A Sundo that doesn’t take you anywhere
Posted by: Althea Ricardo on: April 2, 2009
For some time during my early childhood, we had maids from the Visayas to take care of me and my siblings. Many of them were from my parents’ Cebu hometowns, while some were from neighboring provinces. I was fond of those who shared stories from back home, especially if their stories touched on the supernatural. In early afternoons, when we had to take a nap, I would pester them to tell me about ghosts and elementals, and, sometimes, I would find myself engaged in stories about forest spirits who offered enchanted food to unsuspecting mortals or tales of supernatural creatures disguised as animals who scared unwitting nighttime travelers or random tips on how to spot elementals blending in with humans, especially from noon up to three o’clock. Perhaps it is this part of my childhood that brought out the storyteller in me. In any case, I’ve always thought our many creepy superstitious beliefs should be mined for film and fiction.
Ever since I could watch movies on my own, I’ve always made it a point to watch Filipino horror films—to the disapproval of my mother, who thinks I’m only feeding myself evil thoughts. For me, however, it’s a way of getting back the stories that had my heart racing as a child and it’s also a way of preserving, albeit in a diluted or even messed up way, some of our enthralling folklore.
In the 1990s, I delighted in the movies Tiyanak and Aswang. I try to catch Shake, Rattle and Roll all the time for that one-third of the film that would feature a real Filipino story (often the one that features an aswang). Last weekend, I caught Sundo on the big screen, expecting it to be an excellent watch, because it was one of the more popular superstitions that, at least to my knowledge, hadn’t been explored on the big screen.
The premise is interesting enough: Romano (Robin Padilla) is a former military operative who wakes up from a coma after getting hurt in a gun fight and discovers that he sees dead people, specifically the souls of people who come to pick up (or, in Filipino, sundo) the souls of the dying. (My grandfather, Tranquilino Rivera, was said to have called out names of the long dead in the days before he uttered, “Hay, salamat!” and breathed his last. I’m sure many of you have heard the same of your own dead.)
When Romano agrees to accompany his blind sister Isabel (Rhian Ramos) to Manila, they hitch a ride with a childhood friend, Louella (Sunshine Dizon), who knows the eye doctor that could help Isabel. Three other people hitch a ride in the Manila-bound van driven by Louella’s driver Baste (Mark Bautista): a recently widowed woman, Lumen (Glydel Mercado), her nephew Eric (Hero Angeles), and an aspiring actress they picked up on the road, Kristina (Katrina Halili).
The van narrowly escapes a fatal accident, which Romano foresees in a dream and is able to prevent. Soon, however, they realize that are still on Death’s list and their sundo (complete with black, smoky eyes) would be unrelenting in their insistence to pick their souls up—until all their names are crossed out on the list.
It is at this point that Sundo takes on the feel of Final Destination—minus the sincere effort of the characters to stay alive and the interesting dynamics between people who are strangers to each other yet facing a common threat. The characters shift from one gory scene to another in which it doesn’t seem they have any problems. For example, one of them is electrocuted and burnt to a crisp, and the next thing you know, they’re eating sizzling squid in a canteen. I don’t know about you, but that would be the last thing I would order. Heck, food would be the last thing on my mind!
There are many scary scenes in the movie, mostly Romano’s encounters with the spirits of the dead. I particularly enjoyed the image of decomposing feet floating beside him—I mean, who hasn’t heard of floating spirits? However, the special effects tend to succumb to overkill. The visions are scary enough by themselves, but they just had to add that overused “breathing-slash-panting” sound effect.
The strength of the film is Topel Lee’s technical expertise. Each scene is well-composed and I would have totally freaked within the first twenty minutes, if not for the story’s many flaws, foremost among which are the many unnecessary details that only muddle up the film. For example, why make Romano a military operative at all? What place does a gun have among ghosts? The only reason I can think of is that it is Robin Padilla, an action star, who portrays him.
The acting is not outstanding. This is unfortunate, because I’ve come to appreciate Padilla’s acting skill in other genres, and I was rooting for him in his initial foray into horror. His portrayal of Romano, a troubled man haunted by both combat stress reaction and ghosts, is rather comical. I suspect, however, that the editing is largely at fault. The way his scenes play out, I’m likely to believe that the only thing that keeps Isabela from thinking her brother is on drugs is that fact that she’s blind.
As for the other members of the cast, they’re all competent, but there’s nothing memorable about their performances. Sunshine Dizon seems poised to take over more mature roles—and I don’t mean this as a euphemism for sexy. She holds her ground against Padilla. The young Rhian Ramos, on the other hand, plays a blind woman well (it’s just strange how her blindness was supposed to have been caused by an accident, but her pupils are bluish-white). It was good to see Hero Angeles again, although I’m not sure if he could do horror, thanks to his dimples.
