First there was nothing

Aonang Beach

First there was nothing.... Krabi was just another sleepy hollow in the malaise evoking town in the Kra Isthmus. The Hollywood doyens looking upon an exotic location to shoot their next money spinning movie remembered such a place on their tour of duty to Vietnam. Their mission (The movie: The Man with the Golden Gun, 1974) was a great success. Suddenly everybody wanted to be James Bond and would not sleep until they had seen the exotic location where the baddie operated!
Everybody knows Bangkok (with its golden temples, bars, the massage parlours...), Chiengmai, Hatyai, Phuket but Krabi...

Leo does not necessarily refer

to lion lineage. Here it is a

short form for Leopold!

The businessmen got excited. Boom came the highways and the travel tour agents. Since everybody could fly, swoosh came an international airport plying routes to include lands whose occupants could pronounce 'Kr' as easily as kroner and to those where the alphabet 'r' is deemed unpronounceable! Wham, came the pebbled washed walkways and palm tree lined streets in pseudo 90210 posh fashion and designer labelled lifestyle shops...
The landscape of the sleepy hollow is anything but sleepy these days. Dancing to the tunes of the foreigners who revel late into the night in the name of unwinding, celebration and what not, the locals join in the fracas. Hey, everybody loves a good time and what's more? You are making money out of it. Even, their conservative brothers do not raise their eyebrows at the visitors' unholy behaviours. I guess the sight of money lubricates all relationships.
The capitalistic landowners and businessmen are laughing all the way with the killing over their mammoth profits with their deals. The little men at Krabi, albeit gaining marginally from the invasion of foreigners to their backyard, had little change in their lifestyles. They earned more but living became more expensive!

James Bond Island

It is ironic that a strip of lonely islands which just stood pretty exposed to the forces of nature now stands as national heritage park! All because of a movie... The power of the silver screen! Before James Bond it was nothing... Maybe not even a name!

A scene from the said franchise

On motherhood...

Nara Livet [1958, Swedish; Brink of Life(US), So Close to life(UK)]

Director: Ingmar Bergman

A drama which earned 1958 Cannes award for Best director and awards for Best Actress (all three main characters), this is a story of the concept of having children, the guilt, the acceptance and the problems associated with them. 

It narrates the occurrences in the maternity ward over a span of a day. 

Not every child is born in the world wanted, sometimes their loss wrecks relationship, other times so much hope is placed on them which leads to disappointed when expectation is not met!

The film starts with Cecilia Ellius, at three months' pregnancy being wheeled in to the ward after experiencing bleeding. A guilt stricken Cecilia has a miscarriage and blames herself for her predicament. She never wanted the child in the first place. Her husband too, in midst of completing his thesis was not really ready.

Mr and Mrs Ellius' relationship take a dive for the worst and are contemplating separation.

Cecilia, not a young person, feels that she is not fit to be a mum. She feels that at her age, solitude and loneliness just suits her fine.

Sharing her same room are two expectant mothers; Stinas Andersson, a first timer who had way past her due date and is waiting for the baby to pop out and Hjördis Petterson, a unmarried teenager whose boyfriend takes no responsibility of her pregnancy.

Stinas and her husband are so excited to receive the addition to the family and have made plans for the newborn. During visiting hours, the Anderssons discuss the baby's room and the paraphernalia that needs to be added.

Hjördis, on the other hand, was admitted as she was unwell and some time more to deliver. She is generally a frustrated young lady. She had left her mother's house as she could not see eye to eye with her. Her mother was displeased with her behaviour and they had parted on bad terms. Now, at ends' wit and lack of cash, she yearns to go back home but has no courage to face her mother.

In the meantime, later that night, Stinas goes into labour. Unfortunately, her big plans came tumbling. Complications during labour ended with untimely demise of loved child.

Hjördis laments her condition to the welfare officer who, herself subfertile, feels happy for her being pregnant and discouraged her to undergo a termination. Hjördis herself cannot understand she should be happy with her pregnancy as she has been a disappointment to everyone around her.

