A simple yet clever 8-minute film where a DJ who falls out of the sky (and nearly gets brained by his own equipment) uses his turntable to avert a series of unfortunate events that escalate every time he intervenes.

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It’s been an embarrassingly long while since I’ve posted anything here — and I do sincerely apologize to the maintainers of this blog for that. Real life and holding down a mentally-draining job took its toll on my film-and-TV-watching self, reducing me to a gibbering idiot at times with no critical faculties left to use for film reviews. I see that my esteemed colleague Haoson pitched in for a while there, and I thank him for that.

I resurface now, though, because in a fit of job fatigue I went YouTube-hopping and found a few gems that I had to pimp. Today, it’s a BAFTA- and Oscar-nominated short animated film from 1998 called Humdrum. Written and directed by Peter Peake and produced by Aardman Animations, creators of Wallace and Gromit, it’s a humdrum (haha) little story about two extremely bored shadows who end up playing…shadow puppets. No, really.

(I’ve tried embedding the video here, but in case it doesn’t show up, here’s the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MSqgObzQWVA.

At least, I HOPE this is it; I had saved the embedded link provided for by YouTube, but I’m afraid I can’t access YouTube from work right now. I can get the proper link later, when I get home. Er, yes. Move along now.)

I first saw this in one of those children’s film festivals in Edsa Shangri-la, oh, AGES ago — probably 1998, when it came out — and I remember loving it to bits because it expressed exactly that particular brand of boredom that I had been experiencing at the time but couldn’t quite articulate. Douglas Adams called it “the long dark teatime of the soul”; I had a few more unprintable choice terms for it myself. Watching it again, nearly ten years later, I was struck by how it hasn’t lost any of its charm; I was even more staggered at how much more I understood how the depths of boredom could actually feel, now. This time, however, I quote Cavafy: “The same things will happen, they will happen again — the same moments find us and leave us.”

It’s quite apt right now for me, as I’m in the middle of reading students’ papers and not feeling particularly chuffed about them. Le sigh.

Tomorrow: Another YouTube special — I have to decide whether to go with the time-traveling DJ or the hysterical paranoid businessman with the sinister boyfriend deputy.

yes… its…

This show has been showing in the local airwaves for a few weeks now, in RPN 9 every sunday night at 8 while in the local cabel channels Crime Suspense every Wednesday night at 10 (correct me here people Im not too sure with the time)

The series was made to look like comic books with its multiple plot twists and arcs, which is the show’s strength and weakness. For those who are watching casually they may tend to become a little lost especially in the later episodes of the series but the arc type of episodes also hook people in watching (I know, I’m one of them!)

The series focuses on normal people who have special powers only human’s could dream of like, super human strength, time manipulation, mind reading, flight, fast healing and the like.

Imagine if we were like them… how would we use our powers? Intriguing isn’t it? We could just hope and dream…

First in the grinder: Spiderman 3

No matter how great the first two movies were, and no matter how much movie crtics claim that this movie was the best among the three, I’ll say that this is the worst silver-screen release of Marvel’s favorite web slinger.

Why do I say so? Here goes, 1.) Spiderman 3 just had too many characters, antagonist-wise the characters were not that developed, and this is due to the fact that they were just too many. It would have been better if they decided to just focus on the problems between the friendship of Peter Parker (Tobey Maguire) and Harry Osborn (James Franco) and on just ONE anti-hero (preferably Sandman (Thomas Haden Church)). 2.) Which was the effect of the first problem, the characters seemed hollow compared to the previous two movies. MJ Watson (Kirsten Dunst) seemed to be just another one of those expendable character, where in fact she was supposed to be one of Peter’s anchor in times of trouble. Another is the fact that Peter’s “supposed” transformation from the goody-two-shoes hero into the lean-mean killing machine “symbian spidey” lacked enough impact to actually make the viewers see the big change that Peter did go through (right, the scence where he was flirting with his neighbor and being disrespectful to his professor is sooo mean).

All in all the  movie should’ve turned out like this, and the movie didn’t much equaled the hype. The two Spiderman movies strength was not on the CGI effects nor for the fact that it was Tobey Maguire who was portraying Spideyman, the character development of the two movies made Spiderman in the silverscreen so successful, and this one such a screw-up

Next up: Shrek 3

Pixar animation’s third installment to the lovable green-skinned  ogre was in fact the most serious of the three.

With Shrek (Mike Myers) facing the possibility of being a father and being the new King of Far, Far Away the movie focuses on the exploits of Him , Puss in boots (Antonio Banderas) and Donkey (Eddie Murphy) set off to find a better replacement for him in the character of Artie. (Justin Timberlake)

To those who have watched the previous two movies would have noticed the more serious topic the movie has taken. Yes, the ever quirky jokes are still there but compared to the previous two, it has dwindled significantly. Shrek is supposed to be funny almost all the time, and for a person who would’ve expected a movie full of laughs, this third one is such a disappointment.

