It's New Year's Eve eve today. The last Sunday of 2007.
Alot's happened this year; mostly good, for which I am thankful.
I'm not one for well-thought out resolutions (or well-thought out anythings, come to think of it), so I hope everyone who reads this has had a good year behind them, and a good year ahead.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Friday, December 21, 2007
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Sunday, December 09, 2007
In Short
Lately it seems like I've been watching a load of movies; here's my take on a few.
The Golden Compass
Imagine, if you will, a cross between Lord of the Rings, the Chronicles of Narnia, Star Wars and Dr. Dolittle. That's essentially what you get here, minus Legolas, lightsabres and a black man. You do, however, get a small person with a shiny golden artifact, mysterious parentage and talking bears. A thin plot peppered by flat acting from some of the supporting cast doesn't help matters either, and lines like "You'd better hope they're on your side if they choose to attack" really spoil what might have been a somewhat decent movie. Cheap thrills of crying out "Dooku" and "Saruman" perhaps salvaged the experience.
3/5 from me, having risen from 2 just for the "I am your mother." "Noooooo!" exchange.
Hitman
I'm a huge fanboy of the series from Eidos. Every other game glorifies killing, but Hitman makes it stylish and innovative. In no other game can a skinny bald dude be so cool. The movie, sadly, takes every element of what makes the game awesome and rubbishes them all. Firstly, 47 talks. Alot. And he jokes. And flirts. No fibre wire. A single instance of disguising as a bystander. A long, drawn-out sword-fight with three other hitmen. Need I go on? Again, a plot thinner than tissues serves little to detract from the fact that the absolute best candidate for 47, Jason Statham, is not in it.
Another 3/5.
The Tattooist
On of the best ever locally-made films. But that's only because it was co-produced by a foreign company and I don't really have that many things to compare it to. As a horror film, it's actually pretty lame. The biggest scare was a scene where a girl hurls a cup or vase at the lead actor, shattering it against the wall. Only because it was unexpected. The "ghost" or "demon" is about as scary as Katie Holmes' new hairdo, and the leading girl isn't anywhere near hot or cute. In fact, her nose looks like she's been in a few bar-room brawls. The other girl, which I previously mentioned, is actually better looking, but she acts about as badly as Dida.
2/5, and I'm being kind.
30 Days of Night
I Am Legend is the reason I am looking forward to Christmas this year. But I thought I'd settle for this vampire flick while waiting. And realised I would have been better off watching Buffy. The TV series, not the horrendous movie. At least that one had a hot Sarah Michelle Gellar.
2/5. Seriously.
The Mist
1408 was a total letdown. With that in mind, I watched this new Stephen King movie expecting more of the same. However, I've had three days to watch this, and I'm not done. There's still the better part of an hour left, and I can't see myself going through with it at this point in time. I'm not sure what that says. The visuals are cheesy though.
?/5
Ones to watch out for:
I Am Legend - I hope the reviews are wrong
Awake - Alba
Cloverfield - Looks killer
Jumper - I want to see this, surprisingly
Iron Man - The latest poster is so badass
AVP:Requiem - Fanboy
The Dark Knight - Ditto
Ones I am not keen on watching:
Alvin and the Chipmunks - The Christmas carols have killed any semblance of hype
Mr Magrioum's Wonder Emporium - Ripoff of Willy Wonka
The Golden Compass
Imagine, if you will, a cross between Lord of the Rings, the Chronicles of Narnia, Star Wars and Dr. Dolittle. That's essentially what you get here, minus Legolas, lightsabres and a black man. You do, however, get a small person with a shiny golden artifact, mysterious parentage and talking bears. A thin plot peppered by flat acting from some of the supporting cast doesn't help matters either, and lines like "You'd better hope they're on your side if they choose to attack" really spoil what might have been a somewhat decent movie. Cheap thrills of crying out "Dooku" and "Saruman" perhaps salvaged the experience.
3/5 from me, having risen from 2 just for the "I am your mother." "Noooooo!" exchange.
Hitman
I'm a huge fanboy of the series from Eidos. Every other game glorifies killing, but Hitman makes it stylish and innovative. In no other game can a skinny bald dude be so cool. The movie, sadly, takes every element of what makes the game awesome and rubbishes them all. Firstly, 47 talks. Alot. And he jokes. And flirts. No fibre wire. A single instance of disguising as a bystander. A long, drawn-out sword-fight with three other hitmen. Need I go on? Again, a plot thinner than tissues serves little to detract from the fact that the absolute best candidate for 47, Jason Statham, is not in it.
Another 3/5.
The Tattooist
On of the best ever locally-made films. But that's only because it was co-produced by a foreign company and I don't really have that many things to compare it to. As a horror film, it's actually pretty lame. The biggest scare was a scene where a girl hurls a cup or vase at the lead actor, shattering it against the wall. Only because it was unexpected. The "ghost" or "demon" is about as scary as Katie Holmes' new hairdo, and the leading girl isn't anywhere near hot or cute. In fact, her nose looks like she's been in a few bar-room brawls. The other girl, which I previously mentioned, is actually better looking, but she acts about as badly as Dida.
2/5, and I'm being kind.
30 Days of Night
I Am Legend is the reason I am looking forward to Christmas this year. But I thought I'd settle for this vampire flick while waiting. And realised I would have been better off watching Buffy. The TV series, not the horrendous movie. At least that one had a hot Sarah Michelle Gellar.
2/5. Seriously.
