David's post on Michael Winterbottom prompted me to revisit "24 Hour Party People" and "In This World." I dread the possibility of having to shoot another project on DV again, but both of these films have inspired and challenged me to think otherwise. "World" in particular, is oddly luminescing in all its pixelated glory.

The DVD of "World" had an absorbing EPK with a director's commentary on the film's journey. It gave the plight of the characters a harder emotional edge and I was even more in awe with what Winterbottom was seeking to accomplish with all the bureaucracies involved. 

Can't wait for "Nine Songs." It's about time we have poignant porn.

~

BTW David, I didn't quite get "Henry Lee", but I totally got "Rocketman." Bear with me as I gather my thoughts.

~

Overdue but well-deserved: our very own James M. Johnston earned the FW Weekly Reader's Choice vote for Best Local Filmmaker. Since a paragraph wasn't written, I shall do the honors:

As far as reputations go, James M. Johnston has a memorable one as the man who verbally bashed our Commander-in-Chief at the Dallas Museum of Art on June 11th, 2004. He's also doing what he loves: running Spiral Diner with his lovely wife Amy , blowing silent farts amongst friends, and making films in his own terms without subjecting to big boobs, bad humor, and murderous rampages. The writer-director is hardly making a scratch from his artistic endeavors, but that's hardly the point. "What can I say," he sighs as he scratches off a piece of tempeh from his infamous beard. "People are stupid." Nevertheless, Johnston's production company (Beautiful Confusion Films) is busy cranking out ideas that would "break bitches in halves" (whatever that means) and establish him as a "muthaf***in' auteur."

~

Well, fuck me hard.

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Mark shall die of leukemia.

I'm working on the second draft of a still untitled script and cancer seemed like such a cliche. On second thoughts, so is leukemia. Is there a more unusual terminal illness that doesn't cry Lifetime? It feels terribly exploitative and irresponsible to throw in a disease angle just for the sake of creating a dramatic device, especially when I personally have not experienced it before.

So out goes leukemia and in comes auto accident. Am I digressing?  &n bsp;

Although I do have vague childhood memories of leukemia. It affected my piano teacher's son when he was 13, three years older than I was at that time. I've never really talked to him, but he was usually around for my lessons, looking paler or weaker each week. One day, he was sitting behind his mother, who was correcting me for the umpteenth time that I shall play a section with more staccato.

"What would you like for lunch?" she asked.

"Maggi Mee!" he cried.

"Okay," she smiled.

Maggi Mee, otherwise known as ramen noodles here, was always considered a guilty pleasure in my family. Eat it for every meal and you'll be severely malnutritioned! The seasoning packet alone will make your hair fall off!

And like anything that was bad for me at that time, it was one that I enjoyed secretly. I had my stash of seasoning packets (mostly chicken flavor) underneath my pillow, which I would stick my fingers in and lick 'em from time to time, tasting those wonderful MSG like a crack whore scoring another high.

So naturally, I envied the 13-year-old. Sure he was sick but he could eat whatever he wanted.

Then he passed away and lessons were cancelled for a month. I continued afterwards and she went on to instruct me like nothing happened. Of course, something was different. Her eyes were weary, her voice was softer. She looked like she was gonna turn around from me and there he was, wanting to have Maggi Mee for lunch again.

~

"The Brown Bunny" was not as horrible as what everyone made it out to be. You gotta hand it to Chloe for being able to make you want to give her a big warm hug right after the money shot. Her graceful presence before the anticipated moment was truly a highlight of the film. It completely justified the non-simulated act she had to perform after.

But my favorite scene is when we see Bud Clay driving to Daisy's old home and in the soundtrack is a sad tune hauntingly hummed by a woman. Can anyone name it?

~

"A Dirty Shame" was occassionally funny but mostly redundant. I do find myself cracking up every time I think of David Hasselhoff's (very random) cameo, trying to imagine how it was pitched to him:

Yeah, so like, there's this scene that I think you'll be PERFECT in. You're in a plane and you're excusing yourself from a fan who you just gave an autograph to because you nee d to take a dump in the toilet - which YOU DO by the way, and your shit eventually  ;lands on Chris Isaac's head...

David and I went to see Michael Haneke's "Time of the Wolf" yesterday afternoon and we both agree that it is easily one of the best films of the year.

I wasn't expecting much, even though I consider myself a big fan of his previous films ("The Piano Teacher" and "Code Unknown" in particular), but when the closing credits rolled in emotionally resonating silence (a Haneke trademark), I find myself haunted, challenged and strangely moved. For a subject matter that was obviously bleak from the get-go, "Time" was ultimately hopeful and optimistic, a surprising gesture of departure from his other doom-and-gloom endings (check out David's review too).

