What will Utopia offer You?
With "The Sixth Sense", Director M. Night Shyamalan has fallen into the self-laid trap of impossible expectations.
As the bleakest of his horror films, "The Village" has a surprise ending most viewers may guess long before it is revealed. However this is a mere technicality and Shyamalan's orchestration of mood and terror is as superb as ever.
Sadly, there is an impossible expectation from fans looking for a mind-boggling ending and hyperbolic twist. While "The Village" succeeds as a gothic nightmare, it has become a victim of its publicity buildup.
Looking deeper however, the disappointments are merely superficial. It is easy to get caught up in the mechanics of the script while failing to hear the underlying message of the movie. And what "The Village" says about human behavior is more chilling than any plot twist.
The story centres on a small settlement in a clearing surrounded by forest. The elders of this village, having fled a society they considered evil and corrupt, have built their own self-sustaining colony.
Sealing themselves off from the world, the settlers have struck a bargain with the monsters to remain within the clearing and never enter. They would also never display "the bad color", red, taken as the symbol for desire and longing.
With the children of the elders coming of age, they are naturally curious about the outside world. Offering to contact the outside for supplies, a promising young man is repeatedly turned down by the elders. This is also when strange incidents start occuring.
The villagers have created a utopian society free of strife and inequality. They experience no crime, hatred or greed. They live as an agrarian commune in the late 1800s with no need for money or want. Life is simple, pure and idyllic, save for the monsters on their perimeter.
Yet it is also a life of repressed desires and terrible secrets hidden behind knowing looks and locked boxes. Most of which are discerned by an intuitive but unlikely character.
Tension and mood are trademarks of Shyamalan. Strong performances are also gleened from his cast. As if sensing how thinly veiled the movie's secret is, he tosses an arch into the middle of the story that no one will see coming.
However the disappointment of the plot twist isn't important here. Meditate on the symbolism of the monsters and motives of the elders. You may discover the truly unsettling horror that lurks within "The Village".
WOMAD Saturday!
Almost never happened.
It was one of those last minute decisions. Kate, who had been primed to the event one week before, was geared up and ready for action. However due to work and a mild case of indecisiveness, Susan finally made up her mind over drinks at Wala Wala.
It's no fun slogging all week only to come out into a void on the weekend. Kate and I were ready for beer and dancing. My friends had already gone on ahead and parked themselves comfortably with their blankets and hampers on Fort Green. These hard-core WOMADites were determined to pick out the best spots as they had bought into an entire WOMAD weekend.
As for us, having no tickets wasn't an issue. They were still selling at the Gothic Gate, albeit at a slightly higher price than the combo admission. With four performance acts and Heiniken beer flowing like the rivers of Babylon, this was just too good to pass up.
For the next five hours, Modeste Hugues, Hamid Baroudi, Zap Mama and Daara J belted out that their special blend of Afrian, Middle Eastern, Fusion and Reggie tunes. It waasn't long before the crowd stood up and started swaying to the beat of 'love', 'harmony' and 'peace'. But then, when has it ever not been about 'love', 'harmony' and 'peace'?
Perhaps for popular appeal, dancing under the stars to 'peace' and 'love' is always a welcomed reprive after a clautrophobic week in the office. People want to unwind and forget the troubles of the world and boggie the night away. Copious amounts of alcohol makes the infusion of 'love', 'harmony' and 'peace' so much easier. But perhaps a little too much alcohol as I began to feel my head spin.
Privately, it's usually oppressed or marginalized societies that champion 'love', 'harmony' and 'peace'. No doubt predictably, much of the in-between-song dialogues were about humanity and the general opposition to all forms of conflict. I have nothing against the desire for a better world but at the same time acknowledge that reality is less than ideal for now. But to ridicule or vilify a politician just because it's fashionable or that 'you don't like it' without constructive alternatives, is just tiresome. This has no place at a multi-cultural gathering celebrating the better aspects of humanity.
Spotting Priscilla and her friends in the crowd, I ploughed over nearly toppling several revelers. But most were too infused with goodwill to care. There were some who objected with frowns but quick apologies made short work of whatever ill intent they were formulating.
Priscilla had just arrived and had made good in locating her companions with her cellphone. Drowning in loud music, conversation was naturally quite useless. Giving up on trying to shout at each other, we exchanged hugs and cheek-smacking before plouging my way back to Kate. Greeted with her raised eyebrow, I offered a sheepish smile.
One surprising addition this year were the Apple technicians and their white logoed T-shirts crowding at the control tent. Every performance act featured a Powerbook but more disguised were the xRaids stashed behind the stage. I wondered about the choice of storage medium when DAT would have been just as efficient. Post-concert processing could be done later at a studio. And given that no WOMAD performance has ever been released on CD or video, what could all that storage have been used for?
