Smashed Up Integrity

Let me tell you about someone I've met recently, a person I'm going to refer to as Ruiner Rose. She's your average 23 year old girl, living in the shadow of her boyfriend, Jerky Jim, and in the constant admiring gaze of Random Randy. Rose is one of those young adults who like to show their sadness and lack of satisfaction with their lives via doing pretty extreme things.

(A bracketed passage to all the depressed people in the world: cutting yourself isn't extreme by any means. It's a cliché.)

I've met Rose last weekend when I was having a drink with a few pals of mine in a pub. Parting apart from her company, suddenly she comes to our table and asks if we wanted to play a match of table football with her. Sure, we answer and introduce ourselves. Before the game starts she tells us how much she likes the sound of breaking glass. "It's the best sound ever." After the match she demonstrates how serious she was about this: she drinks her beer and smashes the glass to the table. Again. And again. And one more time.

It was nice meeting you, weirdo, we think and sit back to our table. But still keeping an eye on Rose. She doesn't go back to her friends' table to their epic card game play. Instead she does what The Fuck You Man likes to call angsting. She just sits near the football table with her head bent down, her fingers caressing the remains of the glass. After a while she gets her coat, says goodbye and leaves.

Ten seconds of thinking, then I get up, say "I'll be back in ten minutes" and go after her. At the pub entrance I meet with Random Randy, your typical nice boy (imagine a strange hybrid of Daniel Craig and Kåre Hedebrant with an attitude that's kinda pathetic even when you compare it to my natural shyness). I ask him if he saw a girl around here, and where did she go. He shows me the direction and within a minute I reach Rose.

First thing, I assure her that I'm not hitting on her, but like, I really-really want to talk if she has the time. She isn't in a hurry, so we start to talk, when Randy shows up with the lamest "can I put my hand in your panties?"-type smile, says hello, and asks if he bothers us. "Just a little bit", I say. "Yeah, you really do", replies Rose, so Randy says sorry and walks back to the pub. I really feel sorry for him. You can't blame someone if he wanted to have Rose's company. The girl has nice looks, I have to admit, and it's hardly fair that I totally occupied her. But whatever, this is life. Cut to the chase.

A few minutes later me and Rose are sitting on the side of the curb, and she tells me everything. An awful lot of things, actually, but here's the point: she wants more from her life. More than sitting in pubs and playing card games. It's not her type of stuff, her buddies bore her. Also, she can't get out from her three year old on/off relationship with a guy who's good company but can't really understand her. She wants more than school, work and hanging out like this. The only really good things in her life are a few really close good friends who accept her that way. Unconditional love and all that stuff.

But she isn't satisfied. Anxiety, depression, social fears, and all the things you should leave behind with your teenage years are all around her neck, and the only thing that helps her feeling better is the glass breaking. The sound gives her a jolt, and the thought of destroying something is somehow uplifting for Rose. That reminds me of Fight Club, I say, and she agrees. Yes, she saw it and thought it's a classic that needs to be seen by everyone. At that moment when she says this, I feel a strange bond with Rose. For a young woman she's really like a cool and intelligent guy, dealing with most of the problems and pessimistic thoughts as I do. I'd love to have her as a sister. And damn, you can imagine how much I wanted to make her feel better. To help her. At any cost.

Now, wall-of-text-haters, here comes the interesting part. Twenty-few minutes passes when the boyfriend, Jerky Jim calls her. Turns out he's down there with the other friends at the table, but for now he's a bit concerned about where has his girlfriend gone. He really wants to meet her, so Rose tells him we're out there. The guy shows up, sits besides us, starts the caressing-hugging-howareyou-prettyone ritual with her girlfriend, and says to me "Go on, just keep talking, I love chatting, too" with the famous "Get away from my chick, go fuck your mother" look on his face.

Not the best feeling when a this kind of guy's girl pays more attention to you, says "You know, you don't understand me at all" to him and finally hugs you as saying goodbye. Whatever, the next few minutes were interesting. I gave away a few encouraging words to Rose, and some advices about life that she could fallow if she wants to. Jim was laughing at us in a poor over-the-top theatrical way, saying that Rose doesn't have any problems at all, and we are both way too young to know anything about life. He's at a university, and if I ever get there, I'll know more. With my 19 years I'm just a kid, pretending to know something. It's good that I'm thinking about rights and wrongs but that doesn't mean I have the answers. "I haven't stated that." This particular statement, he completely ignored of course. Otherwise, it was nice meeting him, too.

