Ferris Bueller, You’re My Hero

The first time I saw Ferris Bueller’s Day Off in its entirety, I was 11. I had caught a glimpse of it before when it aired on Nick that one and only time. It was the scene when the Ferrari goes through the window. I thought it was hilarious, and my giddy 11-year old self was teeming with amusement and regret, for not having watched the whole thing. I waited anxiously for it to air again, but, strangely, it never did— on Nick, anyway.

In retrospect, it was pretty odd for the kids channel to broadcast an 80s movie in the first place, considering its target audience. I think a lot of people I know discovered it then, though, so thank you, Nick, for the anomaly in your programming. I can’t imagine how different my life would have been.

Nick’s sister network, Vh1, eventually aired it a couple of months later [and about a hundred times after]. Of course, I watched it and with so much enthusiasm, too. I had waited for it for so long, and I wasn’t about to miss it for anything.

I remember “staying up late” to watch it. This was back when I slept at 9PM…. This was a long time ago. I digress.

And so I watched it, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. 

I thought it was the best thing ever.

The trio’s shenanigans put the biggest smile on my face. Their moments of compassion brought warmth to my heart. And the end, the end, was the wisest thing I had ever heard in my eleven and a half years of life.

Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.

Oh, movies, was this our meet-cute? Because I think I fell in love with you then and there.

You gave me an adventure in an hour and 40 or so minutes. I don’t think I will ever stop being amazed by that, by you and your magic.

I’ve always had a hearty interest in movies, but it was Ferris Bueller’s Day Off that opened my eyes. It was then that film became my passion. I wanted to make films for a living, for a while that is. I wanted to give the same feeling of adventure, joy, warmth, and wisdom to other moody, livid, and hormonal pre-pubescents dissatisfied or bored with present life. 

I began exploring the great depths of cinema to satisfy my passion. Naturally, I found more complex, more “mature”, some would say “better”, films than the great Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. And I agree. There are so many better movies, artistically speaking, but I can’t help but hold Ferris Bueller near and dear to my heart. So much that I stayed up until 3:30 in the morning to finish it on HBO and then profess my love for it.

It’s kind of silly for me to stay up this late just to watch it when I’ve seen it countless number of times before to the point where I can recite whole dialogues and when I have the DVD to watch any time I please. 

My love for this film, or film in general, or anything or anyone in general, surprises me sometimes. Exhausts me, too. Loving something this much gets tiring, but it’s the best feeling in the world.

Dear movies,

I’m sorry I spazzed at you the other day. I know I’ve been neglecting you almost the whole summer, and I’m sorry. I should have known better than to disregard our relationship because you bring me happiness—and occasionally, tears but the good kind.

You allow me to escape into another world when I need it most. Even when I don’t, you open your doors anyway, and in return, I open my heart to you. Every time, I exit that world, bursting with a torrent of emotions. Even when you leave me scowling or crying my eyes out, I’m filled with a sense of wonder for being able to feel so much for something that, in reality, is completely unrelated to my existence.

But it’s time to live my own life now. Because I can.

These characters to whom you constantly introduce me don’t have lives that continue beyond their run time. Their fate is concluded at the end of the film. Sometimes, I imagine that their lives go on, that there is more beyond the surface. This is perhaps what draws me so close to you, movies, but there are a number of people whose run time goes on far longer. Their emotions run deeper than I can imagine. They act on their will. Their intentions are their own. They are present… in my life. Much like so many other things.

Even though I can’t go to the French Riviera to catch a thief, I can go to the next neighborhood and attempt to break into a house with one of my best friends. There’s no train that will take me to Hogwarts, but I can ride the metro to a rundown city whose beauty can’t be truly captured in film since Hollywood isn’t what the movies portray it to be. No one is drawing a whole landscape on my forearm, but my summer can go on longer than 500 days. I can’t ride my nonexistent plutonium-powered DeLorean to 1955, but why would I want to do that?

