Art by Kurt Halsey
There are a couple of songs that remind me of you: your stubbly face close to mine, our ears plugged in to the same music with the soothing melody ringing in our heads and the meaningful lyrics winding through our minds, forming a similar story we never knew existed between us. You stole a few glances at me, before moving closer to breathe slowly down my neck and whisper softly into my ear. You told me these songs reminded you of me.

It was too close; you and me.

Admittedly, the only reason I watched the first movie was because of Shun Oguri. While I still can't decide on whether he is a good actor, I like that he always picks challenging roles for himself and has an astute preference towards supporting roles than leading characters in movies and dramas.

It is not surprising that he often plays a gangster, since his lanky frame and nonchalant demeanor make him a pretty convincing delinquent character, especially having been one himself when he was younger. However, his role in Crows Zero as Genji Takaya is a departure from his slightly more childish punk character, Uchi, in the popular television series Gokusen. The latter is more like a sidekick with a hotheaded personality that is complemented by his bombastic blond hair, while the former, though more aggressive, has a focused aim of conquering the notoriously violent and very much divided Suzuran All-Boys High School, a feat that no one has ever accomplished throughout the school's history, to prove to his Yakuza father that he is capable enough to inherit the Yakuza family. The first film features his strength as a fighter (a good one, but not the best) as well as his struggle to become a leader, and this sequel is no different.


The thing I like about Japanese (cult) films is that they are not afraid of cliches. Quite the contrary, they magnify stereotypes and exaggerate scenarios, which may make their films unrealistic, but also highly entertaining.

Superficially, Crows Zero II is all about blood and violence, but if I were to write an academic essay on it, like I did for Kamikaze Girls (2004), I would still have endless things to talk about, such as the film's eccentric director Takashi Miike and his penchant for sex and violence, the popular topic of high school delinquents in Japan and why a supposedly conservative society like Japan doesn't censor such films and dramas despite their potential ability to influence Japanese youths, or even argue that the actual theme of this movie is not violence, but the spirit of "live fast, die young" that the director believes is what Japanese youths ought to pursue.






Despite the seemingly lawless and vicious brawls, certain moralities are still upheld in the movie, and it is because of these principles that make me deem this film not as a bad influence to youths, but in fact, a positive regulation to a delinquent's behaviour.

For example, like other Japanese dramas and films that feature high school derelicts, this movie not only discourages the use of weapons, but also puts down those who rely on weapons to win a fight and regards them as cowards. Even though winning is essential, hand-to-hand combat is meant to test an individual's true strength, thus arming oneself with a weapon would render the fight meaningless. I particularly like the scene where Taiga Narumi, leader of rival school, Hosen Academy, tells one of his weak subordinates who just flashed a knife at his opponent that a man uses his fists to fight, before knocking him down with a punch.


The essence of this film is as Genji puts it, "It's not too bad, being a crow. Compared to those poor birds that are locked in cages and have forgotten how to fly, [being a crow] is so much better. For me, being a crow is enough."

After being traumatised by Saw back in 2004, I skipped the rest of the movie franchise thinking that I would never put myself through such mental torture again, only to find myself back in the cinema for Saw VI.

I never learn.


Fortunately, the latest installment of the film series isn't as scary as I remember its pilot to be, or perhaps it has lost its novelty, even for someone who had only watched the first of the series five years ago. Nevertheless, a splatter film like this has its own cult following: Mike is one of them, having watched all of the films from the franchise.

Similar to all those times he had bugged me to explain bits of the Harry Potter films to him, I pestered him with questions after watching the movie, not quite because I was intrigued by it or that I couldn't understand any part of it, because surprisingly, I was able to follow the plot development and deduce enough of what happened before this installment to understand what was going on in the film. My questions were basically stemmed out of my general inquisitiveness of all films, but Mike was so frustrated by my incessant questions (and his inability to answer them) that he asked me to watch the films myself.


Of course I won't subject myself to the gory mess again, but from what I've gathered through Wikipedia, the winning appeal of this series, which is also what I believe sets it apart from other sadistic horror films, is Jigsaw himself.

