At first I thought, “how interesting, two dragonflies piggybacking.” Not until I got home and loaded my photos did I realize what sort of sequence I’d shot:
Definitely more affective than just practising for the Cirque du Soleil:
Love is in the air, can it be more obvious?
Saturday Snapshot is hosted by West Metro Mommy Reads. CLICK HERE to see what others have posted.
***
Photos on this post taken by Arti of Ripple Effects, July 2014.
Do Not Copy or Reblog
My first entry for the Paris In July 2014 blogging event is a review of the 2012 French film Haute Cuisine (original name Les Saveurs du Palais, which can be translated as ‘The Taste of the Palace’ or ‘The Taste of the Palate’)
***
The film begins with scenes on the remote Crozet Island in Antarctica, at the Alfred Faure Scientific Base. The cook, Hortense Laborie (Catherine Frot), is preparing dinner for the dozens of workers there. It’s a special occasion, her own farewell dinner. This is the menu she has prepared:
Not your ordinary cafeteria food for workers in Antarctica, but then, Hortense Laborie is no ordinary cook. If her one year gig working on the Crozet island sounds extraordinary, it is yet not as remarkable when compared to her previous job. Hortense was the personal chef of the French president (Jean d’Ormesson) for two years before she quit and sought a change in venue for her talents. Her kitchen used to be in the Élysée Palace in Paris, the official residence of the French President.
Haute Cuisine is a movie based on the real-life story of Danièle Delpeuch, a Périgord farmer and renowned country cook appointed by the Palace Élysée to be the personal chef for French President François Mitterrand in 1988. She was responsible for preparing home-made, simple cooking for the President’s own private meals and his personal guests.
In the movie, as soon as she stepped into the Palace’s Main Kitchen Hortense knows what she is up against: a macho army of 24 all-male chefs who guard their territory like a castle. They serve 70,000 meals in a year, using some of the copper pots and pans dating back to Louis-Phillippe’s days. Hortense does not work right in that kitchen, but that is her source of supplies and ingredients (initially), and the battlefield for territory and sphere of culinary power and influence. The battle begins as soon as she steps on this holy ground.
Hortense works in a small, homely kitchen joined by a tunnel with the Main Kitchen. Her helper is a young pastry chef Nicholas Bauvois (Arthur Dupont). The two form an unlikely alliance and share an endearing camaraderie. Frot’s portrayal of Hortense is most amiable. She is not a harsh boss over Nicholas, but she can stand her ground and be assertive in front of the Main Kitchen chefs, and even with the President’s staff. Hortense is an iron fist inside an elegant, velvet glove.
So from the kitchen in Antarctica to Paris, the film goes back and forth to tell the story of Hortense, how she gets the Palace job and why she quits two years later. The shifting between the two time frames are smooth and seamless. With the two drastically different settings juxtaposed against each other, viewers can savour the irony: That the exquisite culinary skills and fine art of Hortense’ cooking are more appreciated by the Crozet Island workers than the Palace Élysée.
A delightful movie not just for foodies, Haute Cuisine is like a layer cake, blending multiple tastes together by tackling various issues of contention… the battle between the sexes in the work place (the kitchen is probably the most volatile), efficiency in meal preparation vs. passion for cooking, and, the dilemma of all food lovers: gratification or health (no sauces, fats, or cheeses? How can that be in French cuisine?)
A well crafted film that moves as efficiently as an experienced server, removing your empty plate as soon as the food is consumed, quietly slips in the next item for you to enjoy without a break. Yes, it’s relatively fast-paced, lean and fat-free with no wastage; to top it all off, the delightful, well-timed and orchestrated music composed by the prolific Gabriel Yared is like the light cream on the Saint-Honoré cake.
The President deeply appreciates Hortense’s home-grown culinary offerings. Her ingredients are locally grown right from the Palace garden,or nearby markets, or from her own farm, yes, truffles too. The tastes remind him of home when he was growing up as a boy. He has found a foodie soul-mate in Hortense. Here’s her first meal for him and his five guests (with two hours’ notice as to the number of guests):
But I personally like this one the best:
A virtual meal, so delicious and satisfying… and best of all, fat-free.
~ ~ ~ Ripples
***
This is my first post for the blogging event Paris in July, 2014.
This year the hosting team has expanded to four. From the original creators Karen and Tamara, we now have Adria and Bellezza. Thanks to their time and dedication, we can travel to France on a virtual flight, no need for tickets, no baggages to drag along.