The biggest failure of this film is failing to go deeper into the lore itself. I don’t understand why they have to make Death—or Kamatayan—a seemingly evil monster, in effect, displacing it from the Filipino psyche and requiring the movie to work harder than necessary.
It doesn’t take a monster to scare us. Just poise us on the verge of the unknown. Any Filipino who listened to supernatural tales from the provinces would know that.
Movie dates with my little girl
Posted by: Althea Ricardo on: March 31, 2009
I played nanny again to my niece Keona on Saturday. It wasn’t really planned, as I had a long list of to-dos (including watching Sundo) and her real nanny was away for the weekend, but she was so excited when I asked her if she wanted to go with me to SM (“Wait, I get my Crocs,” she replied), so I ended up going to the mall, happy anyway to have a two-year-old in tow.
Now, what do you do if you’re alone with a two-year-old, and you don’t even know enough to remember that bringing her would also mean you had to bring a small backpack filled with an extra diaper (just in case, as she often does without them now), baby bottles filled with distilled water, powdered milk, a lampin, and extra clothes? You do three things: A. You find out the “password” that would make her behave (in Keona’s case, it is “Do you want to go home?”); B. You do a juggling act with bags on one arm, and baby on the other; C. You ask her if she wants to wee-wee at ten-minute intervals; and D. You take her to places that would actually interest her, but not to places that would interest her too much. That means, P80 per 30-minute play area, yes, but Toy Kingdom, no, no, no, no, no!
I once had an Italian student who said he had realized that there were no baby girls, only little women. This, I now understand with Keona. But I’m a woman too, and I’ve discovered ways to convince her to behave, or to do what I want her to do. When she wants to be carried, all thirty or so pounds of her, I would pretend to cry and say, “Auntie is tired and auntie is crying.” and she would touch my face and say, “It’s okay, Auntie.” and forget about being carried. When she wants to linger too long at a toy display, I run away and say, “Bye, Auntie is leaving!” and she would run after me.
When I wanted to watch a movie last Saturday—because I was so tired and I just wanted to sit down and relax and still have some bonding time with her—and she’d said, “No,” the first time I asked her if she wanted to watch a film, I said, “It’s like Mamma Mia!” which was the first movie she watched. “Mamma Mia?” she asked me. And she would ask me this several times as the first few scenes of Monsters vs. Aliens rolled in. Happily, the animation of this DreamWorks film is perfectly captivating for little children, so the moment she saw the first US military airplane, she stayed quiet and stood on tip-toes for most of the film, powered by popcorn.
Now, let me tell you about that popcorn—which is the reason why I mentioned item B. a few paragraphs ago. I also did some shopping, so by the time we watched the movie, I had a total of three bags and a kid on my arms. As you all very well know, popcorn is yet another bag altogether. Five minutes into the pre-movie trailers, our buttered popcorn was already on the floor, and Keona was practically begging for it. We had to make a mad dash to the snack booth—bags and all.
Monsters vs. Aliens is one of those films that parents and children would equally enjoy. I doubt if Keona got all the punch lines—US President Hathaway (voiced by Stephen Colbert) is perhaps the funniest character—and she did cover my mouth when I laughed out loud, but she liked the fast-paced action, with the helicopters and planes shooting at a cute, gigantic one-eyed robotic probe. She wasn’t scared at all by the monsters and aliens, and when I asked her, “Are you a monster or an alien?” halfway into the film, she smiled and said, “I’m Keona!”
The story about good monsters fighting evil aliens also has a message about self-acceptance in it somewhere, with the surprise metaphor of a mutant grub developing into something rather fascinating. I suppose it would have been better watched in 3D (and I promise to do this with Keona when Coraline is showing), but at the end of the day, only one thing matters to me when it comes to the budding tradition that is my movie dates with this little girl.
“Are you happy?” I asked her, as I finally obliged to carry her to our ride home.
She looked at me and touched my cheek, smiled, and said, “Yes, Auntie!”
Dora grows up
Posted by: Althea Ricardo on: March 19, 2009
- In: Personal | Television | VCD/DVD
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When we were at the Bohol Bee Farm last summer, we took my two-year-old niece Keona down to the cliffside two-level deck to check out the view of the sea. She ran up the stairs to the upper deck, grabbed onto the railing, peered out into the ocean and called out, “Help! Help! Ayudame!” several times. We were at a loss as to what that was all about, but she seemed to have a nice little fantasy scenario going on, so we just delighted in her antics and let her be. It wasn’t until I chanced upon her watching one of her many Dora the Explorer DVDs that I discovered she was actually playing out a scene from the episode Dora Saves the Prince.
