on the assumption,"I THINK THAT I'VE MET MY SOULMATE"

I just heard my friend saying, " I'm so happy. I love him a lot. I really think that I've met my soulmate this time." How many times have people committed the mistake of confusing one from the other? Probably countless of times, but none is to blame cause in all of us lies the urgency to feel deeply connected to someone. Where does the differenciating line is drawn though? In the notion that a soulmate and a life companion are two similar but not identical cells; they r both easyly confused, specially when a special dementia, love, introduces itself.
For example, a soulmate is someone that seemingly has been by your side forever, and yet ironically you just met. It's the overwhelming DEJA VU of feeling compatible with someone u rarely know from the get go. Someone that you got along and trusted , since the first moment. It could be a best friend male/female. It's a certain love that's deeper than a physical attraction or even sex itself: Which it is here where the biggest difference resides. It's a love that's inexplicable. It's far from being lustful and not quite brotherly either.
A life companion/partner, it depends severely on the attraction of the body: that love is born from an ever growing infatuation. Unlike the described soulmate love, the life partnership love is beneficial. It strives to obtain something desired, which in this case is physical. The resulted love comes as a side effect.
This theory doesn't reject the miracle that rarely in life, both forms of love are born as one. It's a precedent that comes seldomly. Many claim it, but it's rare like a jewel. Just like my friend, it seems that everyone that he matches with seem to be true soulmates for him; soulmates that usually ranged between 2-5 weeks duration.

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on "Dancing on my own"

Don't know, if any of you have heard the new song "Dancing On My Own" by Swedish artist ROBYN, the point is that the song resonates with such a lingering truth. The truth that I invoke of is of that one that lurks and swarms us all, at a certain point or several in our lives when we need to corroborate a fact in our own flesh.
There's a saying that denounces the necessity that humans have to slap ourselves from dreamy lies, even the blissful ignorance, as many call it: "eyes that ain't seeing, heart that ain't feeling." It's precisely what many of us do, when confronted with hard wake up calls that linger around us latently, but we are always the last ones to accept it.
The affairs of the heart are the most common and painful ones to confront. Even if we live in a romance that is sinking, we still refuse to accept defeat; so we enshroud that destination with a mist of lies, fantasies, and hope. The more we conceal it, the farther we get from the truth. Although it never takes the pain away, it fools us by believing our own lie: a dimension that has only one perspective, which is our own desire to retain something lost.
Being the victim of an adulterous relationship always breaks down our most sanctum defenses. It leaves us full of insecurities that are forever present in us. It's our part to control them or let them rule our future affairs. The thing is that we may see all the signs, witnesses, and even substantial proofs that something is afloat. Something that was under dark waters, and later it deliberately swims on the surface. Taking the side of the adulterous ones, it might be an unconscious desire to be caught and be forced to pull the plug on a comatose relationship; we even opt to lie or be lied in order to avoid hurt. Confrontations are often dreaded; Although there are a few that look for reasons to ignite arguments, in order to find that courage required to take out what's burning for the longest inside and deal with it. Oh how I do truly wish that honesty will shields us all from pain, but that same shield can cause us even greater grief. And yet the inability to see beyond the thickness of our own fog of hope prevent us to accept and hear the flagrant voice of reason. We reside in the shadow cause we feel safer in the bitter-sweet gap of denial. Until we don't see it with our own eyes, then there's no definite evidence. What's even beyond pain is to know and live with the corrosive doubt: suffer in pain, and yet put up a good face to keep our beloved one close and perhaps fool ourselves that the extinguished spark is not entirely gone.

