Seeing red

Red has the most visceral impact amongst all colors.  You stop when you see its sign on the road. It sends chills down your spine when you see blood.  It indicates danger: the red button is what you push to start a nuclear war, and it’s the Commies’ favorite color.  For the alarm it brings, red somehow isn’t a popular choice for home interiors.

Yet, red had been on my mind when I was designing my place.  For me, it represents energy and vibrance.  But somehow it had never figured in the whole set-up until yesterday.  Bought these two Chinese pieces at Justin’s Treasures in White Plains, Q.C. They’ve livened up my place which had had too much gray and black.

Now, let’s bring it back to the movies.  Zhang Yimou’s greatest film, Raise The Red Lantern (1991) is an obvious inspiration.

But the single most memorable use of red in the movies must be Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining (1980).  Also, one of the best trailers ever.  Local movies should learn from Kubrick -- how to make trailers intriguing and spoilier-free.

American muscle

I just spent Sunday at a motor show in Pampanga.  It was also an excuse to have a hearty lunch in the best resto in Central Luzon (Everybody’s Café), and pitchers of margarita at Zapata’s, Angeles City’s famous Mexican place.  But it was David’s ’68 Mustang that was the highlight of the day.  We were there when we first saw it, looking like it was pushed down the slopes of Pinatubo during the great eruption.  

It now looks like this after more than 18 months of restorative motor works.

It’s good enough to be featured in an American movie.  The muscle car has been a consistent presence in mainstream American cinema.  It’s been as big a star as its human co-stars.  

Transformers wouldn’t be as interesting without Bumblebee.  

Steve Mcqueen had to have his potent accessory in Bullitt, also a Mustang. 

Thelma and Louise’s final act wouldn’t have been as dramatic with a Toyota.  

Christine, Stephen King’s killing machine, was scarier as vintage.

One of my fave muscles cars as a kid was Cleopatra Jones’ Corvette.  You’re a child of the 70s if you knew the 6-foot-2 machine gun-toting, karate-chopping Tamara Dobson who played Cleopata.  She was the inspiration for Beyonce’s character in Austin Powers.  No other action heroine in the 70s was a cool as Cleopatra.  She wore the sexist outfits (furs, short shorts, pantsuits, ponchos) and drove a sleek Corvette that had a personalized “CLEO’ plate. 

The muscle car:  one of America’s greatest contributions to pop culture.  No other accessory represented masculinity, power, youth, freedom and excess.  The Philippine equivalent was the lowly Minica which was in many a comedy film.  It even upstaged Vilma Santos in Vilma and the Beep Beep Minica (it could climb walls!). 

The most consistently exciting Pinoy director in the last 13 years.

Yet again, it’s been one stressful day at the office.  I don’t usually complain about work because I always have the construction workers across the street, who’ve just demolished a whole huge building and are now cleaning up the rubble to put up a new and bigger structure, to remind me that what I do “ain’t really working”, to borrow from Dire Straits.  But I’m tired nonetheless even if I don’t get blisters on my thumb.

Then I just have to remind myself that my work in the agency has blessed me with great, great friendships.   It ain’t so bad after all.  Would I have had as many interesting friends if I finished law school?  Naah.

I’d like to boast that one of those friends is Jeffrey Jeturian the director.  I knew him since 1994 when we first worked with a then introverted Angel Aquino for a shampoo commercial.  He was her manager.  Jeffrey was the easiest talent manager to deal with.  He agreed to everything I offered.   I kinda sensed he was distracted, that talent management was a springboard to bigger showbiz goals.   It didn’t take long for him to direct his first movie in 1998 – Sana Pagibig Na, starring Angel.  He’s only done about 7 movies after that very auspicious debut, but his filmography is the most consistent since Mike de Leon’s.

Tuhog is a favorite.  Before the Cinemalaya winner Jay (which I love) there was Jeffrey’s take on media ethics, how reel exploits the real.  Two filmmakers buy the rights to the story of a mother and daughter who've been victims of incest.  The film version turns out to be hilarious and defamatory against them.   It only gets more sordid and doubly painful for the victims.  

It takes an intelligent director to understand the intricacies of juxtaposition, without being corny and preachy.  And Jeffrey is always like that in his movies – smart, subtle, and entertaining.   Hey, he’s my friend! ☺  But I didn't get to see his award-winning film in the last Cinemalaya.  Bad, bad friend.