Along the movie, the three ladies do communicate and give each other support. Cecilia coaxes Hjördis to call her mother for encouragement. She picks up some courage to call her and to her astonishment she willingly asks her to return home. Together, they were going to usher the newborn.

Cecilia's problem is also solved when her sister-in-law gives her some words of wisdom. She resolves to mend her relationship with her kind husband.

Stina, on the other hand, was sleeping her woes away when the film ended.

History repeating itself?

I must be appearing like a painful unfriendly doom prophet to people around me. Pretty soon I would not be surprised if people run away from me to keep me at arm's length rather than engage in a tête-à-tête with me.
Why? You may ask!

Just the other day, a guy whom I know, was boasting of the new management in the company that he was working. The management had recently changed. The company that he had been working for so many years used to be one of last bastions of multinational companies managed by local businessmen. After many business wranglings and buying overs, it came to be run by a famous foreign company.
He was singing praises of the management of the new company, its efficacy and ease of getting things done. And he went on and on...
So, I told him how 3 centuries ago, a  certain group of businessmen presented themselves with exotic gifts and proposals to elevate their lifestyles as well as ease their lives. Then came troubles over troubles. And poof! The businessmen became their bosses.
And how some clergymen came to natives' land with their Bibles. And they closed their eyes in prayer.. Poof! The clergymen held the land and the natives, the Bible!

Lotus feet of the Lord?

The latest catch phrase or latest hip lingo to use in speeches seem to be to include 'leave all your troubles  worries at the lotus feet of Lord and surrender yourselves'. Hey, they remind me of a camping song we used to sing in school - Pack all your troubles in your old kit bag and smile, smile, smile...
Unfortunately, the song 'pack all your troubles' was a propaganda song of World War 1 to motivate the youngsters to sign the life away to the cause of the war all in the name of nationalism and world peace. Is it not ironic that man has to go to war to maintain peace!
I suppose in the same way, leaving all your troubles at the divine lotus feet is akin to sweeping the proverbial trash under the carpet. It just gives us confidence to clear our mind to gather resources to strategize our next moves to rid the trash that form our source of worry.
It may just be a soliloquy or monologue similar to a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on, just is there for visits. You can come and go as you please... They say that about pubs too - you should come and go! You spend too much time and you go wayward!

The glitz fizzles eventually...

No Bed of Roses (Cecil Rajendra, 2013)
Malaysians can never get over the romanticism of the time when we, as a nation, were euphoric over being independent. The years after independence with their favourite Prime Minister at the helm will be forever remembered as the golden era of our young nation. People were accommodative and non judgmental in their outlook. At a time when the colonial masters' way of living and socializing was universally accepted, nobody would look at another with a 'holier than attitude'. Muslims consumed alcohol and no watchdog moral police stopped them.
After the terrible trying times of the second World War and the economic prowess of their commodities at all time high, it was time to celebrate and did they celebrate. Against this backdrop emerged a rose which sparkled for a while but it could but not leave without leaving behind a legacy of a time not easily forgotten.
This book is not a biography in the real sense. It does, however, enumerate significant events in the life of Malaysia's most famous stage performer, Rose Chan at the end of the book.
It is told from time Rose is at her death bed with recurrence of breast cancer in series of flashbacks.
It is almost unbelievable that the author, who professes of never seeing Rose perform live, could narrate in such details and set the perfect ambiance of the excitement of her shows. Perhaps we could attribute it to the author's imaginative writing skills and the imaginative poetic brain of his as well as the champion storytelling ability of Rose's confidante and manager, Lee Ying.
It does not give a year to year account of the life and times of Malaysia's legendary stage performer but instead tells in bits and pieces of her life events from which we, the readers can draw a big composite picture. It starts with Rose Chan lying in her death bed counting her days on Earth.

