“I am king of the world” proclaimed director James Cameron as he picked up the best picture Oscar for for Titanic.
After a string of the hugely successful films namely Terminator, Aliens, Terminator 2 and True Lies, Titanic was the film that ( according to most) would knock James Cameron back down to earth. At a cost of $200 million it was the most expensive film ever made and was also dogged by behind the scenes infighting with the studio almost shutting the project down.
Indeed, the studio was so sure they had a huge expensive dud on their hands that rather than abandon the film James Cameron agreed to forgo his usual up front fee in favour of a percentage share of the profits. The studio being convinced of course that the film would make no money.
How wrong the studio was. After early negative word of mouth, Titanic quickly became the most successful film of all time and garnered 10 Oscars in the process. With a percentage profit share Cameron was now as wealthy as anyone in Hollywood and the world was his oyster as far as his next film was concerned.
Eleven years later and finally his latest film is about to be released. Avatar is by far his most ambitious project and at a cost of $300 million dollars is currently the most expensive film in film history. The Sci Fi spectacular promises CGI that blurs the line between whats real and whats not. Cameron has said that he only began working on the film when he felt that the CGI technology was advanced enough to match his vision of what the film should be like.
Over the past few months, images and clips had surfaced on the internet which had geeky fanboys literally ejaculating with excitement. Some say the film will be as successfull as Titanic, others say that its viewing will be akin to a Pseudo religious experience.
As the much anticipated release date draws ever close, the film site Gawker.com has posted the first review of the finished film. Apparantly the reviewer is reffered to as a real live entertainment worker and this is his report.
“I watch a lot of movies, and am especially obsessed with watching horrible films with inflated budgets. I was delighted to find that Avatar didn’t disappoint in the absolutely horrible fetishizing of azure humanoids that James Cameron has obviously been drawing on the back covers of his notebooks since middle school and secretly getting off to in the gym locker room. The new technology they’ve been using to eliminate the headaches and sickness conducive to old 3D tech has not been used properly in the action scenes throughout Avatar. The problem is with cutting in between 3D focal points and perspective – the mind cannot adjust to it without a buffer – thus, Avatar is literally vomit inducing.
But the movie itself, the story/acting/tone are alienating and weird. Of course there are very beautiful moments, with great editing/sound/art direction, but overall it’s a horrible piece of shit. The entirety of the Hollywood marketing machine is behind it, however, so it’s going to make a boatload (eh I could slip a Titanic ref. whatever) of money.”
I really hope that this guy is wrong or that the Review is a fake. If you cant wait for the Release date then below is the trailer.
One of my favourite songs and music videos has been imitated many times. Now, its the turn of our furry friends to oblige. The result is something that is truly great. Watch and enjoy.
Every now and again a horror film comes along with the dubious claim of being the most scariest film ever made. However, most of them turn out to be as frightening as an episode of Scooby Doo.
This then brings me to ‘Paranormal activity’. A new film by first time director Oli Perri, which is leaving horror fans moist with anticipation. At a cost of £9000, the films budget wouldn’t even cover Johnny Depps breakfast bill, yet in the states alone it has grossed in excess of $120 million making it ( from a cost to revenue ratio) the most successful film ever made. The entire film was shot in the directors own house and only has two main actors throughout. Fortunately I happen to catch a sneak preview a couple of weeks before its official UK release date.
The film centres around a young couple Katie and Micha, who experience strange goings on in their home. Micha is less inclined to believe in a paranormal explanation but is still intrigued enough purchase a video camera in order to capture whatever it is on screen.
The entire film plays through the camera lens a la Blair witch project, but fortunately for us the camera shake is kept to a minimum. The audience heart beat rate per minute certainly increases alarmingly when the camera is perched on a tripod in the couples bedroom, filming as they sleep. The resulting filmed activity is pretty creepy to say the least.
But the real question is whether the film is as scary as the word of mouth from the states would have us believe. Judging by the amount of screams and sharp intakes of breath heard from the members of the audience during the course of the film I would say that it certainly lives up to its reputation. Is it the most scariest film ever made? To be honest, I can’t really say yes or no, but it certainly is up there as one of the scariest films ever made.
When Simon Tofield wanted to teach himself flash animation he decided to make a short film starring his own cat. The result is a hilarous piece of animation which has become a sensation on the internet. In total Simon has created six short films, with the first one shown above.
Watch with the volume turned on. I just love the cats meow!!
It is now a week since our return. Whereas India was Exciting, Colourful and extremely hot, here in the UK it is cold, wet and very very grey. Wish i was back over there.
This is my last full day in the Punjab. We travel back to Delhi in the morning and fly out out the following day. As I write I am sitting on the balcony of my fathers house overlooking acres and acres of land. The sun is beaming down and again, and as per every day we have been here there is not a cloud in the sky. The only sounds I can hear are that of a harvester harvesting a field to the right of me and the incessant chatter of the birds.