Like Marty, I’m pretty sure I’m capable of undoing my existence. I like my existence.

I like the lack of clean air around me. I like the flowers that have no scent when I stop to smell them. I went running this morning, and I desperately wanted to take a flower in my hand regardless of whether or not it smelled nice. Just the feeling of its petals on my palm is more than enough. I took a breath and looked at the houses around me, houses that are prettier than my decrepit apartment. I realized that this— the smog-filled air, the shabby building I call home— is my life. It’s so easy to forget to live it.

I’m tired of seeing my life as a movie, as something to be observed. I have to live my life now. I have to give my time and effort and love to those around me. I have to bask in my own surroundings.

But, I can’t ever let you go, movies. This world you show me becomes a part of my imagination, a part of me. All these places, things, and people let me find happiness in them, but you, movies, let me find happiness in myself.

I thank you. You never fail me.

Love,
your snarkastic movie geek.

A little about books and bookstores…

With books and bookstores going obsolete, it made me realize our posterity’s misfortune. Sure, it’s much easier for them to get their hands on a novel. With just a few clicks, you have yourself a new story in the palm of your hands. I see the appeal, but books will forever hold my heart.

I just finished reading The Great Gatsby last night/this morning, and I have this feeling that I got more emotional at the ending than what was intended. In the past days reading The Great Gatsby, I’ve familiarized myself with the characters and developed some sort of special bond with them, especially with Gatsby. His fate just brought me to tears, and Nick’s unwavering loyalty at the end broke my heart. A gust of emotions just blew me over, and just like Gatsby, I didn’t want the book to come to an end.

I went to sleep, clutching the book in my arms, hoping that it will stay with me because this book has become my friend. It has become a part of me, a voice in the back of my head. And while that sounds alarming, I find comfort in it that I have so much love for it.

This is how I feel in general about books. The book cover is a gate protecting the world inside. Unlock the gate, and a journey awaits you in the next hundred pages, two hundred, three hundred…. Lose yourself in the forest of words, filled with thrills, passion, terror, laughs, tears…. Holding a book in my arms is like holding a whole world, completely separate from the one I’m living in now but is vaguely familiar.

And to walk into a bookstore…. It’s so overwhelming to be surrounded by so many little worlds. Shelves and shelves, one after the other, stacked high overhead surround me to hold a myriad of portals.

Kindles, iPads, Nooks, and all the others are merely photographs. It’s all look and no touch. I can’t immerse myself in the feel of the paper. There are too many little worlds stuffed into one lifeless rectangle. I can’t get lost because I don’t even know where to enter.

It’s such a shame to think future generations would never experience that feeling of opening a brand new book and hear the spine crack ever so slightly and catch a whiff of that new book smell. It’s a pity to think they would never feel so small amidst towering bookshelves.

After opening that door, I can stay up all night. I let the words guide me and my imagination carry me until there’s no tomorrow.

But there always is. And when it comes, I just open the cover and step inside.

Education? What education?

I read the newspaper today, and not just the Calendar section this time. I actually read the sections with the current events. That really depressed me.

California is drowning in the budget deficit affecting the whole nation, and education is suffering probably the worst because of that.

LAUSD, for example, the second largest school district in the country, has laid off thousands of teachers and slashed both summer and adult school. The foreign language department is facing some serious cuts because apparently it’s not a “core” class. My Spanish teacher, whom I don’t like that much but I’ve made peace with, received a pink slip because 1) he didn’t have a seven-year seniority and 2) he was a Spanish teacher.  The seven-year seniority is used to determine which teacher should stay or should be riffed. It doesn’t even consider how good the teacher is at doing his job, and my Spanish teacher is a great teacher— kind of a bully, but still great.

My English teacher, in contrast, is one of the worst teachers I’ve ever had. She is also the head of the English department. The only thing I like about her class is that we’re reading books, but the work we do…. I used to love English; I had the opportunity to write not just essays, but short stories and poems. I suck at writing poems, but when I was pushed to, they came out great. Now I feel like I’m writing bullshit, yet this teacher is not riffed. Everyone in my class hates her with a passion because she does not teach. Her past students came out of her class not knowing how to write an essay and having only read one book Yet she is not riffed.