It was at that moment that I became a fan of adventurous, bilingual, little Latina heroine who lives in a computer world with her little monkey friend.
In Dora Saves the Prince, Dora and her friend Boots go on a storybook mission to save Prince Ramón—and yes, you have to pronounce that with a rolling R—from the wicked witch who captured him. The wicked witch has trapped Prince Ramón in a stone tower, and he looks out the window, calling out—guess what?—“Help! Ayudame!”
Keona, needless to say, is a real Dora fan. Last Halloween, she went trick or treating wearing a Dora outfit, complete with a singing Backpack. (She had two, actually; the hard plastic battery-operated Backpack she got from my older brother and a same color cloth backpack for the treats.) To top the look, she had a little Boots stuffed toy strapped on her arm.
She’s been to a “meet and greet” too. When Nickelodeon brought Dora over to the mall near our house, she patiently lined up to have her picture taken with the big Dora mascot. She was too star-struck to move—my mother insists “terrified” is a better word, since she wasn’t really expecting to see a giant-sized Dora—but, still, she lined up for a second Dora moment.
It amazes me to see what watching Dora has done for Keona, as I had previously believed children would really gain nothing from watching TV. She would point at a star and say, “Estrella.” She would pick out the color orange and say “Naranja.” When needing help from her nanny she would cry out, “Ayudame!” After successfully carrying out a task—like getting her plastic bottle of Bubble Maker from a high spot on the shelf—she would say, “We did it! We did it, Auntie!” When she wants to find something, she orders her Mommy to, “Say ‘map!’”
So you can understand why I was a little bit concerned when I first saw “tween” Dora merchandise while Christmas shopping last year. I hadn’t heard any news about it, and the merchandise had that “pirated” look (and it most probably was, judging from the timeline of events), so I brushed it off as a spoof. In February, however, to much parental outrage and controversy, TV network Nickelodeon and toymaker Mattel announced that, indeed, the little girl has grown up.
Dora’s tweenage self moves to the big city (what, from her computer?), attends middle school, and has a fashionable new look.
She wears a flowery tunic, purple leggings, and sandals. She grew out her hair and is—gasp!—wearing what looks like lip gloss. She’s around 9 years old, starting to be a looker with shapely legs, and I’m not sure she’s keeping her animal friends because I read somewhere that she’s going to be solving environmental and academic mysteries with her girlfriends.
When the announcement came out, worried parents started online petitions and protests against the makeover. Many argued that the vamped up Dora will no longer be a great role model for their daughters, expressing concern that the franchise could go the way of Bratz and Barbie. I get this concern, because it’s hard enough to find something fun and educational for toddlers these days.
Nickelodeon, on their part, insisted in a statement that, “The reason for creating this new Dora line is to offer an alternative to moms who want their daughters to stay little girls a little longer.” In fact, as of now, there’s no specific word on a new cartoon series, which also means that the preschooler Dora the Explorer isn’t going anywhere.
What has been confirmed, though, is that the new Dora line, called Dora’s Explorer Girls, is going to focus on online play. The tweenage Dora is actually an interactive, customizable doll that girls can plug into the computer to gain access to her brand new, interactive online world—and it’s promising “the most unique interactive experience yet,” so says an article on chipchicklets.com.
I’m thinking it will be a magically-transforming doll, plus an online community with an evolving storyline. Sounds interesting enough. Still, I’m crossing my fingers it will be age-appropriate, even for tweens.
I’m also crossing my fingers the Little Einsteins don’t grow up.
On ‘The Unborn’
Posted by: Althea Ricardo on: March 17, 2009
- In: Films
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I was in the mood for horror this weekend—as I think I will be for the rest of summer—so I was happy to see The Unborn was already showing. I was interested in it for three reasons: the trailer was creepy; it stars Odette Yusman, that pretty girl from Cloverfield; and Gary Oldman is in it. It turned out to be a fair choice—not unforgettable, given all the scary myths we Filipinos have gotten used to, but scary enough to have me covering my eyes for the first half, and comforting myself with a Snickers Almond bar and a Baby Ruth bar for the second half. (That’s what I get for watching horror movies alone!)
