DEADGIRL

Ugh...
I feel dirty.
Not the regular kind of dirty like after you've done some heavy work and you're dripping with sweat.
Not the good kind of dirty like when you're in a strip club and you're being massaged by the best tits money can buy.
Not even the literal kind of dirty like when you've fallen into a mud puddle after stepping out of your carriage and misjudging the first step. (...If you so happen to travel by carriage, I suppose.)

No.

The layer of filth that seems to have coated my very being is unique.
It has stained my skin, my eyes and possibly even my very soul. (I'll only know for sure once I visit a clairvoyant. Only then will I be in a suitable position to decide which lies I shall believe in order to attempt to heal my corrupted aura.)
Until then though; I fear that this sickening sense of putrescence that clings to my form like film upon rotting meat will be with me for some time.
What could have caused this grimy residue imbued with such gag-inducing potency?
Well, how about the face-paralysing experience of witnessing a film concerning teenage zombie rape.

Yep. You read that correctly.
Teenage. Zombie. Rape.

Aren't you glad you visited my blog today?
Allow me to now provide my report a la some kind of pseudo-coroner upon the cinematic corpse that is DEADGIRL http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0896534/

(Oh yeah, I'm not going to spoil the journey for y'all by laying the plot out on a slab. But hey, I've already mentioned 'teenage zombie rape'. If that triple-threat combo of words does not inform you as to whether or not this is the film for you, then perhaps you need to do some soul searching. Light some candles. Find yourself, y'know? Have fun.)

- This horror film is, appropriately and refreshingly, horrifying.
It's about time a flick came along that lives up to the implications pertaining to the HORROR genre.
This is a greasy, unpleasant film that leaves a thick layer of retch-worthy after-taste in the back of your throat.
It's like eating something rotten on a hot, sticky day...and you have no beverage available to rinse your mouth out with.
You can even almost smell this film.
The stale sweat. The sickly musk of old sex and body odour generated by the exertions involved in such an activity.
Waves of scent seem to radiate out from the screen and place you in the middle of these disgusting events.
And that face that you generally pull when you smell something offensive? The way your nose lifts and your top lip curls back slightly as if trying to recoil away from the source of the odour? Yeah, that face is the mask that you will wear throughout the duration of this film.
I put my mask on during the first 'sex scene'...and never took it off.
It's still on as I type this.
Damn, I need a shower. I hope soap can rid me of this feeling. Perhaps I have some heavy-duty cleaning products in the cupboard. It's worth checking...

- The Dead Girl's face is simply terrifying.
Even before it has been, well, ...worn out, so to speak. Ahem.
Her expressions display a perfect blend of ravenous fury and corpse-like mindless vacancy...yet with eyes that seem to still hold a faint echo of her past humanity.
And when she 'grins' she becomes the mascot of nightmares.
I'll be seeing this gal in my mind for years to come.
Perhaps I should adopt a drinking problem...

- Noah Segan's performance as JT is excellent. He did solid work in BRICK http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0393109/ (Just watch it. NOW) as Dode, and yet I didn't even recognise him here; so different was he from that previous character.
JT is one frightening chap.
He's that kind of friend that is always just one small situation away from snapping, y'know?
You could see in his eyes that there was a pendulum just waiting to swing away in the wrong direction and the right set of circumstances were all he required to swing away and smash everything to pieces.

- The 'shopping for a new girl' scene at the gas station is disturbing...and yet it manages to catch you off-guard and take an unexpected turn.
The scene could have played out predictably and still succeeded; yet the curve-ball that is tossed at the audience allows our minds to fumble briefly before being led off onto a new path in this disturbing journey.

- This is a TRULY original take on the whole zombie movie genre. A most impressive feat, indeed.
There are no head-shots.
There are no mall scenes.
There are no shambles of zombies laying siege to a structure that contains a holed-up band of distressed survivors with suitably diverse backgrounds.
It basically ditches the bulk of zombie movie cliches and decides to tackle the subject from a VERY different angle and have the players be anything but heroic survivors.
Heroism is nowhere to be found within these halls, kids.
These characters are just plain...wrong.