Unlike his savage protégés, Jigsaw never intends to kill because of his belief that "once you see death up close, then you know what the value of life is." Because of this belief, the clever, intricate traps he created are more like tests of human nature than mindless torture devices, and there is always a way out - only if you prove to be worthy of it. Through his victims' choices, you might even be forced to look within yourself to wonder what choices you'd make if you were placed in their unfortunate situation. Despite his extreme and eerily insightful ways, I'm not sure if you can even call him a killer when his victims caused their own deaths.


Compare his purposeful, albeit twisted, games to his apprentices' tasteless killings for selfish means, I say unless they can bring John Kramer back to life, they should give it a rest before it becomes a run-of-the-mill horror series (remember Scream?).

On a side note, I wonder whether the screenwriters who came up with such ingenious killer plots ever thought of committing the perfect crime themselves. Meanwhile, I also discovered the story of Jeffrey Dahmer, which left me more disturbed than watching any horror movie.

Throughout this period of job search, I've been through self-doubt, both in my own ability and desire.

Mike tells me that not everyone gets to do their dream job - not everyone is that lucky. Even so, will I be able to give up material comfort for that? It is so easy to say yes when the situation hasn't happened yet, when you still harbour the bit of hope that maybe you are lucky enough to do what you like with a satisfactory salary. Alas, the field of writing doesn't pay that much, you'll realise.

Even after I've gotten a couple of job offers, and I know I should be grateful, but I'm honestly discontented. William got exasperated when I kept saying that these aren't what I want, so he asked, "What do you want?!"

I want my heart to pump so hard that if I were to die the next moment, it would be worth it.

Find me a job like that.


Via Andrea Chiu

"Pretty much sums up the state that I've been in since I came here, I guess since I was honest with myself and accepted that, like, I'm really scared, and I don't know where my life is going, and I don't know, like, what I'm doing."

One day, let me pack up and leave.

I realise that when you are truly living your life, you may not have time to blog so much. The moment I got back from Bangkok, I was busy clearing my emails, scheduling job interviews and accepting three months' worth of TOS assignments - well, you got to work to make up for what you've spent, right?

The truth is, I didn't spend a lot on this short trip (191009 - 211009) as my air ticket (Thai Airways) and accommodation (Holiday Inn) were all paid by Aunt May. She invited me to go on a pilgrimage of some sort with her friend, Tina, who once stayed in the temple, Wat Katumdeesrivararam. While I'm not a religious person, I'm more of an agnostic than an atheist. I find faith an intriguing concept and was eager to see for myself the extent of it in a deeply religious country such as Thailand.

It was an eye-opener.

( Bangkok: Krung Thep Mahanakhon! )

It has been a long time coming. I have wanted to visit Bangkok for the longest time, but the plan always fell through. This time, there isn't one. When there isn't a plan, it always works.

I wanted to watch (500) Days of Summer when Mike suggested Julie & Julia instead, due to its rave reviews and also because he finds romantic movies boring.

Well, with Meryl Streep involved, I suppose no movie can go wrong.


The plot is simple enough: Julie Powell, a lowly call operator of a government bureaucracy, decides to revive her failed writing career through a self-imposed project, where she chronicles her experience of cooking her way through the 524 recipes by Julia Child, a venerated American celebrity chef, within a year, on none other than a blog. This movie intersects the lives of the two women living in a different time and space, as they share similar experiences of loss, dilemma, stress and eventually strength that they both derive from cooking.


Don't you think Amy Adams looks like the younger version of Cynthia Nixon?
I'm not sure if I would like this movie as much if I didn't feel like Julie right now. Out of sheer desperation and frustration from job search, I almost took up a job offer that I would not only sulk every day on my way to work, but would also despise myself for it, because I would be so far away from my dreams that I might lose sight of them. Whatever happened to the dreamer in me? I kept asking what should I choose between money and pride, when I knew the answer: always, always pride. William says I have too much pride in me and may not survive in the real world, but I'm proud of it - for now, that is. I'm more afraid that I will end up like Julie - giving up my dreams to reality - than anything else, because I don't want to live my life till I'm thirty to find that I have accomplished nothing in life that I can be proud of.


