Sometimes, you watch a film (or movie, as they'd say here) that is so incredibly good and has such an impact on your senses and emotions, it stays with you long after you have left the cinema. Slumdog Millionaire is one of those movies. If you haven't watched it yet, you must! It is, for me, the best film of 2008. Unfortunately, I don't think it is the sort of film that will appeal to the masses, so it probably won't do all that well in terms of ticket sales, but I hope it makes enough that the producer, directors and actors will know their film had the sort of impact few movies do.
If you cut down to the very core, I suppose you could say this is a love story, but it is so much more than that. The premise itself is an interesting one - a boy from the slums of Mumbai/Bombay gets onto the Who Wants To Be a Millionaire TV show and gets answer after answer correct. What makes the film so good is the way he keeps flashing back to past events in his life to show why he knows almost all the answers. A lot of these "flashback" movies are jarring and sometimes weak in the way the past is revealed, but this one was so well done that the constant jumping from past to present and back to the past again was seamless and superb.
Gutwrenching, disturbing, painful at times because of what happens to the brothers and the girl in this tale, accentuated by scenes that so accurately and painfully depict what some children in India go through, the film still manages to be heartwarming and moving. It is everything a story should be - you, along with the "Millionaire" audience, want the "hero" to win. There was no yawning, no drumming of fingers waiting for the pace to pick up again or looking at timepieces to see how much time remains (as someone who shall remain nameless does sometimes during lesser movies ...) We were captivated from the beginning and completely involved in the telling of the tale.
The music by A.R. Rahman was excellent, as always, especially during the closing credits, when I was dancing in my seat. The final scene, a dance in a train station, was a fun Bollywood tribute and ended an emotionally wrenching movie on just the right note.
Go watch this film. You must, you must! Telling people about it is the only way I can think of to pay tribute to those who made it, in a day when there is so much mindless nonsense and crude rubbish in the cinema. This film is, to me, what cinematic art is about.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Tequila!
On this night ten years ago, I was having dinner at Bangsar Shopping Complex with two friends from work. It was Malathi's birthday, so Debbie and I took her out for dinner to celebrate. We were nearing the end of the meal when my handphone rang. It was Mummy, calling to let me know that Whisky was pregnant, after all (I had suspected she might be, but it was so difficult to tell with her), and had just had a puppy in the kitchen! I had to rush home at once, of course - thank goodness I was just a few minutes away! When I got back, there he was, this big-pawed, frowny-face puppy in the kitchen with his proud, happy mama. Whisky had always been a lovey-dovey, mother-like dog, and I think she was thrilled to have her very own baby. All those nights she spent tenderly licking his ears while he grew droopy-eyed ... I'm sure he misses that. Burgundy wasn't quite sure what the little ball of fur was when Tequila was born, but he ended up being a good papa and seemed quite proud of his big son. I love the photos we have of them as a family. They were the only intact family of dogs we've had, which makes them and the memories of Whisky and Burgie even more special.
Tequila was the only pup in the litter, and I've often wondered if it was that, or his grandfather's Rottweiler genes, that made him so big. As Mummy loves saying, Tequila fooled us because he had such a squashed nose and frown-filled face when he was born that we thought he'd look like his father. (I think Burgie was the most squashed-face Boxer we've had.) But Tequila, and his snout, grew and grew ... He's still an exceedingly handsome dog, even though he does not look completely like a Boxer. I really do believe he thinks he is a member of the family, not a dog.
I had him house-trained at two weeks, which still amazes me, and he's never had an accident in the house. I think he'd be horrified if he did! He's such a funny mixture of fun and dignity (though Scotty still takes the prize for elegance). Some of his other training, like walking instead of pulling when on the leash, has apparently been forgotten from lack of practice. I guess that's my fault for leaving him when he was just three. He used to be quite good before that, when we went for walks, but these days, when he sees the leash, it seems to tell him he gets to attack the vet. And I know that it was Whisky who made him paranoid about having any sort of medication put on him, because she used to run off like a wild horse if she ever needed ointment put on her. He watched and learned from his parents ... all the wrong lessons. Except for pulling clothes off the clothesline - that was one trick his father kept trying to teach him, but Tequila refused to succumb to that sort of temptation. He is such a good dog - the only non-destructive Boxer we've had, I think. Must be because he's not a full Boxer.
I miss him terribly (but he would be insanely jealous of Beau, so it's just as well he's not here) and hope his mixed heritage means he'll live longer than any of the other dogs we've had. Buster set the bar high here at 17, and it would be good if Tequila could at least match that.
Happy birthday, sweet puppy. I'm sending you lots of hugs and kisses.
