355: The Last M. Night Shyamalan Movie

I have been trying to avoid The Last Airbender because M. Night Shyamalan is a one-hit wonder.  But when you're in the New Territories with limited options, the best thing you can do is buy a large popcorn.

I usually check the times online before I head to the theater but today, I thought an adventure was in order.  With only faith in tow, I headed to Broadway Cinema in Yuen Long hoping to catch Salt's earliest screening.  Salt's gone.  Next option: Despicable Me (in Cantonese, no thank you).  Finally, a choice between The Last Airbender and Step Up 3D.  Like I said, I was in the mood for adventure.

I got my ticket, popcorn, and glasses.  Into the theater to seat C18 and I was praying I won't be seated next to an obnoxious smelly man.  I didn't pray hard enough.

I keep forgetting that I hated watching in Broadway Cinema (in Yuen Long).  The seats don't have cup holders!  In a few moments the trailer for Piranhas came on followed by Resident Evil Afterlife.  Those four minutes were the most entertaining part of the whole movie and M. Night Shyamalan had nothing to do with it.

The first ten minutes of the movie rolled out and I understood why it's a big FAIL.  M. Night took the material way too seriously!  He successfully established that emo freak kids with supernatural powers existed centuries ago.  All of the children in The Last Airbender acted glum and dull.  It didn't help that Aang looks like a young Paul Giamatti.  Airbender could very well be the prequel to Lady in the Water with Paul as the new reincarnation of Aang.  

I kept giving the film a chance from one pretentious scene to the next.  Surely there's something good from this film.  As if in response, the guy beside me, snorted and began his nap.  When the movie reached halftime, I wanted to shout at M. Night to get over himself.  He seems to treat his film like a gospel from the Bible and it freaks me out. 

I would have been happy if the film exuded a bit of airy lightness.  The message I got was this: it's okay to be gay.  And to prove that, here are some of the scenes that will cement its place in queer film history:

• Aang shouts to the land villagers to come out and be proud of their "powers".  And a group of men started to do a beautifully choreographed synchronized dance.
• Prince Zuko was ridiculed by his very masculine father saying that he's such a sissy that even his sister can beat him in a fight.
• Prince Zuko's uncle tells him to give up the fight and get laid with girls.  Zuko of course declines because he's really not interested in girls.
• Sokka is more interested in girls' hair (although he did kiss that white haired chick in the end so he might be Bi).
• When Aang was training how to bend water, Katara tells him to move more gracefully and which Aang effortlessly did a few seconds later.
• In the end, just when you thought they're in for a bloody battle, one of the gayest endings to date, Aang says they should all just get along, be friends and stop the hate.  World peace, anyone? I thank you.
• Hello! The title has the word "Bender"!  Check "The Last Ass Bender" in your nearest porn shop.

The film ended with a sequel set-up but we all know it's the last M. Night Shyamalan movie, right?  Or at least, it's the last M. Night Shyamalan movie I'll ever watch.  Promise. Snap. Snap.

Quick Question of the day: What do you think about The Last Airbender?

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364: Look, I Am Your Father

I have finally decided to make a separate Facebook account for my students yesterday because I got fed up with all the photo tagging.  As I was adding friends to my account, a familiar face popped up.  My dad in the friend suggestion box.  I added him and waited for the result.

Today, I woke up late as usual.  Dishes, lunch and a shower later, I had a few minutes to spare for Facebook before heading to the cinema for what else.  I promised Van I'd be done in five minutes.

I refreshed my Rated PG page and sure enough, my dad added me.  Interesting.  I haven't heard from him for years.  I haven't seen him either except for some photos a couple of months ago.  I was hoping I'd see new photos but what I saw in his account were baby pictures of "all his children" or so the album title suggested.  His five sons from three mothers.  I wonder how he pulled it off.

I dreaded most of the photos because I looked awful back then but one picture brought back a memory.  It was a portrait of myself.  I was probably eight years old.  I remember my father fixing my hair before the picture was taken.  I also remember a year later my dad decided to take the photos himself.  He got excited one afternoon, loaded the Kodak camera with film and asked me to fill a basin with water.  He put the basin near the window where it caught the sunlight.  He then told me to sit in front of the basin.  He seemed satisfied to see the ripples of light reflected on my face.

"Five minutes!" Van in his usual grumpy way.  I decided I've had enough daddy dreams anyway so we got going to the movies.  Coincidences have a funny way of showing up though because the movie we watched was Inception which, I later found out, was a full-blast father and son film.  The only thing missing was Cat Stevens' (aka Yusuf Islam) classic hit.

I purposely stayed away from anything that was written about Inception because I didn't want to spoil the fun.  I had a vague idea of the concept, but even vaguer was the story itself.  I had no idea it would be a three-level father and son medley.  I remember how I bawled with Frequency, and I feared I might do it again while surrounded mostly by men in the theater.

Towards the end of the movie, the younger Mr. Fischer sat beside his father's deathbed.  "I was disappointed that you tried [to be like me]," the dying tycoon Mr. Fischer told his son (sorry for the semi-spoiler but let's leave it at that before I ruin the whole thing).  That got me.

Growing up with a man's man father was tough for me.  Being a basketball coach, he was often asked whether I was following his footsteps.  I have tried my best.  He let me join the basketball clinic he taught in one summer.  He'd take me to all his matches.  But it wasn't in me or early on I decided that he's a tough act to follow anyway.  One day at the court, I was waiting on the bench when his friend asked him if I was going to be the next MVP.  My father took one look at me and said, "Nah, he's doing ballet."

I wanted to show him he was wrong. I started to learn the game.  I read a lot of books about basketball.  I got serious in my basketball PE classes.  I had a plan.  I would be best bb player in my city and I will never play for my own father.  I will embarrass him by not playing for his team.  But the plan became meaningless when he moved out of our lives.

The film ended with the now famous totem, top, spinning on the table.  I got teary eyed again just before the credits rolled.  If you ask me if the film was good, I can be technical about it and enumerate a dozen reasons why it's an instant classic.  But I can tell you one reason why it's the best film of the year so far.  It touched my heart.

I still dream that one day I will see my father again.  I can be honest and say I hated him when I was a teenager.  But now that I'm in my thirties, practically the same age as he was when he left the family, I couldn't blame him anymore.  I can be a bitch and dwell on the heartaches but now, I'd rather just remember the tender moments like when he fixed my hair for that photo shoot.  The creases on the photo are evidences of the many wallets it has been through.

Now, it's all good.  One day, I'll see him and probably, jokingly tell him I took up ballet and didn't like it.  And when that day comes, my top won't be spinning endlessly on a table.

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