You hear that, Mr Andersen?

Headache, Hey Ya, Libraries

I have now learned my lesson -- as the saying goes, no good deed goes unpunished, and I've certainly felt the effects of the punishment for most of today. Admittedly, I'm not sure how often the good deed is likely to be, "Help, we've got a whole lot of money left on the bar tab, because our families didn't drink enough!" But I think it's safest to wildly extrapolate, and refuse to help anyone out ever again, in case it results in a headache, dizziness, and a couple of hours wondering where you thought would be a good place to hide your glasses. (Answer: in your jacket pocket.)

The after-effects notwithstanding, it was very nice to see L&J celebrating their engagement (and be suitably impressed by Zephfi's footware), and to hang out with that crowd. And I managed to inflict my favorite joke on some poor unsuspecting bystanders -- in fact, Jenni captured that beautiful moment on camera, so if you're very lucky I'll be able to show you exactly what people whose souls have been crushed look like.

(They wouldn't let me tell a second joke, and in fact left the party soon afterwards.)

I can see that you're wondering what my favorite joke could be. (Unless I've inflicted it on you already, in which case the grimace of pain you're making right now is all the thanks I need, heh heh heh.) In fact, I lifted it straight from this Dinosaur Comics comic, except this is to my version, in all modesty, as "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" is to Mozart's K. 300e; except no-one wants to hit anyone once they get to the end of the Mozart piece.

A few other cool things that Dinosaur Comics has done for me recently is link to an acoustic guitar version of Hey Ya, and an artist who makes things like a tv down-rez attachment and real world copies of in-game artefacts (at the bottom of the page). For example, to the right we see the Sims green diamond in real life.

* * *

I've sort of been missing the whole "formal learning" thing (C's current pain notwithstanding), and had vaguely thought about doing some extramural papers; perhaps something in the field of media studies or linguistics? Then I think about the amazing lack of spare time that I have... of course, if I had deadlines and goals, I might be amazed by the amount of time I can free up. I also might be amazed at how little I got to see my family and friends. So ambivalence seems to be the keyword of the day.

It would be a laugh to do the paper on The Lord of the Rings that Massey offers, though. :)

* * *

Speaking of C's current paper, I got to read an article on a series of hui held around the country about libraries, and how to make them more welcoming to Maori. One of the things that I was struck by was how important they seemed to feel positive politeness was; there were a number of comments about how they wished they could be greeted at the door by a Maori face, or at least in Maori, and how whakama many of them felt when they came into the library, and weren't sure what to do next.

(I think I've talked about positive and negative politeness before, but just in case -- I first came across this idea in the excellent Watching the English, where the author contrasted the negative politeness culture of England (where you don't bother people, you don't pry, and talking too much about yourself is to be avoided) with the positive politeness culture of the US (where you ask people if they're okay, tell people to have a great day, and share personal details to bond with relative strangers). Library culture is very much bound up in negative politeness -- no talking, no running, nothing that potentially impacts on others' use of the library.)

Thinking back to the first time I went to the university library, I can certainly see what they're driving at; if you were ambivalent about going into the building in the first place, and were sensitive about looking like you were a dumb stereotype having to ask the smart white person how to find things, it would certainly seem easier to leave. And some of the points that they made about how there is a definite message sent when the Maori section is tucked away in a dusty corner of the library, and that materials are often categorised in a way that doesn't correspond to their view of the world.

I was looking for information on Te Ata. So I plugged in Te Atairangikaahu, and it came up no information, and I thought, "Well that's strange. There's got to be information." So I went up to [xxxx] and said, "There's nothing in here," so she took me onto Index NZ, and she said, "Now you have to think like a Pakeha." I looked at her and thought what does she mean? She says put in Maori Queen and that's what we did and it came spewing out, heaps of information, but it wasn't the way I was thinking. Whatever Maori name I'm researching I want to put it in the computer and it will tell me where the book is found.

One of the ideas I toyed with, back when I was thinking about going higher academically, was doing research about computer-aided information retrieval for Maori-related topics, especially stories associated with particular groups and regions. (This was when I was thinking about applying for scholarship funding.) It never came to anything for me, but I'm sure there's some interesting stuff to be done in the area.

Anyway -- I'd not thought of Maori culture on those terms before, but I think that there is definitely a positive politeness thing going on. Which makes me wonder; what would the relationship between pakeha and Maori be like if the Americans had decided to invade, back when they were having disputes with Japan (and thus Britain)? Actually, it might be significantly worse for Maori, since the Americans would have no reason to honour the Treaty, nor motivation to craft anything similar.

Anyhoodles, I should get to bed; plenty to do at work tomorrow.

Firsts, Flash, Flashers

Several firsts recently -- last night, I managed (after much manly messing about with tools) to finally fix a tap that had graduated from "dripping" to "noisily dribbling". This involved me having to buy o-rings and adjustable spanners, and is probably the most complicated home handyperson job I've had to undertake by myself.

(I'm not really a hardware kind of guy.)

Another first is that it looks like I might get to be an uncle, courtesy of one of my married brothers! I look forward to becoming clucky. Okay, even more clucky than usual. :)

It's also the first time that I've managed to cut my thumb on a nectarine. It's more painful than it's ridiculousness makes it sound.

I wrote Jenni & C a long email detailing a possible roleplaying game set in the Kingdom of Chocolate. Jenni tried to encourage me to run it at Kapcon, but don't know that Kapcon is ready for the independent-minded Princess Sante, her maid Kit-Kat, brave Captain Picnic, her aging steward Visount Rough of Coconut, or the evil machinations of her Regent, the wicked Lord Caramello.

Maybe I'm wrong. :)

* * *

Mum has bought a copy of Macromedia's Flash creation tool; I've lent her some cool books of rights-free illustrations to play around with, but I want to get some playing-with-stuff time in myself. If I could have the opportunity to write something addictive like Dicewars, or play around with the "generate stuff based on existing data" like that dungeon-based-on-LiveJournal-interests&friends that was floating around: that would be awesome.

(I saw an article on Passively Multiplayer Online Games, and it seemed an interesting area to mine.)

Anyway, if I ever get around to doing something, I'll stick it up here.

* * *

On the "kinda cool" front -- one of the pieces of film still in existence, courtesy of YouTube; in which we learn, the temptation to bounce around like a loon in front of the camera existed even in 1888.

