Film Appreciation: Zombie-fy Me

Is the George Lucas Syndrome contagious?
What, haven’t heard of it?
It is our absolute need to feed our mind with endless garbage, with images of Jar-Jar Binks and green little thingies that do absolutely nothing to our existence except, perhaps, make us realize that we are riding our very own Death Star (which is kind of cool, until we realize that the Star thing is just an illusion; Death isn’t).
Yeah… well, I’m talking about the fact that movies that fans throng to are mostly SFX extravaganzas so ostentatious, a single scene has as many extraneous characters as there are aliens in Tattooine. Not convinced? Think LOTR 2 and 3. The Harry Potters. The Phantom (GAG!) Menance. Pirates of the Caribbean 3. They are the Top-Grossing Movies of all time.
Talk about the ultimate nerd-dom wet dream.

But it’s not just the nerds. They can only buy so much pop corn and freebie light sabers. It’s the rest of us, trekking to movies that offer a little more than an exercise in testing how much aliens, pirates and homoerotic hobbits we can take.
Now, that kind of makes me think about what kind of movie-going public we have become that we would rather see such cinematic lobotomies as Star Wars and shun pensive, thoughtful, politically-charged movies like Syriana. We would rather see a Gungan with the most annoying accent this side of Naboo than challenge our minds about a enlightening film on non-existent WMDs.
What gives? Have we become so insulated, we would rather be entertained than watch a film that could challenge us intellectually? While corporations all over are busting unions and hawkish leaders are waging wars on imagined evils, would we rather be entertained by our movies rather than be roused politically?

People argue that we watch the movies in order to be entertained.
Fine, I have nothing against entertainment. I believe that one of the primary purposes of a movie should be to entertain us. In fact, one of the movies I’ve watched that I thoroughly enjoyed was The Incredible Hulk, which kind of hits low cerebrally but which is smashingly entertaining nonetheless (bad pun right there).
But a good movie should also be able to move us. A good movie is not just about special effects, good acting, good story-telling. A good movie should not insult our intelligence, pretend to be entertaining, then lull us all to sleep.
That’s just plain highway robbery.

Note:  Photos courtesy of IMDB

Suicide Girls

Jennifer Love Hewitt in all her cellulite glory. Dear Charlize literally turning the other cheek riddled with pock marks. Jennifer Garner looking like a very pale Skeletor.
Snap a picture of a celebrity sans the tons of foundation and concealer, and for sure ordinary people would lap it up (the picture, not the celebrity). Suddenly, La Lohan just doesn’t look so stellar, just some ordinary teener with too much money, drinking booze to perhaps forget the fact that she has once again forgotten to wear her underwear.
But, no. People are not just flogging the Pantyless Ones – audiences are also picking on real talents like America Ferrera for – of all things – her weight. It seems that for every Kate Winslet flashing a big middle finger against the anorexic standards of Hollywood, three Nicole Richies are tapping their gag reflexes, flashing a bony middle finger back at the plus-sized beauties.
The Jekyll-and-Hyde treatment of the ’biz has sent confusing signals to young women everywhere. While there is no doubt that Jordin Sparks is just plain gorgeous, fans of the Paris Hilton persuasion are poking fun at the AI alum, with one guy calling her “beefalo”, whatever the moron meant.
The fascination for Size Zero celebrities has set an impossible standard for impressionable teen-agers who, most unfortunately, look up at stars that they often see on the most visible media: TV and trashy magazines. So we have Nicole, Brit, Ashley, and Paris. (Never have any sympathies for them – come on – how can stars with no discernable talent earn more than me?!??! And they shave their heads and throw up to show people how disturbed they are, how they couldn’t handle fame that early – blah-blah. Give me your money, honey, and I can easily achieve world peace!).
None of these stars weigh 100 pounds. (And, may I add, none of them has been known to wear any underwear, either, but that’s digressing already.)
Is it a surprise then, that eating disorders are on the rise among young girls?
Is it a surprise, then, that teen-agers are now seeing their own parents’ shrinks?
Is it a surprise, then, that liposuction clients are getting a hell lot younger.
The new breed of Suicide Girls.
Now, Hollywood is definitely going to hell.