Also discovered another similar blogging event and that’s a Monday Meme Dreaming of France from Paulita’s An Accidental Blog. The more the merrier I’d say.
***
Click Here to the New York Times’s profile of Danièle Delpeuch, the real-life personality on whom the movie is based.
Other Food Related Posts on Ripple Effects, coincidentally, all Paris-related:
Gourmet Rhapsody by Muriel Barbery
The Hundred-Foot Journey by Richard C. Morais (movie adaptation coming out in August, 2014)
***
Six summers ago, I stayed in an isolated log home for a few weeks in Cochrane, Alberta. That was before I’d acquired my iPhone, Nikon, and birding interest. A few days ago I drove back there and revisited the place.
Funny how I was seeing everything from a birder’s POV this time. I brought my camera with me and purposely look for any flying objects, identified or not. I saw this flash of blue fly by, too fast for a focused picture:
Later the blue landed on a tree top. Here’s a slightly clearer view:
Not until I got home and uploaded the photos did I have the chance to find out what bird it was. With a snack in his beak, here’s looking at you, kid. The Mountain Bluebird:
Another view, astounding colour:
Alas, Nature has not endowed the female with as much colour, yet in my eyes, she is an equal beauty (a commenter explained this is a juvenile… an equal cutie):
A flash of blue, a place to land, a bug for snack, a good day.
Saturday Snapshot is hosted by West Metro Mommy Reads. CLICK HERE to see what others have posted.
***
ALL PHOTOS TAKEN BY ARTI OF RIPPLE EFFECTS, JUNE 30, 2014.
DO NOT COPY OR REBLOG.
***
If you had not visited Ripple Effects six years ago, here are some older posts on my log home experience:
This review is about the acclaimed Polish-born director Pawel Pawlikowski’s newest film Ida (2013). It was screened at TIFF 2013, and since then, at numerous other film festivals. Slowly, it has arrived at the big screens in our cities recently. The following post discusses crucial thematic elements. Therefore, spoiler warning.
***
What forms one’s identity? Is it nationality? Race and ethnicity? Or something that transcends these boundaries? And, does one have a choice?
At the beginning, Anna’s (Agata Trzebuchowska) Catholicism is chosen for her. Raised in a Polish convent as an orphan, Anna knows no other kind of life. As an 18 year-old novitiate on the verge of taking her vow to become a nun, her Mother Superior tells her she should meet her closest relative. The one living relative she has is her mother’s sister, her aunt Wanda (Agata Kulesza).
Wanda is a hard-drinking, life-weary and tormented soul. Having lived through the horror of the second world war, she is confronted by yet another formidable front in post-war Poland, Soviet Communism. As a state prosecutor and later a judge, Wanda survived by compromising with the oppressive regime. She rises to a respectable position while sending many to their doom.
Poland in the 1960’s saw the beginning of wavering in hardline communism, a loosening up in society. Wanda has now become disillusioned and cynical, immersing in alcohol and one-night stands. With Anna appearing at her doorstep, she has to confront with not only a family’s dreadful past but her own existential present. Her licentious lifestyle is a sharp contrast to Anna’s spiritual devotion. A foil of the sacred and the profane, but not in a dogmatic frame. We see the two learning to appreciate and understand each other in a poignant way.
For Anna, coming out of the convent does not mean only an eye-opener of the real world. From her aunt, she learns that her real name is Ida Lebenstein, and she is a Jew. Her parents were murdered during the Nazi occupation of Poland. She was kept safe in the shelter of the Catholic nuns. Her lineage concealed. Now Anna/Ida has to face with a seemingly incompatible identity, as her aunt bluntly puts it, ‘a Jewish nun’.
Aunt and niece go on a road trip to seek out the graves of Ida’s parents and eventually discover more about their deaths. They begin to know each other in a deeper way. The knowledge and the experience they have with each other may be life affirming for Ida; unfortunately for Wanda, they lead to despair.
While on the road, Wanda picks up a hitch-hiker, a young jazz musician, saxophonist Lis (Dawid Ogrodnik). He opens up yet another window for Anna, that of jazz, Coltrane, and all the rest.
The 80-minute, visually inspiring film is shot in aesthetically stunning black and white cinematography, 1.37:1 Academy Ratio with a square frame; the medium is the message. Austere, minimal, suggestive of harsh, bygone days, and with human characters often in the bottom of the frame, small and insignificant compared to the vast landscape. What is human in the whole scheme of things? How does one define oneself?