- Far too many so-called “horror” films these days are stale, formulaic affairs that deal with text-book scenarios that, at best, barely manage to elicit a giggly shriek from the audience.
True horror should do as the name implies.
HORRIFY.
They should stay with you.
No other genre of film; and I mean NO OTHER GENRE, manages to stay with you afterwards as effectively as horror.
...Provided it is done right.
Take a quick run down a general list and you'll see:
ROMANCE = “Oh, wasn't that lovely. I feel romantic. Let's kiss and maybe you'll get a handjob on the drive home later. Where should we eat?”
COMEDY = “Oh, wasn't that funny? I liked the part where I laughed. Hahaha. Where should we eat?”
ACTION = “That was awesome. That explosion was...explosive. Where should we eat?”
DRAMA = “That made me think about things. Let's discuss it before our entrees arrive and then our relationship issues will take priority. Where should we eat?”
Yet with HORROR, you should get:
“...That was awful. I don't want to be alone tonight. I think I need a bath. What? No. I don't even feel like eating. Let's go.”

Horror stays with you.
It makes you look at the darkness in a different way.
You try to open the car door quicker.
You make sure you double-check the door and window locks.
You don't want to be alone afterwards.
Your mind has now been conditioned to believe that all of those things you just experienced on a screen...have managed to follow you THROUGH the screen, out into the real world.
THAT is a truly memorable experience.
Some may cry that such films make you feel bad or scared and why would anybody desire that from a film.
The watching of films is supposed to be a leisure activity. Why would you desire a negative feeling?
...But therein lies the whole trick to horror films and good films in general.
THEY MAKE YOU FEEL SOMETHING.
If they 'get to you', regardless of genre or subject matter, then the film has served its purpose...and then some.
It makes for a richer experience and the level of immersion is raised considerably if you happen to take something away from the film, long after you've safely pressed the STOP button and sighed with relief as you remind yourself that it is “just a movie”.

I still cannot rid myself of DEADGIRL's disgusting taste.
It is horrible and this, ...this is a horrible, HORRIBLE film.

And I mean that as a MASSIVE compliment.

MARTYRS

I am speechless.
My jaw is literally still open from when this film made it fall to the floor at the beginning.

MARTYRS http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1029234/ Whoa.
I am not going to go into detail about this film, for to spoil it would be unforgivable.
I can only say that it is absolutely brilliant.
Believe me or do not.
I could not care less.
But if you choose to disbelieve me, then it is your loss.

It is easily one of the best films I have ever seen in my life and I believe that it may be the BEST HORROR FILM I HAVE EVER EXPERIENCED.
I'm serious.
This film is like getting hit by a truck.
...If you had never seen a truck before.
You'd be like, "What the fuck is that?" and then it would slam into you with such force that your mind never had a chance to process your own question before the answer obliterated your very existence.
Yeah. It's powerful, yo.

I shall write one of my usual posts about this film sometime in the future; but for now, I must leave you all with nothing but my highest of recommendations and a few little morsels:

1. The breakfast scene stunned me senseless.
2. The bathroom scene terrified me.
3. The 'final stage' had me doubting my own eyes.

This film is NOT an easy journey and you MUST have a strong stomach, but if you feel up to it, then please; witness this film.
Yes, it is disturbing and unpleasant...but the experience is unforgettable.

As I said; I shall return to this film again in a later post.
I have to go and think more about it now...

THE DANCE

I've seen it at least 3 times, now.
No...I believe it was 4 times, if I'm to be truly honest with myself, and I must. For if I fill my own ears with lies and deception, then who knows what that could lead to.
I may grow angry.
I may stalk through the night, blade held tight, stepping in the memorised locations upon the old wooden floorboards of this house that yield no creaking moans of protest.
For I do not wish for my location to be revealed.
I must precisely execute every step of this remembered dance so that I may infiltrate my own sleeping chamber...without waking myself up.
For if I catch even the slightest scent of my own approach then it will be curtains for us all.
I will unleash considerably more than a simple “moan of protest” if I learn of my own vicious plans for this evening. If I am discovered then I will surely tear the wallpaper of this shabby dwelling with screams that would shatter the teeth of a whole choir of sinister angels, rendered deaf by a birth defect that was no mere accident, contrary to what the newsreels will have us all believe.

Damn it.
I'm losing focus...and I cannot afford to do so.

The steps...I must recall the correct steps...
What was the next one? Think!
...Wait.

Something...has just caused a vibration in that area of the memory-web that causes the plump abdomen of the mind to pulsate in anticipation of a delicious new recollection.
Well-timed, too. For I have grown hungry.
This nostalgic morsel will help me maintain my stamina.

...What?
This is no memory.
This...this is a...an understanding.

