THE GREEN HORNET by jaiskizzy

 gist: that guy who knocked up that bitch from grey's anatomy is so rich, he had lypoed all his fat off and is banging chicks on the hoods of luxury cars. and then his dad dies and he befriends a guy who looks like harold from harold and kumar who has ass-kicking listed in his resume. the two become overnight lawbreaking superheroes and soon are windborne dust in the eyes of the media-fed public and of disco santa claus, chudnofsky. and then an environmentalist kermit the frog wearing a la salle jacket starts telling green jokes, you know, just to make the whole thing greener.

reaction: i saw a couple of tv episodes and that scene in the bruce lee biopic where jason scott lee slides down a pole instead of using the stairs. also read a couple of issues of the kevin smith-penned comic. that's the range of knowledge i have about the green hornet. and im pretty sure most of the people who saw this movie know even less. so i find it annoying when they just flat-out say they didnt like the movie, them who were probably expecting something in the vein of nolan's batman and raimi's spider-man. there is so much to appreciate in the green hornet that i doubt they even noticed. one perfect example of this is during most of the mumblecore scenes, i was the only one laughing my balls out. there were some pretty funny lines that im sure didn't even reach their earlobes because, as with the average moviegoer these days, they weren't paying attention and were waiting for the next visual stimulus. these pinoyflick junkies and their longing for the loveteam's big kissing scene, the big drama slap-arama or the squeezed in joke stolen from current memes should not be even watching a film directed by michel gondry.

had i not shown my wife michel gondry's unique style, she probably wouldn't like the movie as she did. michel gondry is in a totally different directorial dimension and few really get his brilliance. with katovision, he showed the audience what most action movies eschew: how the asskicking is planned. you've seen action scenes where the protagonist takes down a whole gang of thugs seemingly impromptu, but of course, everything was rehearsed. kato lets us see how he processes the situation before taking action, hence katovision. and it is a-fuckin-mazing. wished gondry had used more of that multiplying background effect, just to give this new generation kato his own style. i was also blown way by the multiply splitscreen sequence. that thing is probably how you'll see your entire life flash before your eyes when you're about to die.

seth rogen's script is very seth rogenish. i understand the hate because he's a comedian and fat but you've got to give the guy some credit. his screenplay is peppered with funny stuff that are actually funny, and except for that one slapsticky bit in the end, none of them felt forced. his britt reid is a complete departure from the original, which fine because a serious millionaire playboy masquerading as a crimefighter is just another batman. as for jay chou, now, you know someone's a star when he's the sidekick but you know him more than the actor he's sidekicking for. im referring to bruce lee of course. he left a legacy that i strongly believe nobody will be able to equal. so it's only proper not to expect that much from jay chou. he struggled with english but he's okay as kato. but i really think it would have been a totally different movie if stephen chow had been kato. and then there's waltz who was great as the villain but was really sort of the same as hans landa. at least his character didnt need an origin story, where he's the product of something the hero did. he's already the bad guy, it's already his turf, and green hornet just basically shits in his kitchen. and finally, cameron diaz is not the cameron diaz we all salivated over for licking jim carrey's ear in the mask. wtf happened there? i dont know but edward furlong surely looks homeless.

conclusion: the best thing i could think of to defend my stance on this movie is this: round the interwebs some time ago was a faux trailer answerng the question what if wes anderson directed spider-man? dry humor, eccentric characters, indie rock music and the futura font. weird execution, totally different from what you'd expect but goshdarnit i would watch it and pretty sure would love it. green hornet is exactly that.

good: gondryisms, bruce lee homages, black beauty

bad: too much comedy.

ugly: cameron diaz. whose salad did she toss to land this gig?

verdict: 9 one-inch punches.

the grim horny.

what's your sign? dead end.

librans have been described as bastions of balance, appreciators of aesthetics, champions and of charm. and, as someone born on september 26, i believed that that's who i was for years. not that i strongly adhered to that belief. (there are facets to my being that cannot be specified) it's more like, yeah, i'm like exactly that but not everyone with the same sign as mine could possibly be like that, right? (proven by a few librans ive encountered who have never known fairness) in relation with my previous post, im pretty sure i was born this way and merely connected some personality traits associated with libra, and definitely never reformatted myself just to fit the zodiac template.

so anyways, news has spread like spam mail about the revamped horoscopic dodecahedron. astrologers were like, hey, palmreader, wassup? nothing much, balltoucher. just bored and out of generic horoscope ideas. don't worry, dude, i got just the thing. it's 2011, so let's shake things up a bit and add another zodiac sign for lols. that's awesome! let's pick ophiuchus and squeeze him between scorpio and sagittarius. why that one? because i said so, bitch! now go and buy me pizzz. my ass is itchy.

