The not-so-private review of Pippa Lee

My friend and I watched The Private Lives of Pippa Lee today, not by choice but out of compulsion to watch something. It is quite astounding, when you think about it, to believe that the choices on display were so criminally bad. I hate the post-blockbuster season lull because even when one wills herself to dress up, take the train and go to the cinema they are presented with ridiculously limited choices.



Anyway, The Private Lives of Pippa Lee (based on a screenplay by the same name), referred to only as Pippa Lee from henceforth, was an interesting experience. First of all, the seats justified the $10 a piece tickets we bought. The film; not so satisfying but there were some interesting bits that managed to hold onto my attention for the duration.

The film revolves around the lead female cast, named, pointedly obvious, Pippa Lee (Robin Wright Penn). Through a series of flashbacks, the audience is privy to Pippa’s past, from the time of her birth to the moment she met Herb Lee (Alan Arkin), her current husband and a successful publisher; who happens to be 30 years senior.

The couple have two kids; an adventurous daughter who is a photo journalist, chronicling events unfolding in Baghdad. The son is studying to be a lawyer at the time he is introduced to the audience. After Herb suffers two consecutive heart attacks, the family is forced to move from their upscale Manhattan lifestyle into the quaint droll of a retired life in Connecticut.

The film opens with writer Sam Shapiro (Mike Binder) toasting to Herb’s success and reminiscing their professional relationship over the years. Herb appears less than enthusiastic about being reminded of his ailing health and forced retirement. Sandra Dulles (Winona Ryder) is then introduced as Sam’s partner. The opening scene is very nicely (and deceivingly) set up to the main content of the story, like a tasty but not filling appetizer served before entrée.

Pippa’s adjustment into the retired community is less than satisfactory – being the youngest housewife there, she develops a sleeping disorder. She sleepwalks and upon finding out about her condition by recording her night-time activities, she appears devastated. Whereas Herb finds re-adjustment equally hard, but in his own reserved and charismatic way.

It starts with his desire to want an office from where he can delegate his company, whose young workforce he refers to at one point of time as “babies”. We find out that Pippa’s relationship with her daughter Grace (Zoe Kazan) is less than satisfactory with Grace bluntly ignoring her presence at a family dining night in a posh restaurant.

The focus again shifts back into Pippa’s past; zooming in on the disintegration of her mother who suffered from bipolar disorder. Her condition was exacerbated by the constant use of amphetamines. The prolonged absence of Pippa’s father on the screen helps audiences understand Pippa’s reactions and responses better. Frustrated at her inability to help her mother, she seeks refuge at her paternal aunt Trish’s place in NYC. There she finds out her aunt is a lesbian and is introduced to her roommate Kit (Julianne Moore).

There is a touching confrontation/conflation between Pippa’s mother Suky (Maria Bello) and Pippa at Trish’s apartment but Pippa insists on staying at NYC. Kit’s influence on Pippa leads to a downward spiral in her lifestyle. Trish catches Pippa participating in one of Kit’s BDSM themed photoshoots and their relation ends. Pippa ends up on the street, and she carapaces her vulnerability with a anti social lifestyle by taking up smoking, alcohol, drug abuse and promiscuous sex.

Back into the present, Chris (Keanu Reeves) is introduced as the emotionally troubled son of their neighbour’s, who has left his wife and has been sleeping in his car for weeks. The on screen chemistry between Pippa and Chris is instantaneous. And when we are certain that there will be more than subtle looks and awkward stares, perpetuated by Pippa’s sleepwalking (where she ends up at the store Chris works at), we are once again catapulted back to the past where Pippa met Herb.

There is a stunning scene delivered by Monica Bellucci who played Gigi Lee, Herb's wife, also prominently younger than him. To keep it brief, Herb became a shining light in Pippa's incredibly dark world. Their love is unusual, defying stereotypical barriers but in a subtle way it is also very cathartic. And it stands true to the notion that love doesn't distinguish between the old and the young, the rich and the poor and every other love-related clichés ever uttered.

Just when the skeptical souls wondered if there'd ever be a conflict in the film, we along with Pippa discover what Herb's been doing in his office. Shacking it up with Sandra, who is even younger than Pippa. Jumping from a trophy wife to a trophy mistress, but somehow our sympathies remain with Herb when he admits he doesn't want to grow old and indulging in frivolity conceals this inconvenient truth from his mind.