If I Were a Mutant (or the Top 7 Mutant Powers I Wish I Had)

“Who is your favorite superhero?”
I remember that growing up, the question has often inspired black-eyes and threats in the playground. “My superhero is Batman. He has a cool cape and his sidekick is kinda cute.”
“Superman will kick Batman’s ass!”
“Not if Batman has Kryptonite!”
“Wonder Woman will kick everyone’s ass…”
“She is an ass! What’s the point of riding an invisible jet when everyone can see you!”
“And what’s the point of wearing briefs that everyone can see!”
A scuffle would ensue, along with (not-so-serious) threats of blacklisting somebody from your birthday party. But that was when I was in elementary, where DC reigned supreme and even that hero who can talk to fishes was invariably hotter than the Webbed One.
Things changed when I was in high school. Thanks to prime-time cartoons, I was suddenly thrust into a sub-culture where teen-aged boys were jerking off to Rogue (the tacit implication that there is still a hot virgin somewhere in the US is just too much for any pubescent perv) and Jean Grey, while girls were keeping pictures of Scott Summers right there besides Donnie Wahlberg and the stars in Teen Beat.
As an adult, I have had more sympathies with Marvel Superheroes than with DC ones. I don’t know, but there is just something about a guy shooting something white and sticky at the sight of a gorgeous girl that makes the travails of Spidey and Stan Lee’s minions more grounded. How could you not cheer for a guy who has real worries like rent and paying the bills while he’s on the prowl looking for bad guys? I mean, as a working middle class, I hardly have time to sympathize with a billionaire playboy, given the problems of the wealthy in my country invariably would involve how to spend the money that the toiling masses have earned for them. Sorry Bruce Wayne, but you and your ilk just represent capitalism at its worst.
Anyhoo… it goes without saying that the Superheroes and Villains of Marvel have always fascinated me, especially the mutants. And this is what this article is all about. I’m compiling now a list of mutant powers that I would like to have, and the things that I would do if I have them.
(Note: The Dark Phoenix is NOT on the list… she has proven that uncontrolled powers can lead to the demise of billions of people -- now that would put me on the government’s wanted list and, and really, what’s the use of that much power when it starts to control you?)
7. Mystique. I’m going by the Mystique of the comics, not the movie. In the comics, I can’t remember her as being particularly limber, but she was certainly as hot as Rebecca “Don’t Call me Stamos” Romijn. Plus, she’s more than a hundred years old, according to mythos (hey – get me the water that she drinks – fast!). If I were Mystique, I would not get around naked – for Chrissakes! What’s my shape-shifting powers for? I might probably be tempted to rob a bank (assume the form of the President of said bank, kill President, then run off with the money while constantly changing forms– and the police will have a band of very confused witnesses in their hands). Ultimately, though, I might assume the form of the President, steal back the millions she had stolen from the Filipino people, get rid of the Cabinet (First, Secretary Gonzales, then Secretary Reyes), then resign as President. That would save people a lot of grief.
6. The Scarlet Witch. Okay… so she has the ability to alter reality. Imagine what one can do with such powers! The only thing is, the Scarlet Witch sometimes has no control of her powers – in fact Professor X has to shut her mind down at some point to prevent her from doing anymore damage. If I were the Scarlet Witch, I would concentrate hard so that Osama Bin-Laden would finally be captured, and President Bush NEVER became president. I can also resurrect Heath Ledger (but that’s just a small fantasy -- *sigh*) so that Hollywood becomes a much better place, at least artistically.
5. Quicksilver. Superhuman speed. Hah! I can easily escape from my pursuers. Having superhuman speed can really be useful, especially when you are stuck in traffic. But I placed this above The Scarlet Witch’s powers because Quicksilver’s powers are very manageable. I can finish a lot of tasks all at once, because Quicksilver can think as fast as he can move. I can also jump to the future if I want to (one of Quicksilver’s listed powers) and since I travel at supersonic speeds, I can travel over oceans, no problem. That also saves a lot of gas, if you think about it.
4. Storm. The Weather Witch. If I can control the weather, I can go to Africa and create tropical rainstorms to render the earth fertile so the famine in that part of the world will be alleviated. I can also reverse climate changes, go to Antartica and make the weather colder by several degrees to prevent the melting of the ice caps and possibly even prevent floods. Then, make my tropical country experience snow every now and then, so people will not have to migrate because of the sweltering heat. And zap really annoying people with lightning. Plus, I don’t need contact lenses to change eye color.
3. Wolverine. Hmmm… apart from the fact that Hugh Jackman looks extra-hot as Wolverine? Imagine what it would be like to be free from diseases, and your system practically immune to all kinds of toxins. With self-healing powers, I would virtually be indestructible, like adamantium. I could easily earn by posing as a model for beautiful skin (NO SCARS) and anti-ageing creams. Okay… I’ll not include the adamantium part, because it was artificially grafted into his skeleton. Besides, it had been stripped by the next mutant on the list.
2. Magneto. Much of the known weapons are made from metal, so having Magneto’s powers pretty much places off most risky scenarios. Opponent is some para-military man doubling as an armed goon? Fine. Use your powers. A knife fight? *Yawn* Disarm him, and quick. Really, I can face down an armed army and come off unscathed. Of course, I don’t have to do anything as flashy as tearing down a bridge so I can travel with style. I can just tear down a vault in some Swiss bank and finally distribute Marcos’ money to those who deserve it before the government can lay its sticky paws on it (if it hasn’t yet).
1. Professor X. Ah… the ultimate. Ethics step back. I can control people’s minds, figure out what they are thinking. And expose them as frauds if I want to. I can make the President resign. I can make the despots step down and self-destruct. I can make President Bush recite nursery rhymes until his unenlightened constituents can finally decide that he can’t lead the country, much less a corporation. The possibilities are mindblowing, really. I can be the walking Lacuna, Inc., erasing memories from people who do not want to remember certain things in the past. Wow. I can make millions as a shrink that way. I can even make Secretary Reyes forget that he is the Energy Secretary (although, with the way he is performing now, I don’t think that would be necessary).
Runner-ups: Jean Grey. Gambit (making objects explode… cool – who needs Tyler Durden when you have Gambit?). And Spider-Man. Okay, he’s not a mutant, but his powers are at par with the rest of them. Hehehe…