The Mist
1408 was a total letdown. With that in mind, I watched this new Stephen King movie expecting more of the same. However, I've had three days to watch this, and I'm not done. There's still the better part of an hour left, and I can't see myself going through with it at this point in time. I'm not sure what that says. The visuals are cheesy though.
?/5
Ones to watch out for:
I Am Legend - I hope the reviews are wrong
Awake - Alba
Cloverfield - Looks killer
Jumper - I want to see this, surprisingly
Iron Man - The latest poster is so badass
AVP:Requiem - Fanboy
The Dark Knight - Ditto
Ones I am not keen on watching:
Alvin and the Chipmunks - The Christmas carols have killed any semblance of hype
Mr Magrioum's Wonder Emporium - Ripoff of Willy Wonka
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
A Visitor
Not quite Comic Relief this time. Here's something a few of you might have heard before. If you haven't, I hope you enjoy it, as much as anyone can, at least.
The square of light flickered in the darkness, a blackness that seemed almost liquid in its fluidity. Or perhaps it was only because his glasses were cast aside as he prepared to embrace his slumber.
The air chilled his skin even as he lay beneath the green and white cotton blanket, thrown over his prone form more out of habit than as a ward against the artificial elements. He stretched, and yawned, and stretched again. The fabric of the admittedly kiddish sheets bunching beneath his back, joints cracking like dead branches on a forest floor. Lazy eyes drifted again to the light; dull vision and dull visions. His toes peeped over the edge of the bed and out from under the blanket, like so many knobs, shapeless.
From outside, a claw tapped and raked and scratched and pawed at the window, a low howl accompanying the subtle greeting. But tree branches had never posed a mortal threat, and this one seemed no different. The claw persisted, and stopped, as the howling died.
The light, however, had a life unbound to the wind.
And from the light, there was darkness.
There is a certain innate ability inherent in nearly all creatures that allows them to recognise one of their own, even from a silhouette. And a certain terror that overcomes one who knows he is not alone, but not who he is not alone with.
The shadow in the light stumbled with an infant's gait, hunkering silently as the darkness it seemed to be made of.
Horrifyingly, it stopped. And turned.
Eyeless, it stared with reptilian patience, for what could have been years or heartbeats, unwavering and unflinching.
Demons and fiends and phantoms and spectres are often portrayed as large, horned, flaming behemoths, all teeth and fangs and eyes that glow red with hate and malice. But when such a child-shaped darkness simply waits, not two feet from your exposed toes, a hint of a snarl or a flash of talon would have been respite from the torment of the shadow.
A cotton blanket seemed a feeble buffer against even the most insubstantial of dangers, his pounding heart was sure to have drowned out a scream if one could be conjured from between parched lips. Quaking against a wall, he stared into the interloper as it stared back.
He was afraid.
Afraid to move, to brighten the room, to call for someone, to breathe. Afraid of what he would do if the figure moved. Abruptly, he was even more terrified of what he might be faced with if it remained.
And darkness befell him from all around.
Cursing the sleep timer on the television, he fumbled out of bed, expecting at any moment to feel small, cold, fingers wrap dreadfully around an ankle or wrist. Miraculously, the light switch materialized under his trembling fingers and he threw it.
And it was gone.
The square of light flickered in the darkness, a blackness that seemed almost liquid in its fluidity. Or perhaps it was only because his glasses were cast aside as he prepared to embrace his slumber.
The air chilled his skin even as he lay beneath the green and white cotton blanket, thrown over his prone form more out of habit than as a ward against the artificial elements. He stretched, and yawned, and stretched again. The fabric of the admittedly kiddish sheets bunching beneath his back, joints cracking like dead branches on a forest floor. Lazy eyes drifted again to the light; dull vision and dull visions. His toes peeped over the edge of the bed and out from under the blanket, like so many knobs, shapeless.
From outside, a claw tapped and raked and scratched and pawed at the window, a low howl accompanying the subtle greeting. But tree branches had never posed a mortal threat, and this one seemed no different. The claw persisted, and stopped, as the howling died.
The light, however, had a life unbound to the wind.
And from the light, there was darkness.
There is a certain innate ability inherent in nearly all creatures that allows them to recognise one of their own, even from a silhouette. And a certain terror that overcomes one who knows he is not alone, but not who he is not alone with.
The shadow in the light stumbled with an infant's gait, hunkering silently as the darkness it seemed to be made of.
Horrifyingly, it stopped. And turned.
Eyeless, it stared with reptilian patience, for what could have been years or heartbeats, unwavering and unflinching.
Demons and fiends and phantoms and spectres are often portrayed as large, horned, flaming behemoths, all teeth and fangs and eyes that glow red with hate and malice. But when such a child-shaped darkness simply waits, not two feet from your exposed toes, a hint of a snarl or a flash of talon would have been respite from the torment of the shadow.
A cotton blanket seemed a feeble buffer against even the most insubstantial of dangers, his pounding heart was sure to have drowned out a scream if one could be conjured from between parched lips. Quaking against a wall, he stared into the interloper as it stared back.
He was afraid.
Afraid to move, to brighten the room, to call for someone, to breathe. Afraid of what he would do if the figure moved. Abruptly, he was even more terrified of what he might be faced with if it remained.
And darkness befell him from all around.
Cursing the sleep timer on the television, he fumbled out of bed, expecting at any moment to feel small, cold, fingers wrap dreadfully around an ankle or wrist. Miraculously, the light switch materialized under his trembling fingers and he threw it.
And it was gone.
Monday, December 03, 2007
Sunday, December 02, 2007
Saturday, December 01, 2007
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