Khuda Kay Liye

Only you can decide what feels right and what feels wrong. And thereafter, only you are accountable to yourself on those decisions… when you are lying in bed alone at night with your conscience.

just saw this amazing pakistani movie that dove into a lot of intense issues surrounding religion, culture, right and wrong. It has so much in it and I just saw it so id rather not get into it in detail right now. All i really wanna say here is that people should see it. its fucking frustrating because everyone is so right and everyone is so wrong. But after all is said and done, what is left is that everyone must trust their inner compass (rather than those bestowed/taught to them by others, and not falling into manipulative traps either).

yea it left me in a lingering fuzz of thought and emotion. I love that feeling.

There are some spots of bad acting and awful accents but once you get passed that the movie raises a lot of hot topics and moments of intensity. loaded with irony and contrasts and comparisons. amazing music too. So yeah see that one.

thanks

Another thing is for certain… there is still a lot of work to be done in this world. I despise using the word freedom but in the end that is what it is, giving people the ability to decide how to live life for themselves based on the way they see it. unpressurized and unobligated based on personal moral internal judgement (which is naturally subject to change constantly)

Kannathil Muthamittal – A Peck on the Cheek

Home is where the heart is…

When I was about three years old, I would refuse to eat a single meal unless my parents played Gitanjali. I watched it almost everyday until we left India, it was my first film, and it is why Mani Ratnam seems to have an especially close association to my memories of home. Watching his films, the pangs of missing are so strong I can feel them in the pit of my stomach, ropes pulling at my heart, and tears that well in my eyes. Every frame is a reminder of home, depicted with a mix of accuracy and nostalgia. It is not what Ratnam does, but what he doesn’t do. He doesn’t change India, he doesn’t cover her in glitter and glamour, nor does he search for melodrama. His lens captures her natural beauty, the rural villages, her people, her soul, drawing human drama from reality. His films radiate with a love for India that is incomprehensible. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and to me, there is no place on earth more beautiful than home. There are no people on earth more beautiful than at home. In all its colorful pieces, from the cold touch of temple marble to the old ladies chewing paan, India is home.

I’ve spent a lot of time wondering why I despise a majority of Bollywood films. Most Indians are fanatical about every hip shake on a foreign moutain. What is wrong with me? Am I not Indian enough to understand? They are beautiful looking films about beautiful looking people, by any measure. But they have no soul. They have no heart and lack an essential human element. My despise extends beyond Bollywood to most Telegu and Tollywood films I grew up watching. Overly violent, bloody, melodramas that can stir up powerful emotions, but again lack soul and a human connection. India has a handful of good directors that do not get the credit or recognition they deserve. Mani Ratnam is one of them. He has a unique ability to both satisfy Indian audiences and make a thought-provoking film, a feat very few can accomplish. The Bollywood machine churns out glamorous and extravagant films with super-star actresses and chiseled actors living in mansions. Bollywood has been looking to the west for so long that it has forgotten what India is. Ratnam has been successful making movies about Indian issues, that take place in rural areas, shot in India, with Indian actors that actually look like Indians. Kannathil Muthamittal is such a film and has instantly become one of my favorite Ratnam films, along with Gitanjali and Roja.

The story of Kannathil Muthamittal takes place between Sri Lanka and Madras. Shyama, a Sri Lankan woman played by Nandita Das, is forced to abandon her baby in an Indian refugee camp in Rameswaram due to civil war. Her husband disappears early in the marriage due to ties with the LTTE. A family in Madras adopts the baby girl, Amudha, who at the age of nine is told of her adoption. A confused child, she desperately seeks to see her real mother. The family travels through Sri Lanka in search of the girl’s mother. The separation of child from mother is an interesting theme in Indian cinema and literitature. India is the land of the mother, she provides us sustenance, food, water, and allows to earn a living. She has, in essence, lost two of her children to war and strife: Pakistan and Sri Lanka. A war in the north and a war in the south, it pains to see a country separated by fighting. No country is perfect and co-existence has proven to be the most difficult task for human beings. Drowning the truth in sugary celluloid, as most of Bollywood does, only ignores the existence of the problem. Ratnam acknowledges these feuds and still sees only the best in people, no matter their circumstances. There is abundant beauty in India, and there is good in people, even if it is buried under decades of hatred. Who needs the streets of Amsterdam or the Swiss Alps to sing of love? Just watch the sun set over the coconut trees on the banks of the Godavri or the fishermen drifting into the harbor in Cochin and you will understand the love of mother India that binds us together, as we are all her children.