It is understandable that the seriousness of this movie is due to the seriousness of the Shrek faces, but SERIOUS is not synonymous to SHREK!

————————————————

All in all the problem with the two “threequels” was that they veered of to the things which made their previous turn-out good. For Spiderman 3 the character development while for Shrek 3 the jokes and silliness of the situations.

Mercifull, Pirates of the Caribbean 3 didn’t much veer away from the essence of the whole series, and wasn’t a disappointment like these two.

And then there’s Ultraviolet.

You know how there are some movies so bad that your brain just shuts down and you’re left sitting slack-jawed in the theater or on the couch for what seems like forever? That’s what happened to me, two minutes into this film. Which is a good thing, because even attempting to unravel the great mystery that is this film’s plot would’ve broken my brain. Well, worse than it already is.

(I did snort a bit when they started talking about “hemophages”. Gosh, what’ll they think of next?)

Once you make the conscious decision to not pay attention to whatever story this film is trying to tell you, it is really quite enjoyable to watch Milla Jovovich (who is Violet, because the film is called Ultraviolet. Get it?) be all kick-ass and look fabulous while doing it. And she does look ridiculously fabulous. (And I mean that in a good way.) I’d kill to be able to pull those ridiculous martial arts moves off without looking like a prat, or like Drew Barrymore lumbering in Charlie’s Angels. I didn’t mind the stupendously high level of fakeness the CG effects reached (which did not just border on the ridiculous but overshot that border completely and well into the territory of the Certifiably WTF). I didn’t even mind the inexplicable and ultimately pointless costume-and-hair color changes that occur throughout the film. It was all slick style, no substance, but gosh darn it, who cares? Yes, I was that far gone.

So because 1) Milla Jovovich is actually very likeable in anything she appears in (The Fifth Element is one of my favorites); 2) a slumming William Fichtner (who plays Garth, the…um. Fellow hemophage *snigger* and scientist friend with a thing for Violet? Whatever.) is the only person in this film who can actually act; and 3) my brain is officially On Vacation, I thereby include Ultraviolet in my List of Stupid Guilty Movie Pleasures, in between Cellular and Karmina the Teen Vamp.

(And now for each time the word ridiculous appears in this post, take a hefty swig of whatever it is you’ve got on hand to drink. No, not that one, the stronger one.)

[image from Wikipedia]

First broadcast on Channel Five (UK) in October 2006; The History Channel April 2007
An interesting look at a piece of the secret history of London Below the London Underground. The people who spend every day working on the London transport system give their accounts of seeing strange, inexplicable things during the course of the job.

Full video can be seen here: http://video.google.co.uk/videoplay?docid=-3532202278643485929

The good:

1. I’ve always liked history, and objectively speaking, it’s not surprising to learn that the London Tube system was carved out of old burial sites. Creepy fun.

2. Nice stylized camera and post-production work. I dig the blue filter. Very pretty.

3. If there’s anything I’ve learned from watching Discovery Channel’s A Haunting, it’s that there are no such things as good re-enactments. Re-enactments are automatically declared cheesy and are meant to be enjoyed like it’s bad comedy.

That said, I’m glad there weren’t any in this production. There’s a reason why ghost stories are scarier when they’re being told to you, not shown, and by no less that the actual people who’ve experienced them.

Must’ve been a bitch to stamp down the temptation, though.

4. It’s narrated by Paul McGann. Who happens to be one of my favorite actors, and an excellent voiceover artist as well. The man can read nothing but stock market reports and I’d still hang on to his every word.

The bad:

1. If you’re looking for any kind of concrete evidence that the Ghosts of the Underground exists — well, you’ll be disappointed. This special relies mainly on unsubstantiated eyewitness accounts and a lot of hearsay, and the closest thing to actual evidence they present is a photograph that, well, looks dodgy.

2. According to the scientist they’ve got monitoring the Tube system, the presence of what he calls “infrasound” (whatever that is I’m not even sure of — like an overlying buzz, or something?) can trigger feelings of unease; but it’s a big leap to actually seeing things, right?

As a factual documentary it’s, well, not. But still an entertaining — and pretty — piece of television, nonetheless.

Okay, this could be the intense humidity talking. April’s just about hot enough that you just lie around and not care if the world boils into a seething mass of cheese as long as it doesn’t make you move around and do anything. Certainly during Easter week my DVD collection was certainly too far enough away for me to even bother. Granted, I’m not much of a fan of films about the Passion and Death of Christ — oh, don’t get me wrong, it’s the Greatest Story Ever Told — but when the temperature is God-knows-what outside, I just wasn’t in the mood to get pummeled on the head by the Ballpeen Hammer of Catholic Guilt or rained on by the Anvils of Moral Righteousness. (I have got to trademark that one of these days.) I’m just not comfortable with that kind of…thing.

