jamesnicolay Reviews

Butchered (2009)

Brillante Mendoza's "Kinatay" outscores every Filipino film for its masterful exploration of sound and its effect on people.

[9/10 · 29 September 2009]

If there's one thing about widely marketed Filipino movies which should improve dramatically, it's sound--I absolutely loathe the annoying synthesized staple background music being forced upon us each time the characters are set to spew their spit with their loud, hammy dialogues, or whenever someone is about to cry. That's why I applaud local indie films which at least feature original scores or unusual songs to give better local color to the story. Some experimental films by some of the innovative, unpopular directors even skip background music in order to give a sense of realism to their films. And what a relief--here comes Brillante Mendoza's "Kinatay"--which I believe outscores--pun intended--every Filipino film for its masterful exploration of sound and its effect on people.

"Kinatay"--before it won the Best Director Award in the most prestigious film festival in the world--was butchered by various international critics when the film was screened in Cannes. They blamed the unsteady video and the lack of light in about half of the entire film. Even the famous critic Roger Ebert dismissed "Kinatay" as the worst film ever screened in Cannes, even going as far as saying that he wanted to apologize to Vince Gallo for saying the same remark about his "The Brown Bunny." (I had the misfortune of seeing Gallo's film and I thought that Ebert should not retract his statement about Gallo's horrible, conceited trash.)

Movie watching for me has always been both a visual and an auditory experience. Often, movie makers tend to focus on the story or the actors or even special effects. But few directors actually bother to heighten music or sound as the most important aspect in a film. Quentin Tarantino, who's notorious for his wild taste in music in his films, is one of the directors who, I believe, highlights sound in his work. In his "Kill Bill Vol.2", one of the crucial scenes is when The Bride gets buried alive and the video of the movie is slowly diminished by the sight of dirt covering the entire screen. For a few seconds, we hear nothing but the sound of gasping, whimpering, and crying from the protagonist as her villains make loud noises with their shovels digging and throwing dirt to the screen. Experiencing this in a theater gives the audience a claustrophobic environment where we empathize with the experience of struggling of the character.

This sadistic manipulation of sound, for me, is crucial to understand "Kinatay." Mendoza wanted to make the audience fear more for the victim by making them see less details and hear more. By making the cries of Madonna nonstop and interspersing with the curses of the police officers, the audience feels equally threatened, abused, and angered. The background music reinforces the atmosphere of terror as it sounds like a masterful and unique score of a thriller or horror film.

I actually think it's pretty obvious that since the visuals are intentionally dark and shaky, the director wanted the audience to hear the movie out instead. Unfortunately, many viewers (critics included) are already blinded by digital spectacles. How ordinary it is for modern viewers nowadays to see a film just because the movie has good visual effects. There are only a few people who after watching a film goes out to say that the film has superb score or background music.

The striking quality of the sound of "Kinatay" is definitely its profound sense of realism. We hear the sounds of the city during the first thirty minutes of the film, and for people who live in Manila, it feels like home--with all the deafening noise of the vehicles, shouts of the vendors, gossips of the housewives, screams of street basketball players, music from TV, cellphones, radios, and even noises from animals. But as night falls, the absence of noise becomes more threatening. A simple curse in the middle of the night already gives us the creeps--what more if the curses and screams are confined in a compact vehicle, a remote house in the province?

The loudest sound in the movie comes from the facial expressions of Peping. In his silence, we hear the terrifying outburst of guilt, of helplessness, and of fear. With Peping, we become passive witnesses to crime and become deaf to the cries of the victim. We know exactly who are the dregs of society and yet we do nothing because we know that we are powerless because these villains are some of the most powerful people in the society. And sad to say, the message of Brillante Mendoza has to be heard loud and clear: this is what our reality sounds like today.

Service (2008)

A Homage to and Criticism of the Philippine Cinema

[8/10 · 26 June 2008]

Even before watching our very own semi-controversial finalist in the Cannes de Festival this year, I knew that I would love Brillante Mendoza's "Serbis." Not only because two of my friends are in the production team, but this film strikes a familiar chord in my heart because I know personally the venue and the local color of the story where the story of the film takes place. I grew up in Pampanga and saw many films in majority of the theaters in Pampanga. During the lahar era, my sister and I stayed and lived in our photography studio, which was just beside San Fernando's best theater then. That time, I was inside that theater almost every day, watching the same film of the week again and again. If that does not conjure much bias for this film, maybe this one will: I personally experienced being almost sexually harassed in the Family Theater, the very same one featured in the film "Serbis." Now that's enough neo-realism for you. Hahaha!