Alright now, here's a few nice things, simple manners in the case you want a relationship that won't ends up as a total waste. You know how it goes, I'm not offering anything more than my opinion. Advices that you can take, if you want to:

• First, if your girlfriend has any kind of problem, you don't ignore it. You can love it, you can make her do something about it (even if this leads to fights, think about the greater good), or just simply live with it, but do not pretend it doesn't exist. You know you lie. Your girl knows it. Not healthy to your mind/soul, the relationship and your circle of friends.
  
  
• That circle. If it's having a good time in a public place, and she is among your friends, you don't pretend like she wasn't there. Especially when her body language shouts "Hi there, I'm just about to snap, burst into tears and cut my wrists with shattered glass. And how are you doing?"
  
  
• If she does feel awkward, you ask her what's the matter, talk to and cheer her up, even pay for the glasses she broke (that's optional, of course. Rose said they were quite cheap, by the way :-]).
  

Simple things. If you like someone you should treat her/him this way. Even if she's just a kid who doesn't know anything about herself or the world. Or if she's a crazed psycho. That's a fact you definitely shouldn't ignore, though.

Whatever. I wish the best to Rose and good luck for Jerky Jim with keeping his girlfriend. At least there's two people on Earth who understand her more than he ever could.

Maybe even Randy would be better at that. Aw, that poor guy.

Dino Porn

Sometimes I try to write movie scripts when I'm drunk. Really weird, but somehow cool ideas come this way all the time. I've just made a teaser poster for the latest one, don't be shy, click on it:

Here's a link for the uncensored version - kids stay away, I mean it.

Yes, I'm thinking about making a dinosaur porn. Not a very original idea, but listen: It would be a hardcore sci-fi romance, set on Earth in the year 2293. It's a typical cyberpunk future with all the great skyscrapers, flying cars, underground gangs and walls of computers that look like they were made in the 1960s. But besides all this, mankind has finally cloned dinosaurs - mutant ones, who are really intelligent, capable of thinking, speaking like a human, and feeling real emotions, including love and lust.

Our main characters would be two cops/detectives (investigating sexual crimes of course), a young girl called Miki (it's a Japanese women's name, as a little tribute to the Heisei era of the Godzilla films, that's all the significance it has), who happens to end up as the roommate of her colleague, Gabriel (now I'm not sure why I chose this name - but I think it has a nice chemistry with Miki), an eight foot tall, genetically engineered, violent Deinonychus. Of course, as an inside joke, everyone would call him a Raptor, because of the infamous Jurassic-screw up with the species classification, first by Michael Crichton (RIP), later by the creators of the film, who modelled the raptors with Deinonychus scale. (Stan Winston was a real talent nevertheless, sad R, I and P letters for him too.)

Anyways, these two would end up together as the first human-dinosaur couple. Reptile and primate. Interspecies stuff, yes, but don't forget, I'm not talking about zoophilia. It's something futuristic, entirely fictional. And cool. A bit like the old dragon and virgin princess scenario, set in the future, with a surprising twist.

Oh, yeah, Miki should definitely be an Asian girl. I think they are the cutest specimens of the Homo sapiens, and would make an aesthetic contrast with those huge carnivores. Seriously, this stuff could be the new Twilight. Only that it would be really provocative, funny, interesting, and could easily earn a cult status. The Fifth Element on crack, or something like that.

Now I just have to write the script and find a producer who's crazy enough. Wish me luck, while you are calling me a pathetic zoophile nerd who should get a life. (I won't deny that last statement.) Hollywood, I'm coming.

Roar.

I Am Jack's Raging Bile Duct

Man, I'm ill. Was in bed all day long and still feel sick like [insert a non-clichéd word here]. I had to pass the opportunity to have a drink with two lady friends of mine today, because I couldn't even walk to the store right behind our house, not to mention the pub where I was invited. Life has a bad sense of humour, so I'm going to use good satire as a shield against it. Here's a quote from Chuck Palahniuk's Fight Club. You know, just to post something here that's actually worth reading:

I've met God across his long walnut desk with his diplomas hanging on the wall behind him, and God asks me, "Why?"

Why did I cause so much pain? Didn't I realize that each of us is a sacred, unique snowflake of special unique specialness? Can't I see how we're all manifestations of love?

