It takes genius to build a barber’s chair that drops dead people into a trapdoor that leads to a bakery down below.

And of course, it’s rather mad to have one in the first place, with the intention of slitting unwitting necks for meat pies.

Not that I care.

I have Johnny Depp singing at the top of his lungs in front on me. It would be quite ungrateful to say more. Do I even need say it? But I will: I love it. As always, nearly anything with Johnny Depp in it is worth watching.

It might be a disturbing symptom of the state of my sanity, but as the demon barber slashed neck after neck, I whispered to my sister, “ang guwapo talaga”. Not something a very normal viewer would do, but he really is quite guwapo even as he murdered several customers in a row.

I did think it was quite sad, particularly for Lucy. Benjamin Barker （aka Sweeney Todd) did get to slash more than a few necks and exact revenge from a lecherous Alan Rickman. Lucy, however, lived a horribly unhappy life as a vagrant （I’m quite sure vagrants don’t have happy lives, but, well, I’m not a vagrant). On a lighter note, little Joana and the sailor do get to live happily ever after — until they start having bills to pay, that is.

But no matter. Sweeney Todd is a wonderful film. Topnotch, even.

One gripe, though. Why does everybody neglect to mention the presence of Alan Rickman? Everyone goes about promoting a film and go: starring Johnny Depp and that crazy woman who married Tim Burton. But nobody tells us about the fact that Alan fricking Rickman is in the cast. Dogma did, though, and that’s why Kevin Smith is god.

I’ll stop now.

PS: Pinsan Mi, nood tayo. Taraaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Kahit 15 times, ok lang sa kin.

So I went up the bus, took a seat and promptly saw Dolph Lundgren and Tia Carrere getting it on.

Welcome to Pinoy mobile entertainment, people.

I have no idea who actually gets to pick the movies they show on board, but I assume he has no taste. Flicks range from the unbelievably boring to the horrendous “I must scrub this dirt out of my brain immediately” variety. Kris Aquino movies, slasher flicks, and of course, the inevitable B category crap. And it’s not like you can actually look away when the screen is practically screaming, “over here! over heere!”.

With the new 8-in-1 DVDs sold by pirates all over Manila, the conductors don’t even have to pop in a new movie every once in a while anymore. After Dolph Lundgren stabbed his enemy with a samurai and threw him onto a fiery spinning pinwheel, all the Japanese folks (who were in some sort of parade earlier) started bowing to the muscular perfection that is Dolph Lundgren and the credits began to roll — then Jean Claude Van Damme popped up and started going nuclear on Dolph’s ass.

I didn’t get it, until I realized that this was another movie entirely. So the Dolph-is-god-of-Japan movie had actually ended. This time we were all treated to a nice Dolph-vs-Jean Claude smackdown: “Universal Soldiers”. I’m sure I’ve seen the movie before, but I still can’t figure out which one of the two muscular, blonde dead (and then resurrected) guys is Van Damme, and which one is Dolph. I have no freaking idea. One moment I’d be like, yeah that’s Dolph, then the next second it’ll be, no wait.

Normally, I’d take the MRT to work, but this morning, the line was just royally confusing and no one was allowed in (probably because the platform’s already full). I was late anyway, so I decided to take the bus and take my chances with EDSA. EDSA really isn’t so horrible at around 10-ish in the morning, because all decent employees already punched in by then. Only lazy employed losers like me wind up on a bus watching Dolph at 10 in the morning.

And by the way, Tia Carrere sucked. I don’t think I can describe the face she made while “in the throes of passion”. And maybe I don’t want to.

There are triad movies, and then there are triad movies.

I’ve always been a fan of blood and gore in action movies. I think the obsession sort of started when I was around seven years old, when my parents would rent betamax (yeah, I just dated myself) tapes of Jet Li and Jackie Chan kicking ass. The homoerotic gun battles of Chow Yun-fat would come much later but eventually become much more influential than the kung-fu movies of my childhood.

