Gangs of Wasseypur. The vicious cycle of violence, ambition and love in this sprawling, masterfully told epic! What an end to the Sydney Film Festival.
I’ve sat through way too many two hour films that have been an absolute drag. Gruelling, tiring affairs that have made me weary and wary of long runtimes. This was five and a half hours of cinema, and it felt effortless to watch. That is really saying something about the pacing, storytelling, direction and characters.
Amour. Unconditional, heart-breaking love, and all that it means. Filled with a million delicate moments.
I need to watch this again. With a notepad. There were so many damn good scenes in Amour, and having seen it literally half an hour ago, my caffeine-filled head is racing, trying to piece it all back together.
The first moment Anne is brought back home in the wheelchair, and Georges has to wheel her in to the living room. The subtle awkwardness that comes with having to ask “Where do you want me to take you?” for the first time. Picking her up delicately, moving her inch by inch towards the chair. The momentary relief.
The Law in These Parts. The disgusting actions and absurd double standards of the Israeli Supreme Court and military judges in the laws and rulings handed down over the last 40 years in Occupied Territories.
Making it all the worse is the staunch defense the retired judges that are the subjects of this documentary still put forward. As far as they were concerned, the form of justice they were serving was to make sure whatever the military needed to happen, happened. No authority figure in the Israel army was ever questioned, and each judge took the word of the army as absolute truth, while discounting the Palestinians at every opportunity, because they were the “enemy”. This was the system they were a part of, and a system they could break free of.
Beasts of the Southern Wild. Exhilarating. Powerful. Evocative. Two insane central performances.
This is so different to anything I’ve seen, and the film did not lose my attention for a second the whole way through. I can’t remember the last time I’ve experienced that.
Quvenzhane Wallis, as our six year old hero, Hushpuppy, is astonishing. I can’t find anything to confirm her real age, but it looks like she was actually six at the time of shooting this. How she was able to give the performance she did is beyond me. The fierceness in her face and eyes during many an exchange with her father, Wink, is something that will stay with me for a long time.
Searching for Sugar Man. A man getting paid his dues 20 years later in the most magical of ways. Simply remarkable!
A musician lighting himself on fire while on stage, committing suicide in the most horrific of ways. A fan’s recollection is how Searching for Sugar Man starts.
What a story.
Sixto Diaz Rodriguez AKA Rodriguez writing and performing his poetic, grim observations of the working class and their unfair treatment in Detroit, circa mid-1970s. The hopes and dreams of being signed to a label, with Bob Dylan comparisons. A gig gone bad and the unpredictable music industry in the U.S. not paying an announce of attention. Dead in America, metaphorically, and literally, to those in South Africa, where he was kind of a big deal!
Commonwealth Bank are piloting their NetBank Vault app on Android. I got to try it this weekend.
Oh, what is it?
It’s a secure online storage service where you can upload, organise and manage all of your files and documents. Think of it like a personal virtual safe deposit box; store receipts, payslips, photos, you get the idea.
I’ve become a heavy Dropbox user lately, and I’m using Google Drive too, for the extra storage space. They’re both pretty similar in their functionality, and both their Android apps are slick.
tl;dr Vault has a long way to go.
The labels above the fields really aren’t needed, and unnecessarily clutter the screen. Tumblr and Pocket are two examples of apps I’ve seen recently that do it cleanly.
What a day. I have never been as in love with New York as I am right now. It’s my third visit in three years, but today won’t be topped.
It started with a walk through the NYU campus on West 4th Street and into the magical Washington Square Park. A park packed with locals, tourists, squirrels, dogs, wiry trees, chess masters and a grand arch. You can sit there and take it all in for hours on end, being at complete peace with the world.
Continue on West 4th Street and the West Village awaits. Walking through the West Village and its tiny, exquisite cafes, zig-zaggy staircased apartments and archway of blossoming trees made me want to live there instantly.
Let’s be clear on this, I love Grooveshark. I have professed my love several times on this blog, and I’ve championed it to the extent that quite a few people have signed up and paid for the yearly membership [SORRY]. The promise of Grooveshark was to give me easy access to the music I love, anytime, anywhere. This has been broken lately.
Duplicates of songs and albums, incomplete listings and ID3 information. I noticed these blemishes long ago, but hey, no one’s perfect, and the relationship had way more ups than downs; platform independence, access anywhere, and a shared collection of music. Its ease of use was unparalleled, and it wasn’t that much of a stretch to cobble an album or playlist together.
Grooveshark has always skirted a legal grey area, but as of late, their legal woes have caught up with them. All four major record labels are suing them, and its outright blocked in Germany, last I heard. I haven’t bothered reading up on whatever other troubles they’re in.
And then songs started disappearing.
What a strange, delightful feeling it is returning somewhere that’s so familiar, but so different at the same time. Hell, even the name of the darn city’s changed; “Bengaluru” just doesn’t sound right. Yet.
Clearing customs and what not at the airport was surprisingly quick, calm and organised. Step out the door of the airport though, and the chaos and cacophony of Bangalore greets you warmly!
Sigh. I was rather enjoying my Monday until I read this infuriating piece by Alexia Tsotsis over on TechCrunch – I’d Rather Watch Instagram Than A Movie.
The basis of the comparison? Attention. The basis of the preference? Simplicity and relatability.
The appeal of Instagram is, for lack of a better word, simple; the world is moving too damn fast and we don’t want the cognitive load of figuring out what we’re looking at — we just want to see simple pretty things. This simplicity is what makes services like Instagram, Twitter and Pinterest a joy versus other entertainment offerings.
The truth is that on any given day, I’d rather check in on Instagram then watch a movie.
Call me a snob, but I feel sorry for the simple mind that can equate one form of attention to another so easily, and put it down to “killing time”. It is total underappreciation for film as an artform.
c0up 