As can be surmised from the title, it’s about a ghost of a child that wasn’t born. It’s nothing new—we have our own tiyanak stories ourselves—but the film’s interesting take is that it delves into Jewish folklore and introduces the idea of a dybbuk into mainstream consciousness. A dybbuk is a dislocated soul of a dead person that possesses the bodies of people in its desperate search for a way to get back to earth after being denied the afterlife.
The Wikipedia entry explains it could have escaped Gehenna (which we translate as “hell”), or it could have been banned from it for sins that are unacceptable even in Gehenna, like suicide. It also says that “a soul that has not been able to fulfill its function in its lifetime is given another opportunity to do so in the form of a dybbuk. It will leave once it has accomplished its goal, sometimes after being helped.” In The Unborn, it’s just pure, creep-inducing evil.
Yusman plays the role of Casey Beldon, just your ordinary stunningly beautiful and super-sexy health buff college student who has an amazingly handsome boyfriend who’d do anything to make her happy, including risk his life in a Jewish-Episcopalian exorcism.
She first senses that something is wrong in the form of a disturbing dream: She’s running down an isolated stretch of road when she sees a dark green glove on the ground. She picks it up, turns around, and sees a boy with a glove missing. The boy becomes a dog wearing a human mask. She follows it into the woods, finds the mask on the ground, and starts digging—only to find a fetus in a jar. Casey and her superstitious friend Romey (Meagan Good) translate it to mean some changes are afoot in her life. She can bet her life on it, too.
A series of hauntings take place, and Casey’s eye change color—a phenomenon that only happens in twins. She discovers she is, indeed, a twin, but that her brother died before being born. This family secret leads to the discovery of more family secrets—until she discovers a woman who holds the key to everything.
The Unborn starts off powerfully, picks up when Rabbi Sendak (Oldman) comes into the picture, and sort of slows down, as horror films are wont to do, when the entire story falls into place. It does, however, leave some powerful images: there’s the haunting dream that opens the film, the dog with the upside-down head as the dybbuk, and the frightening scene of a paralyzed man being possessed by the dislocated soul.
I’d say the film works because director David S. Goyer knows how to manipulate silent moments; the original score by Ramin Djawadi is evocative of the silence before the storm; and the cinematographer James Hawkinson gives viewers a good panorama of a chilling—both literally and figuratively—treat. They should have hired an Asian guy to do the special effects, though, as nothing does creepy-pale-and-sinister-looking-boy-in-the-mirror better than Asian horror.
John Lloyd and Sarah, a notch higher
Posted by: Althea Ricardo on: March 12, 2009
When I first heard news of the sequel to A Very Special Love, I wasn’t surprised. These days, big movie studios would think nothing of milking a sure thing for all that it’s worth—you can’t blame them; it’s not easy to make a buck these in many industries in these times—but I was a little concerned. I’d seen what Sakal, Sakali, Saklolo did to Kasal, Kasali, Kasalo, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted that for Miggy Montenegro and Laida Magtalas. As it was, A Very Special Love isn’t on sacred territory. Poor or hurried handling could totally wreck the franchise—and that would just break my little local-mainstream-movie-going heart.
As it turned out, I had nothing to worry about. Trust Cathy Garcia-Molina and her crew to push the already successful John Lloyd Cruz and Sarah Geronimo tandem further. It’s rare that a sequel surpasses its predecessor, but this is what You Changed My Life managed to do with aplomb!
You Changed My Life brings back the whole crew, plus a new face in Rayver Cruz, on a bigger, more mature scale. In my book, it’s the main story to which A Very Special Love was pre-story. Laida and Miggy have grown up as a couple. Miggy is now handling bigger responsibilities at the family conglomerate, while Laida has been promoted from being his assistant to account executive at Flippage. They work in the same Montenegro-owned building, so they clock in a lot of couple time. Best of all, Miggy has absorbed some of Laida’s sunshine and is starting to show some signs of humor (which totally becomes John Lloyd, if you ask me).
This film picks up six months into their relationship—with the first six months captured in a delightful montage and engaging voice-over from Laida at the beginning of the film. Miggy is happy to be finally in a meaningful relationship that makes up for the formality and composure of his family. Laida is thrilled as ever to be with her prince. Miggy is balancing work, meeting family expectations and his love life. Laida’s priorities, on the other hand, are work and Miggy—but not exactly in that order.
It’s all good, for a while, with everybody happy in their proper places—until life throws their romance a curve ball. First, it’s Laida who gets a rare instant job offer to work in Canada. Like the proper girlfriend that she is, she mulls it over, discusses it with Miggy, and chooses love over immigration. Miggy doesn’t say it, but he’s so happy he does cry (which totally becomes John Lloyd as well, if you ask me.