People who have never heard of Mark Gor (Ma Ge or Brother Ma) might want to step away from this entry right now.

I have a rather un-girly aversion to romantic and dramatic movies, prefering the testosterone-fueled flicks detailing the lives of Hong Kong triads. I actually have the complete DVD set of the “Young and Dangerous” movies, as well as all three of the Infernal Affairs (Wu Jian Dao) trilogy.

It’s cheesy, over-the-top and the homoerotic undertones are undeniable. Welcome to the Hong Kong triad genre. The stories may diverge a bit, but it all really just boils down to brotherhood and righteousness. And swagger, too, by the way. Lots and lots of scowling and posturing and swaggering.

From the genre-defining (A Better Tomorrow, Hard Boiled, Killer) to the tragically bloody (Moment of Romance, Tragic Hero), I suppose I’ve seen nearly every triad movie I can get my hands on. There are disappointments, of course, like Ah Sao, which is really a stupid drama masquerading as a macho triad movie.

And then, of course, there are gems. I’m not talking about the Infernal Affairs series and the “undercover cop-vs.-triad” movies that appeared in its wake. There are more than a few brilliant triad movies, particularly in recent years, but there’s one that really stands out: Exiled.

Starring five of the island’s greatest triad genre actors (Anthony Wong, Francis Ng, Lam Suet，Nick Cheung and eternal triad baddie Roy Cheung), Exiled tells the story of five assassins — sworn brothers torn apart by a mission. I’m not going into details (I’m sure wikipedia is the place for that), but, well, let’s just say it’s the most beautiful triad movie of the century. With old-world Macau as its backdrop, Johnny To’s luscious cinematography captures the lawlessness and inescapable world of Jiang Hu, where good and bad don’t really matter so much. The first scene opens and you just know they’re all doomed to go down in a beautiful blaze of gunfire.

Inertia in the movie is palpable, with the protagonists held captive by indecision and a realization that there really was no way out. When the ninety minutes are up, there’s really just nothing left to say. Or maybe there is:

Johnny To, you are a god.

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Rant of the Day
a.k.a. “as if this post isn’t long enough”

Kim Chiu, according to the PDI, has released an album named “Gua Ai Di”. The album contains the song “Peng You” which she sang on TV (while inside the PBB house) and the Teresa Teng classic “Yue Liang Dai Biao Wo De Xin”, mistakenly billed as a song “traditionally” sung at weddings. First of all, we don’t have a song “traditionally” sung at weddings. Second, I get the point. She’s Chinese.

AND SO???

Finally caught the fifth Harry Potter movie. I was supposed to watch it with my cousin but had to beg off because I wasn’t quite ready to face the maddened throng eager to fill up every cinema seat. The back-up plan was to watch it with my siblings tomorrow, but my friend Mei asked me out on a movie date. I don’t get to spend as much time with her as I would like to, so how could I say no?

Besides, what’s wrong with watching a Harry Potter movie twice? Normally, I would be completely wary of watching any HP movie twice, considering the length and possible disappointment it could cause. This movie, though, could be the best HP movie yet.

I didn’t exactly like the book version. I thought it was a little too depressing. The movie, though, ends on a rather high note. There seems to be a hint that Sirius will be back for the finale. Not bad, considering I like Sirius immensely.

The movie was absolutely captivating. Bloody brilliant.

Dolores Umbridge, by the way, was totally off the charts. Seriously. And oh, Helena Bonham-Carter rocked, too, in a horribly creepy way. The “Tim Burton” tag is unbelievably well-deserved. Not much of Malfoy this time, but I didn’t really mind. The kid’s growing waay too fast.

Speaking of too fast, In some scenes, when Harry’s wearing some tight-fitted shirt, you can see how his physique *ahem* has improved vastly. Ron is still Ron and Hermione is still Hermione. The real revelation is Luna Lovegood, who seems a little too kooky to not be kooky in real life. Either way, she’s really good.