While the civil war in Sri Lanka has recently reached it’s bitter end, one can only wonder how long peace lasts, it is our nature. Ratnam draws some fascinating themes from this story, along with interesting characters. The adoptive father is a Tamil writer who fights with words and not bullets. The family’s guide is a Sinhalese man who is almost killed by the LTTE. The adoptive mother is a fair-skinned TV news reporter, while the real mother and Amudha are dark-skinned: a point that is especially explored in the film. Amudha is a child born from violence, she is the hope of peace brought to and protected in India. She seems to have always felt like an outsider, more so once told of her adoption. As war rages on, her innocence slowly withers during her ventures through Sri Lanka. She meets all people in her path with an unbiased kindness only capable in a child. When an LTTE suicide bomber speaks with her in a park, she asks him why his Tamil is funny. He smirks at her innocence, but is captivated at her simple and perhaps ideal view of the world. Both skin color and the Tamil language serve as a way to bind the characters together but also as a way of discrimination. There are many other themes that Ratnam explores in Kannathil Muthamittal, much beyond the scope of this journal. Watching the film, one will understand how well Ratnam films work on two-levels: a seemingly simple drama to appease audience demands with complex and thought-provoking themes underlying it. Pay close attention to the music and lyrics, as they are never ordinary Bollywood junk, and Ratnam uses his songs for a very specific purpose.

This has been the year of learning in my life, the year of numerous self inquisitions. I have been walking around for years with a void in my chest, searching for something, anything, to fill it with. While somethings fixed it temporarily, the void has never been really filled. I realized that home is where the heart is, and I left my heart in India a long time ago. Since I first opened my eyes to the azure painted walls of a hospital room in Bangalore, to the brown skinned gazes of my family, I gave my heart away under the auspices of colorful incarnations of Vishnu. Now on the other side of the world, after a journey of wonderful sights and people, I find myself missing home. I may never be whole again until I go back, but it isn’t time yet. Until then, the images and characters of Mani Ratnam will suffice.

“We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.” – T.S. Eliot.

Synecdoche New York

Holy Mind Fuck

I should make it clear from the start that I shall no way be able to do justice to this film because I have only seen it once, 24 hours ago, and I think I would need 3 more viewings and a few months of digestion before I could approach it with more coherency and understanding. Its funny, being an avid believer in the LOST experiment I thought im pretty savvy when it comes to accepting mind fucks but this is just on a whole new level.

This complex story follows An aging physically and mentally troubled/disturbed/conflicted/ungrounded man through his struggle to do something substantial and meaningful. He attempts this by creating an honest and (brutally) truthful theatrical production that in actuality is an ongoing never ending process. [like life]. The film itself is fully loaded with metaphors and ideas surrounding themes that deal with the struggles of life in the face of certain death. The issue of course is that the character is so terrified and obsessed with death that he forgets to focus on living. A very nice (and personally timely) example of light and heavy/dark interpretations of life and how it affects living it. Well before I get too carried away with detailing my personal interpretation of this piece (and spoiling things) it is important to recognize what this whole thing really is.

