movie notes on a Saturday

It’s 5:42 AM and well, my eyes are just inching a bit into Sleeplandia but not yet totally there. The black Kopiko has done its job once again.

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1:02 PM

After hashing out some stuff on the computer for my resume, my battery went kaputt, so it was time to leave the library. It was already past 8 then. When I came to the Vinzons jeepney stop, there was a long line there. Seems like there was traffic somewhere. After some 30 minutes or so of standing up, and with people leaving the line to get to their destinations faster, I finally boarded the 2^nd jeep. I’ve been thinking about ordering Pasta Puttanesca for takeout. And then I remembered Ender’s Game because I’ve been wondering about it in the library. And true enough, it was showing in Trinoma. Next show was at 9:55 pm, about 20 minutes away, so there’s nothing to be done about the grocery I was supposed to do. Bought a chicken burrito from Mexicali and wintermelon milk tea from Gongcha instead. And there. Settled inside the cinema. Weird that cinema 7 is not directly connected to the other cinemas. So that’s the place where not so popular movies are shown I guess. Still, there was a sizable crowd.

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11.18 pm

So it starts. I believe the opening was really nice, giving an overview of the current situation in Ender's time. Short but informative. 'Course things are changed a bit. Most noticeable thing is the boys are older. In the book, Ender was just 5 turning 6. Really just a child. Here he was shooting into puberty. When he shouts, you can hear the crack in his voice, he hasn’t matured yet, but is almost there.  And they are tall boys. Bean is already part of his launch group. Dap is no ordinary student but a full-fledged sergeant at the IF. Anderson is a black woman, with the conscience. I believed it was the other way around.  Abigail Breslin as Valentine -  wow, she’s really grown up. And his brother Peter is a looker. I didn’t really get a sense of how sadistic Peter was. Because in the book, that characterization was repeated, over and over. And Valentine and Peter's side story  – Demosthenes and Locke – wasn’t used anymore. So was Ender’s journey with Valentine to find a home for the queen of the buggers. I also expected Petra to be more eccentric, but here she was just goody two shoes, normal looking. And they’re exploring a romantic angle between her and Ender, not with her and Dink. 

The isolation thing was not too nicely done. Again, my basis was the book, so with what I've seen, it seemed the movie was not giving enough reason to justify the way the story’s been going. I’d have liked to see more of the Battle Room scenes in the book explored in the movie. But well, that’s the limitation of a movie adaptation. I’m not sure if Ender's brilliance was justified (like how he made sense of things), nor his frustration, nor his internal and external struggles, nor the changes in how his schoolmates and the officers saw him. The Battle Room was very nice though. And Bozo Madrid was really hateful there. A real Spanish looking warfreak smaller than Ender who just wants to get his own way.  My friend Nicole did say Asa Butterfield doesn’t have much talent to speak of. It showed. He didn’t have to act a lot. It seemed the movie was more predominated by the special effects, since of course, it was set in a more technologically advanced future.  It was just amazing though having to see the battle scenes made into something visual - like when he had to reorient himself during the final battle by saying that the enemy’s gate was down. Yeah, that was something else. And to be able to zoom in from where you are at the other side of the galaxy and zoom in right to the surface of the planet they were attacking - coolness!Well, I should watch it again once I’ve sufficiently distanced myself  from the book. Just so I could appreciate it better. 

I actually read or maybe heard somewhere that it combines stuff from Ender’s Game and Ender’s Shadow. Well, so far, all it was was the whole Ender’s Game, from beginning to end. If it was longer, it would’ve been fine. Shoot, I really wanted it to end up really really nice. Since Orson Scott Card was the producer or was he part of the screenplay (?), somehow I thought it would be okay. When I watched the trailer over a month ago, I had goosebumps. Something I love being turned into a movie. Oh, I really thought it would be epic. I have to find that aspect of it. 

Oh well, I should give it some time.

And just before launching into my impression of Ender’s Game, I watched The Internship. It seems like it was officially sanctioned by Google, because hell yeah, their setting is the actual campus in CA. Complete with the free food, slide, sleep pod, dance classes and electric cars. And two old timers, Vince Vaughn and Luke Wilson are trying to make it , to get a job even though their tech knowledge is nowhere near basic. Is that how they really get interns and eventual employees? It was really fun and challenging. I like Lyle. And the Indian girl is so beautiful. But the two main characters are really the cohesive glue of the team. I love their people skills and the veritable Geeklandia as well - they play quidditch, with brooms!  

pasta-centric and crazy days

An early birthday surprise from my penpal in Germany -
a photo she took in  Barcelona and a card she made herself

Life does never seem to fail one who has the right disposition. I'm talking mainly about myself and how I had imagined that this year would be a step back in the celebration of my turning a year older. I thought to start a tradition last year that my birthdays would from then on be celebrated away from where I reside, namely Quezon City. I've lived here for the past 10 years now this coming May, since I started my freshman year in university - the first six years within or near the vicinity of the university and the last four years still a bit nearby, at least two jeepney rides away from school.

