Sunday, November 09, 2008
Movie Review: Quantum of Solace (Bond's Back...whoopee...)
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Wednesday, November 05, 2008
ONE FUCKING DAY...
ONE FUCKING DAYThat’s all it took to hold an election in a country of over three hundred million people…
ONE FUCKING DAY
To decide who will hold the highest office in the free world…
ONE FUCKING DAY
For a gracious man to stand up and concede like the officer and gentleman that he is…
ONE FUCKING DAY…
…is impossible for the Philippine government to get anything done.
But in ONE FUCKING DAY, former Agriculture Undersecretary Joc Joc Bolante and his “doctors” can conjure up a hundred and one illnesses to try and avoid facing the senate. http://newphilrevolution.blogspot.com/2008/10/bino-bola-tayo-ni-bolante-were-being.html
In ONE FUCKING DAY, St. Luke’s was transformed from a major hospital, to the Satanic sanctuary of a government pup, who served the corrupted purposes of a mole-infested demoness holding the highest office in the Philippines…
In ONE FUCKING DAY, Gloria Macapagal Arroyo and the rest of Malacañang spend 6.5 million Pesos to keep the presidential house running… http://www.istorya.net/forums/politics-and-current-events/85811-keeping-house-for-malacaa-ang-cost-taxpayers-a-cool-p2-36-billion-in-2006-coa.htmlONE FUCKING DAY won’t be enough to cheat in an election. So a country of only ninety one million people takes a grand total of FIFTY FUCKING DAYS between voting day and the declaration of the "elected" official.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2004_Philippine_elections http://www.asianinfo.org/asianinfo/issues/gloria_macapagal.htm
A lot can happen in ONE FUCKING DAY, huh?Catch you later…
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Movie Review: Tropic Thunder (Stiller, Downey, Jr., Jack Black in one movie...'nuff said)
Time to pump up my street cred and tell the world that after a handful of local movies, both good and bad, the wife and I finally found the time and saw “TROPIC THUNDER.”
“Tropic Thunder,” Ben Stiller’s movie-in-a-movie satire grabs a handful of Hollywood stereotypes and clichés, throws in a few monkeywrenches and succeeds in making an entertaining movie. Entertaining, yes, but quite frankly not the huge tentpole event a few reviews have built it up to be.
At this point, everybody who’d care already knows the basic plotline of “Tropic Thunder.” Admittedly, this flick wouldn’t have as much appeal to me if it didn’t star Robert Downey, Jr. Here, Downey plays an over the top method actor who gets himself medically treated to look like African American for him to play a “black dude.” And it’s testament to the man’s skill that he is essentially an American actor playing Australian actor who had to play an African American actor.
Personally, Ben Stiller has done his “overtly-serious-it’s-funny” routine often enough for it to be his second skin. Not saying it wasn’t funny as always, but it wasn’t really such a big deal for me.
Jack Black channels his rock star persona and comes up with the drug-addled comedy star Jeff Portnoy, who made a name with a series of “Nutty Professor” style movies.
There were cameos galore. Of course, one of the most rewarding “surprises” (that the internet sort of ruined) was finding the oh-so-full-of-himself Mr. Tom Cruise actually look like he let his guard down and have a ton of fun. Mr. Cruise plays Les Grossman, a ruthless studio executive who so sleazy, I feel like a goddamn saint. Oh, and watching the man dance like an idiot through the closing credits just gave me newfound respect for Mr. Cruise.
“Tropic Thunder,” Ben Stiller’s movie-in-a-movie satire grabs a handful of Hollywood stereotypes and clichés, throws in a few monkeywrenches and succeeds in making an entertaining movie. Entertaining, yes, but quite frankly not the huge tentpole event a few reviews have built it up to be.
At this point, everybody who’d care already knows the basic plotline of “Tropic Thunder.” Admittedly, this flick wouldn’t have as much appeal to me if it didn’t star Robert Downey, Jr. Here, Downey plays an over the top method actor who gets himself medically treated to look like African American for him to play a “black dude.” And it’s testament to the man’s skill that he is essentially an American actor playing Australian actor who had to play an African American actor.
Personally, Ben Stiller has done his “overtly-serious-it’s-funny” routine often enough for it to be his second skin. Not saying it wasn’t funny as always, but it wasn’t really such a big deal for me.
Jack Black channels his rock star persona and comes up with the drug-addled comedy star Jeff Portnoy, who made a name with a series of “Nutty Professor” style movies.
There were cameos galore. Of course, one of the most rewarding “surprises” (that the internet sort of ruined) was finding the oh-so-full-of-himself Mr. Tom Cruise actually look like he let his guard down and have a ton of fun. Mr. Cruise plays Les Grossman, a ruthless studio executive who so sleazy, I feel like a goddamn saint. Oh, and watching the man dance like an idiot through the closing credits just gave me newfound respect for Mr. Cruise.
Now here's where it gets interesting... apparently, they shot the film in Hawaii... i was kind of thinking they should have shot here in the P.I. Stiller could have done a World War II style story, instead of Vietnam, and shot right in Metro Manila!
Revenue for the locals! Global street cred! and maybe they can "accidentally" drop a bomb in Malacañang! Or how about a sequel? Imagine this...Catch you later, folks...
Sunday, October 26, 2008
DUMB COPS
And now for the late news… (and we’re talking a couple of weeks late…)
Pinoy cops (General Dela Paz, et.al.) were held up at the Moscow Airport for being stupid enough to have their entire cash stash in one place while traveling. Never mind where they got it (we’ll get to that later), but what they did (or didn’t do) is just another exhibition of the kind of brashness and brazenness the Arroyo term of government has been flaunting to the helpless public. Or maybe they're just plain stupid.
Too bad for them, the Russians aren’t easily swayed by “Manila’s Finest,” (or “Makati’s Pride,” or some other dumb tagline whatever city chooses for its lovely police forces.)
It also speaks volumes that after a whole week and a half, the Philippine government still hasn’t pinned down the culprits, or traced the exit path of roughly 6.9 million Pesoses. (yes, “Pesoses!” because there’s so much of it!).
A new excuse is that the money was supposedly allotted to buy intelligence equipment for the Philippine National Police. Okay, considering that they were stupid enough to get detained for this, I honestly don’t think 6.9 million Pesoses will buy enough intelligence to compensate for how fucking stupid they are.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
And we trust them to enforce our laws, fight crime (ah, explains the infighting in the police force), and maintain peace and order.
Oh, right… we DON’T.
photo from: http://lesliebocobo.blogspot.com/
Friday, October 24, 2008
copyrights...
They pulled out my uploaded “video” of Richard Page’s “The Best Thing” from my YouTube account. Last night, I got the email notification. A few clicks later, I confirm that it IS gone.
I’m not pissed, I’m not angry, But I do feel that it’s such a waste of opportunity. Not for me, not for Mr. Page, not for the record company that owns the rights, but for the gazillions who could have stumbled upon this fine piece of music that I honestly didn’t feel got the time of day it deserved.
Now I’m not a thoroughly diligent netizen, but my original intention was to put out little snippets and/or rare gems of pop that should have become big hits, but didn’t. Or at the very least, a few songs that I’m sure other people would enjoy if they only knew about it. I’m giving it one more shot by posting the video here on Blogger.
I have absolutely no intention of taking money away from Mr. Richard Page, who I am a fan of, nor from the record company. I merely like his music enough to go through all this fucking trouble.
Here it is again, before the copyright police find me yet again…
Enjoy a fine piece of pop...
Saturday, October 04, 2008
ACRONYM (Annoyingly Constructed References & Offending Names for You & Me) a.k.a. Why Smart Can Suck Big Time and Movie Review: I.T.A.L.Y.
It has been a harried catch-up week so far… catch-up week and a half actually. Since I got kicked out of the SSI last Wednesday after toiling for eight fucking working days for the self-proclaimed training demi-gods at Smart.
One of the reasons this entry took too long is because apart from playing catch-up with the rest of my life for the past 6 working days is that annoying acronym I had to force into this stupid entry title. You’ll see why in a bit…
Part 1: S.H.I.T. (Smart Haters & I... Together!)
So I was told I was going to be subject to the SSI… what I wasn’t told was that it was going to last a couple of weeks… so naturally, I was bitching my sorry ass off since the TS CEO dialed my CP to remind me not to go AWOL in the SSI, while she was LHAO. IMHO, the SSI was nothing more than a load of BS. They spoke in acronyms to make even the dumbest and simplest terms seem technical and sophisticated.
Basically, it was about CD’s, which were going to be demoted to PD’s, who had to see what their DSP’s will be going through so they can train them in the preparation of the DAR to run the BCP and the use of the PSF, and ORLN everything, while all with the assistance of the DBM’s supervised by the AM’s. Little did they know that some CD’s were going to be marked up to RD’s.
Dennis Trillo as the male lead had about as much star-power as a one-watt light bulb, and Jolina Magdangal, while always a respectable entertainer had very little to work with. Even the comic talents of Rufa Mae Quinto were extremely under-utilized. I had always been allergic of the tendency of Pinoy movies to jam so many “artistas” into a single flick that nobody gets any decent screen time to play out their characters well enough. Ironically, despite the movie being shot using Kodak film, over an hour had passed, and the story still had absolutely nothing that was developing...
One of the reasons this entry took too long is because apart from playing catch-up with the rest of my life for the past 6 working days is that annoying acronym I had to force into this stupid entry title. You’ll see why in a bit…
Part 1: S.H.I.T. (Smart Haters & I... Together!)
So I was told I was going to be subject to the SSI… what I wasn’t told was that it was going to last a couple of weeks… so naturally, I was bitching my sorry ass off since the TS CEO dialed my CP to remind me not to go AWOL in the SSI, while she was LHAO. IMHO, the SSI was nothing more than a load of BS. They spoke in acronyms to make even the dumbest and simplest terms seem technical and sophisticated.