Oh, and there was the BBC article about Chinese authorities banning strippers from rural funerals. (When you have rules like, "The bigger the crowd, the greater the honour," innovations like free beer and strippers are inevitable, I guess.)

And there was an interesting article that someone pointed at about the five social fallacies that geeks (and geek groups) are specially prey to. I thought it was a set of observations that had a lot of resonance for me, so I share it with you. Unfortunately, the other articles in this site don't seem to have been preserved.

Public Art, Poo, Pointy

Okay, it's about time for a new entry. And because I'm back at work, there's lots to link to.

Let's start with crazy public art, like babies made out of packing tape, and parking meters turned into lollipops. (Lots more pictures through the link.) I think that the grown-up, homeless version of the "children's clothes made into creepy sulking dolls" is, if anything, more freaky.

I think I've linked to "Steve, Don't Eat It" before, but someone pointed to his prison wine experiments, and I thought... yes. Drinking something that has had a used sock in it is something that I could not do. Oh, and I see there's a subsequent one, where he eats silkworm pupae. Good lord.

Which ties in nicely with these creepy pictures of a caterpillar infestation. Yeah, I don't have much to say about it, other than I'm glad I've never had to deal with something like that in the morning. I like the rappelling-lines of caterpillars the best, I think -- so many caterpillars, they have to make themselves new surfaces to inhabit!

* * *

Some random movie news -- the director of Halo has been announced; someone who's done a bunch of advertising (that "dancing Citroen" ad), and some short films (like Live in Joburg, which I won't spoil beyond saying it's a six and a half-minute sci-fi film set in similar-to-present-day Johannesburg), but has no feature-film experience. However, he's got a strong effects background, and seems to be making all the right noises, so who knows -- this may be the first movie based on a game that doesn't cause you to want to gouge your eyes out with silkworm pupae.

(I mean, a movie based on a amusement park ride seems even less promising, and look at Pirates of the Carribean. The first one, I mean.)

Oh yeah, there was also Yellow, a four-minute sci-fi film sponsored by Adidas which was pretty cool, and there was also a short film called TempBot (which I'm afraid I haven't actually watched).

* * *

key bumping, or "why locking your front door is no longer as safe as it used to be". I can imagine that you might have a hard time selling this in fiction, so what a good thing it's actually fact, eh? Although actually... I remember Ocean's Eleven had a good line in "complete bollocks delivered with conviction", though that might have benefited from the fact that the actors didn't know it was actually bollocks. Well, they must have worked out that the EMP generator wouldn't work in the way depicted, but the government requirement for a bunch of cash of the premises seems plausible, even if it's wrong... I wonder how many psuedo-facts like that make it into fiction, because the person's primary source is the movie. For that matter, I wonder how many newspaper articles quote "movie facts" as the real deal... given the frequency that junk mentioned in Snopes et al, turns up in my inbox, it's probably worryingly high.

Imagine a "fact" made up by a script-writer to cover a plot-hole being absorbed by someone important, and having disastrous consequences... and now look at how easy that was to imagine. Presumably because lobby groups of various persuasions seem to be able to establish their version of "truth" all the time; imagine the stickiness of a "fact" that was narratively compelling. Well actually, you don't have to imagine it, since that's basically what many urban legends are.

Anyway, to get back on track with the uber-linking: here's a site that tags itself as Yesterday's tomorrows, today, with old articles on "How Nuclear Radiation Can Change Our Race" and pipe holsters; someone at work linked to them because they reproduced an article on on how to do gorilla prosthetics. Some really interesting stuff buried in there.

In other science stuff, and related to the Al Gore documentary, there's an interesting article on a previously unexamined carbon sink -- salps. Describing them as "the marine equivalent of inedible cows" is interesting, and it's kinda cool that they're basically important because they've got heavy poo. (The "fecal matter" is dropped more than 600 meters down, and sink about a km a day, so they're out of the reach of anything that might decay on the surface pretty quickly.) So... if a natural swarm can sink up to 4000 tonnes of carbon into deep water, I wonder how long it will be before you can make money by inducing artificial swarms, and then selling the carbon credits.

(I nearly wrote "carob credits" there, which would be a different thing entirely.)

* * *

Then there's the prosecution witness who was jailed for two months by accident, and couldn't find out why; it turns out the prosecutor forgot to say to the justice system, "Hey, we're giving up on this case, you don't need to hold this guy to force him to testify any more." And so he was stuck; he didn't have a lawyer provided for him, because he wasn't charged with anything. Just... bizarre.

Perhaps he'd like to use something like the Chinese "anger bar", where you get to hit the wait-staff (rather than hit on the wait-staff, which seems to be the norm). The bar has specially trained and equipped men who will dress up as people who are frustrating you in real life, and let you attack them. And they've got psychology students from local universities available for counselling, in case you've really got problems (beyond the need to pay someone to let you hit them); because after all, if my time at university taught me nothing else, it's that no-one is better suited to solve the problems of random aggressive drunks than opinionated undergraduate psychology students. Though it's interesting that he says that most of his customers are women working in the "service or entertainment industries", which may or may not be a euphemism.

(I assume people have seen the secret US plan to invade NZ; I don't think the fact that it was written around 1908, in case they got into a war with Japan and Great Britain sided with the Japanese (as they were allies, and had a treaty) should reduce our need to look suspiciously at any American accent. After all, if they thought about it once, they might do it at any time. Luckily, we can rely on the Indonesians to protect us from any American Imperialist Aggression...)

* * *

And to finish off -- here's a line of Star Trek de-motivational posters. Ah yes -- so pointy.

Movies: Day 16 & 17

I got to see the first three films of Saturday with C, yay! The first was Kirikou and the Wild Beasts a series of short tales set in between the events shown in the previous movie, Kirikou and the Sorceress. The version that we saw was in French, and C told me that they had very strong accents, and that they were the same accent as in the English version (which I would have picked as African), so that was pretty cool. (My French is pretty minimal, but it's possible to pick up some words when there are subtitles there to help you.) It wasn't quite as good as the first (possibly because it didn't have an overarching storyline), put it had some good moments -- like the fake fetish that the children make to fool the sorceress, or Kirikou's journey on a giraffe.