Before last year, I often just ate out with friends or siblings to celebrate 3rds of March. And I don't know when turning a year older lost its novelty. Must be one of those times when I had much to do, seeing as March marks the end of the semester, and when my birthday comes, I'd be deep in requirements or exams. There was even one birthday when I had Chemistry exams, even though it was a Sunday. To break off the monotony, I went with my best friend to Tagaytay, I place I've heard so much about but have never set foot on. I had meant to top that off this year with a surf trip to Baler. This time, not only staying overnight but for two nights.

Well... studies did have to strike again. My inability to go was mainly spurred by the fact that I am a chronic procrastinator, and had I actually taken the time that I took off from the supposed teambuilding the other weekend to work on the report, I wouldn't have had to cancel on my surfing plans. So everything is still my fault. So much for going surfing once every month until the end of the surf season. So I put off my surfing photos... And will soon get that digiperm I had wanted to have since last year.

I didn't really mean to celebrate early. But it was the Friday night that I was supposed to be going to Baler, and a good friend just turned a year older that week as well, the 25th of February. So why not celebrate our birthdays together, midway between the two dates? We went to a place I've wanted to try for a long time now, Bellini's in Cubao. I had a creamy seafood pesto, she had their puttanesca, and we shared a salami-topped pizza, capped off by some sweet wine. Lovely meal. We were even able to watch the owner in action - still very Italian after all these years in the Philippines.

The next evening, I schemed with another friend whom I haven't talked to for quite a while now, since we already have different work schedules. We went to another place I've never tried before - Banapple. They have huge servings for the same cost than in other pasta places. We were both so full even if we haven't finished our main courses yet, and we each still had one slice of cake to eat. I tried out their Apple Pie - sehr lecker! They used actual apple slices, and not mashed up ones that you just know would contain something else than apple. Then it was another first for me as I welcomed my birthday with alcohol. I only told my friend I was celebrating my birthday once we entered the grounds of Cubao X. There, I guess in hindsight, I could say that I should be careful about what I wish for for I just might get it. I did have this ongoing theme of what one of my friends could give me for my birthday. Well, when I thought about it later, there it was. And until now, I'm still not decided on it. I had a detached sort of objective view about it, but I've never really fully revisited it to form a definitive reaction and decision.

I decided to actually have some food for my birthday at home, which I never did before. It was all part of a good vibe (which temporarily faltered - another story for another time) I had going and I got to sustain it so I pushed through with it. After having three hours of sleep and some breakfast, I finalized my plan without telling my housemates why I was doing it. Only my siblings knew, and I had already texted my sister who is living in Manila to come by for snacks. I had planned on having pizza, pasta and nachos, not realizing that I've already had pasta for two consecutive days before this. Well, pasta has been a mainstay for birthdays - my mom cooked spaghetti with meat sauce everytime we had birthdays at home. So as the bulk of the foodstuffs, it was inevitable. I bought the ingredients after lunch. My older cousin came with me, and instead of nachos, we just bought a big bag of tortilla chips with lime flavor, and then opted for cake. Now, when the word cake came to me, I immediately thought about Conti's Mango Bravo. I was shocked by the price, but nevertheless went on with it because I had a good feeling about it, even though I last ate this many years ago.


Well, the celebrations didn't stop there. I had a date with two good friends to watch Silver Linings Playbook. I was intrigued by this movie title last January when that was what I got for charades at a party - which, when my groupmates got correctly really made me ecstatic, since I'm not really good at acting out things for people to guess about. I saw on an ad though, that the film won some awards. And it didn't look like a really serious film, nothing like the likes of Inception or the Departed (pardon the very old films - I'm no longer updated these days). So off did I watch it without any expectations. And I loved it! We were laughing at almost every turn. Of course, if that was happening to me or someone I know, it would be very frustrating indeed. How about if not only one, but your husband and two sons were suffering from some sort of mental illness as well? I can't even begin to imagine... The treatment is just lovely! We laugh at the inanity of it all, but still, we're there rooting for the characters to rise above it all. (And hullo, Bradley Cooper! I didn't know you before but glad to know you now, haha!) So I believe it's now one of my favorite films. Some of the lines that really made me laugh out loud:

  The first time they meet

B. Cooper: You look nice. 
J. Lawrence: Thank you. 
B. Cooper: Oh, I'm not flirting with you. 
J. Lawrence: Oh, I didn't think you were. 
B. Cooper: I just see that you made an effort, and I'm gonna be better with my wife. I'm working on that. I wanna acknowledge her beauty. I never used to do that. I do now. Just practicing. How'd Tommy die? [Lawrence looks shocked and sad] 
--> This after being reminded to not ask her about how her husband died. 

    Lawrence starting to teach Cooper how to dance

J. Lawrence: No walk, no letter. Walk to me like I'm Nikki. Do it, come on, I'm Nikki.
B. Cooper: You're not Nikki.
[does the walk anyway]
J. Lawrence: Yes! Do you feel that? That's emotion.
B. Cooper: I don't feel anything.