Tequila was the only pup in the litter, and I've often wondered if it was that, or his grandfather's Rottweiler genes, that made him so big. As Mummy loves saying, Tequila fooled us because he had such a squashed nose and frown-filled face when he was born that we thought he'd look like his father. (I think Burgie was the most squashed-face Boxer we've had.) But Tequila, and his snout, grew and grew ... He's still an exceedingly handsome dog, even though he does not look completely like a Boxer. I really do believe he thinks he is a member of the family, not a dog.
I had him house-trained at two weeks, which still amazes me, and he's never had an accident in the house. I think he'd be horrified if he did! He's such a funny mixture of fun and dignity (though Scotty still takes the prize for elegance). Some of his other training, like walking instead of pulling when on the leash, has apparently been forgotten from lack of practice. I guess that's my fault for leaving him when he was just three. He used to be quite good before that, when we went for walks, but these days, when he sees the leash, it seems to tell him he gets to attack the vet. And I know that it was Whisky who made him paranoid about having any sort of medication put on him, because she used to run off like a wild horse if she ever needed ointment put on her. He watched and learned from his parents ... all the wrong lessons. Except for pulling clothes off the clothesline - that was one trick his father kept trying to teach him, but Tequila refused to succumb to that sort of temptation. He is such a good dog - the only non-destructive Boxer we've had, I think. Must be because he's not a full Boxer.
I miss him terribly (but he would be insanely jealous of Beau, so it's just as well he's not here) and hope his mixed heritage means he'll live longer than any of the other dogs we've had. Buster set the bar high here at 17, and it would be good if Tequila could at least match that.
Happy birthday, sweet puppy. I'm sending you lots of hugs and kisses.
Friday, November 7, 2008
Christmas Weather!
I am working from home on Fridays now, which means I actually have a view of the outside world while working instead of being stuck in my windowless cube at the office.
It is now clouding over a little and the expected rain may yet make an appearance, but the weather this morning was incredibly beautiful and reminded me so much of Christmas in Malaysia. Clear, deep blue skies, a brisk wind blowing (though much cooler here than it would be in KL), trees swaying, air that feels clean and refreshing ... I keep expecting to have to run upstairs to the balcony to make sure the birds aren't eating the raisins, sultanas and cherries that we just chopped up for the Christmas cake!
That's what Christmas weather is to me, and I'm now suddenly in a Christmas mood. People living in non-Equatorial countries have no idea what I'm talking about, of course, but that's what Christmas was like most of my life, and anything else just seems wrong. Even Bing Crosby's Hawaiian Christmas song sounds like a KL Christmas - "Here you know that Christmas will be green and bright, the sun to shine by day and all the stars at night ..." I hope we are all able to get together again at some point for Christmas in KL.
The only different thing here is the many leaf colours. Even in our backyard, there's such a variety of reds, oranges, yellows and greens. This really is the prettiest time of the year. Bruce took a bunch of photos when we went up to the mountains a couple of weeks ago and has been working on them, so hopefully he'll post some in Phanfare soon (see, I can nag you even from the blogosphere!)
I have to get back to work now - those rapidly approaching rain clouds look like a storm is coming. That's another funny thing about life here - I'm used to looking out the window to see what sort of weather can be expected, and it's pretty easy in Malaysia to know when we can expect rain (either hujan perolakan or the monsoons). Weather here is not so predictable, so when we want to know what the day is going to be like, we have to check the news or weather website. I still look out a window for short-term weather reports, though. Right now, it's getting very overcast and dark, which feels like a regular November afternoon in KL!
(By the way, I don't think I've ever used the word Christmas so many times in one piece of writing!)
It is now clouding over a little and the expected rain may yet make an appearance, but the weather this morning was incredibly beautiful and reminded me so much of Christmas in Malaysia. Clear, deep blue skies, a brisk wind blowing (though much cooler here than it would be in KL), trees swaying, air that feels clean and refreshing ... I keep expecting to have to run upstairs to the balcony to make sure the birds aren't eating the raisins, sultanas and cherries that we just chopped up for the Christmas cake!
That's what Christmas weather is to me, and I'm now suddenly in a Christmas mood. People living in non-Equatorial countries have no idea what I'm talking about, of course, but that's what Christmas was like most of my life, and anything else just seems wrong. Even Bing Crosby's Hawaiian Christmas song sounds like a KL Christmas - "Here you know that Christmas will be green and bright, the sun to shine by day and all the stars at night ..." I hope we are all able to get together again at some point for Christmas in KL.
The only different thing here is the many leaf colours. Even in our backyard, there's such a variety of reds, oranges, yellows and greens. This really is the prettiest time of the year. Bruce took a bunch of photos when we went up to the mountains a couple of weeks ago and has been working on them, so hopefully he'll post some in Phanfare soon (see, I can nag you even from the blogosphere!)
