I have pretty much been floating for the past few days: the days really just fly by, and since I’ve once again loosened my rein on my studies, after some time it’s already night and I haven’t done anything of value in the day. I’ve also discovered a good Japanese band because of Ryan, so thanks to him for Fujifabric: I’ve spent a significant amount of time listening to all their released music and separating music I like from the music I am indifferent to. They’re a great band, especially with some of their songs. I doubt there will be any releases in the near future, however, as their lead vocalist and lyricist died of unknown causes about a year ago. I feel that I will return to anime-watching once I filter through all their songs: I want to know all their wonderful songs so I can construct a playlist that I can to again and again.

I found this to be hilarious.

I’m not really disinterested in anime, I really just haven’t watched anything lately, and even I don’t know why. I guess it’s because of the time I spend playing DotA, a game that has once again become very interesting to me. I did watch two movies in the past few days, one being Shallow Grave, and another one recently released, which is The Expendables. Because this is an anime blog, however, I think it’s apt to include Shiki in my explication of Shallow Grave.

One of the things I feel turn people away from Shiki are its characters. There’s no one particularly endearing, and as of episode three, most of them are obnoxious. The pink-haired girl was a disgusting stalker; Natsuno, on the other hand, is nothing short of a prick, and the character introduced on episode three is someone both creepy and bitter (and ugly, too). Shiki excels in creating a scary atmosphere, primarily because the people that populate the rural town are disturbing existences.

I think the series is similar to Shallow Grave: it’s a good film, but it’s also a film I will not watch again if I could. The central characters were perverse and depraved despite purportedly being educated people. The film is a wonderful snapshot of the nether parts of humanity, the darkness within every single one of us. It works well as a thriller, but it’s just difficult to empathize with selfish bastards who care for nothing but money. It was indeed ingenious and well-directed (Danny Boyle of Slumdog Millionaire, after all, helmed the film), but it was a depressing film: redemption with the central characters was as impossible as Batman killing people. It was a simple film, but its suggestions were frankly something I don’t want to entertain as they were so bleak.

In contrast to the depth of Shallow Grave, there is The Expendables. As an action film, it was good, but as anything else it was pretty bad. There was so much that could have been done with the all-star cast that was not executed properly. It was a great time-waster for what it was worth, and I think that was all Stallone really wanted, anyway. I think that he’s the master of wasted potential after all. It was an enjoyable ride, but it was nothing more.

I don’t recall doing anything more than that. Current series don’t really invite me to watch them, although I’m trying to keep up with High School of the Dead (which is also quite similar to The Expendables).

Last year, when I found out that Christopher Nolan was filming a movie that dealt with dreams and the architecture of the mind, I knew I was going to see it on cinema early in its release. It’s the kind of expectant waiting that I had with Tatami Galaxy: I had faith that it was going to be something good based on the track records of its auteur. Just as I was impressed with Kemonozume and Kaiba (to a lesser extent), I was also impressed with Memento, The Prestige, and The Dark Knight. My faith all the more solidified when I knew it was going to be performed by a stellar cast: what else do you expect from a group of Oscar winners and nominees? Even Tom Brady was excellent in his portrayal as Bronson, and Joseph Gordon-Levitt in both his independent and blockbuster films was consistently great (I loved [500] Days of Summer).

Genius.

Even when I was still a child I had always been admiring of pens in all shapes and sizes. I sometimes admired some pens so much, I stole some of them when I was still very young. While I no longer steal pens at this age (I’d like to think I’m a wee bit more mature), I still have the same admiration and quasi-obsession for these objects. I bought three pens at two American dollars primarily because they were aged and comparatively antique (two were probably at least ten years old). As expected, the ink dried out within a week, and I had wasted two dollars on white elephants. They barely even wrote. (more…)

As I’ve said in my previous posts, I have been busy chasing and dealing with the requirements of medical school. That doesn’t mean I have done absolutely nothing as regards anime: on the contrary, I have observed and watched a significant number of movies and series (both anime and live-action).

This is an OK film.

The Sound and the Fury, written by William Faulkner, is universally acclaimed to be one of the best novels ever written by an American. It’s also recognized to be one of the best books of the twentieth century. Its intricate construction and its well-written streams of consciousness underlie a tragedy so total and so complete because the Compson members are unable and unwilling to love one another. From the man-child Benjy, to the selfish Jason, the family is torn from within because they remain inflexible in the face of cataclysmic change. Each of the featured characters end up tragic in their own unique way; it is arguable, however, that the least sympathetic tragedy among them was Jason’s. His tragedy, compared to Quentin’s and Benjy’s isn’t a moral tragedy: the novel itself suggests that Jason is extremely amoral and immoral, that he cannot love beyond a miserly notion for money. His tragedy was the most physical as compared to the torturous mental disintegration of Quentin and Benjy’s permanent entrapment into the mind of a retard. His was a tragedy he himself could rectify. Ultimately, his tragedy was that of an utter resistance to empathy and positive change.

This was the original film poster.