The cinematography reminds me of Robert Bresson’s Diary of a Country Priest. The young priest comes into his first parish, dwarfed and intimidated by the burden of his task, the spiritual warfare for which he is unprepared:
Like Bresson, Pawlikowski uses a non-actor for a major role. Agata Trzebuchowska plays Ida. She has never acted before. Pawlikowski found her in a coffee shop. Her portrayal of Anna/Ida is hauntingly authentic. Her face is pristine, yet her gaze is wise beyond her looks. Her aloof expression offers an unspoken evaluation of the world she sees, both in and out of the convent’s walls.
After a pivotal event, Ida tries on her aunt’s dresses, her high heels, smokes her cigarette and imagines another life. In this elegant attire she dances with the Jazz musician Lis. She listens to him play Coltrane on his sax. A whole new world awaits her if she so chooses. But it only entices for a short while. Ida yearns for something deeper, more meaningful. “And then?” she asks Lis several times in response to his offer of coming along with him.
Three characters, three different choices. Wanda chooses a way out that’s tragic.
The young musician Lis chooses jazz and whatever that path might take him. Despite his desire to have Ida come along with him, he does not, or maybe cannot, answer her two-word questions: “And then?” What’s the purpose, after all?
Ida chooses the transcendent over the secular, not that she judges the world, but that she yearns for meaning in the spiritual. It is not so much about choosing Catholicism over her Jewish lineage, but that she has made her own decision in becoming who she is. Ida’s choice is one that surpasses arbitrary, man-made boundaries of race and ethnicity, or the appeal of materials and pleasures; she chooses to devote to her Christ who had sacrificed all.
An image from the beginning of the film vividly comes back to my mind. Anna and three others carrying the Christ statue on their shoulders like a cross:
In the final shot we see Ida back in her habit attire. The moving camera captures a resolved and almost rejuvenated face, walking briskly with her little suitcase in hand, heading back to the convent. This place is now a personal choice.
~ ~ ~ 1/2 Ripples
***
Awards Update:
Feb. 22, 2015: Ida wins The Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film of the Year.
Feb. 21, 2015: Ida wins Best Foreign Language Film at the Independent Spirit Awards.
Feb. 8, 2015: Wins BAFTA Best Film not in the English Language
Jan. 15, 2015: 2 Oscar noms, Best Foreign Language Film, Best Cinematography
Dec. 11: Golden Globe nom for Best Foreign Language Film
Dec. 7: Ida wins Best Foreign Language Film and Agata Kulesza Best Supporting Actress at the L.A. Film Critics Awards
Dec. 1: Ida wins Best Foreign Language Film from the New York Film Critics Circle
Other posts you might like:
Nebraska: Colour Is Superfluous
The Art Gallery of Ontario, AGO, is a must-see whenever I visit Toronto. Not only because I’m a Frank Gehry fan who never gets tired of looking at the centre spiral staircase in there, but the exhibits are always intriguing and thought-provoking. Spent a few days in Toronto last week and this time, I was much gratified to view the current show at AGO: “Francis Bacon, Henry Moore: Terror and Beauty”.
Terror and Beauty, the motif resonates with the idea of Wabi-sabi. I’ve explored visually the notion of Wabi-sabi before. Two seemingly incompatible states juxtaposed against each other, beauty and sadness.
“You can’t be more horrific than life itself” says a quote from Francis Bacon on the AGO’s Artist page. The exhibits speak to that by extracting from the horrors of WWII and other forms of human sufferings and struggles depicted in the works of these two 20th century Irish/English artists who were contemporaries of each other.
The exhibit is a wealth of surrealist works from Bacon, and sculptures and drawings from Moore. But I was particularly captivated by the WWII items. While Moore is well-known for his abstract sculptures of the human body in larger than life poses, here’s a rare chance to see his more personal, wartime drawings.
Going home one evening in 1940, as he entered a London subway station, Moore discovered crowds of people sleeping on the platform to take shelter from an impending German air strike, the Blitz. He was taken aback by what he saw and his later drawing was a ghastly interpretation:
Photo Source: http://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/moore-tube-shelter-perspective-n05709
That’s Moore’s view of the underground subway station used as impromptu bomb shelter. But what was it really like in those tube stations? That’s when I was totally captivated by the photos of the renowned photojournalist Bill Brandt displayed alongside Moore’s shelter drawings.
