Monthly Archive
Browsing entries posted on June 2006
Eat my dust!
I went to watch ‘Cars’ today in the cinema, and my opinion, in short, is ‘Go see it’. Pixar films are generally reliable, but just in case you wanted another opinion…
I saw the teaser trailer on apple.com/quicktime a long time ago, and wasn’t really taken by the idea of anthropomorphized cars. Look, fish were fine. Superheroes - that was cool. But cars, coming after tons of talking, living-like-humans animals, just didn’t provide anything different. So I wasn’t exactly very excited about watching this movie, but there weren’t any other good films - unless I wanted to watch ‘The Benchwarmers’ or ‘Tokyo Drift’ (more cars???!!!).
Well, I stand corrected. It was worth the full ticket price of 10 ringgit, I thoroughly enjoyed it and I think everyone from the age of 3 to 13 will like it. The over-13s might like the cars, and the over-18s will probably just like the little touches and inside jokes that you can pick up if you’re attentive and knowledgeable enough.
On the surface, it looks like it’s just about this vroomy little red racer that needs to learn some things about being nice, but there’s a secondary thread running through the story, just as Route 66 runs through the western half of the United States mainland. I only know about Route 66 because I know that there’s a song going by that title, and I only know of that song because the Eusoff Hall band once performed it. Yes, very tenuous.
So anyway, the story intrigued me and I did some research and then I realised some of the little inside jokes that the movie’s creators put into the show. You can watch the movie without getting the jokes, because it’s supposed to have cross-cultural appeal, but I always like getting the inside jokes.
I don’t suppose there are still many people who haven’t seen that, but law of spoilers applies. Trailers and official website - oh come on, just Google it - ok, here you go. I like playing with official websites of movies, but most of the time the trailer seals the deal for me. Oh, and a word to the very sentimental - like most Disney movies, this one will bring a tear to your eye. Just one. It’s not a sobfest.
Why I love ‘The O.C.’
‘The O.C.’, for the uninitiated, must be referred to in quotes, since The O.C. without quotes refers to an area in California famed for its surfing beaches. Known in common parlance as Orange County (and guess what, there’s also a movie entitled ‘Orange County’), ‘The O.C.’ is a hit teen drama based in Newport Beach, which I know is a real place because I saw it on a map featured in ‘Arrested Development’ (I think I watch too much TV).
‘The O.C.’ features a main cast of maybe half a dozen, with many supporting actors, but they are easily categorized according to their roles.
The Bad Boy: Ryan Atwood, played by Benjamin McKenzie, apparently looks like a young Russell Crowe. Whatev! The show revolves around him and his life in Newport after he is picked up off the streets by his lawyer, Sandy Cohen. Who is obviously Jewish, duh! Just look at the name!
The Geek: Seth Cohen, played by Adam Brody, is the lawyer’s only child, so like, Ryan becomes sort of his cool brother. We KNOW that the Cohens are Jewish cos Seth has to read the Talmud. See, like, I’m not a total bimbo.
The Girl: There’s always a girl. It’s like the golden rule of teen dramas. Ms Ever-So-Perfect, aka Marissa Cooper played by Mischa Barton, she’s blonde, skinny, and the girlfriend of the school’s water polo captain. Omigosh! Like, they actually go to normal school, and not some exclusive prep school? I dunno. I’ve only watched up to Episode 6 so far, right before they start school. And because everyone hates perfection in others, Ms Ever-So-Perfect actually has a totally lousy home life, boyfriend problems (an overabundance of males, natch), and I wouldn’t be surprised if she was anorexic due to an overcontrolling mum, but she has mental health issues of a different kind. And guess who falls for her, and whom she falls for. I’m not telling you if you don’t already know.
The Bimbo: Everyone knows geeks and bimbos, like, totally go together. That’s why they have that reality show, ‘Beauty and the Geek’, right? And that’s why you always see sexy babes at IT fairs, right? Right? Anyway, the Bimbo is Summer Roberts played by Rachel Bilson, and get this. Not only are Seth and Summer an onscreen item (oops, spoiler) but Adam Brody and Rachel are totally engaged in real life! How sweet is that! Anyway, Summer is Marissa’s best friend, and that’s pretty much all she’s good for, since she treats poor Seth like a snotrag at first. She can’t remember his name (Stan? Sid?) and is only nice to him to get an invite to his family’s party so that she can make him introduce her to all the rich investment banker dudes. Ew! She is like the ultimate gold-digger for the information age. Only the chance of hooking up with a moneyed banker would convince her to read Forbes. She’s a flirt, a tease and has a habit of calling people by their surname. The ultimate Valley Girl stereotype.
The Parents: If your parents picked up a juvey delinquent and put him up in your house, you might have a fit, no? Well, just as well your parents aren’t Sandy and Kirsten Cohen. Played by Peter Gallagher and Kelly Rowan, they are pretty cool parents. Sandy goes surfing when he’s not rescuing teenagers from a life behind bars, and Kirsten has a contentious relationship with Newport’s richest man, who just happens to be her dad and employer. Not totally screwy, after all they have a house with a view to die for, they aren’t divorced and they aren’t bankrupt, which is more than can be said for Marissa’s parents. Jimmy and Julie Cooper are sadly no more, and it gets even screwier from here cos Julie ends up dating Caleb, aka Richest Man in Town aka her neighbour Kirsten’s dad. Like, total ew! And you thought the young ‘uns were bad.