Lobo-tomized ABS-CBN

Is it safe to assume that network giant ABS-CBN has run out of creative ideas? If so, they better hire a new creative team pronto.
They’re not just ripping off successful gimmicks of the competition, they are also ripping off not-so-popular, straight-to-video movies that at least four persons have seen.
I’m talking about Lobo, the insanely successful tele-series about a hot white she-wolf (played by Angel Locsin). What little I have seen convinced me that it was ripped off from an obscure film titled Blood and Chocolate. It also tells a story about hot white she-wolf and her attraction to a human hottie (cue Piolo’s role here). In the end, she was forced to decide between her community of wolves (led by dark wolf Olivier Martinez) and the human got in the way.
My doubts were confirmed by a cousin, a pirated DVD nut, who also saw the obscure film (which was packaged as one of those “in-ones” things – 10-in-1, 20-in-1). She has her copy of Blood and Chocolate in a six-in-one DVD package (meaning, six movies in one DVD).
“There are scenes that are straight from the movie,” she said in disgust.
What’s next, an orphaned boy wizard with a lightning bolt scar? Or, to skirt some copyright infringement cases that might follow, a coming of age story about a girl who discovered her lupine qualities on the onset of puberty when she was savagely attacked by a wolf (ala Ginger Snaps).
Or maybe a story about the murderous kama-kama (dwarf) possessively guarding his horde of gold.
Really, I never thought I’d see the day that we would be borrowing myths from the West. Maybe, people are just tired of good ol’ siokoy and tikbalang, so we have to borrow mythical creatures from other countries.
Nessie, anyone?

