Everything and Nothing

No musze przyznac, panie kolego docencie, ze film doprawdy wysmienity. Nie powiedzialbym, ze to najlepszy film jaki wogole widzialem, ale naprawde dobry jest.
I ta Sibel… fiu… fiu…
Genralnie nie lubie takich ciezkich filmow, ale od czasu do czasu fajnie cos takiego obejrzec.
Zakonczenie wydaje mi sie troche naciagane, ale musialo byc troche dramatyzmu, nostalgii itd.

Wzdryga mnie w momencie kiedy ona podcina sobie zyly. Podcinanie zyl wydaje mi sie najbardziej ekstremalnym sposobem na odebranie sobie zycia. Podcinasz zyly i czekasz… to chyba dobre dla tych co nie sa do konca zdecydowani i lakna zauwazenia, bo zawsze jest szansa ze ktos taka osobe znajdzie i uratuje. Albo dla kogos ktos jest 100% zdecydowany i chce sie swoim samobojstwem chwile “nacieszyc”.
Ja bym wybral strzal w glowe.

Genialna scena… muzyka, ujecia, gra aktora i to bum na koncu…
I feel you
Each move you make
I feel you
Each breath you take
Where angels sing
And spread their wings
My loves on high
You take me home
To glorys throne
By and by
This is the morning of our love
Its just the dawning of our love

Czasem zaluje ze nie znam niemieckiego. Chcialbym sie kiedys nauczyc podstaw niemieckiego, hiszpanskiego francuskiego i rosyjskiego. Tymczasem nadal walcze z angielskim.

It’s always when I need it, always with me… and it likes NIN too.

A to dopiero poczatek…

posuwa niektorych do tego typu debilizmow rozsylanych na gg:

“blagam, przeczytaj chociaz polowe i przeslij wszystkim na swojej liscie, to nie jest lanczuszek, po pierwszych 3 zdaniach bedziesz wiedziec o co chodzi: Przeczytaj uwaznie! Jesli usuniesz ten list… bedzie to oznaczac, ze naprawde nie masz serca. Czesc, jestem 23 letnim ojcem. Ja i moja zona mielismy razem cudowne zycie. Bóg poblogoslawil nas takze dzieckiem. Nasza dziesieciomiesieczna córka ma na imie Wandzia. Niedawno lekarz wykryl raka mózgu w jej malutkim ciele. Jest tylko jedna droga, aby ja ocalic … operacja. To przykre, ale nie mamy dosc pieniedzy na operacje. “Epuls” i “Onet” zgodzily sie nam pomóc. Jedyny sposób w jaki moga to uczynic polega na tym, ze ja wysylam ten list do Ciebie, a Ty wysylasz go dalej, do innych ludzi. “Onet” sprawdza ile osób dostalo list. Kazda osoba, która otworzy i przesle list dalej , do co najmniej trzech osób, podaruje nam 32 centy. Prosze, pomóz nam ! jesli wyslesz ta wiadomosc do 11 osób, na Twoim profilu pojawi sie zajefajny znaczek. Nie pytajcie jak to dziala, ale dziala. ja przesy3am bo mam serce”

Mum: Oh dad… look who’s come to see us… it’s our Ken.
Dad: (without looking up) Aye, and about bloody time if you ask me.
Ken: Aren’t you pleased to see me, father?
Mum: (squeezing his arm reassuringly) Of course he’s pleased to see you, Ken, he…
Dad: All right, woman, all right I’ve got a tongue in my head – I’ll do ‘talkin’. (looks at Ken distastefully) Aye … I like yer fancy suit. Is that what they’re wearing up in Yorkshire now?
Ken: It’s just an ordinary suit, father… it’s all I’ve got apart from the overalls.
Dad (turns away with an expression of scornful disgust)
Mum: How are you liking it down the mine, Ken?
Ken: Oh it’s not too bad, mum… we’re using some new tungsten carbide drills for the preliminary coal-face scouring operations.
Mum: Oh that sounds nice, dear…
Dad: Tungsten carbide drills! What the bloody hell’s tungsten carbide drills?
Ken: It’s something they use in coal-mining, father.
Dad (mimicking): ‘It’s something they use in coal-mining, father’. You’re all bloody fancy talk since you left London.
Ken: Oh not that again.
Mum: He’s had a hard day dear… his new play opens at the National Theatre tomorrow.
Ken: Oh that’s good.
Dad: Good! good? What do you know about it? What do you know about getting up at five o’clock in t’morning to fly to Paris… back at the Old Vic for drinks at twelve, sweating the day through press interviews, television interviews and getting back here at ten to wrestle with the problem of a homosexual nymphomaniac drug-addict involved in the ritual murder of a well known Scottish footballer. That’s a full working day, lad, and don’t you forget it!
Mum: Oh, don’t shout at the boy, father.
Dad: Aye, ‘ampstead wasn’t good enough for you, was it? … you had to go poncing off to Barnsley, you and yer coal-mining friends. (spits)
Ken: Coal-mining is a wonderful thing father, but it’s something you’ll never understand. Just look at you!
Mum: Oh Ken! Be careful! You know what he’s like after a few novels.
Dad: Oh come on lad! Come on, out wi’ it! What’s wrong wi’ me?… yet tit!
Ken: I’ll tell you what’s wrong with you. Your head’s addled with novels and poems, you come home every evening reeling of Chateau La Tour…
Mum: Oh don’t, don’t.
Ken: And look what you’ve done to mother! She’s worn out with meeting film stars, attending premieres and giving gala luncheons…
Dad: There’s nowt wrong wi’ gala luncheons, lad! I’ve had more gala luncheons than you’ve had hot dinners!
Mum: Oh please!
Dad: Aaaaaaagh! (clutches hands and sinks to knees)
Mum: Oh no!
Ken: What is it?
Mum: Oh, it’s his writer’s cramp!
Ken: You never told me about this…
Mum: No, we didn’t like to, Kenny.
Dad: I’m all right! I’m all right, woman. Just get him out of here.
Mum: Oh Ken! You’d better go …
Ken: All right. I’m going.
Dad: After all we’ve done for him…
Ken (at the door): One day you’ll realize there’s more to life than culture… There’s dirt, and smoke, and good honest sweat!
Dad: Get out! Get out! Get OUT! You … LABOURER!