Like Julie, I'm also someone who hates but needs a deadline, or I will never get anything done. My main purpose of getting a job, other than to be productive, is actually to keep my life in check, because it will force me to. I lack self-discipline, unfortunately.

As for blogs mentioned as a narcissistic tool in the film, I agree. In fact, all forms of social media are. You display your thoughts, ideas, feelings and inconsequential nitty-gritty details of your life for the world to see, hoping not just to immortalise these moments, but also to generate a common consensus among those who may have stumbled upon your personal, yet not-so-private, blog. I don't see anything wrong with that. As much as it is a choice to narrate your personal life - usually the more enviable part of it - for the world to read, it is also up to the readers' preference to actually read it. If you don't like it, then don't. You just can't deny the effectiveness of it to influence, not when this movie is based on a true story, no, two true stories actually.


I might not be aware of Julia Child's legacy, but Meryl Streep's portrayal sure made her likeable to me. She is so endearing - with her high-pitched voice and housewifely ways - that you will forget the latter was once a devil who wears prada. Now that she dons an apron, she is simply a servant-less American cook with a strong passion for French cuisine - though to Julie, she is a god-sent existence who revolutionised the American cooking culture.

I find this description of Streep's performance in the movie particularly apt: "By now this actress [Streep] has exhausted every superlative that exists and to suggest that she has outdone herself is only to say that she's done it again." She is really in a league of her own.


While this movie is all about whipping delicious dishes, it features more on the cooking than eating (though you do see them popping pills for indigestion due to having too much good food), and with the level of distress Julie appears to be in whenever she is cooking, I doubt anyone will want to take up cooking classes after watching this.

I, for one, prefer experimental cooking to following recipes, though I agree with Julie and Julia: butter does make everything tastes better, except leafy vegetables. So - bon appétit and feast away!

When I was younger, I practically grew up in a flower shop. Instead of becoming obsessed with flowers, I grew accustomed to their beauty. I was never particularly interested in flowers and simply thought of it as a commodity - sometimes, a waste of money.

The flower shop, located at Bukit Timah, Sixth Avenue, meant a lot to me though, because I spent a large part of my childhood there, together with my mother. When I was too young, Mum would send her workers, usually clerks, to fetch me to the shop after school, and I would spend the rest of my day as a cashier. I cultivated a habit of doing my homework during lesson time and finishing before school ended, so that by the time I reached the shop, I only needed to focus on being a cashier. I was in kindergarten when I knew how to deposit the daily earnings of the shop in the bank. I was in primary school when I started travelling to the flower shop by bus on my own. When it came to floral arrangement, however, Mum never found it necessary to teach me.

As a florist, I remember my mother had a lot of cuts on her fingers, some blackened and remained as scars. While she wouldn't even flinch when she was slashed by a cutter, she would fuss over me if I so much as gotten pricked by a thorn on the rose. She had a great eye for aesthetics which I never learned to appreciate, but could only assume from the compliments she garnered. Once, after collecting a bouquet of flowers from my mother, a Caucasian businessman even proposed to her (jokingly, I think) in front of me and offered to be my stepfather. She only smiled humbly in reaction to that.

As the flower business was lucrative then, the shop was earning enough money to lease five acres of land at Choa Chu Kang to build a nursery at my aunt's insistence, though Mum disagreed with the decision. According to Aunt May, the increasing competitiveness in the floral industry had led to the need for a larger space for bigger projects as well as to diversify into other forms of services, including construction and landscaping.

The year after Mum passed on, the flower shop was moved to the nursery. It was not a smooth transition though. The burden of continuing the business had fallen on my aunt, who was used to sharing Mum's workload, but never on her own. Besides, it was her decision to move to the nursery, so she was determined to make it work. Initially, they suffered heavy losses, both in clientele and business, due to the inaccessibility of the location - a huge contrast to the convenient location of Bukit Timah where the rich resided. It was not until the recent years that they managed to recuperate the losses.