My god.
How could I not have noticed?
It was so clear.
The floorboards...
“Moan of protest”...
Why did that particular current in my stream of consciousness self-punctuate as if it was in third-person?
Almost as if...it was heard...

Now I hear something...
The soft, disappointed moan of creaking wood was enough to make me turn...yet this reaction was predictably late.
My eyes had only a chance to barely locate my assailant, but not focus on them, as the blade seemed to vanish from my grip and appear elsewhere.
Unfortunately, 'elsewhere' happened to be buried 5 inches into my chest and by the time I understood that brutal fact about my own bodily geography, it was too late.

I did not hear another floorboard creak as I crashed to the floor.
Perhaps, I struck a rare silent board? It could happen.
After all, those boards were integral locations in the many steps I'd committed to memory that made up the 'dance' that allowed me to get close enough to my own sleeping chamber and murder myself while I slept.

*Sigh*
I've never been a good dancer.

Perhaps that fact should have tipped me off that this endeavour was doomed from the beginning.
Surely I should have realised that I would learn of my own sinister intent?
Was I simply too arrogant to acknowledge this fact? Did I consider myself...stronger than myself?
If so, then I must be laughing heartily now.
I hear something...
The moan of another floorboard?
No.
Just laughter.
The soft, raspy laughter that comes from a parched and cracked throat that has known nothing but the flow of endless insults and hostility from the darkness within for years.
That laugh is familiar.
For it is my laugh.
I know it well.

I lie upon the floor and wish I could join in on the mirth...but a punctured lung, shattered rib and flooded chest cavity do not allow for much in the way of vocal expressions of joy.
I listen to myself laugh as I stand over my convulsing body.
The heaving sounds and corporeal shudders have reached a regular rhythm, and I realise that I have done this so many times now, that I can almost perfectly pinpoint the exact moment when 'body' transitions into 'corpse'.
It's a skill. One of many.

I should set my watch to this moment in time.
Where is my watch? No matter.

I utter a bubbling gurgle of fluid and bone fragments as I try to begin a fit of giggling, but I do not hear it because my own laughing has increased in volume and I hear nothing but the cacophony of joyous echoes as they fill the room like unnamed guests at a dinner party.
The laughter sounds like a party, actually.

The wind from the night outside was ideal for masking my footsteps, but now I can barely hear it.
The laughter has drowned everything... and I know that, I too, am drowning.

I try for another gurgle.
Perhaps a bark of final defiance...or a simple giggling word...
...Nope. No good. The laughter is too loud.
Strange; I thought I would feel worse, considering my situation.
Instead, I feel...calm. A sense of satisfaction seems to be a side dish to the main emotion.
Perhaps that laughter really is infectious.
I don't know.
I'll just close my eyes now. I'm tired of looking up at myself.
I never liked myself from that angle anyway.
I can't even hear the wind any more.
I can only hear myself laughing.
I could use a lozenge.
I have things to do. I'm glad my eyes are closing.
Soon...
My eyes are closed.
The change will happen soon. I'm glad. Right on schedule. I don't need my watch.
I can only hear my laughter.
Laughter.
Nothing else.
I cannot hear anything except laughter.
I CANNOT HEAR ANYTHING...except...laughter...

...and the moan of a floorboard from behind me.

It seems louder than usual. Clearer.
My laughing stops.
I cannot look down at my body...or is it a corpse now? I can't tell. There's no time.
I cannot turn around. There's no time. Where the hell is my watch?

I only heard the floorboard.
I only feel the hands alongside my head...as my neck is snapped.
I wish I heard the crack.
I wish I could still hear my laughter...

I open my eyes and blink until I'm satisfied with the clarity.
My mind echoes, but I can't remember the point of origin.
Perhaps I'll remember later.

My throat hurts.
I lick my lips and wonder when was the last time I drank.
Even if I had my watch, it could not provide such information.

The room is dusty...and I can easily see the footprints that I've left upon the floorboards.
Only my prints.
It looks like some kind of dance has taken place.
I lean forward and shift my weight onto a nearby floorboard; one that has no footprint.
...It creaks, like the groan of a disturbed homeless man.
Just as I thought.
I was lying...and it looks like it worked.

After all; I'm an excellent dancer.



(Just writing to see what comes out. This came out. I wrote most of this a couple o' months ago, I think. I can't remember the exact date.)

