it
was a choice between a light movie (oz the great and the powerful) and
something dark and unsettling (stoker) on my way back to manila this early
june. thinking that i probably can copy the james franco – michelle williams
starrer from emma or pops, i chose the much darker stoker.

stoker
is captivatingly different from the usual thriller fare. while it may be
lyrical or tranquil at the onset, the horror beneath the surface made it engaging.
as beautiful as the cinematic shots that were everywhere in the film, as they
say, park chan-wook’s style, the movie is disturbingly good. the sequences in
the basement when india was putting the ice cream in the freezer and getting
some for herself while the light fixtures were swinging were particularly well
put, ominous and creepy. the thought of india realizing her darker side as her
true self is altogether disconcerting and not your everyday flick afterthought,
which might stay with you in a long while. first-rate cast was also one of the
key strengths of the film. nicole kidman’s evelyn was superbly vulnerable and
matthew goode’s charlie was charmingly manipulative and sinister at its best. mia wasikowska was far
from her mirror mirror ladylike character. in stoker, she effortlessly conveyed
india’s naivete or susceptibility to being devoured by a vile character, inner strength and inherent wickedness.
evelyn
stoker: you know i've often wondered why it is we have children in the first
place and the conclusion i've come to is at some point in our lives we realize
things are, they're messed up beyond repair. so we decide to start again, wipe
the slate clean, start fresh and we have children, little carbon copies we can
turn to and say, you will do things i cannot. you will succeed where i have
failed because we want someone to get it right this time. but not me,
personally speaking i cannot wait to see life tear you apart.
india:
my ears hear what others cannot hear; small faraway things people cannot
normally see are visible to me. these senses are the fruits of a lifetime of
longing, longing to be rescued, to be completed. just as the skirt needs the
wind to billow, i'm not formed by things that are of myself alone. i wear my
father's belt tied around my mother's blouse, and shoes which are from my
uncle. this is me. just as a flower does not choose its color, we are not
responsible for what we have come to be. only once you realize this do you
become free, and to become adult is to become free.
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