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the notion of horror

"I sat there witnessing my friend watching in horror and squirming as the bad guy cut the protagonist's body into pieces..."
What can be said about the new genre of slash-horror movies that is not but just a visual feast of challenges that inadvertently puncture the senses: those that directly act on the aesthetic of the human body. Mutalitalion comes in practice as the overwhelming antagonist. It becomes more than a craft, style, or medium of affliction; it shamelessly usurps the source of terror. Mutilation evolves from being a tool to becoming its own mind and hand. The notion of horror lies not on the maniacal being executing the crime, but on the fashion, on the execution itself.
Slash horror films depend severely on its presentation. Since the antagonist is a staged execution, the audience needs to see it happen in order to be sensationally disturbed; let's remember that what we see appeals first to our senses than to our emotions.
Emotions are perceived by what cannot be seen or physically conjured. After the body finishes to sense a pinch, the brain scans it and identifies it as a feeling: pleasurable, painful, ticklish, bothersome, etc. As soon as the feeling presents itself, then a series of flashes right down the memory bank of our brain will project an unconscious association that yields an emotion. Emotions are the responses of a projection that takes place inside the mind. Take it as the reaction of an audience at a movie theater watching a film. Emotions are the result of that connection established between the feelings and the memories; Hence an emotion is born from what's not present, but what it used to be. On the other hand, Slash horror plays with the senses. It relies on the feelings of discomfort, pain, suffocation, and agony. It's a kind of horror that's more related to the flesh than any other.
Let's not talk about the birth of the slash horror genre, but maybe the main references created by the horror film fest of the 70-80s. NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET, FRIDAY THE 13TH, HALLOWEEN, CHAINSAW MASSACRE, and many others helped tremendously in the embodiment of the slash genre. All of the films mentioned above, they harvest a field that was only seeded before by films like THE EXORCIST, SALEM'S LOT, and THE OMEN to simply mention a few prominent ones: the exploitation of the occult. Even with today's technical advances, the 70s-80s continue to reign supreme as the most macabre and horrific golden age in horror cinema. But why did they triumph and remain? Looking back at the style and mythology, it's due to the violation of something that presented to be more valuable than the body: the rape of virtue.
Everything about true horror boils down to Religion. The stigma achieved during the 1970-80s horror cinema, it's of a violation of the sacred; innocence, purity, virginity, goodness, faith, family, and love are the members mutilated. The price is damnation to the trespaser: a virulent agent that will spread the disease of death until hell opens up to swallow it or heaven provides redemption. Good versus evil at war from a metaphysical plane where the flesh is the subject of punishment. It's from here that the original horror springs; the idea of losing the ultimate sanctuary.
Imagine being taken by surprise by a storm, we run under the rain not taken care that the body is exposed to the harsh weather because the idea of knowing that a shelter is waiting provides us with certain relief. Incorporate the notion that there would be no haven or sanctuary that relieves us of any suffering. Translated to religion, it becomes the idea of no after life, no heaven, no paradise, no punishment for the wicked nor reward for the martyr. The violation of the sanctum, of what is considered upwholly, embarks us into an increasing fear of desolation.
But what about films like NOSFERATU, THE CABINET OF DR. CALIGARY, FREAKS, and even the avant-garde THE HOUSE OF USHER from the silent era? These films in their own right introduced early cinema audiences to the sheer meaning of the macabre. They also pioneered the feeling of desolation as a means of fear. They form part of the conception that help the 70-80s violation of virtue theme. They'r a great reference to explore and analyze independently, since the silent horror cinema has a more focussed attention on topics of tabooism, and the well exploited enigma of mortality.
By mortality, I imply the psychological abhorrence that humans have toward the grotesque and death itself. Early cinema masterfully captures the emerging phobia of 1800-1900s afflictions of the body; where simple diseases presented bigger risks, incomprehensible heart conditions that killed w/o fully having a scope of the cause, the recently discovered paranoia of being buried alive, the deformities caused by unknown physical malignities, etc. All of the above were outrageously even dreaded more after the long and arduous battle during the 1700s to control the European chaos known as the Smallpox Pestilence. The horror of the silent cinema is more emphasized on the philosophy and romance, just like the early German epic DESTINY portrays it, of the biggest affliction ever: the fear of our own mortality. Either a divine punishment or a satanic curse, the silent films tackle the matter with a reverent philosophical nature that's unavoidable, fearsome, and again enigmatic. In the other hand, the 70-80s see death with curiosity. The matter is mysterious, but with less reverence; the directors boldly abuse death, as the means to achieve the fear factor. People are no longer afraid of death, since it happens too frequently, too casually, and too shallow. In the 80s and even contemporary horror cinema, people are more afraid of the style/medium in which they meet death. In some paradoxical instances, death becomes the escape and salvation from the tormented flesh; physical pain turns into the source of fear.
Going back to the idea of sanctuary, death becomes the only shelter possible that provides release; in some cases, the terror hunts its victims even while asleep. NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET mitigates the body by violating the realm of dreams. Even at sleep, there's no rest possible for the characters. The desolation is highlighted by invading the sanctuary of the bedroom. The menace is so intimate and close that the horror transforms the simple act of falling asleep into a relentless prosecutor; the idea of closing our eyes without knowing what dwells inside that darkness became the nightmare itself that haunted many viewers during the 80s and even 90s.
For THE EXORCIST, the mutilation and aggravation of virtue is accentuated on several principles: innocence, faith, and the sanctity of family. It's this last one that true terror uses to cross the screen and perpetuate a timeless fear on the viewer. The trespaser invades the nucleus of the family and betrays it by assaulting in any form (soul, mind, body, and virtue) the member most innocent of all. In my case, it isn't the green vomiting nor the spider-crawl walk down the stairs that gives me the greatest shock; but scenes like the bed shaking and the back and forth throw on the bed that successfully hunts my memories. I find a connection in those childhood memories where I spent hours sick at home. There's no denying that those scenes have a close rapport to the defenseless of a child during illness: where loneliness, hallucinations, and nightmares torment the mind, while the body fights the ardor of a fever.
To have horror is to find that alarming state of mind where all hope is lost. It's the act of drowning in our fears. For me, the horror caused by the slash horror flicks is of a different indolence: of a lesser nature compared to the horror classics. There's something about the slash horror genre that doesn't perpetuate. It simply plays with nerves by causing a visual discomfort. Just like a paper cut, we r not terrified of them cause they happen casually and often, but if we see it happening on others it triggers physical discomfort. As soon as the sense of discomfort leaves, there's no fear or substantial feeling that lingers. For me, true horror is that one that alters our reality and shifts our beliefs by breaking in into anything that we sanctify: that one that dismembers our most valuable virtues. Here's my notion of horror.

