This lj is hopeless

Saturday, we ventured to an unfamiliar neighborhood for our LNY feasting, arriving half an hour early, anticipating the no valet parking hell.   We're told the reservation would be 45 min later, figured math in head it would prob be > twice longer.  That very light-bulb moment, I saw, across the street, a block away, a decrepit theater next to an ice cream shop.   I coerced the others, immediately we texted them poor chaufeurs still circling for parking.

The theater still uses block letters physically spelling out S.H.A.M.E. Other than I've asked them whether anyone has any interest seeing it in passing last wk (nobody), I didn't give out a clue on how I'm absolutely craycraycrazy about the movie I've seen already, and just under my wrappings, a blob of FassbenderGoo with a kickass poker face.  Like any post-Shame sisterhood, I assume, we txted each other whole Sun morning and decided to abandon our families for an impromptu girls' afternoon for a big purging of thoughts on Shame and Fassbender.  I think this is my nirvana, where my RL closest gfs r ALL on the same page at the exact moment of extremely rabid, albeit vapid to the rest of humanity, spazzing.

Our sparkling confetti of Fassbender fangirling 'wisdoms' /Things I do for Fassbender:
Continue reading “This lj is hopeless”

Iz still owned by MF

I think, I've watched one of the lousiest adaptation of Sherlock Holmes to date last night: the Case of the Silk Stockings.  And to flog myself more, half-way through the poorly told TV movie,  I realized I've watched it live a Christmas visiting friends. ARGH.  I don't usu mind diva Rupert Everett, but when he's a drugged zombie of nonchalance ie this interpretation of  'SH'?! *sobbbbb* How painful I'm missing Cumberbatch and MartinFreeman already!! Come back soonER solely for the sake of John, I beggggg you!  *silly tangent: I'm owned by the MFkers: MartinFreeman + MichaelFassbender.  My fangirl life has never been more heavenly.^^ *

And y the utter waste of time?!?  Not because I'm that huge a Sherlock junkie and any fix will do……it has Fassbender. I rewatched a Poirot: After the Funeral the other day….coz it's Fassbender.   And there is always that intangible serendipity with my creepy fangirling existence: I now realized I've seen 80% of his TV work, most I have no awareness of him being in it.  I was at my dentist's office just now, feverishly reading an Interview magazine like my life was depended on it: 
I can't put it better than KK as to why Fassbender everything has been weakening my knees lately:
“You can forgive Michael anything,” says Keira Knightley, who costarred with Fassbender in A Dangerous Method. “It doesn’t matter what kind of character he plays. He can always put an audience on his side, which makes his work fascinating because it continually makes you, the viewer, question the situation.” 

And to be shameless, I love Josh Brolin more just writing these words: He is one of those actors who, through the subtlest adjustments in their physical appearance or demeanor, can appear younger, older, meeker, or more intimidating. And while Fassbender’s ability to morph, change, and disappear into characters may have been at least in part responsible for the early slow-burn of his career, it’s now one of the driving forces behind his newfound success. THIS, every word of it, is exactly what pushes me into the abyss of an actor's/actress' fandom 110% of the time.  It's also exactly why he's not memorable to me at all playing bit roles earlier in his career….because that's exactly his job.   And yup, I just love MF more for that alone.

He seems so grounded and head screwed on so right in the interview, and his way of words reminds me how he utilizes himself on film, there's a very personal, direct frankness, stripped bare of any 'pretentiousness'.  He jokes around, but means his words, yet didn't take himself too seriously. He cares most how he delivers the point across, and not a thought on his own vanity/ego/self preservation, nor how it'll reflect back on him as an actor.  When I'm watching him, I stop being conscious of any performance, I'm led into his character's psyche effortlessly on my part, when often, with many thespians, they emphasize on their conspicuous masterful interpretation of a role. With it, we are fed a judgment, a pov by the artist, which in turn, remove us a degree from forming the most direct, organic relationship with the character, without the meddling of the performer as middleman. It's a 'relief' he renders judging his acting technicality unnecessary. Hmmmm, he may be superhuman mutant with the ability to morph afterall.

"He’s a guy who’s unfamiliar to a lot of people and did a movie that’s really intimate,” an unnamed Academy member told the Los Angeles Times gossip blog, The Ministry. “That was a super-brave performance but … perhaps it inspired people to fantasize, and not actually vote.”

I see…. stupid, ignorant, blind and pull moronic fart out of one's arse about movies not seen/ above the capacity of one's pea-sized brain….etcetc r on job description of 'Academy member'.  Explain to me how Hilary Swank got her Oscars?! Was it Not on her performance but a household name?!  And I can't even think of any kind of sick bastardy pervert having the urge to fantasize after watching Shame.  Are you fcking kidding me in our day and age and planet when an actress is widely considered brave, serious and commendable/ vote-earning when her fine acting job is accompanied by daring to bare on screen whereas when her male counterpart show his man bits it's a big no-no objectification, a discrediting demerit, cancelling out his otherwise mindblowing acting job of the rest of his being?!??! This FuckUp is exactly telling me the mainly White Senile Dudes of the Academy had been voting with their bigoted impotent dicks all along.  My ragey rants aside, I hope he's still having drunken pingpong parties 24/7 with Clooney since his Oscar snub with all the rabid fanlove swarming the bloggerati-tumblrati-twitterati to keep him smiling his massive boyish grin:

And with Tilda documented screaming: “Oh, how fun! Is he there now?”  “But is it real? We should go! Where is he?” “Oh, he’s making jokes. What a shame. I think we should do it for real. How faaabulous!” and on singing Life on Mars with Serkis “That’s a dare! That’s an excellent dare. Okay, Patton, you’re on. Let’s get Andy and let’s go for it!”  I choose to believe this actually happened and Von Trier let a camera tied on his forehead and voila! Best 'most popular, vote obligating shiz/ award worthy masterpiece' 2013.