I look at God behind his desk, taking notes on a pad, but God's got this all wrong.

We are not special.

We are not crap or trash, either.

We just are. We just are, and what happens just happens.

And God says, "No, that's not right."

Yeah. Well. Whatever. You can't teach God anything.

Good book. Great movie.

Take care, my friend.

Weapon of Choice

Yay, hurray, it's election day! Should I explain what this means? Time has come to make a stand, choosing sides and deciding about the future of our beloved country. Again.

You know, for the last eight years we had the carnation-guys leading us, the party that constantly screws up things big time, in a lot of different ways - they were forced to change their prime minister two times during this eight years for this reason. (God, I want to live long enough to see the 'Őszöd Speech getting published in our history books, just for the joke of it.) With all respect to my left-handed friends, if Hungary gives a third chance to these guys, I'm going to laugh half a day long and try to kill myself with Diet Coke overdose.

Best way to die. Period.

Well, besides the carnation fraction, we can choose the orange-guys, heroes of our parents and probably the favorites of Alex DeLarge as well. Gosh, I love them. Mentioning the name of this party always reminds me the good old mid-'90s when I was a kid and life was pretty simple. Yes, they own the Granny-sympathy factor and could use nostalgia as weapon, but that's not enough. And come on, what did they exactly said to me in their public announcements besides how big of a junkyard "Fucking Country" Feri has collected in the last few years?

Few years and a few more. Eight, man. Eight years ago on election day I was listening to Conspiracy of One, the worst Offspring album so far. But I still loved it, and still love it nevertheless. Living in Chaos is my ring tone right now. Eight years have passed.

But whatever, here comes the best part: the national-radical guys. Wild teenagers dressed in leather and Hungarian flags love them, the rest usually burst into laughs or tears of fear whenever their name is spoken. They promise great things, if half of them was going to be accomplished, our land would become a better place already. But there's an awful truth about this world, a cliché that even I don't mind to quote: What seems too good to be true is usually not true. Sorry, guys. I don't have faith in you.

I don't think I'll take a step out of this house today. Right now I'm going to watch Christopher Walken dancing, then the latest Doctor Who episode, and finally, I'm going to take a nap right before they announce the so-called winners. Cowardly life, without any responsibility. It's always fun to wake up in a new world.

Frosted Delight

I can't get rid of the thought that one of the latest Gorillaz singles was inspired by my nickname. (Maybe without being aware of it, I was trollin' with Damon Albarn or one of the other guys on some forum?) Check it out:



Funny, how come I've never seen this video before?
Full of surprises, this day is going to be, I can tell you that.

What Happens When You Sleep?

How would you like it if, just for fun, I wrote here mini reviews about all those "first person screamer" mockumentary movies I've seen so far, then talked about the newest "found footage" sensation? Don't answer, read on.

Naturally the first one I saw was The Blair Witch Project from 1999. Great atmosphere, brilliant ending scene, shameful sequel. Back in those days filming something like this was a shockingly original idea.

In 2006 a Werner Herzog - Zak Penn production came out, titled Incident at Loch Ness. Hard to describe this one, I'd say it's a comedy-thriller-hoax, and I wouldn't call it a good film, but one that definitely worth a watch. Give it a try once.

Then came the Spanish [REC] in 2007, and its scene-to-scene American remake called Quarantine. The story is about zombies terrorizing firemen and a TV crew following them, trapped in a building estate. Don't watch this one if you can't handle jump scares, but otherwise it's highly recommended good fun, sometimes a bit predictable if anything. I should watch the sequel too.

Early 2008 Cloverfield was released worldwide, produced by J.J. Abrems, directed by Matt Reeves. It's a crazy, mindless giant monster piece, fast and exciting, a very nice tribute to all those Japanese kaiju eiga movies. Roland Emmerich should have done something like this with his American Godzilla. I can't deny how much I love this film, and would rather see a Clover-sequel instead of... wait, we'll get to that in time.

Probably The Fourth Kind (2009) has the most interesting concept. It's a thriller about alien abductions, set in Nome, Alaska, and it constantly shows allegedly real footages, interviews and audio recordings, while we are also watching a "regular movie" version of the story (they call it dramatization), with Milla Jovovich in the lead role. If it wasn't trying so hard to convince the viewer about the events being real, this film would be fine (as fake as it is, the story is bearable and the scares work - of course, this might be just me, since I was a kid I had an irrational phobia of little grey men.) . But the marketing's pathetic attempt to create a working hoax makes the whole thing look laughable. Universal actually ended up sued because the producers printed numerous fake articles about missing persons and murders in Nome's local newspapers. Does a half-assed marketing campaign worth this much?