All those other faculty members, the school board, are supposed to ensure that the school accomplishes its goals. Every month they hold a meeting to talk about just how well their plans are working out. And by that, I mean they don’t do anything. Seriously. I’ve been to two of those faculty meetings, and I wanted to rip my hair out. They don’t do ANYTHING, and I’m sure they’re being paid for not doing anything. Yet they are not riffed. 

Another testimony to the floundering education system of California is the rising tuition for public universities. Both UCs (University of California) and CSUs (California State University) severely cut admissions, with CSUs so much that several schools are halting admissions in the spring semester of 2013. UCLA had only a 7% admission rate for the upcoming school year, around the same as Harvard. Harvard, an ivy league, private university, having the same admission rate as a public university.

I just read in the paper today about the Santa Monica College incident. Yet another instance where police had to use pepper spray to disperse a number of disgruntled students. The students were protesting against summer school fees that reaches about $540 per class for California residents. Many students take classes needed to transfer to a university over the summer, and with the rising costs, it makes it much more difficult to do so. Of course people would get pissed.

Education seems to be more and more privatized. If only all these politicians know how crucial education is to the future. Limiting education, and basically knowledge, to a select few would be detrimental to the future, to say the least. 

Instead of cutting funds to education to compensate for the excess spending, why don’t the politicians close those little loopholes, and there are a lot of them, that exempts high income earners from taxes? I know that’s such a typical liberal solution, but education has suffered too many budget cuts. And this generation, who had absolutely no control of all of this, is suffering because of it. Something needs to be done.

Otherwise, we’ll all run to Canada because that’s, apparently, everyone’s exit plan.

Just thought I’d put it out there,

I actually enjoy writing these reviews and whatever else I write (when they come out right), and it means a lot for whomever to take the time to read them. I just wanted to say thanks.

Movies and I haven’t been on speaking terms lately

With everything that’s been happening in the past month, I’ve been neglecting my relationship with movies, going for weeks at a time without spending time together. Like a few of my other friends, I’ve pushed movies away since it’s been making me cry way too much. It’s A Wonderful Life is so depressing now, and I’m horrified at any death scenes. I found comfort in some new friends instead, my pillow, some Wilco album, and the Great Gatsby.

I didn’t mean to push you away, movies. I’m glad you came back to me, especially in the form of my Goodfellas blu-ray. Oh movies, how I love you.

Staying up late and thinking of It’s A Wonderful Life

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The Purpose of Art Is To Be Seen

I guess I understand production companies’ concern with receiving the proper profits for their work. But I hope they understand that if it wasn’t for the internet and online piracy (such a harsh term), their work would get so little recognition.

Think of the countless number of bands, movies, shows, etc. that would go unnoticed if it wasn’t for the internet.

Take British shows for example. Every time I look through my dash, I see so many people obsessing over Sherlock and Doctor Who. Most of them live in the US, and since both of those are British shows, it’s kind of hard to watch them without watching them online. I don’t know how people watch shows anymore without megavideo since I don’t watch much shows or movies online. I’m a snob when it comes to the quality of the image; I’ve been spoiled by HD. But I digress. Sherlock and Doctor Who, even though they receive a lot of critical acclaim in the UK already, found an even bigger audience overseas, and from what I can tell, they’re as big as Glee.

That was an exaggeration. I don’t watch those shows, but I assume they’re better than Glee.

Watching older or relatively unknown movies is easier online, too, especially now that video rental stores are nearly extinct. I know that that was a result from all the movies being pirated, but they’re dead already so might as well move on. And by moving on, I mean looking it up online.

The production companies’ defend their actions by saying they’re protecting art, but isn’t the point of making art to get your expression out there and recognized? I don’t mean to imply that all art have to be world-renowned, but art is there to be seen, at least by someone. The internet, or online piracy (I’d rather not use that term), allows for that.