Below me a heard of cows have just gone past. In the opposite direction and elderly woman walks past, carrying a basket full of cow pats on her head. The methane gas makes them perfect for fuel.
I have been here for most of the day and despite the absence of the internet and English language television channels I have thoroughly enjoyed my time and wouldn’t have it any other way.
The pace of life in the west is becoming more and more hectic as we work longer hours for less and less reward. Sometimes all one wants to do is stop the word and get off. That is exactly what I have done here. And it’s great.
I have always wondered what made my parents leave this idyllic land and start a new life half way around the world, to endure rain, cold and of course prejudice. The answer is simple, Poverty.
B both my parents’ family were poor, although my mother’s side was a lot poorer than my father’s side. Moving to England was their way to escape the poverty and in turn send money over to alleviate the poverty for family members in India.
In my father’s case, England really was the land of opportunity as his hard work and dedication paid off. His fortune grew and throughout the years he sent literally Hundreds of thousands of pounds to India. He built a new house. Bought land and was the cash cow of the community.
Unfortunately. my Mother’s side of the family didn’t see much of the money, hence the reasons why they are still very poor. All over the Punjab you see enormous homes, paid for by money from NRI’s (Non Resident Indians). The money pumped in from England has certainly helped boost the economic prosperity of the region. But as in most states the level of poverty is still alarmingly high.
Has my opinion of India changed during the two weeks of my travels? The simple answer is yes. I was immensely proud when it launched the first space rocket a few weeks ago. The first stage of a programme that will ultimately take India to the moon. It is costing Billions of Rupees.
Having seen the poverty first hand, India’s space ambitions should certainly be given a lower priority. It’s pointless sending a rocket to the moon when 500 million people are starving at home. The same applies to the 2012 commonwealth games to be held in Delhi. The Billions of Rupees spent should also be diverted in helping alleviate he slums and provide better housing. Instead a fortune will be spent on Bamboo walls to hide the Slums from view.
India are clearly in Denial with regards to its poverty problem. They have an image which they want to portray to the rest of the world. The image of an Economic super power in waiting. The slums do not fit in to that view. Indeed from what I saw, I cannot see India as a super power. In the last hundred years all super powers have built their might upon a strong industrial base. At its heart, India is still very agricultural.
It is a country of extremes. The haves and the have nots. If you have money then India is a great place to live. If you don’t, then survival is the order of the day. And yet, it is they who smile the most. Would I go back to India? I certainly would. Would I like to live there? Maybe. Despite the differences compared to England, I found the Villages surprisingly familiar and felt at home straight away. Something I thought I would never do.
I came as an Englishman in a strange land. I leave it saying goodbye to a familiar place.
I had a relaxing day in the Hotel today. The women were busy shopping and so I decided to venture out of the hotel compound and go for a little stroll.
I made sure I had the taken all the precautions, shades on, baseball cap on, Mosquito spray on. I walked past the multitudes of people, some loitering, some shopping some just taking a rest while they pick their noses. Etc etc etc…
Street life in India is a totally Alien experience
In the UK we expect our pavements to be safe and fit for purpose. Here, there were pot holes the size of the Grand Canyon. Even worse, there was no safety guards covering the holes. Word of advice, never jay walk in India!!
Crossing the road was also a risk. You need to look both ways and if you avoid being hit by a car, motorcycle or rickshaw, then a passing killer cow may finish you off. In fairness though, the cows just graze quietly without a care in the world. They are given free rein in the towns and cities because the Hindus regard cows as sacred animals. With the absence of grass they merely munch on the plentiful supplies of litter.
I was filming at a crossroads when I noticed two young girls begging money from cars which were stopped at red lights. They were barely seven years old. Once they laid their eyes on my I was a lamb to the slaughter. Travelling at warp factor 10 they were suddenly six feet away. Their outstretched hands in full begging mode. I pulled out my Wallet and gave each one a 100 rupee note. Big mistake. They danced and waved at me in appreciation and then the older of the two began gesturing towards her feet. A 100 rupee note was now not good enough for her and she now wanted me to buy her a pair of shoes.
The children of the corn!!
I gestured to her that she can afford 10 shoes with the money I gave her. Both children then vanished. I began to walk back to the hotel when the two girls reappeared, this time with an older boy of about 12. He was just as dirty and unkempt as the girls and his begging also paid off as I put a 100 rupee note in his hand. By now both the girls were asking me to buy them shoes, the boy was still begging despite my gift to him and all of a sudden, warping in from the Gamma Quadrant a second boy appeared. Same appearance as the other three. This time I didn’t oblige.
They were walking about 6 feet behind me, each begging in their own inimitable way. I would stop, they would stop. I would speed up, they would speed up. They were always six feet away nect to each as if they were posing for a photograph.
At this point in time I was getting rather irritated. What is this I thought? The Village of the Damned?
