May 10, 2012
Bean and the old days
I know there's a long list of movies I must see before I die and as a fan of films of various genre, (though I really stay away from horror for the sake of my own sanity and just to keep the lid of my paranoia tightly sealed) I should oblige myself to the deed, but I think I just don't have enough time.
I can say that I have seen a fair amount of films, especially for the past two months of being a homebody, I just have the abundance of time to pop in a movie or two within my very steady day.
However, my taste in films coordinates with my general taste for everything. I don't bother to follow what is new or hip, I realize long after that they are actually cool when the rest of the universe cannot be bothered anymore to turn their backs and see the 'new' thing I found.
In short, I'm not a fan of the mainstream. Well, not so much I suppose because I still get bothered to check them out if they ever reach me. I'm not locking my doors to anything, unfortunately, I just really move at my own phase.
I get interested in things which to my standard has become interesting. I presume I don't view the world as interesting even if it's presented to me in a such a way that everybody is screaming praises about it and I'm already being branded with hot iron as 'bland', 'ignorant' or 'blind' as I wouldn't acknowledge it.
Unless, I am persuaded.
I'm fairly simple to persuade given you know the right buttons to press. Stubbornness is also one of my secret qualities, though I won't impose it on people; others usually notice it in due time and they leave me in my own world, thank you very much. Though mixing these two characteristics together awfully delivers me into a state of confusion easily, as well.
Uhm, where was I again? I believe I was chattering away about myself again there. Err, backpedal to the topic of films, old films to be exact.
I'm thankful for my parents to be loving of Hollywood films and American programs as I think I owe my proficiency in English due to constant exposure to these materials. While my knowledge in English is not highly technical, I was able to start a short career in ESL because I can talk with a discernible accent and able to converse away. On the other hand, I'm not sure I understood everything that I was exposed to when I was younger.
I remember my father watching The Godfather one afternoon and an invitation to snuggle on his arms was opened to me and I was very, very welcomed to watch the violence with him. I recall staying for a few minutes until the film got boring for me and I left my father to his viewing pleasure. Now that I think about it, perhaps watching The Godfather might be a good idea now as I would finally understand why the characters on TV were so keen on firing bullets—at each other.
There was also this funny and a little bit squirmy incident one night when my mom and I was idly browsing the channels for a good program. She stopped midway in pushing the remote button when the drama's title The Bold and the Beautiful flashed before us. I quite recall my mom's eyes twinkling with curiosity while I argue (as much as I could, I was 10) that she should not watch it as it was not good for me! For a ten-year-old, the word "bold" was scandalous and browsing the dictionary was tedious. Anyhow, my mother, as always, got her way and told me to bugger off to sleep, of course as gently as she could; cooing me to not mind the title while explaining as much as she could that the title had nothing to do with naked people. It turns out there really was no "bold" in the drama, no naked people, just "bold" as in aggressive characters who constantly make out, make it a habit to steal each other's lovers or destroy each other's lives while sparing a room—and time—to have coffee or dinner once in a while before they are at each other’s throats again.
Hah, amusing.
Why are those American afternoon dramas seem to be always in a dream-like photo filter? Everyone and everything glows, shot with a vintage camera and taken inspiration from a Dianna?
Well, anyway. Recently I've completed the download of The Nanny episodes, spanning of four seasons. I still have seasons 5-6 to hunt on the internet when I get the time. It seems kinda stupid that I am so in love with this show now (starting two years ago when I was able to catch reruns in the Hallmark Channel) when I thought it was really, obviously corny during its Philippine airing. Turns out, I was just too young to catch the joke or I was still inept at the art of sarcasm which my favorite character, Niles, so eagerly and masterfully exercises to the likes of C.C., or well, to everybody. Now I have to catch my breath back after launching to fits of laughter every time I watch this show because I find it so damn funny. *tears*
And to what brought me to this mouthful of incessant blabbing is the movie, "Bean". Yes, the movie version of the hit British comedy show Mr. Bean played brilliantly to icon status by oneRowan Atkinson.
I think it was one of the films I watched with mom and found it really, really hilarious to the point of slapping each other's arm because we couldn't contain our laughter. Which goes to say I understood the content of this movie (not that there's so much substance to digest) and enjoyed it even though I was only…nine? Ten? Well, I appreciated the humor at least. After more than a decade, I had the chance to stumble upon the movie at HBO the other day and I just crave to watch the whole thing again (couldn't finish the HBO version, had work). So I got the copy and had the exact reaction the first time I watched it.
Fantastic feeling. It's like reliving a very happy memory.
You see, I'm not the kind of person to re-watch a movie or a program from beginning to end, but I did so for this movie. I had my favorite part and I could've skipped there, and now I'm glad I didn't. At the latter part of the movie, Mr. Bean as a representative of the National Gallery of England and impossibly mistaken as an art scholar, was summoned to give a speech about the celebrated painting of America, "The Whistler's Mother". Of course most of what he said was not of scholarly language, yet touched on a rather solid ground of the heart:
"Why was it worth this man here? Spending 50 million of your American dollars on this portrait? And the answer is, well, this picture is worth such a lot of money because it's a picture of Whistler's mother. And as I've learnt by staying with my best friend, David Langley, and his family, families are very important, and even though Mr. Whistler was perfectly aware that his mother was a hideous old bat who looked like she had a cactus lodged up her backside, he stuck with her and even took the time to paint this amazing picture of her. It's not just a painting. It's a picture of a mad old cow who he thought the world of, and that's marvelous. "
Now, the last of that speech certainly was ruled out by mind by the comedy all these years! I found something new from this movie. And I don't give a toss if people think it's silly since it's from Mr. Bean, because I was touched by that thought.
That thought, that possibility of someone being by my side in the future who would accept all my faults and ugliness, even if I turn out looking like a mad old cow too, as long as that person would love me unconditionally and stay with me nonetheless. Now there's a picture of human love. Sentiment? Yes, I'm quite good at catching it and exaggerating it.
Hmmm...so now I wonder what new things I would learn from those books and films I have gone through before. It's just so amazing that one learns new things from the old and vice versa. Though some would think that's an obvious case, really, it's a fact easily missed when you're not experiencing it.
And now I rest my case. Happily starting on my "The Nanny" marathon. 8D
Posted by miyuchi on May 10, 2012 at 06:34 PM | Add a Comment