Basically, it was about CD’s, which were going to be demoted to PD’s, who had to see what their DSP’s will be going through so they can train them in the preparation of the DAR to run the BCP and the use of the PSF, and ORLN everything, while all with the assistance of the DBM’s supervised by the AM’s. Little did they know that some CD’s were going to be marked up to RD’s.I mean, it was a miracle [those trainers'] heads fit in the hotel’s tiny elevator…
My brain was flooded with flashes of SOS wishing for myself to go MIA before I get declared DOA…
Acronym Glossary: 
SSI – Smart Sales Institute
TS – Tiong San
CEO – Chief Executive Officer
CP – Cell Phone
AWOL – Absent WithOut Leave
LHAO – Laughing Her Ass Off
IMHO – In My Humble Opinion
BS – Bull Shit
SIM - Subscriber Identification Module
CD – Channel Distributor
PD – Provincial Distributor
DSP – Distributor Sales Personnel
DAR – Daily Activity Report
BCP – Basic Call Procedure
PSF – Persuasive Selling Factor
ORLN – Objectives, Results, Learnings, Next-step
DBM – District Business Manager
AM – Area Manager
RD – Regional Distributor
SOS – (this does NOT stand for “Save Our Souls.” The code that became "S.O.S." came about because it was an easily recognizable combination to serve as a distress call via Morse code, as in: dot-dot-dot... dash-dash-dash... dot-dot-dot... don't believe me? that "alternative" text message alert a.k.a. SMS sounds off as: dot-dot-dot... dash-dash... dot-dot-dot... which refer to the Morse code letters of SMS... but enough geekery...)
MIA – Missing In Action
DOA – Dead On Arrival
* whew! And these are the only ones I remember…!
They (Smart) make you go through 2-3 days of “class room” lectures, then send you out on field under the sun, rain, dust, smoke, and other undesirables that come crawling by for the rest of the other days... one has to wake up at the break of dawn, go on the road, sell SIM cards and Smart pre-paid load then head back to the “lecture headquarters” for “sharing” a la Alcoholics Anonymous all the way until around 9pm.
To be fair, the DBM’s who acted as facilitators were cool. I got along with them. But man, there were those two pompous assholes in the training group… one of them was by the name of Raymond Chao (I think), and one of them was name Gil… something… he was referred to by
many as “Naruto.” Heaven knows why… I mean, it was a miracle their heads fit in the hotel’s tiny elevator… and they were probably the reason the goddamn airconditioning seemed to be on overdrive…
(and yes, I deliberately put their names in here so they can google themselves and find this blog… bwahahahahahaha…!)
Anyways, Mr. Naruto and his one lousy lackey didn’t like me much. Found an excuse to get rid of me a week and a half later, then it was bye-bye Smart for me…
Part II: I.T.AL.Y. (I Trust And Love You) *bleh*! The Movie Review
The title alone was warning enough, but “Hellboy 2” and “Righteous Kill” were already off the screens (I blame Smart for taking away almost two weeks of my life), and the wifey was such a GMA-7 diehard that she nudged me to this pointless flick… I figured, “what the hey… the John & Sarah movie was a more than pleasant surprise, so maybe this would be one, too... the fact that a movie review on this had high-hit blog entry potential didn't hurt either...”
First case in point, the only really good thing I gained from the movie was that I am no longer exclusively obsessed with Maja Salvador. The picture-perfect Rhian Ramos totally blew me away… another gorgeous young thing I’d gladly get jailed for. But as of this writing, Miss Ramos celebrated her 18th birthday… BARELY LEGAL!!!
Jolina Magdangal finds herself finally given a break to work on a cruise ship, which apparently is like a very hokey version of the "The Love Boat," where almost everyone seems to be horny and lonely... The ship's population seemed extremely thin for a ship that size, and the passenger demographics seem totally off... I was almost wishing they'd have an Isaac on the ship who could pour me a drink until I forget those ninety minutes never happened... The movie’s plot was so thin and directionless that one had to just appreciate the European sights and imagine it was a cheapo travelogue to stop oneself from thinking it was an absolute waste of time.
Ironically, despite the movie being shot using Kodak film, over an hour had passed, and the story still had absolutely nothing that was developing...
Dennis Trillo as the male lead had about as much star-power as a one-watt light bulb, and Jolina Magdangal, while always a respectable entertainer had very little to work with. Even the comic talents of Rufa Mae Quinto were extremely under-utilized. I had always been allergic of the tendency of Pinoy movies to jam so many “artistas” into a single flick that nobody gets any decent screen time to play out their characters well enough. Ironically, despite the movie being shot using Kodak film, over an hour had passed, and the story still had absolutely nothing that was developing...Unsurprisingly, the only one who lit up her time on-screen was the talented Eugene Domingo, 
although her best parts were already in the trailers.
But let me stop right here. I’ve said enough, and I would like to continue my Rhian Ramos fantasies…
I feel like a total cad for spending my time on I.T.A.L.Y. But hey, if I’m a loser for seeing the movie, you’re an even bigger loser for getting this far in this lousy review. So there.
Catch you later…
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Eulogy for Tina C. Cosep...
Throwing in the Towel...
The first time I saw her, she was on her way out from the winding driveway of the offices of the former Montage Studios back in Horseshoe Village. I was coming back from a meeting, and I said to Ronnie the driver then that she seemed like a nice person. I was wondering whether or not we hired her…
It turned out that Tina Cosep as a secretary was bubbly, gregarious, and simply grabbed her assignments and went straight to the finish line. Of course, she made a couple or so mistakes here and there. Unfortunately for her, she was technically under my former partner Julius (http://golangco.blogspot.com/2008/06/eulogy-for-julius-yap-chua.html) who never really cut people too much slack.
Tina was due for the hatchet.
That time, I was too busy to look for new people, and my side of the house in Montage always seemed undermanned. Tina seemed like a genuinely nice person, and I wanted to prove to my former partners that nurturing people (as opposed to whipping them like mules) can not only help improve those selfsame people, but benefit us in the long run as well… so yes, I told them to not fire Tina, and I took her in.
She did not disappoint.
As first observed, Tina was bubbly, gregarious, and when being taught, vigorously bobbed her head in acknowledgement of everything I said. Of course I knew she was listening since she probably got seven out of ten of what I said. And while she seemed to have learned a lot from me, she also learned a bit of my recklessness. But it was what it was, and it wasn’t bad at all. It was quite good actually. Good enough that I trained and turned Tina into a full-fledged account executive when I put up Maverick Advertising back in January 28, 2002.
There are a handful of people I’ve taken under my wing, who I’ve become quite proud of. Tina was one of them. Apparently, she was used to being left out in her life and fending for herself and her daughter Clarisse. After over half a dozen major soap-opera-style episodes in her life (getting knocked up early, dad had a second family, fire razed everything, etc…) I realized that while I taught Tina how to be become an advertising accounts person, she didn’t need anyone teaching her how to survive. At least I think I gave her a little room to stop from surviving and actually live for a while…
I also taught her that not everyone was out to get you. (Sometimes I think that’s a mistake…)
Tina left Maverick somewhere through 2004 (or was it ’05?). I honestly don’t remember, because when it seemed that Tina’s life was under way, she started to fade from us until she finally decided to put up a little something of her own.
A handful more soap opera-style episodes again later, I was told recently that Tina had found herself a nice, steady job in a cellular phone distributor, kept on dealing with whatever life threw her way, and still came out smiling at the end of the day.
So it was quite a shock to have been told that Tina had already been in Capitol Medical Center’s ICU for two weeks fighting for her life. Shocking because Tina shouldn’t have been in an ICU for that long, because if there was anyone who knew how to fight for her life, it was Tina.
But yesterday she lost the fight.
Cristina C. Cosep passed away last September 18, 2008 to complications from pneumonia. She left behind 3 beautiful children, friends who loved her more than family (no, that wasn’t a typo. And yes, that included me…), showed anyone who cared to pay attention that no matter what kind of shit life threw your way, you can still smile, laugh, then have yourself a nice day…
She was thirty one.
The first time I saw her, she was on her way out from the winding driveway of the offices of the former Montage Studios back in Horseshoe Village. I was coming back from a meeting, and I said to Ronnie the driver then that she seemed like a nice person. I was wondering whether or not we hired her…
It turned out that Tina Cosep as a secretary was bubbly, gregarious, and simply grabbed her assignments and went straight to the finish line. Of course, she made a couple or so mistakes here and there. Unfortunately for her, she was technically under my former partner Julius (http://golangco.blogspot.com/2008/06/eulogy-for-julius-yap-chua.html) who never really cut people too much slack.
Tina was due for the hatchet.
That time, I was too busy to look for new people, and my side of the house in Montage always seemed undermanned. Tina seemed like a genuinely nice person, and I wanted to prove to my former partners that nurturing people (as opposed to whipping them like mules) can not only help improve those selfsame people, but benefit us in the long run as well… so yes, I told them to not fire Tina, and I took her in.
She did not disappoint.
As first observed, Tina was bubbly, gregarious, and when being taught, vigorously bobbed her head in acknowledgement of everything I said. Of course I knew she was listening since she probably got seven out of ten of what I said. And while she seemed to have learned a lot from me, she also learned a bit of my recklessness. But it was what it was, and it wasn’t bad at all. It was quite good actually. Good enough that I trained and turned Tina into a full-fledged account executive when I put up Maverick Advertising back in January 28, 2002.
There are a handful of people I’ve taken under my wing, who I’ve become quite proud of. Tina was one of them. Apparently, she was used to being left out in her life and fending for herself and her daughter Clarisse. After over half a dozen major soap-opera-style episodes in her life (getting knocked up early, dad had a second family, fire razed everything, etc…) I realized that while I taught Tina how to be become an advertising accounts person, she didn’t need anyone teaching her how to survive. At least I think I gave her a little room to stop from surviving and actually live for a while…
I also taught her that not everyone was out to get you. (Sometimes I think that’s a mistake…)
Tina left Maverick somewhere through 2004 (or was it ’05?). I honestly don’t remember, because when it seemed that Tina’s life was under way, she started to fade from us until she finally decided to put up a little something of her own.
A handful more soap opera-style episodes again later, I was told recently that Tina had found herself a nice, steady job in a cellular phone distributor, kept on dealing with whatever life threw her way, and still came out smiling at the end of the day.
