"Gone Girl" and its claws

                 (photo: ropeofsilicon.com) 

Who would miss a David Fincher film? That’s a question one could ignore but with his “The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo,” I was convinced. I also came through The New York Times Best Sellers List two years ago and saw Gillian Flynn’s “Gone Girl” on top of it but failed to read the book… after immersing myself for two hours on her screenplay, I guess I became a convert.

These days, there’s too much reviews on the film that one would be confused whom to believe or not. But it would be wise not to allow someone else’s voice to nudge you in your thought processes but make your own opinion. That’s the beauty of viewing well-crafted films, you will be compelled to think.

Flynn’s collaboration with Fincher became a marriage of sorts. The outcome became some kind of a journey to your own stands on the issues and realities of being married. I know I’m not but I always be the sounding board of my friends when times get rough.

“Gone Girl” is about a husband who is looking for his wife who went missing. The story then unravels allowing the viewer to make the husband as the suspect and when he is almost sure that murder happened, the wife’s real intentions slap him on the face. Then, after seeing how evil the wife could be, the viewer will then wish that the husband would murder her.

Fincher is indeed a master on directing his actors. Ben Affleck (Nick Dunne) is good enough to look both the suspect and the victim, his controlled arrogance seethes. Rosamund Pike is also one hell of an actress who could shift expressions from a lovable one to a mean woman.

Then it caught me. I wanted Amy to be convicted or be dead for all her hideous plots and sick lies. But why won’t I wish Nick harm where in fact he is also a villain on their marriage with his infidelity, selfishness and bum-ish traits? Did I fall into the trap of gender bias?

With domestic conflicts, we sometimes fail to look on both sides of the stories. If we are the wife’s friend, we then paint a bad picture on the husband not wanting to know whether the wife is just trying to justify her quirks and emotional hang ups. If we are also buddies with the hubby, and he aired his story vividly, we would drink till the wee hours to drown in alcohol with him for sympathy. 

But the truth is out there…

“Gone Girl” is fascinating. Basically, this is in the mystery/thriller genre but it shows the unsettling realities of having relationships. It’s the up-front fact that with a partner, there is always a competition on who is the fittest. Some wives/husbands thought that they are the ONE only to find out late that their partners exceed their expectations.

When the film ended and lights flooded inside the cinema, I saw the same expressions from the four viewers of the last full show: fear. They’re probably wondering what they or their partners are capable of.

Just did it!

                                           (photo: Nike.Basketball)

While doing choreography, I would rant on the technical aspects of the dance: Promenade must be executed well! Point your toes while on a kick! Find your center! Perfection on the pas de deux…

But, basketball?

There are times when I could feel the tension of the TV viewers on the NBA games and would sometimes hear some curses after one lost a bet. I don’t question their passion for I understand being passionate into something. I often talk about the very good cinematography of Nine Inch Nails’ “A Perfect Drug” music video and would see blank expressions from my companions. I could go on and on describing the work of Mia Michaels and Travis Wall and will be brushed off by my friends. That’s why I understand myself when I ward them off as well when they talk about how the Spurs’ victory affects them.

I was then pushed to the world of basketball when our brother got hooked with it. I thought it was just another “phase” since he was into dancing, tennis, badminton and even strumming the guitar (which incidentally brought me to Cebu’s Carbon Market and scourged the good guitars from the Queen City of the South)… I would be irked when he misses tasks in favor of shooting baskets.

He then insisted on buying basketball shoes so not to injure his feet. First, I ignored the request since I thought that any rubber shoes would be OK. It was when I insisted on the use of the proper ballroom shoes to a pair of dancers when I realized the point of buying the right shoes for him.

Lately, I went to Cebu again for a friend’s wedding and got the time of my life as my sister and I went to a shoe store and the two of us were amazed on the kaleidoscopic colors of these basketball gear. She shrieked in horror as I tried fitting on a pair with comic strips printed on the pair in neon colors!

I also realized that signature shoes like that of Lebron and Durant have their own colors that allowed us to see a different side of fashion and function. I was fixated on that green ensemble from Lebron but then again my sister raised hell not to consider the color since our brother is into earth tones. How the hell would he manage to sport a look with shoes similar to a “katsila” (bettle)?

In the end I bought a KD for myself and a Lebron for the sibling. When the bill came, we thought we were on dreamland. We could’ve bought a ticket for Singapore for such amount. But then, what matters most is the affection we nurtured with each other.

Life is short. Just do it!

Full Time

                                                    (photo: topnettools.com)

I am a full-time Facebook worker.

 I devote 97 percent of my waking time ogling the pictures posted. I like reading the shout outs of others and sometimes laugh at their stupidity. I follow the movements of my virtual friends and sometimes, feel sorry for them…They’re so pathetic! They would post their selfies without preparing themselves to be presentable – sometimes they reek of poverty and ugliness!

I’m a full-time Facebook worker.

I know the latest word wars and the scandals posted on this social network! I wince on the grammatical errors of those who dare to post their twisted sentences and I laugh out loud in my room for their sorry situations.

Yes, I’m better than them. I often criticize the way they present their ideas. I always anchor on freedom of speech and opinions but I could not take on their shallow ideas! How dare these imbeciles populate on these grounds? This is my world and the mistakes I commit could be justified. Theirs are purely out of this world!

I like doing springboards on breaking relationships. Friendships must run amok. Lovers must throw negative comments on each other. I like talking about the latest feuds… It’s a nice way to start a conversation – other’s pains!

There are instances when I talk about things in the real world of what’s happening in the Facebook world. I would grimace on the ignorance of others when they tell me that they do not do FB. How could they miss these chances of a lifetime? I do not get alarmed when I would blurt out things I learn from FB. Why should I, that is the normal thing now!

