The Freedom Roads - Part One

Europe is silent now. Thundering snowstorms swept over Scandinavia. Heat scorched up from Africa into Spain, Italy and Portugal while Belarus, Ukraine and the rest of Eastern Europe were nothing more than frozen plains for a long while. Europe appears oddly intact; its numbers merely decreased as if its people just upped and left, which of course they didn’t. Panic reigned. Where people could they ran for the coasts or the mountains, the highways and railroads quickly clogging. Some got on flights that didn’t make it. The Dutch didn’t notice. Things were decent in Canada though. But David Adams didn’t know this. He would never find out. He was left, by everyone, standing in the midst of it all, silently wondering, what the fuck happened?

Peculiar, how routine takes over everyday life even though it’s changed completely. David Adams would get up every morning, hang the kettle on the hook above the fireplace, make coffee when it whistled, heat up some tins of tomatoes and beans on the tripod above the flames and eat breakfast silently, alone, in the morning sun. Incredible, he thought, how this world can look so similar to the world I’m slowly forgetting.

He would read, always subconsciously scavenging for books, skipping over anything that wasn’t fiction or manuals. It’s all gone anyway. He’d gathered quite the collection by now. Volumes in all sizes and colors occupying the makeshift shelves he’d hung on the thin plaster walls on every surface of his house that he could spare, even in the kitchen. The house was wholly unremarkable, or it would have been some thirty years earlier. Now it was remarkable only because it was somewhat clean and livable. People were living in houses like this all over the world though. Just nowhere near David Adams.
He’d poured a tremendous amount of work and himself into that house. Every room served a purpose. Not a vital purpose, though sometimes his books and wind-up record player were just as vital to David Adams as food and water. The living room was filled with books and vinyl records, candles and a Barcalounger. The kitchen was all reliant on gas or wood and coals when supplies were low. It was also on the second floor because he didn’t feel like running a chimney through the second story floor. He’d turned the former kitchen into a work room with benches forming a horseshoe around the center of the room and tools occupying the walls. He even had power tools that ran on car batteries when he was working on bigger projects, like the bathtub he’d finished in May. He’d started in February. But he had all the time in the world. The world may have ended for all I bloody know but I’ll be damned if I can’t get a hot bath every once in a while! So he started looking for car batteries to power his power drill. By the time he’d dug an 80 by 40 inch square in the foundation he’d drained 142 car batteries. It had been an ongoing and exhausting project. But after he’d built the ramps for the stairs, pushed his 300 pound, bronze, Italian bathtub down two flights and positioned the bathtub above the smoldering coals in the square and took his first scorching, hot bath in 30 years, two words crossed his mind. Worth it!

Inevitably he would get bored. You would think that there was always some work to be done. But there were no zombies. No vampires or mutants to put a dent in his non-existent defenses. Sometimes, when supplies were plentiful, David Adams wish there would be. It was during one of these moments of insanity that something horrible occurred to David Adams. He was standing in the midst of his tiny, sheltered world, regarding the coffee maker that ran on coal, the modified power tools, the numerous, elaborate water collectors in his backyard, the ridiculous bathtub, that a tiny but very loud voice spoke in his mind. I’ve been so busy trying to survive that I completely forgot to live. So David Adams left.

The Matrix – Why Wake Up?

If an enormous alien lifted the sky and peeked down at us with one giant, glowing eye, wouldn’t you prefer that he just put the lid back on and we could forget all about it? Isn’t it better to be under the delusion that we matter than to discover how very small and insignificant we actually are? Would you rather live in Zion or your hometown?
I’m with Cypher on this one. Not in the sense that he betrayed his fellow beings or his wanting a better life at all costs, but I’m with him on his basic idea. Why wake up to a desolate, horrible wasteland, when you can stay in the dream, without knowing you’re dreaming? The damage has already been done, so isn’t it win/win for machine and man? They get energy and we get to live like we used to, at least for all we know. Didn’t Neo screw us on this one?

Diary 3 – Sigh, Sunday. 2010-01-24.

Dumbass woke me up at 4 in the morning, by hammering on my window (why do people insist on doing that?). Got up, threw on some sweatpants and stumbled to the front door to let him in. Motherfucker’s drunk as a motherfucker and he nearly trips on the stairs. I immediately go to my bedroom and shut the door, ‘cause I’m kinda pissed, but dumbass follows me because he needs to use the bathroom.
- She kissed me dude!
- Wonderful.
I’m still sick and if you recorded my voice and played it back to me, I would’ve thought that dude had throat cancer. Either that or he was Clive Barker.
Dumbass does his business and returns to my living room to pollute my couch. I try to go back to sleep but fail and a Fight Club quote pops into my head. ‘With insomnia nothing’s real’. I wonder whether it would be real if I killed dumbass. Then I chuckle at my own thought. I spend a couple of hours finishing reading ‘The Road’, to try to fall asleep. It’s a brilliant book and I decide to go see the movie the following week. If some of the book’s quality rubbed off on it, it’s worth a watch for sure. I finally fall asleep to some Scrubs on the laptop.