( Nine years later, this is how it looks like. )

A while ago, Dina Goldstein's Fallen Princesses made my jaw drop. Finally, I thought, someone realised that these fairytales don't make sense.

I remember Cinderella as the first story I was told to when I was a child, and truthfully, I loved it - until I realised that most of the stories also involve a silly and naive princess in distress who is almost always saved by a prince in shining armour. I lost interest as soon as the novelty of these stories was gone.

As you grow up, you start to see these fairytales as fantasies, and while you hold on to that tiny hope of it happening in reality, no one actually envisioned, like Goldstein did, what it would look like in real life.


Not your typical hardworking Cinderella, eh?


Jasmine's strength makes her a favourite of mine, but who knew she could be a soldier?


Little Red Riding Hood isn't so little anymore. Good for the wolf, I guess.


When "Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair" takes on a new meaning...


What if the kiss didn't work on Sleeping Beauty?


If Snow White can take care of the seven dwarfs, babies shouldn't be a problem, right?


Just imagine if the Little Mermaid really exists, where would she be?
This morning, I came across something even better: the princes with perfect features and the demonised version of the princesses, in which case, you should also read Neil Gaiman's version of Snow White, from the perspective of her Queen stepmother.


Cinderella in her pumpkin and Snow White taming the seven evil dwarfs. Via Jeffrey Thomas.
Honestly, while I can barely tell one princess from another, I won't be able to recognise the princes, not even by name, unless you specify which story they are from.


These two should be obvious enough though: Hercules and Peter Pan. Via David Kawena.


My favourite set: Aladdin and Jasmine from Aladdin.


Human Beast and Belle from Beauty and the Beast.


John Smith and Pocahontas from Pocahontas, but Kocoum is really more compatible.


Li Shang and Fa Mulan from Mulan.


Phillip and Aurora from Sleeping Beauty.


Tarzan and Jane from Tarzan.


Eric and Ariel from The Little Mermaid.
They kind of destroy your idea of a fairytale, don't they? Maybe that's why I like it so much.

Brunch: Chinese Tea and BreadTalk Mooncake filled with Sesame and Yam Paste
I actually don't like to eat mooncakes, but we have received a couple of boxes from relatives and neighbours, so I thought I should help to finish them as well. I chose the smallest box with the tiniest piece of mooncake for brunch, because I knew how full the fillings would make me feel, especially when I don't like yam either. I ended up washing it down my stomach with tea.

I had an invitation to visit Rizal's Hari Raya Open House today, but I decided to stay at home and accompany Dad instead, as the brothers weren't going to be home. It was a quiet evening.

I thought of the times when we would gather with the cousins at the small back alley of our Bukit Timah flower shop, where my youngest uncle would be hosting a barbeque session with a couple of old friends and customers. The oldest cousin would be asked to prepare games revolving around Mid-Autumn Festival to keep the kids entertained. The kids would show off their electric lanterns and refuse to use the traditional paper ones. The adults would simply sit around, either talking, gambling or tasting mooncakes. Occasionally, someone would exclaim about how round the moon was. At that moment, everyone's attention would be captured by the moon. I'm not sure which was more beautiful: the full moon or the happy reunion.

Someday, my future shop would be like this: a place for people to gather and make merry.

There was a time when I thought any woman who could carry off a power suit would look good in everything else. It was probably after watching Bette (The L Word) strut in and out of her office confidently, wearing a dressy top obscured by a blazer and a pair of tight-fitting tailored pants, that made me think that way. Though I gradually began to wear more skirts and dresses, this thinking didn't change.


Via SheWired.com
Incidentally, I saw a photo of Jacelyn Tay's getup at Fann Wong's mega wedding and I thought she looked pretty nifty too.


Via Xin.sg
I was browsing through Nancy's blog the other day when I saw her sketch on Dolce & Gabbana's Spring 2010 Ready-to-Wear Collection. I love how she captured the essence of powerful femininity exuding from the structured suit, the poise, the look and the red lips.


