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Carol 2015
If there was a concise historical volume of my cinematic pilgrimage, it will probably open with the little joys of childhood transpired on a screen. The brief whir of the VHS as it loads the tape of “101 Dalmatians”, the vague memory of sitting in a theatre for the first time at around 7 years old after I pestered my mother to bring me to a screening of a local film because I liked the actress, and trips to the…
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Petite Maman 2021
“Secrets aren’t always things we try to hide. There’s just no one to tell them to.”
“Petite Maman” movingly dismantles the temporal segments of the human existence beneath the mild tremors of grief, the mesh of identities. The past, present, and future collapse and collide amidst. Doused with autumnal shades and piled with riven branches, a mother’s death scales us back to our younger selves, dislodging us in our place in the world not because it suddenly looks different at…
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The Devil Is Driving 1932
“Call me a taxi.”
“All right, you’re a taxi.”On this winding ramp of reprisal trots the tow-away vehicle of love. Soot and grease line the face of an alcoholic vagrant-turned-mechanic, observer of trafficked stolen cars partly hiding behind the legality of his brother-in-law’s garage business. The police is endlessly tricked, failing to capture and catch the perpetrators. Under their noses, the stolen cars are taken apart and remodelled in mockery. But beside the notes of easy money lay the…
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Panic 1946
A deceptive ride to a supposed romantic euphoria in a carnival of obsession, "Panique" screams in unwarranted alarm at shallow impressions and unfounded accusations as grounds for public persecution. The eccentric and antisocial outcast Monsieur Hire is perceived as a criminal merely because he talks to a small girl sitting on the stairs, and buys the bloodiest meat from the butcher's. Through the eyes of the townspeople, more so at the arrival of Alice, the questionable circling, trailing, bumping, and…
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Moonlit Winter 2019
the heavy snowfall in Moonlit Winter piles up along the driveway and the streets and is laboriously shovelled and cleared out the next day only to pile up again. an allusion to feelings tucked in so long ago that ebbs and flows whenever the switch of memories is flicked on and off.
where there is vulnerability in communication through undelivered letters, words muttered in the air without a response, phrases written on paper without a reader, longing gushes ragingly amidst…
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National Theatre Live: Fleabag 2019
“you know, either everyone feels like this a little bit, and they're just not talking about it, or I'm completely fucking alone. which isn't fucking funny.”
my thoughts, my thoughts, my thoughts...
obviously I’m not able to catch the play at a theatre because I currently live in Narnia nor are there any screenings near me but I managed to find a copy somewhere. other than visiting a country last May I think watching the series is the only other…