No, I’m not sick. I am just observant, right? 

There are also instances when I sign up for fake identities and feel a sense of exhilaration when I could hurt others. I have this…powerful fluttering inside my heart. It’s like being high from a virtual drug. I could sense the power in me every time I could do something on these lesser beings. 

Why should I read books instead? The pages of those bound paper is not in vogue! I could skim the e-books linked on FB. There are free apps which could be downloaded. Who cares if these are not properly edited and are being digested by editors? I dislike those faggots who often yack on their latest reads! In FB, the people themselves are the books I like reading!

Yes, I’m a full-time Facebook worker. And I could feel that we are many. There might be a time when we will conquer not just the virtual world but the real one.

In FB, it’s like playing God… nay, it is like BEING God.

Crystal Clear

                                                           (blogs.nd.edu)

He realized he has lung cancer. 

It's very ironic since he knows how chemicals bond and how the unstable ones react to humans. He is a chemistry teacher and a good one at that. Learning his condition, a numbness covers him like an unwanted embrace from a stranger...

He started being detached, How could he spill the facts to his wife who's pregnant and to his son with cerebral palsy? How could he go along with the medical treatment with his measly income?

But isn't he good with chemicals? Why not turn this skill to his benefit? Why not find a former student who knows the drug trade and start cooking crystal?

BREAKING BAD is one of the best crime drama ever telecast. The genius of Vince Gilligan who created the series with the acclaimed acting of Byan Cranston and Aaron Paul as the main thespians of the series could transport the viewer to the desserts of New Mexico and how the methamphetamine (shabu in the local lingo) trade is being dealt.

The cinematography is done with all aesthetic qualities while the direction is raw. Of course, this is not recommended to the young ones since it's violent and could be catered to mature audiences alone. For how could one explain to a youngster why a mother would allow her son to witness their wasting out with the husband? (The wife later crushed the head of the husband with an ATM machine!)

It's really an interesting work of fiction. Critics gave lots of accolade to the episodes and after the final airing on the 5th season, ratings raised to an all-time high.

How I wish that our TV networks would also venture on such productions. But then we know that it won't sell and the madlang people will raise their eyebrows in protest. For even the flicks of Brillante Mendoza “Chevalier dans l’Ordre des Arts et Lettres” (Knight of the Order of Arts and Letters) seem taboo in his own backyard.

Thanks to the technology of downloading we could now view the missed episodes... then we could do the so-called marathons.

Here's a salute to the ensemble which makes the series flawless. I could invite a friend and allow him not to blink as a thug turns the face of his companion into a bloody mess with his bare fists.

Vanished

                                                              ( www.dailysatr.co.uk)

And that's it? After the harrowing moments of waiting if they're safe or not, someone would call a press conference and tell the families that Malaysian Airlines Flight 370  ended its flight at the Indian Ocean! There were wails of denial and anger. For how could one's love one just vanish in thin air? Meaning, they could not see their father/mother/sister/brother/husband/wife for the rest of their lives because of an unexplained reason?

Putting on the shoes of the family members who cling for hope, one could not imagine the mixture of emotions to whirl inside the mind and the heart of that person. A major glitch from the routine of life could do a lot of damage to the human psyche...

But what really happened? As the continuing saga of the plane's search, I really got into a lot of thinking and speculations. I remembered being glued to the TV screen as I did a marathon on that hit series LOST. For one summer I got so interested on the plight of the passengers of the fictitious Ocenia plane which crashed on an island that could not be tracked by any electronic device. For hours, I flinched on top of my bed and got boggled with the twists and turns of the story.

There were also speculations of alien interventions. Again, I got so interested with the concept since up to now, the idea of extra-terrestrial presence is still an on-going discussion of the scientific groups. The episodes of the much-loved X-FILES then visited on my conscious mind as the theme by Mark Snow soundtrack my thoughts...

But the more the search for the missing plane continued, the more my heart went to the waiting families. What if one of the members of my family was one of the passengers? What would be my reaction when I hear an authority telling me that "the flight of that plane ended and there's no chance of life?"

Then, there are bloggers who continue to mislead the readers giving more confusion to the chaos created by the mishap. What motivates them? Giving false hope to the families and even making fun of the situation...

Life is short. We better see the brighter side and live more. 

Rest

He was trembling. The thin blanket was embraced by him as if it was life itself. His blood sugar dropped once more – hypoglycaemia. The teeth chattered as I cajoled him to eat more chocolate. He bit the chewy bar and continued to shiver.

When a cousin lifted him from the bed the other day, I saw how wasted his body was. The gray hair and the unkempt whiskers on his face seemed to add to his overall look – sick.

I tried to remember the times when he was young. I could reminisce how detached he was… especially with those times when he had some drinks. He would sit on the porch for hours and do nothing. Also, he had money those days.

Things got blurry when he decided to "follow his heart" with someone disliked by his peers and family…

But seeing him old and trembling, I said to myself: all those things are in the past. What is important is now. If I wallow in distress and bitterness, what would it give me? I have learned that if I do something for others, I’m actually doing it for myself. This is a passage of becoming human and functioning like one.

While my father continued to shake, I refilled his glass of soda. I had lots of things to do. But this was probably God’s message to me. You see, every time that I would be out of town, he would often be sent to the hospital. I needed to have more time with him now.

As he slept on the old bed, I could see that he seemed to be shrinking. He looked helpless. That was the time when I saw myself some years from now. I will be old like him.

And if I choose not to serve him, I might not have the chance to assure myself that I HAVE BECOME A BETTER PERSON.

My father passed away two days later... the same day when my mother succumbed to death twenty four years ago.