Via Nancy
Of course, I couldn't resist peeking into the rest of the D&G collection.

I remember arguing with a person who commented on how women who wear power suits command respect in the workplace only because they are dressing like men. It was such a bigoted view that deems women as a lower being than men, and hence, have to dress like a man in order to be respected. Besides, who made the rule that skirts and dresses are for women, while pants and suits are for men? Personally, I think life would be easier for men if they get to wear skirts and dresses. For women, they don't just look like they mean business when they are in power suits, but they also appear smart, chic and sophisticated. Even as they choose the convenience, efficiency and practicality to be in pants, they can still look good in it.




Via Style.com
That doesn't mean I don't like to wear skirts though. In fact, I prefer skirts and dresses to pants and suits because wearing the latter ensemble on a warm day makes me extremely uncomfortable and I absolutely abhor having the bottom of my pants soaked due to a rainy day. That is what you get for a tropical weather like ours.

If you mix and match, however, you may just get the best of both worlds.


Via Style.com
I am actually not a fan of lace, but black lace has this mysterious and sexy charm about it, don't you think? Well, too much of it can be nauseating.


Via Style.com

What I really mean is Watch This Fall, but you do know that right?

All my favourite TV series are showing and it's so difficult to keep up with them. They just keep coming, you know. Since I'm still not gainfully employed and taking a break from job search to re-evaluate my life (again), I guess I do have the time to spare. However, while some series still seem exciting, others are wearing my interest thin.


Gossip Girl (Season 3): 14 September 2009 (Mondays)
By this time, I have watched three episodes from the latest season and is the only series I've been keeping track with. Frivolity aside, I like the new changes and challenges each character is facing, and less Jenny Humphrey is always good.

I tend to forget these people are acting as teenagers, but acting is one thing - do you know Blake Lively (Serena) and Ed Westwick (Chuck) are actually younger than me? Can you believe that?


Heroes (Season 4): 21 September 2009 (Mondays)
I haven't watched a single episode of the latest season mostly because I didn't realise it was already out, but also because with every season, it becomes more disappointing. I am sick of Claire (yes, I may have something against bimbo blonds) whining about how she wants to save the world just because she cannot die. Remember the phrase: "Save the cheerleader, save the world." If anything, she is the one that needs saving, not the rest of the world.

I also lost track of the past, present and future plot. No, in fact, who are the villains, really? Frankly, I don't see where all these are heading towards.


Grey's Anatomy (Season 6): 24 September 2009 (Thursdays)
I watched its season premiere and it looks promising, especially with an excellent cliff-hanger from season five, though of course, with all the talk about who's staying and who's leaving the show, it is not difficult to guess who is going to die.

There is something about this show's narration (voice-overs) that tears away your strong facade and makes you face your inner demon.

Meredith: According to Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, when we're dying or have suffered a catastrophic loss, we all move through five distinct stages of grief. We go into denial because the loss is so unthinkable we can't imagine it's true. We become angry with everyone, angry with survivors, angry with ourselves. Then we bargain. We beg. We plead. We offer everything we have, we offer our souls in exchange for just one more day. When the bargaining has failed and the anger is too hard to maintain, we fall into depression, despair, until finally we have to accept that we've done everything we can. We let go. We let go and move into acceptance.

The best part is that after it breaks you down, it uses the entire episode to tell you it's okay to be broken.

Lexie: Grief may be a thing we all have in common, but it looks different on everyone.
Mark: It isn't just death we have to grieve. It's life. It's loss. It's change.
Alex: And when we wonder why it has to suck so much sometimes, has to hurt so bad. The thing we gotta try to remember is that it can turn on a dime.
Izzie: That's how you stay alive. When it hurts so much you can't breathe, that's how you survive.
Derek: By remembering that one day, somehow, impossibly, you won't feel this way. It won't hurt this much.
Bailey: Grief comes in its own time for everyone, in its own way.
Owen: So the best we can do, the best anyone can do, is try for honesty.
Meredith: The really crappy thing, the very worst part of grief is that you can't control it.
Arizona: The best we can do is try to let ourselves feel it when it comes.
Callie: And let it go when we can.
Meredith: The very worst part is that the minute you think you're past it, it starts all over again.
Cristina: And always, every time, it takes your breath away.
Meredith: There are five stages of grief. They look different on all of us, but there are always five.
Alex: Denial.
Derek: Anger.
Bailey: Bargaining.
Lexie: Depression.
Richard: Acceptance.