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on my post, I'LL BE ACCEPTANCE

acting on what I preach,
That's exactly what I did recently or to be more specific last week. On an abrupt of momentary selfconciousness, I posted a simple but genuine message that seemed to be what I felt inside at that moment: "tonight, ill be acceptance." It was w/o going too deeply analytical a second of awareness.
For the last couple of months, I've been distancing myself from those that I held as dear friends. I shouldn't use the past conjugation because these people are still present, in one way or the other in my life. it's more of a feeling of neglection. Lately, I have felt that friendships have been fading and it makes me feel impotent because I can't do anything about it. I'm talking about people that have been preoccupied a lot with their own lives: Children, careers, relationships, or new friends are absorbing most of their time. Do I have the right to feel neglected as a friend? I'm not sure
Can I complained properly? I've tried talking about it with them.
Is it a selfish feeling? I think It is.
Whatever reason the reason, they're in their own right to spend time with however they choose to. Everyone is free and friendship should be understanding; and yet, I found myself developing resentment against them.
I saw myself demanding even. They, as friends, without complains tried to attend and fill in the gaps. I guess that they noticed how we were growing apart unintentionally from each other.
I still felt that something was missing and possibly lost. So it filled me with doubts. What I've been concealing for some time is a kind of sourness. Little by little and one by one, I waited for the slightest reason to shut them off my connections. Without knowing it, I even found myself being too demanding of the new friends and new people that I was meeting; it is here where I noticed the bitterness that I was sinking in. I realized it just in time to snap out of it, and reconnect with those that I banned. I'm still working on it, but thankfully I'm aware of it now. I'm accepting and identifying that friendship remains no matter what deep inside. It was me the one poisoning myself by allowing a frustrated anger ruled my character: this benefits all of my friends, myself , and even people that are new and soon to arrive in my life.

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old fashion...