So it was quite a shock to have been told that Tina had already been in Capitol Medical Center’s ICU for two weeks fighting for her life. Shocking because Tina shouldn’t have been in an ICU for that long, because if there was anyone who knew how to fight for her life, it was Tina.
But yesterday she lost the fight.
Cristina C. Cosep passed away last September 18, 2008 to complications from pneumonia. She left behind 3 beautiful children, friends who loved her more than family (no, that wasn’t a typo. And yes, that included me…), showed anyone who cared to pay attention that no matter what kind of shit life threw your way, you can still smile, laugh, then have yourself a nice day…
She was thirty one.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
NO PLANS...
Every now and then, one has those days when NOTHING goes as planned…
Last Sunday was one such day…
I PLANNED to leave Baguio City earlier since the wifey and I had to take her father to the
airport…
We PLANNED to take her brood over to Amici at Tomas Morato, where California Pizza Kitchen used to be, for a nice, relaxing dinner…
We PLANNED to hit Pampanga by mid-afternoon...
I PLANNED to hit the Maverick office running strong and hard this week and the next to give me and the team enough momentum for my rather long tenure by the end of the month when my brother heads for his European vacation…
I PLANNED to catch a movie at least twice this week starting Monday…
aaaaaaaaaand here’s the day…
I DID NOT plan on forgetting to get those low-end cellphones
from the store for office use. But I did, so I had to wait until the store opened so I can grab a couple of those cheapo phones and get them signed on the receipts to my credit…
I DID NOT plan on having a flat tire while traversing Kennon Road at 11:30am…
I DID NOT plan on not having the necessary tools to get the spare tire unchained…
I DID NOT plan on finally getting the spare tire out, then finding it doesn’t have air…
I DID NOT plan on wasting two hours along Kennon Road while Dinos, the Harrison store’s Security Dispatch Commander drove down, then ran back up to the city to find a vulcanizing shop that worked on tubeless/radial tires…
I DID NOT plan on not having an honest lunch, and finding the first drive-through spot to my convenient right to be a KFC, which asked me to wait for around 15 minutes for my orders of
Zingers, which the wifey turned down, and we were left with tiny chicken fillet sandwiches. NOT a proper lunch…
I DID NOT plan to waste a lot of my coming work week acting like fifth-grade dummies while SMART (yes, the telco) pretends that pre-paid load distributors have to subject ourselves to pointless lectures where only they will truly make all the money anyways…
I DID NOT plan to still be up tonight after a long drive…
Last Sunday was one such day…
I PLANNED to leave Baguio City earlier since the wifey and I had to take her father to the
airport…We PLANNED to take her brood over to Amici at Tomas Morato, where California Pizza Kitchen used to be, for a nice, relaxing dinner…
We PLANNED to hit Pampanga by mid-afternoon...
I PLANNED to hit the Maverick office running strong and hard this week and the next to give me and the team enough momentum for my rather long tenure by the end of the month when my brother heads for his European vacation…
I PLANNED to catch a movie at least twice this week starting Monday…
aaaaaaaaaand here’s the day…
I DID NOT plan on forgetting to get those low-end cellphones
from the store for office use. But I did, so I had to wait until the store opened so I can grab a couple of those cheapo phones and get them signed on the receipts to my credit…I DID NOT plan on having a flat tire while traversing Kennon Road at 11:30am…
I DID NOT plan on not having the necessary tools to get the spare tire unchained…
I DID NOT plan on finally getting the spare tire out, then finding it doesn’t have air…
I DID NOT plan on wasting two hours along Kennon Road while Dinos, the Harrison store’s Security Dispatch Commander drove down, then ran back up to the city to find a vulcanizing shop that worked on tubeless/radial tires…
I DID NOT plan on not having an honest lunch, and finding the first drive-through spot to my convenient right to be a KFC, which asked me to wait for around 15 minutes for my orders of
Zingers, which the wifey turned down, and we were left with tiny chicken fillet sandwiches. NOT a proper lunch…I DID NOT plan to waste a lot of my coming work week acting like fifth-grade dummies while SMART (yes, the telco) pretends that pre-paid load distributors have to subject ourselves to pointless lectures where only they will truly make all the money anyways…
I DID NOT plan to still be up tonight after a long drive…
Later, dudes…
Sunday, September 07, 2008
Blue Friday...
Nothing big happened last Friday… but for some odd reason, the latter half of the day left me feeling just a bit… weighted… yeah, yeah… I can hear the fat jokes now… but seriously…
Then I backtrack to two things I stumbled upon that day, that have absolutely no direct connection and/or affect on me:
On an online news bulletin: http://environment.newscientist.com/channel/earth/dn14656-massive-canadian-arctic-ice-shelf-breaks-away.html?feedId=online-news_rss20
And it’s even more disturbing to think that for us to maintain some semblance of human comfort, we crank up the airconditioning, and refrigerate more stuff, and have more cars than ever before… so everything really goes up exponentially. The more the earth gets tired, the more we unknowingly fight back and cause even more damage. Just to stay comfortable… I am just as guilty as everyone else though…
Which really makes me wonder what kind of world Marge will be growing up in… I really must be getting old…
And on the Philippine STAR’s front page:
SC REAFFIRMS GAG ON NERI
Right. If you ask me, the real “gag” is on the country for being presented a lousy show where the bad guys win.
http://philstar.com/archives.php?aid=20080904132&type=2
Personally, I’m a little on the side of tired from throwing barbs at the iron maiden known as Gloria “Macapal” Arroyo (I honestly don’t think she deserves her father’s good name…)… It seemed fun at first, but the more one keeps checking on the Philippine government, the more one realizes how futile the whole affair of scrutinizing it is. Not to mention how blatant and brazen our officials have become.
It’s amazing how Gloria has seemingly bought the souls of everyone who can serve her purposes with 9-10 figure sums. Apparently, everything’s for sale when one is discussing things to the tune of hundreds of millions…
Taxes are up. The Chickenjoy meal’s priced like a thirds of Alfredo’s pepper steak. A liter of
gasoline is one-sixth of minimum wage. And through all that, the tobacco companies have managed to keep a pack of cigarettes below thirty bucks (at supermarkets) by paying off the people who come up with the tariffs.
And the ice caps are melting, and the weather is getting freaky, and the free soup at corner cafeteria is getting more watery by the day.
And Gloria’s laughing with her goddamn mole all the way to the fucking Swiss banks…
Then I backtrack to two things I stumbled upon that day, that have absolutely no direct connection and/or affect on me:
On an online news bulletin: http://environment.newscientist.com/channel/earth/dn14656-massive-canadian-arctic-ice-shelf-breaks-away.html?feedId=online-news_rss20
And it’s even more disturbing to think that for us to maintain some semblance of human comfort, we crank up the airconditioning, and refrigerate more stuff, and have more cars than ever before… so everything really goes up exponentially. The more the earth gets tired, the more we unknowingly fight back and cause even more damage. Just to stay comfortable… I am just as guilty as everyone else though…
Which really makes me wonder what kind of world Marge will be growing up in… I really must be getting old…
And on the Philippine STAR’s front page:
SC REAFFIRMS GAG ON NERI
Right. If you ask me, the real “gag” is on the country for being presented a lousy show where the bad guys win.
http://philstar.com/archives.php?aid=20080904132&type=2
Personally, I’m a little on the side of tired from throwing barbs at the iron maiden known as Gloria “Macapal” Arroyo (I honestly don’t think she deserves her father’s good name…)… It seemed fun at first, but the more one keeps checking on the Philippine government, the more one realizes how futile the whole affair of scrutinizing it is. Not to mention how blatant and brazen our officials have become.
It’s amazing how Gloria has seemingly bought the souls of everyone who can serve her purposes with 9-10 figure sums. Apparently, everything’s for sale when one is discussing things to the tune of hundreds of millions…
Taxes are up. The Chickenjoy meal’s priced like a thirds of Alfredo’s pepper steak. A liter of
gasoline is one-sixth of minimum wage. And through all that, the tobacco companies have managed to keep a pack of cigarettes below thirty bucks (at supermarkets) by paying off the people who come up with the tariffs.And the ice caps are melting, and the weather is getting freaky, and the free soup at corner cafeteria is getting more watery by the day.
And Gloria’s laughing with her goddamn mole all the way to the fucking Swiss banks…
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Dark Superman... riiiiiight...
So I promised myself that my next post will be another one of my well-loved pot shots at GMA… but I missed the train, and took too long before shooting at Gloria’s last S.O.N.A… (which I prefer to refer to as C.R.A.P., or Creatively Redundant Address of the President). And anything I say now would probably sound like a redux of every other commentary pouncing on GMA’s every audacious claim…
So… I pounce upon something totally insignificant to the world… or come to think of it… something less insignificant than GMA’s SONA and far more interesting…
The suits over at DC Comics think they found the alchemic formula for comic movies… “Hey, since the grim and gritty “DARK KNIGHT” made a ton of money and broke box office records, let’s make Supes all dark and gritty, too! We can make Lois Lane a whore, who was a rape victim!”
So… I pounce upon something totally insignificant to the world… or come to think of it… something less insignificant than GMA’s SONA and far more interesting…
The suits over at DC Comics think they found the alchemic formula for comic movies… “Hey, since the grim and gritty “DARK KNIGHT” made a ton of money and broke box office records, let’s make Supes all dark and gritty, too! We can make Lois Lane a whore, who was a rape victim!”