I can understand why many people dislike "Serbis"--it's too raw, uninhibited, and bleak. Foreigners would be turned off by the disgusting display of sexual scenes and the popping of the boil from an actor's buttocks and the deafening and unrefined sound quality. And Filipinos would also be repulsed by the "lack of story" and the absence of subtitles while the actors freely converse in Kapampangan and Ilocano.

I am lucky enough to have an Ilocano beside me in the theater, translating the Ilocano dialogue. Of course, I was delighted to hear Kapampangan being spoken so lavishly and frequently in the entire course of the story. It felt so much like home to me. The sound and sight of Pampanga in the film are startlingly genuine. I shivered at the sight of familiar places. I marveled at the uncanny natural feel of the setting. The theater is alive.

We witness how the camera leads us to follow the main characters, as it snakes in and out of every room and shamelessly presents to us its ugliness and grittiness. The theater is a character itself--it has its own personality and even moral obligation to the psyche of every single character living or simply loitering in its premises. The members of the audience become part of the story as we spy on the characters' regrettable lives. The characters hang on to the theater as their refuge to the wretchedness of their own problems. We get to see a thin slice of their lives, from morning to night, which is more than enough to establish the story and make the audience draw out their own inferences as to how the story would, not end, but continue even after the credits start to roll.

That's probably what many viewers missed after seeing and dissing the movie with raised eyebrows and shoulders. The film managed to make them feel estranged because they are not familiar with such abnormalities or disgusted because the film does not apologize for its harsh depiction of the reality of "serbis" not only inside the film theater but also of the entire local film industry itself. It is quite apparent that the entire film is both homage to and critique on the Philippine cinema.

The most striking realization I had a few minutes after seeing the film is that despite the revolting scenes and appalling images bombarded to the audience in the majority of the screening time, there are also bits of images of optimism for the future of the characters and the theater itself: the walls are being repainted, the head of the family sits in front of the ticketing booth (suggesting taking more control of the cinema), and the troubled son starts his own journey to find himself even against the religious parade and the anonymous throng opposite his direction. In the words of Sam Cooke: A change is gonna come. I hope that Brillante's brilliant film will also be the impetus of such a thing in the Philippine cinematic history.

The Man from Earth (2007)

Thought-provoking!

[10/10 · 18 April 2008]

At his farewell dinner, history professor John Oldman asked a ridiculous question to his colleagues in the university: is it possible for a cave man to still exist in the world today? Being intellectuals, of course, they disagreed while keeping an open mind and telling him that nothing is really impossible. But when he mentioned that what if he were to tell them that he had been rubbing elbows with Christopher Columbus, Van Gogh, and even the Buddha himself and that he had stopped aging when he was 35 and that he had been in this world for 14,000 years, every single one of them embarked on an philosophical/psychological/religious/intellectual journey that shook the very foundations of everything they had believed in.

Written by one of the best writers of "Twilight Zone" and "Star Trek," Emerson Bixby's script of The Man from Earth could not have fallen into better hands than independent or non- Hollywood filmmakers. This sci-fi movie does not have any special effects, audio or visual, no computer-generated animations, but it does nurture the very core of a brilliant science fiction: a resounding and masterly constructed what-if story. The story moves through the discussions among these so-called experts in the university as they question or try to refute the possibility of a self-confessed cavemen who has survived hundreds of millennia. Evoking their reactions, from utter disgust to awe and wonder to emotional outburst, Professor John Oldman's character tells his story with a brick face, casually expressing his past and his thoughts and reflections on history. He tells them truths that rocked the very core of their lives.

The movie triumphs in its witty dialogue and very impressive cross-cultural juxtaposition of various moments of history and religion. Anyone who loves intellectual conversations will definitely be drawn to the arguments presented in the film. At the same time, it is probably inevitable that many will also be offended, particularly those who have rigid and firm religious beliefs and those who take everything too seriously and literally.

I have always been drawn to films filled with conversations on strange ideas, most especially if the films pose a threat to the social construct or to what the general public assumes as acceptable and irrevocable. I find it amazing how a trifle such as a movie can change how one sees the world. This film is definitely one of these films: a simple story to be reckoned with.