Nothing beats the interaction of two people meeting for the first time; the initial courtship of eyes requesting and eye-to-eye contact, the explicit silence of knowing that everything is going ok and that some things are not needed to be said. The comfort of being playful and opened because you feel welcomed. The wonder of finding how much you differ from one another,and yet to find that there're important key elements in common. The suspense of knowing if that person will accept to go out again, or if you'll be asked to go out, etc. What starts with a simple glance, an exchange of smiles, and the eloquence of body language is truly something so remarkable that needs to happen in person oppose to from behind a monitor. It's the case of my generation that dwell their hopes and hide their insecurities on cyberspace.
I do admit that I have sinned of such exciting and yet frustrating ritual. It's great to have the convenience of interacting with someone cybernetically. It's an advantage to establish the beginning of something from the comfort of your own room: no need to dress up, no sense of urgency, the feeling of privacy, all of the above w/o any expenses. The system works for many there's no doubt about it; what I see happening though is the over reliance on it. I've seen close friends or friends of other friends developing and almost addictive pattern of what they consider as "socializing." The idea of a physical encounter is exchanged for the versatility of multitasking from home.
It goes from being able to chat with someone special ,while attending house chores to meeting and exchanging thoughts with many at the same time.They refuse to go out and explore their options. It's blamed on the investment of time that many claim to lack, and doubtfully it's always the case. It's as simple as making time to stop for coffee. Even the most busiest professional will always be able to bend the routine , in order to make time for someone. It all comes down to the desire to really engage.
In my case, it has been successful a couple of times, but interactions that rely on "ill chat u up" have been 80% fated to fade. There's nothing like taking the time to meet someone for a movie, meal, or a drink. Friendships and romantic relationships need a physical nurturing to initiate and maintain. I know. I've lost contact with close friends. Even best friends fade and are replaced by someone else that's willing to see you and hang out ultimately.
Nothing like the old fashion way to meet friends and mates. Trust me, it's highly successful in every bit of the way. I recently rediscovered how positive it is.

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today i came to terms

Today I came to terms,
I finally realize something that has been happening for some time. Several months ago from now, I've been spending a lot of time at the bars. I've been trading the relaxing, laid back, content, intimate nights for the crazy spontaneous night life of the city. What's wrong about living life to that extend? None, the malign effect is caused by the reason of the why itself.
In a very light text exchange with a friend, she made the statement that I've been getting drunk almost every day lately. I tried to explain to her that I don't necessarily drink to that point; I only enjoy going out , see people, socialize. We kept joking back and forward and amidst the fast replies, I unwillingly admitted the root: I go out a lot and even drink a lot lately because I want to feel happy. I want to enjoy my time; I want to compensate for how unhappy I feel at work. I want to neutralize the bitter after taste I feel.
Maybe for the average Joe this is the life of the daily workers around the globe; but for me, this is the first time ever in my life, I mean ever that no matter how much enthusiasm I put into, no matter how much I try to concentrate on work, I feel not happy about it, even trapped. I do pray that the situation changes. But it hasn't changed so far. I've been hoping it to change for months now.
I'm surprised for this because I had it bottled it up all this time. I felt it several times, but never figured that it would affect my life in such an order or disorder.
Oh well, welcome to the real world I guess. I just feel pity cause I always loved what I do, and last year around this time, I loved what I did indeed .

