Cheaps laughs at the expensive of cultural integrity

Media racism against Asian people never seems to cease or get noticed because they're small enough members of the large U.S. population and I mean their accents and costumes are funny, so they're asking for it, right? Ugh. No. So why is it that stereotypical and offensive images turn up just about everywhere and film producers, etc. aren't required to defend their choices? So much material for Bitch, please, the e-zine on minority Christine and I are planning.

Last night, I watched 27 Dresses. I had known going into the viewing that it would not be a great movie, maybe not even good, but that it would some frothy, light entertainment. I would get to laugh at some poor fashion choices and watch James Marsden. Within the first few minutes, I started to get out of film viewer zone. This movie was just so unrelatable and unrealistic and not interesting enough to make up for the other two aspects and have the fantasy be watchable. The film starts with Heigl traveling back and forth between two weddings she was picked to be a bridesmaid for. In the cab, she's able to put on and take off her sari. This is where critical me kicked in. I don't care about her "not wearing the sari properly" as people have previously said. I just refuse to believe someone inexperienced could get into full Indian garb while sitting down in a cab. That's fine though, unbelievable but not offensive.

The dialogue/imagery that got to me was a mockery of Japanese culture. James Marsden, who I've crushed on since he appeared in a terrible '90s TV show as a teen father, looks at a kimono hanging in Heigl's (Jane's) closet during a fashion show of her 27 supposedly hideous bridesmaid dresses and says something along the lines of, "What's with Benihana?" I've never been to that restaurant but I know from the Office that it's a chain Japanese restaurant. Saying that about a kimono is the equivalent of looking at a peasant blouse and making a snide remark about Taco Bell in my eyes, or insert your own ethnic dress with ethnic restaurant.

For a movie with few minority characters, other than the token Indians, the Benihana comment came off as totally intolerant. Heigl dons the kimono (which I happen to think is pretty) and does a little demure bow to Marsden's character. She re-enacts the whole passive Asian woman routine. There's also a brief flashback to the ceremony, where she's shown having to bend down low to be the same size as the rest of the women in the wedding party, you know cuz Asians are always so short. Arg. Even though this scene is no longer than 3 minutes, it took me completely out of the movie. Kimonos are beautiful and so was the sari she wore; I mean really, does traditional always have to equal backwards and ugly in the camera lens?

Along those lines, the Cheetah Girls in India film is slated to come out soon. I have to admit, I love that the actresses were flown on location and the film was supposed to be Bollywood influenced, and yet, in Disney documentary footage commercials, the choreographers were all flown in from America, not native to India. So, how is it that the movie is fusing cultures? More like mimicking. I secretly want to see this movie, only to poke holes in everything but I think no one educated of my own age would watch it, and the tweens who this film is targeted to just wouldn't understand how Cheetah Girls creators are just projecting their image of India upon India rather than actually learning from the culture. As I was searching for a photo for this movie, I ran across the Wikipedia site, from which I learned that the Indian love interest is played by an Ecuadorian American guy. Really? Can't Vikram be played by a legitimate Indian actor, especially since they went all the way to India for the Indians????? That vague ethnicness never fails to irritate me, especially when it's in a situation such as this, where I'm sure one could find a struggling actor in India (you know, the non-Bollywood art actors).

Speaking of vaguely Indian, no amount of money could give me incentive to watch the Love Guru. At first I thought the blatant brownface was going to get past critics and audiences who seem to accept all of Mike Meyer's crap (I'm sorry, I was never that into Austin Powers), but for once, Indians sprang into action, pointing out just how insensitive the film is. And critics too panned the film for being one-dimensional and disrespectful. I hope this movie dies quickly. The Love Guru also made me lose all respect for Ben Kingsley, the Anglo-Indian actor who went back to his Indian roots (despite his name change to make him appear wholly Anglo) for Ghandi, but was quick to ditch all of that for some quick laughs in this movie. OK so he doesn't identify as Indian, that's his psychological damage, but why does he get to choose when he can be Indian? And now, just to make fun of the culture he abondoned?

I wonder if I could get hired as an Asian sensitivity consultant on films. That would be amazing.

Pop culture commentary

So many I shoulds in my life. Whenever I'm surfing online or listening to the radio or watching TV (which is most all the time, except for when I'm reading or in an establishment other than my home), I always think about how I should keep a notebook of topics to blog about because so many things stimulate me but then I always forget about them.

Readers, before I start blogging some more I think I will demonstrate just how ADD I can be. "Baby Got Back" was on the radio so I had to drop everything for a dance break. As ridiculous as that song is, it does celebrate healthy looking women and I'm down with that. Oh, do I miss going out dancing . . .