Even though dumbass woke me in the middle of the night, I wake up at around 10. He’s still passed out on the couch. Luckily I have two and I spend a couple of hours playing Borderlands, while I’m listening to the latest SModcast. I’m surprised that Pineapple Express is a real weed, and even more surprised that Kevin Smith smokes it with his mom (SModcast #103, though I don’t think it’s a regular thing). But God bless ‘em nonetheless. When dumbass finally rises to a buttload of hangovers (which I’m kinda smug about) he suggests we head out for some brunch. We try a new place, where it turns out that the food isn’t great but the setting is pimp. The place is dead too though and I leave kinda disappointed. But he was paying so who cares. I drive dumbass home, then drive myself home, then tug one out (in no way related to dumbass) and I spend the rest of the day on the forums, playing Borderlands and reading Smith’s My Boring-Ass Life. I fall asleep on the couch.

The Deer Hunter - Review

I think (or rather I hope) you all know the story.
A group of friends, who work in the iron industry, enjoys hunting deer together. One of the guys is getting married while three other guys are going to fight in the Vietnam War. To mark these occasions they go on a deer hunt together. After the wedding (which maybe takes a bit too long in the movie) we are abruptly thrown into the action. The movie shifts to the war in Vietnam. Michael, Nicky and Steven are taken prisoners in a Viet Cong camp. After playing a deadly round of Russian roulette they escape the camp, where after the movie divides into two. We follow Michael’s return home, we see how he gets back on his feet and we see him hunt deer again. But we also see constant references to the horrors the guys experienced in the war.
Which brings us to Nicky. Nicky never returned home. He faded out from his earlier life and we follow his psychological descent. He visit prostitutes, drinks and upon stumbling into a bar where he puts a gun to his head he becomes involved in a Vietnamese ‘club’ where they play and bet on Russian roulette. The same game he and Michael were forced to play in the Viet Cong camp.
The story of Michael and the story of Nicky merge in such a heartbreaking manner, that I won’t reveal it for you, just in the unlikely case that you haven’t watched the movie.This movie stars Robert de Niro and Christopher Walken. I single these two out because the other actors appear mediocre compared to them. This isn’t due to Walken and de Niro’s individual performances, but the acting between them. The chemistry is amazing and I dare say it’s the best I’ve seen. The Russian roulette scene in the camp made me feel uncomfortable. I felt sick. On the contrary to repulsing horror scenes this was a positive discomfort, since the feelings were triggered due to amazing acting instead of disgusting gore scenes.
Another memorable scene was when Nicky walked in on a game of Russian roulette. He takes the gun without hesitation and puts it to the contestant’s head and pulls the trigger, where after he immediately puts the gun to his own head - all done with a dead, indifferent look in his eyes.

These scenes were executed with amazing acting. However, the scenes wouldn’t be half as powerful, was it not for the great writing. The Russian roulette is an extremely powerful tool and the movie is plastered with brilliant symbols. One of the best is the scene with Michael and the deer. After a lengthily chase Michael finally catches up with the deer but he realizes that he can’t shoot it. The deer superiorly regards Michael, after which it slowly walks away without dignifying him another look.
Michael had just returned from the Vietnam War. He’s shot people and yet he couldn’t shoot a deer. The majestic and superior gaze of the deer seems a symbol of the indifference and idiocy of mankind. The deer seems superior compared to Michael. It has no worries and it does not bring pain and suffering to itself. This same indifference is emphasized via Nicky, which seems to have given in to it and thrown his life away, and the green barrette who utters; “just f*ck it all’, in the beginning of the movie. The game of Russian roulette alone is filled with idiocy and meaninglessness and this game is equated with the Vietnam War itself. And war in general for that matter.

It’s been a long time since I’ve watched a movie that had this kind of emotional impact on me. I’ve always loved Walken due to his performances in ‘The Prophecy’ trilogy and his minor roles in movies such as ‘Pulp Fiction’ and even ‘Balls of Fury’ and ‘Man of the Year’. But his performance in this movie laid the basic to the man’s foundation of awesomeness. At least for me.
I’ve got nothing but love for this movie. One can argue that the story was a bit slow to start with, but, to me, that didn’t hurt the movie at all.