Then we had John & Jane, the documentary about call centers in India. It was sad in a whole different way to China Blue; they get given American names when they start working, and are trained in American accents and "American values". I think that the most chilling thing I saw was the woman talking about how she felt so good about her job, and how she felt she did it with love... as we saw her try to convince an 80 year-old who'd made one out-of-state call four years ago that he should sign up with the calling provider she was shilling for the low, low price of $18 a month. Or maybe it was the guy who seemed to be really enthused, and have clear goals... and turned out to sell Amway in his spare time. Or the Indian woman with blonde hair and eyebrows, tinted eyelashes, and what looked like chemically treated skin, who talked about marrying "another blond". There was a real sense that the call center workers were isolated from the rest of their community, and that some of them saw their co-workers as family, and their center as a "little piece of America". I guess it's better, in the sense they are very clearly choosing to do this to themselves, and there was no sense that they were being cheated like the workers in China were; this was definitely a white-collar job. But... to someone who's grown up somewhere where multiculturalism is important, this seemed more than a bit creepy.

And then, Friends with Money, which I think I found less sad than C. Or maybe more satisfying? Anyway, it's the story of four friends, one of whom is very well off, two of whom are upper middle class, and one who has given up being a primary school teacher and become a maid, cleaning rich people's houses. The partners were mostly just people for the women to react against, though the slightly effeminate man was developed slightly more; I liked how much I felt I could understand why each of the women reacted the way she did to the situation she found herself in. And the dick-ish boyfriend that the poorest woman hooks up with is pretty much as big a tosser as possible, and she eventually actually notices, so that was nice.

Then C cruised off to try to (unsuccessfully) meet up with her friend, who I'll call NYJ (for various reasons), and I went to L'Enfer, a French film about... well, about relationships, I guess. The story focuses on three sisters, only one of whom has kept in touch with their mother, and seems to lead a pretty lonely life. The second has children, but finds out her husband is cheating on her; the other is being dumped by a married man who she's been having an affair with. And they are all traumatized by their father, who was sent to jail for being involved with a young boy. It was a slightly harrowing film with lots of uncomfortable and scary moments, but it felt like all of the main characters were stronger, and maybe better people at the end. I enjoyed it.

I also bumped into Anne et al. for this movie; they said they would be interested to hear what I thought about Abduction, which I was going to see tomorrow. But I didn't get to see them after the movie, since I had to rush off and drive down to the Embassy to see The Road to Guantanamo. This looked at three men -- boys, really -- who were in Pakistan for the wedding of one of them, went to Afghanistan for a lark, more or less, and ended up in American hands in a military prison in Guantanamo Bay, in Cuba. Even a charitable interpretation would have to say that they weren't being very bright; but they had a fourth member of their party, who is missing and presumed dead. And given the torture they underwent because America basically went crazy with grief and were desperate to find someone to punish... well, it does seem a little disproportionate. There was a whole sequence where US officials try to claim that they can be seen in a video listening to Bin Laden; but at the time the video was taken, one of them was doing Community Service under the watchful eye of his local British bobby. And all this time, hardly anyone is charged with anything, and the handful that are charged are found not guilty. But it's okay, because it's important to protect Freedom, and American Ideals; and in the course of protecting the upper-case version of those things, the lower case versions sometimes have to fall by the wayside.

* * *

Then it was Sunday, and the last day of the Festival. I got away a little later than I was hoping, and ended up driving around looking for a park for a half-hour or more. This put me 20 minutes late for Abduction; I decided that it would be rude to disturb people who managed to make it on time. So I met up with C, who had managed to meet Nyj for lunch, and met Nyj for the first time (after hearing about her for more than a year). She seemed pleasant and smart, as C had described her; admittedly, I may have been biased by her willingness to go along with the "played by an actor" gag. (I've been known to tease C that any friend that I don't often meet is obviously made up, and that she hires actors to fill the roles as necessary in order to convince me they're real. In this case, we talked about the supposed details of Nyj's life that C had made up, such as her father being a rum-runner in the Caribbean.) We went to Strawberry Fair, and I polished off a creme brulee while C struggled through a chocolate and English toffee pudding, and Nyj had some sort of torte.

And then it was off to Memory for Max, Ida, Clare and Others, a documentary in an old people's home, looking at the experience of the residents and their family. As I may have said before, the idea of losing my memory is very scary to me, and it was tragic to watch one of the residents having to deal with a tragedy again and again, because she simply didn't remember being told it the day before, or the day before that...

I got the impression that many of the residents couldn't control their emotions as well as the used to, and that one of the greatest problems was filling the long, empty days, and dealing with the loneliness. But it wasn't a depressing film, or not entirely so; there was dancing and singing as well as parents who no longer recognised their (middle-aged) children. I think that one of the things it drove home was the importance of keeping an active mind, and continuing to do stuff; if you don't have the bad luck to get Alzheimer's or something similar, you're much more likely to be able to stay alert and happier.

Then I met C, and we zipped home so she could get changed for The Phantom of the Opera at the Opera House. This was the 1920s silent version, with an orchestra in the pit
and everything; apart from a slight technical glitch where they were projecting backward, it seemed to go really well. There were a lot of things that were a bit daft -- dancers apparently suffer from a disease that means they spontaneously pirouette when they're nervous, and you can protect yourself from strangulation by lariat by holding up your hand at least a foot away from your head at all times. But there were some genuinely gorgeous bits, like the Red Death costume that the Phantom wears, and some genuinely spooky bits. It was interesting how well it's held up, and Debbie and Sam (who were there as well) were struck by how much the costuming and set design of the most recent version had been influenced by this one. (Though the wigs were not as ridiculously bad, and the Phantom was, disappointingly, nowhere near as hideous.)

And then, the final film in the festival, The Science of Sleep. This followed the life of a young man from South America, lured back to France by his mother for a graphic design job that he thinks is a chance to do art, but ends up consisting of adding customer's logos to three basic types of calendars: nudes, landscapes or puppies. A woman moves in next door, and he initially falls for her friend, but later realises that he likes her. So far, so standard; but the main character has a vivid dream-world, with a TV show in a studio made of cardboard, and his female coworker trying to make out with him in a bathtub full of cellophane water. And this dream-logic sometimes seems to spill into the real world, and he'll sometimes act while he's dreaming. It's a little confusing, but a lot of fun; and there's a fair amount of humour that they get from the fact that the main character speaks Spanish natively, English very well, and French very poorly. I enjoyed it a lot.