When Pippa decides to leave Herb, he gets another heart attack and becomes brain dead. Grace and Pippa reconcile. Chris and Pippa have sex in Chris's car. The Lee family pulls the plug on Herb and Pippa takes off with Chris on a spontaneous roadtrip, leaving it upto Grace and Ben (her kids) to arrange their father's funeral.

My gripe with the film is that the ending felt a bit rushed up - it could've ended better, more dramatically but it sort of whimpered off the screen. However I like the issue of fidelity, and the constant human need to be reassured, to be loved, the overwhelming fear of growing old, of dying, of being alone are addressed well in this film. The moral quandary, when cheating on your spouse, or cheating with the spouse of your good friend, wasn't developed well. I mean, come on, if you are going to sleep with your best friend's husband or wife, you are bound to have some kind of second thoughts. Maybe guilt trips? Though I admit Sandra's guilt was fantastically portrayed by Winona in the last hospital scene - it was the highlight of the film for me at least.

My problem with Herb is his cavalier attitude towards women - he treats them like trophies. And there is a scene in the film where an animated 2-D form of Pippa ran the length of a race track and handed a baton to a cartoon form of Sandra who continued to run ahead. This is a nice dig at this prevailing attitude in many men in society who see women as prizes; attractive when shiny, dull and boring when the polish wears off.

Edit: Oh and I forgot to add, THEY ARE ALL NEUROTIC. ALL OF THEM. LIKE A DAMAGED AND NEUROTIC CLUSTERFUCK.

Overall, I wouldn't watch it twice. Some parts were just painful to sit through. And the end felt a bit unsatisfactory. However, if you have a few bucks to spare and plenty of time on hand, do watch it. It'll be an interesting experience.

Long entry is long.

Owning the internets,

one acronym at a time.

Was looking for the meaning of a specific acronym when I stumbled upon this.

Acronyms dictionary: God's gift to the lackadaisical masses

Hence this short, germane post which acts as a placeholder for posterity and another excuse to seemingly appear to be ‘active’ on the internets. (As if Farmville and Twitter doesn’t give that away… * snorts * )

First post using Windows Writer

Packing almost done. I have to gather the things I want to put in my backpack, my toothbrush, the book I intend to read on the plane and of course my camera + lenses + flash.

When I’m there, I want to take an afternoon off fro fulfilling family obligations and spend the time roaming around the streets taking pictures. Of course, as Mad-eye Moody said before, “Constant vigilance!”

Years spent in total security in this country has lessened my alertness on the streets – for example, when I was visiting Cairo, my carelessness almost cost me $200 worth of papyrus painting. (They found it after we had left Cairo and had it shipped over for us. Bless them!)

Anyway, now I’m going to count down the hours before I get to board the plane. Assuming the plane is on time because my dear father’s plane was supposed to depart yesterday 14 Dec 2009 at 2.30 p.m. but it eventually left Changi Airport at 2.30 a.m. on 15 Dec 2009. That’s right. A full 12 hours delay which just re-defines ridiculousness on a whole new level.

To end this post, I’m going to leave you with this picture (the video on YouTube has sadly been removed thanks to a copyright claim by NBC):

 
I LOVE THIS TAYLOR LAUTNER KID.

LOLWHUT

Italian PM Silvio Berlusconi spent a settled night in hospital after being hit in the face by an attacker, Italy's Ansa news agency said

How much do you want to bet the attack is a Nerazzuri fan?

Going back home in two days. Mightily excited to get myself (re) acquainted with the sights and sounds that makes home what it is. The terrible traffic, the dust pollution, hearing cab drivers engage themselves in a war of words in the middle of traffic jams, the street foods, the bargaining with shopkeepers in the market, the authentic continental food in restaurants, the familiar languages reverberating in the air, the smell of burnt wood, the sights, the sounds...and a catalogue of things that invokes memories, thoughts, left untouched for over a decade now. I miss home and the kind of life I would've had there, if I didn't come here...