Next, it’s Miggy’s turn to be offered another job—in the family-owned industrial laundromat in Laguna. Like the proper girlfriend that she is, Laida initially goes all-out in her support for Miggy, never mind that he has to bring her to work way too early just to make it to Laguna on time and they have to sacrifice a lot of their couple-time. When Miggy starts being late or totally missing important events (or even ones important only to the romantic Laida), this takes a toll on their perfect, dreamy relationship.
The third curve ball is the handsome blast from the past Mackoy Romero, who ends up working as an editorial assistant in Laida’s office. Mackoy is Laida’s high school best friend who left her hanging when he chose to go to a different school.
I have to say, Laida has consistent taste in men: she goes for the handsome, sensitive type you could bring home to mother.) Mackoy’s in love with Laida, and his ultimate expression of it —always perfectly complemented by Gio Alvarez’s antics as Vincent the officemate—is one of the best moments of the film.
Some asides: When John Lloyd appeared next to Aga Muhlach in Dubai, I felt it as a passing-the-baton of sorts. I felt the same way with John Lloyd and Rayver, albeit on a smaller scale. John Lloyd is consistently, if not increasingly excellent. Sarah, on the other hand, is showing star power so serious, she’s outshining the rest of the competition—even the Sharon Cuneta’s heir.
How all the conflicts are resolved is the stuff real love stories are made of—sacrifice, prioritizing, support, open communication, a sincere desire for the best for the other, and a whole lot of humor.
If you want a reel love story that feels real, You Changed My Life is it.
FrancisM
Posted by: Althea Ricardo on: March 10, 2009
The first boy I ever liked was two things: my brother’s first best friend and, like my brother, a big Francis Magalona fan. This was in the late 1980s, which meant they copied everything about Francis: his moves, his funky hairstyle, and his fashion statement. Remember his ethnic phase, when he wore baggy batik pants and vests? I didn’t think this cool at first, because I was the kind of private Catholic schoolgirl torn between admitting I watched That’s Entertainment! and leaving this kind of make-or-break information within the confines of my house. But part of Francis’ magic is that he makes everything cool—and he made one very important thing cool: being Filipino.
At that time, mostly foreign acts were hitting the airwaves. All we knew of rap were Vanilla Ice and MC Hammer. The parents and teachers didn’t get rap; they either thought it was the greatest joke ever that somebody talking fast could be considered singing, or they believed it was, like the music of Guns and Roses, “bad influence.” I didn’t know anything much about it either, except that I thought it was a purely American thing, black or white. What I knew about Filipino music was the likes of “Anak,” “Saranggola ni Pepe,” or “Handog ng Pilipino sa Mundo.” There was Jose Mari Chan, with his ballads, but they fell along nicely with Barry Manilow hits, so that didn’t count—at least not at first.
But then FrancisM arrived.
I first noticed Francis—as in saw there was more to his Bagets 2 and Ninja Kids antics—when he sang Billy Joel’s “We Didn’t Start the Fire” on That’s! To me, it was a landmark moment, so much so that I even penned it in my grade school diary: “Today Francis Magalona sang “We Didn’t Start the Fire.” I’ve never heard a Filipino sing like that before!” For some reason, with that performance, he opened a door in the wall of colonial mentality for me—the same wall that he would bravely keep breaking down with songs like “Mga Kababayan Ko,” which made me admire the man for life, even if I’m probably still as clueless about rap and hip-hop as I was.
When “Mga Kababayan Ko,” came out, suddenly, there was Pinoy music that spoke to our generation. Filipino became cool. Kids at my school, who were reared on 21 Jumpstreet and Milli Vanilli and Archie comics, started saving lunch money for his album Yo! and even teachers begrudgingly allowed his music to be played on the loudspeakers during school-wide events.
Francis would become a constant in the years following. He would release some more hits. He would venture into photography. He would inspire and support other rappers. He would join Eat Bulaga! He would design t-shirts that would banner nationalistic fever. He would do all these, always an artist, always consistent with his Filipino pride. And then he would die.
But Francis’ vibe was always young; his movement, always forward. On Saturday, during the Eat Bulaga! tribute, one young rapper said that when he told Francis about other people dissing him, Francis replied, “Ang tunay na (rap)legend, imbis na sumisira, gumagawa. Imbis na nagsasawa, simula ng simula.”
Spoken like an artist. Spoken like a true Filipino. Spoken like a true patriot.
Francism has truly arrived.
There are break-ups
Posted by: Althea Ricardo on: March 5, 2009
And there are break-ups. If you think it’s tough to have to reply to Facebook comments when you and your significant other announce you’ve—gasp!—decided to end your relationship, try putting your feet in some showbiz celebrities’ shoesies.
