Last Week in LCC

Somewhere, Anywhere, Nowhere

This post is a bit late since I have been on holidays in Taipei and Sun Moon Lake. Taiwan is a beautiful country, and its scenery and history is this 2014 film’s best feature. The beautiful photography of the Taiwanese countryside, mountains and islands (and men) props up an otherwise earnest but uneven film. It's no wonder that the film has been used as a bit of a tourism ad for Taiwan:




Somewhere tells the story of a road trip between two friends on the road to self-discovery. One is a director who is still grieving for his recently deceased father, and the other is running away from an impending wedding. The story uses contemplative narration, flashbacks and fantasy sequences to create an enticing atmosphere of melancholy, longing and self-evaluation, but all of these techniques cannot hide the fact that the script leaves many ideas unresolved, including the underlying homoerotic relationship between the two leading men. I’m also yet to fully figure out the role of paternal figures in this film, and how it may be a commentary on the relationship between Taiwan and China. Perhaps I will explore this in a later post. The second best feature of this film is the love of food, and the communal aspects of family cooking (side note: I tasted some of the best beef noodle soups in Taiwan, second of course to the Vietnamese pho).  For me, nothing brings back memories of my childhood like the smell of my mother’s pho, “thit kho” and curries, and this film portrays that sensory memory with great understanding and reverence.

Million Dollar Arm

Perfectly disposable fish-out-of-water sports drama for an overseas flight. Neither a laugh-out-loud funny comedy or a hysterical-sobbing drama in which your reaction will annoy your fellow passengers. Jon Hamm has considerable charm and does his best with a rather pedestrian script, but it’s the India aspects that make the film interesting.

In Memoriam

We lost 2 big Hollywood stars in the space of 2 days – Lauren Bacall and Robin Williams. I can’t say I’ve been a huge fan of Lauren Bacall or her movies – the film noirs of the 1940s and 1950s were never my favourite genre, and I’ve always preferred my B&B to be Bogart&Bergman than Bogart&Bacall. But there’s no denying her worldwide popularity and contribution to cinema.

Robin Williams, on the other hand, is more contemporary for me and my friends. Our generation grew up with him as Hook, Mrs Doubtfire, the Genie, Jumanji and particularly for me, he is always Mr Keating from Dead Poet’s Society. Not only did the film introduce me to the screen charisma of Ethan Hawke (who would later bloom in the Before series) and Josh Charles (who would later enthral me as Will in The Good Wife), but also to Mr Keating. Despite any warranted criticisms of over-sentimentality, Mr Keating spoke to many quiet shy schoolboys in high-school English class, introducing us to carpe diem as the worms slowly ate away at our forebears, to the honour of standing on our desks, the freedom of finding our own verse, and the dignity of leaving for the good of the group. I sound my barbaric yawp to you, sir. RIP.

MH17: Limbs akimbo like skydivers in reverse.

Today was Australia’s national day of mourning for the MH17 crash victims. Many Australians were coming home on board the flight from the Netherlands to Kuala Lumpur, and many others were coming to Melbourne for the 2014 International AIDS Conference. It is always a tragedy when there is a senseless mass loss of lives, but the tragedy feels greater when it involves a whole cohort who were working together to make the world a better, fairer and healthier place.

As you grow older, you hopefully experience more of the world, and that big bad outside world that seemed so huge when you were little starts feeling a bit smaller. And conversely, the more people you meet – friends, acquaintances, lovers, new family members – the bigger your world gets. In today’s age of globalisation, mass media and technological interconnectedness, the rest of the world is literally just a click away and the outside world and your world begin to collide. And a finger pressed against a trigger a world away feels like it hits you right at home.

In my own childhood, getting on an airplane was a rarefied privileged experience – first when our family was being repatriated and I was leaving Vietnam for good, and then as a dream to fly around the world. I didn’t fly overseas again until I was in university, and any fears of disaster were overshadowed by my youthful blindness to risk and my excitement for travel. As the years have progressed, the fears slowly increased – perhaps I had more to lose each time. And yet I keep on travelling - more to gain each time perhaps, and fears overshadowed by what's waiting at the destination – be it a new country or city to visit or live in, be it the friends and family I can catch up again, be it reuniting with the love of my life again, even just for a weekend.

In the hours before the news reports came in of MH17’s crash, I had been saying goodbye and good luck to some friends and work colleagues from APCOM, the HIV/AIDS organisation at which I am currently working. They too were flying to Melbourne for the AIDS conference. Some were flying direct, others through Singapore, and others through Kuala Lumpur. One colleague was excited to catch up with activists from around the world, and to again savour in the sights and sounds (and men) of Melbourne. Another was excited to visit Australia for the first time (will I see a kangaroo he asks), but nervous at presenting for the first time in front of a huge audience. He was still there in the office, 2 hours before his flight, refining his speech and taking in all our feedback. When he waved goodbye to us through the glass and hurried onto the motorbike taxi, he had that same excitement and optimism we all have when we travel, whether or not fear overcomes us.

When I think of the families and friends of the victims of the crash, and how they must feel, I think of my feelings at the thought of losing these friends and colleagues who I have only known for 4 months. It’s a small fraction in comparison, and my heart aches at that calculation. Ironically, in times of sadness and hopelessness, I turn to one of my favourite scenes of all time, which happens to take place on a plane:

Weekend

This is a post I wrote for New Years, but due to last minute hassles with moving to Bangkok, I never got around to posting it. But I thought before I post my thoughts on Andrew Haigh's next project, Looking (which finishes its first season in next week), I might as well finish this off, and the start of the weekend seems like an appropriate time to finally post it:


One of my favourite recent films is Andrew Haigh’s Weekend. It’s a well written, tightly directed, and beautifully acted film about a late night hook-up between shy, semi-closeted lifeguard Russell and outspoken artist Glen that morphs into a weekend of discovery and perhaps something more.

It received quite positive reviews and was a bit of a sensation among the gay film bloggers. For me, the most interesting aspect of the film is its subtle exploration of space. Space in our lives manifests itself as distance and time, dreams and aspirations, and conflict and intimacy.