TITANIC (1997)

Well, the almighty James Cameron is going to unleash AVATAR http://www.traileraddict.com/trailer/avatar/trailer-b in December so why don't we strap our jugs into a corset, hock up a loogie and swing axes at loved ones; as we prepare to jump into the frosty waters surrounding TITANIC http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0120338/ and swim around amongst some of my thoughts on the matter.

If you haven't seen this film; then please send me an email with your first-hand opinion on the advantages of living beneath a rock. In the meantime, I'll give you a brief synopsis:

Two people fall in love on the wrong boat.
Wacky hi jinks ensue.


“Take her to sea, Mr. Murdoch. Let's stretch her legs.”
Let us begin, shall we...

- The most convincing piece of evidence, in my opinion, that this film is amazing and effective is the fact that EVERY time I watch it, I STILL want them to miss the iceberg.
I felt that way on my first viewing and I felt the exact same way on my recent viewing.
I've lost count of how many times I've sailed upon this ship, but each time I return it feels like the maiden voyage again.
Remarkable.

- Jeanette Goldstein has a small role as a the 3rd class Irish mother. It'd be awesome if, when the Titanic staff are holding off the lower classes behind locked gates, she clicked into her Vasquez persona (wielding her Colonial Marines-issue smart gun) and screamed “LET'S ROCK!” before unleashing hot rounds of penetrating death upon the cowering employees.
I also want to see a xenomorph clog-dance against Jack during the steerage party scene. He seems a bit cocky at that point, and I feel his getting served by a chitinous, ebony nightmare with mad dance skillz would've appropriately humbled him a smidgen. Perhaps the alien could go on to win Rose's heart and steal her away from our charming, streetwise artist, eh? Then we could all have been treated to the sight of Rose getting orally impregnated via face-hugger in the back of a jalopy as the xenomorph drone watches, drools and fogs up the windows with panting, hot breath.
Now that I think about it, when Rose and Jack are being pursued by Lovejoy and they flee through the engine rooms, I always expect Charles S. Dutton to jump in and have a manly fistfight against an alien.
Seriously, Dillon was a badass, yo and Alien 3 http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0103644/ is underrated gold, folks.
Go watch it again.

- Victor Garber's 'Mr. Andrews' performance is hilarious if you take it out of context.
He does an amazing job all round...but if you ignore his lines and just focus on his actions, then it's almost like he's slowly going insane as he wanders a damned ghost ship, trying to comprehend who these spectres are that persist on haunting his leisure cruise and chatting to him during meals.
Just try it. Watch his face and imagine he thinks he's surrounded by ghosts. It's great.
Someone could do an amusing editing/hatchet job on this.
Post it on YouTube if you do.
Think of the laughs, children.

- When the ship is starting to sink, Captain Smith basically loses his shit...but he chooses to do so in a quiet and dignified manner. He elects to simply wander around the ship and stare blankly in a state of catatonia...like a well-groomed, short-bearded Santa Claus who just came home to discover his elves running a train on Mrs. Claus.
That'd knock the lemon out of your tea, I'd say.
Then again, perhaps the traumatic situation at hand had nothing to do with Smith's fractured mental state.
Personally, I blame Grima Wormtongue's poisonous influence. He was probably lurking around in steerage; eating rats and waiting for the Titanic to dock at Mordor.
(NOTE: I consulted a weighty textbook on the subject, and I discovered that the Titanic was not scheduled to stop at Mordor. Grima was misinformed.)


“The ship is fiiiiiiiiiiine, Captain. Relax. Let's have a brandy...”

- I saw this 5 times at the cinema.
Coincidentally, I too am an artist and my then-girlfriend's parents hated me as well, so it seemed to fit, no?
...Okay, I didn't freeze to death in the ocean while clinging to an expensively ornate door, but she did go on to live a good life, I assume. So there were some parallels.
I do wish that I could say that I sketched Billy Zane's woman nude, though. That'd be well received during dinner parties, I feel.

- Cameron is a god. Simple.
That being said; I've never understood why douchebags mock the “King of the world!” line + Cameron's usage of it during his Oscar acceptance speech.
Cameron was understandably proud of his achievement and I think that his reaction was actually quite subtle, when you consider how MASSIVE said achievement was.
As for the line in the actual script; even it makes sense and is not worthy of ridicule. Jack had most probably never been in a situation like this before. Yes, he mentions his travels etc but he's still just a starving artist getting by on limited means and, frankly, I'm surprised that he didn't just whip it out and start beating off right there on the foredeck while Fabrizio cheered him on as he aimed for a happily leaping dolphin.
So shouting that he's king of the world? The man showed impressive restraint if you ask me.