I won't say I regret it entirely because the opportunities given to me to succeed in this country are in abundance. Not sure if I'd have gotten similar chances if I stayed home. However, there is certainly an element of home that I miss. The slangs, the inside jokes, the familiarity which takes me a while to get used to every time I go back marks my displacement from home. Sometimes I feel like I'm neither here, nor there. I cannot call this place a home away from home, simply because I do not feel the emotional attachment I feel with Calcutta. At the same time, when I am there, sometimes I feel like an accidental tourist. Like a person without a purpose, just wandering, not sure what he or she is hoping to find.

Lots of packing to do. * groans *

Just remember Misty, no matter what, youre still a December boy.

Trailer:


Went to a friend's house and we watched this. Impulsive, but it was absolutely worth it.

There's something inexplicably attractive about Dan Radcliffe - outside the scope and influence of Harry Potter. Though I suppose it'd be hard to take him out of that context for a long time to come. Especially for people like us, who are roughly about his age, give or take a few days older - we practically grew up watching him on the big screen, from the wee, round eyed Harry in The Philosopher's Stone to the lanky, emotional Harry in The Half Blood Prince. The transformation is quite amazing and I suppose in some subtle ways it reflects our own road to growing up. A quiet realization that like Harry, like Dan, we, too are no longer twelve and carefree. We are almost adults - we have responsibilities and things have become different.

Digression aside, I loved his acting in December Boys. For me, this is the first non-Harry Potter film of his I've watched. (Regrettably missing the opportunity to watch Equus.) He plays James in the film, or better addressed as Maps because he has a map of Tanzania shaped on his chest.

December Boys tells the story about four orphans, bounded by their birth month and a strong sense of family bonding who are cast out into the open, under the cerulean skies and breath taking beaches in Australia, where their camaraderie is tried and tested and eventually prevails. Even when one of them gets the opportunity to be adopted, after spending days trying to impress the couple, he leaves the opportunity for a normal home to be with his "brothers". It was a very touching film. Thoroughly enjoyed; might have wept a little if I had been seeing it in private.

One thing I did not enjoy was the religious overtone in the film. I'm not a fan of religious insinuations in films unless they serve, in some ways, to complement the central conflict. In the December Boys, that wasn't the case and at times it felt like a desperate scene filler.

un nuit à paris

I am in the middle of creating a photo CD for my father. The content, all pictures that he took, is about 480+ MB and I do not have a super fast computer. So to kill time, I decided to delve through my father's flashdrive - in which he keeps most of his photoshopped pictures - and I found some of our Paris picture which he had been working on in his spare time. ZOMG. When we took them (yes, he lets me play around with his EOS 50D, and by that deduction he is greater than your father) in June, they were quite good as they were, in their raw format. Of course with a $3000 camera and some powerful lenses you wouldn't expect otherwise, but the edited works look even better!

I'll include one of them. This one's a typical Parisian building on Champ Elysees. It's the long stretch of road that converges in front of the Arc di Triomphe - not the side that leads straight down to Place de la Concorde, but the direct opposite one; the Avenue de la Grande Armée side.

This makes me miss Paris. I am not particularly fond of the French pomposity and obnoxiousness over their language and culture, but Paris is a fucking beautiful especially, especially when you see it from le troisième étage de la tour Eiffel.

golden tree

Source

Sometimes a picture is enough to compose an entire blog post. This picture reflects, at this point in time, my mood, my feelings, the state of my mind. In other words, I'm clinging onto the fading wisps of Autumn, and not wanting to confront the biting cold of winter. Not that I get much of it here anyway; I suppose it's part of the psychological make up of a child who has been brought up previously in a country with regular four seasons throughout the year.

links dump (placeholder)

10 Proposals for Fixing the E-Mail Glut - it's an interesting piece and some of the proposals I see myself agreeing with. But others...lolwhut? For example, implementation of twitter-like 140 characters cut off limit. No, a big no, and I'm sure the verbose strata of the email-using population will (violently) object to its imposition. But check it out nonetheless.

Iron Man Versus the Imperialists Nice parallel between Iron Man and American Imperialism. Will properly finish reading after I'm done devouring sushi.

Wikipedia's Known Unknowns and Ontology overrated will come next. (Too much sushi, too little time)

Last night out of boredom, I watched New Moon and today I indulged myself in Zombieland. My derision/loathing/radical antipathy towards Twilight is well known in my friend's circle; so chances are if you and I have moved beyond the customary "Hello, how are you doing?" you'd have been treated to, at least one, my diatribe over Stephenie Meyers and Edward Cullen. I'll spare that here except to say LOLOLOLOL Edward actually sparkles in the film. LOLWHUT.