Retreating up to Fort Canning Centre for much needed water and a sit, the pangs of hunger came knocking. These pesky little groans come when you've just expended all your energy dancing. So making our way back to Holland Village, the vantage point for all three of us, we alternatived to Crystal Jade. Original Sin was first on our list but we had so lost track of time that we assumed they would still be open.
Hot soup, noodles, dumbplings and tea made good on what we were craving for. My alcohol-inflicted head-spin subsided, while Kate and Susan brought their taste buds back to life in a perfect receipe to wash the week away.
Dropping like Flies
This is the season for falling ill. In fact it has becomes the norm to see colleagues around you coughing and wheezing in multiples of ten. Siva would know, as he has so plainfully, or rather painfully
offered.
However, life wasn't 'dis-ease' free when I was growing up. Like clockwork, I would run high fevers and cold chills for two or three weeks at the end of every Primary school semester. Call it the post-exam blues if you will. No amount of care, restrain or refrain could halt what my body was basically handing to me in a sweat shirt. And though there may have been a thousand things that the doctors or my parents could have done, there was just too much youth in me to have cared.
And as certain as the school bell ringing, I would dump everything after the last exam and head down to the basket ball court just below my block. As many of my then school-mates were living in the nearby blocks, a congregation of like-minded brats was the order of the week. Running, playing, much physical exersion, perhaps too much and too little water, I would wake with a splitting headache and high fever the next morning.
Things were not much better even after we had moved to our second house. I would wake in the mornings to sneezes and runny noses. Tracks of forest were laid waste churning out the boxes of tissues saddled in mopping up the flood. I would succuum to flu and mild fever three or four times a year. No amount of vitamin pill-popping, exercise, bountiful sleep or balanced dieting could stop it. Our family doctor simply concluded that I needed a change of climate. And this was when everything turned around.
Living in Melbourne, I enjoyed next to perfect health for almost one and a half decades. The flu and hay fever seasons came and went. My friends, who were ravaged and savaged, would drop like flies all around me. Even after flu jabs and pills, they would cringe, grimace and look on painfully when I drew deep breadths through my nose. I wondered what it would be like were I to step foot back in Singapore again.
Well, nothing much happened really. And it seemed that my body had learned to cope. Half expecting myself to fall sick again, I was surprised that my morning hang-overs never appeared. Sometimes however, I would feel the effects of an infection coming. Though infrequent, treating myself to bountiful sleep and the constant reinforcement of vitamins would be sufficient. I have even employed running as a means of "out-running" the flu.
So I think that a change in climate would be good for Siva too. When I'm home and settled, him and his partner are welcome to come and see the sights for a while.
And with Mr. Bats pottering around the medication, he'll agree that life can be easier. Just how he gets in there between the bottles of cream and racks of pills is something else. The cats can come along for the ride.
Mac Users @ McDonalds
Last night's Mac Meet Up turned out to be one eye-popping event. Never in the history of all meet ups has there been so many raised eyebrows.
Seng Aik and I had just arrived on the scene when Loh Brothers, KC and CC, were handing out goodies to those who had ordered them. Many were inspecting their merchandise with glee. But perhaps with a little too much glee, as some had their eyeballs straining out of their sockets.
Hanx turned up when we were half way through our burgers. I had originally promised IVOR a McHappy Meal, but changed that to a three course dinner, starting with drinks, a tasty burger and finally, hot French fries. Seng Aik cheerfully shouted Julian a dinner after being handed a myriad of coupons. His eyes glittering as Julian offered the coupons up for ransome. But that harvested a bounty as he came away with enough to feed a small family.
As for IVOR, his eyes popped when I told him that Seng Aik and I were heading home minutes after. His glasses seeming to enlarge as he grumbled about making the effort to show up after much persuasion from Seng Aik and myself. However we were sneaking out to meet Julian, who had been starring hard at his computer screen right up to the last minute before taking the 'downward express' from his office.
Greeting Hamish, I offered Siva's regrets and planted a virus-laden handshake. This guy has courageously fended off a infection from his girlfriend and who knows who else. As this is the season for dropping like flies, someone should issue medals to those who remain untouched by the flu.
Settling down to some serious talk, we started with Project Centre, MS Exchange and the MSN Messenger integration on Entourage 2004. Hamish was debating as to whether it was worth the money upgrading from Office X. But the clincher was All of MP3’s music store. With eyes bulging like goggles and his body reeling from the effects, Clarence and I gave him the low down on this iTMS ball-buster. Like a man on a mission, he promptly signed on and downloaded a few tracks after taking out USD10 in credit.
Michael Mann’s
Collateral also received Hamish's seal of approval. Stylish and slick, Tom Cruise nails down his portrayal of Vincent, a seething and cold-blooded hit man who cares for nothing, juxtaposed by Jamie Foxx as Max, the cabbie with a heart who cares for too much. Shot entirely on gritty High Definition DV and edited tightly, director Mann spends the opening minutes leisurely developing the characters of our principal protagonists before yanking the audience on a nail biting cab ride.