Anyway, yesterday I discovered the free DVD collection at Rockford Public. I guess out of some nostalgia thing, I had been going to North Suburban, but they charge $.50 and at this stage of my life, that's just too much for a movie. I rented a couple of movies on my dad's card and you better believe I'm going back for my own so I can rent all the Sex and the Citys in order as well as introduce myself to shows like Queer as Folk or Degrassi Middle School.

I watched Elizabeth: the Golden Age last night. Cate Blanchett is one of my favorite actresses. She's one of the few people in Hollywood whose gorgeous and can usually act. It's usually one or the other, or in the case of most people in Hollywood, neither. Though sometimes the symbolism in the film was a bit heavy-handed, I would recommend watching it for her performance. She's fierce. And also, I think she was born for this role. Even though her personal life seems so different from the queen's, I think she's the only person with the power for this role. Elizabeth was also made by an Indian director, so that's kind of cool.

I Love the Millennium premiered this week. I should hate it; I wanted to hate it so much. But I don't. The series is like a familiar old friend, or a bowl of mac n' cheese. It just does not fail to entertain. The series has had some missteps (I Love Toys? The comedians who appeared on that show let it show that that installment was beneath them) but this decade hasn't let me down. That's probably because they are critiquing the recent, and I certainly can relate better to it than I Love the 70s. I wouldn't go out of my way to watch it, but if you catch it (which I'm sure you will if you have vh1 because it's always on rotation), it's good for a few laughs. vh1 is cheesier than ever, but I still return to it. Margaret Cho is supposed to get a summer show on the network, so you at least have to give them props for that.

Speaking of vh1, this month, they're highlighting Duffy. You know, the girl who sounds a lot like Amy Winehouse but doesn't look like a mess. I think she has an awesome singing voice but I hope she doesn't get too played out. I'd like to see her go on with U.S. success longer than this latest CD.

Yesterday I applied for a job with Imdb. Though it's not exactly what I studied for, who would better at that job than me??

Epiphanies

The last few days of my life have been interesting . . . Week 2 of loafing about the house is settling in. I've applied to a lot of jobs, but I feel like they are all high-volume, so who knows if I will hear back about 90 percent of the positions. I'm hoping RVC calls me tomorrow and tells me the copy editing test for the Fort Wayne, IN paper has arrived, so I can take it and feel like I'm a step closer on that process.

In another 2 weeks, my mom and brother are leaving for India, so I will have to learn to cohabitate with my father. I'm hoping that I stay strong on the job front, and get some hope as to a position that fits me, so I don't have to apply for some short-term secretarial positions. Something about being at home just makes me lazy and kills my creativity. Perhaps I should go to the bookstore with my laptop and write up a stack of cover letters? I just lack the mental energy to write them. I know what I want, but do I have the balls/courage/cheesy phrase, etc. to go get it? I don't want to look like this bum who had so much potential.

Anyway, two simple moments this week(end) caused me to reflect a bit on some life philosophy. The first thing that happened is a sad reflection of my family life. Friday afternoon, my brother and I walked to the Carlson Elementary School Park cuz it was nice out and why not? When he was young, we'd go there and I swing and he'd slide or whatever. This child was terribly afraid of swinging. I, on the other hand, love it. To the point that I still set myself down on a swing when I come across one. I love that weightless feeling at the peak of the swinging arch. The idea that you can lift yourself off the ground, power yourself to almost fly! If bungee jumping wasn't so damn scary looking with the heights and the equipment, I would do that too. Swings are a great place for contemplation as well.

But getting back to the post at hand, my little brother finally learned to push himself on a swing. At 15. Yikes. Now all he has to do is learn to ride a bike. I feel like these are things kids should instinctually be able to do at his age. But it just goes to show how my family can allow inadequacies to fester so we are more dependent on them. My brother was too afraid to push himself off the ground. On Friday though, he was too big for me to push. I left him alone. He learned to pump his feet. That's how kids need to learn. That's how I need to learn, even as an adult. I don't want that constant supervision, the constant cut-off to my growth. I know in India kids' personalities are pretty well squashed and they are super super reliant on their parents until they get married and WHAM, they have to learn it all themselves. But that doesn't fly with me. I like the gradual process.

You know, the transitions. Those can be beautiful, if executed well. (This transition that I'm in now is quite the opposite). And speaking of transitions,

here's one:

The highlight of Friday was my viewing of the Sex and the City film with some of my Auburn gals. I was never a huge follower of the show. I've only seen the PG-version on TBS and WGN and I know the abridged version doesn't quite capture the flavor of the original. And I had mixed feeling about the show too. The main characters are so spoiled, so self-indulgent. I didn't want to identify with them. I think if I watched the full series in sequential order though, I'd discover that they are mirrors of my own various insecurities and I'd be able to identify with the show better.