Oh, another side note: Julia Stiles is way mature here - with kids and eyebags and a propensity to dismiss the little things. Whereas a few weeks ago, I just saw her on 10 Things I Hate About You at the office's Valentine presentation. Talk about the realization that you're finally old!

Oh yeah, I had pesto a few days afterward as well. Still had some leftover pasta from the big birthday cookout and the pesto sauce that I wasn't able to use then. And the aroma of pesto sauce -- it just gets to me! It's addicting, couldn't get enough of it! One of the reasons why I would so like to live in Italy.

So what was it about disposition that I was talking about? Well, a healthy sense of self and reality enables one to turn disappointments and downtimes into one of the best times or memories of one's life. Think about it.

Christmas this time around

there aren't many images of tropical Christmas love so here

Christmas was pleasanter this time around. Even if it wasn't the same magical thing I've come to expect, a hangover from childhood as most everyone can attest to, in some respects it was more meaningful as I came to expect goodness and time spent with people who matter to you. It wasn't much about the material things. They were just secondary to showing how much you care for your loved ones. It was the first time I've felt this way. Must be some people's penchant for giving gifts rubbing off on me. It's kinda my first time to deliberately think about what to give not just for one or two people. In the beginning, thinking about what to give kinda paralyzed me. Well, once I was at the department store and shopping with a friend, somehow the choice became a bit easier. Indeed, it was fun wrapping them up later that night, discovering ways on how to give those department store wrapping personnel a run for the money. I also managed to watch both Gegen die Wand and Solino, which would be the basis for part of our group report report for my German class. They were very well made.

It was a really good time for me, making the most of wrapping up presents and watching well-developed stories. One about trying to break away from the conservative ways of family while trying to maintain the status quo with the housemate/husband she's come to start loving and how that same love has also changed the ways of a womanizing, troublemaking drunkard who, after his time in prison is now a reformed man. It's their chance to be what they once were, now that they are mature. The other one is about a smart Italian boy who grows up in Germany amidst the family's restaurant boom. He's influenced by a filmmaker who uses their restaurant as a location, and teaches him on some basic but fundamental things. His chance for a breakthrough comes but his Mom is finally diagnosed and, after finding out her husband has been cheating on her, goes back to their old village Solino and he has no choice but to go with her. His jealous older brother then steals the chance he made for himself along with his girlfriend. It is many years later when he's got kids and is about to marry that they reconcile. However, still no hope for the father who chose to stick with his pride.

Might I point out that things were also made the more pleasanter (now that I've started this whole compare/contrast thing) because I've fully healed from whatever heartbreak I was suffering from the past year. Indeed, I was even about to cry before Noche Buena last year. Since none of those thoughts or scenes repeated themselves this year, then I can safely say that that guy did have more than an effect on me (more than healthy in fact) than I would sometimes claim. That's not to say I'm entirely immune to whatever it was that had me going for him for some time. I can't help but be ambivalent about his actions and behavior in the office given that he's not the most popular person there right now. My whole team, even my TL, don't really hold him in good regard. Same goes with some, most(?) other employees... It's like this is him and the very few who stand by him on one side, and the rest of the office is on the other side. It's that bad. And where am I? Right there in the middle. Oh, if only he could be understood and he could understand better as well. All it takes is a little consideration, methinks.

Anyway, when he went to our part of the floor earlier last night to offer the VTO and I was then standing around since I was on offline, he still managed to acknowledge me. Not that I was expecting otherwise. But he also managed to blurt out a 'happy new year' and then looking at the list he was holding, much to the amusement (?) of one of my teammates who heard him. Dare I say that somehow warmed me? That in spite of all the tension and bad blood between my team and him (my teammates jeer on him and cheer on the failures his team is experiencing), he's still recognizing our connection, dare I say it, to even greet me, in front of them. I just want to make clear that there's nothing on my end anymore. It's just the after effects of the before. And this kind of attention from someone you craved attention from before is not so unwelcome, even if there should be no kind of expectation on my part anymore. It's more like a childhood crush that won't go away, moreso because of all the good feelings that person engenders. Really. And my girlfriends have concluded that it does take a certain type of guy to have that effect on you, sometimes no matter what they did or didn't do. Mine's not exactly your usual goodlooking guy, mind you. And until someone, with a stronger effect who can make you forget about all that, comes along, you'll be stuck in this same limbo for sometime. Well, that's it. I'm just airing out my feelings for one part of this whole nasty thing that's been going on for a while, long before I even had this week-long vacation from work, and with no one to share this to... There's the excuse right there in this Christmas-related post.

beautiful Malèna's plight

Since my friend wasn't replying about the exact address of where we were supposed to go earlier this afternoon (net was down so I couldn't check), I had an impromptu movie day. Been watching Italian films lately. This time, I plopped down to Malèna. I first watched this film during my freshman year nine years ago at the then UP Film Center. It was unlike anything I've ever mostly seen at that time. Sure, I had the occasional trips to Video City, but then they consisted mostly of - aside from the mainstream ones - mostly Chinese films, classics, the critically-acclaimed ones which don't really sell in the box office, and an occasional wayward one like Thailand's The Beautiful Boxer. I'm not sure when my sensibilities for non-mainstream, critically-acclaimed foreign language films began, but it was probably around the time I saw this, and some other films in that same all-ratings-allowed cinema.

