Revisiting Inception and random twitter rants

I spent the day on back-to-school errands. My baby wouldn’t come with me [she prefers to sit home watching cartoons and stuff], so I rushed to town armed with colour preferences and her shoe size. Several hours later, I had sore arms, mad feet, and girly purple sundresses.

Don’t ask.

I needed to unwind, so after losing the battle craving for cold milk, I decided to re-watch Inception. I watched it a while back and didn’t think that much of it, but I figured a clearer copy would help. It didn’t.

I did watch the first 15 minutes – the ones that were missing from my CAM copy. Turns out it was closer to 5, so I hadn’t really missed much. I had a clearer understanding of the mad maths, I maintain that the Indian dude is hot, and the gravity fight scenes were still awesome. I liked the warm, fuzzy portions at the end – they made me smile. And I love the music score. Other than that, I’m indifferent to the movie. It didn’t mess with my mind or make me question reality. To me, the whole thing was just plain silly.

I noticed one thing that I missed the first time. I noticed that the top keeps spinning in the end. I know that’s supposed to boggle my mind and make me wonder if he was really dreaming. It’s supposed to give credence to the thread on the DR post.

But I just found it annoying. I mean, the top was clearly wobbling, and if the cameraman hadn’t cut the shot and gone off to get coffee, it would have tipped over. So it didn’t make me ask if it was all a dream. Instead, it made me think of those annoying horror films where the last scene always leaves you humming ‘dun dun dun duuuuuuuun’ *dramatic cut scene and convenient excuse for a sequel*

You know, like when the hero is kissing the lady he just rescued, and in the background, a zombie hand shoots out of the grave … just before the credits roll? Like that.

Moving on.

I like to link tweets to blogs. It’s fun. It leaves a paper trail of sorts, like a cyber jigsaw, and I like jigsaws. So when New Twitter started hiding time stamps, I got a little annoyed.

Actually, I got a lot annoyed.

I always liked New Twitter. It has some really awesome features, and it’s pretty too. I hate that it doesn’t show where you’re tweeting from. Web vs Gravity is a sneaky way of finding out where somebody is sitting. But the feature that says *3 minutes ago* or *1 hour ago* is what helps you pin down a tweet. You click on that section and the individual tweet fills the screen. That way, you can link to it specifically, rather than zoning an entire timeline.

Meh. Sometimes I wonder if I make sense to anyone but me. Or maybe I just need milk.

Forty carats

I suppose I’ve always been a cougar. I remember having crushes on my little brother’s classmates, and that was years ago. In all fairness, the classmate in question was 5 feet tall, half German, and had  a name like a movie star. He was 7, and I was … not.

I told a good friend about my … fetish … and she suggested I was looking for someone to mother. Strange, because I already have a baby, and I’m not very motherly. I’m sure there’s some freudian theory involved, but I don’t think about it too much. Between the purple hair, the pierced nose, the perpetual jeans, and the backpack, I can pass for a college kid, so the age of my dates is not a big deal.

This does backfire, however, when I have to go for parent’s day.

Anyway, a few nights ago, I was preparing for a birthday party, and after spending the whole day cooking and cleaning, I had a chronic backache and a bad case of the dizzies. I settled on the sofa to eat and bumped into a TCM movie. I was looking for the title, but I missed the beginning, and all I could remember were the characters. Yay Google!

The name of the movie is 40 Carats. It’s about a forty year old girl liking a 22 year old boy, and it was made in 1973. I liked the movie because it was sentimental and sweet, and because it dealt with a lot of my issues. Plus, it had a happy ending.

A lot of things stood out for me. Anne, the leading lady, has an interesting relationship with her ex. They’re like best friends – well – sort of. He constantly asks her for money, which she gives him. That part is kind of weird. He hardly knows their 17 year old daughter, is adored by his ex mum-in-law, and he flirts constantly, with everyone. But the subject is handled with humour, so you laugh about it instead of cursing him out.

They’re comfortable enough to talk about their dates, and he comes by her house and rubs her feet. He even encourages her to marry, even though he clearly still has feelings for her. He wants her to be happy. But again, the movie has light, workable scenes. None of that Bold & Beautiful drama that would make it all sappy.

I was looking at Billy and Anne, in that scene where they’re on the sofa, and her legs are on his knees, and they’re talking about her date with JD. I kept wondering if I’d be quite as cosy with an ex. I only have one ex that I consider a friend … and we cordially talk about my current … but I don’t think I’d let him into my bedroom. That would be, you know, weird. Still, the fact that I finally have an ex who’s a friend does mean I’m growing up, no?

As I watched scenes between Anne and Billy, I noticed that they were pals. They were comfortable together. I wondered why they split up in the first place. Maybe years from now, when I’m forty, I’ll be just as close with this ex, and maybe we’ll wonder why we broke up as well.

