This Could Be a Job For Mulder and Scully

Whack, whack, whack

November 6, 2008

Just seen the latest Bond movie, and no, Pusong Pinoy, I decided to save myself a trip to MOA, with the long lines, the waiting, the feigned collective gasps and cheers, and the presence of more doctors than I will ever need to see in my lifetime for that supposed premiere, and just watched the movie in Town Center, where the movie is showing in 3 cinemas, and there were vacant seats around me, and the cinema is small and cozy, and there were no collective, palpably bloated cardiologist egos. Really, what is the point of doing a premiere on the opening day? Sure, it will probably buy a few permanent pacemakers for poor patients thereby saving precious lives, but since I’ve already paid the compulsory bloated tickets, I’m sure no one missed me there. And, having given that long, exhausting, tirade of an introduction, back to Bond:

The best way to enjoy the movie is to pretend that you don’t understand the story and that you are only there to see James Bond hit things because really, I didn’t understand the story. Maybe it was the British accent, or the jumpy storylines, or my own poor comprehension after years of head injury, but I didn’t understand the story one bit—and if some of you did, I hope you feel superior. The only good thing about this movie is Daniel who fits the repackaged, non-sissy, non-metro Bond whose solution to everything is to whack it. The dude looked invulnerable, like he could fall from all that height and get pummeled and stuff and you’d really believe he didn’t hurt one bit. Nobody I know likes this actor particularly because he’s not pretty pretty, he has coarse facial features, he looks grimey all the time, and just all around rough around the edges, but I am partial since he played Joe Rose in the movie version of the great book Enduring Love by Ian McEwan.

In Enduring Love a freaky dude (I think he is played by the underweared guy in Notting Hill) gets fixated on the university professor Rose, and attempts to save his soul or something. Of course he’s just a sicko, particularly, he has a condition called DeClerembault’s Syndrome. Sicko stalks Rose and tries to insinuate himself in Rose’s life in every annoying way possible. By the end of the movie the two share a rather long and weird torrid kiss terminated only when Rose finally stabs Sicko (a scene not in the book, by the way). I lent Therese the book Enduring Love back in July 2005, and she read the entire thing in one sitting during an ENT duty. It freaked her out, particularly because someone was DeClerembaulting her as well in real life.

My brother-in-law complained that there are no double D girls climbing up the pool or walking out the beach this time as the staple in the old movies. In Casino Royale there was no such thing either, and I remember a review pointing out that instead of the girl it was the muscled Bond walking out the beach instead to the collective gasps of lonely women everywhere. My sister complained that there are no gadgets involved this time, which I think is great. The very concept of gadgets just stopped becoming impressive 10 years ago. The corniest gadget in James Bond history is the invisible plane, I mean, invisible car. I think that is in the same movie where Denise Richards wears pekpek maong shorts and plays… a rocket scientist.

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