Rather than horrific depictions, I was utterly surprised by the actual photographs by Brandt, who acted as official war photographer. His noir and darkened perspective is haunting and yet, full of mystique and beauty.
What I saw was an opposite interpretation of the subway scene: rather than terror, I saw resilience. Indeed, the London populace came out in droves to seek shelter in the subway, a much safer haven than their own homes. What I saw in many of Brandt’s photographs was the strong sense of ‘life goes on’.
Two photographs in the exhibition will forever remain in my mind.
First is the Liverpool Street Underground Station Shelter during an air raid in November, 1940. The photograph shows a family sleeping soundly, bedding against the grooves in between the steel structures of the tunnel. But look more carefully, there’s even a bunk and blanket for a doll beside the child. They all look peaceful and calm.
For the archive in my mind, let me call this photo: “The Doll in the Subway”
© IWM Non-Commercial License http://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/205194652?cat=photographs
The second picture by Brandt is in the Elephant and Castle London Underground Station Shelter. Here, people sleeping on the crowded platform while taking shelter from German air raids during the Blitz.
But look how they were dressed in. The mid-heel pump the woman in the foreground was wearing caught my attention. Looks like she was dressed for work. Blitz or no Blitz, after she woke in the morning, she had to go to work. Life as usual.
In my mental archive, this photo will now be entitled “The Mid-heel Pump”.
© IWM Non-Commercial License http://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/205194638
What more, after civilians had crowded into the subway stations against government’s advice, the officials had to respond with helpful measures by installing chemical toilets, first aid facilities, and providing drinks, while the people created their own entertainment. With all due respect to the victims of the Blitz, the resilience and adaptability of the Londoners are most inspiring.
After I stepped out of AGO, I wanted to go back in to take a more careful look at the exhibits again. But that was not feasible so I had to write this post from memory (no photos of the exhibits were allowed) and from some online digging. Glad to have found these two memorable images from the Imperial War Museum website. Thanks to AGO, these two historic photos will remain in my mental archive for a long, long time.
CLICK HERE to see 9 Incredible photos of the London Underground as Bomb Shelter.
***
Related Posts on Ripple Effects:
The Frank Gehry designed Art Gallery of Ontario
Sketches of Frank Gehry (2005)
Ever since I first read Annie Dillard, I’d wanted to see Puget Sound. But after all these years, I’ve been firmly rooted in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains in Alberta. My neck of the woods is a boreal forest. So, I’m more at home with spruce trees than sandy beaches. Puget Sound will have to remain on my bucket list.
All through winter, spruce and pines are sustenance, the bulwark and shelter for birds and small creatures that stay behind, and me.
After two days of spring rain, I ventured out just when it broke clear slightly, and was mesmerized by the greens. From among the hardy spruce, the aspens burst out to embrace spring.
The tall, slender trunks, each a natural canvas
Colours and textures wrapped around
and moss as paints.
Nature’s artwork
Moss or fungus? No matter. Here’s life
Monet in Nature
And I couldn’t resist the capture, even though just a common sparrow, obscure, blocked by a branch:
Nature’s Artist at work in Annie Dillard’s Puget Sound as well as my Boreal Forest. Her descriptions are strikingly close to what I had experienced.
“I see a hundred insects moving across the air, rising and falling. Chipped notes of birdsong descend from the trees, tuneful and broken; the notes pile about me like leaves.”
Despite geographical distances and variance in environs, her words resonate:
“Time and space are in touch with the Absolute at base.”
– Annie Dillard, Holy The Firm
***
Saturday Snapshot is hosted by Melinda of West Metro Mommy Reads. CLCIK HERE to see what others have posted.
Photos in this post taken by Arti of Ripple Effects
Do Not Copy or Reblog
***
Here’s another encounter of the ‘ordinary’ yet not so ordinary. A yellow bird is very common for those living in warmer climates. But for me, it’s a rare sighting. I was so excited to see something bright yellow moving among the branches. Can you spot it? 
A better view as I quietly got closer: 
but just for a short few seconds, and then it was gone, fleeing from a lone paparazzo: 
I followed the yellow bird from tree to tree for well over a half hour. I did not know what kind of bird it was; I did not much care. That would come later when I got home. At that moment, I was too preoccupied with fixing my eyes on it, to whatever perils may come. I was stalking high and low among last year’s flood debris of fallen trees along a damaged landscape, trying not to trip without looking down at my feet.