But the movie, that was identifiable. I might be the opposite of these girls, in my twenties and free floating, but their friendship is something I want for myself. This movie was not about sex but love and not man-woman love but rather, friend love. I need girlfriends such as these. Who are there for me in all the ways a man can't be. I think it's true that in college I was surrounded by girlfriends who could comfort my neurosis, adapt to my interests, and whom I could just plain have fun with. I didn't necessarily feel the absence of a lover in my life. There were definitely times I wished for magical coupledom, but it was usually to get out of awkward social situations. Now that I'm sans my girls, I feel that lack. I've become that girl who just wants a man. What I'm saying is not that I need a man (I do want one for comfort's sake and everything else, but still...), I'm saying I desire that beautiful, near-selfless relationship that Carrie and her girls have. I don't know how accurate that portrait is, but I'd like to believe it. I need me a crew that's there by my side with no cajoling, mixing me up some cocktails when they know my day has gone bad. SATC gave me faith that despite the petty squabbles, girlfriendom can be a true sisterhood.

So, for those who haven't seen it, I recommend seeing this movie with your girls (and throwing back a few martinis) and cementing your bond.

a fil(u)m review

Too often I find myself parked in front of my parents' computer monitor scouring mediabistro, ed2010, and journalism jobs for journalism-related job postings. Well, enough of that for now. I got a sickness from my brother - probably just a cold but feels more like a sinus infection-type of thing - and I can't find my glasses so the boards are just giving me a headache.

As promised yesterday, I'm going to write up a real film review. Of late, I've taken up recommendations of tv-on-the-net viewing and gone to sidereel.com and hulu.com for some entertainment catch-up. But I'm home now and that means my mother produces a new DVD nearly everyday from the ever-expanding media collection at the North Suburban District Library (or the Loves Park library). Sunday night after returning from a pleasant (for my family) trip to Milwaukee, we put Lions for Lambs in the DVD player. When this movie came out in theaters, there was a great hype surrounding it. I honestly thought the advertisements looked misleading, but various reviewers hailed the performances of stars Tom Cruise, Meryl Streep, and Robert Redford. Plus, the film was directed (and I believe co-written) by Oscar-winner Redford. This was a big star vehicle. I had no compulsion to go to the theater and I'm glad I didn't because this film is a waste of money.

If I was the sort of review who rated films of a scale, I'd generously give this one 1 Star. When talking about Lions for Lambs, I think you've got to use the term 'film' loosely. I'm about as liberal as they come but even I could see that this was just a piece of propaganda. And I think a different style of film making, most notably a documentary starring real people, would have gotten the point across a lot better.

Here are the messages I gathered from the film (and I'm gussying them up so they sound more eloquent than they actually came across): 1. The "War on Terrorism" is a government construction. 2. The (Republican) administration sucks. 3. The left-wing media is not so liberal. They're just government pawns. 4. The military system sucks because usually minority lower-to-middle-class men sign up and those of higher status can duck out. 5. A draft would be a more democratic system.

So like I said, I'm all about ranting to other people (especially conservatives if they'll let me) but this movie oversteps the boundaries. There is absolutely no plot to this film. The scenes between Streep's reporter character and Cruise's Republic senator are straight-up propaganda. Streep talks at Cruise and at the audience about the faults of the war. Cruise goes on and on about how the media has lost its reputation of being watchdogs for the people. The one aspect that actually pertained to my life Streep's conflict: should she compromise her values for her corporation's benefit? That's something that could actually affect me in real life, but I didn't buy that her character was a real-life reporter. We don't get to talk to senators like she talks to Cruise.

There's another part that deals with Redford trying to convince one of his promising students to "make a difference" by joining the war effort. Put his theories to work, so to speak. Their conversations are just as monologue-ish as Streep's and Cruise's. It feels like the director is just pontificating and none of the actors are reacting to each other. Plus this "plotline," if you could call it that, has nothing to do with the others. There's a third piece that seems thoroughly out of place in this movie: two men at war in Afghanistan. With the lack of action in the other scenes, their scenes stand out in contrast but the characters are left highly undeveloped. In short, the writers and director put little thought into viewer identification. If the point of this film was to anger viewers into taking action, one part of the objective has been accomplished: it made me angry. Though it was only an hour and a half at most, I felt like I wasted my night. There are so many other ways (mainly through identification) the audience could have been engaged enough to care, to take a stand.