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on the SOCIAL NETWORK

When i first heard of the film, two months prior its release, there I was thinking "a movie about Facebook? Who in their right mind would come up with such and idea?" I found myself asking what's so exciting about its origins? Then I learned that the film was based on the founder himself. So I went from being skeptical to completely mouth trashed the film because I felt that I was not gonna contribute on a film that elevates an already multimillionaire figure to reaches even beyond popularity; a popularity that is far from needed, when you possess such fortune. that's until I saw OPRAH, read reviews, and found out through a friend that the movie is not a catapult to stardom, but a defamiliarization of the character with "his own" idea of connection.
Once at the theater, I sit patiently waiting for the previews to finish while sharpening my soon-to-sink fangs on the movie. Regardless, I confess that the level of buzz that it is causing kept me in suspense on what type of story I was getting into. The first 5 min were originally eye rollers; there's nothing on screen but two characters at a diner and a fast paced exchange of thoughts, insults, and even a romantic affair buried underneath piles of words that almost make no sense at all. Picture Laura ly and rory from GILMORE GIRLS bouncing thoughts back and forward about college, computers, and any random irrelevancies. it's until 10 min later that I realize the ingenuity of the introduction. I'd dare to say w/o giving any spoils that the entire movie is driven and ignited by what takes place at that diner table.
It is this fast pace field that manages to captivate me. The style in which the characters are presented, exposed to the circumstances and even abhorred for their actions makes the narrative always move forward w/o losing an ever increasing momentum; surprisingly enough, the film gets to a boiling point that is constant and tamed by the hierarchy of its own top educated characters: a fight of dominance that takes place not in the wild , but from behind computers, dorm doors and lawyers. Take for instance, the existence of the the "antagonists" a duo of blonde, athletic, coming from money, 3.8 gpa jocks that happen to be twins. They represent the stereo typical studs driven by impulse. The paradox is the stereotype itself facing the almost gentleman-like nature of the characters that show more decency than the protagonist himself. After all, they are the presumable victims in the plot. Killer line to go down in history "why can't we sue? [...] cause we are HARVARD gentlemen..."
Biggest surprise of the night, the caliber of the main character's acting. Where many saw a complete jerk, I saw a character goal oriented that meant no harm to none, but a go getter that's willing to prove himself . Don't know if this is fiction or not, but that's what I got from the acting. Maybe the actor added a much multi- faceted perspective on the real life of a person that's monochrome in real life: a plain jerk as the movie claim him to be. I don't care. I liked the acting and the character it presented with all flaws and regrets.

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today I'm not better than yesterday

It is hard to say what maybe deep inside of me i'd like to say. What I know is that if I can't admit it to myself, then I can't identify what type of inner block is preventing me to say I'D REALLY MISS YOU.
Today I woke up feeling not quite right. There is this urgency that yields at me saying that I can't afford to let petty mind games take away the little friends I have. But when i think about it, I remind myself that her character was always an obstruction. Don't want to speak for others, but I saw how that same issue affected others around her. she has had more roommates in two years than any other freshmen student would ever haVE in college; each ending in severe conflict to the point of being kicked out or simply forced to abandon.
Regardless, I feel vacant. As if someone took a bite devouring a chunk of me. Today I feel like a lesser person. It's true that good friends make us better and greater individuals . Today I'm not better than yesterday .

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on what i lost and will lose

today was a great day,
what started to be a nice exchange of jokes, laughs and rekindle turned out to be the ending of an unfinished friendship that died a couple of years ago; this person got surprisingly upset over an exchange of whimsical and clownish words on a thread started by a mutual friend. it is not to my surprise though, since ive remembered just person to have that snappy kind of mind; one moment, she will be all jokes and fun, then at a moment w/0 notice, she'll be utterly upset for something unworthy. it is in fact, why the friendship was frozen for almost two years. during that time, there was no flow of greetings, thoughts, emails, text messages or phone calls. all of the sudden, she begins to post comments on my postings. then today, the idea of reconnection was shut down over a joke that she initiated and couldn't afford to take back.
OH WELL! good luck for her and the friends she knows. the friends will really need lots of tactfulness to handle such relationship. but is it really necessary to behave tactfully among friends all the time?  i mean, ud think that a level of comfort, trust, and connection has been established that will allow good friends to be truly open with each other. i guess, it is only an ideal friendship that will allow such grade of perception.

on inception

Inception a la noir

Nolan has managed to architect by far the most though provoking, and ambitious films in recent years, not just this year, but recent years: and that is a statement. let’s not get lost by flowering a film that is already being recognized and adored by many as a truly cinematic experience. factors like story, narrative, characters, plot, and artistry elevate inception to levels higher than those of traditional cinema; audiences no longer are witnesses, or participants of the experience, but all together they become submerged into the drama, into the realm of its universe that awaken questions of what’s presented onscreen: this is where Nolan pays homage by invoking an old style from the past, a style defined as film noir. and just like Noir itself, the film becomes a plunge, a literal “leap of faith” into a calm lake in the middle of the night where a moonless sky reflects nothing but darkness on the water’s surface, dark waters of unknown depths.  