CSI (Season 10): 24 September 2009 (Thursdays)
I started watching this series during its sixth season, when Mike kept harping on how good it was. However, when Grissom left last season, all my reasons for watching the show left with him. I mean c'mon, Catherine can never fill his shoes. When Laurence Fishburne was slated to join the show, I thought maybe he could. After all, he was rather charismatic as Morpheus. Alas, he was more of a geeky newbie than an inspiring leader in the last season. I can only hope he steps up this time.

The good news is Sara is coming back. I missed her sassy attitude, though she could be annoyingly deviant sometimes. For its tenth season (the most number of seasons I've watched for a series other than Friends), this had better be good.


Three Rivers (Season 1): 3 October 2009 (Saturdays)
While I'm not too keen on watching another medical drama (though I do think House is quite good, but I don't follow it), I'm quite delighted by the cast. Not only will Katherine Moennig (a.k.a Shane) be acting in it, so will Daniel Henney! I wish he would lose that hair of his though, he looked much better with his short hair.

I know there are a lot of other good shows around as well, like Mad Men, Big Bang Theory, How I Met Your Mother and Lost, but I really don't think I can handle anymore - even when I'm blissfully unemployed.

Now if you will excuse me, I still have a couple of episodes to catch up on.


Dinner: Spaghetti Bolognese

As Corinna wanted to spend her Saturday night fruitfully (because she is going to start working soon) and there are a lot of recent movies (Gamer, Inglourious Basterds, The Ugly Truth, The September Issue, Coco Before Chanel, Fame, (500) Days of Summer and Paper Heart) that I want to watch, we made a spontaneous decision after our dinner with the sOCi mates to catch a late-night movie at Lido. Coco Before Chanel wasn't available then, so we ended up watching Fame.


I like to talk about my dreams, but not as much for others to know as it is to convince myself that this is what I want and this is what I'll have to work towards. A lot of people keep telling me that it's good that I know what I want. What if it's just a false front? What if that is the only thing I think I may be good at? I know what I want, but what if I can't get it? What if I'm not good enough? I have such limited choices to begin with, and trust me, not getting what you desperately want is a lot more painful than not knowing what you want. Imagine you've only got one shot and if you miss, you lose.

So it was strangely apt for me to watch this movie with my current frame of mind - a jaded dreamer. One minute I was talking to Corinna about how job search could lead to self-doubt, self-reflection and eventually draining you of whatever faith you had in yourself, the next minute I was in the huge, but rather empty, theatre watching a bunch of kids struggling to realise their dreams.


If the movie was good, I'd have thought it was God trying to give me a sign:

"Hold your dreams, don't ever let it go. Be yourself, and let the world take notice. You'll find strength when people bring you down. They will see, if you'd only, only believe." (Hold Your Dream by the cast of Fame)

Unfortunately, the fluffiness of the plot made dreams seem all the more unrealistic, abstract and frivolous. In the movie, some of the kids talk about how hard they practise on their techniques, be it on dancing, singing, acting or playing their instruments, but you don't actually see that. All you see are the kids having a blast of a time showing off their talents - not that it's not nice to watch, I'll even admit that I was drawn to its trailer and music video, but too much of a good thing can be bad, you know.

Because other than kids who think their talents come naturally ("All I've got to do is to be happy."), there are also those who don't only have one talent: they sing, they dance, they rap, they act, they produce and they play their instruments so well that even their instructors are impressed. Of course, there are also those who aren't so talented, but who cares as long as you're having fun?

Yes, it is a fun movie, but I think that is all there is to it. I don't think there is even a proper resolution for all the characters. Funny how those who didn't graduate from the school are actually those who succeeded in life.


