花样管家和花样流氓

昨天看了《我的帅管家》，今天看了《Crows Zero》，两种截然不同的日剧（后者为电影）。

看到《帅管家》的海报，有没有一种和《偷偷爱着你》（花样少男少女）海报雷同的感觉？基本上，《帅管家》和《偷爱》都是同一种类型的电视剧，都改编自少女漫画，以俊男美女充斥全剧，缓慢又强调唯美效果。《帅管家》里的水岛宏（也就是《偷爱》里的难波南、《Tokyo Dogs》的工藤丸尾）化身风度翩翩、无所不能的超级管家，展开将没落千金改造成为上流社会淑女的华丽计划。

由于剧情俗滥，就不多说了。

基本上，看《帅管家》是不必用脑的。用脑来看的话恐怕会挖出一大堆漏洞。因此，只要看着俊男美女养眼就好。连续剧满足的是女生期待被当成公主伺候的心里，能有一长得英俊风流的绅士对自己千依百顺，而且不但能照顾自己的起居，还能在危难时化为骑士保护自己。看的时候可以小小意淫一下，然而不能多看，否则会对现实失望。

看完很梦幻的帅管家群，就看血腥的男人打架场面。

热血高中生，为了称霸高校，分门结党地群殴，然后旧人换新人地一代代打斗下去，另一条故事线上又描述了一个做了一辈子小混混的中年人对于自己毫无意义的混帐生命的无可奈何。似乎，这群热血沸腾的年轻人最终，不是离开黑暗，就是如这个中年混混一样懵懂而无奈地在黑道中混完他们的下半辈子。

在这一整片从头打到尾的血腥中，其中一个高中生患上癌症（他是打斗的两方相互关联的人物–属于其中一方，但又是另一方领袖的儿时好友），在打斗开始之时他上了手术台，为了争取30%活下来的机会。

电影看到最后，竟然有些苍凉。

为了争做所谓的“铃兰之巅”而不顾性命地打斗，另一边又有同伴为了生命挣扎。这一切，究竟为了什么？

 

Dance, Subaru!

最近很喜欢在PPLive上看电影。前两天和今天早上看完Pirates of the Caribbean系列，因为是典型的好莱坞巨片，我就不多加讨论了。其实在PPLive上看到的电影，还有一些真的很不错。

刚才看的是《舞吧，昴！》(Dance, Subaru!)，着实是迷恋上了那位美丽的女主角宫木昴（黑木梅纱饰）。她的容貌是没话说的，笔直乌黑的长发、饱满的额头、长挑的凤眼，嘴唇薄但很适合故事主人翁那种傲气、坚韧的脾气。也许好在我不是舞者，看电影时不会执着于舞蹈的技术高下。许多会跳舞的人由于批评剧中舞蹈的水平，错过了电影的感情与精神。平心而论，我们看的是电影，看的是故事，而不是舞蹈大赛纪录片。

《舞吧，昴！》应该算是比较普通的电影，没有铺天盖地的爆破，没有惊天动地的爱情，没有曲折离奇的剧情，它只有一个又一个的小人物，一个又一个的梦想，一个又一个的故事。小人物的生命、小人物的梦想，居然也可以如此灿烂动人。当别人评这部电影平平无奇、主角表演木讷时，我却很陶醉于它的淡然清香，徘徊于舞者对于舞蹈执着热爱的那份激情中。

 

Paris, je t’aime

I know, I know, I’m way too slow. Why hadn’t I watched this earlier?

But then again, even if I’ve watched it earlier, I might not have had the capacity to appreciate the series as much as I do now.

This is one movie (if I may use that unit) which is like an art exhibition on its own, with many shots strung together, interwoven and pieced together in a most intriguing quilt of Paris.

Some of my favourite shorts:

Quais de Seine (Ve arrondissement) — made by the husband-and-wife team of American screenwriter Paul Mayeda Berges and Indian-British director Gurinder Chadha. A young man (Cyril Descours), hanging out with two friends who taunt all women who walk by, strikes up a friendship with a young Muslim woman (Leïla Bekhti).

Loin du 16e (XVIe arrondissement; literally: “far from the 16th”) — by Brazilian writer-directors Walter Salles and Daniela Thomas. A young woman (Catalina Sandino Moreno) sings a Spanish lullaby (“Qué Linda Manito“) to her baby before leaving it in a daycare. She then takes an extremely long commute to the home of her wealthy employer (whose face is not seen), where she sings the same lullaby to her employer’s baby.