Moonbeams

The movie's just okay.  The two lead actors prove they're not miscast (the popular stage version had regular-looking actors, like Kathy Bates).  The writing is inspired, at times hilarious.  But the ending is the best part for me.   The most beautiful piano suite, Clair de Lune, plays.   A perfect score to show moonbeams, New York, love, loneliness and toothbrushing.

Traveling through cinema

Many years ago, in preparation for my first trip to Western Europe, I read a lot of travel books and searched the Web like any eager tourist.  But nothing excited me more than travelling and learning through cinema.

I didn’t turn to jetsetting James Bond because explosions in piazzas and gunfights in museums were least inspiring and appetizing.  The movies I researched on were mostly guilty pleasures.  A lot of romance and chocolate box-photography.  There had to be magical moments that were worth recreating, like eating gelato on the Spanish Steps a la Audrey in Roman Holiday. 

Cruising through the Seine like Goldie and Woody in Everybody Says I Love You.  

Riding the gondola through Venetian canals like those lovestruck kids in A Little Romance.

Booking a room that has a view of the Duomo in Firenze like Bonham-Carter’s in A Room With A View.

Reading a book in a London park like Hugh and Julia in Notting Hill (actually there was nothing there).

I dream of going to that part of the world again, soon!  Must save up and take a break from the worrying world of advertising.  While I love my new place, it’s only a few blocks from my place of work, and that’s claustrophobia 24/7.

The most I could do now is to take that trip without getting off the couch.  From my bedroom in Makati, the best way to see the Paris that I love most is through Before Sunrise (1995), Before Sunset (2004), and Paris, Je T'Aime (2006).

I want to see Prague, too.  But I can only think of a James Bond movie - Casino Royale - that had Prague as a backdrop.  Oh, well.  Bond also does romance; so that will do.

Louboutin and Marc Jacobs for Miss Piggy

It's one of the biggest movie events of the year -- the return of the Muppets in November.  Stars like George Clooney, Amy Adams, Chris Cooper, Lady Gaga, Neil Patrick Harris, Ricky Gervais, Whoopi Goldberg, Katy Perry, Ben Stiller are part of it.  In the movie, Kermit, Miss Piggy, Fozzie, Scooter, the Swedish Chef, Statler & Waldorf from the peanut gallery, and the rest of the gang have gone their separate ways.  Walter the biggest Muppet fan is out to reunite them so they could save their old theatre from demolition.

I hope it'll be fun. It's been awhile since I've seen the Muppets.  My generation grew up with the The Muppet Show in the 70s.  It was on Saturday nights on Channel 7, and I remember my dad scolding me for watching a silly show.  At that time, till today, the show's strange.  The canned laughter was awful. Something was exploding every 5 minutes.  Bad puns were all over.  But they kept at it, as if pushing the limits of silliness.  That's why I loved it.

I read that Miss Piggy commissioned the legendary shoemaker Louboutin for stilettos and pumps, and Marc Jacobs for her outfits.  There'll be a fashionisita showdown with Lady Gaga.  That surely will be worth the ticket.

Here's a clip from Season 4:

The Worst Dog in the World and Other Cute Little Things

Those are Bruno and Pippa, two-month-old offspring of my teacup Pomeranian Chloe and Pascal, half-Chihuahua and half-poodle.  Sweetest little things.  They were kissers like Chloe, and got the smarts of a poodle.   I had to find the pups new homes last week since five dogs in a condo would mean hell (besides my grumpy Shih Tzu Bilbo wasn’t happy to have them around).

On the day I gave my two two-month-old puppies away, Hachiko: A Dog’s Story (2009) was playing on HBO.  Couldn’t the timing be more manipulative? 

Like all the canine movies I saw as a kid (Benji, Lassie, Beethoven, Digby, 101 Dalmatians), Hachiko has a very thin and predictable plot.  Dog gets lost, dog finds a master, dog is up for adoption, master gets attached to the dog, dog stays with master till the very end, dog waits for dead master to come home for nine years, dog dies and gets iconic status.  But do I mind?  I don’t.  I watch it every time it’s on. 

Dog movies, other than Spielberg’s, are the most emotionally manipulative movies.  Some do work at a more respectable level, like Marley & Me (family milestones with the world’s worst dog as a conspicuous footnote).   We lap them up, find them excusable, and embrace the cuteness and sentimentality, just once in a while.  Life’s too stressful for too much arthouse.  Or crime, conflict, even Cujo.