staying.cool

having watched this, the question that i came up with is: what would you do if you discovered you were 14000 years old?

[87 mins of sheer movie-enjoyment. to be taken with a huge dollop of imagination and open-mindedness. please.]

more later.

i’ve always dreamed of making movies.

not acting, not composing.. actually making them. i’ve imagined placing the camera at that corner, and have it pan across the scene as it happens in my life. i have played out endless chase sequences, millions of scares and too many fight scenes to count. with very distinctive and yet realistic sound effects. there have been times i have wondered what life would be like were i star of my own truman show. there have been other times i have wanted to recreate a car chase down to the smallest detail.

but i don’t have the money.

it never stopped me thinking about them though. my sequences were grandiose, my scenes were spectacular. any battle of my gi joes with the evil forces of evil never ended on a tame note of the leader being knocked over. no, there were long drawn out battles… with many mini-battles happening within them. the evil overlord took a lot of killing though. there were never enough bullets or missiles to do it. it took a couple of hundred explosions to get parents riled up about all the sound that was being made though.

i have formed ideas for movies, formed trailers, formed whole acting careers about these movies. the genius that lay in every one of them had to be seen to be believed. no-one ever saw. i gave voice-overs, i acted, i directed.

i have a list of movies to watch that never seems to diminish. it doesn’t take a lot to get on the list, just the fact that the movie might exist has sent me on insane hunting sprees. i indulge it, it is a mania that i enjoy. the movies always deliver. there is the final takedown sequence in ‘the dark knight’, the final attack of the lions in the ‘ghosts in the darkness’, the velociraptor in the kitchen of ‘jurassic park’, the horse race in ‘ben hur’, the war from the ‘lord of the rings’… the list goes on.

which is why when i watch 2 guys start with a camera, some duct tape and some streamers and end up with ‘ghost busters’…. it means a lot. thinking up the angle of the camera so that you can shoot a pianist playing his final song… blowing up a mini-city to simulate king kong — it doesn’t matter.

its all possible.

as the movie closes to a captive audience watching a projection on a screen.. applauding every dialogue, believing everything they see.. it shows you the magic.

the magic the movies have always had. and always will.

From Be Kind, Rewind.

–
The Las Vegas flights are known for the unavailability to book flights at the last minute. Most of the airline’s tardinesses makes it possible for one to get seats on Orlando flights and even the flights to London.

get the joke?

Must. watch. again. and again. and again.

watching a little boy dip, swim and dive on the back of a water-horse in the waters of the scottish lochs strikes a chord deep within. how many times have i wished that i would find a magical creature, and raise it ? when you watch e.t., you barely wonder if its possible to harbor an alien in the house. you dismiss the possibility that such a creature may exist, and may actually give you magical powers.

that such a creature may be extremely untenable to take care of be hanged, just having one around reminds us of the many truly magical things we explain everyday. how often have we notices the flashing fireflies in the twilight, putting in specks of light that remind you of the set-up sebastian makes in the little mermaid. we keep moving, not noticing the final rays of the sun illuminating water in the distance.

suddenly its no longer about whether the magic truly exists, but about whether you want it to exist. we cannot wait for secrets to be revealed, we need to necessarily ensure that eyes can play tricks on us. will it take a monster rising out of the loch to make us realize the truth that stands in front of us all the time ?

the only way to make the world a better place for those who truly matter is to look at it as a kid. for the kid, the toys in his room can come alive at night, and a rat can make the worlds’ best chef. for the rest of us, its about the beauty of animation. maybe water-horses don’t exist, maybe cupboards don’t open out into new lands, maybe the ministry of magic doesn’t have an office anywhere at all, maybe people don’t get bitten by radioactive spiders, maybe a ring never had to be destroyed lest it take over the world. maybe.

but that doesn’t mean that they can’t exist. or that they won’t exist in the place they were always meant to be found.

in a child’s eyes.

Due to The Water Horse

–
There are not many fun travel deals to choose from. Although there are a few hotels offering special packages for children, many cheap flights don’t. The flights issue is quite severe. The car rental has no such problems though.

against popular recommendations, i’ve watched both tashan and the indy movie. the urge is deep to make possible ‘the tashan of indy jones’, but i think i will limit myself to simple lessons from these movies.

