When it comes to upcoming movies, they fall into a ranking of four categories for me:

1-Oh my God, I must see this the minute it comes out.
2-I am definitely seeing that...when it rolls over to OnDemand.
3-Yeah, maybe I'll watch that on HBO when absolutely nothing else is on.
4-No, never.

There may be about 5 films out of the year that rate a 1, and I initially filed Kick-Ass between a 3 and 4. I found the trailer about as intriguing as the one for Hot Tub Time Machine, looking as if it would probably be load of poorly written wisecracks and typical slap-stick humor. I don't even like superhero films to begin with, they typically translate the exact same story (just in a different color of Spandex). However, after reading that the film "may do for superhero movies what Pulp Fiction did for crime films"--that's the big statement all the critics are tossing around--I had to see it for myself a few weeks ago.
After that, I had to see it again; this is a rare occurrence.

It was certainly very Quentin Tarantino-esque; brutal violence with anime-like cinematography and that whole new level of "girl power"he always includes. In fact, the character "Hit Girl" has been stirring up quite the controversy between her foul mouth and ability to annihilate grown men without even wincing. Being the desensitized millennial that I am, I wasn't as shocked by the juxtaposition of the character, or too concerned with an 11-year old being exposed to a few gallons of corn syrup. However, I notice the people that she really has tugging at their shirt collars mostly consist of men. I can't help but briefly wonder if Hit Girl was a boy, would there be as much of a fuss? Would the tables be turned?
Since boys have such a fixation with violence around that age (being that they haven't entered puberty yet) I don't think the result would be as shocking. Little girls are supposed to be the epitome of innocence--sugar, spice, and everything nice. Now add a pair of butterfly knives and some throwing stars and you have some very uncomfortable men.

Of course I find her empowering in a twisted way, and I'm curious if Hit Girl will trigger a new genre of some lethal Lolita's (not that she's the first). Perhaps our society could use a sociopath in pigtails to refute the usual influx of sexualized Bratz dolls.
Basically, she's my new Chuck Norris.

And I'd like to see you ask her to make you a sandwich.

Though Hit Girl is the outstanding favorite to many, she didn't entirely overshadow the other characters either. Kick-Ass, the actual main character, is the absolute antithesis of Hit Girl (and any superhuman for that matter). He serves as the typical geeky teenaged boy, he doesn't wake up with any super powers, he doesn't effortlessly exterminate thugs, and he's not emotionally detatched. But even as he's only winning by the skin of his teeth, if at all, he still remains somewhat inspiring. I took a certain admiration as he was crushing his polyblend mask in his hands and began crying on his bed after being introduced to and completely shown up by an 11-year-old and her father. In a typical superhero film, he probably would have been stoked and instantly joined forces, or may have been suspicious, only to later join forces. I was truly impressed that they put a little more thought into that, of course a boy would be crushed and embarrassed. That would probably make anyone want to cry in secrecy.

I didn't entirely hate Nicholas Cage's character either, which says a lot.

I may only be so impressed with the movie due to my originally low expectations. But even so, the movie seemed to take a lot more sociological consideration than most superhero films, which I find most commendable about it. Shockingly enough, I may even pick up the graphic novel after this...


(Update: for an interesting and much better evaluation of Hit Girl, check this out)

(Another update: the soundtrack was pretty good too, I remember hearing a lot of Prodigy)

Ghost in Disneyland

Beauty and the Beast, I think I could comfortably say is my favorite Classic Disney film. The estate was just gorgeous, but of course I would think that of a brooding mansion crawling with gargoyles.

That was the movie I’d watch over and over, don’t we all have that as a kid? I’d watch it until the credits rolled. It was that film I discovered that when you center yourself and focus on those credits, imagining the room is moving rather than the words, it creates the optical illusion of being on an elevator. Isn’t that fun?
Anyway, for the past few months I had been pondering what I might look like rendered as a Disney princess; being the near antithesis of a typical Disney princess. So I combined their various features and distinct stylization with my wardrobe, and voila:



Princess Ghost! I included my cat, Wonton, because they always have some sort of mischievous, right-hand animal. Right now it’s sort of at a “coloring book stage;” hand-drawn and raw. I’d like to paint a background using photoshop, I found the perfect tutorial in a back issue of Advanced Photoshop (which by the way, if you purchase one of their thicker magazines, you pretty much have a year’s subscription because they always circulate around the same artists). So I’ll probably go in and illustrate a typical location I’d skulk around: an old warehouse, graveyard, or a rotting house perhaps—the usual. And of course clean up the lines a bit and add color.
I’m considering a villain version as well, one with sharper features and a sinister scowl. You know, to balance of good and evil.

Strange Room

The once complete dining room with a grand cherry wood table, a filled China cabinet, and dark vintage wallpaper is now empty, beige, and full of light. It was one of my favorite rooms, though probably deemed outdated by the standards of this month's House Beautiful and Better Homes Than Yours--sorry, Better Homes and Gardens. So it just had to go, didn't it?

I take after my father's taste: the belief that we actually live in Versailles, and should decorate accordingly.

As inviting as a room without furniture could be during the day, the room transforms into an entirely black abyss at night. I think we all have those rooms, the kind you jet past when all the lights are out. We don't like to admit to it, but we do.

Pebbles, my blind, deaf, epileptic, and cancerous cocker spaniel often makes herself comfortable, as comfortable as she can, in it's corner; matching the blonde color scheme of the room. She just sort of blends in, sitting there, cocking her head at unhead signals.

I once saw a man disappear into the room, just caught the shoulder of his white dress shirt pass the doorframe.

But these sorts of things are just normal around my house.