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1. Harrison Ford is old; action scenes will require suspension of disbelief.
Issue addressed directly; his age constantly alluded to.

2. Remember how much you looked forward to seeing Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, and how betrayed you felt afterwards. George Lucas trampled on your childhood myths to sell Jar-Jar Binks action figures! He can do it again, and probably will.
Massive relief! It doesn’t suck! It was fun!

3. What was the last Steven Spielberg movie you really enjoyed?
This one, and it has little references to his best work!

4. Only one Indy 4 trailer has been running in movie theatres, and it shows mostly bits from the first three movies. Could be they’re keeping the story secret, could be there’s nothing to show.
It’s the same silliness, and we’re happy!

5. Nothing will bring back the day you sat in a darkened theatre watching Raiders of the Lost Ark and clapping just because Indy’s plane flew over the Philippines on a map. Your childhood is over, no matter how immature you are.
Theme park ride!

6. Is John Rhys-Davies in it? Sean Connery? Good thing we like Shia LaBeouf — just bearing that name requires moxie.
Shia enters movie in hommage to Brando in The Wild Ones—only mildly embarrassing. Cate Blanchett rules as evil Russian dominatrix.
Chus: (clapping) High camp!
Ige: (clapping) Celia Rodriguez!
Me: (clapping) She looks like Professor Wilhelmina Ramas my Shakespeare teacher!

Pinoy sighting: Former ninja turtle Ernie Reyes Jr as Mayan warrior.

As I type this the Web is filling up with reviews of the “I’m so much better than you, Spielberg and your plebeian fans who inhale this commercial swill” variety. Or serious appraisals of something that’s supposed to be silly. Here’s one that gets our attachment to Indy.

Best post-movie activity: Eat at Pepper Lunch in Rockwell! Have the cut steak and hamburger combo or the beef pepper rice, they’re brilliant.

We saw Harold and Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay. For a stoner comedy they don’t get stoned much, so it is not as absurd and surreal as we’d expected. In fact it is almost rational, which is disturbing.

During our post-movie snack we saw Judy Ann Santos and Dante Nico Garcia, the star and director of Ploning. They came over to say hi and thanks for the blog post. The great thing about Juday is that she’s a big star who comes across as a genuine human being. She looked good, svelte, minimal make-up, casual attire. I forgot to take a picture.

Are nerds born or are they made? Now that geeks rule tech companies, lead billionaire lists, and are the auteurs, subjects and stars of Judd Apatow movies, has it become cool to be a nerd? Even people who must’ve been popular in high school now claim that they were nerds. If everyone was a teenage outcast, then who cast them out?

I do not like these belated claims of membership in the tribe.

Here’s an interview with Benjamin Nugent, author of American Nerd.

Panchito (not his real name) and his six-year-old son boarded the elevator in their building. There were two other passengers on the lift: a middle-aged Australian and his young Filipina wife. The Australian was a friendly sort–he looked at Panchito’s son and boomed, “Hello! How old are you?”

“I’m six,” the little boy replied.

“You’re too big to be a six-year-old!” the friendly Australian said.

“You’re too old to have a yaya (nanny),” the little boy said.

Panchito was unable to take note of the Australian’s reaction, or that of his wife. He was too busy looking for an elevator shaft he could throw himself into.

A.O. Scott covering the Cannes filmfest in the New York Times: “Toward the end of Brillante Mendoza’s “Serbis,” the patrons of a dilapidated Manila adult-movie palace are surprised to discover that a goat has wandered in from the street, partly obstructing their view of the naked bodies on screen. The animal’s sudden appearance — which sets off one of several chaotic, hilarious chases in this rambunctious, noisy film — might be taken as a symbol. The cinema can be a place of fantasy and sometimes disreputable pleasure, but reality, as stubborn and hard to corral as that goat, has a way of intruding whether we like it or not. . .”

I’ve read a couple of awful reviews of Serbis, one calling it this year’s Brown Bunny, but the thing to remember is: they’re not ignoring it.

Kermit the Cat, originally uploaded by 160507.

Things I knew about James Blunt before yesterday:
1. If you hear his hit song 200 times in a row, you fly into a murderous rage.
2. He briefly dated the model Petra Nemcova who appears on the billboards of a local clothing brand.
3. He served in the British army and was in the UN peacekeeping force in Kosovo.

Things I learned about Blunt from Kermit, one of his first fans in Manila.
1. His accent was considered too posh by British record labels.
2. The original spelling of his name is “Blount”.
3. One of his ancestors was a mistress of Henry VIII and his family has been the keepers of some lighthouse for 14 generations.
4. He was voted second most annoying pop star in Britain, after Paul McCartney.
5. Carrie Fisher was his landlady in Los Angeles.