* * *

And now... I'm back at work. The less said about that, the better. I'm about two weeks behind on everything internet-related, including blogs, so bear with me as I catch up.

Oh, and I went out to C's parents on Monday night, which meant I had the very exciting experience of getting a flat while driving on the motorway. I manged to make it to the house, but the tyre had folds in it. Luckily, both C's father and brother are very much car people (C's mother refers to Pick-a-Part as "the lolly shop"), so I had a lot of help changing the tire in the miserable cold. I popped out this lunchtime and replaced it, as well as paying my rates and getting my wheels aligned, so I'm feeling fairly virtuous right now.

We should be back to your regularly scheduled random websites and vague musings shortly.

Movies: Day 15

The first movie I went to see was The White Masai, about a Swiss woman who moves to a remote village in Africa for love. It was a good, solid story about someone who sometimes adapted, and sometimes failed to adapt; and by failing to conform to the norms of how a woman should react around men (no eye contact), she causes the tribesman to become insanely jealous. (There were also issues about her being more assertive than is acceptable, having her own money, and knowing how to do things (like run a business, and drive) that the man doesn't.)

It makes me wonder... given the kinds of reasons that men give in some cultures for restricting women's freedom, does that tell us something about how they feel it's okay to act against "unprotected" women, or at least normalize it make it more likely to take place? I mean, why assume every man you don't know wants to rape your sister (a la Offside? Why assume that every married woman will have a boyfriend if not watched closely? In China Blue, does the factory owner feel that his workers will rip him off if given half a chance because that's what he'd do? And what things and our culture do we do the same thing? (I think that the cases where one group imposes rules on another because of bad things they think their group might do seems particularly worrying.)

I, personally, am not a cultural (or moral) relativist. I think that some aspects of all cultures that I know about could be changed for the better (our attitude towards alcohol and binge drinking, for example), and that there are some cultures that have more wrong than others. I understand that sub-Saharan Africa is a grim, harsh and difficult situation to live, and there needed to be strong, strict rules with disproportionate punishment to help ensure the stability of the relatively small populations. But the situation is changing, and will continue to change; I hope the culture changes with it in a way that isn't too painful for all involved; but very few groups give up power easily.

Maybe when people start building factories in Africa, and women start having more opportunities to make money than men, this will start to bring about the type of change I'm thinking of; but I imagine it won't be a simple or painless process.

Then it was off to the Mac's Brewery bar, to say goodbye to Magic Tim, who is buggering off to Britain. It was nice to see some of the people from work again, and Tim seemed pretty pleased with the present we got him (a small poster, singed by I.T., and a bunch of cash).

I've now got a little wait until my next Te Papa movie.

* * *

Tale of Cinema was a little confusing initially, because I didn't realise that the first part was actually a film within a film. The second part focuses on a unsuccessful director, who feels the director who made the film we just saw (and is dying) stole the story from his life; the actress he meets (who plays the girlfriend in the first part) tells him not to be so paranoid, and later that he didn't really understand the film in the first place.

It was a little odd, and uneasy... and had surprisingly poor camera-work. I mean, there was an awful lot of "emotional moment!" zoom-in, and it was generally really intrusive. I guess it could have been a stylistic choice: in the first part, to emphasis the fact that it's the guy's first movie, and in the second to give stylistic continuity with the first; but I just found it annoying and distracting. Also, the strongest female role in the film is probably the actress, and she felt quite a lot like a foil for the main actor rather than anything else. All in all, it was alright, and I daresay you'd like it if you liked Turning Gate; but it wasn't everything I'd hoped.

* * *

12:08 East of Bucharest was a quiet little film about a local television station doing a program on the revolution in Romania (where the Communist dictator Ceausescu was overthrown), and whether their town participated in the revolution, or if they only celebrated after his fall. There was a fair amount of small town (and small television station) humour, but I thought the most interesting thing was the contrast between the two interviewees. The first was a school-teacher, who we established was a drunk who tended to owe everyone money by the time payday rolled around -- he tried to say that he and three other teacher friends were attempting to storm the Party buildings and getting beaten up by the secret service long before the transmission occurred, but there were plenty of people prepared to call in and say he was lying. The other, an elderly chap who seemed best known around the town as playing Santa Claus to most of the kids, told a simple story about trying to make up to his wife for a fight they had, and turning on the TV as part of that, and being a little disappointed that the bribe offered by Ceausescu just before he fell wouldn't be forthcoming; this seemed a much more interesting, moving and real story than the school-teacher's heroics.

(I also bumped into Anne et hubby before and after -- since he hasn't left comments with his real name, it seems polite not to give it here, since I haven't asked -- and had a nice chat, and then bumped into Grant's girlfriend afterwards (who, again, is a person in her own right, but I don't know how much of an internet presence she wants).)

The last film I saw was Pulse, a Korean horror film in the style of Ring and Dark Water. I don't think it was quite as effective as either of those, though it might have more impact if I came from a culture with the idea of "hungry ghosts" and the like. There were definitely scenes where I felt my hair rise, but they weren't as well sustained as the other two examples I mentioned. Also, some of the talk about the projects that the computer science students were doing seemed a bit random, though I'd be ready to believe that this might have been because of translation issues.

Better go, since I've got three movies with C...

Movies: Day 14

So it looks like I'll be going to both The Host and Bubble, since it turns out that The Host is on at 10:45pm, not 10:45am. I'm sitting in the Paramount havinga quick cup of tea, and debating whether to go home and get the car to go to the Penthouse for The Heart of the Game, or to use my Daytripper and take my chances with Wellington's public transport system. I think that I'll definitely want the car after The Host, since it'll be after my last bus, and I don't really want to shell out $15 for taxi.

* * *

Just got out of Bubble, and I've walked to JJ Murphy's for lunch -- pepper steak and a cider. :) First, the Bergman theater: if the seats in the main Paramount were as nice as these, I'd be a happy man. Definitely on a par with the non-leather Embassy seats, and maybe better than the ones in the nose-bleed section; and the whole exposed-brick-and-pipes vibe is kinda cool. A smaller theater, but almost all the seats seem pretty good.

The movie itself... hmm. As a story, pretty unremarkable -- a new girl who threatens the status quo in a doll factory, and has light fingers when it comes to other people's money, ends up dead. Perhaps the more interesting thing was the colour, rather than the plot: the actors looked like real people, they ate out of vending machines and fast-food chain wrappers, and all of them were holding down two or three jobs to make ends meet. One of the characters was amazed by a house that seemed to me to be a only slightly upmarket three-bedroom two-story place...