Breaking up is never easy in Showbiz Lala Land, where celebrities have to fend off anything from crazy glossy-grade rumors to green-eyed monsters that are waiting to drag them down to the same level of misery to bright-eyed fans eagerly expecting any passable form of enlightenment from someone who’s been to hell and back, never mind if said celebrity is still nursing your heart, or ego, whichever one is more hurt. And then there are people like me, who just read on out of morbid curiosity.
Showbiz news has been full of breakups once again. Some were to be expected, if not heavily anticipated, while others were honestly shocking—even to disinterested observers. Here’s a rundown of some of them.
“We’re too different from each other.”
I won’t say I didn’t see this one coming. I’m not a fan of either, but I did catch a pre-concert interview Pops Fernandez did for her reunion concert with Martin Nievera, and her body language told me she wasn’t going to settle down with Jomari Yllana, who recently confirmed their break-up, anytime soon.
Various members of the entertainment press had been asking them about their wedding plans, to which they only gave non-committal answers, from “We’re enjoying what we have.” to “We’re not yet past the getting-to-know-you stage.” I chalked it up to fear—both have had to go through failed marriages—and concern for their children, and now Jomari has cited “irreconcilable differences.”
I think they’re handling it well, though—Jomari only confirmed the rumor, but didn’t add fuel to the fire. Pops, on the other hand, is keeping mum. I’m expecting a tell-all soon, though.
“I just realized that I don’t want to be attached.”
She’s only the hottest thing since Angelina Jolie at 22. He, on the other hand, is already 35 and has had his heyday in the 1990s. A lot of tongues started wagging when Brian Austin Green bagged teenage Megan Fox four years ago, and they wagged some more when the pair got engaged in 2006. The thing is, while he’s now a regular on the television series The Sarah Connor Chronicles, she’s set to reprise her biggest role yet as Mikaela on Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. This means his career is pretty steady, but hers is just about to burst wide open.
She has this to say about the break-up: “I feel like I need to set my career and do a movie other than Transformers. Then I’ll explore family.”
This is what others have to say: “She’s trading up.”
I think it’s smart not to get married at 22. I also think you should never get a tattoo of the name of anybody you didn’t give birth to or didn’t give birth to you.
“It’s not you, it’s her.”
In perhaps what is the most shocking twist in the history of The Bachelor, Jason Mesnick proposes marriage to one contestant only to take it back and go after the runner-up—all on television! I don’t watch The Bachelor or its girl version The Bachelorette anymore, not since the first two seasons, I think, but even I couldn’t ignore this tidbit when I came across it.
The format of the show is pretty much the same: boy dates many girls living in one mansion, boy whittles down the number of girls until he’s down to two, and for the finale, boy leads the two girls on (wines and dines them, introduces them to family, sneaks in some kisses and what-have-you) before he finally proposes marriage to one of them.
In the recently concluded The Bachelor, Jason gets down on one knee and proposes marriage to a giddy Melissa Rycroft in the Final Rose segment, only to take it back and ask for another chance with Molly Malaney six weeks later, in the After the Final Rose segment! Jason catches Melissa off-guard, she calls him a bastard and then storms off, Molly appears on stage, and then Jason asks her out on a date. Whew.
I don’t know if I should laugh or cry. Honestly. What I think I do know is that we all know who’s going to be the next Bachelorette.
A never-ending story, indeed
Posted by: Althea Ricardo on: March 3, 2009
- In: Films
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I still remember the first film we popped into our brand new Betamax player: The Neverending Story. If, at 31, I am still enthralled by the world of books and movies, it is thanks to Bastian, reading his magical book in a dusty attic, and saving the magical land he was reading about by calling out his mother’s name into the brewing storm, through the attic window. I must have relived that moment a thousand and one times in my childhood. In fact, I remember the exchanges so well:
Childlike Empress: Bastian! Why don’t you do what you dream, Bastian?
Bastian: But I can’t! I have to keep my feet on the ground!
Childlike Empress: Call my name! Bastian, please! Save us!
Bastian: All right, I’ll do it. I’ll save you. I will do what I dream! (He climbs up the window.) Moonchild!
And then, it was complete dark.
Bastian: Why is it so dark?
Empress Moonchild: In the beginning it is always dark.
A small light appears, and it starts growing, until we see their faces. The light comes from something in Moonchild’s hand.
Bastian: What is that?
Empress Moonchild: One grain of sand. It is all that remains of my vast empire.
Bastian: Fantasia has totally disappeared?