"I'm gonna create some awesome."

- The old-Rose lady annoys me.
Nothing against her or her performance, it's just personal taste. She bothers me.
There's an SNL skit where she gets beaten and that brought a satisfied grin to my face. It was quite therapeutic.
It all boils down to her actions, basically. Many people undoubtedly lost jobs because granny threw the Heart in the ocean and decided to live out her final hours as a diamond-wasting, selfish hag. (There's even a deleted scene where Brock mentions the whole financial angle + resources + employees that stresses the magnitude of his whole operation. Sure; he's a treasure hunter...but he's a treasure hunter with investors and employees who all have bills to pay, Rose. But you don't care, do you? Nah. You got your centrefold and you stole a guy's last name...oh, and his life too. Nice.)
But I doubt that she'd even still have it. She basically stepped off the Carpathia like Jason Bourne in a corset. Wouldn't she have sold the rock so that she could finance her new identity as “Rose Dawson” and enjoy a life of endless horse, rollercoaster and plane rides at Cal's expense?
(NOTE: I just had an awesome image of Rose DeWitt Bukater looking all beautiful as she beats the crap out of NY guards a la Jason Bourne. That would be sweet. Hello sequel.)

Paxton should've just followed the ALIENS http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0090605/ trend, adopted his Hudson persona and shouted, “Game Over!” as he rib-kicked her till she coughed up Le Coeur De La Mer.
The cinema would've clapped, I tells ya.


“I'll sketch ya', Granny!”

- People seem to be compelled to mock big ol' grand cinema experiences that seem kind of 'old Hollywood', for want of a better term. That is unfortunate and makes up the bulk of my theory on why AUSTRALIA http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0455824/ was sneered at.
Why this attitude? It baffles me.
As if 'new' Hollywood is so flawless and serves up gold after gold.
There's nothing but remakes, yo.
Stale ones, at that.

- Kate Winslet/ 'Rose DeWitt Bukater' is amazing. (Yes, I agree that Leo carries equal weight in his role and does an excellent job, too. Hell, I'm a big fan and DiCaprio has been doing exceptional, solid work for YEARS, yet it seems like only recently that the masses have realised this. High praise to him, for sure.)
This is probably my favourite Kate Winslet role, along with Clementine from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and I cannot praise her enough.
Can you blame me? I mean, Rose digs artists and poses nude. That's my kinda gal. She's simply awesome.
Now, would I freeze to death for her?... I'm not sure. BUT, I'd be willing to discuss the matter and hear what she has to say.

Tommy Ryan says that “You'd as soon have angels fly out of your arse than get next to the likes of her, boyo.”
That sounds like a challenge, sir.
So, in order to land a classy dame like Rose all I must do is meet her during her suicide attempt that interrupted my stargazing on a luxury cruise liner that I've found myself upon after winning a lucky hand of poker.
...Okay. Simple enough.
Unfortunately, I hate poker. Damn it.
No matter; I guess I'll just have to enjoy my time with Rose while I have it.
That brings me to another wonderful thing about her; Rose, and this film by association, feels like that amazing girl that you met while on vacation and fell in love with. But then the time came for you to both part ways...and she disappeared.
Now, you find that when you see her again every time you watch this film, the memories flow in thick and fast.
I love returning to that feeling and the whole experience still gives me chills.

- The VFX have already been spoken about to death by one and all, so I'll not spread another layer upon the thickness. However, I do feel that the costumes and Rose's wardrobe in particular deserve a mention. Her dresses are simply beautiful and her red/black 'suicide dress' plus her flowing, paper-thin 'survival dress' are my particular favourites. The image of Rose moving along a flooding corridor in that wet dress while carrying a fire-axe is one of those cinematic moments that instantly gets locked away in my memory banks under the 'CLASSIC' heading. She looks so beautiful, yet terrified.
Rightly so too, for that entire sequence with the lower-decks flooding and causing electrical malfunctions has an eerie tone of menace that lends the proceedings a horror movie vibe which becomes quite unsettling.


(Wet chick + Axe = Hot)

- I must briefly draw attention to the deleted scene involving Lovejoy hunting Rose and Jack through the flooding dining rooms. Yes, I agree with Cameron's opinion that it is unnecessary at that stage of the story; but it is still a damn good scene. Take the time to check it out on the DVD.