Dammit. Are Vodaphone SMS-spamming a lot more than they used to? I think that I've got a lot more anxiety about phone stuff at the moment, because I know that work will only call if something is terribly, horribly wrong; so it's a bit of a shock whenever it goes off. Which means additional spam through that channel is definitely Not Appreciated. :(

Anyway, it was interesting to compare and contrast these lives with those shown in China Blue; not as regimented, but definite elementsvof the "quiet desperation" thing. And there was also echoes of Maxed Out there -- I could easily see the characters, any of the characters, making a foolish, impulsive purchase that ended them up in debt. I think there were interesting things going on with the whole car equals power thing: the person who had a car was constantly asked for favours, and when the male lead was asked what he currently wanted, it was to get a car... and this was on a date where he'd borrowed a friend's car to take the girl out. The new girl was still letting her artist ex-boyfriend drive her car around, and he waited in the car for her to come home. All in all, a good film, but not one I feel a need to see again.

* * *

Five Days was a documentary covering the forced evacuation of the Jewish settlers in Gaza strip. Lots of calling the police and soldiers, "Nazis," telling them they were committing a sin, that they would be judged, and that not following orders was not a defence. One of the soldiers, very perceptively, said that it was a lot easier when they were called Nazis; it's much easier to defend and distance yourself from hate, rather than guilt. I thought that the most interesting moment, however, came right at the end. The documentarian and the general in charge of the operation were talking about how it was bloodless, quick and compromises had been reached; the documentary-maker asked why this couldn't happen in other conflicts. The general said he had an opinion, but he'd only speak off the record. "You want me to turn the camera off?" "Yes, turn it off." "Are you sure?" "Yes."

And then the documentary ended.

Back home briefly to pick up the car, and then it's off to see The Heart of the Game in Brooklyn.

* * *

Sitting in Paramount, waiting to go into 13. After lamenting my tragic lack of Anne et al. yesterday, guess who I found waiting for dinner in the Penthouse? So I got to have a quick chat with Morgue's parents and grandmother, and compare notes about some of the films we've both seen; apparently, they spotted me at one of the early Soundings screenings, but are both very busy with other things, so they haven't managed to see as many as previous years. Anne mentioned that she had been looking at my reviews, so I was eager to find out just how off-base I was.

The Heart of the Game was very good indeed; in fact, if I had any complaint, it would be that it seemed too scripted. I mean, an underdog team that sweeps to near victory in the first act, has troubles piled on in the second act, one of the key players put into an apparently impossible position, and in the big final game that ends up being a grudge match between the two teams we've been focusing on at the end of the third act, the coach starts sending in the freshmen members of the team, who've only spent a few games, or even minutes, on the court... I mean, you'd forgive it, but the narrative bones would be obvious. But it wasn't fiction, and it was all the more exciting because everything might simply tumble down. It would have been really interesting to talk to the documentary maker, and see what he thought he was making at the beginning of the seven years it took to make the film; whether he was prepared to make the movie about the rival team (the Bulldogs) instead of the Rough Riders, for example. And it would be interesting to hear what had happened to the girls featured in the film since it was made.

(Edit having talked to Morgue, who's read a bit about the film, they were apparently aiming to make a documentary about the coach, and the film just growed. Crazy.)

As a film, I liked it. I think it was very much of the Spellbound/Red Hot Ballroom genre; in general, I prefer the information-heavy docos like China Blue, but I have space in my heart for this kind of character-driven piece as well. :)

Whoops, time to go in...

* * *

I'm writing this the next morning, because I didn't get home until 1am. 13 (Tzameti) was a French film about a roofer working for a junkie who dies, and decides to follow instructions mailed to the junkie because they were meant to be a way to earn big money. This leads him into a macabre gambling ring, where rich men sponsor desperate ones to play extended games of competitive Russian roulette. Fairly chilling; the film was well made, and I liked it.

I then scooted at speed over to the Embassy to see The Host, which was a strange mix of slapstick, horror and monster movie. The US military is ultimately to blame for the creation of the monster, and also acts as the main reason that things go from bad to worse (hunting down the protagonists because they might be infected with some "virus", and releasing "Agent Yellow" to kill the beast, which seemed to down quite a few protesters as well. There were definitely elements of a Godzilla movie there (monster created/summoned by industrial pollution, the army unable to stop it), but Godzilla never vomited up the bones of the people he'd been digesting in front of the little girl who was surviving by hiding in his larder. It was a really fun film to watch, and some bits actually got applause from the audience (which seemed equal parts horror/monster buffs and Korean), and Morgue said afterwards that he was happy that I dragged him out to see it.

Oh, and the sister in the film is the Korean girl in Linda Linda Linda, and was in the Korean version of Ring. Good stuff.

Movies: Day 13

So, it's early in the evening, and I'm sitting on the Embassy's comfortable couches, having just gone to Cha for a nice Chinese meal after watching China Blue. But I suppose I should begin at the beginning...

Because I was starting relatively late today, I decided to get a relatively early night, and answer my email in the morning. Unfortunately, that meant that instead of working through my email, and being done, people were able to respond to what I'd written while I was dealing with other things, and I didn't get away from the computer until near midday.

One nice thing was that I did find out about someone's going-away lunch on Friday. It'll mean having to miss Lonesome Jim (and I was really looking forward to seeing Liv Tyler stretch her acting chops and portray someone a bit dim), but I thought I'd missed it entirely. The person organizing it asked me for suggestions about what we could get him; because he's off to work in London for a few years, the more transportable the better. I suggested a number of options that I thought would be a little different, like buying him soccer tickets for a game a few weekends after he arrives, or membership in whatever the NZ Historical Society is called (because they have reciprocal arrangements with their British counterparts, so he could get concessions getting into things like Stonehenge and castles and stuff). I'd ask for other suggestions, but I probably won't see them in time.

Speaking of not seeing, I've been very disappointed not to bump into Anne this year. It hardly feels like a real Film Festival in her absence... I guess the fact that it doesn't coincide with the school holidays makes it a lot harder. I guess I've still got a few days grace, but I don't think my odds are good.