Sometimes, when we talk, I wonder if he misses me, or if he wishes we hadn’t broken up. As for me, I don’t wonder. I know exactly what went wrong, and I’m glad, because I’m in a happier place now. I’m seeing someone who makes me happy, and I’ve never been this comfortable with anyone. He’s immensely easy to be with, and it feels pretty awesome.

I’m glad that the ex and I are friends though. Maybe one day, when I’m all grown up, I’ll be friends with all my exes. It makes life a lot easier.

In the movie, there’s a scene where Peter [the 22 year old] takes Anne [the 40 year old] to a party with his friends. It’s a swing-ish party, lots of nubile, half-clad women, and they’re largely all over the boy. One even tells Anne ‘You’re getting the best here. He’s like WOW!’ I admit it, I squirmed on her behalf. If some goddess half my age walked up to me and complimented my date’s bedroom skills … well, let’s just say extreme scariness would ensue. Logic suggests that the guy is with you, not the complimenter, but really, when you’ve got Halle Berry standing in front of you praising your man’s … assets … logic isn’t really what comes to mind.

In other news, there’s a DSTV offer where you can get a 6 month subscription plus installation for Ksh 10,000. I’ve always wanted to have TCM on demand, so I was looking through the packages.  The cheaper ones don’t have any good channels, and if I want the History Channel, I have to buy the full 6K package. Oh well. I guess I’ll just have to stick with after hours. It was a fun idea while it lasted.

Grenade Bruno Mars

The Boondock Saints

Screenplay: Troy Duffy

Director: Troy Duffy

Producer: Brood Syndicate

Music: Jeff Danna

DOP: Adam Kane

Editor: Bill DeRonde

First Ass. Director: John Rainey

Starring: Will Defoe, Sean Patrick Flannery, Norman Reedus, David Della Rocco [and a white guy named Bob Marley]

Franchise films, 1999

I’m sure you’ve heard of Boondocks, the animated series that, well, spoofs a lot of stuff. I’m yet to watch it, but I hear the controversy is something to write home about. Quite worth a blog post too.

[The word boondocks apparently refers to a remote area that is considered unsophisticated. I’m thinking it’s the contextual opposite of the suburbs. It’s a negative term, and residents are sometimes called boonies – so says the Oxford dictionary and wiki.]

But this is a little different. It’s a film that was commended by the pretty boy that I adore – and I almost always watch what he tells me to. Mostly, his taste is spot on, except of course when he recommends horrors, which he loves. I agree to watch those too – for completely different reasons. **cheeky grin**

The Boondock Saints is an Irish movie. Well, sort of. It stars Irish brothers, with delicious [if not completely consistent] accents. And they are both just yummy, pure eye candy. They fight pretty well too, and sport that a-NNO-ying  jeans-and-a-blazer; they actually make it look good.

The movie starts out in a church, and is a bit hard to follow for the first ten minutes or so. But then it packs message, soul and humour in a way I found completely irresistable.  See, the brothers are vigilantes, and their … job … is taking out bad guys. That’s when they’re not working at the meat factory.

After their first … assignment, a strange gay FBI agent is brought in to capture them. He’s  suave, talented [as a cop] and quite amusing in the eccentric way. He has to be seen to be believed.

This is an artsy movie – what some people would call a film rather than a flick. The music score is haunting, and the philosophy behind it is deep, if not somewhat disturbing. It’s got enough blood and gore to tickle the boys, and the pretty Irish brothers will keep the girls glued. Especially since they take off their shirts a lot; the boys, not the glued girls.

The packaging is great too, especially when the shots jump between past, present and future. And the gay detective is really, really funny.

It’s got a few clichés like Russian gangsters, the feminist butcher girl and a trigger-happy snitch sidekick. But I felt these worked for great comic effect. I liked the ‘family value’ angle, the bond between the brothers; the kind of bond that could easily make a girlfriend jealous.

Speaking of which, there are no girls in this movie, in the sense that there’s no Megan-Fox-type role.  There’s a girl with a cat, and a hooker, and possibly some female cops and waitresses, but they’re mostly furniture girls.

[There’s an old TCM movie called Soylent Green about a futuristic New York, where when you rent an apartment, it comes with electronics and a ‘furniture girl’ who … ‘fulfills your requirements’. Also, soap is a luxury and the government provides some food rations made out of … well, it’s creepy.]

When I got The Boondock Saints, a guy at the library advised against it, saying it wasn’t very good. But I enjoyed the story and the art in it; the beautiful way it was crafted and put together. It was fun drooling at the pretty brothers, and I was giggling the entire time at the script’s subtle humour. It’s definitely a movie I’ll be watching again and again and again, so I’m glad I got a good copy. According to wiki, a sequel was released last year. the plot doesn’t look promising, but I’m sure I’ll check it out.

Verdict: ♫♫♫♫♫

[♫ = useless; ♫♫♫ = passable; ♫♫♫♫♫ = brilliant!]