The Boyfriend: Ah, yes. The Paris to our bad-boy Romeo and his Juliet. His name is Luke Ward, he has blonde hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders, and about as much personality as breakfast cereal. Which doesn’t mean none, it just means he’s ubiquitous and you can’t tell one from the other. His body looks like any male torso from the Abercrombie and Fitch catalogue (indeed he is derided as being an ‘Abercrombie & Fitch-wearing bitch’) and his face belongs to him, obviously, but good luck finding him in a crowd of similar beach hunks. Somehow he takes a bullet to the arm, but it might as well have gone through his head (said Seth, not me) because he has a total turnaround in behaviour. Suddenly he’s nice to the Geek and the Bad Boy, and then, improbably, he ends up banging Julie Cooper, aka Marissa Cooper’s mum aka his girlfriend’s mum. That-totally-brings-up-the-ew-factor-by-10. Now, I have to say ‘banging’ and not ‘dating’ because remember, Julie is dating Old Man Caleb.
See? It’s so horrendously convoluted and twisted and it’s even worse because all this sex, drugs and betrayal happens under the respectable veneer of beachfront mansions, BMWs and professional careers. Yes, you’re right. It’s exactly like ‘Beverly Hills 90210′, THE teen drama of the 90s. And no surprise, I loved that too. It’s not just the money. I think pretty much everyone wonders how the rich live, what their houses look like, what their kids wear, and that’s one of the reasons for the show’s popularity. But it’s the writing that keeps people coming back. Punchlines are sharp and snappy. The acting is real (which is more than can be said for certain local dramas) and yes, I will concede that the twists are seriously over-the-top. But my dear, the rich don’t live like you or I do.
The nuances of teenage interaction are difficult to capture, but there they are. As real as anything any adolescent can dream up, although our backseats may be Hondas instead of Range Rovers, and we skip classes instead of sneaking out to beach parties. As unreal as their privileged lives may be, the love triangles, unrequited affections and social manoeuvring stay the same, even translated halfway around the world.
Not like Samson
On the 30th of May, my sister and I traipsed down to MidValley Megamall (aka MidValley) to go shopping, cut my hair, buy jeans, and get out of the house before we turn into giant tubs of lard.
First off, I went to A Cut Above to, well, cut my hair. Pictures after the jump so that I don’t mess up the layout of the page.
While I was getting my hair washed (they do it at your chair), the shampoo girl started chatting with me. “You working?” “Where you studying?” “Oh, Singapore’s so clean, isn’t it nice living there?” “Are the clubs good?” and the clincher: “Is this itchy (ticklish)? No? Ok, then I’ll massage your scalp ok?”
Like a surgeon coming in only for the big event, my stylist Davis showed up and started to recap my previous visit. I told him how much to cut off, he thought he got it, I showed him a picture just to make sure we were talking about the same look, and then he got to work. The salon wasn’t busy at all so the counter staff were standing there idly watching the transformation. No shiatt, that’s what they billed me for. RM 110 for a “transformation”.
After he chopped off a significant amount of my hair, Davis and the shampoo girl each took up a hairdryer and turned my wiry hair into a sleek bob. Then he set about again with a pair of thinning scissors to bring out the layers. I didn’t want to take any pictures, because firstly, you do not disturb an artist while he’s working on a masterpiece. And also because I didn’t want him making any mistakes. It’s just hair, it grows back, but it sure as hell takes a long time to do so.
After he blew the bits of hair off my head with the cool setting of the hairdryer, Davis spread something (wax? clay? gel?) on his palms and proceeded to give me the ‘Japanese rock star’ look. It didn’t look particularly wild, but I hardly need to look like someone who has undergone a very large shock.
I’ve had a few days with this look, and run the gauntlet of relatives wishing to pass comment on my lack of keratinous growth. One aunt asked me why I was willing to do so, or in Cantonese, “lei kung seh tak?” meaning “you had the heart?” Well, why not? It’s just hair, after all. I’ve had so much of it for so long, and struggled with the tangles and the inconvenience that right now I’m just enjoying the lightness of being short-haired.
Do I have any regrets? Just one. I wanted to donate my hair to Locks of Love, a charity that collects hair to make wigs for kids with cancer. Unfortunately, they have a 10-inch rule on ponytails, and my hair wasn’t quite that long. Also, it’s of quite rubbish quality - dyed and dry, so even if they were to sell it, they wouldn’t have got much for it.
But for all of that, I’m quite happy with the new look. It’s light and airy and a breeze to wash. Syok. And yes, I still do comb my hair. Continue Reading…
Day 8 - Flying with the Tiger
We stumbled out of bed at 5.30 am, and watched the sun rise at 6.00 am. We were waiting for our toast to pop out of the toaster when the taxi to the airport arrived, so we had to abandon our breakfast. The taxi driver was the same man who drove us from the airport to the resort, so there was no worry of there being duplicate bookings because we essentially booked twice, once when we arrived and once through the phone.
When we arrived at the airport, there was already a long queue at the counter. Full flight of 180 people and 2 counters to serve them. We got to the boarding gate exactly 30 minutes before departure, and soon after that the gate opened. It was a civilized boarding, no crazy rushes, but we were near the end of the queue so we walked quite far along the plane until we found a window seat with the whole row empty.
It was a pleasant view out the window, cloudless sky allowing me a look at the islands and clear blue sea we were leaving behind. A baby cried throughout the flight, the boyfriend slept, and I looked at the little towns and plantations underneath me. Soon the HDB flats came into view, their white heights obvious against the flatness of the airport and of Singapore in general.
Duty-free didn’t interest us, although there was a queue at the liquor shop. It was a very long MRT ride to Harbourfront, where we got to our stored items so we could retrieve our laptops. I had to repack my Big Pinky, throwing out much of my clothing to make way for the things I brought back from Krabi. I always dislike packing to go home.
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