(I did, however, bump into someone I'd met at a previous festival yesterday. I didn't actually recognize, or even remember them; but I must have made a good impression, since they were quite happy to chat.)

* * *

Anway, on to the films. I'm being pretty slack today, and only seeing three -- How Much Do You Love Me, China Blue and Police. The first was a French movie with a number of big-name European actors, about a man who goes into a brothel/bar and tells one of the hookers that he's just won over four million Euros, and would she come and live with him for ten thousand a month, until his money runs out. This is film is a lot less pleasant and frothy than The Valet, but there's a lot more naked Monica Bellucci. I enjoyed it, although there seemed to be problems with either the projection or the grading (there were a few radical light-level changes), and I found it hard to tell at the end of the movie which bits were happening in people's heads, and which were "real". Some nice twists, too.

Oh, and it was preceded by the 1961 ad for the Philips Miss New Zealand (and Mr New Zealand) competition. Very weird... the guy got to have a voice-over about how awesome he was, but the woman just got to sniff an aerosol. This was shown courtesy of the Film Archive.

I then headed over to the Paramount, where I saw Jenni and had a nice, random chat. We were surprised by China Blue having a near full house -- the previous film, The Heart of the Game (heartwarming coaching of schoolgirl basketball team), had only ten or so people turn up. It was a weirdly revealing film, with both the factor owner and the workers being very open about their feelings and thoughts; however, the filmmaker later said that the owner said even more interesting and revealing things off camera, that he wouldn't repeat when being recorded. This was apparently a difficult film to make, as the Chinese authorities have made it illegal to cooperate with foreign media unless they have a permit (and minders, and censorship). The owner (a former police chief) had to be misled by the filmmaker; he was told that this would be a film about the new generation of entrepreneurs who are energizing China's economy, and that the footage about the workers was simply to provide some context about the opportunities he was providing. The maker also had one of his main subjects scared into stopping, and had tapes confiscated and crew arrested.

I asked about how he gained the trust of the girls, since he's an older European man. (I didn't actually add the "older" part.) He agreed that it was difficult, as in some of the villages he visited he was the only live European that they'd ever seen; but he simply hung around filming, and eventually their youth, the pressure of the situation, and the sleep deprivation combined to break down their inhibitions about talking to him. He also discussed whether the factory owner had seen the film (he hadn't, but he'd been annoyed about reviews that badmouthed his factory; the filmmaker actually got the paper in question to print a retraction, since one of the points he wanted to make was that the conditions were actually quite good by Chinese standards -- only 12 girls a bunkroom instead of twenty, and a toilet per bunkroom instead of five communal stalls for the whole floor. And the problem isn't really the factory owners; given the fact that the multinationals can take their money anywhere, both in and out of China, the owners would be in serious financial difficulty if they obeyed the law, and actually paid minimum wage and observed the overtime restrictions. Are unfair working conditions better than no work at all?

One of the things that the maker said he'd heard mooted was the idea that cheap-labour rich countries might combine into a cartel similar to OPEC, and do some price-setting; I'm not sure whether that would work, but they certainly need to think about getting some sort of leverage, since otherwise the whole "race to the bottom" is unlikely to end well. He also encouraged us to ask for non-sweatshop products, pressure chains to do the same, and buy locally.

(It's a pity you had to miss the Q&A, Jenni; it was really quite interesting.)

Now, I'm going to relax before my last movie of the day, Police. I've got half a brownie to finish, so I'd best apply myself. :)

* * *

Well, I was sitting in the Embassy; I'd finished my brownie, and was playing Tradwinds on my Palm while I was waiting. The bell went, I got up and lined up with the rest of the crowd... and when I got to the front, was told that I should be at Te Papa.

One rather rapid stroll later, I was at the near-deserted screening of Police. It was interesting to see Gerard Depardieu as a young man basically foreshadowing his role in 36 Quai des Orfevres in a slightly less cynical and hardbitten way. A pretty standard French police noir, with Arab Muslims (Tunisians) as villains before Arabic villains were "cool".

I scheduled myself to see Bubble tomorrow morning, but I think I'll go to The Host instead; it does mean getting in earlier, and I don't get to see a film at the Paramount Bergman theater, but I feel more like cheesy horror than a small-town drama. I might see if Celeste can get off work early to see The Heart of the Game up at the Penthouse, as well.

Hopefully I'll keep this up, and write some more tomorrow.

Movies: Day 12

To make a change, I actually have a bit of a gap between films this time, so I'm taking advantage of that to try to make sure that I don't fall behind too far again.

A short that I forgot to mention last time was Dead Letters, a nice solid NZ short set in WWII about two people in a mail office involved with sending letters to the troops. (Apparently there were special forms that people could write on to send messages to their loved ones cheaply; they'd be photographed, shrunk onto rolls of film that would be flown out to the appropriate war theater, transferred back to paper there and passed on to the appropriate soldier.) It was a well-made short, and I think they had a website... www.deadlettersmovie.co.nz?

* * *

Just saw Maxed Out, a documentary about credit-card debt, and the debt-driven society that the US has become. Lots of interesting interviews, including a very personable pawn-shop owner who was talking about how credit-card and fast-cash companies were eating up their traditional business, as well some other interesting stuff; for example, how he hears blue collar workers complaining about how their taxes have to pay for the health care and education of people that they don't seem to realize is them. Lots of scary stuff about banks deliberately targeting university students and bankrupts -- the later because they're a group that have proved they've got a taste for living beyond their means, and can't get away by declaring bankruptcy again. The US has got a similar skyrocketing housing price issue, though I don't think we're quite as screwed as them on the whole national debt front. (We saw the construction of the new national debt sign; they've had to add another digit.) There was also plenty of interviews with people like the debt collectors and the debt speculators, as well as the parents of students who'd killed themselves because of debt, and the National Guardsman whose family had to declare bankruptcy because he was deployed in Iraq for over twenty months, rather than the usual six.

It makes me very grateful that I am in a position to be able to pay off my credit card; and deepens my dislike for my mortgage. :) It also makes me wonder what will happen to the world when the house of cards that is the US economy falls over... to focus very selfishly, while I think people will need escapist movies more than ever, I'm not sure that the big budget features that Weta is involved with will be in the same demand. (Or perhaps they will; the big Busby Berkley productions were happening during the depression...) It's certainly going to be an interesting next fifty years; let's hope that those in power don't screw it up too badly for the rest of us.