I had the impression then that this film had a high attendance especially among the hormonal male population of UP because of the high probability of seeing nudity and/or sex, like Y Tu Mamá También, the mention of which is almost often accompanied by a sort of dismissive 'yeah-it's-all-that' tone, or so I imagine. So watch I did, and indeed, it's true there was nothing that the UP Film Center wouldn't show, as my later viewing of Y Tu Mamá También proved (most graphic film I ever saw there). The newness of it all may have not left very distinct impressions on me. I never fully understood it then, except that here was a widow who was fancied by all, as well as this boy who was in love with her and kept tabs on her, until she finally became the whore everyone was proclaiming her to be at the beginning, and then they finally turned on her as a whore and traitor for playing with the German colonizers.

Now, I understand and empathize with Malèna Scordia better. Her beauty and body are legendary, as evidenced by the scores of men and women who would watch her as she walked the streets on one of her sojourns to her Dad's abode. She dressed differently, more beautifully than all the other women. The first time she was shown walking to her Dad's place, I marveled at the distance she covered, the fact that she's in heels and that she broke not one sweat. Talk about almost perfect haha. Do they not sweat in Italy when they walk through their coastal abodes, through the city, in the dress norm of years ago of full length dress or blouse and skirt, stockings and heels?

Her story is told through the eyes of Renato, who was finding out about her and becoming his own man as he grew up under Mussolini, and then later on, the German occupation of Italy, and their little island of Sicily. Unlike everyone who sees her as just some ass to fuck, Renato, despite his fantasies about her, feels genuinely for her - her loneliness, how the townspeople say bad things about her, everyone who used her body when she realized it was one of the tools she had to survive, her eventual departure after she was publicly tortured and defamed. It did not help Malèna's case that she was not from there, and not nine months after she was married, her husband had to be called away for the war. Then news of her husband's death came, and here she was a young widow, available for anyone who came calling. The talks about her became nastier and nastier as everyone's husband, boyfriend, father and son were entranced by her. Less than honorable men took advantage of her, one at a time. Then a change of government came, and she jumped into pleasuring men wholeheartedly. There was another local whore of course and less beautiful, but it was only Malèna who, when Sicily was liberated, bore the ire of the townswomen as they dragged her to the plaza by her hair, kicked, punched and stomped on her. Clothes ripped and bloodied, that was the only time she ever showed any emotion to the general public. Then she left her house and was never seen again, until her husband, who actually only lost one arm and was not dead, came back. It was the anonymously watching Renato who told Signor Scordia about everything that happened since he left. And one day, everyone was surprised by Signor and Signora Scordia walking together arm in arm back to their home. Later, the very same women who initiated the public defamation of Malèna were the first ones to greet her in the market, testing her.

Renato watching her as she makes this change in her life

Her plight is a very sad one. Only Renato knew how much she loved and longed for her husband while she was away. And because she was not from their town, she had no friends. Her beauty was the cause of much envy, and stories evolved into something malignant, that she had to face court, only to be betrayed by someone whom she thought reciprocated her feelings as well. She was having a hard time getting even food since it was wartime, and so had to resort to using her body. It saddens me that men and women see the woman's body as something to use for pleasure. If she was beautiful and her husband was away, for sure she's getting it on with some man. Oh, she only had to look and she'd seduce one's husband. During her father's funeral, the men lined up to express their condolence while taking the chance to touch her. Nobody had a clue to her thoughts and feelings. Weighed down by convention and the restrictions of that period, she couldn't make a living for herself, relying instead on her pension, which was eventually cut off. And then, that's when she accepted what she had to do to live.

It reminded me a bit about Easy A someways into the film. Both had heroines who were ostracized because of the illusion of their being sex symbols, and the stories that defined and destroyed their lives. Malèna had to conform to the traditional image so that she would be accepted by the community. It was only when she walked arm in arm with her husband did the townspeople form a different opinion of her. In the market later on, it was only then that someone, the very same person who hurt her, greeted her in public. When she responded, it seemed she passed a test. The vendors then started talking to her, offering their cheaper produce, one even giving her a coat she was looking at for free.

I'm glad I didn't have to live during those times. The vicious nature of women, the lack of open-mindedness, the need to know and gossip about everyone in your community - it would be so horrible once you're the object and you have no one to turn to. Even though Renato started following her as part of his fantasies, his resourcefulness to see more of her allowed him a glimpse into a private life no one knew, which shaped much of his sensibilities as he changed from a boy to a young man, though not without exasperating his parents, especially his dad.