Once (I) (2007)

Classic! Bloody brilliant Irish film-making.

[10/10 · 23 February 2008]

Had James Joyce written and directed a musical, it could have been Once. Not only because this film is Irish and that the two lovers are both Dubliners, but this cinematic gem is definitely the most believable musical made in film. The actors do not break into song and dance numbers; there are no artificial and spectacular props in the background and grand historically accurate costumes that steal our attentions; and there are no special effects whatsoever. Everything in Once is stripped to its quintessence. The characters are real, very human--the cinematography gives a realistic tone with its hushed and raw images of authentic Dublin and its citizens. The performances are amazing--passionate and moving. And most importantly, the story zaps us back to reality without sacrificing important thrusts on the realm of human relationships.

The characters are nameless. The Guy is a gifted singer and composer who earns part-time singing in the streets. He sings about his failed relationship. One night, the Girl finds him belting out his emotions with his guitar while nobody pays attention to his song; she is very much impressed. She happens to be a daughter of someone who used to play in an orchestra. She knows good music when she sees--rather--hears it. The following day, they meet again, and she plays the piano for him. Then, they sing a song together, "Falling Slowly." The Girl inspires the Guy to get his groove back. The Guy falls slowly for her. And the Girl does for him, too, though not obviously. But then, they are both tied to their past--and when they sing, they sing of their past relationships.

The tagline of the movie probably sets us in the mood: How often do you find the right person? Does the film's title answer this?

According to IMDb.com Trivia section, "the title refers to the many very talented artists that John Carney (the director) knew who put off their career by saying 'once' they get this and that sorted out, but never succeed because they've put it off too long. This describes the lead character, The Guy."

The Girl gives him his inspiration. This is the 'Once' which the Guy has been waiting for in a long time. Then, they made music. Brilliant music.

Classic musicals have three aspects that made them classics: an immediate LSS inducing- repertoire, an addictive vibe that makes you want to watch the movie more than three times in a week, and memorable songs which you will memorize eventually. Once has all of these qualities... which is paradoxical if you consider the title of the movie and all of these habit- engendering aspects.

No Country for Old Men (2007)

Ambitious yet Haunting

[10/10 · 11 February 2008]

Immediately after the last scene, my friend called up--and I almost jumped out of my seat. I struggled to listen to what she was saying, but I couldn't take my mind off the strange ending of the latest offering from the guys who gave us the contemporary classic Fargo, the Coen brothers. My friend warned me about the UP Fair--and in my mind, I was still speechless about the turn-out of the thrilling cat-and-mouse chase of the hunter and the psycho in the film. And the lame yet excusable sheriff. Then, inexplicably, the phone conversation I was struggling to keep was disconnected. I thought of calling my friend back, but I have to pause... and digest what the film No Country For Old Men just did to me.

The story is deliriously simple: (Spoilers alert!) Guy A, a hunter, discovers money from a drug-trafficking/ambush scene where people are dead or mostly goners; Guy B, a murderer, looks for the money and hunts down Guy A; Guy C, a sheriff, hunts down Guy B; Guy A gets away from Guy B but is unwittingly murdered by the latter's companions; Guy B gets the money and kills everyone who stops him; suddenly, Guy B had an accident but is able to escape; Guy C, the poor sheriff, fails in his mission, tells us about his 2 dreams and ends by saying he woke up.

And together, let's say: What?! That's it?!

It has been more than an hour, and still I am with my second nightly bottle while I could not just contain my thoughts about the film. I'll focus on four things.

First, the acting is the first thing that tattoos upon the audience's conscious mind while and after watching the film. Particularly, Javier Bardem's performance will live on for decades to come. His character will definitely earn its rightful place among the most evil and frightening villain ever seen on film. There was not a scene in the film where his presence will leave you comfortable in your seat. When he speaks, you struggle to listen while holding your breath, afraid that you will be one of his victims if you misunderstand a word he is saying. When he doesn't speak, he reminds you of that black hooded figure with a sickle.

Next, the use, or rather, the absence of musical score or background is employed masterly, creating an aura of haunting silence while the tension reaches its boiling point and the members of the audience are at the edge of their seats while struggling not to have a heart attack.