Finally, a clearing: 
Yellow, black and red contrasting fresh green leaves and a pale blue sky in the backdrop, a colourful picture.
Eventually, he seemed to appreciate my tenacity, and rewarded me with a couple of poses: 
Only after I’d uploaded my photos later and checked the features did I identify what bird it was: The Western Tanager. This one is a male in breeding season. “These birds live in open woods all over the West…” so says the Cornell Lab of Ornithology. They may be common, but this one is unique because it’s the only one I’ve seen. That makes it special for me.
***
Saturday Snapshot is hosted by West Metro Mommy Reads. Click Here to see what others have posted.
Photos in this post taken by Arti of Ripple Effects, 2014. Please DO NOT COPY or Reblog.
***
The Lunchbox premiered at Cannes last year. Since then, it had appeared in many other international film festivals, nabbing nominations and wins. I missed it at TIFF last September, so am glad I’ve the chance to watch it in the theatre recently. Here’s my review published in the May 18 issue of Asian American Press, a weekly newspaper based in Minneapolis, MN. That’s right, folks, it’s globalization.
***
The lunchbox, dabba, is a stackable unit of four or five round metal cans fastened by straps on the side that flip up to attach to a handle on top. Every day in Mumbai, India, five thousand dabbawallahs, or lunchbox deliverymen, would fetch the dabbas from homes after housewives have filled them with hot food and deliver the tiffin to their husbands in their offices. After lunch, they would return the empty dabbas back to each home.
In Mumbai alone, there are five thousands dabbawallahs, many of them illiterate. For one hundred and twenty years, they carry dozens of dabbas on their bicycles, negotiate the mass of humanity and impossible street traffic and railways to bring office workers a hot meal from home, or from dabba preparation outlets. Harvard University had studied their inexplicable coding and delivery system. Their finding: only one in a million of these dabbas would ever get lost.
If you think the title is too mundane for a movie, then just focus on that one-in-a million lost lunchbox. It is picked up from a young housewife, Ila (Nimrat Kaur), and delivered to the wrong recipient, Saajan Fernandes (Irrfan Khan, Life of Pi, 2012), a retiring office worker who has been on the job for thirty-five years. Thus begins the exchange of short notes then letters placed inside these tiffin cans, two strangers who are socially worlds apart, but joined together by a savory meal.
The veteran actor Irrfan Khan won Best Actor at the 8th Asian Film Awards in March this year for his role in The Lunchbox, adding to his several other wins for the film. His subtle and nuanced performance requires no dialogues. Indeed, both Saajan and Ila have not shared a frame together in the movie. I would not so much call this a romantic comedy as their relationship is purely platonic. The romance could well be the ideals and dreams they stir up in each other’s mind through the exchange of written notes. If there is anything comedic it comes as finding a listening ear, a slight relief from the mundane and inescapable in life.
It is interesting to watch how writer/director Ritesh Batra reveals to us the dabba as a metaphor. Like the stackable cans, the story is multi-layered. It touches on marriage, human connections, memories, and dreams. From the mass of humanity, we focus on two individuals striving to find meaning in their daily existence. Like the fastener that strap tight the cans of the dabba, Ila is caught in a loveless marriage with her husband Rajeev (Nakul Vaid), and the aging Saajan is bound by memories of his late wife.
The film begins with Ila’s attempt to make a delicious meal for her husband Rajeev to win back his heart through his stomach, an advice from an upstairs neighbor Ila calls Auntie (Bharati Achrekar). Ila communicates with Auntie by talking out of her kitchen window. Herein lies the subtle humor of the movie. We do not see Auntie, except just hear her voice. She is like an invisible adviser to Ila’s love life. Poignantly, Auntie herself has been taking care of her own husband, Uncle, who is bedridden and in a comatose state for fifteen years. If life is a bondage like the dabba, Auntie doesn’t show it a bit from her cheerful voice.
Ila’s delicious meals soon get through to the heart of Saajan, the mistaken recipient. Saajan lives alone, and seems to be heading straight to even more meaningless days in his retirement. The note exchanges gradually break through his isolation. Further, albeit reluctantly, he has to train his replacement at work, the young and enthusiastic Shaikh (Nawazuddin Siddiqui). Now this is one lively character that not only offers a humorous foil to the withdrawn Saajan, but like Auntie, Shaikh is optimistic about life, even though he has grown up an orphan. Soon, Shaikh has broken down the barrier with Saajan and the two establish a kind of father/son relationship.
