Being the only surgeon in the Soviet Antarctic Expedition, Leonid Rogozov (27) had to perform surgeory on himself when he found out that his appendix was inflamed and could burst any moment. With the assistance of a meteorologist and an engineer (and some local anesthesia) he removed his appendix. Bad ass
I’m being redundant, but again, I love One Day, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, the Harry Potter series, Kite Runner, A Thousand Splendid Suns, Speak, Fahrenheit 451, The Giver, and the Twisted series.
Sweet Valley. HAHA! The saga about Lila Fowler’s ancestors was pretty good.
When the end credits rolled for OTJ, I sought my friend’s eyes in the darkness of the theater and mumbled an invective. In fact, I’ve said the same expletive again and again throughout the course of the movie. Which is not to say that this film brings out the inner foulmouthed street thug in everybody—you just cannot watch it and stay passive.
I believe OTJ is Star Cinema’s one true moment of brilliance. A week ago when it opened in the theaters, I told my friends I didn’t want to watch it because I can’t stand its star Gerald Anderson and its production house, despite the fact that it was directed by THE Erik Matti. A week later I went back to said friends, begging them to watch the movie with me. Apparently my cynicism took a leave of absence.
OTJ is a masterpiece of a filmmaker who doesn’t bullshit his audience. It’s bold and fearless. It doesn’t tiptoe around issues as if they’re made of china. It’s in-your-face, though not in the way big-budget films are nowadays. None of the sappy shit Star Cinema subjects people to. It’s real as real can get. Its relevance is so unparalleled, it’s like watching the news, but dramatized.
Then there’s the all-star cast. You will read in every review that Joey Marquez is brilliant in his portrayal of a cop, and he deserves every bit of it. He even manages to be hysterically funny. Piolo Pascual is underwhelming, which is how I like him to be. Vivian Velez is so compelling that even her simple act of lighting a cigarette sent chills down my spine. Joel Torre is excellent as usual wherever he appears, though in OTJ he doesn’t make everyone blend with the wallpaper because they’re all equally incandescent. And yes, Gerald Anderson wasn’t so bad—in fact he was one of my favorite characters (if only he didn’t curse so Amboy-ishly). He even made me utter my biggest WTF!!! in his final scene with Piolo. Do watch out for the scene where Gerald sticks out his knuckles in front of Joel—I laughed so hard, I swear.
I do not know how to write a proper film review but if this piece doesn’t do it, maybe I need to spell it out for you: IT’S PROBABLY ONE OF THE BEST FILMS RELEASED IN YEARS. DON’T MISS OUT. WATCH IT.
And if you encounter someone as stupidly snobbish as I was a week ago, bonk her on the head, drag her to the cinemas, and strap her in.
PS: The soundtrack is amazing.
A Thousand Splendid Suns (taken from an Afghan poem, Kabul)
Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close (because I love adverbs, and I just realized that’s a stupid reason to love a title, but whatever)
Stainless Longganisa (because like everything in Bob Ong’s life, there’s a funny anecdote behind it)
My Sister’s Keeper, and I do NOT mean this in a good way.
I don’t mean to be cliche, but the only thing that really comes to mind is the Bible. It’s something that you can approach from whatever standpoint and has the power to transform your views on life. I’ve seen it happen to me time and again—I would open the book with a different heart, only to close it a while later with a changed outlook. It’s been said that no one ever remains neutral after reading the Bible. The message is too powerful that you either become someone for it or against it.
We didn’t read anything in school that is worth mentioning, except maybe for El Fili because I’m partial toward Rizal. DepEd and CHEd, if you’re reading this post, please, please require students to dissect readings that are worth their time, not pretentious literature that don’t have even the least bit metaphorical sense.
Oh, I liked A Rose for Emily by Faulkner, which we read in World Lit, but that’s not a book.
One book I stumbled upon in Booksale was a collection of short stories about the 70s. It’s witty and doesn’t try too hard, as most coming-of-age tales tend to do. I just wish the person who borrowed this some 7 years ago would remember to return it.