Thirdly, more of technical stuff: the editing is so succinct that a second viewing of the film is necessary if one has a short attention span and is not keen on details. And to be honest, I had to rewind and go back at some certain parts of the films to see what I missed. But other than that, the composition of the pictures are brilliant. And breathtaking--and that can be taken literally, too.

The last and the most important aspect of the film is its uncompromising mode--the utter sophistication and the bitter pessimistic take on the fate of man--how our chances stand against the unexplainable evil forces in real life. The film poses to us one of the perennial challenges of man on surviving on earth: how do we survive knowing that human malevolence, wickedness, and immorality are fundamentally present and overwhelmingly unpredictable and immutable?

Combine this with the dark humor and ambitious yet haunting style that only the Coen brothers can deliver, this film is an instant classic.

The Lives of Others (2006)

Harrowing yet moving...

[10/10 · 5 December 2007]

I just finished watching a powerful German film which bagged the Best Foreign Film in the Oscars last year. I rarely use that description for a film: but the powerful aspect of "The Lives of Others" is its message of realistic optimism and compassion amidst the corruption and exploitation of human rights during the last few years of the Socialist Germany. If one is familiar with "Goodbye, Lenin!"'s comic approach on the issue of the fall of the Berlin Wall, he will find the treatment of the story of the characters in "The Lives of Others" far more intense and frightening yet endearing as the secret agent in charge of spying on an artist and his lover becomes too involved in the couple's secret lives. Being a very vigilant servant of the System, Wiesler, the agent, knows that his risk of saving the artists who are attacking the GDR whom he has served for almost all his life is akin to throwing everything that matters to him. But why does he dare? The very answer to that is the gem that one can unfold upon getting involved in the lives of these characters.

The performances were incredibly harrowing yet as moving as a beautifully composed sonata. This masterpiece from the director Von Donnersmarck probably is the best European film of this decade so far.

There is a line at the latter part of the film which caught my attention... which probably is true for any country which underwent a major overhauling of its political system. This is from a character which was once a high officer in the pre-Falling-of-the-Berlin-Wall Germany.

"What is there to write about in this New Germany? Nothing to live in, nothing to rebel against..."

Literature and Art do thrive on human struggle and strife. Adversities are the heat and pressure which crystallize the diamond within us.

Stranger Than Fiction (2006)

Will Ferrell singing... nice!

[9/10 · 22 July 2007]

Harold Crick is an IRS auditor who leads a very measured, predictable and precise kind of life--so precise that he does things on the dot and counts trivial details like the number of his brushstrokes (36 up and downs, 36 side by sides). He lives in a pleasant cycle until one day he realizes something is wrong--he starts hearing the voice of the narrator dictating almost every step he makes. Little did he know that he is merely a character in someone's novel.

Marc Foster's metafictional story about the interconnection of a character exhibiting a classic case of a contemporary corporate desensitization and a novelist experiencing a writer's block works on the same plane as Sam Mendes's American Beauty--it's a story about someone being reawakened, realizing that he hasn't lived his life the way he wanted it to be. The moment that Harold Crick hears his narrator explicitly telling him that his death is imminent, he freaks out and takes a vacation from his monotonous life.

And he did make everything different. Will Ferrell's acting is surprisingly subtle--considering how wacky he can get in his other films. His tandem with Maggie Gyllenhaal's character Ana Pascal, an intelligent/radical baker who chose to bake cookies and breads (to make the world a better place), is surprisingly effective and at times, though embarrassing to admit, giggle/kilig-inducing.

And there is also this issue whether the narrator Kay Eiffel is writing Harold's story as a tragedy or a comedy. When Harold realizes that he's being driven to make his life better and fall in love with Ana, he thinks that he's definitely in a comedy. But while seeking the help of the character played by Dustin Hoffman, Dr. Jules Hilbert, a literature professor who helps Harold get his way out of this strange literary labyrinth, he tells Harold that the narrator of his story Kay Eiffel, whom HIlbert has taught a class on, is notorious for killing her novels' main characters.

As he continues to understand his role in the story, Harold Crick's wrist watch continues to click and tick to his climactic death. And so there goes the million dollar question: will Harold Crick be able to stop his narrator from killing him?

Hot Fuzz (2007)

Hothothot!

[10/10 · 22 July 2007]

From the creators of Shaun of the Dead, this homage to the police-action genre (from the TV shows like Miami Vice to the Lethal Weapon movie series of the nineties to the Bad Boys of the more recent years) makes the director Edgar Wright and co-writer/star Simon Pegg household names after proving themselves to be a force to be reckoned with in the blooming field of intelligent British comedy. Maybe this generation has finally found its Monty Python team.

