Alright, found myself with some spare time this weekend and caught up with what has become my bonding activity for the Summer... watching movies with the great Ken Ken.
It was either Silver Surfer or Surf's Up, so it's seemed that no matter how much I got to run, I'll end up watching someone or something trying to keep balance on a flat surface while pretending to glide in places nature didn't intend us to.
Surf's Up! turned out to be really cool. I mean, if this quasi aficionado movie critics had her way, I would proclaim it better than Shrek.
Let us take in consideration the endless string of Penguin movies we've put up with lately, March of the Penguins, Happy Feet, Farce of the Penguins, all a load of crap, except for March, which had a life of it's own with Morgan Freeman narrating.
This one had non other than Surfing Penguins... what made it unique was that although this was a kid's movie, their directors took it seriously.
Basically every single stereotype was represented in full. From the typical Surfer dude ( the stoned chicken) to the Wave Jock (reigning surf champ) to the has been (who would rather fade away than be burned out by the game). Of course, right front and center is the dreamer, who not only is willing to win, but to earn respect, which is what all surfers should aspire to.
It spoke volumes about the surfing subculture and the heart of it all, which is the love of the sea and the great sense of wonder that derives from being "allowed to be there".
I thought it was funny, as it should be, but most of all, specially for a kid's movie nowadays, it went the extra mile to be inspiring...alright kiddie aisle is closed.
I also saw a movie this weekend, which really struck the wrong kind of chord with me. I cannot say it sucked horribly, I can say though that I hate it , with the level of respect that formidable enemies show to one and other. I wonder if this marvelous piece of "Americana" is a straight to video gem or if it ever saw, at least a limited release, in ever embracing cities like New York and LA. Ladies and gents, the pinnacle of Salma Hayek's career: Ask the Dust
And yes, peoples of the Internet, that is Colin Farrel. Don't kid yourselves though, he is not Mexican... he is dark Italian from Colorado...
I cannot say I hated the film because the characters caught me, hooked me, actually and after promising what I thought would be an amazing story of love and self discovery, left me wandering the streets of 1930's LA, wishing for the big Quake to come and topple it all off.
I could smack the director of this film in the face several times over, just for playing with it's audience the way he did. The only thing that could save him from my wrath is me ever setting eyes on the original source material and discovering that is actually a crappy novel, thus delivering Hollywood from it's formulaic "better than those writer's plots"
What could have been a picture perfect of life in Los Angeles as the anti NewYork... a place that glitters like gold and yet suffocates and slowly turns hope into content with mediocrity; it turned out to be a trivial discourse about racial perception, with Hayek playing the most despicable Mexican she's played yet.
I was furious. The complexity of Farrel's character was reduced to horse manure by Hayek's childish remarks. The whole movie played like... oh, so you are Italian and feel out of place, you cannot feel more out of place like me, after all I am Mexican, and no one suffers prejudice like Mexicans... Aha! your name is Arturo, it sounds Spanish, but you are not, so you cannot be as pathetic as I am, after all you are white. Oh... you are not white enough for whites? Well you are not brown enough for me...when at a given moment, Farrel decides to escort her out of a place instead of getting into a fight with a bunch of racists, she is quick to say "I knew it you are ashamed of me" (?)
If anything instead of playing a redeeming character, Hayek painted Latinos as insensitive and moronic, willing to bend over backwards in order to get ahead in the "shades of white" game. In the meantime, Farell's character is reduced to trying to love a woman who hates him for things that are beyond his control, and worse, hates herself although she won't admit it... follow me into the next paragraph, because I still cannot believe the woman who so brilliantly played Frida would demean her self to play the grandest stereotype within the stereotype...
The Masochistic Mexican Sexpot... a woman who would rather be beaten by a blue eyed blond that live happily with someone who is sort of tanned. At a given moment "Camilla" (Hayek) utters the pathetic phrase "I want to give my children a chance",and I asked myself... what the fuck, you want to have children who grow up seeing you get beaten on a daily basis while their father grace them with epitaph's like mongrel kids... that's one fucking great American Dream.
Yet, I couldn't take my eyes off this wreck, because they held me ato the promise that it might get better, that somehow this guy was about to write the Great american Novel - Farell's character is a writer. I'll say I loved to hate it. It will forever be in the "Movie that could have been " category. Amen.
Ahhhhhhhhh Quotes:
From Surf's Up: "Cody is here... I can feel it in my nuggets"- Chicken Joe
"I'm Arturo Bandini, who loves men and beast alike, I am a writer. I can't afford to be mean"- Ask the Dust
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