Must ask Kermit if James is related to Anthony, who was the Keeper of the Queen’s Pictures and head of the Courthauldt Institute until he was unmasked as a Russian spy.

Things I learned after Kermit compelled us to watch James Blunt at Araneta Coliseum in the most vicious way possible (He bought us patron tickets, making it impossible to resist).
1. Blunt’s voice recalls the Bee Gees, which is not a bad thing.
2. He puts on a good, solid show that one can enjoy even if she knows exactly one Blunt song (the one that triggers murderous rage).
3. He seems very down-to-earth, does not whore himself out to the audience, or make cute patter. The concert was actually about the music.
4. The venue was half-full, but nearly everyone in it knew all of Blunt’s songs and sang them back to him.
5. All this talk of Kosovo makes me think I should’ve been a war correspondent. True, I don’t like discomfort and I demand a private bathroom, but I’m calm in a crisis plus I’ve read a lot of epics.

You need not have read a word of Patricia Highsmith to know that the name “Ripley” has come to mean “fraud”, “impostor”, “pretender”, anyone who pretends to be something he is not (And have we not all, at one time or another, done exactly that?), and on occasion, “murdering sociopath”. Andrew Cunanan was a Ripley–a man who faked his history, fooled a lot of people, went on a killing spree, and ensured his posthumous notoriety by killing an international celebrity.

Some years ago I attempted to use “Ripley” to describe a particularly inept individual who had risen to a position of influence by appealing to the gullible. I was immediately reprimanded by my friend Bernard-Henri Not Levy. “By calling him Ripley you not only insult Patricia Highsmith, but all who have adapted the Ripley novels for film, including Rene Clement, Alain Delon. . .”

“You’re right,” I said, “It flatters the clueless twit.”

“Lilliana Cavani, John Malkovich, Wim Wenders, Dennis Hopper. . .”

“Yes, I was wrong.”

“Anthony Minghella, Matt Damon, and Alfred Hitchcock as well, since Strangers On A Train was based on a Highsmith. . .”

“Alright, alright, I’ll call him Wipley.”

Recently I read an old profile by Alva Johnston about a famous Ripley, a man raised in New York City orphanages who managed to convince the American upper-class that he’d attended Eton, Oxford, Cambridge, Heidelberg, Yale, Harvard, and Princeton. He claimed to be first cousin or half-brother to the last Czar of Russia, and the son of the man–or the man himself–who killed Rasputin. He conned a lot of people, but was so charming and amusing that they not only forgave him, they gave him more money. During lean seasons, as he waited for the latest newspaper exposes to be forgotten, he would do menial jobs, stow away on trains and ocean liners, sleep in subways. He was arrested many times for writing bad cheques, but never did much jail time, and in any case the wardens and prisoners would treat him like royalty. He went by the name of Prince Michael Alexandrovitch Dmitry Obolensky Romanoff, and he discovered that people wanted to be fooled.

1. Not just an excellent match between Nadal and Djokovic, but a great display of cojones from both players. Best match of the season so far. Rafa beat Djokovic 7-5, 2-6, 6-2, but he had to throw everything he had at Djoker to win that last game. Djoker cut out the nonsense and played ballsy tennis. What does he do when facing match point? Make drop shots. Ostensibly they were battling for the number 2 ranking, but the match was really about who succeeds The Fed when the time comes. Rafa’s been waiting in the wings for three years, that’s too long. Now here comes a guy whose backhand seems to manage Rafa’s forehand of death. Suddenly the clay season is actually exciting.

2. Nerve-wracking Hamburg final between Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal. Nadal wins, 7-5, 6-7(3), 6-3. Roger storms to 5-1 in the first set, then Rafa catches up. And goes on to win the first set, 7-5. I’d say “inconceivable”, except that we’ve seen this happen before, most recently at the Monte Carlo final. (Remember Roland Garros two years ago?) Roger takes the early lead, Rafa catches up, then you can see the spirit leaving Roger’s body (Note the posture). Yes, Nadal is the best player on clay, but it looks like Roger’s problem is psychological. Still, Fed went to the net more, and made some bizarre errors while he was at it, but this is a tactic that could pay off.

Incidentally, Fed fans, have you noticed how much we like Rafa now that Djokovic is posing a threat? At the French Open, I’m going to root for. . .Richard Gasquet.

I skipped the tennis news for a few days, so when I read that Justine Henin had retired, I thought it was from a match. Turns out she’s retired from professional tennis. She said she didn’t feel like it anymore, and now she’s going to get a life. First woman to quit at number one. Maria Sharapova takes over the top spot on the women’s tour, and she has true grit and power, but not Henin’s arsenal of shots. We’re going to miss that beautiful backhand. And the gravitas. While everyone around her was trying to break into modelling or fashion design or acting, she was there for the tennis.