Checked MF's wiki and he's having amazing work 'parties' as well, working on such a making me very happy list of interesting projects.  The obvious is the (hottest and probably baddie)android in Prometheus:

fanart by Ikarop

AND….he'll be Harry Flashman come 2013?!?!?!??!?!?!?!!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?  Please make it happen definitely coz I can't unsee it in my head forever of him being the hottest BAMF!Flashman beyond imaginable.  I've read a few Flashman adventures in my teen years, it's a ball of fun and I've nicked him LouisCha's Wei XiaoBao in Victorian British Empire.  *and I'm rereading the first Flashman*
*Am a very thorough fangirl*

JinLing 13 Chai (aka War of Flowers) and Shame

I know I’ve been dumping a lot of moody funk here lately, looks like it’s not stopping tonight.  I went to a late Shame showing. I’m not sure what’s with me, but I’m only interested in mind and appetite ruining joyless amazing provocations.

I did not get the full blast of the Fassbender fandom until I watched Fish Tank.  I was impressed w/ things I’ve seen him in, Inglorious Basterds, Magneto in X-men and Mr Rochester in Jane Eyre, but I don’t find him too handsome nor too good for any roles.  I didn’t find him that gorgeous in RL, then.  Fish Tank is exactly my thing, acting is seamless, storytelling is unforced, the pace is leisurely, allowing me to ease into that world, the stories of these characters and participate as a true observer. it’s very similar in theme to An Education, just grittier, in the now instead of 60s, in East End/Essex.  Fassbender floored me by his ovaries exploding magnetic physical attractiveness the second he’s on screen.  It’s a toned down, less abrasive entrance echoing that of Marlon Brando in StreetCar. He’s playing an extremely hard to commiserate character towards the end with the brain in dick guy-psychosis that requires castration, yet till the bitter end, I don’t see him as menacing nor deceitful as despicable as he is. His Connor is a very flawed, weasel in a very pleasing exterior, but I still get he is capable of tiny tender loving feelings for people he cares.  I feel the lowest of scumminess having panty-losing hots for his character…still, but his performance is so simple, direct and effortlessly spot on.  He didn’t do much with expressions or any part of his physical body, but his eyes are treasure troves, it’s all there for you to pick out, somehow he delivers everything that’s necessary for us to know about the character so thoroughly at any specific point of the story.  He’s so entirely persuasive with minimal visible effort and that’s very disturbing in the best way watching someone acts.   But then he’s playing an irresistible charmer, art imitates life much.

Shame is a joyless, lingering, profound movie and I really hate the thoughts on the human condition it’s provoked in me.  No, I didn’t go in to witness Fassdong on big screen and ‘extraordinary’ did not cross my mind at all except it is attached to a bigger chunk of flesh usu forming a whole man, but this perfectly-made junk is so devoid of care, dissolute of feeling anything but pain, an unknown traumatizing past he is mentally wrestling to contain, yet overwhelming him raw every waking moment and we audience are kept ignorant fr his entire history and causation.  We’re just presented with the present bout of disfigurement of his mind and loss of control of his body.  I watched a studly piece of flesh overtaken by a mentally debilitating addiction for 90+ minutes, I wondered every second, hinted by the fleeting damaged vulnerability inside his hollow, lifeless yet intense, almost pleading globes how excruciatingly scary it must be for him to keep up the decorum of putting the right clothes and face on, say fewest words as close to a normal man every second in public and not be a totally pathetic piece of trash he sees himself staring back at him.  Sadly, the opposite of panties shattering sexy.  Shame is almost perfect a piece of storytelling of a story unpleasant to sit through. Shame is really the best most befitting word ever to describe what I experienced.  For Fassbender, carrying around that perfect physique, displaying it unadorned, yet still every second convincing me how deplorable shitty it is to be him, in his body, doing his things.  It’s his eyes, there is that desperate intensity that attracts his ‘prey’ and when we are ‘invited’ in, we only find an emptied out, lost soul yearning for help, for feelings, for everything human he’s detached his physical existence from even when he’s doing the most human carnal acts.  He is ROBBED of his GGlobe. Clooney, u owe him wayyyy more than a flattering peen joke.   He is having some nec sex on screen, surprisingly not a lot and tamer than I expected, and though I recently find him extremely hot!Irish attractive even as a pedophile *am extremely guilty of blasphemy and iz whipping myself*, I don’t want that pathetic shell of a man near my vicinity, at times I am ashamed of myself of wishing to not know of the fact people like him is suffering and existing.  I feel just enough sympathy for his Brandon as a victim of a psychological disorder but at the same time I’m as repulsed as the character is of himself.  For the entirety of the movie, I’m sucked into his character’s damaged beyond repair psyche and it’s an ugly stinky demoralizing existence.  Mulligan is as perfect as Fassbender, there are a couple scenes, esp one she’s singing, that’ll stay with me on both the awesomeness that is Mulligan AND Fassbender.   Give them all the awards.

Before I can gather myself to pour out everything on JinLing 13 Chai, I was sitting in my closet, distracting myself playing with cedar balls until my husband was looking for me and told me it’s bedtime.  I was (very early) spring cleaning, in prep for Lunar New Year day Monday.

I am numb, overwhelmed, staring at the goosebumps from the emotions that shot through me, the same feelings watching JinLing 13 Chai/War of Flowers swarmed me once again.  The cedar balls were to be in the tissue-lined box housing my most precious possession,  qipaos handed down to me by my grandma and mother that started this catatonia.

Continue reading “JinLing 13 Chai (aka War of Flowers) and Shame”