I did feel strongly for Bellucci's character. Even though beauty can get you somehwere, it still is only skin-deep and can lead to one's downfall. I'm glad her husband still wanted her back after everything that happened.

thoughts from the bedlam

So this is how it feels like to not have to set your phone's alarm clock, to hopefully wake up to, some four hours after you've lain down; to not have to absorb all those information, exercising your brain cells to comprehend the logic and rules of the thing three hours a day four days a week; to reread Dune leisurely without a care of what else you're supposed to be doing (except maybe answering all those letters and postcards) and be truly excited that you're finally reading again, this time for pure pleasure...

You have all these unbidden thoughts swirling in your head and one just leads right to the other...

One day, you're reveling in the fact that it was Stiles's Katarina Stratford character in one of your favorite movies that got you into this whole non-conformist semi-feminist mode you've been in since, well, probably the first time you saw that movie and that love is a bad boy but sweet character, and a non-conformist like you, a la Heath's Pat Verona, who will break your heart at first, but who will eventually find the error of his ways because, well, he realizes he does love you and that his world won't be right without you.

And no matter how much of a non-conformist and an independent gal you think you are, do you think the world sees just how shallow or deep you've gone? For that matter, does the world really care? What have you really done to further that aspect of yourself? You're proud of that self-proclaimed label, but is that how others really perceive you? You claim to know a lot of things, but really, all the things you know just skim the surface of the topic... shallow, isn't it?

You say you want to do this, you want to be that... but have you done anything to be one step closer to achieving those? It's been years since you've determined to set out for those things. Isn't it high time that you're seeing results now?

You've prided yourself all this time about how much information your brain has accumulated and could retrieve at any point in time, excelling in general information in quiz bee categories back in elementary. It's true: knowledge is power. However, have you done anything to capitalize on all that knowledge? Even now, when you know what things you like to focus on and how you seem to understand the inner workings of and the external influences that affect certain stuff, have you ever had any impetus to put all those to good use for your development as a person, or even as a careerwoman? Well, impetus, yes; follow up actions, no.

It's seemed that you've just been content to ride the tides, doing as little as possible to stay afloat but still exist a bit comfortably compared to many. Too comfortable in fact that, even though reality shows you that brains and some personality alone don't get a guy, but all the efforts you muster for your appearance and equal amounts wiliness, you remain resolute and somehow content to let this moment in time pass by.

Despite knowing all this, still you remain, non-girlfriend material girl (yes, you've finally realized and admitted it), a bit oblivious, a bit naive, a bit idealistic, a bit unchanging, and a bit hopeful, all in almost equal measure.

*football days once more...

I haven't seen any football action lately - not on TV nor for myself. Of course, I'd think about it every now and then. Whenever I happen to pass through the General Antonio Luna Parade Grounds aka the UP Sunken Garden, I'd look out and see if I could recognize any of the ball-toting players on the field. But I know that FC Sikad has made the QC Memorial Circle its home these past few months, so no chance of any familiar faces in the place I spent four years on as my playground. In fact, one time when I was remembering my college days, I could distinctly see myself in the Sunken Garden, not anywhere else in UP. It brought back not images of laboratory experiments or libraries but green grass, patches of soil and people in variously colored jerseys running around with a ball.

Playing 7-a-side football in the Ateneo field sometime in 2007

My college life was defined by football. I couldn't get enough of it. I'd play after class, on weekends, even if I have upcoming exams, after lab experiments doing my thesis. Now, I've had zilch for how many months. One reason for this is that my spikes have seen fit to retire after some 6 years of on and off usage. And then during the days that there are schedules for futsal training, I am unable to go because of my work schedule. 

Puddles of water everywhere, mud flying, the ball hardly moving

resting in between games - cold, muddy and all

So last week, with school finally over (I'm amazed at my German 13 grade - I could do it, couldn't I? - as opposed to my German 12 - dang those imperatives which were tackled when I absented myself from class - and my Hapon 10 and 11 grades are ^_^), I had nothing else to do but indulge in my whims if not attending to needed chores. I decided to watch a La Liga game since I couldn't play, I might as well watch one of the best teams in the world show how it is to play beautiful football. Thank goodness for 1 Terabyte hard drives and fellow football fans and friends, one of whom has long ago shared with me some of the games she's downloaded (we're both Barca fans after all).

I watched a game from the 2010-2011 season of the Spanish Premiere League (La Liga for short), an away game for FC Barcelona against Atletic de Bilbao. Messi has been injured so I unfortunately couldn't watch him. But it was still interesting for me because I would see how a team without its great #10 play. And at the onset, they didn't disappoint. All the players were full of energy once the whistle went off, Barca more so, retaining possession at a little more than 70%. Perfect passes, short passes, moving the ball around and forward, the defenders ready to support the attack and midfield, anticipating each other's moves and moving into space... I only know so much of playing the game and very little of tactics that I can't really describe the game accurately. But you know this is top class football. There was even that amazing control by Andres Iniesta close to the goal line to keep the ball in play. Deym! Football in the Philippines doesn't even come close to this level. I, with my own football dreams, have no hopes of reaching this level. So you'd just be content to watch and wish you could do the same. It was also raining hard during the first half and every ball fought hard for that I could remember my own days in Sunken. I miss playing in the rain. Everyone of us would have muddy socks and shoes, and even shirts and shorts afterwards but it's not much of a hassle as long as you enjoyed. The hassle comes later when it's time to wash your gear. Everyone's happy after a game. After the game, we'd stay after changing our clothes and even getting a bite together afterwards. And the workout after hasn't been matched by anything I've ever tried since. I really miss playing! If only injuries could be easily flicked away so that you can just play on as hard as ever and you can just play for life and not have to do anything else...

