Happy Birthday, Jakarta

Apparently Jakarta just had its 480th birthday on June 22. To commemorate this event, let me quote a few words from a song that I think would represent my feelings for this city:

What does this city have to offer me?
Everyone else thinks it's the bee's knees
What does this city have to offer me?
I just can't see
I just can't see

("Let's Get Out of This Country" - Camera Obscura)

What? You were expecting something nicer?

Thirteen is a Lucky Number

Ocean's Eleven was a heist movie that was smart, stylish, and, most importantly, fun. Each scene oozed playful excitement from director Steven Soderbergh and the star-studded cast. The sequel, Ocean's Twelve, was also a light and fun romp, but, unfortunately became too playful for its own good. The whole Julia Roberts bit was a late and over-the-top silliness that completely threw the movie off its rails. Learning from their mistakes, Soderbergh and crew have decided to make Ocean's Thirteen more in line with the first movie and, in effect, created an enjoyable popcorn flick.

Ocean's Thirteen pits the Ocean gang against Las Vegas hotel tycoon Willie Bank (Al Pacino). Bank double-crosses Reuben Tishkoff (Elliott Gould) on a business deal, causing the original Ocean's Eleven crew member to lose millions and suffer from a heart attack. Danny Ocean (George Clooney) and the gang decide to enact revenge on Bank by rigging his new casino, an over-the-top architecture beautifully CGIed in the Vegas strip, to lose $500 million on the grand opening. However, to finance the job, Ocean has to make a deal with the devil: Terry Benedict (Andy Garcia), villain for the first two movies and fellow Bank-hater.

The plot is focused on the heist job, a welcome change from the previous movie. It sets up Bank's double-cross early in the movie and immediately delves into the fun part: the planning and execution of the casino job. The detailed explanation of the heist game plan, presposterous as it may be, is half the fun of a heist movie; the previous movie completely forgot about that. The script provides a number of schemes for the heist job, some plausible, a few over-the-top, all fun to watch. And, like in any good caper movie, there are also some pleasant twists along the way.

Another change from Ocean's Twelve is the absence of the ladies, Catherine Zeta-Jones and Julia Roberts, the latter being the main source of the silliness of that movie (not her fault, to be fair). But as the movie loses two actresses, it gains one in Ellen Barkin as Abigail Sponder, a deputy to Willie Bank and, according to what Linus Caldwell (Matt Damon) read on Maxim, a "cougar."

Meanwhile, the boys are all back, bringing with them the playful chemistry that has become the key signature for the Ocean movies. While the spotlight would undoubtedly fall to the two actors with the highest profile, George Clooney and Brad Pitt, their characters are restrained, giving the others opportunity to shine. Matt Damon continues to entertain as the inconfident con man, Linus. Casey Affleck and Scott Caan stand out as the constantly bickering brothers Virgil and Turk Malloy; their hilarious story arc is best among the eleven in the movie.

The movie is, however, not without its flaws. Perhaps too focused on the mechanics of the heist plot, Ocean's Thirteen lacks the emotional aspects of the first movie. As a result, the heist job loses some of its urgency. The plot itself, on a closer look, is actually a bit long and unnecessarily complicated. But, as any summer movie, it's not meant to be dissected in detail. It's a breezy movie with glamorous setting, pretty pictures, fun characters, and a smart enough story. Those are enough to make Ocean's Thirteen one of the most enjoyable movies of this year's summer blockbusters.

Dear Sinetron Writers

I don't watch Sinetrons. None. However, I can't help catching glimpses of them when channel-surfing. Considering the little amount of exposure I had to sinetron, it's incredible the number of times I encountered this wrath-inducing scene: the internal monologue.

An internal monologue in a sinetron involves a character talking to himself. The camera would be static on a close-up shot of a character looking distraught as if in deep thought. Meanwhile, the character talks to himself regarding what he feels about a situation he is facing in his head, or worse, outloud.

Sinetron writers, if you want to write such scene in your script...

Don't.

Just don't.