Zombieland on the other hand is a bucket of fun once you get by the blood dripping, flesh eating zombies - here's a bonus: Bill Murray? Zombie!fail. Stick to Ghostbusters Billy.

Now off to eat those sushis. The reading...well we'll cross that bridge when we get there.

Reviving Those Strangers at a Train Station - Nytimes's review of Brief Encounter by Noël Coward, adapted and directed by Emma Rice invokes a strong desire in me to be audience to this performance. Of course that'd require a $1000+ plane ticket to travel halfway across the world to witness this aesthetically pleasing beauty.

My first interaction with Brief Encounter, which is originally a film made in 1945, came after watching The History Boys where Scripps and Posner acted out a scene from it, earning a semi-impressed, semi-bored, "God knows why you learned Brief Encounter" reaction from Irwin. Everything other exposure to this play comes from Wikipedia and the internet at large. Now this review adds to the appeal of the play, carefully (and selectively) constructed in my head.

A need to share this picture - there's something striking about it, something that captures the mind and opens doorways to the world of imagination. Stories told from behind the lens, capturing every range of emotion put on display, each telling its own tale; of joy, sorrow, heartbreak, misery, comedy, hubris, catharsis and the likes...

One day I'd really like to own a camera of my own, focus on the center point of my lief and tell my own story from behind the lens.

One day...

U-Go-Slavia

To quote my friend, "I feel smart for existing."

You mean Jesus was gay? REALLY?

Copenhagen climate summit in disarray after 'Danish text' leak

No number of flabbergasted WTFs can be seen as an adequate response to this.

For the sake of this world (and my sanity) I'm going to hope that this is a hoax to stir up tension before the bulk of the talks is underway.

Really now. I understand this is a talk shop where diplomats will hug, shake hands and eat expensive caviar but at least conduct it with some dignity.

Edit: The actual leaked text which I am too tired/annoyed/resigned to read through. I'm just going to rely on The Guardian's summarizing skills and send my best regards to the vitriol and backlash it is going to receive on the internet.

The climate change saga

My father says Copenhagen "is just a talk shop" and that nothing substantial is going to come out of it. He can be cynical at times, but I don't think his cynicism has anything to do with his judgment of the Copenhagen talks. I think it is another talk shop too, and while the optimist desires some kind of positive outcome from this, the pessimist yawns in boredom.

To start off, Climategate and its consequences is going to soak up the atmosphere in conference rooms and the most important question anyone without insider information is going to ask is: Is Global Warming really as bad as it is made out to be?

John Tierney has a well summarized account of Climategate: E-Mail Fracas Shows Peril of Trying to Spin Science. It sums up the controversy surrounding the hacked emails that suggest scientists, in order to pursue definitive actions over rising temperatures, have manipulated the data to exacerbate the situation. That, I believe, is a very inconvenient truth. (Are you listening Mr. Gore?)

Placeholder: More links on Climategate controversy here, here and here. (note: The last one shows the actual emails exchanged - with date and timestamps!)

Alright, Climategate aside, the Cop15 official site is a good place to track the conference, get related news and other projects/initiatives that are underway to tackle the potentially-catastrophic consequences of climate change.

In an ideal world, the Copenhagen talks will achieve something substantial; something more than a promise. A definite action(s) into tackling global warming. Assuming we are in that ideal world here are the few ways, I feel we can tackle climate change.

1) Egotism: We need to stop trying to pinpoint who is historically responsible for global warming and who should be made to pay for the clean up. It should be a joint effort instead of a series of compromises made by countries based on what their competitors do. US wants to cut their emissions by 17% below 2005 levels by 2020, according to the Bill introduced to the Senate by Senators Barbara Boxers and John Kerry. That's fine. China wants to reduce theirs by 40-45% by 2020. It's a start but the consensus is that if US and China (accounting for 40% of pollution in the world) do not live up to their words, the others are reluctant to lower emission. I think by now there are no strong deniers of global warming - everyone's accepted the phenomenon and hopefully are aware of the consequences that await the generations to come. So why the wait? Why did we even need to go as far as the Copenhagen talks to reach a consensus?