The funny part is, some people actually do believe The Fourth Kind is real, and some think the same thing about the flick I saw tonight.

Useless trivia: while I was living in the UK I saw probably 10 buses a day with a huge banner on their sides recommending me Paranormal Activity with the tagline "Don't go alone." I didn't go to see it in a movie theatre at all, only now, months later can I tell that I've finished watching it - only a couple of minutes ago, simultaneously, but not together with that Faust guy. Watching creepy stuff alone in the night with lights off and headphones is good fun. Usually I prefer playing with Silent Hill, but movies could also be good choices. This time I was dancing with a womanizer demon.

Paranormal Activity is a low-budget production by all means, recorded during a 10-day shooting in director Oren Peli's own house with only one camera and about six non-professional actors (90% of the scenes contain only two of them onscreen). It was made in 2007, but not one studio bothered to release it until last year when Steven Spielberg himself saw a copy and allegedly ended up totally creeped out. His praise was good recommendation to DreamWorks, and last autumn the film finally hit the cinema screens, grossing 9.1 million dollars in the first week in the US - with a production budget only $15,000, this flick was definitely a good investment.

Is it a good film? Well, it has its moments. I don't want to talk about the story much (the less you know, the more you'll enjoy it), but here are the basics: the camera belongs to a young couple, called Micah and Katie who's home is haunted by a supernatural entity that becomes more and more violent by each passing day. We can follow their days and nights while they are trying to sort out what is actually happening to them, their attempts to capture evidence, fighting to keep their sanity as things go from bad to worse, and finally, to survive the nights.

I've sliced the film to three parts in my mind: a brilliant first half, a lame second half, and a cool ending. The first half reminds me of a clever quote by Swedish director Tomas Alfredson. The guy's critically praised vampire flick, Let the Right One In is one of my favorite movies, and honestly, I think it is the best drama, romance and horror film of the century so far. (Sadly, just like [REC], it is being Americanized right now, with Cloverfield's Matt Reeves as director. It's a real shame - good movies like LTR1I shouldn't be remade. Fun, brainless monster flicks on the other hand, should have fun, brainless sequels. Why couldn't you stick to the original "Clover2 in 2010" plans, Matt?)

In an interview Alfredson have said that "fear appears before the scary things happen." This is a great truth, and a fine description of how the first half of Paranormal Activity works. After the introduction, the unmissable "exploring-the-location" and "talking scary BS about ghosts and demons" scenes the film officially begins with its night sequences. From night to night, like a wingless guardian angel, the cam films Micah and Katie while they are sleeping in their bed besides the open bedroom door. The whole composition is somehow upsetting, it gives you an uneasy feeling while you are waiting for something to happen.

This is suspense at its best. You try to figure out what you are about to see, and when something does happen, even the most minor thing, your tension snaps. You feel yourself alright during the "thing" (just like Alfredson said), but when it starts, for a second fright gives a huge kick to your fear-level. Those adrenaline-pumper simple stuff like noises made by someone unseen's feet are what I consider good movie scares. For me, they are more disturbing than any roaring zombie that suddenly jumps towards your face. And Paranormal Activity uses them well. For a while.

The second half contains a scene that serves as a turning point from good to not-so-good. After an over the top Poltergeist-sequence, our heroes start to act way too silly and unbelievably toward their haunter and each other as well. The worst thing that ever could happen to a horror film: when scary things happen, we feel ashamed for how stupid our heroes are, and when there's no "action" going on, they start to bore us to hell. This part of the film should have been shorter and less "hardcore" from behalf of the supernatural presence. While it has a good take on the "people driven crazy by fear" scenario, the rest should be more subtle, leading to an epic ending. Because the endings (there are three different version) are neat, but could have been so much more impressive with a better lead-up. I smell a huge untapped chance here.

And this applies to the whole film. 20 minutes shorter, with a little more careful secret-revealing dynamics and smarter characters, Paranormal Activity could have became a classic. But in this form it's nothing more than a low-budget fearshow with some neat scares, that will shortly descend into the dark depths under your memory - and violently resurface every time a strange noise rouses you up in the middle of the night.

Six stings out of ten.