Please ignore that last sentence up there…
http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/poltergeist/news/1751089/weekly_ketchup_superman_gets_rebooted_poltergeist_gets_remade
noo-nee-noo-nee-noo…
oookay… assuming that you’re still reading this crap I’m spitting out and haven’t decided to dip further into the Rottentomatoes archives like I would’ve done, let’s get on with more…
One of the best Superman renditions of late is “All Star Superman,” where Grant Morrison and company go retro-sci-fi on Mr. Kent and remind us how a character like Superman with all his mythological baggage can not only be entertaining, but possibly even relevant… relevant in the sense that Superman can return to being a vehicle for the fantastic, the cosmic, and the strange… something where disbelief is not required for one to be entertained, but it will be overlooked in favor of chin-rubbing, provoked thoughts and even a slap on one’s own forehead to cheer such imagination for imagination’s sake…
http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/poltergeist/news/1751089/weekly_ketchup_superman_gets_rebooted_poltergeist_gets_remade
noo-nee-noo-nee-noo…
oookay… assuming that you’re still reading this crap I’m spitting out and haven’t decided to dip further into the Rottentomatoes archives like I would’ve done, let’s get on with more…
One of the best Superman renditions of late is “All Star Superman,” where Grant Morrison and company go retro-sci-fi on Mr. Kent and remind us how a character like Superman with all his mythological baggage can not only be entertaining, but possibly even relevant… relevant in the sense that Superman can return to being a vehicle for the fantastic, the cosmic, and the strange… something where disbelief is not required for one to be entertained, but it will be overlooked in favor of chin-rubbing, provoked thoughts and even a slap on one’s own forehead to cheer such imagination for imagination’s sake…
"....Grant Morrison and company go retro-sci-fi on Mr. Kent and remind us how a character like Superman with all his mythological baggage can not only be entertaining, but possibly even relevant…"
http://golangco.blogspot.com/2008/02/delayed-book-review-all-star-superman.html
Dear Mr. DC Suits… I mean… come on… Superman in a darkly hued suit, purplish hues, flying through to supposedly save the day… man, if someone dressed up like a faggot dominatrix in purple leather comes flying at me while I’m hanging on for dear life on a building ledge, I’d fucking let go…!
Call Grant Morrison for the next Superman movie… Heck, if I had the man’s number, I’d call him for you just to save the world from what already sounds like a lousy movie…
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Movie Review: WALL-E
More Human than Some Movies with Humans
It’s a love story. It’s a sci-fi movie. It’s a comedy. It’s a cartoon. It’s an environmental campaign. It’s a damn good movie.
Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes… and finally, yes.
After two weeks of noodling the wifey for time to catch WALL-E, we finally brave our lack of sleep and drive off to the Powerplant to catch Pixar’s latest dish. I’m pretty sure that at this point, nobody needs a synopsis on the movie (it’s on Wikipedia, people…). Come to think of it, nobody needs my review, but what the f… I’m writing it anyways…
WALL-E’s very plot heart is actually the classic poor, lonely but street-smart boy meets sophisticated, disciplined, upper class female. In this case, they’re separated not by bank accounts or social class, but by centuries of technological upgrading.
The character designs are simply fantasmic. WALL-E (Waste-Allotment-Load-Lifter-Earth-class) is clunky, yet seems practically functional. A robot that can express more emotions than President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo, and is so lonely he counts a cockroach as a friend. Of course, in the case of Gloria M.A., she MARRIED the cockroach… oh wait… she’s an insect, too… so no real issue there… anyways… back to the movie…
EVE (Extraterrestrial Vegetation Evaluator) on the other hand, is simply gorgeous. I won’t be surprised if EVE was designed by the same guys Steve Jobs has chained to his mad design laboratory… from the sleek, white translucent shell that allows LED’s to shine through and/or subtly pulsate, to the hovering body parts, to the subtle expressions on the illuminated eyes on the tinted face-plate, EVE’s design is both coldly futuristic, yet warmly expressive at the same time.
The bleak, but threateningly possible depiction of Earth’s future barren state from too much consumer waste is nicely juxtaposed against the beautiful optimism expressed by practically every character at the sight of the plant… which almost sort of tells viewers that we can keep laying waste on the Earth long as there’s a single goddamn plant we can use to green up the planet.
"...[WALL-E] can express more emotions than President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo, and is so lonely he counts a cockroach as a friend. Of course, in the case of Gloria M.A., she MARRIED the cockroach…"
It’s a love story. It’s a sci-fi movie. It’s a comedy. It’s a cartoon. It’s an environmental campaign. It’s a damn good movie.
Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes… and finally, yes.
After two weeks of noodling the wifey for time to catch WALL-E, we finally brave our lack of sleep and drive off to the Powerplant to catch Pixar’s latest dish. I’m pretty sure that at this point, nobody needs a synopsis on the movie (it’s on Wikipedia, people…). Come to think of it, nobody needs my review, but what the f… I’m writing it anyways…
WALL-E’s very plot heart is actually the classic poor, lonely but street-smart boy meets sophisticated, disciplined, upper class female. In this case, they’re separated not by bank accounts or social class, but by centuries of technological upgrading.
The character designs are simply fantasmic. WALL-E (Waste-Allotment-Load-Lifter-Earth-class) is clunky, yet seems practically functional. A robot that can express more emotions than President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo, and is so lonely he counts a cockroach as a friend. Of course, in the case of Gloria M.A., she MARRIED the cockroach… oh wait… she’s an insect, too… so no real issue there… anyways… back to the movie…
EVE (Extraterrestrial Vegetation Evaluator) on the other hand, is simply gorgeous. I won’t be surprised if EVE was designed by the same guys Steve Jobs has chained to his mad design laboratory… from the sleek, white translucent shell that allows LED’s to shine through and/or subtly pulsate, to the hovering body parts, to the subtle expressions on the illuminated eyes on the tinted face-plate, EVE’s design is both coldly futuristic, yet warmly expressive at the same time.
The bleak, but threateningly possible depiction of Earth’s future barren state from too much consumer waste is nicely juxtaposed against the beautiful optimism expressed by practically every character at the sight of the plant… which almost sort of tells viewers that we can keep laying waste on the Earth long as there’s a single goddamn plant we can use to green up the planet.
"...[WALL-E] can express more emotions than President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo, and is so lonely he counts a cockroach as a friend. Of course, in the case of Gloria M.A., she MARRIED the cockroach…"
As a formerly-ripped-but-now-pudgy guy, I find the depiction of obese, nigh immobile, tech-dependent blobs as future humans all too possible. With the world’s obesity rate, especially in developed countries simply going through the roof… http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Bmi30chart.png Writers Andrew Stantonand and Jim Reardon totally did their homework on that one…
I absolutely loved the chase scenes… loved how they never the humans steal the show… love how WALL-E reminded me of Johnny 5 (remember him?) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6jaWPQ3Z7FE , loved how the Axiom reminded me of the Starship Enterprise, and most of all…
I loved how WALL-E’s ninety-seven minutes had more emotion and humanity than all the three Star Wars prequels put together…
Good night and thank you for reading through this crap tonight...
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Leaving on a Jet Plane (Not Me)
WARNING: MUSHY POST AHEAD...Tuesday. First official day with that desk empty and clean. Yep, Art Director Extraodinaire Michael A. Lorenzo was definitely out of the building.
No real fanfare, no sobbing, no loud drinking and no farewell partying… it was almost as if there wasn’t a real goodbye. But hey, I kid myself.
Six and a half years later, Mike remains the most consistent performer on the Maverick team. There were two other people apart from myself whom I built this company around, and he was one of them. Mike was everyone’s favorite. From the account executives, down to the admin staff… except for the occasional idiot who thought he could rival Mike’s skill and professionalism with his bravado. Mike was everyone’s favorite, and no one had a hard time seeing why… but hey, every morning he wakes up, something tells him he has to go to Dubai…
So here’s that simple nod of utmost respect, gratitude, and hopefully friendship of a true kind that will last for years to come. From me to him.
Cheers, bro… may you plant good roots in Dubai… and yes, I definitely wouldn’t mind you putting up Maverick Dubai. Like I said, you own the name as much as I do.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Guest Concert Review: Tony Hadley (GOLD)
Ladies, Gentlemen, and everyone in between... i proudly present what i hope will be the first of many... I bring to you BROKEN RECORD's first guest blog!!!
Delivered by a first rate music lover, a vocalist par excellence, a one-time showband frontman, a Kundirana veteran, and a member of an almost-was boyband called Soul Purpose back in... dammit, i forgot when... and even he has chosen to forget that episode in his life...
Should have been the linchpin of what became Jeremiah (THAT boyband...)... the inimitable (assuming anyone wants to imitate him in the first place)... Mr. Carlo Emmanuel Rodriquez Balingit!!!
**********
Tarnished "GOLD"
by Carlo E.R. Balingit
Before anything else, I would like to warn you that I can’t write for shit and stuff I do get to jot down always end up a tad skewed, largely due to the fact that I just write things as they come to my head. You are reading this horrendous essay simply because the blog’s owner asked me to contribute my experience hoping that this initial contribution will start a chain of other contributors filing up his blogspot and hence turning his little corner of the cyberspace into a e-pop culture phenomenon… blah-blah… dream on…
So here goes the tragedy.
Pre-e-e-esenting, Gold! Ex-Spandau Ballet Tony Hadley (and John Keeble) in concert at the Araneta Coliseum… Ok, ok, gig’s up, I admit I belong to the minority that is anti Duran-Duran and pro Spandau Ballet, so shoot me for being TRUE (pun intended).
Really looked forward to this show, after all, unlike the last time Tony Hadley was in town, this time he had John Keeble with him (in idiot math that sums up to ¼ of Spandau Ballet.). Like, hell yeah, that’s as close to the full band as it’s ever going to get—me thinks.
Arrived at the venue a little under 7pm, since I thought that parking was going to be a bitch. Rumaged through the concession stands for snacks, and snuggly tucked myself ever-so-firmly on my seat… and waited…
and waited…
and waited…
and waited…
Then miraculously at a little over 8:40pm the house lights were turned down and the front act started their, uhm, act. Can’t seem to remember the band’s name, but what I do remember is that they sang the much personally despised PCSO radio/tv jingle. Seeing as this irritating form of so-called lyrical prowess is what made them famous (duh?), they covered that as well as a song entitled Miss, and a not so bad instrumental number… so ends act one.
Act two (yes, there’s a second act.). Now the second act was a bit interesting. This band of merry men go by the name Sabado Boys (Saturday Boys). Former front men for various local bands who have made a mark In the local band scene. These people being Luke Mijares, Paolo whatever, Mike Chan, DJ Mike, The Frestyle guy who looks like Aiza Suigerra and Jimmy “no-talent-whatsoever-so-help- me-god” Bondoc. As much as I’d like to dwell on how most of these guys were actually good and that Jimmy Bondoc deserves a spot in musical hell, I would rather just save that for some other time and move on to the main act… (Jimmy Bondoc deserves a spot in musical hell!)