TOP FIVE ACTORS WHO OUGHT TO RETIRE

5. Al Pacino. Dear Al. Acting with Keanu Reeves must have trautamized him – and hard. Really, how could you explain his career choices for the past 10 years? Quick, give me one, just one effing movie that he starred in where he is not channeling a crack addict from Hell’s Kitchen. I understand actors have to pay the bills, but Gigli? 88 minutes? The last decent film he had was Carlito’s Way, and that was when the dinosaurs walked the earth. And really, how many people have watched 88 Minutes – a movie so bad, studio execs immediately shoved it under 50-cent bins in video stores. As a fan, it was painful watching Pacino unravel right before your eyes. He looks like my grandfather who doesn’t know where his pee bottle is, and he absolutely needs to go. He looks lost, as though taking directions from cue cards that his director left behind, so he doesn’t know where the heck he was supposed to go. Or maybe it’s because he just realized he is, again, in a bad film and he was utterly bewildered where his once brilliant career was going.
4. Ben Affleck. He peaked too early in his career. His last box-office hit was Pearl Harbor, and he was horrible in it. And then, the movies nobody came to watch. Paris Hilton’s Chihuahua, Tinkerbell, has more online searches. The only way his handlers can ensure that the public won’t forget about him was to get his pic and his entangled love story with Supreme Skank J.Lo in all the trashy papers, right there beside Mary Kate Olsen’s anorexia and La Lohan’s boob job. *Sigh* He better get some serious advice from Matt. But then, Matt has talent talent, and Ben has… Jennifer Garner.
3. Robin Williams. His filmography is, I have to admit, evenly distributed. He started as a wacky funnyman, and the audience was willing to dismiss his misses (Flubber) and concentrate on what he does best (ad libs – his Genie is the best sidekick this side of the animated universe – yup, even above Donkey). Then, he branched off nicely enough into drama and thriller, showing that he’s not afraid of being cast against type. And all of his efforts are crushed under the weight of RV. Time to sign those retirement papers, Mr Williams.
2. Justine Timberlake. C’mon. He should have taken his cue from Britney. These singers should stick to what they do best. Nobody can be J.Lo (sing shitty, profitable songs and star in equally shitty, profitable movies). Stick to singing Justine, and leave the acting to veterans like… Madonna. And this brings us to…
1. Tom Cruise. Okay. His last five movies raked in mega-millions in the box office. But for the sake of humanity, he should retire. He is Scientology’s worst enemy. People who have second thoughts about the sanity of Scientology members would simply look at Mr Cruise to erase all doubts. People with that kind of mental soundness shouldn’t be making any more movies. They should find themselves a nice retirement home and private nurse. And that's me being kind.

A lesson in Spartan history

I must brush up on me Spartan history.
Watching HBO while nursing a beer, I learned the following history lessons while watching 300:
* Spartans, as a rule, scream. It doesn't matter whether they are discussing strategy, giving orders, or making sure that the snoozing enemy won't wake up -- they have to bust their lungs to get their message across. The better to show 'em who's the Alpha Male, eh? Or is that just a case of hammy acting?
* Spartans have leather hides. They fight naked, with nothing but a cape to protect them from the elements and the enemy's thrusts. All the better to show them those abs, huh?
* Spartans invented the tag team -- thereby introducing the very first love teams.
* Spartan men cry.
* All films on Sparta suck.
'Nuff said.

WahahahhahahAAAAA!

Speaking of which, I was laughing with maniacal glee the other night. I was watching House of Wax, that atrocious film with atrocious acting (complete with the requisite black guy who, you know, would get killed first, because that's how the rules in the perverted horror universe works), skanks who can't afford a decent shirt to cover them all up, and Jared Padalecki. Somebody should have warned him that his skills against the supernatural forces won't work with twisted, faceless, lost mama's boys.
The best thing was that mid-way through the film, Paris Hilton was killed! WAHAHHAHAHHAHA! It was a dream come true for me, watching the bitch getting the most ridiculous death in cinematic history.
Still keeping my fingers crossed the real person would meet the same fate. And then I'd celebrate! WahahhaHHAHAHA!

Paris Hilton Phone

Brother got himself a new cellphone, christened it Paris Hilton. When asked, he said it looks flashy, but it doesn't do anything else except suck. And it has a rather small memory. It doesn't do anything else except send and receive messages. I want to ask him if it says "That's hot," but decided not to.
Still betting that Paris Hilton the phone is a lot smarter than the real deal, though.

Suicidal?

Heard from a friend that the cousin of a cousin twice removed has a friend with a neighbor (yeah, yeah... you know how convoluted grapevines are) who committed suicide after hearing the song Beautiful Girls. You know, that vapid song with the (repeated lyrics) "You got me suicidal, suicidal when you say it's over..."
Apparently, the poor kid was into something when he killed himself. Really, how big a brain do you have when a rather innocuous song about a village flirt can drive you nuts enough to kill yourself?
"What is the world coming to?" my friend, who was separated by at least four degrees from the kid, moaned. She was, like everyone else, blaming Sean Kingston for the pointless death of the poor kid.
Yeah. My heart breaks for the moron.
Talk about accountability. Or the lack of it. Blame pop culture for every single f*ck-up that has happened in some random kid's life. Blame an inane song for a suicide. Now, don't get me wrong. I have far less sympathies for the purveyors of pop, consumerist culture that have now turned everybody into zombies (Darn... George Romero is a visionary!), mindless drones that would make the Cher character in Clueless sound like Kafka. I do blame pop culture for the insidious ways it has employed to corrupt the minds of impressionable children.
But then again, we have a choice. Fight the system or be part of the herd.
Your choice.
I've made mine.
And no amount of Rihanna songs can convince me to put a shotgun in the head just because some beautiful boy says it's over.