Shutter (2008)

Japanese/American remake of an original Thai horror/thriller movie.  The important part, I think, is that the director in this case is Japanese (Masayuki Ochiai) – I think it’s been pretty well demonstrated, over the years, that they have a magic touch when it comes to creeping the shit out of cinema goers.

Remember Ringu?  That was some scary stuff right there, and what was it?  Just a girl with long hair being played backwards.  Or The Grudge, which this movie probably should be compared to (or The Ring I guess, but I never bothered watching it after enjoying the original Ringu so pants-pissingly much), a kid with a black mouth screeching like a cat.  And terrrrrrrifying.

Well, here we have the same thing again, Americans in Japan being harassed by scary as hell Japanese ghosts – visible, usually, only in photos.  So how scary is it to take a Polaroid, and seconds later see a terrifying ghoul, in the same room as you’re in?  I’ll give you a hint: really scary.  (Though the movie isn’t as scary as Ringu.)

I don’t want to give too much away here, but let’s just say that the leading man (Joshua Jackson) is a photographer, and the leading lady (Rachel Taylor) – his new wife, they’re on their honeymoon – likes to… take photos with a digital camera.  Oh, it turns out that the ghouls loooooovvee CCD sensors as much as they like film negatives.

Uh-oh.

The teensy little blonde sitting beside me certainly seemed to like it, if all the squeels and shifting around in her seat where anything to go by.  This leads me to think it would probably make a good date movie.  (In as much as any movie can be a good date movie.  I don’t think movies are a good date idea – you can’t talk to and get to know a person in a movie, so what’s the point?  Maybe date number 3 or 4 or 5 – of if you’re just trying out how it feels to ‘go out with’ someone you’ve known in other contexts for a while.)

The movie ends reasonably gently (well, gently for us, not so gently for folk in the movie) by telling you, more or less, how you can avoid being harassed by these terrifying ghosts, so you won’t be followed in the shadows by scary little ghouls infesting your thoughts when you leave the theatre, so if you’re of a fragile disposition, this one is probably safe for you – no worries about something being in the bathroom, behind the door.  Dear god, don’t go and look.  Just get out of the house.  That creaking noise you just half heard?  Leave.  Now.  Run.

RUN!

Smashing Pumpkins (& QOTSA)

[flv:https://morganavery.nz/media/smashingpumpkins.flv 640 360]

A few things I didn’t mention in the vid:
Billy Corgan wore a fetching silver metallic skirt well matched to a silvery Zero t-shirt.
The kids in the mosh were idiots, with a lot of stupid shoving and surging (and P.S. very little of this music really justified a mosh, most of it was a couple of notches down the intensity level from there – at the jump up and down stage, no higher).
Several folks decided, at various times, that the middle of a huge tightly packed crowd was a great place to spark up a bit of weed. Being subjected to other people’s smoke when you really don’t have any reasonable way of avoiding it is completely fucked. It smelled like brain damage.
Queens of the Stone Age seemed pretty good, but I’m not a big fan, and only know 1 or 2 of their songs.

I did try to get a better camera before the gig, but the shop I visited claimed to have stock on their website, then in store pretended ignorance (and surprise, inflated the price by $200 at the same time as offering ‘free’ delivery – pretty stink, and distinctly non-New Zealandish, tactics).

I remember really enjoying the Smashing Pumpkins last time I saw them – all the way back in the depths of 1994 – and I enjoyed them again this time, but perhaps playing for 20 minutes less, and getting more focus with their set list, would sharpen things up a bit.

Drillbit Taylor (2008)

A Superbad rip-off.  I’m not sure if it’s fair to say rip-off when it’s made by the same people.  Actually, given that, maybe it’s even worse than an “honest” rip-off.  The three kids are the same fucking characters as in Superbad.  The fat kid with curly hair and a big mouth, the not fat kid who is more softly spoken, the dorky little guy with a weird voice.  What the fuck?  SRSLY.

Anyway, it has its moments.  I liked all of the movie & pop culture references.  (Too bad not many people in the theatre seemed to get half of them.  Or if they did get them, didn’t enjoy them.)  And the Fight Club scene was sweet.  (Seriously, in the back?  In the forehead?  Knee to the quad? One in the nuts?  Youch.)

If your plans suddenly change (expected/unexpected zombie outbreak, you understand), and you find yourself at a bit of a loose end after dinner (lovely Korean) with a mate, you can definitely do worse – it’s pretty funny, pretty easy going.  But weaker than the original.

No alcohol in the squad car.

Verdict: why not?

Cake Sunday

[flv:https://morganavery.nz/media/cakesunday.flv 640 360]

Just lately I’ve been trying to start a new tradition, each week I get together with friends for dinner and ‘something’ (sometimes ‘something’ is something good like Heroes or Dr Who, and other times it’s something ungood like Torchwood), the last 4 or 5 weeks I’ve added a little something extra to the mix, in the form of cake and wine.  Yes, I know the lens is dusty sometimes, and I also know that some of the dialogue appears to be delivered by floors and chairs, I was just talking to friends, and not all of the good dialogue coincides with good camera work.

God damn the cake was good.  (There was so much I took about half of what you see here into the office on Monday.  Shameless.)

The Beer We Can Has Are Serious Issue

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xEFDVc6XCcc[/youtube]

“What’s the matter with the beer we got? I mean, the beer we got drink pretty good, don’t it? I ain’t never heard nobody complain about the, uh, beer we have. It drink pretty goooood. Budweiser. What’s the names of some of them other beers?…”

Brilliant stuff. I don’t understand how we (as humans, obviously I’m not an American) can allow ourselves to be encumbered with such ludicrous restrictions.

What right do you have to say how much alcohol I can have in my beer? The same right I have to tell you how much time you can spend sitting in church. Which is to say: None at all, because what each of us does as we go about enjoying our peaceful lives, does not affect the other.

Sniff, sniff.

When Mr Snuffles sniffs at things, it’s cute.  But when, in the near future, a stranger sniffs at you it won’t be cute, and it won’t be because you smell, it will be because they want to steal all of your keys.  (And you won’t even notice.)

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NW3RGbQTLhE[/youtube]

This is why I wear a giant zorb-style Faraday cage everywhere I go.

Mr Snuffles

[flv:https://morganavery.nz/media/mrsnuffles.flv 640 360]

Mr Snuffles is hot for cats, likes soya milk, and loves quiet walks in the garden.

The Internets Are Great

Where else will you ever see someone shooting a rifle until it catches on fire, and then keep shooting it, struggling to avoid being burnt, while changing clip after clip of amunition, until he can no longer stand the heat?

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eNAohtjG14c[/youtube]

The answer is nowhere else.  My life is just a tiny little bit better, and a whole lot more stupid, for having seen this.

A Good Old Fashioned Ball Clubbing

The other day I met up with Dylzno after work and we headed over to The Shore to visit the Takapuna driving range – I guess the first time I’ve been there in two or three years (my oh my, how time flies) – and it turns out that while I was never great, now I pretty much suck.  But it was great fun.  I’ve already figured out that one of my mistakes is trying to hit the ball really hard, when I think I should be trying to hit the ball fast instead (and smoothly).  If you’re a golfer, what one tip (or trick) helped make a difference to your stroke?

[flv:https://morganavery.nz/media/ballclubbing.flv 640 360]

Good fun, which is more than I can say for the fried chicken I tricked him into having for dinner afterwards.  (So disappointing.  That’ll teach me.)