Haneke looks like a scary man (no thanks to his publicity headshot, which resembled a cross between Christopher Lee à la Saruman in "Lord of the Rings" and the critical ar t history professor&nb sp;in college who never gave you anything better than a C+), but these making-of footages revealed an artist the actors clearly adored (it also provided a sense of relief, seeing these people smiling and laughing in between emotionally draining takes).

~

I woke up this morning to this article that made me all invigorated by the creative process.

I can't wait to get back on the set again.

~

Oh, I also can't wait to see this.

~

David's insights about the filmgoing experience is dead-on. There's just something about watching a movie in the darkness of a theater that cannot be recreated at home. I know for one that it's unfair to sit through a Haneke or Tsai Ming-Liang on DVD (it also goes back to my theory about "Lost in Translation": those who saw it at home did not savor the film in the same way as we did in the moviehouse). Many smaller, intimate films require that distinct, direct relationship between the viewer and the silver screen. Any distraction or interruptions can easily disrupt and distort the  intent of the filmmaker. Personally, I think I'll be more spiritually enriched if I didn't watch a majority of the stuff I rented in the confinements of a living room.

~

Revisiting "Time" (potential spoilers alert): there were two scenes in the film that exemplified an incredibly realistic portrayal of humanity, both through a teenage girl's perspective. The first being her response to the first hint of music she has heard in a while and the temporary soothingness it provides her (which also has the same exact effect for the audience). The second is her maternal instincts to protect her fragile, younger brother from witnessing the rape of a girl her age, covering his eyes and holding onto him while whispering "I love you lots."

Thinking about them now reminds me again the overwhelming power of the cinematic language. It doesn't have to be condescencing. It doesn't have to be sensationalized or even melodramatized. There are still simple, everyday acts in the world, that when interpreted through the eyes of cinema, can be the most brilliant thing you'll ever see.  

Stop the fucking press!

Hou Hsiao-Hsien's homage to Yasujiro Ozu, "Cafe Lumiere" is coming!!!

I deleted my previous entry by error. Shit.

~

I've been meeting the actors for "Pit Stop" this past week, mainly to get a preliminary discussion going before we dive into rehearsals. I really enjoy these sessions: we ask questions, we pick brains, we share personal experiences. When we're done, we feel enlightened. Like therapy, but free.

Maybe they're just sucking up, but I've gotten very positive responses from the actors. They like the story, they like their characters. There have been no qualms about its subject matter, which I didn't think anyone would, but I've learned to brace myself for the unexpected conservat ive backlash. So far so good. No freaks outs, no back outs.

QCinema asked me if I had any ideas about the promotion. They suggested that I think along the lines of featuring "pretty faces" in flyers and such. My self-righteousness kicked in right away, screaming "but it's not like that!" Then I remember how many of the "Happy Birthday" festival screenings sold out due to this still and I knew they were right. The challenge I posed to myself was: how to make it sexy but still arty?

Taking some cues from Mr. Gallo's marketing strategy and incorporating some of the valuable color palette feedback from my super hip friend Ale, the result can be found here (download the pdf flyer).

Let me know if it gets your dick hard and makes you wanna cum to (or at) the reading.

~

I've fallen in love.

With Ms. P's boxer Baxter. I dogsit him weekly and I'm sucker for his affectionate face-licking. 

Ms. P told me that he whined when I left her apartment today.

Funny boy. I'll see you next week.

~

So three more festival rejections occured earlier in the week for "DEADROOM." I bashed my ego so hard, that I woke up at 2:30 on Wednesday morning and felt like I wanted to put a bullet through my head.

James remains optimistic. Someone should be.

~

I've finished the first draft of an untitled script. It's very rough, filled with typos and bad grammar, but I found myself reenacting one particular scene in my shower this morning.

I really cried my eyes out.

~

I was planning to see this and this over the weekend but I ended up watching this and this. 

Yes, money was partly wasted. "Cellular" was particularly bad. I cringed at the lines those poor actors had to endure. It wasn't very entertaining either. The experience resembled one of those high concept movie-of-the-week you find yourself watching on TV one night and wonder later on why you even sat through it.