2) Aid: Financial or otherwise. One of the reasons why countries are unwilling to cut emissions is because they are worried about their economic growth. If countries, especially developing ones, make a conscious effort to reduce emission then, they should be helped out for their efforts. China and India's primary concern these days is sustaining high levels of growth to pull their people out of poverty. If the world expects them to reduce pollution/emissions, then there should be ways set up whereby they can reduce without sacrificing the livelihood of their citizens. That's where aid can be an useful incentive to build up the momentum of reducing emissions.

3) Free flow of technology: It goes without saying, the more efficient your methods of production are, the better your chances of saving on your scarce resources. The flow of technology from the west to the east needs to be sped up. More developing countries should have the latest techonological know-how in order to ensure their methods of production are least destructive to the environment. Less IPs and patents might help. Multi-nation funding for Research and Development to find better ways of producing a good, and then distributing that knowledge worldwide can help too - basically the trade off here is your personal ambition vs. the environment's well being.

4) Social responsibility: Pretty much similar to the first one. Countries cannot say, "If X is allowed to pollute more than me, why must I reduce my emission?" Look, in the end, if this continues, we are all screwed. Global catastrophe is not going to pick and choose which of the countries it wants to hit. Everyone dies, so it doesn't matter who is allowed to pollute more and who isn't. Which is why carbon trading in some way does not answer the problem; it doesn't substantially reduce the aggregate amount of pollution present in the air. It shifts the burden from one country to another. Which is why, I think conscious efforts to sacrifice economic prosperity for better, cleaner environment would be better. But here I am, indulging in wishful thinking.

Of course in stating my four points I made several assumptions including the complete insignificance (and disregard) of political agenda, ideological difference, competition (between states), the on-going wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, HIV/AIDS, the stubborn presence of poverty, current financial crisis...yeah the list just goes on. However, I did set out an yardstick where the operative word is ideal.

We see that in every Hollywood blockbuster (or not) dealing with the end of the World - like War of the Worlds, Independence Day, The Day After Tomorrow and more recently 2012 - nations come together, as one, after the first wave of damage has been done. It is important to realize, the consequences of rising sea levels will in the future, maybe in 2012 or perhaps even maybe in 2070, have an impact. We can't be certain when it's going to hit us. And unlike in Hollywood movies, mass deaths and destruction will not be performed by cool CGI or stuntmen. It is going to have a definite impact, and people will suffer. All because of our inability to put aside our egoes and work together. (yes I'm very much aware of how I'm sounding like a doomsday prophet, but it is true. It will happen one day. Today, tomorrow or in the next millennium.)

Lastly, this guy tries to manifest a climate-change-oriented version of The Devil's Dictionary. Makes me laugh; and not always in the funny bone tickling way.

god is my favourite dj

Listening to Leona Lewis early in the morning, on a Sunday, still in bed, with a mug of lukewarm coffee and two lightly toasted bread is my idea of perfection. At least for the time being.

This is my favourite song so far by her:



I think she has an immensely powerful voice - the beauty lies in how soothing it sounds. Loud and soothing; euphonious, something which a lot of singers with higher pitched voices cannot acheive.

Another song I'm obsessed with at the moment is I Dreamed A Dream, sang by Elaine Paige from the Les Miserables stage play. First heard it on YouTube, Susan Boyle's rendition of it on Britain's Got Talent.

I'm also in the middle of reading this:



This was part of my Reading World Text course; however I skipped this book entirely due to 1) Lack of time, and 2) The overwhelming aspect of the other five books I had to read. I am beginning to regret the decision after every page of this book I'm finishing. There's a remarkable veracity in Lamming's writing; it's pure in ways that are inexplicable. It's beautiful and every word, every sentence inspires me to think. To close my eyes, take a deep breath and just think. What is more remarkable is the fact that Lamming was only 23 when he wrote this. I am 20 and my writing is like unpolished turd compared to this. Thanks Mr. Lamming, I feel
inadequate now.

My goal now is to finish reading In The Castle Of My Skin before the 16th. That's when I am going to India. I'm bringing my brand new copy of A Suitable Boy which, I'm determined to finish before the Winter break is over.