to sum the poorly written astrologers' conversation, yes, because of some constellation readjustment, they added a new zodiac, ophiuchus, meaning there are now 13 signs. despite my triskaidekaphilia, my sign is now supposedly virgo, which just doesn't make sense. but the idiocy does not end there. astronomers have "confirmed" this clustercrap and gave a correction of epic fail proportions: it's been that way for years. in other words, those newspaper and tv horoscopes you've been basing your daily lives on have been false as your grandparents' pearly whites.


screw this zodiac shit. from now on im just a guy who stands for balance, appreciates beauty and possesses ridiculous amounts of charm.

and likes pizza.




p.s. today's realization: it's fiesta downtown and the jeepneys have been rerouted. and guess what, captain obvious? zero traffic jams.

rollerskating octopus, exit stage left

while eating chickenjoy for lunch and hopping channels for good tv background noise, i came upon a zombie movie where a couple of doctors were explaining zombification to a soldier so i was like, yes gore! exploding heads, spurting blood and falling entrails, the perfect audiovisual complement to my meal. then one of the soldiers stumbled into a strip club.

and i immediately thought of a particular local talent show where an actress supposedly won by poledancing. when people had talked about her performance some time ago, i didn't react because, i guess, i just didn't gave a shit about it that day. but today, with the image of that actress accepting her prize for slithering around a vertical rod (even though i didnt actually watch it) projected in my cranial wall, i was like, wait a minute, mcfly, pole-effing-dancing?! that's one of the most useless talents ever, if it's even correct to consider it a talent. commence defensive argument:

i've always believed that talent is something that you're born with, that it's already part of your dna configuration the moment you're conceived. and talent being innate, it should be something you can do without using special objects or equipment or anything else. you can do it anytime, anywhere with near-zero preparation. anything that requires external aids and can be learned is not a talent but a skill. like in rpg games, you learn skills. for example, magic isn't talent. anybody can do it with the proper training and props. when you were born, you did not have genes that give you super card-shuffling ability. now, singing is a talent. and by singing i mean great vocal prowess and not ear-damaging wailing of people whose ears are already too damaged to hear how bad they sound. that is not singing.

my wife is an amazing singer. and because that is her inborn talent, she can sing on the spot because that beautiful voice of hers came part of the package when the stork delivered her to her parents. (which makes me hate my voice even more) dancers can show their moves without music. a couple of steps and you'd already know if one is a good dancer because that unfakeable sense of motion was built-in when they passed the assembly line in the baby factory. i considered writing as my talent but since that needs pen and paper (or keyboard), ive realized my real talent is storytelling. i can spend hours and hours blabbering about my ideas.

so, whether it's in the office, out on the street or a kid's party, my wife, some dancer and i can show everyone our talents. a poledancer cannot. and, of course, should not.

p.s. it's too early to determine iaine's true talent, but for now, her talent is being extremely cute.

p.p.s. although... a poledancer can do routines on a streetsign. but that's just stupid.

there are b-sides to every story

years ago, round the time when i only had one sibling, my father worked overseas. he'd mail us pictures of himself standing alone in the middle of the desert or sitting in his room, wearing a keffiyeh and sporting a badass beard and my mom would send him photographs of us with notes written on the back. and then, sometimes we'd be gathered in the living room, hunched over this silver casette player making voice recordings. though i have no distinct recollection of what childish crap i yapped about to my far-flung father (probably how we missed him, my shoe size and some toy i wanted to have), i do remember a particular portion of those recordings, the recurrent theme song of my parents that concluded our voice tapes:

 

anyways, to compare, if in the future i leave my family to work abroad, there'll be no hardcopy photos in the mail with scribbles in the back, we got facebook. and jeean wont have to subdue a hyperactive iaine just to record her wishlist, we got skype. still, the mere thought living several time zones apart from my two beloveds is an immediate ticket to boohooville. acclimating to different area codes was hard but i managed it because there's text and that comforting knowledge of being able to scurry home in a dozen jiffies. to actually spend a year or two in another country without getting to hug my wife or play with my daughter is gonna be quite an ordeal. i extremely hope that it never comes to that.

p.s. as of this typing, hitgirl is still battling cold and fever. give the cute little baby girl a break, will ya?

p.p.s. and my best friend, jeean, is dueling with stress. cut the gorgeous sexy woman some slack, will ya?