Movie reviews: love them, can’t write them.

Don’t ask me why. I never had a critical eye for anything. I feel more than I think. These, then, are my feelings on the last three films I saw last weekend.

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Redemption

On Sunday, I watched The Shawshank Redemption with Manuel.

I’ve seen this film tons of times before, but that night it was different. Maybe the best way to describe my feelings at this particular viewing of the film would be to let Andy’s letter to Red speak for itself, a copy of which I got from a close friend recently, in my worst of times.

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Dear Red,

If you’ve reading this, you’ve gotten out. And if you’ve come this far, maybe you’re willing to come a little further.

You remember the name of the town, don’t you? I could use a good man to help me get my project on wheels. I’ll keep an eye out for you and the chessboard ready.

Remember, Red. Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies. I will be hoping that this letter finds you, and finds you well.

Your friend,
Andy

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Let me tell you that Hope nearly died.

Things have been hard for me lately. But when you have good friends around, if you’re fortunate enough to have them, whether you deserve them or not, something can be saved.

Maybe that’s what Hope is.

Monkey joined us for that part of the movie, after opera with Fabio and Michele. I don’t think Mike and Manuel noticed my eyes when Red read Andy’s letter. But when I turned to them, there were only smiles on our faces, as it should be.

Hold the things you treasure close to you.

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Beautiful

Monday. No classes. A day for moulding.

Messed around with my computer mostly. Read Wilkie Collin’s “The Legacy of Cain”, which I might recommend as a Sunday Book, maybe. Matthias came back, offering me new movies. My eager celluloid pimp.

I chose A Beautiful Mind.

I think, from reviews of friends, this movie either bored or worried them. They either got it or didn’t; either way, they didn’t cared.

There was nothing for me to get. Echoes, however, I felt, überall.

Perhaps I should start by offering the point of view that’s the closest to mine. This is dear Seow Yin’s opinion:

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LT said that geniuses like John Nash have social problem, they can’t mix well with people and they choose to stay away from the crowd. But I don’t think that’s entirely correct, coz sometimes it’s not entirely their fault.

We think that they are different (or rather jealous of their abilities), so we choose not to mix with them. They might have felt the rejection and choose to stay away too…as for us, we come up with an excuse that they are not sociable to cover up.

This might not be pleasant to hear for most people, and I am not trying to be different (why try when we already are?).

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I love the way she doesn’t think like the rest of our friends, and remain sensible at the same time.

For me, John Nash reminds me of the problem with most men I know, myself included (especially me, actually), have with the need for success, for a sense of Accomplishment. We’ll do anything to feel special or superior.

Sometimes I think we forget that just to be worthy is hard enough a task.

In the meantime, we drive ourselves mad, run over friends and family with our wrath, or just run away. We never get very far. I know I’ve tried everything.

There’re just so many days you can curl up hiding from the outside willing the days to go away.

I now know at least one thing that would be an accomplishment, my Life’s Accomplishment – to say these words of Nash to the girl I love now when she has become the woman I love forever:

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I’m only here tonight because of you
You are the reason I am.
You are all my reasons.

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Darkness

Later that same night, I got a call from Monkey Boy, and he said to me, “Open your door.”

I stumbled over the words for a second, having no idea why he would be interested in me opening the door of my room. Then I realised he meant the door of my house, and that he was downstairs.

I rushed down and did my duties to be greeted with the big, fat grins of Manuel and Monkey, one of them, I forget who, waving a CD-R vigourously in his hand. He handed me The Army of Darkness.

Groans.

I went to the extent of getting movies from Matthias, but they were all either vetoed by any one of us or simply unacceptable in German. I mean, “Desperado” auf Deutsch? I shudder to think.

All other alternatives depleted, we settled down, some of us reluctantly, others bristling in glee, to ‘The Army of Darkness.’ I’ll spare you the review and just mention that it involved a supermart bagboy (“Housewares”) with a chainsaw for a right arm, medieval knights and distressed damsels, and oh, an army of the dead called, unless I’m very much mistaken, “The Deadites.”

Quality entertainment.

(Depending very much, of course, on your definition of “quality”, or for that matter, “entertainment.”)

Still, it enlivened a pretty dead evening I should say. Brought me back to life, even. Heh. Heh.

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Copyright © 2002 Kenny Mah Ying Fye.