After both acts, the venue is once again shrouded by darkness. As the crowd clap and hiss waiting for the main act to start. There was a 2 second chord struck by the back-ups, which the crowd thought was the beginning of the show, but unfortunately it was only a sound check conducted on the mikes… the audience once again begin their hissing. I mean I could relate, I’m getting tired of waiting myself—haha.
Then, small blue penlights start running all over the stage, as the hissing change into cheer. Then “BAM” vocals sound in unison with the instruments and the hair on the back of my neck. Then as the music played I saw Spandau’s front man take the limelight… I gasp and tell my star-struck self—damn he’s old.. and damn he’s fat. Now it’s sad since my brain isn’t cooperating with me and I can’t remember what the opening act was… was it She’s highly Strung or Lifeline? Honestly it didn’t matter I was re-living my musical teen years and that was enjoyment enough. Tony then took a break to greet the crowd and thank everyone for the very warm welcome with thank you, salamat, cheers capping each and every spiel.
I’d like to say that each song was delivered the way I remembered them but in truth Mr. Hadley improvised on the stanzas, which for me gave the song a breathe of new life. He covered all the Spandau songs like True, Round and Round, and my personal favorite Through the Barricades. Personally, though old, I think he has vocally matured well, technique has improved drastically, not that he needed improvement.
What came unexpectedly for me was when he started covering songs by other artists. U2’s “With or Without You”, a Duran-Duran song that I just can’t remember, an excellent version of Mike Cohn’s “Walking on Memphis”. Which started me thinking that “normally” once an artist starts filling in his show with songs that he never covered before, doesn’t it only show, if not prove, that his career fell so short that he does not even have enough material for a 90 minute show. Well, regardless of the fact, Hadley still “has it”.
Mr. Hadley improvised on the stanzas, which for me gave the song a breathe of new life.
Now going back on the “old” comment… lemme move-on to John Keeble. Now the guys was more wrinkled and bald but man, the way he assaulted those drums you’d think he was 18. Truly, Keeble proved that he can still hack it.
The show was closed with Gold as the crowd cheered to one of the most famous Spandau Ballet songs, and was later followed by two encore numbers that I have never heard.
All-in-all, the show was “enjoyable”. It brought a lot of people back into a time they well remembered, and I think… or would like to think, that above everything else that’s what music is really all about. Making each person lay back and relish our own lives personal GOLD (again, pun intended.).
********
I would like to thank Carlo Balingit for sharing his time, creativity and endless love for gay music. I hope you guys enjoyed the above review as much I tried... (kidding!) it was great!
********
Delivered by a first rate music lover, a vocalist par excellence, a one-time showband frontman, a Kundirana veteran, and a member of an almost-was boyband called Soul Purpose back in... dammit, i forgot when... and even he has chosen to forget that episode in his life...
Should have been the linchpin of what became Jeremiah (THAT boyband...)... the inimitable (assuming anyone wants to imitate him in the first place)... Mr. Carlo Emmanuel Rodriquez Balingit!!!
**********
Tarnished "GOLD"by Carlo E.R. Balingit
Before anything else, I would like to warn you that I can’t write for shit and stuff I do get to jot down always end up a tad skewed, largely due to the fact that I just write things as they come to my head. You are reading this horrendous essay simply because the blog’s owner asked me to contribute my experience hoping that this initial contribution will start a chain of other contributors filing up his blogspot and hence turning his little corner of the cyberspace into a e-pop culture phenomenon… blah-blah… dream on…
So here goes the tragedy.
Pre-e-e-esenting, Gold! Ex-Spandau Ballet Tony Hadley (and John Keeble) in concert at the Araneta Coliseum… Ok, ok, gig’s up, I admit I belong to the minority that is anti Duran-Duran and pro Spandau Ballet, so shoot me for being TRUE (pun intended).
Really looked forward to this show, after all, unlike the last time Tony Hadley was in town, this time he had John Keeble with him (in idiot math that sums up to ¼ of Spandau Ballet.). Like, hell yeah, that’s as close to the full band as it’s ever going to get—me thinks.
Arrived at the venue a little under 7pm, since I thought that parking was going to be a bitch. Rumaged through the concession stands for snacks, and snuggly tucked myself ever-so-firmly on my seat… and waited…
and waited…
and waited…
and waited…
Then miraculously at a little over 8:40pm the house lights were turned down and the front act started their, uhm, act. Can’t seem to remember the band’s name, but what I do remember is that they sang the much personally despised PCSO radio/tv jingle. Seeing as this irritating form of so-called lyrical prowess is what made them famous (duh?), they covered that as well as a song entitled Miss, and a not so bad instrumental number… so ends act one.
Act two (yes, there’s a second act.). Now the second act was a bit interesting. This band of merry men go by the name Sabado Boys (Saturday Boys). Former front men for various local bands who have made a mark In the local band scene. These people being Luke Mijares, Paolo whatever, Mike Chan, DJ Mike, The Frestyle guy who looks like Aiza Suigerra and Jimmy “no-talent-whatsoever-so-help- me-god” Bondoc. As much as I’d like to dwell on how most of these guys were actually good and that Jimmy Bondoc deserves a spot in musical hell, I would rather just save that for some other time and move on to the main act… (Jimmy Bondoc deserves a spot in musical hell!)
After both acts, the venue is once again shrouded by darkness. As the crowd clap and hiss waiting for the main act to start. There was a 2 second chord struck by the back-ups, which the crowd thought was the beginning of the show, but unfortunately it was only a sound check conducted on the mikes… the audience once again begin their hissing. I mean I could relate, I’m getting tired of waiting myself—haha.
Then, small blue penlights start running all over the stage, as the hissing change into cheer. Then “BAM” vocals sound in unison with the instruments and the hair on the back of my neck. Then as the music played I saw Spandau’s front man take the limelight… I gasp and tell my star-struck self—damn he’s old.. and damn he’s fat. Now it’s sad since my brain isn’t cooperating with me and I can’t remember what the opening act was… was it She’s highly Strung or Lifeline? Honestly it didn’t matter I was re-living my musical teen years and that was enjoyment enough. Tony then took a break to greet the crowd and thank everyone for the very warm welcome with thank you, salamat, cheers capping each and every spiel.I’d like to say that each song was delivered the way I remembered them but in truth Mr. Hadley improvised on the stanzas, which for me gave the song a breathe of new life. He covered all the Spandau songs like True, Round and Round, and my personal favorite Through the Barricades. Personally, though old, I think he has vocally matured well, technique has improved drastically, not that he needed improvement.
What came unexpectedly for me was when he started covering songs by other artists. U2’s “With or Without You”, a Duran-Duran song that I just can’t remember, an excellent version of Mike Cohn’s “Walking on Memphis”. Which started me thinking that “normally” once an artist starts filling in his show with songs that he never covered before, doesn’t it only show, if not prove, that his career fell so short that he does not even have enough material for a 90 minute show. Well, regardless of the fact, Hadley still “has it”.
Mr. Hadley improvised on the stanzas, which for me gave the song a breathe of new life.
Now going back on the “old” comment… lemme move-on to John Keeble. Now the guys was more wrinkled and bald but man, the way he assaulted those drums you’d think he was 18. Truly, Keeble proved that he can still hack it.
The show was closed with Gold as the crowd cheered to one of the most famous Spandau Ballet songs, and was later followed by two encore numbers that I have never heard.
All-in-all, the show was “enjoyable”. It brought a lot of people back into a time they well remembered, and I think… or would like to think, that above everything else that’s what music is really all about. Making each person lay back and relish our own lives personal GOLD (again, pun intended.).
********
I would like to thank Carlo Balingit for sharing his time, creativity and endless love for gay music. I hope you guys enjoyed the above review as much I tried... (kidding!) it was great!
********
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Movie Review: A Very Special Love
Fluffy, Cheesy, But Thankfully Not Corny...I did something totally uncool. In fact, I’d like to believe that it was so uncool, it has come around full circle and actually become cool…
I took the wifey to see John Lloyd Cruz and Sarah Geronimo’s “A Very Special Love.” (See what good advertising can do…!)
Perky-cute regular girl-next-door meets nasty-mannered rich boy dreamboat, they grow on one another, they hook up, they find something to fight about, they make up, and they live happily ever fucking after… So don’t expect to be totally wowed plot-wise… (hey, who does…?) The plot however, thin as it was did serve as an excellent vehicle for the obvious chemistry between Mr. Cruz and Miss Geronimo. And while it wasn’t Pulitzer material, it wasn’t too cheesy to the point of pukability either. And the stars make the hundred and ten something minutes cruise by quickly. Cheers to Director Cathy Garcia Molina...
I took the wifey to see John Lloyd Cruz and Sarah Geronimo’s “A Very Special Love.” (See what good advertising can do…!)
Perky-cute regular girl-next-door meets nasty-mannered rich boy dreamboat, they grow on one another, they hook up, they find something to fight about, they make up, and they live happily ever fucking after… So don’t expect to be totally wowed plot-wise… (hey, who does…?) The plot however, thin as it was did serve as an excellent vehicle for the obvious chemistry between Mr. Cruz and Miss Geronimo. And while it wasn’t Pulitzer material, it wasn’t too cheesy to the point of pukability either. And the stars make the hundred and ten something minutes cruise by quickly. Cheers to Director Cathy Garcia Molina...
"...whatever [Sarah] may lack in the physical hotness department, she more than makes up for with some effortlessly sunny charm that makes you want to root for her..."