With The Lunchbox, his debut feature, Batra has won several screenplay and directing awards. He is definitely one promising filmmaker to watch. His approach here is naturalistic. Shooting on location in Mumbai, the camera captures realistic, ethnographic street scenes and the mass on public transits, telling this Mumbai story in situ. Through the handwritten notes hidden in the mundane dabba, delivered by a traditional human service, the film vividly shows us that even in our day of emails and instant messaging, the route to connect is still through the human heart.
~ ~ ~ 1/2 Ripples
***
Related Movie Reviews on Ripple Effects:
Life of Pi (2012): The Magical 3D Experience
The Namesake (2006): Movie Review
***
I discovered a flock of Franklin’s Gulls a few weeks ago. Seeing the limited breeding area shown on the map, I consider myself privileged to be living right in this zone to welcome them.
I heard the calls of gulls from afar, even before i saw them. I admit I wasn’t too excited. My initial thought was, ‘just another bunch of ordinary seagulls’. When I got closer, I saw a huge flock, close to a hundred of them.
Only after I’d uploaded my photos to my laptop did I realize these were not ‘ordinary gulls’ (for us I suppose are the more common Ring-billed Gulls). At first, I could not tell what they were. I had to look up the detailed descriptions to identify them.
They were Franklin’s Gulls, breeding adults. Their black head and white crescent eyes make them look like they’re hooded. They look almost cartoonish, comical, everyone full of character.
Below their dark hood is a white neck, their wings dark gray. The trailing edge of the wing is white, wing tip black with white spots. Slender and handsome:
See the beak of the gull on the upper left. In the light, it’s translucent orangey-red:
Beautiful wings looking from the top:
completely snow-white from underneath:
See Jonathan Livingston Seagull soar above the crowd, gliding in solitude:
After learning about the Franklin’s Gulls, I found I didn’t know much about the ‘ordinary gulls’ either… maybe nothing is ordinary in Nature.
***
Saturday Snapshot is hosted by Melinda of West Metro Mommy Reads. CLICK HERE to see what others have posted.
ALL PHOTOS TAKEN BY ARTI OF RIPPLE EFFECTS.
DO NOT COPY OR REBLOG
***
Premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival last September, ‘The Railway Man’ has only recently made its way into North American theatres, a slow train considering the story dates back to a chapter in World War II history that has generally been ignored. It had taken Eric Lomax decades to open up and tell his story as a Japanese prisoner of war. His autobiography The Railway Man was published in 1995, half a century after his ordeal.
Noting the demographics of the audience in the theatre I was in, it is likely that the passing of a generation could mean the eventual silencing of eyewitnesses and victims, or those who have heard from them first-hand. While a movie adaptation of Eric Lomax’s autobiography is important for raising awareness of the events in the Pacific theatre during the War, the real difficulty is to attract younger viewers today to go into a movie theatre to watch it.
Of the numerous full-length features on WWII, only David Lean’s 1957 “The Bridge on the River Kwai” comes to mind for a movie that deals with this chapter in history. Eric Lomax was a young signals officer in Singapore when the British surrendered to the Imperial Japanese Army in 1942. He and other British soldiers were transported to Thailand to work on the Thailand-Burma Railway as slave laborers. Notoriously known as The Death Railway, the conditions there were horrendous. Many POW’s died and others were tortured. Lomax was one of them.
Having read his memoir, I find ‘The Railway Man’ a more realistic depiction of the POW’s conditions. Lean’s film where the men are portrayed in top physical shape marching to the famous whistling tune looks like a summer camp when compared to the atrocities Lomax and others had suffered. The war ended in 1945, but not the psychological torments of former POW’s.
‘The Railway Man’ begins with Lomax (Colin Firth) in 1980, a middle-aged veteran, still a railway enthusiast, encountering Patti Wallace (Nicole Kidman) while travelling on a train. This first part of the movie is the most enjoyable in that we see Colin Firth in his most natural and easiest demeanor, romantic yet reserved, with a dash of quirkiness. Nicole Kidman, with minimal make-up, gives an admirable understated performance. The two make good screen chemistry. Viewers will have more of their partnership in some upcoming productions.
As they chat on the train, David Lean’s ‘Brief Encounter’ is mentioned, a life imitating art experience thus ensues except this one leads to a long-term relationship. Eric and Patti soon get married. On their honeymoon, the nightmares of Lomax’s traumatic past begin to expose. He drops on the floor wrenching from fearful flashbacks.