James Martin on Justine Henin’s retirement: “The WTA tour loves to promote its eye-candy but the real eye-candy for tennis aficionados has always been Henin’s smooth and stylish game. On a tour dominated by monotonous power tennis, Henin showed there was still a place for volleys rather than swing volleys, and slice backhands rather than two-handed drives. Amelie Mauresmo has a similarly beautiful, if less effectively powerful, game, but she is fading quickly and may not be too far from retirement herself. Martina Hingis, a cagey counter-puncher—gone. Ivanovic hits a clean ball that appeals to purists, yet she’s still in the mold of the “Big Babe Tennis” popularized by Jennifer Capriati and Monica Seles. Women’s tennis may have a surplus of pretty faces, but it’s just lost one of the prettiest games ever.“

James Reyes fashion show. May 20 & 22, 4pm, Shangri-La Makati., originally uploaded by 160507.

I’d been hearing a lot about the Gossip Girl novels, so I tried reading one. Yikes, this is what young girls are reading now, and to think we were thrilled every time Nancy Drew held hands with Ned Nickerson. And Nancy was 18, the legal age. The first Gossip Girl novel was so cruel, I read another one. Now I think it’s brilliant, the way the much-maligned American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis was brilliant. No, I haven’t seen the TV series, and I’m told it is to the Cecily von Ziegesar books as Wal Mart is to Takashimaya. True, 95% of movie/TV adaptations are to their literary sources as Wal Mart is to Takashimaya, and I know some GG-TV addicts.

No Country For Young Women in Emotional Weather Report, today in the Star.

I haven’t seen Speed Racer yet–the trailer alone looks like it might induce seizures in the audience–but it’s on my calendar, along with Harold and Kumar, and Robin and Ai-Ai. A friend of mine has seen Speed Racer, and his review goes like this: “Beautiful colors! Best colors of any recent movie!” When I asked about plot, direction, etc, he said, “This ensaladang talong is excellent!” You know that long-standing rumor that one of the Wachowski Brothers is now a woman?
By the way, I saw Deception and Ploning. Deception is inept and leaden. I’m guessing the producers are friends with the stars or their management, because how else could tenth-rate Hitchcock draw MacGregor and Jackman (Charlotte Rampling appears)? It’s supposed to be set in Manhattan, and every other movie seems to be set in Manhattan, but this one doesn’t even look like Manhattan. Don’t these people watch the many Law and Orders?

Ploning has some structural/expository problems–I call it Babel-ness–and my eyeballs started rolling every time I heard an aphorism uttered in the course of cracking cashews–but it’s far more interesting than the tripe the studios have been serving up this year. Ploning feels authentic. It valiantly sticks to the laid-back, contemplative pace of its location and true subject, Cuyo in Palawan, and it takes a genuine interest in the lives of its many characters–they’re people, not plot devices. I like the way the director Dante Nico Garcia cast non-actors in major roles, alongside stars like Judy Ann Santos and Mylene Dizon. Ploning is a movie about love, not the hackneyed romantic stuff, but the real, recognizable kind–among friends, family, and members of a community. Watch it, if it’s still on.

Now Showing, originally uploaded by 160507.

Un film de Raya Martin
Jeudi 22 mai
14h00
Théâtre Croisette (50 La Croisette, Cannes)

The film is nearly five hours long, so wear padded trousers. And if you hear the other viewers say “Raya Mahrtaahnh,” tell them, “It’s Mar-TEEN.”

Who is singing the role of Imelda Marcos in the album of David Byrne’s musical Here Lies Love?

Cyndi Lauper.

Brilliant choice. Cause girls just wanna have fun, and couture, and jewelry, and buildings…

The account in David Byrne’s journal: “Cyndi Lauper came in to the studio last week to sing 1½ songs for the Here Lies Love album. She was about an hour and a half late to the session, so I fully expected to be in for some prime diva behavior. But, as I’d run overtime on the earlier brass sessions, it all worked out great, and Cyndi gave an amazingly fine-tuned performance. Not only is she a wonderful singer from a technical point of view, but she can tailor her attitude and performance to suit the character and the character’s emotional state.

“This is exactly the skill set I need for this project. After giving Cyndi the back-story on a particular song and establishing the context of the lyrics, I would give directions like, “Yes, she’s a little angry, but also heartbroken and confused.” Cyndi would then incorporate these complex emotions into her performance with seeming ease. She’d ask, for example, “You want more anger in this verse?” And sure enough, she’d dial a little more in. Very impressive.”

Thanks to the LUA for the link.