So John Lloyd is now finally given a “mean guy that the nice girl is after” role as opposed to his usual “nice guy who eventually gets the girl…” roles, and he pulls it off. Greatly in part because the eternally affable, likable and totally accessible Sarah G. is a half or so step down the food chain in the looks department, especially playing off John Lloyd’s mestizo scowl. I mean, imagine Bea Alonzo in Sarah’s perky middle class girl role and you can easily see that it won’t work with her rather upper class looks…
Now I admit I don’t tune in to ABS-CBN often enough to consider myself a worthy assessor of Sarah Geronimo’s talent, but I must say that her starring self-effacingly endearing turn in this rom-com exhibits her potential to turn herself into our less glamorous version of Cameron Diaz. The main difference of course is that Sarah doesn’t have Diaz’s supermodel looks and figure, but she remains attractive in her own “cute-but-not-drop-dead-gorgeous” girl next door way. And whatever she may lack in the physical hotness department, she more than makes up for with some effortlessly sunny charm that makes you want to root for her even in the scenes where she makes an absolute doofus of herself…
But while the movie lights itself up whenever the leads get together, the rest of the talented cast provide very little but talking wallpaper. But one didn’t catch the movie to see Rowell Santiago pretend to have a straight guy swagger. Halfway through chuckling and even occasionally laughing out loud at the movie, one will begin to notice something almost strange… the movie’s funny without being slapstick!
I suppose my strongest beef with the movie is the stupid title, which was most likely chosen to also promote Sarah Geronimo’s new album of cover songs that Viva acquired the rights to. I mean, guys… a movie’s title helps in a movie’s cool factor. Not in this case, people. “A Very Special Love,” c’mon!!! Geez…
Without any apprehension, shame, or pretension, I highly recommend the movie. It’s still showing, people.
Now I admit I don’t tune in to ABS-CBN often enough to consider myself a worthy assessor of Sarah Geronimo’s talent, but I must say that her starring self-effacingly endearing turn in this rom-com exhibits her potential to turn herself into our less glamorous version of Cameron Diaz. The main difference of course is that Sarah doesn’t have Diaz’s supermodel looks and figure, but she remains attractive in her own “cute-but-not-drop-dead-gorgeous” girl next door way. And whatever she may lack in the physical hotness department, she more than makes up for with some effortlessly sunny charm that makes you want to root for her even in the scenes where she makes an absolute doofus of herself…
But while the movie lights itself up whenever the leads get together, the rest of the talented cast provide very little but talking wallpaper. But one didn’t catch the movie to see Rowell Santiago pretend to have a straight guy swagger. Halfway through chuckling and even occasionally laughing out loud at the movie, one will begin to notice something almost strange… the movie’s funny without being slapstick!
I suppose my strongest beef with the movie is the stupid title, which was most likely chosen to also promote Sarah Geronimo’s new album of cover songs that Viva acquired the rights to. I mean, guys… a movie’s title helps in a movie’s cool factor. Not in this case, people. “A Very Special Love,” c’mon!!! Geez…
Without any apprehension, shame, or pretension, I highly recommend the movie. It’s still showing, people.
P.S.
somebody fire the stylist who gave Sarah that stupid oldish hairdo... didn't do the fledgling movie star any favors...
P.P.S.
this flick proves that one does not need to wait for the Metro Manila Film Festival to make (and see) a decent, entertaining Pinoy movie...
Friday, August 08, 2008
Concert Review: Rick Astley Live at the Araneta Coliseum
Hopelessly crying for help whenever you need a strong strong man who will never let you down... (whew...!)
For some odd reason, many find the concept of a Rick Astley concert snicker-worthy. (and I don’t mean the candy bar.) But my skin is pretty damn thick. I begged for tickets for the August 1 one-night concert, got them, got fucking rick-rolled, and had a good time. Faggot jokes be damned!
Now despite my personally horrendous attempts at any semblance of dancing, I will joyfully admit to being a regular at the Hyatt Terraces’ Gold Mine disco back in the eighties. Prior to the earthquake, the Gold Mine was the “place” place, if you get what I mean. And I had my fill of Rick Astley, Basia, and a few other eighties staples. Thus, the Astley concert was truly a throwback to good old times.
The concert was supposedly scheduled at 8pm. But in typical Pinoy fashion, Mr. Astley showed up at 9:30 amidst chants of “Ro-De-Rick…” (referring to Dick Paulate, the self-proclaimed “Rick Astley of the Philippines,” who apparently WAS in the house…)
Now most acts or artists will have a nice set list, with their hits sprinkled in paces to keep the show’s excitement up. So it says quite a bit about Mr. Astley when he can come up with a full set list of hit songs sprinkled with a couple or so relatively minor songs.
There was a serviceable front act from Bacolod, who had a not-so-star-looking bass player who had a much better voice than the lead singer who unfortunately looked better than him. And they had a supposed guest singer lady who probably didn’t sound so bad if got past the ridiculous a-gogo dancer outfit that had places where tits were supposed to be…
"...every song selection felt like a comfortable pair of old shoes. Old shoes that may stink a bit if you get close enough to sniff them, but you’d pull them on anyways..."
Mr. Astley swaggers out with his stiff dancing and kicks off the real show with his second number one hit, “Together Forever.” He then followed right through with the slightly smaller hit “A Strong Strong Man,” where he flubbed the timing into the last chorus, then shut up for the rest of the song to try and regain his bearings (and probably his dignity). In full acknowledgement, Mr. Astley makes a joke about jetlag.
As expected, one does not find three-minute spells of familiarity throughout the concert since almost all of the songs are familiar to the rather aging audience (present company included), and every song selection felt like a comfortable pair of old shoes. Old shoes that may stink a bit if you get close enough to sniff them, but you’d pull them on anyways, be thankful your feet don’t have noses and be off.
All the cynics can laugh all they want, but I’ll take Rick Astley’s handful of certified hits, and less than a dozen or so smaller hits than pityingly yawning through a concert where Keith Martin’s singular hit “Because of You” had to be stretched to fill in almost 15 minutes. Or cringingly brave through 10 minutes of Jimmy Bondoc’s ridiculous pseudo-soulful gritting and eventual massacre of his one legitimate hit “Let Me Be The One,” which I actually like on a musical level if he didn’t have to howl through it like an over-excited hyena pretending to be serious...
"...then there he was back on stage… RODERICK FUCKING PAULATE… the has-been who always was an almost-was, but for all his over-modulated singing, never really got past the fag-in-the-closet reputation he had..."
Other numbers performed on the earlier half were (in sequence): “When I Fall in Love,” “The Love Has Gone,” “She Wants to Dance With Me,” and “Don’t Say Goodbye Girl.”
At first, I noticed a very slight reduction in the brilliance of Rick’s trademark baritone on the first few songs, and simply attributed it to age. Then he warmed into his self-penned “Hold Me in Your Arms,” where he dished out a lot of heart and did his darnedest best to sound just like the record with a few curls here and there if only to remind us that it was a live performance. Screw age, this one he sang from the heart, and damn, he sounded good as ever…
Ole’ Rick then grooves into the minor hit “Everytime,” steps things back up with “Take Me to Your Heart,” (where he went all amnesiac on the lyrics yet again… Rick invites the crowd to fill in the church choir parts in “Cry For Help.” Following that up with the ballad “Hopelessly,” his cover of the Motown classic “Ain’t too Proud to Beg,” then “My Arms Keep Missing You,” where he invited a member of the audience to sing karaoke with him, then supposedly finishing up the show with “Whenever You Need Somebody.”
Now after hinting about a supposedly special guest somewhere at the early part of the show, Mr. Astley finally drops the bomb on the crowd almost halfway into his list. Declaring “Roderick, I have six more songs, then you’re up!”
Obviously, there was going to be an encore. I mean, Rick obviously wouldn’t “let us down,” right? If you’ve read this far into this boring entry, you will notice that I haven’t mentioned Rick’s first and biggest hit, which also spawned “rick-rolling.”
Then there he was back on stage… RODERICK FUCKING PAULATE… the has-been who always was an almost-was, but for all his over-modulated singing, never really got past the fag-in-the-closet reputation he had. But hey, I’ve always heard Dick’s a nice guy/gay. A nice fellow people didn’t say anything bad about, except for the fact that he used to really profess to being a straight man… yeah… sure…
So there he was on stage, and Rick Astley gamely picks up a guitar and plays alongside him, while marveling at how Dick remembered the words so well. Even exclaiming at some point that Roderick “should’ve been up [there] all night!”
I took my own video, but a lot of other better videos are around to document this…uh… major… err… event… here’s a “good” copy…
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pLq_T-3z9co
Good thing, Rick did his biggest song again with the band and himself at the mic. And no, the concert “didn’t let me down” at all…
Sunday, August 03, 2008
The Canine Mafia, Part 3 (The Passing of the Amazon)
Joni (shown in photo) holds the distinction of being the first of our poochies to take her ride down the so-called Rainbow Bridge after Marge’s conception and eventual birth, as well as through the course of my blogging. ( http://www.rainbowbridge.org/ or try googling “rainbow bridge”…)The above point is significant to me for a couple of reasons. First, with Marge already around, it becomes an interesting study on how we will feel about the loss of one of our supposedly “substitute children” now that an actual human infant descendant has been produced (a.k.a. Marge). The other point is that Joni will be the first canine recipient of an online eulogy here at my fledgling blog…
Both points can and will be addressed via the eulogy…
I’ll start off by saying that Joni is also the last of the children of the union that was Stolich II (the patriarch), and Soda (the late matriarch). The other remaining member of their bloodline apart from the aging patriarch is Jennifer, who is the child of Soda and JM, who is the last born child of the patriarch and the late matriarch. So oddly enough, Jennifer was a child of canine incest…
Joni’s most remarkable trait was that she was a friend to all the other dogs. She absolutely didn’t mind playing the lackey or henchwoman. Given her size (hence, the nickname “Amazona”), she could have bullied the others easily. But it was more than amusing to find her bringing chunks of food up to bed to a young, lazy Jennifer way back, while Jennifer just kept on being a bitch to everybody, including her.
Joni was never demanding. She didn’t make a fuss when she wasn’t brought to the other room where Baby Marge was, didn’t bark her head off just to demand and get attention. But was always happy and grateful for whatever attention she did get. It was both what made her endearing, but admittedly a tad short-changed. Sometimes, it was all we could do to just pick up the other more demanding ones so they’d shut up. Joni was content to just keep hanging around, and followed the others in whatever game everyone else was playing.One of the most memorable movie moments on my list is from Brad Pitt and Sir Anthony Hopkins’ “Meet Joe Black.” When Sir Anthony was about to go off with ole’ Brad, he tried to stammer an apology to his elder daughter played by Marcia Gay Harden, and her character’s answer was just plain beautiful. Here’s a transcript I found online:
Harden: After all, you've been a wonderful father.