The origin of this Soochow girl is no different from that of any other migrant to this country. At the tender age of 6, the young Chan was bundled off alone with a relative to Singapore to escape famine. Using her self learnt survival skills, her familial skill of acrobatics, entrepreneurship, helping at the kitchen, undying zest to learn, a broken marriage to a senior citizen of which she may have been sold off, she eventually progressed to be a member of a dance troupe. A wardrobe malfunction later saw her getting more attention than to her dance. Hence, started her performances in her birthday suit, the wrestle with an albino python and being run over by a motorcycle!
To add credence to the story telling, the author had decided to leave a big portion of the spoken narratives in broken English (Manglish/Singlish). It actually adds humour and authenticity to the storytelling.
The tale goes that Rose Chan who became Roseminah after marrying a bloke who had an uncanny resemblance to her heart-rob at that time, the debonair prince Tunku and the swashbuckling movie star P. Ramlee. It goes on to tell about Roseminah using her culinary skills to raise funds for the young nation. She must have known the two ways to a man's heart - the curves and the culinary skills.
Talking about getting into a man's heart, we cannot say that she did master that trade as she married 5 times altogether.
The steely lady had her share of brush with the law, local and international. In Australia, she was once charged for soliciting sex but her charisma turned her trial into more like a freak show to the amusement of the public gallery supporters and the annoyance of the presiding judge.
The law in Malaya those days regarding exposure of the flesh was quite relaxed in keeping with influence of the colonial masters. In spite of various attempts by certain quarters to ban her shows, she miraculously survived. There was a particular law about nudity in public. A nude person is not breaking any law if she does not pose a nuisance to others and does not move when exposed. She was once charged when she was still moving on a carousel-like contraption. In a heart warming trial, she, defended by David Marshall who later became the Chief Minister of Singapore in a case which, by today's Malaysian standard of outdoing each other in 'holiness', only happen in your wildest dream!
This 1950 Miss Singapore 1st runners-up had a stellar international fame. She retired at the age of 51 in 1976 just to be bogged down by breast cancer 4 years later. Being the fighter that she was, she fought the given prognosis of 2 years to live another 7 years. She died almost a pauper, after giving a lot to charity and the bottomless pit of her adopted son who squandered quite a bit of her earning. The goodwill of the general public paid for some of her medical expenses. The book also includes recipes of Rose's cooking and aphrodisiac advice and sexual manoeuvres. The list of gourmet enlisted is reflective of her assimilation into her new found homeland - fish head curry, sambal udang assam, penang chilli crab, penang pork-strips, abalone soup, etcetera.
Looking at the trend of things these days, this book would be banned only if it is translated to the national language. It may confuse people. Otherwise it should be okay! The tutorial on Chinese aphrodisiacal techniques were quite graphic, to say the least!
Her charm is supposedly immortalized by a Wilfrid Thomas, BBC radio presenter, during his stopover at Singapore, who was smitten by the star of the day to pen a composition (Rose, Rose, I love you) to the tune of an old 40s Chinese song (May Kway, oh May Kway) for Frankie Laine to record later. Our own Datuk Zainal Alam had a quad-lingual cover version too.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WdfDYSzxjJU (Zainal Alam)

http://newspapers.nl.sg/Digitised/Article/straitstimes19501030-1.2.3.aspx

Blast, Blast!

Dhoom 3 (Blast 3, Hindi, 2013)

I may not be the best person to write a review as I was hovering between slumberland and consciousness just an hour into this 3 hour long movie. No, there  was nothing lack of noise and gravity-musculoskeletal defying matrix infused type of mind boggling stunts to complement the story. Neither was there dearth of breathtaking scenery and landscape of Chicago (only the aesthetically pleasing parts of the city) or attention arousing Bollywood hip swaying  dances to excites you. Even the story which was plagarised from Christopher Nolan's 2006 film of 'Prestige' (review) could not stop the drooping eyelids. Perhaps Mr Bean would have used toothpicks! Even the pre-viewing meal washed down with double expresso could not do its trick - as it was way too long!