The movie is extremely complex and as soon as things start making sense, they slip away into a new irrational direction. Scenes that seem to be dreams, exagerated realities where most movies would indulge in for a second before the character wakes up, here actually end up becoming a permanent fixture in the story. Green poop, a continuously jittery right leg, a constantly flaming house etc. They are thrown at us, crashing our understanding of reality (what we have come to expect in movies), while at the same time we are expected to merely accept them as facts (a new reality given to us by the story teller) and allow the story to continue with it. It is a very strange and disequilibrating experience.

In the end I guess the film is meant to be art. So often do we forget that film is actually a medium of art, just like photos, paintings, music and poetry. Art is something that can be realistic or it can stand for abstraction. It can mimic reality or it can bend reality in order to provoke a thought, prove a point, highlight a sentiment and start a discussion. – A form of expression. A lot of pretentious modern artists enjoy the power of Wall Art to spark a passionate discussion even if it evokes emotions of disgust instead of love. This seems to be Kaufmans concept for this film, to start a conversation, to poke into peoples minds and stir up questions rather than answers. I read somewhere that he likes to pack his films up with so much stuff that its actually impossible to pick up on everything on the first viewing, this allows for different experiences on repeated viewings. The concentrated complex package also means there is a little bit for everyone, certain phrases or moments hit some and not others, allowing a personalized experience which changes from person to person. Again like some of that abstract art out there.

Kaufman loves looping realities, finding it easy to write about someone writing about someone writing. Several degrees of reality that would actually need a level of calculus to truly dissect. Like in one of his earlier films Adaptation where he writes a movie about himself writing a movie adaptation of a book and half way through the film you realize you are watching the movie the character in the movie is writing, and the character wrote himself into his script. The film is of course an adaptation of a book. That puts the whole Locke loop telling himself what he needs to do in the future-past, to shame. Here he loops his own character two or three times without hesitation, explanation or apology.

This film is grotesque at times, its absurd at times and pushes the awkwardness boundaries to new levels. Kaufman masters awkwardness like Lynch masters eerie nausea. While again I appreciate the shock value element, or discomforting effect to provoke the audience; some of it is what just prevents me from loving the film. Perhaps my mind is not as flexible or open as I think it is, but I don’t find that kind of stuff speaks to me in the way it might speak to someone like Britt. Probably why I never could get into David Lynch anyway.

What is interesting is that I didn’t walk out of the film disappointed or too frustrated. It was oddly satisfying even though it made very little big picture sense. I think because first I can appreciate how well it is made, with detail and complexity, even if it goes over my head and second because even though I may not understand the whole film there were some solid segments or specks of dialogue that resonated with me and sat well with me. The humor and absurdity was pretty amusing. The acting is just awesome and the characters are extremely interesting.

If you have not seen this film and are feeling adventurous I would definitely recommend it, just know its a bit like one of those dark water slides where you have nothing to hold on to, no knowledge of when it will turn or where it will end. There is no ground, and even when you think you have found something little to hold on to it will soon dissolve and leave you helpless once more.

well done Kaufman you weird ass mother fucker. But I still prefer Eternal Sunshine. I loved adaptation a lot, again not in its entirety but for its small moments that spoke loudly to me, but I think, for me personally, his crazy imagination works better when vesseled by another director who can pull the leash when necessary. Knowing Michel Gondry’s meticulousness, even if he is just as creatively loopy, I can imagine it would allow something more linear. I like my ‘beginning, middle confusion, synthetic catharsis and lingering optimistic end’ Film Structure thank you very much.

Star Trek

When science didn’t meet fiction…

Since this film has such a large fan base preluding it’s release, I begin with a confession: I am not a trekkie and for the sake of this piece I attempted to watch the original television show, but fell asleep. The first sci-fi film I saw was Return of the Jedi in sixth grade when Lucas re-released the trilogy. I love Star Wars and never understood Star Trek. However, the new Star Trek film is a fresh and valiant effort at re-igniting an ailing franchise. With a cast of young actors, sharp dialogue, and improved special effects, this could have been the Star Trek for a whole new generation. The film was entertaining, but unfortunately did not live up to it’s potential.

