At first, there was the web; then, there was a net; and then, there was the web again – only this time, I found myself trapped in it.
As children, we knew of the web only as a network of sticky fibers woven intricately by a spider with the intention of catching its prey. Then came the computers and the internet – technological marvels that gave birth to another web of fibers –this time, electronic – that was even more intricate and required uncountable eccentric spiders to weave it virtually in real-time. What purpose it solved and who ended up as food for the virtual spiders do not qualify as food for thought for me. I would rather sit back and enjoy the phantasmagoric spider-man weave webs of love and heroism on the movie screen and capture my imagination with his super-human animation acts performed with downright magnificence.
An outsider this far in all the web-logic above, I recently stumbled upon quite a bizarre revelation regarding our own social existence – the fact that we are mere cross-fiber junctions in the word wide web of contacts and acquaintances. And this realization gave me a feeling of being trapped in the web. Almost instantly, the meaning of the phrase no string attached became crystal clear to me. A simple mathematical formulation thus emerged - an individual’s presence is felt, in any socio-economic, cultural and political setting, in direct proportion to the sum of his weighted in and out degree in the famed web of acquaintances in addition to his own personal worth determined by the standard barometers of success.
This thought is rather unsettling. What if I want to make a mark for myself? I would require to make as many contacts as I can possibly manage, and way too influential ones at that, so that I can generate enough critical fuel mass in order to escape the gravity of ordinary existence. And even then, I will have strings attached. Given the above scenario, I am almost tempted to be not just any cross-fiber junction, but the web-weaving Spiderman himself.
The only problem being, I don’t know who he is. Any guesses?
September 14, 2004
September 08, 2004
Kill Bill
Awesome. I had been aching to watch the second installation of Kill Bill for ages, and now that I have managed to, I must admit that every minute was worth the agonizing wait. I am no film critic, but I can safely say that the movie epitomizes cinematic excellence. It is an intriguing flick for the simple reason that despite having a hackneyed storyline, it manages to enthrall you with every scene.
To give a sense of the credibility of the (hackneyed) storyline, consider the Crazy-88 in the first volume falling like dominos in a gusty windstorm that is The Bride - brandishing the unparalleled Hattori Hanzo sword majestically, with a monomaniacal resolve to avenge herself. A motif presents itself in the second volume when The Bride is shot at with a rock-salt bullet by SideWinder and is then buried alive with a flashlight and boots that conveniently conceal a pocket knife, all proving crucial aids to her eventual espace from the otherwise imminent death. Such uninterrupted run of good luck can be paralleled only by the Greek Heroes of yore enjoying immense favour with the almighty Olympian Gods.
Such serendipitous glitches aside, the popular critique of Tarantino's Kill Bill volumes being a montage of the spaghetti westerns and martial art cult classics is unfair to say the least, not because the Kill Bill movies are original, but because the essense of the originals doesn't seem to have been lost in translation (or inspiration, if you please). Magic recreated is Magic generated. The Pai Mei sequence, though appreciated by one and all as a comic and refreshing interlude to an otherwise gory tale of revenge, has evoked a sense of déjà-vu in many. I admit that such things have been portrayed with much élan in movies of the likes of Police Academy, but Kill Bill is, in no way, doing them any disservice.
The elements that make Kill Bill unique and memorable for me are the intelligent use of black-and-white sequences, the episodic style of story-telling clothed artistically as reading out of a book, the animated revenge drama that paints The Bride as a comic-strip super-hero, the thoughful camera movement that apes the bride's single-minded obsession for revenge, the entire setup of Deadly Viper Assasination Squad complete with all the characters and their portrayals, the mystical aids to achieving the The Bride's ultimate objective - the inimitable Hattori Hanzo Swords (3 at last count) and the divine teachings of Pai Mei, and of course, the screen-goddess - Uma Thurman.