It's a dirty hack. It's cheating. It's embarrassing. If you want to convey the character's feeling, show it in action and dialogue. Don't just tell it for the audience. Respect the audience that are watching your show. An internal monologue insults their intelligence. It says "we don't think you're going to get this story, so we're just going to spell it out for you."

With internal monologue, you are hammering a story to the audience. Well, here's a new word for your consideration: subtlety.

Of course, thats' just a minor problem among a group of major ones: story theft, one dimensional characters, over-acting, laughable dialogue, lack of variety. But we'll start at internal monologue. Baby steps.

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club - Baby 81

After a bit of soul-searching in their previous record, the excellent Howl, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club returns to the hard rocking sound of their first two records for their new release, Baby 81. BRMC also returns to the template of the two records: a mood setting opening track, a killer first single, a total of five good songs, while the rest are pretty much forgettable.

It's a bit infuriating to listen to this uneven record. But ultimately, it's a good rock record with the better tracks outweighing the lesser ones. Just barely.

Key tracks: Berlin, Weapon of Choice, American X.

Dear lord...

I just watched Indonesian Idol on TV. Not on purpose, of course; the TV is automatically set to RCTI when it is turned on. This is the first time I have watched an episode of Indonesian Idol.

Boy, oh boy. Does it suck.

First, the contestants. Not one has personality. Or rather, if I was a kinder person, they do have personality. It's just they all have the same one. Honestly, I can't tell one contestant from the other. They dress the same. Their hairdo, especially the guys, are the same. Even their stage act is the same. Of course, some of the blame can be put on their stylist and performance coach (I'm pretty sure they have one). They are all so bland, I just can't see any of the contestants being a decent recording artist.

Second, the host. I thought Ryan Seacrest was a witless and talentless hack, but Daniel Mananta gives Seacrest a definite run for his money. The guy is truly useless and charmless (wow, that's 4 -less in three sentences) as a TV show host. Why Mananta was chosen over other better and more capable TV personalities (Indy Barends, Indra Bekti, VJ Cathy even) is a mystery.

Third, the judges. There's too much Paula, meaning the comments are at best cliched and at worst non-sensical. Anang (does he have a last name? I mean, other than Mr. Krisdayanti. Oh Snap!), tries to emulate Simon Cowell. But being inarticulate and not witty, he just comes off as mean and rude.

Fourth, the production. It does its job, but very rough on the edges. Plenty of dead air between segments. Horrible mic work on the audience. Camera blocking is awkward. But those are true for a majority of live TV production in Indonesia. What is a specific problem from Indonesian Idol is the godawful dramatic pause before a verdict. It's just too damn long, making it not dramatic, but, instead, boring. And that's the bottom line of Indonesian Idol: boring.

So, I went to see Spiderman 3...

But, first thing first. This is attempt number 372* to revive this blog. Let's hope this one sticks.

It took me a whole week after the release date to finally see it. Some comic book geek I am. In my defence, I did try to watch the movie on three separate occasions. All attempts were thwarted by fate.

So, what do I think about the movie?

It's too long. There's too much plotlines running. The story is structured awkwardly. It's plagued with convenient coincidences with a mild case of deus ex machina. There's too much crying. Emo Peter is disturbing. Dancing Emo Peter even more so.

That said, I like it.

It has a lot of flaws; it's definitely not as well made as the previous movie. However, it has tight action and, most importantly, it has heart.

It's surprising as my opinion goes against the collective opinion of critics (Berardinelli, Roeper, Times' Dargis, Variety's McCarthy all didn't like it) and family (Big brother, little brother, sister-in-law to-be didn't like it as well), something very uncommon.

If I feel like it, I'll post a proper review.

*= Random number that popped in my mind. Illustrates the numerous times I tried to write entries to this blog again. Although, it's not as random as I thought: 372 happens to be the bus number I used to take to get from my Seattle apartment to campus. Psychoanalyze that!

I am the resurrection

I had nothing to say for these five months. But finally...

Nope. Still have nothing to say.

But am feeling inspired to write. As always, I have no legal or moral obligation to divulge the reasons of this sudden rush of inspiration. I'm a bastard that way.

Seriously, there will probably be some posts with actual content soon. No promises.