It is that time of the year!

Holdovers (2023)
Director: Alexander Payne

This one comes close to being a feel-good Christmas spirit movie in the vein of 'It's a Wonderful Life' (1946), 'Miracle at 34th Street' (1947), and 'Diehard!' (1988). Maybe not 'Diehard' for its destruction and violence that happens around X'Mas.

When everything looks hopeless, and there is no reason to be merry, one can be a Scrooge, making life a living hell for people or, alternatively, try to at least a little bit better for others. After all, that is how life has been for aeons. Life, with its ups and downs throughout our civilisation, only makes one's life more colourful. Despite all the maladies and tragedy, we still come out unscathed, dusting the dirt off our backs and moving forward to face another challenge. That that does not kill us makes us stronger.

The sombre settings around Christmas make the soul go pensive. Tradition has made one long for lost relatives and reminisce about a carefree childhood. The colours of Yuletide bring out the best of human qualities and only go to square one after one usher in the new year. Is it any surprise that the days following the Christmas-New Year are hailed as the busiest days for divorce lawyers. Maybe the long soul-searching triggered them to seek out new partners.

The film revolves around three characters in an elite boarding school. An uninspiring teacher who is not everyone's idea of a favourite teacher, Mr Hunham, is forced by the headmaster to care for students who cannot return home for Christmas. A parent arrived on a helicopter to take all students off for skiing, except for Tully, whose money had gone off on a honeymoon trip with her new husband. Tully is actually quite disturbed that his biological father is institutionalised for a severe psychiatric illness. Staying back also is the grieving canteen manager, Mary Lamb, who had recently lost her 19-year-old son in the Vietnam War. This movie was set in 1971.

Together, through the holiday period, the three of them found friendship, which did not magically change their past sadness, but it did help them mend their broken hearts and strengthen them to endure the rest of the days ahead. 4/5

(P.S. 'Holdovers' are people surviving a previous administration or such.)

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For bringing the horse to water!

A lady, visibly struggling with her gravid tummy, was heard conversing with a fellow attendee at a maternity clinic. Excerpts from her conversing, which were anything but discrete, were soon made known to others. She was complaining about how she still had to go to school carrying a pair of twins in utero with just less than one month from her due date. This year alone, five teachers had gone on maternity leave, leaving a large vacuum for others to fill up. 

It does not help that her school had 80% of the teachers as ladies and that recently, maternity leaves had been extended from 60 days a few years previously to 98 days now. 

"I am just wasting my time teaching children who are not interested in learning, anyway," she was lamenting. 

Thanks, Mr Khoo!

I remember when a teacher motivated me to push my boundaries beyond my imagination, reaching for the unthinkable. I was just an average student trying to sponge whatever little knowledge my teachers were trying to impart. One thing I never did throughout my schooling life was to fail a test. Be it a public examination or a quiz, I may not excel, but I definitely will not falter. I did fail my motorbike licence test, though. I wanted to save the money spent on riding school but used my old bone shaker instead.

So, I was devastated when the monthly test result for physics was out. I found that I had scored 16%. I stared at big red-inked scribblings on the test paper with disbelief. I should not be surprised as the questions were based on the exact topics my Physics teacher had assured us we would not be drilled. Still, heartbreaking it sure was. 

Pensive mood, are we?

The subsequent examination would be the mid-term test, which would have some bearing on the school testimonials. This cannot be, I told myself. I had to pull myself with my own bootstraps. Frankly, I found it extremely difficult to understand what my Physics master was trying to teach. I felt we were in different lingos, like how a dog and a cat or a hen would talk to a duck. Sometimes, I thought he was the manifestation of an oracle of Delphi. He managed to create a sense of mysticism around the subject matter. At the end of the lesson, we, the students, will stay as ignorant as before. 

Penang Sunrise

The falter at the monthly test pushed me to learn everything covered in the syllabus. I burned the midnight oil in all barrels, leaving no stones unturned. So when the midterm examinations were out, not only did I come out with flying colours, but as the top scorer of the form, I went on to win a book prize. 

Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought of winning an academic award like that. If not for the direct or indirect prodding from my Physics teacher, Mr Khoo, I would have just been another student who passed through the school corridors, leaving nothing behind. Now, I have at least tasted the sweet, succulent taste of victory and personal satisfaction. 'Ain't no mountain high enough!' is no longer just a passing statement or a line in a song.

The recent secondary school reunion was a gesture to show our appreciation to our grand old school teachers who still remember us or at least put up a convincing front to tell us they do. Seriously, just as they made an impression on us, we did not know how much observation they made about us and live to tell us. 

Memorial for the founder, RS Hutchings

One for the album

N.B. Thank you, Teik Hock, Sow Wu, Guan Chiang, et al for the pictures.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.