Although, I must admit that I guiltily gobbled up "Resident Evil: Apocalypse." Some action sequences were very inventive, and it made me wonder if "Cellular" would be a better film if it was slapped with an R. Just imagine: Kim Ba singer is savagely beaten up, they shoot her son in front of her, Chris Evans dies unexpectedly when girlfriend Jessica Biel suddenly goes psycho on him, Bill Macy becomes crooked too, and at the end, with her swollen face and bleeding nose, Kim goes on a rampage and kills and tortures each one of her kipnapper (where one dies from having a vintage 80s cell phone fisted up his ass).

Returning to one of the films I was supposed to spend my moola on, please please please go see "Oasis."

I'm still feeling the high from seeing "[url=http://www.hero-film.de]Hero[/url]."

Part of me is in awe of its magnificent artistry, but mostly, I'm just so in love with the talents involved.

I remember when I was 17 and John Woo broke into Hollywood with "[url=http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0...]Hard Target[/url]." I was so proud of my cultural heritage. Finally, we're good enough to compete with the Americans. All the years before, I've always watched Chinese films with a sense of inferior complex. The "whities" always did it better, did it bigger, did it slicker. But now, one of us has crossed over. He has made it big time. Of course, this was way before the Woo I idolized became the Woo who was cranking out 100% American [url=http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0...]junk[/url]. Nowadays, he's like a friend I'm embarrassed I knew. [i]What happened, John?[/i]

There's still a chance to redeem himself I hope. Maybe this would be [url=http://www.darkhorizons.com/n...]it[/url].

Now there's "Hero", and I see [url=http://www.danwei.org/his_nov...]Tony Leung[/url] and Maggie Cheung, stars whose careers I've followed from their very [url=http://cine-hk.chez.tiscali.f...]beginnings[/url], when I was eight years old and returned home from school and watched them fall in love on a popular TV [url=http://us.yesasia.com/en/PrdD...]soap[/url]. They fell in love again in many other subsequent films playing different characters. Maggie was a very average actress back then (and had a bad overbite that was discreetly corrected later), and she did her fair share of garbage. Look at her now - beautiful as ever, but with a maturity that graces every expression. Tony seems like he has only aged no more than ten years, but he still exudes a charisma that's calm and sexy. He's the friend you wanna have around when things go wrong.

And then there's [url=http://www.reverseshot.com/do...]Chris Doyle[/url] (while you're at it, check out the [url=http://www.reverseshot.com/li...]Linklater[/url] piece too). The Australian who lives in Hong Kong, who submerged himself in Asia and never turned back. He has openly criticized Woo and Chow Yuen-Fatt, folks who've migrated West and have no intention of returning to their roots. Success to them was Hollywood, and who could blame them? It happened to Arnie. It could happened to them too. But now, the former sailor/snake-oil-salesman has become the Gucci of cinematographers, a trademark of his own. An artist possessing a distinctive style that is always evolving, but always stunning.

Above all, he's still living at the same [url=http://frames.free.fr/Images/...]apartment[/url] they shot "Chungking Express" in.

I grew up with these people, and their accomplishments delivered a pride that I didn't think was attainable. And as I watched "Hero" last Saturday afternoon with my fellow Americans, I thought, "Damn – we’ve made it.”

~

"[url=http://www.apple.com/trailers...]Napoleon Dynamite[/url]," much to my surprise, was incredibly delightful. [url=http://www.road-dog-productio...]David[/url] warned me way back that I wouldn't like it (and he's often right about such predictions), but I finally gave in when I couldn't stop laughing at some of the clips I've seen [url=http://www2.foxsearchlight.co...]online[/url] (favorite: "but my lips hurt real bad!").

I thought the film was a celebration of our inner dorkiness. You initially laugh at them, then you eventually laugh at yourself. We were all like that once: socially awkward like a newly arrived immigrant, indulging in bizarre hobbies in the privacy of our locked bedrooms, expecting to discover ourselves by experimenting with gaggy fashion. Most of us grew out of it, but I look back at these days with fond memories. My peak period occured at the age of 16: singing along to Robbie Nevil, staging the feminist version of "Die Hard" with my Barbies and hiding my bolster "bitch" I was fond of rubbing against every morning from my mother.

Ebert's [url=http://www.suntimes.com/ebert...]review[/url], on the other hand, is baffling: "The movie makes no attempt at making him likable." That is untrue, because Napoleon, ultimately, has good intentions. Anyone who's willing to get his groove on in front of the entire school to help his friend win class presidency is likable in my book.

Bonus points for me also arrived in the form of two songs played back-to-back in the prom dance sequence: [url=http://www.alphaville.de/]Alphaville[/url]'s "Forever Young" and Cyndi Lauper's "Time After Time." Classics that sparked off a series of bittersweet memories in bad hair and Day Glo tops.

Ah...the good old days.