Hot Fuzz describes how Nicholas Angel, a young and brilliant cop with an arrest record of 400% higher than any other officer in the force, is forced by his London superiors and peers to be assigned in a remote, peaceful and pleasant small English town because he is a major threat to everyone's promotions.

Upon a few hours after his arrival, he has already arrested a few blokes from a bar, and is practically known by everyone in less than 24 hours. The reactions from his fellow officers are quite mixed--Danny Butterman, the son of the chief, looks up to Sergeant Angel as an ultimate embodiment of an action hero in the movies that he has seen; while a few of the officers seem also threatened and skeptical about the excellence of their new member.

As Sergeant Angel gets familiar with the rest of the town, he discovers that some individuals he meets tend to die a few hours after he meets them. The locals tell him that all of the deaths were mere accidental, but Angel believes that there's a conspiracy behind these brutal killings. This leads him to distrust certain people, until he comes face-to-face the real nature of the people behind him--the entire village ganging up on him and feeling threatened by Angel's real heroic, action-packed demeanor. But for Sergeant Nicholas Angel, no one should be above the law. In a memorable segment, he rides on a horse, ala Lito Lapid, with ridiculous amount of guns and ammunitions, and he shows 'em all what he's got.

It's more engaging and hilarious than Shaun of the Dead, and the twist of the movie is just right on the spot.

Witty, hilarious script. Solid acting. British humour. Fast-paced action. Damn. I hope there's a sequel.

Perfume: The Story of a Murderer (2006)

Sensual

[7/10 · 22 July 2007]

Perhaps the most overlooked of all the human senses is the one right under your nose (or rather in it). Dealing with the concept of smell and scents may prove to be difficult to be portrayed or deliberated upon in a movie, where audio and visual spectacles are the ones being noticed. I remember a certain conversation I had with Mr. Maraña when we were talking about the different innovations in the world of cinema (like the IMAX and the possibility of three-dimensional films, where one can feel the actors) he suggested something that got me to thinking--what if the movies would also let the audience experience smelling the movie. Suddenly, my mind was flooded with lots of movies and how they would turn out if the audience were able to smell the story--I'm sure that love stories would definitely be fragrant, and that pornographic films will be more--uhm--sensual, and the horror films can be more disgusting than ever. Even literal fart jokes will definitely be funnier, if not grosser.

I digress. Tom Tykwer's Perfume is brilliant in its images--how it was able to transcend olfactory paradise into visual imageries. The story is not as solid, and I'm not really sure about historical accuracy. As the story progresses, it successfully transcends from just a mere artsy film into a modern parable.

Jean-Baptiste Grenouille was born different--he has been blessed by a superb sense of smell, sensitive enough to smell odors from faraway places, strong enough that made him quite queer. He survives through the poverty and filth of Paris, working under the clutch of machines and terrible masters--until one day, he follows a scent, fragrant, of a red-haired woman--it mystifies him to the point of obsession. He follows her literally to her death, which fascinates him because of the sublime beauty before him but also frustrates him because he cannot preserve the scent of the woman and keep it with him forever. Fortunately, he meets a real master: a master perfumer who somewhat has lost his touch in the modern world. When Jean-Baptiste made some suggestions about how the old perfumer could enhance the latest new sensation being sold by his competition, the story goes into a different direction. He starts having his formal education on the world of scents--he learns the names of the various smells that have been with him yet remained nameless; he learns the process of making perfumes.

As any story of great talents goes, the infant terrible discovers that he is actually better than his master--he feels lonely and deserted--no one can understand his hunger and desire for scents. He leaves and starts looking for ways to preserve human scent--the most fragrant of all scents--the scent that will make one think of paradise when one smells/experiences it.

In doing so, he needs to kill the most beautiful women in the town. And so it goes.

The crowd goes after him. He gets his sentence. But how the perfumer Grenouille was able to transform an entire angry crowd into a massive bacchanalian group copulation is something that everyone has to see--bizarre and visually poetic.

If only we could smell this climax of the film, it would nothing be stranger than a real paradise.