Inception pays tribute to the noir style by using mechanics such as the hard boiled protagonist, a mysterious femme fatale, a colorful ensemble of supporting characters, a final mark that promises a new life, and the importance of perception in its universe. among all the presented elements of film noir, it is perception the one that stays and edits the film into a whirlpool that sucks in its characters and audience alike. 

films like “double indemnity,” and “sunset boulevard” successfully used and redefined the gangster genre. they did so richly that a new genre was born from the desire to connect the audience with its anti-hero characters: empathy became the objective. the thrill of the old fashioned gangster’s storytelling was needed to evolve and break new boundaries, not only of morality, but of a psychological nature too: one that would directly deceive the spectator into liking, feeling for the anti-hero on screen, instead of condemning him. inception presents us with characters that regardless how much we root for their success, they are not up to something good; in fact, they are a special group of thieves that operate outside any type of law: moral, judicial, metaphysical, and religious. 

Nolan incorporates a psychological background that enable us to connect and like the characters to a point where we do not appeal to the what type of consequences their actions will bring to the innocent victim. just like in film noir, we have been deceived and linked to the protagonists. we are part of their journey. we are participate in their “leap of faith” to dark water’s depths.   Along the way, we lose the sense of the initial perception that becomes even blurrier after we traverse among lairs and lairs of new formed planes.  The deeper they go, the more that we depend on them to show us the way back to a reality, we begin to question. 

As in film noir, the narrative is a window into the story of the protagonist. it is by all means not an objective point of view, but a subjective interpretation of a collective reality. what makes us think that what seems to be the film’s reality is not another lair of the protagonist’s interpretation? inception begins with the beginning of the end, only to have the protagonist drag us back to what he claims to have been the starting point of the series of events that led us to that beginning.  all is an interpretation: a formed conception of what is claimed to be real. it’s a piece painted by a desired fantasy and not by what’s truly presented. oppose to the noir style, nolan uses the notion of memories as the ultimate antagonist of the films’s universe. memories are banned to be used as resource, in order to create a panorama inside the film’s world. where in “sunset boulevard” the audience takes a tour among the protagonist’s memory to recreate his world, inception identifies memories as the forbidden fruit: the urgency to draw the distinct difference between the dream world and “reality” is constantly stressed by its protagonist. like a ying and yang that needed to be together but clearly apart: the existence of this harmony can only be broken by making such difference blurry. no longer clear which one is which. a clear case of this is the film’s last concluding moments, they will be in fact the reason of many debatable arguments among theorists in cinema/psychology classrooms worldwide :)        

on l'avventura

l"avventura by antonioni

QUICKIE RESPONSE on L'AVVENTURA: 

L'AVVENTURA what it starts with the search of a mysterious disappearance, unwillingly turns into the traverse of two lover's journey. the film richly explores the unusual circumstances of two adults that attract each other; unfortunately, they must put aside their feelings in order to search for their missing friend. L'AVVENTURA is a romantic triangle where the common link is completely absent. Antonioni remarkably presents an ITALY seen through the eyes of 1960's Italian rich society. the scenery is photographically beautiful. every landscape is a panorama that depicts an adventure lived by a capricious society. the film is both adventure and an affair, since the tittle plays its two meanings with an amazing level of detail. this is Antonioni's style: an exploration/critique to an urban world through the eyes of the wealthy class. Monica Vitti is genuinely the role model of the1960's ITALIAN drama, on which AMERICAN leading ladies of cinema takes notes from.

on kickass

saw KICK ASS and here's my critique

to start with, for anyone that hasn't seen the film yet, let us get the word out there clear and loud: this is not a comedy. it has cleverness, crispy one-liners, and a satirical approach tot he world of superheroes, but it's not a comedy. 

