The Pursuit of Capital Letters

And that capped the end of a terrible day. Underpeformance and all.
I'm stomach sick with depression.

But maybe, it marks the advent of something else, something better but less realised. A wake-up call, hate to say you're right, GL my brudder yo. There would be other opportunities right. The birds still twitter like lovesick fools, the flowers still sing to the wind, the sun still scalds people with ultraviolet, it is not the end of the world. But why does it feel otherwise? It's immature to hyperbolise and continue ruminating about something that has already been decided while clamouring for reasons why. My brain knows that, just tell that to my heart. I would like to see that attempt succeed as well.

All I can do after watching Hallam Foe last night is to marvel at Jamie Bell. He was brilliant. He carried the show through with charisma, intensity and little else. I guess, that's what you call X-factor. He simply made the film riveting to watch and there was nothing you could do but watch in anticipation as the world unfolds from the lenses of his binoculars. The plot of the show itself was uneven and a bit fruitcakey but it coasted along fine, thanks to the weirdly absorbing, angry and lost Foe. Didn't feel too much about it though, except maybe a fervent wish to grow up under a delightfully overcast Scottish sky, surrounded by pellucid green waters and fatherly oak trees. The music was really good as well. The songs suited the mood of the movie perfectly. Dayum, the British have it all, don't they. The wit, the scenery, the music, the accent, the quirkiness. Yeah, so, overall, Hallam Foe was a darkly comedic, bittersweet show. I like coming-of-age films. :)



Moving along to Before Sunrise now. I understand why my sister is such a fan. It is quite incredulous that a movie that only comprises of two people talking and talking can affect someone's mood so deeply. But, isn't that what everyone wants? To be utterly smitten by a charming stranger on a train in a foreign country and then go along with the romantically preposterous idea of abandoning reality and joining him/her for a day, after which you would never see him/her again. That's the stuff of fairytale fantasies, the kind where you dismiss as ludicrous and impossible yet at the same time, acknowledge its brief plausibility and wish that it would happen to you. The movie brought out the best in the nature of human relationships, I feel. Chemistry, spontaneity, mutual understanding, symbiosis of the souls, honesty, more spontaneity, randomness and speakingtheirminds. How often do we get to do that in real-life? Often, we keep things hidden sixfeetdeep and stay within our walls sixfootin. I thought what they had was beautiful. They simply enjoyed each other's company through the day. Rickety bus journeys, amusing local actors who were cows by night, recordstore finds, rants against the ex on pinball machines, street performers, struggling poet by the pier, candlelit dinner aboard an empty boat, pretend phonecalls while gazing into each other's eyes, kisses on the ferris wheel as the sun sets, bathed in saffron hues, all the while with a running dialogue about love, life, history, feminism, childhood fancies and failed dreams. How can anyone not love that? The ending was extremely poignant, though maybe, the credits came too soon. But really, the earlier 90 minutes was more than enough magic to fuel anyone's appetite for romance and daydreams.



Okay, I had better get started on work. Wasted the whole weekend on 篮球火 and other videos. It is as if I don't care anymore. Arghh, till then.