My favourite Hindi actor, Aamir Khan, gave a stellar performance of a disgruntled acrobat who had a bone to pick with the capitalist minded bank which was the reason for the suicide of his father. His father was denied an extension to his loan for his flogging Indian circus. (Why should an American bank loan to a circus company with an Indian name is anybody's guess!) The father's suicide is blamed squarely on a Mr Anderson of Western Bank. The death is witnessed by his son, Sahir. Wait! Indian's fascination with twins in movies never ended despite the advancements in special effects and pyro techniques in show biz. Anyway, the crux of the story in 'The Prestige' is the use of twins. Yes, Sahir has a twin, a stuttering facial ticked Samar. No, there is no good twin vs. evil twin, both are on the wrong side of the law.
Aamir Khan, with magnetic screen persona, literally ruled the whole movie with other the cast members hardly leaving any impression. Abhishek Bachchan and Uday Chopra were literally steamrolled over. The love interest (Katrina Kaif) is falling all over the place, leaving little to remember.
What is it with Hindi movie these days? Do they find painting Tamil gundhas (gangsters) bumbling with their trade a laughing matter? This was the opening scene to showcase the prowess of our two cops in the recurrent squatters' hut wall piercing daredevil auto-rickshaw stunts in a Tamil neighbourhood. And it was supposed to be a comic relief with no bearing on the story per se.

1957 4th Asia Pacific Best Actor Award winner (Tokyo)

The double acting (twin, antiheroes) by Aamir Khan is commendable and the cinematography had advanced so much that the two character can cross each others path without needing a separating space. The different mannerisms exhibited by Samar and Sahir is quite distinct that the viewers always which is the character ion screen. Of course, it is a far cry from P. Ramlee's 1956 classic scene in 'Anak ku Sazali' of the final father and son encounter.
Back to Dhoom 3, the screenwriters decided to script the dialogue ala-Bruce Wayne, philosophical and poetic soliloquy on the part of the protagonist trying to justify his actions. The ending makes it possible for a sequel. After all, the twins have survived more death defying instances. What is jumping off into a reservoir?
Overall, a good CGI infused action flick. Just that it was a wee bit too long.... And again, 99% shot in USA.
Have a blast (dhoom) of a X'Mas and a New Year...

Life is short?

Heard about an internet dating service that promotes affairs. Their tagline says it all, "Life is short, have an affair". They allegedly have 20 million over subscribers to choose from to have a fling, discreet, safe, yadda yadda yadda...

Of course, people are up in arms on both sides of the fence for and against such a site's legitimisation. On the one hand, there is the argument that one should be left to do what one pleases as long as it does not hurt the other party. We should not criminalise affairs as Man, by Nature, are polygamous, and Nature encourages the selection of the best for continuity of species. Whether we like it or not, infidelity is going to happen, just as corruption and cheating. It is always better to do things in the open than doing it clandestinely. They often quote the therapeutic effects of affairs and spouse swapping to release sexual tensions and mismatch. On the other side of the fence, the naysayers argue that affairs are cheating, and people are bound to lie, be hurt, etcetera. And the question of religious sanctions and morals are also roped in. The non-believers would always question why religion is ever brought into the equation! The usual explanation is that something as uncertain and incomprehensible by feeble man as life and its dos and don'ts should not be questioned. They substantiate their support by quoting texts from holy scriptures of impending doom to our civilisation, and these were some of the symptoms. Man and woman's union has always been sacred and intriguing to Man from time immemorial that ceremonies, festivals, rituals, and public declarations have been emphasised. The forces of Nature and God have been invoked to bless this union.

So, how? Are sex and companionship so indispensable to human survival that affairs are mandatory in the continuity of species? Fellowship and comradeship do not always involve opposite genders always - I do not mean the physical nude tactile type! Are they just trying to sell their 'clever' business strategy to strengthen their (the webmasters) relationship with their bankers?