A cameo by Leonard Nimoy, Winona Ryder as Spock’s mother, Eric Bana as the evil Nero, and several other recognizable faces added a blithe note to the film. However, there were several plot holes and technical inconsistencies that distracted from full enjoyment of this film. I learned from a close trekkie friend that old Star Trek was renowned for actual science, as far-fetched as it may seem, unlike Star Wars which shrouds the unexplainable in “the Force.” The new Star Trek deviated from it’s predecessors in such matters, creating confusion rather than curiosity.

Sci-fi films are naturally far-fetched, but they work within their own system of logic. Star Trek seemed to constantly break that system. Red matter, for example, is a mass of red-ink looking material that could consume planets into a black hole with only a single drop. So why would the ship carrying a vat of red matter not implode? I felt the Death Star was a more plausible planet destroying technology. However, it is a science fiction film and is about fantasy rather than science; about living our fantasies vicariously through the characters.

Unfortunately, between the technical dialogue and action sequences, there is little time left for characters to develop and connect to the audience. There is a superficial history and relationship between Spock and Kirk, but the film fails to dig deeper. Spock is a fascinating character with so much potential, but his depth is smothered by kitschy one-liners and over use of warp speed. Recent revivals of superhero franchises graduated from an action film to something cerebral, characters with depth, and a balance of action. The audience expects more today from action and sci-fi films than ever before and Star Trek is on a dire course of perpetuating an ailing formula.

Start Trek has immense potential of becoming a great film. It should not wander into the company of such shallow friends as Fantastic Four and waste good material. I sincerely hope the franchise corrects it’s course, so that it may “live long and prosper.”

American Splendor

“If you’re the kind of person looking for romance or escapism or some fantasy figure to save the day…guess what? You’ve got the wrong movie.”

During the graphic novel revolution of the 70s, Harvey Pekar wrote a series of graphic novels titled American Splendor. I knew nothing of him until this film, but he was a huge success in the underground comic book scene and changed the idea of hero comics. He thought of superhero comics as “phony bullshit,” so the novels were about his life, his everyday battles, illustrated by his friends. He was the hero of his story much like we are heroes of our own lives. The film translates his story on the big screen, resulting in a quirky and off-beat biopic.

If I had to describe Pekar’s personality, perfectly depicted by Paul Giamitta, it would be the bastard child of Debbie Downer. Cynic would be an understatement. At the mid-point of his life, divorced twice, alone, out of shape, and a dead-end file clerk job. An avid reader and collector, his loneliness eats away at him. His misery is so pungent that it’s humorous. Pekar had no reason to exist, or so it seemed. In a crisis of purpose, he yearned to leave his mark on the world. Something to be remembered by, a purpose to his vain existence.

A turning point in a man’s his life, when he wonders “how he got to be second rate,” and faces an overwhleming feeling of futility. A realization that you are one of billions of people, so what is your life worth? You didn’t get fame or fortune and didn’t find the love of your life. You didn’t accomplish your dreams, life didn’t pan out as you planned, and you’ll be forgetten as fast as the ink dries on your death certificate. You lived and died and the world didn’t even blink an eye. It’s a foreboding realization, powerful enough that it provoked Pekar to write American Splendor.

We are familiar with this story and character in films such as Synecdoche, NY and American Beauty. However, American Splendor presents them in simpler terms, without the drama of a cheerleading lolita or a psychedelically grand production of life. The film finds simple drama in everyday life. Like his novels, Pekar fights his ordinary life one day a time. His argument against superhero comics is similar to arguments against movies like Synecdoche, NY: why the phony intricate stories when “ordinary life is pretty complex stuff?”