Like High School Musical, there are bound to be a few fresh faces (or voices) that will catch everyone's attention, but how long they can last is another matter altogether.

Don't get me wrong; I do think they have real talent. Kherington Payne (Alice) sizzles when she dances, Collins Pennie (Malik) has an intense stage presence due to his pair of creepy eyes and Naturi Naughton (Denise) has such powerful vocals it will blow you away.




When it comes to fan girls, however, Asher Book (Marco) is going to be the one that will get them screaming. If anyone knows how to croon, it's him. I didn't think too much of him at first, but when he opened that mouth of his to sing, it was hard not to be mesmerised.

And guess what? He's in a boyband. Oh boy, why am I not surprised?




Fame 2009 is a remake of Fame 1980. While I didn't watch the original film (I wasn't even born yet), the idea itself is already unoriginal. From the looks of it, it is unlikely to win an Academy Award (but for the songs, maybe there's still a chance). So why make a movie that can't top its predecessor?

Ah, because the movie's director, Kevin Tancharoen, is a dance choreographer (which explains the well-directed dance sequences) whose only experience in directing is Britney Spears' concert tour (and that explains the theatrics) - wouldn't that explain everything (including the superficiality of the story)?

If laughter were any indication of quality, Inglourious Basterds must be pretty darn good. In fact, I was getting annoyed by the continuous sickening laughter emitting from the group of guys sitting a couple of seats away from me in the theatre. To the movie's credit, I came out of the theatre thinking, "I love it!" but really, it was more of a reaction than actually knowing why I thought it was good. Mike, on the other hand, thought it was distasteful.


It is wrong on so many levels: bloody, gruesome, politically incorrect, morally preposterous, outrageously violent, torturous, crude, exaggerating, dramatic and even historically twisted, but it lived up to Quentin Tarantino's title as a cult film maestro, because it is so bad it's good.


After watching the film, there were a few things I felt like doing immediately. I had the urge to become multilingual, because I was fascinated by the German, French and even Italian dialogues in the movie, and when someone asked, "Do you Americans speak any other language besides English?" I was suddenly conscious of my limited language abilities.

I was also intrigued by the history of WWII (as I realised how woefully little I knew about it) and found out how Hitler actually died.

I wanted to know how many rotten tomatoes the movie has earned, but ended up reading more online reviews than I had intended.

I did an online search on the background of "The Bear Jew" as well, whom I thought looked a lot like Zachary Quinto (a.k.a Sylar on Heroes). His name is really Eli Roth, a pretty talented (and good-looking) film director, producer, screenwriter and actor. You may not know this, but he not only acted in Inglourious Basterds, he is also the director of the Nazi propaganda film - Nation's Pride - in the movie.


Brad Pitt's performance in the movie is definitely commendable. I always thought he was overrated as an actor, but this movie proved me wrong. I'm not sure if it was his striking character persona as "Aldo the Apache" or that ridiculous undulating American accent of his, but he was a delight to watch onscreen.


I was also pleasantly surprised by a certain Mélanie Laurent, who starred as Shosanna. I was first in awe of her beauty, because whether she is in working-class attire or wearing an elegant dress, she still oozes strength and independence as a woman. Her femme fatale role was rather well-played I must say, because her presence towards the end of the film was so forceful that it had a lingering effect on me.




The star of the film has to be Christoph Waltz though, who also won the Best Actor Award at the 62nd Cannes Film Festival for his role as Colonel Hans Landa. He may be the malicious villain, but is absolutely pivotal to the plot development for even Tarantino said his movie couldn't be made without Landa as a character. While the director feared the part was "unplayable", Waltz simply waltzed through the movie personifying the devious character whose smile would send a chill down your spine. I'm so glad Tarantino didn't go with his original plan to cast Leonardo DiCaprio as Landa, or the effect would have been comical.


So why do I like the movie, other than the fact that it is simply out of this world? Maybe it's the way they say, "Basterds."

I think this might just be his masterpiece - yet.