Next movie: Mary.

* * *

Okay, if all the movies I was seeing were as intense as Mary and Beyond Hatred, I don't think I'd be able to do five movies in a day.

Mary was about... faith, I guess. A film-maker creates a controversial film about Christ's life, influenced heavily by the testaments of Thomas and Mary Magdalene, though he seems more concerned with being allowed to say whatever he likes than what he's actually saying; the actress playing Mary Magdalene has a religious revelation and goes to Jerusalem; a tv host for a program on "The Real Jesus" has a crisis of faith because of his wife, and the child he's about to have. I was a bit skeptical at first, but this movie won me over.

Then it was off to the Film Archive for Digital Space. Some pretty stuff, but mostly on the music-video level; a number of things that were impressive, but not particularly moving. I think that the "virtual rollercoaster" might be the digital equivalent of what I've been referring to as "screensavers" in the general animation collections, though there were a few of those in the collection as well.

Almost more interesting was going into the Film Archive, and looking at their rules for use of their material. I'm sad to say that we're not going to be able to use any of their stuff for the 48 Hour Film Competition; they do not allow or make personal copies (not even screencaptures or photos of the screen), and license their material commercially for $24/second, minimum 30 seconds. (Or $12/sec if you're only seeking rights within NZ.) Since none of us is likely to cough up $720 for a competition we're already paying to enter, they're not going to be a useful resource. They did point towards some other possible sites, though.

Next, Beyond Hatred, a documentary about the family whose eldest son was killed by skinheads for being homosexual. As well as talking to the parents and other kids, they talked to the lawyers on both sides, the father of one of the killers, an aunt; but not the killers themselves, which may have been because one of them was underage when they committed the crime, so they had name suppression. I was astounded by what good people the parents were; if someone killed a person I loved for just because they hated what they were, I don't know whether I'd be able to hope that the thugs have learned, and become better people. It was a slow movie, and told me very little about the larger context that these events took place in; but for this movie, it didn't have to. I felt strongly moved by this film.

And now for something completely different -- a cowboy movie! Yep, it's The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada.

* * *

Just a thought, while it occurs to me: I wonder whether the Americans are weird about nudity and pubic hair in films because there it's almost always about sex when they turn up, or the other way around -- I mean, is it always about sex when there's nudity because, for Americans, the stakes/rating gets raised so much by nudity that you might as well pull the punters in with sex, and if it's not about sex it makes sense to avoid nudity to avoid the higher rating?

What prompted this thought? Mainly Gentille -- the main female character changes into a swim-suit on camera, and talks to her lover in bed with her breasts exposed. (Perhaps they couldn't afford the famous Hollywood L-shaped blankets, that cover women up to the armpits while leaving men's chests uncovered?)

* * *

The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada was set in modern-day Texas, and concerned a cowboy, Pete, trying to get the body of an illegal Mexican immigrant he'd befriended back to his hometown, as well as trying to get some justice for him. The casual racism towards Mexicans seemed very real; when the head of the border patrol hears that a few Mexicans made it past, he shrugs and says, "Well, someone's got to pick the strawberries." The first half or so of this film frequently cuts back to previous events, revisiting the death of Estrada three or four times from different points of view, and showing the reason that Pete is so attached to Estrada. Things aren't tied up completely neatly by the end, and many questions are left hanging; but in a satisfying way. I enjoyed this film.

* * *

And that's it. I'll probably pop into work today, and I've got a big gap between China Blue and my last movie; maybe I'll go see Pirates of the Caribbean 2 or something. :)

Movies: Days 9, 10 & 11

Just to show that I'm not abandoning links outside of the film festival altogether, how about a little song and dance to tell us what the internet is really for; or how about a USB powered shirt, with fans for extra cooling? Of course, the downside to that is that it'll tend to spread the no-doubt musky odor of the wearer to a much larger audience...

* * *

I'm falling behind a bit, aren't I? Let's see...

Oh, I feel I should mention the wood-chopping short before Men At Work; it was a contest between two young blokes and an old chap. None of the contestants had dialog; it was all shown by things like the absence of sponsorship on the old chap's singlet, or when he showed that they should take him seriously by showing his axe-head was sharp enough to shave with. Good fun.

On Sunday, the first movie I saw was Our Daily Bread, a sort of art movie about large-scale food production in Europe. Lots of images of banks and banks of humming machinery, enormous farms and fields full of workers clipping, picking and plucking. Unsurprisingly, the meat-works were the most difficult to stomach, though seeing the worker walking through the chicken sheds, looking for dead birds by making the live ones move out of his way was a little... mundanely macabre. There was no dialog; or rather, you could sometimes hear the workers talking to each other in Danish, Turkish or German, but there were no subtitles or anything. I'm glad I saw it, but I think it's very much a once-off.

Next, I met C and Jenni to see Animation for Kids, which was a refreshing change after the disappointment of Animation Now. One of the big advantages of the for-kids angle is that each short must actually entertain, and probably have a stab at a narrative; there's very little room for glorified screen-savers. The stand-out short for me was probably the one where three kids told a story, which had then been animated, called something like "Mad Cow and Crazy-Eyed Dolphin". I learned that the Cow God drinks pickle juice, mad cows have ninja karate chop action, and the Whale God is a bit of a bastard.

Oh, and the importance of, "Dun dun dun!"

I then went off to see Homegrown: Works on Video, which ranged from pretty to pretty good to excellent. The standout short was probably "Frames", which is basically about the relationship between a father and a son, and how that dynamic changes over time. (There's also fatal illnesses, Alzheimers and stand-up comedy.)

It was then off to the not-yet-opened Hawthorne Lodge, which looks like it's going to be a very nice watering hole once it launches; it's just next to Grand Century, and has a nice early 1930s thing going for it (card tables, dark wood and "rules of gentlemanly conduct" tastefully posted near the entrance); the open fire lent the place a nice warmth. They'd gotten a special license for my talented and gracious host, DavidR, the additiverich capo. I had a very pleasant drink, and a good chat to Morgue.

