Director's Crush: Darren Aronofsky

The master of the psychological whirlwind...

The prophet forewarning the pursuit of perfection... 

The auteur of ugly truths and pretty lies..

I absolutely love the works of Darren Aronofsky!

     I fell in love with Darren when I was exposed to his 1996 film, "π".  I was devastated by its outcome.  The sacrifice of sanity that is mandatory for omniscience.  I was further devastated by my own feeling while watching; I actually felt a sense of relief when he sent a drill through his own head.  Damn.

     After watching his latest film, "Black Swan", I ran out and replayed all of his films.  I realized that a constant theme in his films is the pursuit of perfection.  Omniscience: "π"  Success & Happiness: "Requiem for a Dream"  Immortality: "The Fountain"  Resurrection: "The Wrestler"  ...I am still pondering what Nina was chasing in "Black Swan".  Perhaps, transmutation?  Whatever the subject of the main chartacters desire, the road always leads to death.

     If you enjoy seamless, shuffling masterpieces... If you are intrigued by high-speed shifting and overlapping of perspectives... If you are curious about what happens when The Name of God gets lodged in your head... I strongly urge you to review Darren Aronofsky's filmography.

    

"For Colored Girls" - My Experience

     Watching "For Colored Girls" filled me with regret.  I regretted each and every time I revised my writing, revised my speech, to come across 'real'.  To keep my actual thoughts 'realistic' to the reader, I've dumbed down my sentences, unraveled my symbols and inserted slang.

Regret has never felt so beautiful.

      The language.  The eloquence.  The emotional delivery.  I beamed with pride from the opening credits to Kimberly Elise's closing monologue: poetry falling from black lips felt so real!  Reciting scripture in the alley ways of New York.  Serving metaphors alongside barbecue and soda.  Articulating tightly wound incantations while struggling with groceries.  This all felt natural.
     This was a heavy film, full of dark tragedies and secrets; the beauty of the script sliced through the shadows.  Full of brilliance and promise, I now feel so hopeful about the future of cinema and literature.  "For Colored Girls" marks the merge of the urban experience and more sophisticated means of expressing it.

Beyond entertaining, I found it challenging.

 I felt challenged to reverse my revisions,

and confront my complications.

I urge everyone to watch this film.

One Fear Down: Balut

     I have always prided myself on being a person who could taste food objectively.  Gamy expectations doesn't sour undiscovered flavors for me.  Fear doesn't turn my stomach before the meal gets a chance.  If it's good: it's good.  If it's bad: it's bad.  However, one dish turns me in to a yellow-bellied hypocrite!  One dish that had me shaking in my boots..

BALUT

     My bad responses stem from watching the "Dumplings" segment of 3 Extremes; where they subtly equivocate eating Balut with.....umm, maybe you should watch the movie for yourself.
     Anyways, the thought of chewing on a duck's embryo made my face twitch.  It also didn't help that balut is a dish that is eaten relatively slow.  It just seemed too far.  Having something I've never tasted on my blacklist made me feel bad.  Although everyone agreed with me, I saw my fear as a blemish on one of my best qualities: the willingness to try anything at least once.
     One day, a Filipino friend of mine invited me to eat with her.  Today's menu: rice, chicken and balut, her treat!  I reluctantly accepted her invitation.  Excited and nervous simultaneously, I didn't want to disrespect her culture by spitting out her food.  Millions of people consider this a delicacy, who am I to find it unnatural?

     She taught me the proper way of eating balut: cracking the shell at the top of the egg, after sprinkling a little salt, you sip the broth.  To my surprise, it wasn't bad at all, it was like a salty, egg soup.  The visual aspect was the trial I had to overcome.  Peeling the shell off, there was also a thin, veiny membrane encasing the yolk and embryo.  I couldn't help but think, "Poor baby," as I caught the first glimpse of his/her beak and eyes.
    (Side note: I never understood why people object to eating baby animals while devouring their adult counterparts.  As if veal and baby chickens were robbed of a happy childhood locked in a barn,  Barn life seems miserable.  I think eating them while they are young is a more humane approach.)

     The egg yolk was exactly like a hardboiled egg, no noticeable difference.  Although it looked slimier, the texture remained the same, as well.  Watching my friend eat her balut, she merely sucked the body out from the egg.  I followed suit.  I actually enjoyed the flavor, the bones were barely noticeable.  No feathers.  No burst of blood.  No tortured baby quacking.  

After my second and third helping

I felt silly for being so afraid.

Welcome to My New Blog!

If you haven't noticed, I have peculiar taste.

     Avant-garde and dissonant music.  Strange and exotic cuisine.  Crazy movies that gives me a headache. Anything experimental... Anything fresh... Anything the stimulates a strange response: I need it.
     This peculiar taste has proven to be an isolating quality.  I've never met anyone who listens to the kind of music that's in my collection.  Nor have I found anyone willing to go dutch with me at an expense, bizarre restaurant.  There is a lot in my iPod and refrigerator that I have to enjoy alone.  (And let's not get into my ill-fated, movie suggestions!)
     The primary purpose of this new blog is to put it out there.  John Zorn. Visitor Q.  Fernet Branca.  Alice Coltrane.  Holy Mountain.  Dinuguan.  These are a few of my favorite things.  Hopefully, I can find others that appreciate the lesser known pleasures.