- Billy Zane is a king amongst lesser men when it comes to being a cad.
Cal is the type of gent who thinks of words – hesitates – then chooses a hearty slap over discussion. Classy move, that.
This upstanding young gentleman also chooses to chase after Rose + Jack...and shoot at them while the ship is sinking. That's commitment to being an asshole, right there. If you're gonna do it wrong – do it right.

I guess the best way for me to express how awesome Titanic is, is by the way it makes me feel when I'm 'on board', so to speak.
Even though the ship is doomed, I want to be on it.
I want to sketch with Jack, hang with Tommy Ryan, dance with Rose and have as many other experiences as I can manage within that limited time frame until the inevitable comes crashing in.

It's the same situation presented within Star Wars, Lord of the Rings and Hogwarts, folks.
These are universes and places that, when you visit, you do not want to leave; and when you finally do step outside the borders, you eagerly wish to return.

I don't care if the ship is going to sink, y'all.
For the chance to spend time with Rose, I'd buy a ticket.
Hell, I'd buy 5 tickets.

(500) DAYS OF SUMMER

I love this film.
I'm not a big fan of sunshine...but if I was, I assume this film could be equated to that warming glow that those harmful rays provide.
Except this marvellous film won't give you cancer and make you look like beef jerky in your later years.

So, let us look at 5 points why (500) Days Of Summer http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1022603/ is awesome.

...Yes, I could be poetic and do 500 reasons if I really tried, but that's a bit much, no? I love delicious Oreos, but if someone offered me 500 of them to eat in one sitting (milk optional), I'd throw them a fist.
It's just not reasonable, people.
So 5 it is.
Count 'em...

1. The entire experience is bittersweet.
You fall in love with Summer...then she's taken from you, and while your heart utters a tiny whimper that goes unanswered within your newly found emptiness, you're still left with a feeling of satisfaction. Sure; you're lonely now and there's that hollow echo of loss within...but you feel like you can cope with what is on the horizon and there's a subtle scent in the wind of the possibility that another person may come along to fill the void left by Summer's absence.
It's such a beautiful film that contains a subtle, painful honesty about life and how it works. Or rather, does not work.
The bittersweet aftertaste continues in that I took away from this film a sense that Tom was only creative and got his act together once he was free of Summer.
Hmmm, so (happiness) + (girlfriend) drowns out creativity?
Great.
I like tits as much as the next sailor, but if having them in my hand means less time with quill and paintbrush in my hand, then forget that.
Can you only be creative when you're alone and/or heartbroken? That's something for poets, artists and scholars to debate.
...But not on date night, apparently. Hmmm.
I'm a big fan of 'love' stories such as this and other films, like Secretary http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0274812/ and Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0338013/, that aim for the audience member that doesn't want to watch yet another mindless rom-com *retches* where Regular Boy meets Plain Girl and happiness is grown together in between scenes of 'love-making' where the chick leaves her bra on.
Nonsense.
That dog won't hunt.
Guys hold their stomachs in, people can decide to stop loving you mid-conversation and chicks take their bras off, yo.
Reality, folks. Pull up a seat and take it all in.
Films need to cater to the other sides of the love coin, now and again. Everything DOESN'T always work out. Problems don't get solved sometimes. Relationships aren't just experienced by flawless, mannequin-like droids with perfect dental work that grin at each other lovingly as they share a straw at the local malt shop.
That crap is only seen in greeting cards and weak films.
Now don't cry foul and reach for the pitchforks, torches and (insert Romantic DVD Boxset purchased for last Valentines Day to persuade partner into leaving the lights on for once) ...for I have nothing against love stories, so to speak.
Quite the opposite, in fact. I believe in love and I like it when I have a Bonnie to my Clyde; however, I just heavily DISLIKE it when most romantic comedies are nothing but weak, cookie-cutter piles of reheated tripe designed to be “date movies” in order to fill 2 hours in an evening spent by couples who fear an actual conversation.
(500) Days Of Summer pleased me because it's a romantic film that displays that there's far more texture and substance to love and relationships than most films give them credit for.