The best sequences for me have to be - one, when The Bride has been buried alive and while she is struggling in the coffin, wailing in desparation, the screen goes blank and all we can hear is the soundtrack; and two, the final encounter of The Bride with Bill. I came across this interesting piece of opposition to the way the film ends eventually, and I thought it would be worth including the text here:
"The ending of the film is particularly weak because of this total lack of emotional involvement - the sudden requirement that we care about the Bride's situation is too much and just comes across as cutesy nonsense, likewise the actual manner of Bill's death will disappoint both those seeking emotion and action. Action fans will wonder why Tarantino ignores the rules of the genre he is aping and makes the death low-key; but it would have been a great ending if we had had better characters - if Bill had been someone we had gotten to know it would have worked much better. The ending is, fitting with the spaghetti western homage, very much like Fonda's in Once Upon A Time In The West, but his was impacting for the same reasons that Bill's in not."
My response - I couldn't have hoped for a better ending, and I simply can't explain why. You have to watch it for yourself. For me, an 8 month long wait added another dimension to revenge is a dish best served cold.
To give a sense of the credibility of the (hackneyed) storyline, consider the Crazy-88 in the first volume falling like dominos in a gusty windstorm that is The Bride - brandishing the unparalleled Hattori Hanzo sword majestically, with a monomaniacal resolve to avenge herself. A motif presents itself in the second volume when The Bride is shot at with a rock-salt bullet by SideWinder and is then buried alive with a flashlight and boots that conveniently conceal a pocket knife, all proving crucial aids to her eventual espace from the otherwise imminent death. Such uninterrupted run of good luck can be paralleled only by the Greek Heroes of yore enjoying immense favour with the almighty Olympian Gods.
Such serendipitous glitches aside, the popular critique of Tarantino's Kill Bill volumes being a montage of the spaghetti westerns and martial art cult classics is unfair to say the least, not because the Kill Bill movies are original, but because the essense of the originals doesn't seem to have been lost in translation (or inspiration, if you please). Magic recreated is Magic generated. The Pai Mei sequence, though appreciated by one and all as a comic and refreshing interlude to an otherwise gory tale of revenge, has evoked a sense of déjà-vu in many. I admit that such things have been portrayed with much élan in movies of the likes of Police Academy, but Kill Bill is, in no way, doing them any disservice.
The elements that make Kill Bill unique and memorable for me are the intelligent use of black-and-white sequences, the episodic style of story-telling clothed artistically as reading out of a book, the animated revenge drama that paints The Bride as a comic-strip super-hero, the thoughful camera movement that apes the bride's single-minded obsession for revenge, the entire setup of Deadly Viper Assasination Squad complete with all the characters and their portrayals, the mystical aids to achieving the The Bride's ultimate objective - the inimitable Hattori Hanzo Swords (3 at last count) and the divine teachings of Pai Mei, and of course, the screen-goddess - Uma Thurman.
The best sequences for me have to be - one, when The Bride has been buried alive and while she is struggling in the coffin, wailing in desparation, the screen goes blank and all we can hear is the soundtrack; and two, the final encounter of The Bride with Bill. I came across this interesting piece of opposition to the way the film ends eventually, and I thought it would be worth including the text here:
"The ending of the film is particularly weak because of this total lack of emotional involvement - the sudden requirement that we care about the Bride's situation is too much and just comes across as cutesy nonsense, likewise the actual manner of Bill's death will disappoint both those seeking emotion and action. Action fans will wonder why Tarantino ignores the rules of the genre he is aping and makes the death low-key; but it would have been a great ending if we had had better characters - if Bill had been someone we had gotten to know it would have worked much better. The ending is, fitting with the spaghetti western homage, very much like Fonda's in Once Upon A Time In The West, but his was impacting for the same reasons that Bill's in not."
My response - I couldn't have hoped for a better ending, and I simply can't explain why. You have to watch it for yourself. For me, an 8 month long wait added another dimension to revenge is a dish best served cold.
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