Hopkins: Yeah, well, I haven't been the father to you that, uh...
Harden: That you've been to Susan? (Susan is the other daughter played by Claire Forlani)
Hopkins: I wasn't going to say that…
Harden: …Oh, God. More than that, Daddy, more than that.I've felt loved, and that's all that matters. So, never mind favorites. You're allowed to have one.
The point is, you've been mine.
* * * * *
For what it’s worth, I’ll admit Joni wasn’t our favorite, but we loved her like we did everyone else.
And the simple answer is no. No, losing Joni doesn’t hurt any less. Baby Marge has affected every aspect of our lives in a bright and sunny way, but having her didn’t mean our dogs were any less precious. And my wife still cried. (Yeah, so did I…)
And we still miss her. Just like we still miss Stolich I, Soda, JM, Joey, Doggie Marge, Jumbo, Princess, and Bambi.
* * * * *
We didn’t know if the ehrlickia came before or after Joni was copulated by Happy (the undersized newbie poodle…) and may have had or caused the miscarried pregnancy that started all the bleeding. But it seems that everyone in the house was struck with it, and now every dog in the house is on doxycycline.
After a month of the antibiotic, we drive everyone back to the Makati Dog & Cat Hospital near Rockwell, and hopefully, the blood numbers will be better…
Friday, July 25, 2008
The One-Third Life Crisis and Other Things Smart-Ass Therapists Skip…
Okay, so I’ve got think up something new for my blog profile…At a slightly ripening age of thirty five, I definitely no longer qualify for the term “Quarter Life Crisis.” Not that I’m having a crisis at all… or am I? Which leads me to wonder if psycho-therapists, a.k.a. “shrinks” only have the Mid-Life Crisis labeled after the recently labeled “Quarter Life Crisis,” which they sooo creatively coined into the acronym ‘QLC” (it’s in WIKIPEDIA!), does that mean I can’t have a crisis in between?
Let’s assume first that at this age, I am having a crisis of some sort… should I call it the “One-Third Life Crisis?” But that doesn’t sound anywhere near as cool or hip as the prefix “Quarter-Life,” does it? Should I assume to consider myself having a “minor” crisis between the “major” milestone crises? But who has a right to call my crisis “minor”? Assuming I am having a crisis in the first place…
So what is a “Something-Life Crisis” anyways…?
I’ve done my share of looking around, asking around, reading around, and yes, reflecting… sounds deep, huh? But seriously, I have the answer… okay, I have AN answer, not THE answer. The Iglesia ni Cristo guys claim to have that… no, wait… every devout Catholic claims that, too… and so do the nice Muslims who sold me compressed dibidee porno that was so pixelized that pubic hairs look like funky Lego blocks… no wait, that was JAPANESE porno… anyways… yeah, they all have THE answers… oh, and so do the BAD Muslims, who hop on board airplanes while probably thinking that Kamikaze should be considered an Iraqi word…
So therefore, I do NOT have THE answer, just AN answer… yep, I have my own version to what these crazy-ass crises are… here’s my skinny…
The QUARTER-LIFE CRISIS:
WHEN…
The alleged Quarter-Life Crisis age coverage is pretty brief… usually somewhere in the mid-twenties… Usually, after a couple of years of supposedly hard work at some company, a young person thinks he/she has become sooo the man (or woman), and proceeds to have delusions of future grandeur… or in some cases, or most cases here in the Philippines, one finds one’s self having spent a couple of very professionally formative years toiling away at a call center for the easy money, then coming back out into reality with the only personality development being an ersatz Southern American drawl often marred by still-poor grammar… developed skills? Uhm… does becoming ergonomically adapted to wearing a headset count? Does creative insomnia count? Does the superpower to stare at a computer monitor pretending to do something world-changing count? No, no and no.
HOW…
The amusing thing about all this is that nowadays, more than ever, one’s chosen college degree does not necessarily predicate what one’s future profession will be. There are degree holders in computer science, who have pretty much any industry to choose from, there are licensed medical technicians who have become very successful real estate salesmen, or in my case, architecture graduates who have become advertising executives. Even lawyers, who have eventually dedicated their time and lives to professional writing. And many other odd transitions…
"...nowadays, more than ever, one’s chosen college degree does not necessarily predicate what one’s future profession will be..."
Thus, after a couple to a handful of years in any field, the hapless young professional still has the delusion of having the supposed world for his/her taking… Which way to go? What other things to do? What other opportunities to try and grab? Not very different from a buffet at a five-star hotel, where cuisines of every sort are literally right under your nose. They look and smell damn good, heck, they probably ARE good. And you want to try everything. But a couple of platefuls later, while looking longingly at the different buffet lines, one starts feeling his belly is getting stuffed. Then at some point, one concedes that one cannot try everything today. Hopefully on another visit one will sample the Hong Kong section of the buffet, or get a spoonful of that Thai curry, and maybe try a different flavor of those home-made ice creams…
So many goddamn choices…
WHAT…
But life is not exactly like that buffet. One can’t come back another day to try something different for lunch. Your gut can only take in so much, then before you run to the john to shit and make more room, they’re getting ready to clear out the displays.
So you’ve had one plate, you have maybe a couple more plate refills left in life, so you mull real hard whether or not you want more roast beef. But damn, that curry smells good, huh? Which line to hit… which line to hit…?
To sum up the most common estimated questions at this juncture in one’s life:
- What to do next in one’s life?
- Which direction to head?
- What should I grow old doing?
- Should I jump the gun and buy that nice second hand car?
- Should I keep at this low-end job, or finally join the family business?
- Should I finally ditch my long time girlfriend and come out of the goddamn closet?
- Or should I marry propose to her to shut everyone up, but buy my time and marry her after a few years so I can suck a few more dicks before I start crying myself to sleep every night (I can still head out and play in Bangkok!)?
So, the so-called Quarter-Lifer then starts wondering what direction he/she must take in his/her life. This is usually coupled with wondering what one thinks one really wants to do with one’s life…
NOW WHAT…?
At this point in my life, I have concluded that the world isn’t an altogether mean place and that there are really no genuinely bad choices except for a life of crime or prostitution (okay, even that last one isn’t so bad. Heh heh…).
But the choice of direction is an external thing. And the only way to shut one’s self up in connection to what choices one has made is to settle on what identity one takes for the rest of his or her young life. The critical decisions are internal matters.
At the supposed quarter juncture of one’s life, the biggest skill one must learn is resilience. Resilience to live with the consequences of one’s actions, then subsequently make the most of the supposed chosen actions. The resilience to realize that, like the hotel buffet table, everything was carefully prepared in the kitchen and that everything is good.
So you didn’t leave room for dessert so you can taste that mouth-watering mango-kiwi crepe? That’s okay, dude. You still walk out of there full and un-hungry. That peppery beef burp and after-taste? Consequence for too much roast beef. Get a mint and stop looking back longingly at the crepe chef…
The MID-LIFE CRISIS:
WHEN…
One’s supposed Mid-Life Crisis usually starts creeping in sometime in one’s late forties, all the way to one’s late fifties. Personally, I find this just a wee bit odd, since most of us won’t live to see the age of ninety, one’s supposed “mid-life” should ideally pop up somewhere in the late thirties or early forties… but never mind that..
HOW…
With the pace of life raging on ever faster, one’s Mid-Life Crisis kicks in almost always by trigger shock. Usually by the departure of the last child from the family home, that tragic first night when they find they can’t get their weenie up whenever they want it to, or even the sudden realization that he or she will never be able to afford anything more than a second hand Japanese compact sedan or less…
WHAT…
Essentially, I find that people who experience what could be considered a Mid-Life Crisis find themselves bitching about a ton of things that ultimately boil down to the whatever mix of the following questions and/or phrases:
- “I haven’t done enough in my life, but I’m halfway through it…”
- “I’m really tired, but I’m nowhere near what I want my life to be…”
- “I’m going downhill from here on, am I leaving anything of worth behind…?”
- (for men) “can I take Viagra and not get a heart attack?”
- (for women) “can my husband take Viagra and not get a heart attack?”
So based on my own most humble and modest analysis, people who go through Mid-Life Crises basically find themselves questioning their level of achievement, and their own grim assessment of some sort of failed personal legacy…
NOW WHAT…
I don’t really know people do to get over this, and being only thirty five I can’t even pretend to have a good enough guess. But I somehow believe that many people do not get over this stage. Leading to the next level of classification called the GRUMPY OLD MAN or NASTY OLD HAG phases…
* * * * *
I do not hold a psychology degree, nor any degree that qualifies whatever I wrote above. But more than anything, these are what have kept me relatively sane and happy. Worked for me, hopefully, they will work for you, too…
Oh, except for that mid-life crisis part… personally haven’t gone through that yet…
skip this post...
Absolutely pointless post here... just getting something off my flabby chest...
One of the pillars of what is Maverick is on his way to Dubai to follow his girlfriend...
I suppose Mike Lorenzo was going sooner or later... but hey, it'll still smart a bit... good men like that don't come around too often. Neither do they stick around for 6.5 years... But all good things, as they say...
So that leaves room for new recruits... we decided we needed a junior visual guy to help Noddy ( Fernandez ) and the boys, and a junior writer to help out old Chinks (Chinky Pagdanganan nee Caisido)...
"Oh, we have room for a writer... someone try and get Liz back...!" this is a thought that I'm sure went through everyone's mind... See, Liz Villegas is/was (with all due respect to Chinks) probably the single purest writer I’ve ever worked with. A pure writer who made everything she did look so damn easy. Someone whose work I’ve never been good at critiquing since it’s usually better than whatever I can come up with. But she also came with a writer’s temperament… and onion skin… sooo… for the nth time, i was told the translated reply was “not in a million light years…” oh well…
One of the pillars of what is Maverick is on his way to Dubai to follow his girlfriend...
I suppose Mike Lorenzo was going sooner or later... but hey, it'll still smart a bit... good men like that don't come around too often. Neither do they stick around for 6.5 years... But all good things, as they say...