Empress Moonchild: Yes.
Bastian: Then everything has been in vain.
Empress Moonchild: No, it hasn’t. Fantasia can arise in you. In your dreams and wishes Bastian.
I suppose you can say my life is my own Fantasia in the making, and I’ve been doing what I want, battling the debilitating Nothing, after being given my own personal one grain of sand by this film.
Influential though it may be to my life, I’m not quite sure what to make of the news that Hollywood is in its early stages of a remake, courtesy of The Kennedy/Marshall Co. (which brought us The Curious Case of Benjamin Button) and Leonardo DiCaprio’s company Appian Way, which are in discussions with Warner Bros. about reviving the 25-year-old franchise and giving it a modern spin.
The last time I revisited The Neverending Story, which was released in 1984 and directed by Wolfgang Petersen, it still worked for me—as much as, in fact, the earlier Star Wars films did when I watched them all over again.
Hollywood has been making a lot of remakes lately—and I’m not even referring to foreign films it adapted, like the straight-to-DVD My Sassy Girl. I’ve heard news so far of remakes of well-loved films like Footloose (starring High School Musical’s Zac Efron), Fame, Child’s Play, The Fly (yes, another one), Short Circuit, and classics like Akira Kurosawa’s The Seven Samurai and Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds. I’m not very optimistic about any of these films, but I’m still open to being surprised!
I’m more worried about The Neverending story, though, because of the images that have imprinted themselves in my mind that I don’t want to give up, much like I don’t want to think of anyone else other than Daniel Radcliffe as Harry Potter. Barrett Oliver is Bastian. Noah Hathaway is Atreyu. And I don’t want them changing even the slightest strand of hair on the Falkor, the luckdragon.
As early as now, however, I can hear cash registers ringing. I’d love to get a brand-new copy of the book—hard-bound, and with a golden AURYN on the cover, please. I’m sure they’ll make a load of cash on merchandising, too. I, for one, wouldn’t mind getting my own little AURYN pendant, now that I can afford one that’s not made of plastic and won’t turn gray in a couple of days. And, what I’d give to have a Falkor stuff toy!
The unforgettable theme song, by Limahl, is already readily available on YouTube.
‘He’s Just Not That Into You’: Self-help or no help?
Posted by: Althea Ricardo on: February 25, 2009
- In: Films
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When the bestselling self-help book He’s Just Not That Into You came out in 2004, it supposedly helped millions of girls finally get their guys. I don’t mean get in a The Rules: Time-Tested Secrets for Capturing the Heart of Mr. Right kind of way. I mean get, as in, “to understand,” that, if he’s not going for you, it’s simply because he’s just not that into you. End of story.
Or not. Of course they just had to turn it into a movie—and one that, in effect, sort of subverts what the book is all about. With the movie He’s Just Not That Into You, Drew Barrymore’s Flower Films does a pretty good job at turning the bestseller book into a blockbuster film, but fails at capturing the book’s liberating effect. It wasn’t hard to do this, given that the film is a work of fiction, and nobody wants a chick flick that doesn’t have a happy ending.
It wasn’t exactly a feel-good film—my best friend Sherwil, who has read the book, says it made her sad—but it still delivered a sufficiently marketable amount of celluloid fantasy of the same sort that got us girls into trouble in the first place.
The main message of He’s Just Not That Into You, the book, is that any guy who keeps you waiting (for a call, for a date, for a confession of eternal love, for a marriage proposal, and, in a specific context, for sex) isn’t worth waiting for, because you deserve someone who doesn’t make you wait at all. “Don’t waste the pretty,” co-writer Greg Behrendt admonishes women.
He’s Just Not That Into You, the film, spends a bulk of its 129 minutes presenting the same argument. The main guy and behavioral-expert-slash-bar-owner Alex (Justin Long) advices the main girl and serial-first-dater Gigi (Ginnifer Goodwin) on the ways of men when it comes to dating, sex, and love. As Gigi goes through one first date after another, he imparts nuggets of dating wisdom like, “If a guy treats you like he doesn’t give a s— it’s because he doesn’t give a s—.” and “If you can find him, then he can find you. If he wants to find you, he will.” and “An excuse is a polite rejection. Men are not afraid of ‘ruining the friendship.’”
The build up brings you through a series of, well, empowering moments—until it dishes out the notion of “the Exception.” If you’ve ever heard of a friend who knew of a friend who went through a hell of a bad time but still got her man, that’s the exception. Meaning, you, like most other women, are the rule.