After expertly trapping the ball with his instep close to the goal line, Andres Iniesta prepares to flick the ball back to a teammate before its second bounce - wish I have videos or gifs so you'll the awesomeness better :(  

While watching, there was also the realization that football has a long way to go before being entrenched into our culture. The Atletic Bilbao and Barca fans, like most of Europe's, were all prepared to watch and for the weather. They have the stadiums that can seat tens of thousands of people and everyone besides the teams and refs were wearing raincoats and whatever else they need to keep dry and sufficiently waterproofed. Filipinos haven't seen the beauty of raincoats yet - almost nobody wears that here even during the storm season. The last game of the national team I watched was so long ago, during the home game of the first leg of our WC qualifier against Sri Lanka in July last year. I bought a raincoat for the event but the quality available here is not so good. Others sneaked in their folding umbrellas which the bouncers eventually had to tell them to close since it was obstructing the view of the other viewers. So many could do nothing but get wet. It would have been better if I just watched it at home since I didn't see how the goals were made, the game being fast-paced and occurring on the other side of the pitch, or else, the view obstructed by the players themselves. We didn't have preview screens on the pitch. I daresay there isn't one till now. Our side of the pitch was also not getting updates about the score so we were just wondering for a time.

raincoat-wearing fans

So it is in my bucket list to watch a top flight football game in Europe and feel the frenzy and the energy of the fans and the game... And also witness a World Cup match live. Woo!

Then my brother arrived from school and saw me watching football. He said he wanted to watch the third Goal movie, expecting more of the football action he saw from the first two installments. He was disappointed. The third movie dealt more with the pressures of professional football. The Mexican character of Santiago Munez was just a support here and he even got injured, making him ineligible for the 2006 World Cup. One of the other supporting cast starred in some obscure Dracula-inspired movie where he met the love of his life. And then he had to die. So we see the thread of this movie - the less glitzy side of this profession and the  mature and personal side of footballers. The main character relies on alcohol everyday and he actually fathered a child whose mother decided not to tell him about it. Then the death of his friend kind of put things into perspective for him and we have a happy ending. Pretty unemotional to say the least.

Afterwards, I decided to watch FC Venus again, to be exposed this time to the feminine view of the game. It was just an ordinary movie for me the first time I saw it. Anna's boyfriend plays in the 7th division in Finland (the lowest division, so I hear). He and his teammates, most of whom are husbands and fathers, have dedicated their lives to football, making their families only second priority. Anna recruited their WAGs (wives and girlfriends) to form their own football team and when they win a game against the guys, the guys are to hand over the money they were going to be spending to watch '06 WC in Germany. If the guys win, then they will not hear any complaint about football from the women ever again. A tall order, considering that none of the women play or know anything about the game, except for Anna. In fact, she played very competitively when she was younger, resulting in a knee injury that she never got treated for. Her father is one of the more famous coaches around the world, that at her young age, he had to leave because he was given the chance to coach Korea. So that in effect, is why Anna had this personal vendetta against football, given what she had gone through for it in the past. She didn't want football to take away the men in the women's lives just as how it separated her and her Dad. This initially led to some problems in her relationship as the guy did not know a thing about her footballing past. And then she had to reject his marriage proposal and it was like everything was over for good. Just as it seemed that things were patching up between her and her Dad, the rift flared up once more, as she still hasn't come to terms with her Dad's job taking him far away from her.

I cried so hard in this movie. I haven't cried this much since April last year, and even then, not for a film. I tried watching it again to be able to pinpoint what it was that touched me about this. I guess it was the fact that here is an independent woman who knows what she wants and yet achieving it is a lot of uphill struggle, even pain. The helplessness is pretty overwhelming and it just drags you down for a time. First, she failed with her father. The next time, she failed over the person she loves. And we women, we don't just consider ourselves. With our nurturing nature, we consider the other people in our lives with the decisions we make. Anna didn't have anybody else, but when I think about myself in those terms and what I must live up to, everything can get pretty taxing.

That was the end of my football viewing for that 24-hour cycle. But this foray has brought me back into the arms of football, so maybe a day or two after, I decided to continue reading A Life Too Short by Ronald Reng. This book is a look into the tragedy that took the life of 32-year old Hannover 96 and Germany's keeper Robert Enke.

