I honestly can't remember the first movie that I ever laid my eyes on.
Movies have been central in my life.
Sunday afternoons, 4pm, to be exact were when my brother, my mom, and my dad, and of course myself would go witness some one else's life be explained or even exploited on screen.
The days of having to pack our snacks (Hersey bars and apple juice) into my mom's purse. Making sure that it wasn't obvious that we were sneaking food in, bc the concession stand was way to expensive.
The days of being way to short that I had to sit on the theater chair folded up so, I too, could see who was saying what and whom they were saying it to.
It was good etiquette to never speak while the trailers were on. Because, it was sort of a minnie movie that you saw for a minute and twenty two seconds. And the excitement you felt when you couldn't wait to see it next summer.
Those were the days.
I grew up and my taste in films changed. I went from ducking in to see cult classics like Clueless, to watching Citizen Cane in all it's glory.
I evolved into a no holds bar type of gal.
I love movies, and the film "The Fall", reminds me why I've had such a long love affair with them in the first place.
Imagine seeing the best piece of artwork. Then imagine the emotion you feel, for being so honored to have witnessed it.
Then lastly, imagine those who've never seen it before.
That was me last night, in my bed, crying at how magically sound this movie had been.
The Fall, directed by Tarsem Singh, left me speechless. I was a complete mute while the story unfolded. No commentary, no gasps, no nothing. I couldn't speak.
The movie tells a story of a stuntman who performs a stunt that goes terribly wrong, and leaves him bedridden in a hospital. A young percious little girl, while in the hospital for her own dangerous "stunt" befriends the stuntman and he begins to tell her a glorious fictious saga. The story comes at a price, though. All that he askes in return while he methodically jogs up the next chapter, is that she get him some "M-O-R-P-H-I-N-3". A very Quid Pro Quo relationship these two have. And as time progresses and the story lengthens, fiction runs into fact and fact overlaps the fiction of the stuntman's story.
The Fall plays well with a child's imagination somewhat being ruined by the adult's personal agony and anguish.
The appeal comes from not only the visual encounters you meet along the way, but the comradery that the child and adult gain together on this journey.
I feel like I got my mojo back or something. Or maybe I'm just a hormonally raging bitch right now. Either one is great though.
Any who, I'm on Facebook checking my friend's status and wonder to myself, when you enter your's, do you feel it necessary to tell us every waking moment of what ur day, afternoon, evening, night, and or REM sleep is like.
I mean, why do I need to know...
"Shanwta is having a pretty awesome day, had lunch with my dying grandmother, then went to bodega to pick up some now-laters, have a paper to write on Barack Obama's first 100 days and how Michelle Obama has saved the fashion industry, later tonight getting drinks with the co-workers, got a little explosive diarrhea and drunk dialed my boss demanding a raise, oh yeah, good nite my fellow facebookers"
WTF. I thought status updates were suppose to be quick blurbs on something insightful that you've experienced. Simple, short and sweet is the method of choice.
It just pains me when I can locate you on Google maps and know who your OBGYN is and what time you're getting checked for your pap-smear.
Nothing eventful except, I finally got the non bootleg version of Twilight. Loves it!!!!!!
Seeing that I've watched my bootleg well over 20 times it just isn't the same.
You know the rush of overwhelming excitement one feels when they finally get a movie that they loved on the screen and now is you get to love it even more in your bedroom. To watch over and over and over again.
Yeah, that feeling. It just doesn't exist.
However the DVD extras were great.
Moving on to another movie that I picked up was "The Fountain".
It stars none other than Hugh Jackman and Rachel Weisz, in a beautiful avant garde film. It shows the depths of love across continents and across time.
Weisz plays Izzy, who is terminally ill with a brain tumor and her "conquistador" husband played by Jackman is a physician trying to buy more time to save her from death.
The story takes on the topics of life and death and the completion and acceptance of it.
It covers both subjects beautifully and visually entraps you to the very last scene.
OK, so the movie Sunshine, directed by Danny Boyle (Slumdog Millionaire), has been on the illest rotation in the DVD player.
Why you ask? Well, it's one of the few sci-movies that I can watch over and over again.
The ending sure as hell hasn't changed, but you see something that you've never noticed before.
Sunshine is a quiet moving film. It's what I've dubbed "Fatigue Film". Movies that have a crazy plot, and even when it meets it's climax, it's still not seeping of climatic abundance, but that doesn't mean it's not good or an ultimate let down.
It's just a movie that took this particular pace for the viewer to truly understand the plot in regards to the characters.
And that makes it even more interesting.
Sci-fi flicks are synonymous for fatiguing the viewer much like they fatigue the character in the movie. Therefore leaving you with emotions that the people in the flick have.
Alien Sphere Blade Runner...and many more. But peep these first.
Yesterday I had the bright idea to watch Alice in Wonderland.
What took place was beyond me. I was doped up on pain medication for the craziest migraine that I've ever had.
Let's just say I would take a sore throat over a migraine any day. They're just that bad.
So, Alice and my personal dope brigade were both whirling around in my head and I felt like I was stuck in the movie with the Mad Hatter and $hit, except the tea party wasn't eventful. But I kept following the White Rabbit. He lead me to some strange places...
One being, the Queen's palace, though, she wasn't in the mood to cut off my head.