Coming along for tonight’s ride were four PowerBook newbies. Stanley with his Rev. A 17" PB (he bought it off a friend for a song), Alex and her Rev. B 12" PB (NUS Law student and a friend of Julian's), Anub (BioInformatics Research Officer) with his Rev. B 12" and Kelvin (whose profession escapes me), a PC switcher on a mission to palm off his 15" AlPB for a 12". While Julian and Seng Aik played doting tutors by imparting their well-honed application and Panther skills, a hands-on configuration of Exchange on Entourage X had Anub's pupils dialating. The poor fellow is forced to use a PC for his e-mails. In recommending David Pogue's
Panther: The Missing Manual to all four newbies, they will be proficient after pawing through the book from cover to cover!
Then suddenly an accidental drink spillage caused heads to turn and more eyes to pop! A flurry of hands came to the aid of Stanley and his 17" baby. Tissues and napkins appeared magically out of nowhere as everyone raced to contain the flood. Fortunately none of that short-circuiting seepage occurred and everyone breathed a sigh of relief, leaving wide-eyed Stanley to caress his lime-flavored baby. Correspondingly, some Airport Extreme users were experiencing the classic “wireless receptionless bonanza”. Kelvin had spent the greater part of the evening trying to configure his 15" to surf the network before deciding to mingle and discuss ideas instead.
Coming across as affable and not Me@n Kelvin of the Laptop Pricing Wars, we talked about Apple’s recent hardware offerings from nVidia’s GF6800 DDL video card, used to drive Apple's new 30” LCD display, to the Dual 2.5GHz G5 liquid cooling block. Kelvin and Loh CC listened with raised eye-brows to learn that these technologies have existed on high-end PCs by
Alienware and
L for a while now. Due to Apple’s partnerships and positioning with industry leaders, its profile naturally results in integrating cutting-edge technology with an already recognizable brand name.
National Day fireworks aside, the line up of PowerBooks at a fastfood joint caused a minor shuffle among the digestive population. Some PC laptop owners who had occupied the forward tables were transfixed by the appearance of so much aluminum. Looking over like deer in headlights, they pondered a passing opportunity for a more fulfilling computing experience.
If they had inquired, they would have found eager minds willing to help them, in CC’s words, unlearn the effects of Windows and point them towards the nearest Apple Store. Struggling between the Scylla and Charybdis of virus infestation, endless patching, spyware and pop-up hell, computer salvation might be found right next to you.
And for a few hours at least, last night was one such night.
Isn't it Enough?
While standing in my kitchen today, I spied a lady attempting to park her car. It would have seemed like any other driver parking any other car on any other day. However on this sweltering afternoon, she spent half an hour at this attempt.
On a sunny day, the interior of your car would probably be hot enough to bake bread. Except that is, if you know where to park. In the carpark behind my block, there are only two locations where your vehicle will receive shade all day long. This is due to the way the tree branches fan out, sheltering the lucky few who snap up the wormy lots like an early bird.
Well this lady obviously knows her lots and has been lucky many a time in nabbing the same spot week after week.
Today is no exception. Returning from somewhere, she sees the lot free and available. However sandwiched on both sides were two large and ackwardly parked sedans. It was obvious that both drivers were in too much of a hurry to bother with making any corrections.
Our heroine was undaunted and she proceeded to twist and turn her vehicle every which way, burning through rubber and petrol to squeeze her hatchback in. After some rather amazing manuevers, she managed the impossible only to find little space with which to open her door and get out. This was a minor detail however as she wormed her way to the back seat and ejected herself and her belongings out the back hatchdoor.
No sooner had she straightened her shirt did she realize that there was another equally sheltered lot adjacent to one of the ackwardly parked sedans. Standing there in disbelief, one could almost feel her brain cooking. If only she had moved forward a little more, she would have seen the lot and saved herself a half hour's worth of petrol, brake pads, arm twisting and wasted effort.
But alas it was not to be and today wasn't her day. As she walked away looking subdued, the owner of one of the sedans emerged to drive away with narry a bother.
Perhaps it was better that she didn't see him coming.
Dimmed Lighbulbs!
Today a colleague called wanting to know the procedure on registering a visitor's laptop. This would allow him join our organization's network and access his e-mail, which is lodged on an off-shore e-mail server.
Right from the start, I told her that a one-time configuration via wireless access will log him in directly. Doing so would negate having to register his Ethernet hardware address with the IT centre. In addition, as he is provided with an account, this would be a no-brainer. With that, I offered to show him how to do it.
But just as darkness decends, the light bulb in her head suddenly dims! She replies: "No! No! No! It's ok! We'll find it." And promptly hung up the phone. Indicative of a sad but blind scamble for brownie points,
I have no problem about being interrupted by someone seeking assistance on something. But what is particularly wasteful about this incident is that if she was not prepared to listen to me or accept instructions, then she has no business asking for it in the first place. So Miss, you have just wasted my time!
With that, the week certainly looks promising.