(Pity, though. Now that I think about it, I never even got the chance to throw myself into the Annual “Passion or Python?” Extravaganza. Anyone who knows me well enough knows which one would win out. Seriously, no contest.)

So I’ve been catching up on my reading. It’s been sadly neglected lately. And because it’s the summer, I like my reading to be somewhat…non-academic. I get enough of that already in real life as it is. Literary novels are left to molder in the shelves at this time of year. Give me genre stuff, give me give me giiiive me, and I’ll eat ‘em all up, I will.

So I’ve got Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series in the lineup (I’ve read them all before, but it’s been a while, and I miss Death and the City Watch something awful); Jim Butcher’s The Dresden Files is a new series that’s recently caught my attention like the back of a shovel to the solar plexus (and the TV series really, really helps) and, in honor of the late Kurt Vonnegut, I’m going to read my copy of Hocus Pocus that I picked up at a second-hand book shop last month. It’s been sitting on my bedside table all this time, taunting me, the cheap bastard.

I’m going to have a bit of trouble plowing through my Genre To-Do list, because as of this afternoon, however, I’m afraid I’m going to have to really break my No-Intellectually-Profound-Literature-for-Summer rule. My graduate class demands it. *sigh* (Then again, it’s a class discussing the nature of Literary Adaptations; we’re going to watch movies, haha.) But I’m going to need some serious leavening of the literary loaf of sourdough, so if you’ve got any more suggestions for Light Summer Reading, I’d be awfully glad of the help.

Alas, this isn’t a TV blog. (It will be. Trust me, it will be. One day.) So because I want to, for the next seven days I’m going to type “Short films” into YouTube’s search field and play Jab the Stubby Finger onto the Monitor. This promises to be a lot of fun.

There was a co(s)mic, Murphyesque conspiracy trying to stop me from watching this film, but I finally did. A week later, dammit.

And I’m not really sure what I feel about this film, anyway, other than “God, what a huge fanboy wank.” (Shut up, I know how that sounds.) I don’t think I’d ever walked out of a theater feeling as blank as I did. I don’t even hate it, for god’s sake. And I tried so very hard.

(I did sit bolt upright in my seat when David Wenham first appeared, but only to silently make frantic AARRGH NOO! MY EYES! NO CLOSER! hand gestures at the screen because when your first-ever sight of the man is as a weedy scientist in the surreal, yet strangely hilarious film A Little Bit of Soul (1998), a buffed-up scantily-clad David Wenham Is. Just. Frakking. Wrong. First impressions, and all that.

However, he gets a pass for Faramir because Faramir was always dear to my heart.)

While as a retelling of the historical Battle of Thermopylae it, well, sucks eggs (I’m no military history nut, but even I can recognize the lack of a plot when I see it), it is a remarkably faithful adaptation — virtually verbatim, panel to shot — of Frank Miller’s graphic novel. But that’s all it really is, as Miller’s storytelling and characterization leaves much to be desired. Everyone here is irritatingly two-dimensional; you have the bard, the crusty veteran soldier joined for the first time in battle by his rather-pretty-in-a-WB-esque-way son, the horribly disfigured traitor (and no, this is NOT a spoiler because anyone with a proper sense of Story can tell what’s going to happen before the character even speaks) the crafty politicians and the devoted Queen who’s determined to do anything to support her husband and to strike a feminist blow for Spartan womankind, and the noble and mighty warrior-king who’s not going to be pushed around by some effeminate Persian with an accessories fetish. (Which brings me to what I think is one of the real reasons the Iranians are crying foul over this film: the Persians are horribly tacky.) There are attempts at giving some of the characters some added emotional depth, but they are all steamrollered by the Grand Majesty of Leonidas’ Final “Up Yours, Bitch!” to the Persian juggernaut.

Thing is, even with everything that’s wrong with this film, I can’t really bring myself to hate it. The one thing that really gets me more than the sloppy characterization and breathtaking-if-you-like-the-weirdly-airbrushed-look visuals is with what I think of as rather gratuitous extensions of certain scenes, like the Oracle writhing like she’d just got ants down her crotch. For god’s sake, it was Just. One. Panel. But the fact that the film is faithful to the graphic novel itself gives one hope that director Zack Snyder may actually do justice to Watchmen.

One really hopes.

I changed my mind about reading the graphic novel before watching the film, though. A friend of mine warned me that I’d be setting myself up for a huge disappointment if I did. I don’t know if he’s seen the film yet, but I know what he means.

(Actually, I’m going to be frank and say that I’ve already formed quite a few preconceptions about 300, some of them good, some of them bad, and some of them of the point-and-laugh-embarrassingly-like-a-hyena variety; I should really, really stop watching trailers.)

I’ll elaborate on that point when I finally write my review. In the meantime, with no insidious intent, I’d like to lead you to an overwhelming question: Film Adaptations: Love ‘Em or Leave ‘Em?