That said, I suppose it’s finally my chance to rant on cinema etiquette:
Moms and dads, when watching a movie like Harry Potter, please please please hire a babysitter and leave the freaking kids home. Harry Potter is not a children’s movie, whatever other clueless people say. It is dark and rather intelligent, so keep your kids at home with Barney or something a lot more gay. If you insist on bringing your kids with you, I beg you to have Ritalin in your purse so you can dope up your kid when he/she starts to get a little too rowdy.

Our viewing experience was so horribly interrupted by occasional screams from a brat named Angelene and some other guy kid who kept running and skipping and crawling in front of us. I swear it took every ounce of our strength to keep ourselves from strangling the kids.

The adults weren’t any better, by the way, with the woman beside Mei belching every few minutes. The couple beside me, on the other hand, kept discussing matters that had absolutely nothing to do with the film. Not that talking about the film would have been better, but it would at least have been a little more logical, right?

I’m thinking about having mace with me the next time I go to the movies. Or sleeping pills.

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In other news, I just bought meself a pretty guitar. It is horrendously cheap, but I love it. It’s black and it makes me look like a decent guitar player, at the very least. I’m currently obsessed with guitar-playing, though I can only play one song at the moment: Whole Wide World by Wreckless Eric.

I was inspired by Will Ferrell’s guitar playing scene in Stranger than Fiction, but no, I’m not doing this to get someone to make out with me. I’m sticking to two chord songs at the moment, though I do hope to play some decent stuff in the future.

Pray for me

The last few days have been a bit of a haze, thanks to the immense pain irregularly shooting out of my wisdom teeth. Yes, I said teeth. The one on the upper right is rotten beyond redemption, while the one on the lower left is impacted and threatening to destroy both my gums and the poor tooth beside it.

Both have been hard at work keeping me wincing in pain every single second of every goddamn day, which, of course, gave me the rare excuse to gorge on amoxicillin and a bevy of painkillers. Thanks to this medical cocktail, I’ve been pretty much not myself lately, alternating between cheerfulness and catatonia.

I’m high.

At the very least I have The Doors to keep me company during this highly unsober state, with Jim exhorting me (I think) to “get higher”. Oh well, light my fire, I guess. In the span of 24 hours, I have come to the conclusion that the greatest rock song in the entire universe has to be “Changeling”, particularly when Jim Morrison belts out a raspy, “You gotta see me chaaaaaaaaaange…”.

I also decided that the Max Wineberg 7 will perform “Touch Me” for my wedding (the previous choice was “Baby I Love You” by The Ramones).

I did get to catch up on some movies, though:

Blades of Glory
It’s probably not going to be shown here, so go seek out your suking pirata for a copy.
“We’re going to skate to one song and one song only: what you gonna do with all that junk, all that junk inside that trunk?”

Ang Pagdadalaga ni Maximo Oliveros
I finally got to see Kuya Bogs. And I’m in love again. It could be the alaxan talking, but Marian, hingi mo ko autograph!!

Because I Said So
Not as good as I hoped it would be, and I’m starting to believe Diane Keaton is a psycho in real life (just like Jack Nicholson). The musician was pretty cute, though. A bit awkward, if not completely poorly written. But as I said, the musician was pretty cute.

Stranger than Fiction
Unlike the other Will Ferrell starrers, Stranger than Fiction isn’t exactly a laugh riot. It’s funny, though, and a bit sweet. I have this thing for geeks (not exactly rooting for Mr. Suave), and Will Ferrell’s pathetic corporate drone’s attempts at romance completely swept me off my feet. I’m pretty sure my heart jumped a few notches when Will Ferrell sang “Whole Wide World” (by Wreckless Eric). And oh, I can’t bake, but I want flours, too.

And yeah, I’m still pretty stoned.