1. it is possible to survive a nuclear bomb by simply sitting in a lead-lined refrigerator, even if (a) said fridge is in the heart of the nuclear explosion, (b) you walk out of the explosion moments after it happens, just in time for the mushroom cloud and the actual nuclear fallout.
2. cars, boats and other sundry vehicles can easily survive falls from cliffs and waterfalls. more interestingly, all passengers have nary a scratch.
3. guns being fired by the enemy at heroes have no effect. even if it is at point blank range. the same gun, when fired by the ‘heroes’ will decimate enemies that are not even in range.
4. in general, guns lie around wasted, and only visible to heroes. enemies are constantly broad-sided by this tactic.
5. swinging on jungle vines, driving half-broken jeeps in the middle of the jungle is simple. in fact, most of the time there is no need to look where you’re going - you’re not going to crash/fall/die.
6. jumping in any direction is usually in the range well beyond normal olympic athletes.
7. its possible to use a waterski in 2 feet of water, jump it out of the water within 5 feet, do a double flip over a bridge 10 feet high within said jump, and land safely on the other side. similar things can be done with jeeps and trucks.
8. women, in general, have beatific smiles on their faces, and/or perfectly fitting clothes at all times. no matter whether you’re in a wedding, in the middle of a gunfight, or going over a waterfall.
9. in any sudden unexpected destruction ensuing, no matter what the cause, the heroes never even get touched. all villains in the area, however, come running to their doom.
10. supposed revelations about characters are usually made obvious in scene 2 of the movie. however, characters need everything spelled out for them, which usually takes up most of the inane movie. similarly songs are inserted, and irrelevant logic ensues as it is explained.

i must stop. i must write ‘the tashan of indy jones’. you’ve been warned.

i must also admit that indiana jones is something that you love, even when you hate it. and there, somehow, deep deep inside there’s still a little bit of magic. tun-ta-tuntun-tun-ta-tunnnnnn…

Monty Brogan: Well, fuck you, too. Fuck me, fuck you, fuck this whole city and everyone in it. Fuck the panhandlers, grubbing for money, and smiling at me behind my back. Fuck the squeegee men dirtying up the clean windshield of my car. Get a fucking job! Fuck the Sikhs and the Pakistanis bombing down the avenues in decrepit cabs, curry steaming out their pores, stinking up my day. Terrorists in fucking training. SLOW THE FUCK DOWN! Fuck the Chelsea boys with their waxed chests and pumped up biceps. Going down on each other in my parks and on my piers, jingling their dicks on my Channel 35. Fuck the Korean grocers with their pyramids of overpriced fruit and their tulips and roses wrapped in plastic. Ten years in the country, still no speaky English? Fuck the Russians in Brighton Beach. Mobster thugs sitting in cafés, sipping tea in little glasses, sugar cubes between their teeth. Wheelin’ and dealin’ and schemin’. Go back where you fucking came from! Fuck the black-hatted Chassidim, strolling up and down 47th street in their dirty gabardine with their dandruff. Selling South African apartheid diamonds! Fuck the Wall Street brokers. Self-styled masters of the universe. Michael Douglas, Gordon Gekko wannabe mother fuckers, figuring out new ways to rob hard working people blind. Send those Enron assholes to jail for FUCKING LIFE! You think Bush and Cheney didn’t know about that shit? Give me a fucking break! Tyco! Worldcom! Fuck the Puerto Ricans. 20 to a car, swelling up the welfare rolls, worst fuckin’ parade in the city. And don’t even get me started on the Dom-in-i-cans, ’cause they make the Puerto Ricans look good. Fuck the Bensonhurst Italians with their pomaded hair, their nylon warm-up suits, their St. Anthony medallions, swinging their, Jason Giambi, Louisville slugger, baseball bats, trying to audition for the Sopranos. Fuck the Upper East Side wives with their Hermes scarves and their fifty-dollar Balducci artichokes. Overfed faces getting pulled and lifted and stretched, all taut and shiny. You’re not fooling anybody, sweetheart! Fuck the uptown brothers. They never pass the ball, they don’t want to play defense, they take five steps on every lay-up to the hoop. And then they want to turn around and blame everything on the white man. Slavery ended one hundred and thirty seven years ago. Move the fuck on! Fuck the corrupt cops with their anus violating plungers and their 41 shots, standing behind a blue wall of silence. You betray our trust! Fuck the priests who put their hands down some innocent child’s pants. Fuck the church that protects them, delivering us into evil. And while you’re at it, fuck JC! He got off easy! A day on the cross, a weekend in hell, and all the hallelujahs of the legioned angels for eternity! Try seven years in fuckin’ Otisville, J! Fuck Osama Bin Laden, Al Qaeda, and backward-ass, cave-dwelling, fundamentalist assholes everywhere. On the names of innocent thousands murdered, I pray you spend the rest of eternity with your seventy-two whores roasting in a jet-fuel fire in hell. You towel headed camel jockeys can kiss my royal Irish ass! Fuck Jacob Elinsky, whining malcontent. Fuck Francis Xavier Slaughtery my best friend, judging me while he stares at my girlfriend’s ass. Fuck Naturelle Riviera, I gave her my trust and she stabbed me in the back, sold me up the river, fucking bitch. Fuck my father with his endless grief, standing behind that bar sipping on club sodas, selling whisky to firemen, cheering the Bronx bombers. Fuck this whole city and everyone in it. From the row-houses of Astoria to the penthouses on Park Avenue, from the projects in the Bronx to the lofts in Soho. From the tenements in Alphabet City to the brownstones in Park slope to the split-levels in Staten Island. Let an earthquake crumble it, let the fires rage, let it burn to fucking ash and then let the waters rise and submerge this whole rat-infested place.
[pause]
Monty Brogan: No. No, fuck you, Montgomery Brogan. You had it all, and you threw it away, you dumb fuck!