Observing in anguish, Patti seeks to find out more from Lomax’s fellow veteran Finlay (Stellan Skarsgård) who cautions her of the scars of war and the never-ending torments. Thus leads to the second act where we see flashbacks into Lomax’s horrific POW experiences.
Jeremy Irvine puts forth an impressive effort in his portrayal of a courageous and decent young Lomax. After the radio he has made and his hand-drawn map of the railway line are discovered by his Japanese captors, the young Lomax bravely steps out to admit his involvement in order to spare his fellow soldiers the punishment. He is beaten, interrogated as a spy, and repeatedly tortured. Throughout, the young Japanese officer Nagase (Tanroh Ishida) is in full command.
The film goes back and forth in time during the bulk of the story, not roughly, but in an unbalanced way. The WWII sequences are intense, but the present day scenes exude a lethargic sense of inaction. While the talents of both Firth and Kidman can readily be tapped, the screenplay allows no further development other than the close-ups of a repressed and traumatically disturbed Lomax and a loving but exasperated Patti watching from the sideline. Here is a time when you would wish the director (Jonathan Teplitzky) and screenwriters (Frank Cottrell Boyce and Andy Paterson) had exerted more artistic freedom and creative energy into the film.
The plot turns a new direction as Finlay finds out that the Japanese officer Nagase (now played by Hiroyuki Sanada) who was involved in Lomax’s torture is still alive. Adding to Lomax’s burden, Finlay has pressured him to take revenge. Indeed, it is with a vengeful resolve that Lomax seeks Nagase out in a war museum in Thailand, where Nagase is a tour guide by the River Kwai, showing visitors the same prison camp wherein Lomax was once a captive.
As the torturer and the victim confront, tension rises. In the most critical moment, the murderous vengeance that Lomax has harbored is snapped. Nagase expresses genuine remorse and offers his apology to Lomax. Vengeance is thus dissolved into forgiveness.
This third act is supposedly the most moving section. Unfortunately it drags on too long, losing the power of the cathartic punch. While Firth’s performance is riveting as he enters the torture room and relives the past, the verbal exchanges between the adversaries and their ultimate reconciliation look contrived. As in the book, which leaves readers little explanation as to Lomax’s change of heart, I assume therein lies the difficulty for the screenwriters to invent a realistic and dramatic scenario.
Nonetheless, stories like this ought to be told for the understanding of historic truths and of the human heart. It just may sound like an over-simplification, but maybe the long road to reconciliation does start with a word of apology.
~ ~ ~ Ripples
CLICK HERE To read my book review of The Railway Man by Eric Lomax.
***
This movie review was published in the May 10 issue of Asian American Press.
Here they are, all come out to enjoy the evening sun. In just a few weeks, the Owlets have grown so much they are about the size of their parents. How I tell them apart is by their still fluffy down. Here’s Owlie 1:
He likes to try out his new wings:
Oops, caught in the branches. Flapping and struggling to get untangled:
And Mama’s reaction to all the fluttering? Totally unruffled. She’s too busy posing for me:
Here’s the more quiet Owlie 2:
And where’s Papa? As always, watching from a distance on another tree, calm and cool. Here he is, hooting away. That’s the first time I actually hear an Owl hoot, rhythmic calls, music for Mama and kids, and me:
Who teaches their young to fly and land safely? Don’t look at Mama or Papa, they don’t lift a finger:
Who teaches them to play nice, and hug each other? That too, is instinct.
Ok, for Mothers Day, let’s have a photo. I’ll entitle this one “Moonrise Haven”, with thanks to Wes Anderson:
Ah… Natural parenting, so simple, almost effortless.
***
Saturday Snapshot is hosted by Melinda of West Metro Mommy Reads. CLICK HERE to see what others have posted.
ALL PHOTOS TAKEN BY ARTI OF RIPPLE EFFECTS, 2014.
DO NOT COPY OR REBLOG
***
Previous Posts on the Owl Family (In Chronological Order):
The Great Horned Owl (March 2013)
Sign of Spring: Nesting (April 2013)
Spring Babies and Parenting Styles (May 2013)
The Hustle and Bustle of Spring (April 2014)
Within the Budding Grove (April 2014)
***
From the comments in my post What Maisie Knew (2012): From Book to Film, I see literature lovers, especially those who have read Henry James’s novel, are curious to watch the movie, wondering what a modern day film version could offer. Here is a good example of an adaptation exerting artistic and creative freedom to transpose while bringing out the spirit of the source material, ideas transferred as types onto the screen.