I started reading this a few months and distractions come and go so I was only able to finish it now. In the beginning, I was amazed into the new insights I was getting about football, in terms of team dynamics and politics - the old players versus the newer ones, the younger versus the older, the lone foreigner among the native players, being in a new country and speaking a new language, and especially goalkeepers. During our trainings, we all trained as field players. If we had a semi-official goalie, she didn't have specialized training, relying only on her skills and talent to try to keep a clean sheet. Most of us don't want to be on goal when we're playing either on the field or futsal. So it was a revelation to find out what goalies think about when they're in a game, their moves and tactics. Sure, I see amazing saves every now and then on TV, but I've never imagined how much analysis, effort and practice is needed to achieve that level of play-reading, instinct, tactics and reflexes needed at the right moment to not allow or lessen any chances of the opponent to score.

I've heard about Robert Enke around August of 2010 when the Mannschaft fans over at LJ mentioned him in a post about the national team (die Mannschaft) players paying him tribute. (This team is all about team spirit and I love them so much because of it.) That he took his life even though he's on goal for the national team was a fact I casually glossed over as I went to more of the juicy pics and posts, until someone got a hold of this book and shared it. I downloaded it out of curiosity.

Robert is said to be one of the more modern players; he was among the generation of players to start playing for clubs abroad. He first played for Benfica in Portugal, and it is evident how much he loved the country as he and his wife Teresa loved to vacation there. Then he was snapped up by Barca, then under Louis van Gaal. But contrary to what he was promised, he barely appeared for the team. A young Victor Valdes was usually on goal after the first choice keeper suffered an injury. And there is a shock when he is suddenly asked to play against a lower tier team, an amateur by their standards, and they lose.

Next, he makes a move to Turkey but the depression has already hit him and all of a sudden, he turns around and is unemployed for a season until 2nd division Tenerife in Spain snaps him up. The last move he makes is to Hannover where he played for four years and was even named captain. And it is at this time that he is finally given the chance to man the goals for die Mannschaft, with the end of the Kahn-Lehmann era. But all through those years, he still remembers the good days in Lisbon and why he ever left the place.

I don't know the player  on the left and Per Mertesacker on the right, playing for die Mannschaft

When you're a talented sportsman, intrigue is never far, especially since you're in the public eye. And since goalkeepers are the last line of defense, it can get pretty difficult to not blame yourself about goals conceded. Many goalkeepers have certainly come to terms with this but maybe for some, it is just a tad bit more difficult. There is the pressure of living up to the coach's, team's and fans' expectations. But I believe all these could be dealt with.

It was written that Robert Enke is one of the people who is susceptible to the depression. So no matter what the circumstances, the black dog would just appear out of nowhere even if there's no logical explanation as to why. He suffered from it twice; once in 2003 from which he eventually recovered, and then the second time in 2009 from which he decided it was better to end his suffering by ending his life. It was in this latter part of his depression that I felt I could relate to what he went through. Reng wrote that the pitfall of depression is that it makes you feel you can't do anything, and yet when you don't, you'll feel all the more depressed because of this failure. Just like me. I even had suicidal thoughts when I was younger, in late elementary or early high school, I think. I've gone past thinking such thoughts. But in the last decade, I've felt really, depressingly down a lot of times. The latest ones have lasted for days and after that point, I still don't seem to know what to do with myself to prevent my feeling inadequate in the future, and I'm just whiling away my time, enjoying myself until the next self-bashing hits me again. The pattern lately is that after a time of feeling joy, happiness or euphoria over what has happened (e.g. good times with friends) or what is about to happen (usually some sort of travel I'm excited about), my mind automatically veers towards that dark path. I don't know if I"m telling myself that I don't deserve to experience joy, but all of a sudden, I'd lose my enthusiasm for life. And I'd just lie in bed wallowing in it, not talking to anyone. And I'd berate myself for wasting a lot of time thinking about it instead of just doing something. But I'd still go on doing it. And then somehow the darkness will lift. And II'll be alright again... until the next bout.

I've never thought of suicide since I stepped into college so that's a positive sign. I just don't know how to rally myself when I feel down.

From the book, I saw more of what depression does to a person and to the people surrounding him, especially since Enke is a goalkeeper, a team captain, a friend, a father and husband. It was helpful that he wrote some notes so we got an insight on what his thoughts and emotions were.

Ending a life is really sad. Deceiving everyone that all is well because he's finally come to terms with what he's about to do - it's not surprising that many are shocked, most of all the people who knew him as an intelligent and sensitive person, a professional in a field when others reveled in the intrigue and media glitz. He didn't like competing with his fellow goalkeepers, even becoming close to Rene Adler who was his top competitor for the first choice position in the national team. I believe I'm not as an extreme of a case as he was, but I do wish that I'd see more beautiful things in my life and avoid dragging myself down.

Last minute addition: I just read yesterday that Ronaldo has retired from football. It was a battle between his body and the game and he could no longer keep up with the demands of the sport with the hyperthyroidism thwarting his efforts to maintain his weight. I wasn't aware of him at the time he was at his peak, only hearing mentions of his name with no proof of his skills, so I couldn't really sympathise with fans of the #9 who wowed the world (and now I know where my friend got his email address ronaldo_the_phenom  - from the man himself). But it is not the best news to find out that one is retiring from the game you love because sickness has gotten the better of your body.