American Splendor was refreshing in style, characters, and simplicity. Part narrative, part documentary, it presented an interesting perspective on life, through the eyes of a cynic. The film was no phony, nor were the characters. The fact that Pekar is a real person only increases my affinity for this film. It isn’t a film for everyone, often slow and untidy. However, it is uplifting in it’s own way, despite the introduction, and it’s comforting to know that all ended well for Harvey Pekar.

Summer Playlist

Summer time…

The salty smell of summer is beginning to fill the air, the days grow lazy. People are venturing out of their dwellings, shedding layers of a cold winter and a wet spring, and bare knees and arms are shyly basking in sunlight. Sandals, check. Ice-cold beverage, check. Hearing and sight, check. Bring on the heart-thumping, obnoxiously loud, seizure-causing visual action of the summer movie. These are the films I’m looking forward to this summer, please add any that are missing:

Star Trek / May 8 – Never watched Star Trek, saw this film a few days ago. Entertaining…could have been better.

Angels & Demons / May 15 – Oh no, not the Illuminati! Not very good. The first film was better.

Terminator Salvation / May 21 – Two words come to mind: badass and awesome. Another film with potential turned to folly.

The Girlfriend Experience / May 22 – Because I like Steven Soderbergh films.

Land of the Lost / June 5 – Have we grown tired of Will Ferrell acting like a child?

Away We Go / June 5 – Sam Mendes’s got the good stuff.

Year One / June 19 – No consistency, all funny, and plenty of Jack Black charades.

Whatever Works / June 19 – Never was a fan of Woody Allen, but it seems like a Curb Your Enthusiasm movie. And it has Evan Rachel Wood.

Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen / June 24 – Reliable summer action flick.

Public Enemies / July 1 – Johnny Depp + Christian Bale + Michael Mann (Director of Heat) = Need I say more?

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince / July 15 – I can’t wait.

Funny People / July 31 – Could be another Apatow hit…or not…

Julie & Julia / August 7 – Only because I liked the duo in Doubt and I like food.

District 9 / August 14 – Looks kinda cool.

Australia

I had a farm in Australia…

Australia seemed like a very personal film, made from dreams of childhood memories. Baz Luhrmann was born and raised in rural Australia, his family operated a farm and gas station there. Understandably, he paints Australia with such meticilous affection, gentle strokes of characters on a sunset canvas. Australia is a beautiful country and much like the Africa that bewitched Sydney Pollack, the Australian outback cast a spell on Lurhmann. He cherishes it in every frame of this film.

Part romance, wild-west action, comedy, and nat-geo, Australia runs almost three hours delving into issues of love, racism, and cattle operations in WWII Darwin. Lady Ashley, a wealthy British woman played by Nicole Kidman, journeys to Australia in hopes of selling her ailing cattle business. She arrives to find her husband dead and the tale continues of her romance with the people, land, and the Denys Hatton-esque Drover, played by Hugh Jackman. The adventure takes them from Darwin to Sydney and back.

Australia’s a beautiful film, from costumes, to set design, to cinematography. The set pieces had an antiquated theatre look and the rich backdrops appeared like old paintings, consistent with Luhrmann’s Red Curtain Trilogy. Unfortunately, the film offered little other than visual appeal. Australia’s beauty was the centerpiece of the film, while the story, characters, and conflicts seemed simply peripherals. By the end of the two-hour mark, my interest waned. Partly because the film had no spine to hold it together, and partly because I had seen better versions of this story before: Out of Africa and Rabbit Proof Fence.

Out of Africa is on my short-list of best films of all time. When a film like Australia comes along, with it’s many and obvious similarities, it better be an improvement or provide a new perspective. Unfortunately, it accomplishes neither. The film’s attempt to address the Stolen Generations fell short, unable to compare to another great film Rabbit Proof Fence. The sub-plots concerning cattle business and WWII were predictable, as was the ending. Too little substance and too much nat-geo footage, Australia went on a walkabout for three hours and never found itself.