Tsotsi (2005)

Small Film, Big Heart

[9/10 · 22 July 2007]

Gavin Hood's Academy Award winning film Tsotsi is a small film that gets directly to its point. It is the story of a thug leader Tsotsi (which literally means "thug" in the South African street language), in probably his most life-changing six days of his life.

In one of their stints, he leaves his gang, holds up a woman, shoots her knees, and drives her car away. Little did he know that the car has another passenger--a baby. In the next few days he feels that he has to take care of the baby--but the reason also overwhelms him. A few flashbacks of his life were shown: he ran away from his family and he lived among the thugs of Johannesburg. Amidst of violence, poverty and disease, he fights to survive each day.

He feels that he could give this baby a chance yet his very life seems so messed up that he feels no one to care for but the baby.

Everything in his life seems to be a product of his paranoia and fear of the violence and injustice all around him that the only way he knows how to cope with these social nightmares is to be part of the same nightmare.

Little by little, he realizes that he has to move on, and salvage whatever he can while there is still chance.

The baby is the embodiment of hope and rebirth for him. At the end of the film, finally, he makes the right choice.

The movie's cinematography seems raw and realistic, cool yet warm, violent yet peaceful-- these are very appropriate if one would try to color the ongoing psyche of Tsotsi.

Tsotsi is a small film with a big heart. For those who have seen and loved Central Station, they might find a familiar, heartbreaking yet endearing story in Tsotsi.

Ratatouille (2007)

The best animated film ever...

[10/10 · 22 July 2007]

To describe Ratatouille as the best animated film ever made is still an understatement. It is a topnotch achievement--the chef d'oeuvres amidst a world of hamburgers and fries.

The advanced screening of the latest collaboration of Disney and Pixar, directed by the ingenious Brad Bird, whose previous works were never disappointing (The Iron Giant and The Incredibles), was probably most anticipated by some Filipino viewers who are aware of the increasing popularity and immense critical acclaim of the Ratatouille. To paraphrase a critic, it was even hailed as the "prophet who spreads and embodies the new age of the world of animation." As much as I wanted to digress back then, I admit that I was giddy and excited to witness what the fuss is all about. As soon as I heard that there was a two-day advanced screening of Ratatouille, I told myself that I had to see it by hook or by crook.

I went inside the theater with extremely high expectations. I was blown away--the film did not disappoint--and the critics were right. BUT more than that, watching Ratatouille is a cinematic experience--I left the cinema shivering and in awe. The last time I had the same experience was with Martin Scorsese's The Departed, the Oscar best picture last year. I won't be surprised if this--yes, animated film--gets the same honor next year.

The quality of Ratatouille's animation can be compared without embarrassment to modern paintings or visual art compositions. The texture and the colors of Paris juxtaposed with the vivid outlines of the furs of the rats--combine these with excellent camera movements that follow the world of a rat adjacent to the oh-so-romantic alleys and lights of Paris--these unlikely combinations are beautifully illustrated that the audience is easily enchanted-- transported into the lovely world of Remy and Linguini: the little rat chef and the simple young man who just wanted to get by after losing his mother.

The story is focused primarily on Remy, gifted with an extraordinary sense of smell which eventually developed into his keenness and sensitivity to food. That's not a problem at all if he were perfectly a normal human being--Remy is a rat, one of the icky rodents that survive in packs, stealing food, rummaging through your garbage, causing disease and infections. He feels terribly odd about his special gift, often finding himself at the kitchen of human beings, experimenting his own cooking. After a series of unfortunate events, he finds himself lost and away from his family in the sewers--luckily, these sewers are in Paris, practically a food paradise for food enthusiasts. Eventually, he meets Linguini, a recently orphaned young man who turns up at the restaurant of a former famous chef named Gusteau, who happens to be a TV chef idol of Remy during the times he snuck out to the house of humans to get the spices he needed for his cooking. Unlike Remy, Linguini's knowledge of cuisine and food is close to nothing. After being assigned as a garbage boy in the restaurant, at one time, without thinking, he spoiled a soup being prepared for the restaurant's customers. Remy intervenes and saves the soup, which will turn out to be a big sensation soon. The rat is discovered by the young man, the head chef discovers the rat and orders the young man to get rid of the rat. Of course, Linguini cannot get rid of the rat because he needs to know how the rat cooked the sensational soup. So he decides to save the rat and the soup and eventually, everybody's saved. Though that's just the basic premise of the story.