* It's pretty sad that I'm using this title not because I'm playing again, but because I'm experiencing football once more but only from second- and even third-hand accounts. Life is really complicated. You can't just get what you want anymore. 

films, stories and languages

I just came from my Film 100 class, the introductory class taken by Film majors in UP. We were supposed to cover film form and basic writing about film. What was great about the class is that with the variety of viewpoints presented by my classmates who are from the College of Mass Communication, taking either Film, Broadcast Communication or Communication Research, they are steeped in communication theories and other social interactions that I, with a background in food technology, had no access to. It was entirely new, giving me a different perspective on how classes could be held

Towards the end of the discussion, our professor asked the film majors why they were taking up this course. Since the film majors in the class were freshies, they were still a bit unsure of why they're taking the course. The question ignited something in me that I shared my reason if ever I was taking up BA Film.

I mentioned that filmmaking is a different kind of storytelling. I am involved in film seeing it as an art form, as another means of self-expression. I am amazed at how a concept, given a certain kind of treatment, applied a certain kind of technique in terms of lighting, the kind of shots used and sequencing employed, scoring and using ambient sound, manipulating the colors, putting certain design elements, the emotions conveyed by the actors, the interplay of all these elements with the narrative - these all just make me go wow. I've been reading movie reviews and it always amazes me how such writers are able to have these kinds of readings into the films they're viewing and moreso, being able to write about them. Notwithstanding the need to express yourself, but since film is mainly made for others to see, you have a means of possibly making a mark even if only in a few people - making them think a certain way about a certain thing, providing them a fresh awareness of something others have tackled before letting them see it in a new light.

I was in a sort of high after I briefly spoke about it. It's like I was at that point where I knew now what I wanted to do. And then while walking, I gleaned that I have always been interested in stories. As a child, I read a lot of books from the school library, delving into the classics when there was nothing else available, reading the novels my mom kept in the top tier of our single shelf at home, delighting in watching movies, being intrigued by the design elements in film (I think the first one I saw which showed me film's wondrous possibilities was Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas - watching it with my siblings after Noche Buena when I was probably 8 or 9 years old). Then I started reading fanfiction on the internet and tried to come up with my own. I was mostly unsuccessful in putting them into writing but it hasn't stopped me from making up stories in my head. I've become a fan of Neil Gaiman's Sandman mainly because of the intricate world he makes up and the incredible developments in his characters - introducing a very varied bunch of characters wholly unconnected with each other in the beginning and then tying up all the loose ends so that you get a coherent ending by the end of the nine volumes, and still telling a GRAND story. Significantly, his novels also take place in modern day with elements of the fantastic and I believe it would take an ingenious mind such as him, or Tolkien (the latter of a level different to Gaiman's), to come up with stories like those. I also admire Haruki Murakami because of his different way of telling his stories. He introduces unconventional characters into his stories, possibly attributable to his Japanese/Asian origin, putting them into unconventional situations but still he makes you understand the conflicts, to sympathize with the characters even if the plot itself is a little bit out of this world. I may say that it is due to the psychic nature of Asian culture which is not so unheard of in these lands compared to the West, that I am accepting of the realities he shows in his stories. The stories could be taking place in real time or in the heads of the characters. And when you realize what's up, it just blows my mind away. Sandman was mindblowing as well. Neverwhere is my favorite among Gaiman's novels and it is incredibly amazing.

So going back to my previous train of thought. I have seriously thought about writing that I've even set aside a writing month after I resigned from my first job. Then I tried to keep up with Nanowrimo for 2 years before I decided it's not for me. But failing those, I still do feel that I have to tell stories. Film has been a companion for many years now, even compelling me to join a film-oriented organization in college, joining mainly because I wanted to know how to create my own film. I guess it's the concept that I have to come up with now since the technology is there to make own film if you're really motivated to, and of course friends who I can ask help from. So letting that out in class today, I feel like I've stumbled upon what I want to do.

And then I remember that yesterday in my German class, our teacher Ms. Petersen shared that her background is linguistics and that grammar is her favorite part, as is mine with studying English or any other languages (except Filipino/Tagalog). Also aside from German, she knows Spanish, Bahasa Indonesia, there was probably one or two more European languages in there and Latin. And that's because she has been studying languages for 15 years already. I was talking with my usual seatmate Alex afterwards and I was like I also want to learn the things she has learned that I was thinking linguistics might be a better field of study (for a second degree) compared to European languages (which has been one of my thrusts for some years now).

So now, my enthusiasm for filmmaking has been dampened by this realization that I equally want to do the languages thing for the rest of my forseeable life. It is a question that will have to be answered years down the road. For now, I am thankful that I have taken all these subjects I am taking now - Film 100, German 12-13 and Hapon 10-11. Even I have no definite plan yet about my career or my academic studies, I am continuously opening myself up to possibilities. Years down the road, I will be able to look back and connect the dots leading me to that point in my life. Hopefully.