I finally finished all three seasons of House, thanks to two weeks of numbing boredom and a very lenient boss. I’ve gone on to stalking Hugh Laurie on YouTube, downloading some (alright, alright … all) of his SNL clips just to satiate my growing addiction to his celluloid presence.

His British accent sounds a bit weird to me, like the words aren’t really coming out of his mouth but from Charles’ butler’s. Hearing him speak all-American English on House must’ve really gotten to me. His SNL clips were fun, not because SNL is hilarious, but because Hugh’s in them. Watching Hugh labor through a rather unfunny sketch as Kenan Thompson’s wife would’ve been unbearable had he not been wearing a tight miniskirt that showcased his wonderful legs.

Another wondrous find that I can’t stop watching over and over and over: Conan O’Brien being diagnosed by House (Emmys sketch):

“Subject is pale…possibly albino. Age, 92. Or 12.”

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Finally got my flaking hands on the Rolling Stone issue featuring Johnny Depp and Keith Richards (insert scream+crazy grin here), thanks to my wonderful friend and officemate, who shall remain anonymous behind the monicker, “Spam”. God bless you. Mwah mwah mwah!!!

The cover will be framed, after I’m done worshipping it, of course.

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Caught Zsa Zsa Zaturnnah Ze Muzical this afternoon. K Brosas is wonderful as the powerful she-male, but I must admit her sidekick Deedee stole the show. Backflipping and cartwheeling all over the stage, the potty-mouthed Deedee truly elicited the most laughs from everyone in the audience. Didn’t care much for Dodong, though, who was there mostly to serve as meat for the gay hounds.

The musical score sucked in romantic/dramatic scenes, or maybe it’s just my hard-wired aversion to anything that required emotional intelligence. In any case, I spent most of the 3 hours laughing my head off at nearly every line.

Maybe I should have had my picture taken with Deedee.

“Derderng, hirndi ker alerm, mahirlig ker perle ser serbong? Iter nger perle frernd ker oh, si Zserzser.”

Figure it out.

So the third installment of Pirates didn’t really disappoint, but it didn’t quite hit the spot, either. You could probably blame it on the fact that I had only two hours of sleep the night before, or that the SM seats are horribly uncomfortable, but I didn’t really think Pirates deserved the nearly three hours it cranked out.

The movie would’ve been a whole lot better if Chow Yun-fat had stabbed Orlando Bloom to death early on. Maybe then the movie would’ve gone a lot more smoothly. If you thought the first two movies lacked narrative direction, you’ll probably lose your mind watching this third installment. There are a million and one traitors in this movie (Ruffa not included), a dozen deals and double-deals that I frankly don’t find significant. Nobody ever makes good on a deal in these movies anyway.

In the first two movies, the only really good-for-nothing, pirate-to-the-core character was the amoral Jack Sparrow. In this third leg, though, everybody’s out to get everybody else, under the guise of doing “good business”. People who keep saying, “good business”, though, end up dead.

I’m no fan of Orlando, I like Keira Knightley well enough and Geoffrey Rush is entertaining as hell, but they might as well have chucked every other scene that didn’t have Johnny Depp. As usual, Captain Jack Sparrow runs away with every scene, except maybe the one he shared with rock god Keith Richards.

Speaking of Keith, the man looks like he WAS born a pirate. He looked very much drunk, which is, of course, to be expected. Plus he played a bit of the guitar during his brief cameo but my sluggish brain failed to identify the song.

The movie hinted on a 4th installment, which I’m sure Disney will cash in on yet again. Flog a horse till it’s dead, then flog it again (with a “tribute” or something). Will I watch it? If it still has Johnny, I probably will.

Best scene:
How’s mum?
(Keith Richards raises a dried up human head tied to his hand)
She looks great!

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*Update!!!*
German Moreno Sighting No. 4
Location: Pilita’s, Theater Mall, Greenhills
Date: 3 June 2007
Time: 4:30PM