Australia would have done well with more time and direction. Perhaps a mini-series format, allowing it to accomplish all of it’s themes and deeper character development. Baz Luhrmann is a talented writer and director. I loved Moulin Rouge and Romeo + Juliet was good. Even though Australia didn’t meet expectations, I look forward to his rumored production of The Great Gatsby.

Adventureland

I don’t want to lose you…th…

Adventureland was a surprisingly good film. Contrary to the grossly misleading trailer, it’s not a campy Reaganized Superbad. Set in the late 80s, the film is a coming of age tale of summer love. Jesse Eisenberg naturally plays the awkward James, Bill Hader plays the hilarious park manager Bobby, and Kristen Stewart is mesmerizing. I debated whether or not to write about this one. It wasn’t a complicated film, but it sparked thinking, and nothing good ever comes from thinking. From devil’s workshop…

There is a breed of fantasy that can be dangerous. The worst Star Wars ever inflicted is a twisted ankle from light-saber training in your parent’s basement. Dangerous fantasy inflicts inside, in the form of regret and yearning. While this maybe a personal experience, films are nonetheless a powerful medium of expression. They can effect us in unimaginable ways.

Adventureland is that dangerous breed of fantasy, only sharpened by Stewart. Directed and written by Greg Mottola, director of Superbad, Adventureland is a serious and at times dark film. Moments of immaturity breakup an otherwise bitter story. The theme park is a familiar place for our generation; a protected bubble of friendships, relationships, and tomfoolery. The world outside the park is just as familiar; to us it seems dark, real, and painful.

The park closes and we must eventually leave. At first our assumptions are correct, but slowly and surely we find happiness outside, often in each other. The film captures a nostalgia for simpler times, harken back to frivolous youth and tornadoes of summer love. A whirlwind of confusion, anger, heartache, and joy that only a young heart can survive. The last summer love, in American Pie or Adventureland, is the terminal vestige of our youth. These films fulfill our guilty pleasure to relive.

Whether it’s 1987 or 2007, that summer will elude us for the rest of our lives. A ray of innocent and free-falling memory. Time stops. Dysfunctional peripheral vision. In awe of such energy and infatuation that even watching water boil is the most interesting thing in the world. Summer passes and the winds of change blow, fading leaves of memories fall and cover in snow. We grow up, we grow apart, and no matter how perfect it was, we learn that “nobody ever wins a big ass panda.”

You’re fired if they do.

Gran Torino

no one call’s you a pussy like Clint does.

There is something extremely satisfying about an old pissed off that guy swears relentlessly. It’s always the kids who have the most foul mouths but it’s like they don’t know how to do it properly. On the other hand ‘life’s a bitch and i’ve experienced it’ seniors wield the power of swear words masterfully, in its true art form, by using it to great affect in appropriate context. Perhaps you think i’ve gone a bit to far with this, but watching Gran Torino, I saw Clint Eastwood suitably channel this phenomenon for his angsty, wartorn, bitter persona and the result was both funny and awesome.

The movie was really interesting. It manage to deal with lots of different issues without making a big fuss about them (without over dramatizing them), which is something I really respect in films. Even if I tell you the premise for the film – old veteran guy hates people and life, bonds with neighborhood foreigner as a father figure – so much that made the film so good is completely missed out. Along the way the movie looks at immigration culture, youth gang culture, the loss of identity, morality and values (with each generation getting worse); and at its core is a man struggling with finding meaning in his life after his soul has been shredded by the hand of his own country he loves and respects. While exposing his trauma from war, he talks about a big operation in Korea where he had no choice but to kill a 17 year old boy, which has been terrible to live with, but the sickest part of all is that the country gave him a medal for doing it. If that doesn’t fuck you up, i don’t know what will.

There were so many little elements I liked in the movie, one in particular was the cleverly thought out design of the story in terms of the clash of cultures.