Gigi, who you just can’t help but root for, eventually gets her man, too. In fact, the moment they get together dishes out the power line in the film: “You’re my exception.” And how did she get to that point? By reading “the signs,” as imparted by Some Kind of Wonderful and going through a bad time with the object of her affection. Girls being girls, this is the only “truth” that really registers. In fact, I think many of us left the theater thinking, “I can wait until he realizes I am the exception!”
The other stories in the film don’t stand out as much as Gigi’s and Alex’s, but they also explore other facets of love and relationships. There’s Neil (Ben Affleck) and Beth (Jennifer Aniston), who’ve been living together for seven years. He doesn’t want to get married, while she realizes she does. There’s Ben (Bradley Cooper) and Janine (Jennifer Connelly), who got married after college even if they weren’t ready. Ben finds himself drawn to Anna (Scarlett Johansson), who’s convinced Ben can leave his wife for her. There’s Conor (Kevin Connolly), who dates Gigi and does the disappearing act because he’s in love with Anna. And there’s Mary (Drew Barrymore), who’s navigating the techie dating scene and still finds love, with a little modern twist, in a coffee shop.
The underlying wisdom in all these little love stories is that there’s really no point in pushing the issue. There’s wisdom in waiting—that’s the big truth.
Unfortunately, in the girl parlance, that’s: He may just not be that into you now, but…
On ‘Push’ and Special Powers
Posted by: Althea Ricardo on: February 24, 2009
- In: Films
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Typical of young children who have nothing interesting going on in their young lives, I grew up fantasizing I had special powers. I had “powers du jour,” meaning, the power I wanted changed from day to day, based on what I wanted.
On some days, I fancied being able to turn invisible—when I had to hide from an authority figure, for instance, or when I wanted to take vengeance on classroom bullies. For the latter, I figured the ability to make things move—or telekinesis—would suffice. Maybe I could cause a piece of chalk to fly into said bully’s mouth. Or, I could spill chocolate milk on her notebook, right before the teacher was about to check her work.
At some point, particularly when I was craving for something, like chocolate, I wanted the power to be able to change things. I wanted to be able to make money appear in front of me, so I could buy whatever I wanted. Of course, I still had to figure out where the real money would come from, as even then, I didn’t want to abuse my non-existent powers.
I once fancied being able to see the future, too, but faced with the possibility of seeing my own death or the deaths of the people I love, I quickly vetoed this option. I suppose this is why, as I watched Push, I identified best with Dakota Fanning’s character, Cassie Holmes.
Push creates a world in which some people, both kids and adults, have the above-mentioned special powers—and more. The film features Movers (the telekinetic), Watchers (those who can see the future), Pushers (those who can force a suggestion in people’s minds), Sniffs (those who can read objects to know where they’ve been and what happened around them), Shifters (those who can change things), Bleeders (those who can kill people by screaming), Shadows (those who can block Pushers, Sniffs, and, for a while, Watchers), and Wipers (those who can erase people’s memories). The strongest power, I surmise, belongs to the Pusher, because they can mess with the minds of others, going as far as creating phantom memories. These super-psychic people have been “harvested” for a long time by governments who want to use them for warfare, and in Push, they’re battling a U.S. government agency called the Division dedicated to this purpose, and for which super-psychic people also work.
Pusher Kira (Camilla Bell) escapes the Division after surviving a drug that would either kill her or boost her powers. She brings the valuable drug with her to Hong Kong, where her boyfriend Mover Nick (Chris Evans) is hiding. An old plan—prepared years ago by Cassie’s mother, who is one of the best Watchers—unfolds, bringing Watcher Cassie into Nick’s life, as well as bring other super-psychic people together. Cassie says in the beginning that battles have been fought, but now is the time to win the war.
The film can’t escape comparison to X-Men or, even, Heroes. There’s a striking difference, however, that allows Push to stand on its own: It’s got the special effects, alright, but it’s pretty low-key and quite cerebral. Plus, it also put Hollywood sci-fi in a Hong Kong setting, so the flavor is quite different. In fact, the third team fighting for the drug is a scary Chinese Mafia-type, and the image that makes a lasting impact is that of the Chinese Bleeder brothers doing their thing.
Evans is obviously well on his way to becoming a big star. Belle is pretty much in her dark, gothic element. Fanning, on the other hand, crosses the bridge from “child star” to “young actress” excellently. Her character is 13 years old, but one who is in Hong Kong all on her own and has a huge responsibility on her shoulders. Considering her history, you’d expect her to portray yet another perceptive child genius, but she does normal, albeit super-psychic, strikingly well. I still foresee a bright career for this kid. And I’d push producers to make a sequel of this film.
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