Brunch: Omelette with Diced Ham, Cheese and Tomatoes, Toasted Bread and Milk
One day, I decided that I've had enough of introducing myself as Sin Yee, only to have acquaintances echo, "Cindy?" I've never felt like a Cindy before - even though Dad claims that Cindy was the initial idea of my name - so I detest being called that.

Starting from now, which is essentially nowhere, I'm adopting an English/French name: Renée. I not only like the sound of it, but also the fact that it means reborn, though I haven't been baptised.

I told Dad and William about it, but Dad chuckled.

Dad: "You already have an English name - Cindy!"
Me: "It's not official and it sounds like my real name."
Dad: "That's the point."
Me: "Yup, that's why I'm adopting another English name."
Dad: "Fine, what is it?"
Me: "Renée."
Dad: "Then is this official or unofficial?"

I've officially switched my Gmail account from sinnielee[at]gmail[dot]com to reneeleesy[at]gmail[dot]com. I've changed the name on my resume, all my cover letters and all forms of social media such as Facebook, Twitter, LiveJournal and MSN. I need to inform my TOS editors regarding this change of name, but I will do it when I send in my assignment for the November issue. I'm considering to add the name to my IC and bank accounts, because I'm afraid they won't accept cheques that are addressed to Renée. I'll be introducing myself as Renée from now on, but of course, I'll still be Sinnie to my friends. So yeah, I guess it's pretty official.

With it, I hope it brings me a new, positive change in life too.

Have you ever wondered about a stranger? The story that lies behind his/her life? I do - all the time.

Normally, it is the lone, solitary figure that intrigues me. The young kid taking a bus all by himself: why is he alone? The restless teenager in school uniform feverishly typing on her mobile phone: who is she messaging? The cool hipster who has his ears plugged with a vibrant-coloured headphone, waiting at the entrance of the MRT station: who is he waiting for? The expressionless office lady standing beside me on the bus: what does she work as? The Caucasian man wearing a strong cologne getting off at the same bus stop as me: does he stay around here? The elderly lady carrying plastic bags full of groceries crossing the road: is she living with her children?


Via Greedy Girl
Sometimes I see him too - my childhood crush. I don't know him, but we live on the same block. I can't remember why I had a crush on him, but I vaguely remember him as this aloof, but smart-looking, bespectacled boy in a white uniform. Yes, he looked pretty good in it. He has a younger sister, younger than me, I think. Every time I see her, I'd look around for him. There was once when I rushed into the lift to see him holding the door open for me. I muttered "Thanks" and he smiled. My heart was beating so fast (because I ran or because of him, I'm not sure), I was afraid he would hear it. The moment the door opened, I walked swiftly out of the lift without looking back.

Alas, I hardly see him around anymore. I wonder how he is doing?

By next week, I think, many people will be talking about Up. Beautiful, would be the most common word to describe it, but not necessarily wrong, because you will be enthralled by the balloons and where they bring you.


If you think about it, there is really nothing special about Up, except that the protagonist is a grumpy old man, paired with an overenthusiastic Asian boy scout. Even with that, it is not difficult to imagine where that would lead you, as it is usually the most unlikely duo that makes the most laughs. Joined by a talking dog and an elusive giant snipe, I'd say Up already has what it takes to become another run-of-the-mill animation that is just for laughs.




Fortunately, the first ten minutes of the film made a world of difference for it, but alas, Mike, Juliana and I missed the first five minutes of it.

The simple love story between Ellie and Carl is crucial as the backbone of the otherwise random adventure story and I won't be surprised if that is all people can talk about after the movie. I was particularly taken by the wordless sequence, because really, actions do speak louder than words.


I also saw a bit of myself in Carl, actually.

Often, we hold on tightly to the tangible things that remind us of our intangible memories with someone, but we forget that these memories are only precious because of our interactions not with the object, but the subject. If we need an object to be a reminder, does that not show how little we think of ourselves and the memory it contains?

We get so caught up in the past, we fail to allow new memories to be created everyday, with everyone. If we don't let go, how do we move on? You've got to make yourself light, if you want to fly.