I have to get back to work now - those rapidly approaching rain clouds look like a storm is coming. That's another funny thing about life here - I'm used to looking out the window to see what sort of weather can be expected, and it's pretty easy in Malaysia to know when we can expect rain (either hujan perolakan or the monsoons). Weather here is not so predictable, so when we want to know what the day is going to be like, we have to check the news or weather website. I still look out a window for short-term weather reports, though. Right now, it's getting very overcast and dark, which feels like a regular November afternoon in KL!
(By the way, I don't think I've ever used the word Christmas so many times in one piece of writing!)
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Living, not reading, history
A little over four years ago, the TV in our living room here in Snellville was on (for the evening news, I think). I hadn't really been watching but then heard some words that caught my attention.
Speaking at the Democratic National Convention in 2004 was a young senator from Illinois. He was extremely eloquent and his words were inspiring. He said what I thought and felt - about humanity, about dreams, about hope. I listened to this man, Barack Obama, and said, "He should run for president of the United States some day." Not because he was full of lofty ideals and descriptive speech but because of his heart and his mind, which came through so clearly with his words. He is such an intelligent man, but not arrogant. He has experienced life in other countries, has a multi-racial family and comes across not just as a citizen of America but of the world. And, as superficial and minor as this may sound (though not to non-Americans), he actually pronounces the names of other countries correctly! That speaks volumes to me, because it says he respects other nations and nationalities.
He loves his country but is wise enough to see it has gone off-track in a number of ways and is no longer the respected superpower and "leader of the free world" that it used to be and can be again. He knew things need to be handled differently, hence his theme of change that was embraced with such enthusiasm. He strongly believes in hope, hence the mantra, "Yes we can", which has stirred so many. He cares and makes those who listen to him want to care, as well. He wants a better nation, a better world, and makes the non-cynical want to be better people.
I have been extremely happy today. The kind of happy that just makes you want to jump up and dance. I've been that way since about 11:00 p.m. last night, actually, when the American election results were finally announced after a long, tumultuous, two-year run. It has been an emotional roller-coaster for those of use who believe in this man. There were so many times when it seemed like not enough believed, but yesterday, that wild ride finally ended on an incredible high for those of us audacious enough to trust that this man is real and feels the hope he talks about.
Last night, as I watched crowds of people on TV (an estimated quarter of a million in Grant Park, Chicago), thousands in New York and, of course, here in Atlanta, hundreds of thousands in cities and countries around the world) cheer and weep, it made me misty-eyed, as well. I have wanted Barack Obama to win for many reasons, but primarily because I believe he is "the real deal" and not just another politician saying what he thinks people want to hear. I was thrilled that enough people shared that hope and belief to make him America's 44th president. It was amazing to see so many others moved by this man, who has an astounding ability to unify.
I understood at the same time, though, what a historic moment this was for America, particularly for African-Americans. To come from a history of slavery ... to have seen, just over four decades ago, unspeakable treatment against their parents and grandparents or experienced that pain and horror themselves, to have lived through and truly understood what discrimination and lack of opportunity were ... With that as the background, there was a lot to absorb. It was almost unreal, hard to accept that America was finally at this point in its history where a man with an African father and American mother will become the leader of this nation in January. This was, and is, a joyous time. Truly a time for dancing, singing, rejoicing.
Barack Obama has tried to make the election about his ideas, his long-term views and his hopes for America, not about race, but last night, and today, his race is on the front page of every newspaper I've seen. The presidential election has certainly been about race for the people who thought they would never live to see this day, and for those who sadly still measure a person by the colour of their skin and cannot accept that a non-Caucasian will be their president in a little over two months. I have heard some mutterings about that, about how suddenly it is all about race, and I'm sorry that there are those who would begrudge African-Americans this time, this achievement.
No, the campaign for presidency wasn't, and shouldn't, have been about race, but surely it is acceptable to let it be part of the celebration, at least for today. Once Barack Obama has been sworn in and begins his presidency, then race should no longer be part of conversations about him or his job performance. Today, however, no one should resent the happiness felt by all who celebrate what really is a moment to savour in America's history.
And for those who are young enough to have grown from childhood to young adulthood in an America that has put enforced segregation behind it, consider yourselves blessed that you don't see what the big deal is and don't understand why some of your fellow citizens are making such a fuss about race today. Race shouldn't have ever been an issue in this election and at least for your generation, and those to come, it hopefully never will be again.