But soon after arriving, I had to scoot off again to meet C to see Linda Linda Linda at the Paramount. It's a story that C thought was very firmly grounded in Girl World; a group of girls was going to perform some original songs for their Cultural Day, but their guitarist sprains a finger; the keyboard player organizes another guitarist, but doesn't consult the others, so the singer quits. The remaining three end up deciding to cover some songs by the Blue Hearts (a Ramones-era Japanese punk band), and almost at random choose a Korean exchange student to be their lead singer, regardless of the fact that her grasp of Japanese is somewhat shaky. Lots of good, humorous performances, and the songs are surprisingly catchy, given that the title song starts with the words, "Like a rat, I want to be beautiful..." I can easily imagine picking this up on DVD.

* * *

Sunday started with The Last Resort. I always feel a bit of reluctance going to things like these; while watching documentaries on, say, the Middle East or global warming, there's always a comfortable amount of isolation between the issue and my day-to-day life or voting habits. But documentaries that show local councils actively saying that it doesn't matter that the law is broken by property developers, or looking at the debacle that was the crown's foreshore and seabed grab... well, it's suddenly something that is much more personal, and for which I can justifiably feel guilty for being ineffectual about.

The basic story behind The Last Resort is how coastal property prices are soaring, and a particularly motor camp has been sold to property developers in order to put 44 luxury homes on that land, despite the fact that there are treaty claims ongoing. But they also looked at how the government departments that were meant to ensure that foreign investment is actually beneficial to NZ have come to see their mandate as facilitating foreign investment, which is not the same thing at all; and a bit about how the legislative safeguards put in place to protect our interests are often being ignored.

Foreign investment, and foreign land ownership especially, are fairly inflammatory topics. While I think, sadly, there's an element of xenophobia about it, I think it's actually very distinct from our attitude towards immigrants. There seems to be a weird idea that it's great if land prices go up really high really fast; but what that means for pretty much everyone except property speculators is that they have to pay higher rates, and that their children can't afford to buy houses in the places that they grew up in. But then again, we've got a weird situation in NZ where it makes the most sense to put your money into houses instead of, for example, manufacturing or the stock market; and people from overseas are in the best position to capitalize on that, if only because the pool of rich people is so much bigger overseas.

(I'm torn about rates, in a way; while I sympathise with the guy who has 77 hectares of undeveloped land and has seen his rates go from $75 to $700, there are a bunch of things (like libraries) that I feel are underfunded. But then again, maybe it's a matter of my priorities being different from the people in Council? I don't feel I know enough about local body politics to comment.)

Anyway, I didn't get to stay for the Q&A session afterwards, because I had to rush off to Saratan, a low-key and inoffensive drama in a small ex-Soviet block country town. It was nice, but not great.

I popped home and spent a bit of time with C, and then it was off to Te Papa to see The Blossoming of Maximo Oliveros, a Philippine film about a family of thieves who have been looked after by the effeminate "Maxi" since their mother died, and how their life changes when a handsome and non-corrupt cop moves into the district. There were a number of very funny moments; for example, Maxi serves his father first, who declares that his other two sons could learn from Maxi's example, and peels off some notes, telling Maxi affectionately that he can buy some sanitary pads; one of his brothers immediately puts out his hands, and declares that he should get more money, because he wants to get the kind with wings. (His father cuffs him, smiling.) But it's a fairly gritty movie, and people who get beaten up look like they're really hurt. It was good, but not on the level of, say, City of God.

Finally, I saw Sympathy for Lady Vengeance, the story of a woman forced to go to prison for kidnapping and killing a 5 year-old boy, because otherwise the real murderer will kill her daughter. She is aided by the people she befriended in prison, though she is quite cool through much of the movie; and when she finds the man responsible, she ends up giving the parents of his victims the choice of taking vengeance on him themselves. There's a strongly stylized feel to the film, which often feels more like a fable or fairy-tale than a normal story; then again, the lead character earns the name "the Witch", and there are plenty of semi-supernatural events, as well as a leavening of humour. I enjoyed this film a lot, and would happily watch it again; but I could see how parts might be hard to watch if you're squeamish.

* * *

Finally, we come to today. First off was Richard E.Grant's semi-autobiographical Wah-Wah, about growing up in the small British community in Swaziland, and the impact of his mother leaving, his father marrying an American, and the royal visit to celebrate Swaziland gaining independence. The main character's gradual warming to his step-mother was very believable, and the depiction of the incestuousness, hypocrisy and ritualized nature of such a small, tightly-bound community was really interesting to see. I liked it.

Fateless, the story of the Hungarian Jews sent off to the German work camps, focused on one boy; it showed that not everyone was taken, but the terrible toll on those who were. There was also an interesting sequence where an American soldier, who is also a Jew, tries to convince the main character not to return to Hungary, because it is in Russian hands. It was often a hard film to watch. I thought it was good, but I'm not sure I'd see it again.

Thank You For Smoking, on the other hand, I'd happily re-watch. I ended up seeing this with Jenni & Lee, and it's probably one of the best films I've seen so far this year. The main character ends up being extremely likable, despite the fact that his every win is a win for Big Tobacco; and no-one actually smokes during the entire movie, as far as I can remember. There's some fairly low-key Coke product placement, but that's about it; some really good, funny sequences in Hollywood, and a good role for Katie Holmes. The other two members of the Mod Squad (Mod for "Merchants Of Death", since the other two are Alcohol and Firearms lobbyists, respectively) are both excellent, and they convey an enormous amount about William H. Macy's character by showing him wearing socks and sandals in the office. There's definitely a message here about the difference between argument and negotiation, and how adeptly framing the discourse is a tremendously powerful tool, one that the people who don't have the endlessly deep pocketbooks of the large corporations need to try to use at least as effectively as their opponents.

Then off to Te Papa I trotted to see Gentille, a French movie which focuses on a French woman deciding whether to accept her long-term boyfriend's marriage proposal, but which I think has a larger theme about how we see (and fail to properly see) other people. There's a sequence fairly early on that reminded me of the recent Flight of the Conchords skit "Jenny", about a woman confronting a man in the park and asking him if he remembered a bunch of stuff... yeah, YouTube has it. Maybe not as funny. :) Anyway, I quite liked the film, and could imagine watching it again.

And finally, The Aura, where a epileptic taxidermist with an eidetic memory and a penchant for working out how to rob the various places he visits ends up being involved in an armored car heist. Very tense, quite low-key; this isn't a stylish heist movie like Ocean's Eleven or The Italian Job, but more an ordinary person accidentally getting in over his head.

And now I'm off to bed; hopefully I won't fall so far behind again. :)