Place des Victoires (IIe arrondissement) — by Japanese writer-director Nobuhiro Suwa. A mother (Juliette Binoche), grieving over the death of her little boy (Martin Combes), is comforted by a magical cowboy (Willem Dafoe).

Place des fêtes (XIXe arrondissement) — by South African writer-director Oliver Schmitz. A Nigerian man (Seydou Boro), dying from a stab wound in the Place des fêtes asks a woman paramedic (Aïssa Maïga) for a cup of coffee. It is then revealed that he had fallen in love at first sight with her some time previously. By the time she remembers him, and has received the coffee, he has died.

Just some of it…

The stories made me cry, laugh, snort, say “HUH?!” in disbelief, frown, giggle….

Will watch “New York, I love you” at a later time/date. I hope it matches up

 

Mr Darcy ♥

Mr Darcy from Pride and Prejudice!

I’m hopelessly enamored by the 2005 version (Keira Knightley as Elizabeth; Matthew Macfadyen as Mr Darcy). I loved their conversations, especially the spectacular argument between Lizzie and Mr Darcy and the oh-so-beautiful ending.

The beautiful ending conversation (US version):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xVed83t6hZo

Mr. Darcy: How are you this evening, my dear?
Elizabeth Bennet: Very well… although I wish you would not call me “my dear.”
Mr. Darcy: [chuckles] Why?
Elizabeth Bennet: Because it’s what my father always calls my mother when he’s cross about something.
Mr. Darcy: What endearments am I allowed?
Elizabeth Bennet: Well let me think…”Lizzie” for every day, “My Pearl” for Sundays, and…”Goddess Divine”… but only on *very* special occasions.
Mr. Darcy: And… what should I call you when I am cross? Mrs. Darcy…?
Elizabeth Bennet: No! No. You may only call me “Mrs. Darcy”… when you are completely, and perfectly, and incandescently happy.
Mr. Darcy: [he snickers] Then how are you this evening… Mrs. Darcy?
[kisses her on the forehead]
Mr. Darcy: Mrs. Darcy…
[kisses her on the right cheek]
Mr. Darcy: Mrs. Darcy…
[kisses her on the nose]
Mr. Darcy: Mrs. Darcy…
[kisses her on the left cheek]
Mr. Darcy: Mrs. Darcy…
[finally kisses her on the mouth]

 

The Time Traveler’s Wife

I watched the movie during my study-break today. I was glad that I have the honors room to myself because I had to dry my eyes so many times (imagine doing it in the library).

The movie wasn’t perfect, there are loopholes and parts I didn’t quite get. But the love was oh so beautiful. The lead actress Rachel McAdams was so beautiful, the laugh lines around her mouth and the sweet, warm love in her eyes made me fall in love with her too. As inconceivable the idea of time-traveling is, the story emanates a bitter-sweet vibe that makes you ache for the couple. I couldn’t stop crying when I watched the loss in Clare’s eyes and body language whenever Henry had to vanish into another time frame.

Like what many reviewers said, I’m glad that the movie didn’t go all Hollywood-ish and start on the science of time-traveling. There was some talk about genetics and electromagnetic waves, and how stress/alcohol triggers time-traveling, but that was that. The story and the love was much more important. This is a love that people these days long for but are hardly able to manage themselves. How many would spend a lifetime waiting for your loved one? It seemed so much a thing of the past, where a beautifully old lady go about her quaint little country cottages, knitting, gardening and cooking broth while waiting for her lover from 40 years ago.

A love that goes beyond temporal satisfaction or material comfort. Henry could never promise Clare that he would be there for her forever. He cannot even know when he will disappear or when he will come back. He lived knowing when he will die. He disappears when he is stressed or excited – on his wedding day, in his marital bed, whenever. Clare gets angry too, she gets frustrated, she gets bitter. But at the end of the day, she loves him still. (In the book, I hear, she waited for him right till she was 70 and dying – he appeared, in his 40-year-old body and she loved him still.)

Even as we were moved to tears by this story, we sometimes don’t really know why. But let me guess, don’t we, at the bottom of our hearts, wish we have someone who would love us regardless of whether we are always there for them, whom we love equally deeply? Someone who doesn’t stop loving us even if they are angry with us, even if we can’t give them the best kind of life they are entitled to? Don’t we wish that our loved one would touch our faces like Clare did to Henry and tell us, despite their own aching heart, that they love us?