2. Zooey Deschanel is simply a magical entity. I'm convinced that she is not a human; but rather, an alluring being of myth. Similar to a woodland nymph or some other hypnotically playful sprite of lore.
I was captivated by Zooey when I first took note of her in The Good Girl, http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0279113/ (Check it out. It involves Jennifer Aniston showing why she's 1 of the only 2 cast members with a post-FRIENDS career)
where she played a cashier who advises a customer that ginkgo is helpful if urine is splashed on your face.
What a gal.
Here, Zooey's Summer character is a classy dame with style and a kind of librarian-meets-Katy Perry fashion-vibe going on. Love it.
I mean, seriously; how can you not fall for this chick? She pushes Tom into the porn section of a video store, watches the selection with him and then suggests that they incorporate a new act into their bedroom repertoire when she spots a technique that piques her interest.
In the shower, no less. Outstanding.
I'd put a ring on that girl's finger, yo....if I had any money left after buying crate-loads of porn in order to fuel her imagination further.

(She's, like, kinda magical.)

Summer also introduces Tom to The Penis Game.
How many girls have you met that are up for a game that involves saying the word “penis” in public with a progressively increasing level of volume in order to ante up the stakes?
I haven't met any. What's the world coming to?
Dames need to be up for more cock-based games, yo.

I also love the way they describe Summer as being fairly normal and yet they use the term, "The Summer Effect", while describing the amount of double-takes she receives from onlookers during her bus ride and such.
"The Summer Effect" is real, folks.
Such a phenomenon is to blame for much neck trauma that I have suffered as a result of witnessing many a breathtaking dame with Summer-like qualities. That first glimpse is like a shining beacon that draws your eyes back to the source of this pure beauty that entrances onlookers and makes them snap their heads round for a second look to make sure that what they're witnessing is true and not a trick of the light or fevered imagination.
Powerful beings, ladies are...and "The Summer Effect" is a fitting name for such power.

3. The Expectation vs Reality sequence is amazing. I'm gonna type that again and capitalize that shit.
It is AMAZING.
It was so simple, and yet so remarkably accurate. I bet EVERYBODY out there has had whole sequences like this in their lives. I know I have.
...And unfortunately, the reality only rarely equals the expectation.
The whole scene had me feel so happy for Tom...while simultaneously feeling gutted as I watched his reality fracture and branch off onto the path that lead to the numb, sobering ache of reality.
We've all been there, and seeing it displayed so well on the screen in such an elegant fashion, further proved to me that I was dealing with something special here.
That scene plus the 'day-after happiness' dance sequence make it clearly evident that this tale is treated with more care than most. You feel Tom's euphoric state of mind and triumph as he dances along the street and I even found myself bouncing along with the music and wanting to be able to congratulate him myself and join in alongside the animated bird and dancing pedestrians. I would've liked it to go on a bit longer actually, but alas, the story must go on...

(Happiness = Hallucinations)

4. “You like The Smiths?”
There is that 'eureka' moment in the elevator where Tom realizes that he's falling for Summer.
I'm still waiting for my Summer, unfortunately...
I've had those moments in the past...but, usually, some boyfriend has already had the “You like The Smiths?” moment with the girl LONG before I even entered the elevator, so to speak.
That's just annoying.
In fact, fuck The Smiths.

5. The Photocopy Room make-out scene.
I was worried that they were going to pull that ol' cinema trick and abruptly cut out from the kiss to show that it was merely Tom's fantasy.
That would've pissed me off.
Why? Because I WANTED TO MAKE OUT WITH SUMMER IN THE COPY ROOM!
Let me have that fantasy, cinema.
Don't slap me twice like an abusive husband with memory issues by showing me that my FANTASY is also a fantasy. Allow me these small concessions, please.
Thankfully, the kiss was legit, and I – plus Tom – was grateful for that fact.

That'll do for now. (Until I watch this film again after buying the DVD.)
Yes, I cheated and crammed multiple points into single numbers, but oh well.
I'm tricky like that.

MIRRORS (2008)

I finally got around to watching MIRRORS. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0790686/

In the past, I'd placed my ear close to the ground and heard the distant rumblings of others as they stalked across the land and muttered that it wasn't a fantastic film or anything and that I need not saddle my steed and head off to the cinema /video store at full gallop; carelessly trampling pedestrians under-hoof in my determined quest.
However, I did hear comments made about a particular scene.
A scene involving...jaw-breaking.
That was all I needed to hear, y'all.
To paraphrase Renee Zellweger in Jerry Maguire; you had me at “jaw-breaking”.