Don’t get me wrong; I’m not condoning online piracy. I’m against it, but what am I supposed to do when I want an album but don’t have money or I want to see a movie but it’s not out on DVD yet? If I like it enough, I buy it when I get money anyway, and I’m sure I’m not the only one that does that.

I’m not condoning online piracy, but these production companies should really think this whole thing over again. I can just see it blowing up in their faces sooner or later. All the money they’re troubling everyone over will be lost along with fame and recognition for many shows, movies, and bands.

Who says movies don’t teach you anything?— The Ides of March

After watching The Ides of March, I’ve come to the revelation that I want a modest job. I’m in that point of my adolescence when I’m supposed to figure out what to do for the rest of my life. Right now, I’m just trying to find a major to declare for college, but that’s not the point.

I’ve been exploring possible career paths, one being political science, for reasons I’d rather not justify, and The Ides of March made me reconsider that (as it should). How naive am I to think being in politics can make a difference? Maybe it does, who knows? But, a career in politics, especially when it concerns a position as powerful as president (not that I’m striving to do that), is so intense, it corrupts people. I can’t do that. I can’t put my morals aside, especially when it affects so many people. I can’t even grasp the idea of how people have the capacity to do that. Just how evil does a person have to be to do that?

Maybe those people had good intentions initially, and politics just corrupted them, but it’s so sad to think that it’s all necessary to succeed. 

That’s why I want a modest job because I don’t think it would make me disregard my morals. At least I hope not. I would love work with movies, but even that can get corrupt because of all the commercial interests and all of that crap; it’s so hard just to be able to make something that you like. 

It really seems as if the only way to succeed is to be ruthless. 

It kinda makes you wonder why people go through so much trouble when all of this, an individual’s existence, is so minuscule compared to… everything that ever existed. 

I know I’m not the first to think this, nor is it the first it’s crossed my mind. I had an inkling of an understanding not too long ago, but when it hits you, it just… sucks. It’s all so discouraging and nerve-racking. I’m questioning everything I’m doing right now, when really all I want to be is happy. I think that’s what I want. No, I want everyone to be happy. Is that too much to ask?

It is.

Dr. Seuss’s The Importance of Environmental Awareness in Industrialized Societies

I’m sure many of you guys have seen the trailers/commercials for the upcoming Dr. Seuss’s The Lorax based on the children’s book of the same name. When I initially heard that there would be a new movie adaptation, I was excited since The Lorax is my favorite Dr. Seuss book, but when I saw the trailer… I wanted to throw a sharp object at the screen. Do NOT destroy this movie, Illumination Entertainment, or there will be another fire in Universal Studios.

The reason I’m getting so butthurt about this movie is probably that I love this book. It made me into the little environmentalist that I am today. Like all the other Dr. Seuss books, it had an important moral, and it was told through a story that rhymed. What little kid doesn’t love rhymes? 

But this new movie… why. Why would you change the story? Why can’t the protagonist just do some good for the environment for the sake of being a good person? Why does he have to do it for the affections of a girl?

Because that just wouldn’t get money. Kids wouldn’t be interested about a movie revolving solely on the environment, which is fine because they’re kids. However, what truly irks me is that it seems as if the studio only made this movie for money, not to educate kids about the importance of conservation. That is what the story is about. Not about romance and whatever else the movie will have.

Some people would say that the new movie actually does do that, but can’t the actual book do that, too? What is so wrong with actually reading the book? 

Or at least watch the original 25 min. long cartoon.

If the snot-nosed little kid can’t appreciate the book or the original cartoon, he doesn’t deserve to hear the story. 

I’m still going to watch Dr. Seuss’s The Lorax though, sooner or later, someday eventually. Just to watch it. I hope it doesn’t stray too far from the story because it’s such a wonderful tale. It would be a shame for for our future generations not to have knowledge of it.