I can imagine too for literature purists, this is horror story. To them, movie adaptations are by definition a lower form of creation. They may be more acceptable if they follow exactly the same story lines and characterization. Any diversion spells disloyalty. How faithful and literal they are in the transposition is the sacred measure of their quality.
Having seen some retelling of literature effectively turned into cinematic form, I had long discarded the ‘loyalty’ criterion in my personal viewing. A ‘faithful adaptation’ doesn’t guarantee success, an example is the newest Romeo and Juliet (2013) which, using a modern day term, is pretty ‘lame’.
On the other hand, you might have enjoyed some movies without being aware of the literary source on which they are based, however loosely:
Apocalypse Now – Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness
Bridget Jones’s Diary – Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice
The Claim – Thomas Hardy’s The Mayor of Casterbridge
Clueless – Jane Austen’s Emma
Cruel Intentions – Choderlos de Laclos’s Les Liaisons Dangereuses
Easy A – Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter
The Hours – Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway
Jude – Thomas Hardy’s Jude the Obscure
The Lion King – Shakespeare’s Hamlet
My Fair Lady – Bernard Shaw’s Pygmalion
From Prada to Nada – A Latina version of Austen’s Sense and Sensibility
O Brother, Where Art Thou? – Homer’s Odyssey
Ran (Kurosawa’s, another evidence that literature is universal) – Shakespeare’s King Lear
West Side Story – Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet
Of course there are those that still use the same title without having to hide an alter ego, but have given the source material a contemporary spin. Because of their new angle to an old story, viewers can glean fresh insights and gain a deeper appreciation. Here are a few productions in recent years that are worth watching:
Coriolanus (2011)
Ralph Fiennes’ directorial debut. Shakespeare’s Coriolanus is placed in present day, fictional Rome. Modern politics, urban warfare, but same old human hunger for power, the treachery of pride and the ever complex entanglements of family ties. Ralph Fiennes is superb as Coriolanus rivalling and later aligning with his archenemy Aufidius (Gerald Butler). Vanessa Redgrave and Jessica Chastain play the two significant others in the life of Coriolanus the vengeful career warrior, his mother and wife. Alas, what’s a woman to do?
Much Ado About Nothing (2012)
If a movie adaptation had already been made by Kenneth Branagh with Emma Thompson and all the Brits in full period costumes and a colourful set, what is one supposed to do for a remake? Joss Whedon was ingenious enough to shoot it in a couple of weeks, like on a whim, right in his own Santa Monica, California home, in black and white. Every room, furniture, wine glass, and the swimming pool is Whedon’s, but every line is Shakespeare’s. Old story, modern humour. A most creative take.
Trishna (2011)
This is British director Michael Winterbottom’s third adaptation of a Thomas Hardy novel, after Jude (1996, Jude the Obscure) and The Claim (2000, The Mayor of Casterbridge set in 1860’s California). This time he transports us to India. From the mass of humanity, we zoom in to one innocent girl in a poor rural area, 19 year-old Trishna. The trajectory of her fate and encounters parallel Tess of the d’Urbervilles in Thomas Hardy’s novel, equally poignant and tragic. The transposition is convincing. Freida Pinto of Slumdog Millionaire fame is perfectly cast as Trishna. Winterbottom’s naturalistic style matches the mood of the novel. Not easy to watch at times as we follow a powerless female in a class-centred, male dominated world. A beautifully shot film.
Blue Jasmine (2013)
I’ve written a full post on this. I see Blue Jasmine as Woody Allen’s homage to Tennessee Williams’ A Streetcar Named Desire. A different time and place, altered names and backstories, but same kind of struggles, parallel character types. Vivien Leigh won an Oscar for her role as Blanche in the 1951 movie version as a displaced, worldly older sister coming to take shelter with her younger, less well-to-do sister. Cate Blanchett won hers playing Jasmine who faces similar predicaments. In typical Woody Allen style, a pathos and humour mashup. Blue Jasmine is an excellent new take on a piece of classic literature. Of course, in this case, we only see the overarching parallels, but it does speak to the subliminal power of old tales.
***
RELATED POSTS:
Can A Movie Adaptation Ever Be As Good As the Book?
Tess of the d’Urbervilles (2008 TV): The Lite Version Part 1, Part 2
Ripple Effects 