Good Will Hunting

Will - Beethoven, okay. He looked at a piano, and it just made sense to him. He could just play.
Skylar - So what are you saying? You play the piano?
Will - No, not a lick. I mean, I look at a piano, I see a bunch of keys, three pedals, and a box of wood. But Beethoven, Mozart, they saw it, they could just play. I couldn’t paint you a picture, I probably can’t hit the ball out of Fenway, and I can’t play the piano.
Skylar - But you can do my o-chem paper in under an hour.
Will - Right. Well, I mean when it came to stuff like that… I could always just play.

I’m very subjective when it comes to Good Will Hunting.
I remember seeing it for the first time with my aunt, when she was in high school. After having watched it, I knew right then and there that I wanted to go to high school too. The movie had a huge impact on me, and even though I’m not a brilliant prodigy I related to the character of Will Hunting. The character fascinated me and, at that time, I could identify with Hunting’s anger and his feelings of being misunderstood.

This movie introduced me to Matt Damon, Ben Affleck and Robin Williams, all at once and I couldn’t have wished for a better introduction. The fact that Damon and Affleck wrote this film, starred in it, and won Oscars impressed me a great deal, and it only made the movie better.
Damon’s acting impressed me even more, and he became the ‘ideal actor’ to me, at that time (mainly because I hadn’t watched that many movies, other than cartoons, I think). It was with Damon’s performance in mind that I began taking acting classes.
Robin Williams’ character, the psychologist who doesn’t care about materialistic possessions and prestige, but merely wants to help and influence people, became my ideal view of how a psychologist ought to be (this kind of character is what Williams does best – if you don’t believe me, you should watch Dead Poets Society and Patch Adams). Williams’ character spawned my thoughts of some day becoming a psychologist myself.

This ‘review’ hasn’t been like the other reviews I’ve made. I’ve left out commenting on all the technical elements, such as the composition, symbolism etc. But when it comes to this movie, they just aren’t important to me and they have nothing to do with this movie being one of my absolute favorites. This is the only movie, which have influenced me to this degree. When I had finished primary school I had no clue what I wanted to do. Who knows what I would’ve done, and where I would’ve been today, if this movie had escaped my attention. Call me nostalgic.

Antichrist - Review

I heard a woman threw up at the movies while watching this. I was skeptic. Thought it was all a bunch of hype. I even told the women sitting next to me (who were covering their eyes all the time, even before there was any scary stuff) that this wasn’t a horror and they ought to calm down. I was wrong. Half an hour into the film I was the one doing all the covering and turning away.

This is by far the strangest, most disturbing, most horrifying and most graphic movie I have ever seen. I will never watch this movie again.

The plot is simple. It’s about a married couple whose baby son crawled out of a window and died, while they were making love. The husband is a psychiatrist and the mother has recently quit some sort of adult education. The woman suffers an emotional breakdown and the husband takes her as a patient and attempts to cure her throughout the movie. He takes her to the place she fears the most, the woods, in order to get rid of the fear. That specific part of the woods is called Eden. The woman eventually goes insane and, well, see for yourself.

Knowing a bit about Von Trier helps to understand this film. Von Trier has had to endure various, serious depressions and as a result, he views the world differently than most people, which is obvious in the film.

The beginning (prologue) and the end (epilogue) of the movie is shot in very similar styles. It’s black and white and the slow motion effects and background music makes it very beautiful. Everything in between is dark and horrible. Maybe this is a statement. Everything between birth and death is suffering and only in death, or non-existence, do we find peace.
The baby boy, who usually is a symbol of life, beginnings and joie de vivre, dies, or if you stretch it, commits suicide.
Various animals appear throughout the movie; a blood-covered fox, a deer which is in the middle of giving birth and an infant crow. The fox is in China believed to be a signal from the spirits of the deceased. At some point in the movie the fox looks into the camera and yells;Chaos reigns! thus stating that there is no afterlife.
The deer giving birth is, like the baby boy, a symbol of life. However, the deer infant is dead and nothing about the miracle, that is birth, is beautiful.
The crow is commonly known as a symbol of negative omens. At one point, the husband attempts to kill a new born crow, because it’s giving away his hideout. However, the crow proves difficult to kill and it takes several blows with a rock before the bird falls silent.
Have a look at the movie poster. The tree is supposed to be the tree of life. However the tree is fertilized with dead bodies. And that is, in a nutshell, the message of this film. What if birth, life and death aren’t beautiful miracles, blessed by God? To Lars Von Trier they aren’t and this movie is a lens through which we are offered to view the world as he does.

I honestly wouldn’t recommend this movie to anyone. Not because it isn’t a wonderfully executed piece of cinema but because I felt sick watching it. I very rarely have to look away and I never experienced that I couldn’t eat my popcorn.

One Danish film critic said that one third of the audience would give this movie five stars. The second part would give it zero. And the last part would have no idea what they’ve just seen.