Here are some thoughts:

- The aforementioned jaw-breaking scene.
I gotta say; it impressed me. I know my way around a horror movie or two and if your story isn't that strong, then you have to even up the balance with some interesting violence or an ample serving of gratuitous tits.
Simple arithmetic, really.
It may even be one of the Commandments. Something along the lines of “Thou shalt include hearty servings of bangin' jugs in thine horror flick”. Don't quote me on that, of course, as I'm no theology professor or anything. (I dropped out just before graduation to pursue a career in the field of Personal Awesome.)
But I digress; this scene is brutally good. I heavily recommend it.
Watch it alone.
Watch it on a first date with a girl. (Tell her it's a new rom-com starring Amy Smart. The trap will be as good as set)
Watch it with a close chum, simply so you'll be allowed the opportunity to remark, “Holy baked shit! Did you just see that chick's jaw get ripped open? Swell!”
I feel it is my duty to pass on such horror gems to you people. It's just the kind of guy I am. Think of me like...Santa Claus.
But instead of spreading gifts, good-will and countless elfin bastards; I recommend scenes of horrific, ghost-influenced skull trauma.
Compose a mall-worthy carol out of those elements, yo.

- The mysterious plot involving the mirrors and so forth is rather bland and starts to outstay it's welcome. Sam and Dean Winchester would have solved this whole fiasco in one night, with time left over for last call at the bar, a couple o'rounds of hustled pool and Dean to bang some floozies in the Impala while Sam...I dunno, did demonic shit and used his laptop. That would've been better. I love Supernatural.

- This is possibly the only film in existence where you can see the grandma from Dawson's Creek play a nun who explodes after being 'filled'...*ahem*... by too many evil spirits, and then turns into a demonic nun who can scurry across walls.
Pacey never would've been able to deal with that kind of crap AND Joey. High school is already hard enough, kids.

- The mother in this film has a rather impressive rack, which she proudly displays to the audience by defending her home and children from vengeful spirits...while wearing a soaking wet singlet top.
Perhaps such attire offers a tactical advantage? Who knows? As I've mentioned many times in the past and in numerous foreign courts; I'm no priest. Who am I to judge whether or not spectral entities from the afterlife are frightened away by dripping-wet, glistening boobs. That sort of topic is not comprehensively covered in most text books that I've flipped through.
All I can say is that if I was a cursed spirit held captive behind a mirror and I saw those goodies; I sure as shit would try and breach my way into their world. I'd watch them like the newest episode of LOST, yo.
Ghosts still got needs, right?


(Who you gonna call?)

- Kiefer Sutherland wanders around in this film and looks equal parts pissed-off, confused and...not really frightened, but more irritated that someone ruined his day. Jack Bauer should be used to this kind of thing by now. (Isn't Season 5 of 24 about angry ghosts who have a nuke or something? I don't pay attention anymore, frankly.)
But 24 jokes aside; let us take a moment to focus on the cold hard facts; ...Kiefer played a badass vampire in The Lost Boys http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0093437/ so when all of the reflective surfaces in his life started giving him attitude, Kiefer should've just clicked into David mode and screamed “I'm an 80's vampire and don't even have a reflection so eat shit, Spooky Mirror!” before riding off on his dirt bike through Santa Carla and listening to saxophone music by a sweaty, pony-tailed, muscleman.
Besides; the kids these days really love a sassy vampire, so I don't know how this opportunity was missed.


"MIIIIIIIIIIRROOORS!"

- The climax REALLY caught me off guard. Seriously.
Just when you think the dust has settled; the acrobatic demon-nun appears and an action scene begins that is reminiscent of Ash's fight against the pit-witch Deadite from Army of Darkness http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0106308/
This unexpected showdown finally culminates in a COMMANDO-flavoured death where the nun gets impaled on a steam pipe a la Bennett. Hell...yes.
I was shocked.
I laughed.
If Matrix was here; he'd laugh too.

- This movie has the most Twilight Zone-y ending ever. I don't know what it is with Alexandre Aja and his 'twist' endings, but they're not really doing it for me. I'm a big fan of the guy, but he needs to leave the twist ending shtick alone.
Unnecessary, yo.

That's about it.
Once again; this film isn't the freshest meat on the counter; but it has some decent moments and besides, say it with me, people; “JAW...BREAKING...SCENE.”


(This is the wrong film.)


Oh yeah, MIRRORS is a remake of the South Korean film, Geoul sokeuro
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0372937/ I haven't seen it but after watching this, I think it'd be worth hunting down.

Enjoy.

NEW ART: Onion, Girl 02

Another batch of art, fresh from the oven...

Onion Hair: http://cabinetminister.deviantart.com/art/Onion-Hair-137501306
Girl 02: http://cabinetminister.deviantart.com/art/Girl-02-137508074

Enjoy.