MICHAEL: Very passable, is it? Very passable bit of risotto!
GRAHAM: Aye!
GRAHAM: Nothing like a good glass of Chateau de Chassilier, eh Josiah?
TERRY: Oh you’re right there, Obadiah.
ERIC: Who would have thought thirty years ago we’d all be sitting here drinking Chateau de Chassilier?
ALL: Aye…
MICHAEL: In them days we was glad to have the price of a cup of tea.
GRAHAM: Aye, a cup of COLD tea.
ERIC: Without milk or sugar.
GRAHAM: Or tea!
TERRY: In a cracked cup – and all.
ERIC: Ooh we never had a cup. We used to have to drink out of a rolled-up newspaper.
GRAHAM: The best we could manage was to suck on a piece of damp cloth…
TERRY: But you know – we were happy in those days although we were poor.
MICHAEL: BECAUSE we were poor! My old dad used to say to me: “money doesn’t bring you happiness son.”
ERIC: ‘e was right.
MICHAEL: Aye.
ERIC: I was happier then and I had nothing. We used to live in this tiny old tumbled-down house with great big holes in the roof.
GRAHAM: House? You were lucky to live in a house. We used to live in one room all twenty six of us, no furniture, half the floor was missing, we were all huddled together in one corner for fear of falling!
TERRY: You were lucky to have a room. We used to have to live in the corridor!
MICHAEL: Oooh! We used to dream of living in a corridor! Would have been a palace to us. We used to live in an old water tank on a rubbish tip. We all woke up every morning having a load of rotting fish dumped all over us. House? Huh!
ERIC: Well, when I say house it was just a hole in the ground covered by a sheet of tarpaulin. But it was a house to us!
GRAHAM: We were evicted from our hole in the ground. We had to go and live in a lake!
TERRY: You were lucky to have a lake! There were a hundred and fifty of us living in a shoe box in the middle of the road.
MICHAEL: Cardboard box?
TERRY: Aye!
MICHAEL: You were lucky! We lived for three months in a rolled-up newspaper in a septic tank. We used to have to get up every morning, at six o’clock and clean the newspaper, go to work down the mill, fourteen hours a day week in week out, for sixpence a week, and when we got home our dad would thrash us to sleep with his belt!
GRAHAM: LUXURY! We used to have to get out of the lake at three o’clock in the morning, clean the lake, eat a handful of hot gravel, work twenty hours a day at mill for twopence a month, come home, and dad would beat us around the head and neck with a broken bottle if we were lucky!
TERRY: Well of course we had it tough. We used to have to get up out of the shoe box, in the middle of the night, and lick the road clean with our tongues! We had to eat half a handful of freezing cold gravel. Work twenty four hours at that mill for four pence every six years, and when we got home, our dad would slice us in two with a bread knife!
ERIC: Right. I had to get up every morning, at ten o’clock at night, half an hour before i went to bed, eat a lump of cold poison, work twenty nine hours down mill, and pay the mill owner for permission to come to work, and when we got home our dad would kill us and dance about in our graves singing hallelujah!
MICHAEL: And you try and tell the young people of today that, and they won’t believe you!
ALL: No, they won’t!