Eventually I reached the hotel compound. The children clearly knew the limits of their begging and as quickly as they appeared they vanished.
I have mentioned the poverty a lot in my blogs but to be honest you cannot escape it. Everywhere I went, I saw poverty at a scale that will haunt me for a long time to come.
The next blog will be my last India update. See you then.
Days 6 and 7 were very busy indeed. As a result I have not had very much time to spend on my blog.
Day 6 and was spent visiting my wife’s family. One particular aunty remained in my thoughts. She was as elderly lady whose husband and only son had died in quick succession leaving only her daughter left. Her husband and son were the main bread winners and in their absence the only means of support is to sell the milk that is produced by two cows that they keep in the back garden.
Despite the hardship they were in remarkably good spirits, and surprisingly they gave us a gift which must have cost them several weeks’ wages. They knew we were coming and had been saving for weeks. They had clearly sacrificed a lot, which only made us feel guiltier when we accepted the gift. Refusal to accept is a sign of disrespect.
I gave her a gift of several thousand rupees before we left. At that stage I could have happily given her all the money that i had in my wallet.
Day 7 was the day of the big Party at my father’s house. Family and friends arrived from the surrounding areas and copious amounts of drinks were drunk and food was consumed.
As I write, I am still suffering from the ‘night before’.
Whereas my father’s family are landowners and clearly not short of a bob or two, my Mother’s family are very poor. She has three sisters and one surviving brother, each living in poverty. The itinerary for today was to visit each one and pay our respects. I, my brothers and sister agreed to give a monetary donation to each of my mother’s sisters of 2000 rupees each which equates to several months wages for them, yet to us it really wasn’t that much! Their daily income is about £1.20
Each of the houses was small and sparsely populated. The walls were bare apart from a number of photographs. To my astonishment my photograph was up there being displayed, along with my family and brothers’ and sisters’ families too. They were clearly proud that their sisters children were educated and doing well.
They served us refreshments they could barely afford, but what surprised me was that despite their poverty, they were constantly laughing and joking. They may have been poor in monetary terms but in spirit they were as wealthy as Bill Gates.
Again this was a very humbling experience. In England you would consider yourself poor if you can’t afford the latest mod cons. Here it is when you do not know where your next meal is coming from.
Travelling from house to house has certainly opened my eyes to the real India. This is well away from the tourist areas and the hustle and bustle of street life is something that needs to be experienced firsthand. Again, as in Delhi the mass of people is just unbelievable. India is the second most populous country in the world and judging by the number of people walking the streets here in the Punjab I can well believe that!!
My father had booked us a car and driver to use all day, and we spent a lot of time travelling from one place to another. But it was absolutely impossible not to get bored. Looking out of the car window and seeing the sights and sounds of the various places we pass through is in itself a highly interesting and eye opening experience. There was just too many things happening. And most of them are sights you will never see anywhere else but India.
The following photographs and stills from my camcorder footage perfectly illustrates my point.
When the lights turn red prepare for mayhem.
When husbands are sick of their wifes, they are sent to the market to be sold.
The following stills from my camcorder were taken during a 15 minute period.
Day 4. Temperature 36 degrees. As we drove from the train station to the family home, it soon became apparent that the traffic in the Punjab is just as manic and suicidal as it is in Delhi. And in some instances it is even worse.
We had booked in to the Raddison hotel situated in the centre of Jalandha, but before we made our way there, my father was eager to show me the family home. He had insisted we stay there rather than the hotel, but it was pretty obvious that if I succumbed to my fathers wishes then clearly I would never leave the house due to the amount of visitors we would receive.
At least in the hotel we can do our own things.
I had heard stories that the house was very big and decorated to a high standard. I had only seen poor quality VHS footage over the years, but when I finally saw it in person a sense of pride enveloped me. Pride because my father had worked hard and built it to what it is now. It reminded me of an Indian version of southfalk ranch from the television series ‘Dallas’.
The floors were laid with marble throughout, the ceilings and coving had intricate carvings and the solid mahagony stair case bannister was a hand crafted work of art. The courtyard was large enough to host a five aside football match. It had three levels.
The rear of my fathers house taken on his land.
Two lovely servant girls were living there with their mother. Perhaps servants is the wrong word because these girls were treated like members of the family and thoroughly enjoyed what they were doing. They treated us with an enormous amount of respect and we recipricated by buying them bags of Chocolates and goodies. Actually my brother bought the chocolates.
Stepping outside the front door and all you could see was agricultural land as far as the eye could see. The sun was beaming down from a cloudless sky and for the first time in a while fresh air entered my lungs. The mass of humanity that had followed me throughout, had now been replaced by a few farm workers. The whole pace of life was a lot slower here. Camcorder in hand, i walked along a footpath taking me away from the house. The sights were truly beautiful.
I can quite happily live here. Sell everything in the UK and live like a king and that is no exaggeration. For the first time in my life, the Indian part of me which had remained dormant all my life began to stir..