The plot is solid, mixing a dash of vintage Disney archetypical hero in Remy (who reminds us of other Disney heroes who just think of themselves as different, who want to go out there, somewhere else where they will be more understood and where they are meant for greater things) and the Pixar's archetypal hero in Linguini, whose real heroism is found lingering among his inner values and natural kindness. But more than this, watching Ratatouille feels like reading a favorite bedtime story for people across all ages.

What really amazes me the most is the story's utter simplicity which exceptionally utilizes and combines realism and fantasy in the lovely world of Remy and Linguini.

The dialogue is extremely witty, the humor is not forced and most of the times delivered with taste.

I can't wait for a second, a third, a fourth helping of Ratatouille. Yes, an original DVD will definitely be worth the entertainment feast that this luscious film offers.

Modern Times (1936)

Classic!

[10/10 · 22 July 2007]

It will probably be close to being useless reviewing a classic film--especially this masterpiece of Charlie Chaplin, the best comic genius who ever lived.

The movie brings back some memories of my theater class under another genius, Professor Anton Juan, who is probably already a legend in the Philippine Theater history. Sir Anton required us to watch Modern Times in order to get insights about basic acting movements. Back then in 1998, it was extremely difficult to find classic films because there weren't any pirated DVDs available. Good thing, a classmate found a video rental shop where classic films in VHS were available to be let.

We watched the movie in White Plains, at the house of one of my classmates. Prior to watching the film, we haven't seen any single film by Chaplin. We knew who Charlie Chaplin was but we didn't know any of his works. He was just that funny tramp with a funny mustache known around the world.

Watching Modern Times was a revelation for me. It was laugh-out-loud funny yet picturesque and thought-provoking. The film depicts the plight of Man in the modern world of industrialization, where men are like robots literally being winded by gears of monstrous machines or droves of sheep moving side by side aimlessly without a shepherd.

It is a story of a factory worker who became jaded by the monotony of his job, tightening the screws of some metal plates. The dreariness of his life messed his sanity and he was sent to the hospital after attacking people with his monkey wrenches and tools. After being released, by pure unlucky accident, he was put into prison after being mistaken as a leader of a strike. Once in prison, he felt that it was much better to live there than out in the streets where people lead miserable lives, jobless, hungry, and desensitized. In and out of prison, he just survived--until he met a woman whom he felt a connection with--then, he started to live.

Chaplin brilliantly explores and satirizes the greatest burden of Man: work. As time flies by quickly, Man finds himself unable to keep up with everything happening around him. He feels lost and defeated, realizing how small and unimportant he is in the society.

Chaplin's remedy to this universal problem is simple: positivity. For the simple tramp who always sees the bright side of life thrives and survives. The world is one big comedic act.

More than any other film, Modern Times was the first film that made me appreciate the language and beauty of film. It made me a film addict, rummaging through various DVD kiosks, looking for classics, searching for beauty.

In our modern times, we are trapped in a fast-paced world, jarring with montages and mountains of images, issues and crises that have been unthought of in the past centuries. But as Charlie Chaplin delivers it plainly at the end of Modern Times, the only way to live through all of this is just to... smile.

:)

In the Mood for Love (2000)

Elegant!

[10/10 · 22 July 2007]

I was fortunate enough to have seen the Philippine premiere of Wong Kar- Wai's "In The Mood For Love" back in 2001. I have never heard of this director prior to seeing the film. I was with Sealdi, my college bestfriend, and we had close to zilch expectations when we sat ourselves in the not-so-crowded theater, waiting for the show to start.

It was love at first sight. The movie struck me in so many ways that no other single romance flick had ever done. The musical score sets the pacing of the movie, setting the two lead characters who live in the same area in Hongkong in the 1960s in a romantic mood-- unfortunately, being both married, they're not easily going to give in to this atmosphere of romance. Wong Kar-Wai deceives the audience with his playful use of the environment and the circumstances to conjure a poignant love story which, technically, never started and never concluded.

Everything sways to the lulling tune of "Quizas, Quizas, Quizas" (literally meaning Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps) and hypnotizes and excites the audience set to the mood of love--the sheer elegance and suaveness of the clothes of Mr. Chow and Mrs. Chan, the way they brush past each other while walking along the rustic and raw corridor and stairways of their apartment, the smoke slowly slithering from Chow's cigarette, and the mere taboo that surrounds and reminds them of their social standing and reputation as decent married individuals--these are the aphrodisiacs being fed upon us by the master chef WKW who ultimately leads us back to the reality of things--a world which is not in love, unsympathetic, jaded, and judgmental of our human weaknesses.