So that leaves room for new recruits... we decided we needed a junior visual guy to help Noddy ( Fernandez ) and the boys, and a junior writer to help out old Chinks (Chinky Pagdanganan nee Caisido)...
"Oh, we have room for a writer... someone try and get Liz back...!" this is a thought that I'm sure went through everyone's mind... See, Liz Villegas is/was (with all due respect to Chinks) probably the single purest writer I’ve ever worked with. A pure writer who made everything she did look so damn easy. Someone whose work I’ve never been good at critiquing since it’s usually better than whatever I can come up with. But she also came with a writer’s temperament… and onion skin… sooo… for the nth time, i was told the translated reply was “not in a million light years…” oh well…
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Marge in the City…
So it’s Sunday, and we’re back in the City… the Medical City, that is.
After a few days of her stereophonic coughing and a few drops of antibiotics, Marge’s increasingly labored breathing rate dictated that we bring her to the emergency room right away… so we did.
As I write this, Marge has received a drip of meds, an oxygen mask (which she hates), an oxygen gauge attached to her big toe (which glows a funky red…), and we’re camped in a room without a fridge.
Supposedly out of danger, but this is still a hospital, and we’re checked in…
* * * * *
For what it’s worth, I must commend the Medical City for having a separate pediatric section in their ER, and for having a very clean, calming and not too oppressive ER in general. Of course, the wifey just credits this to the hospital’s newness. But it was a total contrast to the smelly marketplace that was the Makati Med ER, the slightly better but obviously old and very eventful St. Luke’s ER, and the quite efficient, but obviously old and under-budgeted Capitol ER, where I screamed like a bitch while a resident jammed a needle into different places of my ripped palm…
Another bonus was me finding that the wifey and Marge were already being attended to when I got back up in the ER after parking the van.
The only thing that bothered me about the pediatric section was how fucking upbeat, sometimes cheerful and plain pleasant the staff was.
It was quite disconcerting. I was sweating like a pig on a treadmill, and asked the physician who attended to us and who received the instructions of Marge’s doctor, Dr. Delfin Santos, whether she seemed upbeat because Marge wasn’t in any real danger. She candidly and quite oddly replied that they are trained to act as though they are instinctively countering any potential panic situation. An answer of course, that somehow implies that I have something to panic about…
* * * * *
It’s funny how one has to be really good reading between the lines and forced pleasantries of medical professionals to patiently dig through to the truth sometimes. But I simply credit this to the fact that medical staff are still people. And as people, they don’t like delivering bad news. You have to pry their mouths open with some psychic crowbar.Hopefully, no false pleasantries here, and no need for crowbars…
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Movie Review: Hancock
Identity Crisis...
Last 2005, fresh prince Will Smith starred in what would have been called “The Last First Kiss” (or was it “The First Last Kiss”?)… either way, the title sucked.
So I think I remember reading somewhere that Mr. Smith “cool-ified” the movie’s title by naming it after the title character’s nickname. Resulting in the much cooler-sounding “Hitch,” and the even cooler $368 million in worldwide box office receipts.
This year, Mr. Smith would have starred in a movie called “Tonight, He Comes,” a title that vaguely sounds like an epic gay porno movie… again, thankfully, the gods of rewriting swooped down and saved Mr. Smith’s resume from having another potentially sucky title. “Tonight, He Comes” eventually ended up being called the less cringe-worthy “Hancock.” (which, come to think of it, also sounds like a gay porno movie… ah well…)
And yes, it has also grossed over $100 million and counting…
Now, about da movie…
My first bump of awareness in connection to “Hancock” was half a year ago on a blurb on one of those superhero geek sites I sometimes stumble into. I found my way to a YouTube trailer, and was absolutely hooked.
See, the trailer was damn funny, featuring very likely scenarios if ever there was an alcoholic superhero running around town. Reactions to Smith’s Hancock’s existence were well-written, and sounded like real people. And the occasional nod to William Katt’s crash-test dummy of a superhero in his 80’s TV serial is appreciated by a fan like me. I was expecting to see the movie and come out with my growing gut filled with gas from all the belly laughs. Oh, and I eventually found out that the picture-perfect Miss Charlize Theron was on board, too. Never mind Jason Bateman… not against him, but not a screaming fan… but Charlize… man… that’s a woman…
Last 2005, fresh prince Will Smith starred in what would have been called “The Last First Kiss” (or was it “The First Last Kiss”?)… either way, the title sucked.So I think I remember reading somewhere that Mr. Smith “cool-ified” the movie’s title by naming it after the title character’s nickname. Resulting in the much cooler-sounding “Hitch,” and the even cooler $368 million in worldwide box office receipts.
This year, Mr. Smith would have starred in a movie called “Tonight, He Comes,” a title that vaguely sounds like an epic gay porno movie… again, thankfully, the gods of rewriting swooped down and saved Mr. Smith’s resume from having another potentially sucky title. “Tonight, He Comes” eventually ended up being called the less cringe-worthy “Hancock.” (which, come to think of it, also sounds like a gay porno movie… ah well…)
And yes, it has also grossed over $100 million and counting…
Now, about da movie…
My first bump of awareness in connection to “Hancock” was half a year ago on a blurb on one of those superhero geek sites I sometimes stumble into. I found my way to a YouTube trailer, and was absolutely hooked.
See, the trailer was damn funny, featuring very likely scenarios if ever there was an alcoholic superhero running around town. Reactions to Smith’s Hancock’s existence were well-written, and sounded like real people. And the occasional nod to William Katt’s crash-test dummy of a superhero in his 80’s TV serial is appreciated by a fan like me. I was expecting to see the movie and come out with my growing gut filled with gas from all the belly laughs. Oh, and I eventually found out that the picture-perfect Miss Charlize Theron was on board, too. Never mind Jason Bateman… not against him, but not a screaming fan… but Charlize… man… that’s a woman…
Anyways… while I didn’t come out of the movie having laughed my ass off, I honestly didn’t feel like the wifey and I wasted our time… so it wasn’t totally a comedy, it was sometimes overtly dramatic, hardly romantic, far from being labeled “action-packed,” and too lame to be a sci-fi fantasy. So what was it, and what made it a decent hour and a half?
Simple. It was a Will Smith movie.
Somehow, while I didn’t really buy into Will Smith looking and acting like a bum… (I whispered to the wifey that I think they should’ve given Jamie Foxx a shot at this role)… But Will Smith manages to make almost anything look cool. Even Bagger Vance…
SPOILER ALERT…
The first half was pure fun. Pretty much everything on the YouTube trailer… it was a cool concept… bum of a superhero, drunk and accident-prone, lost, immortal, bored, been there, done that… and lonely.
Now the second half has been a lot of flack from all the reviews. But it isn’t necessarily bad, it just seemed like something from a totally different movie. It’s like between the first half and the second, the movie went through puberty… ah, waitaminit… it DID. Some bloke named Vincent Ngo threw that script titled “Tonight, He Comes” at Hollywood last 1996… been twelve years, and five directors later…
The second half, where Charlize Theron starts acting like a horny ex-wife who suddenly sees her probably equally horny (and very lonely) ex-husband present and totally available, is sometimes cheesy almost to the point of me wanting to go out and buy more popcorn… even though I still had some popcorn…
And yes, in the second half, Charlize Theron is revealed to be a horny ex-wife who suddenly finds her equally horny and very amnesiac ex-husband being friendly with her current hubby. And she tries to drive him out, because being near him will cause them to lose their powers and grow old and stuff… geez…
And then there’s the feeble attempt at producing some villains to go up against Mr. Hancock… pathetic characters, to say the least…
The ending was half-baked. But Will Smith is plain watchable, Jason Bateman (of Arrested Development fame) seemed to be trying too hard but not to the point of being annoying, and Charlize Theron remains a sight for sore eyes… so what the heck…
All things considered, I think Hancock had a solid enough premise to have been a very solid TV series. Slightly bumbling, easy-to-annoy, smart-ass superhero who doesn’t care much what the public thinks, but is really a good guy at heart… lots of stories there…
Judging from the box office reports, they might find “Hancock” worth doing a sequel for. Let’s hope they do it better than this.
Simple. It was a Will Smith movie.
Somehow, while I didn’t really buy into Will Smith looking and acting like a bum… (I whispered to the wifey that I think they should’ve given Jamie Foxx a shot at this role)… But Will Smith manages to make almost anything look cool. Even Bagger Vance…
SPOILER ALERT…
The first half was pure fun. Pretty much everything on the YouTube trailer… it was a cool concept… bum of a superhero, drunk and accident-prone, lost, immortal, bored, been there, done that… and lonely.Now the second half has been a lot of flack from all the reviews. But it isn’t necessarily bad, it just seemed like something from a totally different movie. It’s like between the first half and the second, the movie went through puberty… ah, waitaminit… it DID. Some bloke named Vincent Ngo threw that script titled “Tonight, He Comes” at Hollywood last 1996… been twelve years, and five directors later…
The second half, where Charlize Theron starts acting like a horny ex-wife who suddenly sees her probably equally horny (and very lonely) ex-husband present and totally available, is sometimes cheesy almost to the point of me wanting to go out and buy more popcorn… even though I still had some popcorn…
And yes, in the second half, Charlize Theron is revealed to be a horny ex-wife who suddenly finds her equally horny and very amnesiac ex-husband being friendly with her current hubby. And she tries to drive him out, because being near him will cause them to lose their powers and grow old and stuff… geez…
And then there’s the feeble attempt at producing some villains to go up against Mr. Hancock… pathetic characters, to say the least…
The ending was half-baked. But Will Smith is plain watchable, Jason Bateman (of Arrested Development fame) seemed to be trying too hard but not to the point of being annoying, and Charlize Theron remains a sight for sore eyes… so what the heck…
All things considered, I think Hancock had a solid enough premise to have been a very solid TV series. Slightly bumbling, easy-to-annoy, smart-ass superhero who doesn’t care much what the public thinks, but is really a good guy at heart… lots of stories there…Judging from the box office reports, they might find “Hancock” worth doing a sequel for. Let’s hope they do it better than this.
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