The American element. A fully American war veteran, flying his beautiful American flag from his porch, stuck in his old values. The DIY man mows his lawn, paints his deck, drives a pickup truck, but cleans his 1973 muscle car, worked at Ford for 50 years, drinks pbr on his porch while spending time with his dog (man’s best friend). Beyond the superficial, his ideals and values are at the heart of America: Liberty in the Jefferson sense. my property and my freedom. Within that freedom I have a right to protect my property through which I have a right to own a gun and guard my personal space from other people. Everyone can co-exists provided everyone keeps to their own shit. Leave me alone and let me live my life on my property the way I want to and I won’t mess with you. This sense of old school liberty, painted thickly on the flag, upheld by a patriotic veteran is just a full bodied 3 dimensional concept. Then to have his world rocked by foreign immigrants with a completely different ideology and way of life.

The Hmong element. Another clever move was to use un-nationed people as the immigrants next door rather than simply Chinese, Korean or Japanese as most people might be tempted to do. They picked a complex culture that has been pushed around in their place of origin and given them a solid reason for coming to america. Even this is thrown at Walt (clint) in a very casual manner by a girl introducing him to their history and culture again without making a big deal. Suddenly he finds himself interacting with a very asiatic culture keen on family, gift giving, visitor feeding, spiritually superstitious, moral respect and outwardly caring about others. To great irony he finds himself connecting with these people more than his own family members.

Of course within this story is the confusion of the second generation diaspora dealing with the process of americanization and gangster culture. There’s a funny scene where the Hmong gang and the Latino gang start bitching at eachother out of the windows of their flexed up cars. So absurd yet equally understandable. Clint’s own son actually has a cameo appearance as a Wigga trying to be brotherly with a few young black trouble makers, only to be saved by his dad (not movie dad but real dad) and then be called a pussy by him. Great stuff.

I could go on analyzing many different bits that I enjoyed but I shall not bore you anymore. I really enjoyed this movie and definitely recommend it, it features some of the funniest stuff I have seen in ages (like i said before grumpy old man swearing with comic precision) but also tackles a lot of human issues and drama. It went a lot of places for 116 minutes but it all felt right, nothing was rushed or dragged out unnecessarily. Some really interesting and dynamic characters are presented here, again without making too much of a big deal. However there were a few moments here and there (specially at the beginning) where they tried too hard to show us what a hardass bastard Clint Eastwood character was. His journey of course is the most interesting and center piece of the film, de-shelling his snake skin and finding the inner human within.

Really enjoyable and can’t wait to buy it for my collection.

Love Actually

“I’ve got a sneaking suspicion – love is all around.”

I know this is an old film…but bear with my noobity…

The British were born to make romantic comedies. They have a profound understanding of the genre and its limitations. British rom-coms are not afraid of their reflection, proud of what they are, and the writers often indulge themselves in the genre. Never presenting an answer or a remedy for the ailments of our hearts, Love Actually is an unswerving example of an unadulterated romantic comedy.

In the style of Four Weddings and a Funeral, Love Actually has an ensemble cast playing out several interconnecting story lines. The ensemble cast is not a new concept. However, to present a romantic comedy that celebrates love in all its forms is refreshing. It is everywhere, as the charming Hugh Grant puts it best “it’s not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it’s always there – fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends.”

It is in our nature to love, it is innately human. Yet with an understanding of almost everything around us, we’re unable to decipher love. We are convinced we can, searching from the depths of our heart to the fringe of imagination. Our recipe is a boiling pot of dreams and memories, hearts fluttering with wings of euphoria, vulnerability, clouded judgement, a dash of sugar, spice, and everything nice. It must be love.

What is love? How do we know when we’ve fallen? Is it easy or does it need work? Does it take time? Or is it fated at first sight or obligated? Is it ever truly mutual? Should it cause pain and sadness? Will everyone find it? Does it even exist? Truth is it doesn’t matter. Love is what it is, like this film. It gives no answers and begs no questions. It non-existently exists without a beginning or an end. For if we ever truly understand love, there will be no need for anything else.