I can't claim to have impeccable taste in movies. I have paid to watch films like Karate Kid 2 (oh-my-gawd) and Going the Distance, after all. But once in a while, I stumble unto something intelligent AND watchable --- a feat increasingly rare in today's films. You will not have learned of this movie. It didn't even show here in the country. Sige, aaminin ko, the only reason I even bought this film is because James McAvoy is in it. And maybe because Helen Mirren was nominated in this year's Oscar's for Best Actress. I'm thankful for this 2 very shallow reasons though because it led me to finding a movie that, in my opinion, competently portrayed the conflicted life of the famed Leo Tolstoy. As a litgeek, of course I know who Leo Tolstoy is. I could name his novels and essays, and maybe, perhaps, infer on a couple of reasons why he was such a big man in Russia. But the truth is, I haven't read War and Peace. It makes for such an excellent doorstopper that I h
Stephen vs. Stephenie, the fight is onnnnn! :) Guess whose side I'm on? I just read this in yahoo mail and I had to IMMEDIATELY blog about it out of pure joy that all the faults I found wasn't just in my head. Somebody else who has more authority to speak about it, agrees. Meyer sucks. She just purely does. She was saved by finding a really great story, one she didn't do much justice, but girls will read anything with a hot dude in it. We are not all Stephen King fans, but I respect this dude (botoxed face and all) coz he writes. And even if his stories are creepy, he writes them well. I don't always like what he writes about (i.e. What's up with that The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon, huh?), but at least he tells it well. And for those who say, well, Meyer's an amateur, get this: writing Twilight makes her an amateur. Did we see improvement in the next books though? At all? No. It even got worse. One word: Renesmee. But I've said all this before. Let me just qu
Lately, I have been hinting heavily at my boyfriend that I would “appreciate” receiving a love letter. He’s been spot-on so far --- big boxes of chocolates, scouring shops and shelling out the bucks for my “craving of the month” munchies, flowers in vases and fluffy stuff to clutter my bed with. Everything except the Letter. See, some girls dream of breathtakingly expensive proposals, some of big fabulous weddings, and some fantasize of babies in a twin carriage. But ever since I was young, I only had one romantic notion and that is to receive one heck of a searingly honest, non-sappy, ultra-passionate love letter. The kind of letter that bares the soul and seals in ink the reasons and unreasons of Love --- so real it makes all other literature pale in comparison. I guess on the off-hand, it sounds like a tall order. I can imagine litgeeks balking at this request. And my guy, who like my sister believes that reading and writing are things you suffer through only for a perfectly iron-cl
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