The mood for love intoxicates us and promises a catastrophic hangover. Chow and Chan chose to remain sober--and there's a certain beauty to their unconsummated story.

But why do we, ordinary mortals, give in to the insane, enigmatic, foolish world of love? Because we just do. In the real world of love, we're stupid and bored--and we try to make our own sullen/romantic/deceiving blue funk called love.

Pan's Labyrinth (2006)

Best Spanish!

[10/10 · 22 July 2007]

Winner of three Oscars in the recently held Academy Awards, this Spanish cinematic baby by Guillermo Tolentino is more than just a modern fairy tale for the mature viewers. Its complex juxtaposition of the evils of war and innocence of a child trapped into her own psychological and fantastic labyrinths provides multifarious layers of meanings and depths that current sci- fi/fantasy movies fall short on or struggle to achieve--unfortunately--miserably.

Being one of the very few movies that made my tear ducts function, it is a deeply sad and moving tale--at times, extremely frightening and violent--definitely, it is reminiscent of the original Brothers Grimm fairy tales, which are themselves very twisted and gory. The wit of the screenplay, the complex animation and effects, and the brilliant cinematography surpass most of the movies released last year.

It's destined to be a classic. In all probability, as what "Amelie" did to the French, "El Laberinto del Fauno" has made the Spanish proud for standing out as one of their best contributions to the modern world cinema.

300 (2006)

Shallow

[7/10 · 22 July 2007]

In every generation, there's usually a film that explores new grounds. Way back in the 60s, Stanley Kubrick's "2001: A Space Odyssey" changed the film medium and, theoretically, paved way for the MTV visuals. Lucas's "Star Wars" continued this by launching the Force of endless possibilities on visual sci-fi effects. In the 90s, Wachowski Brothers' "The Matrix" was the "it" movie--philosophically and visually brilliant. Fast forward to this decade--after Peter Jackson wowed us with his epic trilogy, almost every blockbuster attempts to have the gargantuan spectacle of "The Lord of the Rngs". Watching the theater trailer of Snyder's adaptation of Frank Miller's "300", some people thought that this movie will break new grounds in cinematic history. Unfortunately, "300" might have to settle under the shadow of "The Lord of the Rings" (that is without even mentioning the presence of Faramir, the gollum look-alike character, oliphaunts, trolls, and millions of Middle-earth-like warriors marching on in Sparta).

While being visually stunning, the cinematography of this movie just wants to be noticed. Every picture or every scene in the movie seems to want to say, "Hey! This shot is epic!" True, almost every scene in the movie can stand as part of a series of beautifully composed paintings--add some perfect abdominal muscles and hard feminine nipples to boot--you have a full-scale work of art. Yes, it's an adaptation of a graphic novel--and, unfortunately, it seems to be merely a graphic novel in motion, if not a video segment in a very complicated PC or virtual reality game.

The overused slow/fast motion technique can be effective if used sparingly yet appropriately. Ironically, the perfectly composed scenes just drag the viewer from one scene to the next, expecting more beauty, more mythical images, that in the end, it's just exhausting to the wide-eyed viewer. The movie makes no apologies for its raunchy, sexually arousing scenes which fittingly juxtapose the ultra-violent bloody war segments. Sex and violence in the Greek times, as depicted in different mythology stories, can be understandable if interpreted with consideration to their cultural richness. What fascinates and repulses me at the same time is how this film has taken those two aspects and made them modern--way TOO modern that sex and violence in "300" can leave the audience desensitized.

The script and its execution by many of the mediocre actors here are not even worthy to be given a criticism.

The one important thing missing in this film can be summed up by one word: depth.

Movies can be picture perfect, but there is more to the cinematic language than its flawlessly composed and enhanced visuals--the movie, ideally, must tell a story which paves way to understanding our human nature, psyche, and soul--if not, it poses more questions on human morality, aesthetics, and beliefs.

"300" flexes exceedingly perfect muscles that are mostly found below the head. Thus, in an amusing way, the movie has beheaded itself and all that remain are those pornographic, visually amazing torso and legs, which like AND unlike the 300 Spartans, eventually would fall--buried and forgotten.