woman whose sole purpose is to drain your reserves dry as she goes on her ravenous shopping sprees all in an attempt to bankrupt you. You could be expostulating that he’s such a wimp for allowing himself to be dictated by the woman but then you realise that he truly loves her and sincerely believes that things would work out for the better. How he sacrificed everything for her. His job, his innocence and his “security” that his rich lover promises. He’s so naïve that you could hardly bear to reprimand him. Love truly is patient and kind. Eventually he manages to insinuate his way into her affection and that's what counts.

Many think that we’re all pursing a forlorn hope of finding “movie love” Others think that “movie love” is a pernicious lie but I would love to experience it even just once. Recollecting the movie has left me feeling all fuzzy inside.

Cheers to a great movie and company. All smiles.

Junhui's Birthday Part 1

Last Saturday was Junhui’s birthday. Joey, Junhao and I decided to pool together our money to buy him a cooperative present. Of course Joey and I did the shopping since we’re more familiar with the peculiar literature he reads. Something that’s translated since the English language is too contemporary for his liking. Latin, Greek or French was what we agreed on.

“How about the French royalty?” I suggested, flashing him a book that I dug out. It speaks of how King Louis XIV, the largest ego in the 19th century, reigned over France with such outrageous pomp and pageantry. Their pompadour hairdos nesting on their heads with an excess of ribbons strewed all over. Vivid images of their flamboyant dressing start flooding my mind. Picturing them with rope-like necklaces of pearl strangled round their slender necks plunging down their heaving bosoms that are grossly exaggerated by the corset that binds their fragile frame was only too easy.

“Maybe we’re a little over the top.” Joey commented.

“Just a tad.” I replied casually.

Then there was a book with the cover showing Greeks cavorting in the gardens, sensuously barefooted, delirious with pleasure. Either that or the heat has gotten to them but I would rather the first interpretation. Pardon my indulgence.

“Too scantily dressed.” Joey said displaying a judgemental look.

I agree instinctively. Junhui was and is all about being prim and proper. Even baring of the naked wrist was far too decadent. I could almost hear him screaming utter depravity.

Joey showed me a book on Chinese history. The cliché cover immediately strikes you. Bright red with Chairman Mao’s face smacked dead centre encompassed by a halo with peasants below sticking out their chest swollen with pride, progressing arm in arm.

“I kinda like the cover. So edgy, but then again we’re no Stalin. It’s too propaganda for my liking.” I said bearing in mind that we’re are here to get a gift and not to campaign and crush the infidels. So much for not judging a book by it’s cover.

“We should really start reading the contents since it’s a book that we’re getting him.” I proposed.

“True, true.” answered Joey.

Due to our strict guidelines, we had to let go sleazy titles such as sex with the queen and sex through the ages with a heavy heart.

“So that’s why he spends so much time in this section.” I said poking fun at him.

“Shrewd observation.” replied Joey and we broke out in laughter. No traipsing into books that promotes vices. That should be reserved for his 21st birthday.

We were undecided whether to dabble in myths and legends since he’s really a factual reader a.k.a. mind-numbingly boring. Actually I’m no better, scrutinizing scores as if i were penning a will. Homer’s Iliad was an obvious choice but it being such a popular piece of literature seems to work against us because we weren’t sure if he has read it.

In the end after great mockery of the staff, who was kept extremely busy picking after Joey who chucks books into every possible nook and crevice, we set our eyes on this handsomely bound book on myths which could easily pass off as the Bible. How blasphemous if we mistook it and brought it to church. It’s gonna look so impressive on the shelf even if he doesn’t get about reading it. In fact the image of the Charmed Ones comes to mind when you picture the three of us crowding round it minus the spilling cleavage and stilettos. It’s quite an interesting picture and I hope that I’ve seared it into your minds. Images of our ‘cross-over’ performance of Macbeth in secondary school came flashing back. Imagine secondary school boys who aren’t even of age experimenting with ‘cross dressing’. We were so progressive. Truly we had the makings of great artists. Unappreciated in our own time. Anyways back to the story.

“We have to go.” prompted Joey impatiently tapping his watch. “We better not be late for his birthday,” as he continues highlighting our shortage of time, “it’ll be so embarrassing and impolite if we arrive later then him and I can’t imagine if he misconstrues it as a desperate last minute effort, which is so not the case.”

“Junhui’s time is quite elastic.” I retorted being slightly irritated but what he said was very true. It’s somebody’s birthday and of course you would want them to feel precious. Obviously Einstein didn’t manage to secure Junhui as a case study for his relativity mumbo-jumbo.

Only after paying did we realize that we had forgotten to get him a card. I dashed for the card section and found something utterly radical and refreshing. It’s not our usual glittery Hallmark card swathed in hues of pastel blue and pink or those cheesy cards with music and lights. It’s a picture of a horse baring all it’s teeth, smiling from ear to ear.

“That?!” exclaimed Joey in utter disbelief.

“Sure why not?” I innocently replied. “It’s so funky and we could write stuff like hope you forever remain smiling. No thanks to the Botox. Sweet and simple.

Being really tied for time we hurriedly re-queued although we're really lost as to what we're going to do with such a hideous card. We were nearing the cashier when we discovered that we lacked a pen to write with. How klutz can we get?

“Let’s pretend that we’re sampling pens.” suggested Joey with a mischievous grin.

“I may be crazy but I definitely don’t want to get thrown out for using their pen. We’ll borrow one from the station manager at Clarke Quay.”

Scurrying through the dawdling crowd, we nudged and elbowed our way through, fighting with fierce determination against the onslaught of people in the opposing direction. If Junhui were here he would suggest that I prod the people with my unsheathed umbrella which is dripping wet. “That’ll teach them to hog the lane.” commented Junhui in my head, vindictively laughing at their sorry state.

“We should take part in the Amazing Race.” said Joey.

“We gotta give others a chance at winning. However I’m not gonna deny that television needs us to boost their ratings. More kiasu and rude Singaporeans that people love to hate. We’re gonna be so infamous on that show.”