i learned it the hard way. i was expecting a style of teen to adult comic situations in the same tradition as SUPERBAD has established already. 

it is a genre where fresh faces and people too close to real down to earth, and forgive my word "losers," characters narrate a day in their lives. 

the "losers" films as i will call them, it is full of dynamic situations that approach story telling from a perspective not told before: the side of the supporting characters. and that's what it is. previous protagonists are animated by individuals that are either cool, handsome/beautiful, or exceptionally special in some way or another. the "losers" genre came to shake the movie standards and show a reality that exists everywhere, which is the fact that interesting people are not necessarily cool, popular, rich, pretty, or special. Interesting people can also be those that remain on the background quiet, alone, and conformists. hence the support character no longer sits back, but outshines the protagonists: this is the "losers" film genre. 

KICK ASS approaches the audience with such reality that outstanding characters can also be "losers" in their daily lives. heroes are made out a need to stand up for a conviction: this is the case of these young superheroes. they stand for an ideal to keep the streets safe. the matter is touched with such a sense of reality that embarks the viewer through an experience that both entertains and interrupts: a sense of defamiliarization is born. 

I was up for the ride and enjoying the clever dialogue until, the hero gets stabbed. it is at this point where i clearly began feeling detached from a character that i totally cared for. not because kick ass is one dimensional character, but because i am reminded that this is a story about an adolescent, not quite a teenager, but a boy caught up in between boyhood and teenage. and yet this boy faces a world full of pumping violence where only THE WATCHMEN will be able to exists. and it is what such hyper-violence reminded me of. i could also mention KILL BILL because of the beatings and slicing. so how come i was able to enjoy those mentioned films without feeling detached? for the simple reason that both films are driven by a cast full of adult characters. 

KICK ASS succeeds in making me root for the good guys; it engaged me to the point that i actually enjoyed for the first time in a while the acting of nicholas cage. what i can't seem to accept easily is the inclusion of kids in such a violent world where there"s no superpowers, magic, abilities, or fantasy to support them; it's this same fact that makes me detach from the characters that i like, but i cant approve the decisions or even the defamiliarization that they show for death.

on god of war

on GOD OF WAR3

gow3 left me breathless visually and action speaking. what happened to the story though? 

the first and second game were brilliantly plotted and had a narrative/execution that kept me to the edge on every corner. even the psp version had an amazing plot rich in story. 

for some reason, i even thought that the previous games were only the tip of the iceberg in terms of story; i expected more from gow3. it amazes me why the production didnt focus on concluding the trilogy by going deeper into the greek mythology or hero tragedy. there was so much thread that it could've been used. 

for example, why not reveal kratos geneologic tree. we already know about his revenge, killer/soldier past; we are aware of his guilt. why not learn more about his blood links to the gods? they only "unclearly" mention that kratos is zeus son; surprisingly, kratos doesnt seem curious or upset or even bothered of the how and when did that happened? 

reading into olympians origins, i read something quite remarkable that i thought the gow makers were gonna use for the conclusion of the sequel. it involves the birth of kratos mentor, athena: her birth is surrounded by lairs or myth and discrepancy. among the olympians pantheon, she is the most peculiar and interesting to observe because is full of tragedy and triumph at the same time. 

without going into detail, we all know she was born from a titan and zeus. fates told zeus for the first time that the cycle of son overthrowing father will continue. zeus out of fear did the same thing that kronos did, he swallow his pregnant wife. time passed by, and the pregnant titan gave birth inside zeus body: athena was born and nurtured inside his father. when she reached adulthood, zeus had terrible migranes that became worse with time. being a god, he was invincible by any mortal weapon. he asked hephaestus to craft a holy weapon capable of cracking zeus head open: they succeed, instead of blood light bathe in fire made way for a full grown shield&helmet armored athena: the discrepancy resides in the occult myth that athena's mother was still pregnant with another child that was too weak to fully be nurtured and grow inside. 

gow makers could've used this intricate story and make kratos that unborn child that out of fates play, it'd finally become to life to carry on its destiny;and this it would've truly put a solid backbone to the trilogy's conclusion.