For a non-citizen like me, the election was never about race. It was about Barack Obama the man. The one who has managed to inspire so many in the last few years. It was about his ideals, hopes and dreams for a better America and a better world. He will not be able to be everything to all people, of course. No one can. He has huge challenges ahead of him, and I'm sure that at least some, if not many, will be disappointed by some of his decisions. Critics will judge him harshly and consistently, as they have in the last two years. Some will refuse to recognise him as their president and will deride him. The country has problems, created over the last six years, that will take at least a few years, if not longer, to resolve. The naysayers will call people like me foolish and naive, but that doesn't bother me. I, like millions of others, have faith in this man, and hope ...
Speaking at the Democratic National Convention in 2004 was a young senator from Illinois. He was extremely eloquent and his words were inspiring. He said what I thought and felt - about humanity, about dreams, about hope. I listened to this man, Barack Obama, and said, "He should run for president of the United States some day." Not because he was full of lofty ideals and descriptive speech but because of his heart and his mind, which came through so clearly with his words. He is such an intelligent man, but not arrogant. He has experienced life in other countries, has a multi-racial family and comes across not just as a citizen of America but of the world. And, as superficial and minor as this may sound (though not to non-Americans), he actually pronounces the names of other countries correctly! That speaks volumes to me, because it says he respects other nations and nationalities.
He loves his country but is wise enough to see it has gone off-track in a number of ways and is no longer the respected superpower and "leader of the free world" that it used to be and can be again. He knew things need to be handled differently, hence his theme of change that was embraced with such enthusiasm. He strongly believes in hope, hence the mantra, "Yes we can", which has stirred so many. He cares and makes those who listen to him want to care, as well. He wants a better nation, a better world, and makes the non-cynical want to be better people.
I have been extremely happy today. The kind of happy that just makes you want to jump up and dance. I've been that way since about 11:00 p.m. last night, actually, when the American election results were finally announced after a long, tumultuous, two-year run. It has been an emotional roller-coaster for those of use who believe in this man. There were so many times when it seemed like not enough believed, but yesterday, that wild ride finally ended on an incredible high for those of us audacious enough to trust that this man is real and feels the hope he talks about.
Last night, as I watched crowds of people on TV (an estimated quarter of a million in Grant Park, Chicago), thousands in New York and, of course, here in Atlanta, hundreds of thousands in cities and countries around the world) cheer and weep, it made me misty-eyed, as well. I have wanted Barack Obama to win for many reasons, but primarily because I believe he is "the real deal" and not just another politician saying what he thinks people want to hear. I was thrilled that enough people shared that hope and belief to make him America's 44th president. It was amazing to see so many others moved by this man, who has an astounding ability to unify.
I understood at the same time, though, what a historic moment this was for America, particularly for African-Americans. To come from a history of slavery ... to have seen, just over four decades ago, unspeakable treatment against their parents and grandparents or experienced that pain and horror themselves, to have lived through and truly understood what discrimination and lack of opportunity were ... With that as the background, there was a lot to absorb. It was almost unreal, hard to accept that America was finally at this point in its history where a man with an African father and American mother will become the leader of this nation in January. This was, and is, a joyous time. Truly a time for dancing, singing, rejoicing.
Barack Obama has tried to make the election about his ideas, his long-term views and his hopes for America, not about race, but last night, and today, his race is on the front page of every newspaper I've seen. The presidential election has certainly been about race for the people who thought they would never live to see this day, and for those who sadly still measure a person by the colour of their skin and cannot accept that a non-Caucasian will be their president in a little over two months. I have heard some mutterings about that, about how suddenly it is all about race, and I'm sorry that there are those who would begrudge African-Americans this time, this achievement.
No, the campaign for presidency wasn't, and shouldn't, have been about race, but surely it is acceptable to let it be part of the celebration, at least for today. Once Barack Obama has been sworn in and begins his presidency, then race should no longer be part of conversations about him or his job performance. Today, however, no one should resent the happiness felt by all who celebrate what really is a moment to savour in America's history.
And for those who are young enough to have grown from childhood to young adulthood in an America that has put enforced segregation behind it, consider yourselves blessed that you don't see what the big deal is and don't understand why some of your fellow citizens are making such a fuss about race today. Race shouldn't have ever been an issue in this election and at least for your generation, and those to come, it hopefully never will be again.
For a non-citizen like me, the election was never about race. It was about Barack Obama the man. The one who has managed to inspire so many in the last few years. It was about his ideals, hopes and dreams for a better America and a better world. He will not be able to be everything to all people, of course. No one can. He has huge challenges ahead of him, and I'm sure that at least some, if not many, will be disappointed by some of his decisions. Critics will judge him harshly and consistently, as they have in the last two years. Some will refuse to recognise him as their president and will deride him. The country has problems, created over the last six years, that will take at least a few years, if not longer, to resolve. The naysayers will call people like me foolish and naive, but that doesn't bother me. I, like millions of others, have faith in this man, and hope ...
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