Prince: My congratulations, Wilde. Your latest play is a great success. The whole of London’s talking about you.
Oscar: There is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.
There follows fifteen seconds of restrained and sycophantic laughter.
Prince: Very very witty … very very witty.
Whistler: There is only one thing in the world worse than being witty, and that is not being witty.
Fifteeen more seconds of the same.
Oscar: I wish I had said that.
Whistler: You will, Oscar, you will. (more laughter)
Oscar: Your Majesty, have you met James McNeill Whistler?
Prince: Yes, we’ve played squash together.
Oscar: There is only one thing worse than playing squash together, and that is playing it by yourself. (silence) I wish I hadn’t said that.
Whistler: You did, Oscar, you did. (a little laughter)
Prince: I’ve got to get back up the Palace.
Oscar: Your Majesty is like a big jam doughnut with cream on the top.
Prince: I beg your pardon?
Oscar: Um … It was one of Whistler’s.
Whistler: I never said that.
Oscar: You did, James, you did.
The Prince of Wales stares expectantly at Whistler.
Whistler: … Well, Your Highness, what I meant was that, like a doughnut, um, your arrival gives us pleasure and your departure only makes us hungry for more. (laughter) Your Highness, you are also like a stream of bat’s piss.
Prince: What?
Whistler: It was one of Wilde’s. One of Wilde’s.
Oscar: It sodding was not! It was Shaw!
Shaw: I … I merely meant, Your Majesty, that you shine out like a shaft of gold when all around is dark.
Prince: (accepting the compliment) Oh.
Oscar: (to Whistler) Right. Right? (to Prince) Your Majesty is like a dose of clap.
Whistler: Before you arrive – before you arrive is pleasure, and after is a pain in the dong.
Prince: What?
Oscar and Whistler: One of Shaw’s, one of Shaw’s.
Shaw: You bastards. Um … what I meant, Your Majesty, what I meant …
Oscar: We’ve got him, Jim.
Whistler: Come on, Shaw-y.
Oscar: Come on, Shaw-y.
Shaw: I merely meant …
Oscar: Come on, Shaw-y.
Whistler: Let’s have a bit of wit, then, man.
Oscar: Come on, Shaw-y.
Shaw: (blows a raspberry)
The Prince shakes Shaw’s hand. Laughter all round.

“Ghost Rider”

Sciagnalem sobie ten film, bo mialem ochote na tania rozrywke, i dostalem za swoje. Wiedzialem ze film jest zrealizowany na podstawie komiksu, a fabuly komiksow nie sa zbyt skomplikowane, ale… bez przesady. Film jest slabiutki, efekty specjalne dla ktorych sie takie filmy oglada – takze, nawet nazwisko Cage’a tutaj nic nie pomaga. Odradzam!

Kolejny film na podstawie komiksu, ale znacznie lepszy od “Ghost ridera”. Latwy, lekki i przyjemny. Idealny aby “tanio sie rozerwac” Szczegolnie podobal mi sie fragment ze Spider-Man’em opetanym przez Symbiot. Nie sadzilem ze Tobey Maguire ze swoja twarza pacholecia bedzie w stanie zagrac zlego chlopca, a tu prosze.

Nie da sie ukryc ze ostatnio wybieralem filmy przy ktorych nie trzeba sie specjalnie wytezac intelektualnie, ale coz, przeciez w kazdym filmie (oprocz “Ghost Rider’a”), mozna znalezc cos wartosciowego, prawda? W tym filmie mozna, jest wesoly, czasem nawet zabawny, pouczajacy (w troche banalny sposob) itd. Nie zabraklo tez smiesznego murzyna (w tym przypadku murzynki), a na koncu, Bog (Morgan Freeman) przemienia sie w bialego golabka z galazka w dziobku (i tu mnie troche zemdlilo). Generalnie jak na prosta komedie – ok.”

Horror. Nie wiem, chyba juz wyroslem z tego typu filmow, albo to wina slabej realizacji, bo nudzilem sie i tylko czekalem na final, ktory mnie troche rozczarowal. Generalnie film nie jest taki zly, to chyba ja niespecjalnie lubie ten gatunek – duchy, nawiedzone domy itd. Takie sobie.

Kultowy film z 1971 roku, a ja go obejrzalem kilka dni temu po raz pierwszy… wstyd sie przyznac, ale z drugiej stony lepiej pozno niz wcale. Warto bylo zobaczyc oczywiscie, przypomina mi troche “Fahrenheit 451″, podobna wizja przyszlosci, ale co sie dziwic, oba filmy pochodza z tego samego okresu. Swietna sciezka dzwiekowa, film ciekawy, wkurzylo mnie zakonczenie, zlo przeciez powinno przegrac no nie?