The Last Candle

The Shacknews '05 White Elephant has been received! Details, pictures, and commentary over at the Shack.

Yesterday’s gushing over the Korean film Oldboy carried over into today, even though I had to relent the disc back to its owner. “Did you know they’re remaking Oldboy for the US?” he said as I sadly handed the package over. “Sean Penn is supposed to be the protagonist.” <p/> Wait a second: Remaking Oldboy here, already? Hollywood is fairly redux-happy these days, but usually there’s a fair elapse between the remake and the original that constitutes one facet or another ripe for renewal. So when did the original Oldboy come out, then? 1966? 1980, maybe? Early Nineties? <p/> None of those, of course: Chan-wook Park’s film was released a modest three years ago, in 2003. <p/> Hollywood sure didn’t waste any time to put their fat, grubby paw in the celloid cookie jar for this one, did they? Ridiculous sequels such as Jurassic Park 3 and 2 Fast 2 Furious while almost completely lacking any cinematic significance (besides an afternoon wasted) were at least, well, new. Not the case with Oldboy, which after a brief three years has already been pegged for a complete do-over — American-style. <p/> But Oldboy is still very much a recent film. Since 2003, Oldboy has not been outdated by the passing years or fad or technology, nor in the elapsed time does it preach an obsolete creed, social commentary, or otherwise dated message that could benefit from a modern translation. Oldboy doesn’t have flat-shaded, gaudy CG, or a mediocre synth soundtrack, nor does it lack modern editing or cinematography. Oldboy has the basics, such as excellent performances and an interesting, involving plot, down pat, and it is, by all means and details, completely modern. <p/> Hollywood probably sees two things in the Korean Oldboy: A highly original concept already laid out in full, and, even with Tarantino’s advertising, low domestic achievement in the box office, allowing a remake to be seen as a completely new, fresh idea this side of the Pacific. Add a couple of big name actors — Sean Penn! John Cusack, potentially, as the antagonist! — increase the cursing tenfold, put in car chase or two, and the film industry’ll most likely end up with yet another glowing ingot of USA box office gold. <p/> And, most likely, just another reel of utter crap. Here’s hoping that the remake will pay homage to the Korean original instead of paving over it, or that we a “re-imagining” akin to John Carpenter’s The Thing and the Howard Hawks’ classic (and not akin to Burton’s Apes remake). However, considering precedence and the recent record coming out of the studios, I have zero reason to be optimistic.

Last Thursday, my co-worker from across the cube-way, knowing I was a bit of a anime fan, dropped by to see if I’d seen Kung-Fu Hustle (which, as his reason for asking me, is vaguely anime-ish). I had, and a discussion ensued about our opinions on recent foreign flicks: Hero was well-directed, but too full of itself; House of Flying Daggers was decent; Howl’s Moving Castle was goofy. <p/> “What about Oldboy,” he asked. “Have you seen that?” I hadn’t. <p/> “Oh, man. One of the best movies I’ve seen in recent years. I’ve got the DVD — I’ll try to bring it in tomorrow.” <p/> The man, true to his word, delivered the DVD on Friday, and earlier tonight I finished the film. Verdict:

<p/> Although it originated in South Korea, Oldboy reminds me most of the dark-dry humor and kinetic, brutal thrill of David Fincher’s Fight Club. Fight Club rode the top crest of the wave for heavily-stylized and brillant direction and is extremely well-paced, constantly intriguing, sharply explicit, blackly humorous, vibrantly acted, a good heaping of intelligence and gravity, and, finally, edgy as all hell. This Fight Club is a favorite movie of mine. <p/> Now, about this ole’ Oldboy. Oldboy does all of the above that Fight Club accomplished so thoroughly — and does it better. Oldboy has about the equal of Fight Club’s amazing direction, under the keen hand of Chan-wook Park as opposed to Club’s Fincher, but Oldboy is almost more violent, more disturbing and explicit, better acted (although it’s not difficult to beat Mr. Pitt at that game), humored as dry as autumn leaves, and consists completely of one riveting — and disturbing, or shocking, or adrenaline-fueled — scene after scene. And Oldboy comes with a gleaming, serrated edge like a doctor’s bonesaw. Heck, Oldboy even has a mindbender of an plot twist as the finale, popping the previous two hours’ perspective on its head. <p/> Oldboy is just plain awesome. <p/> Just to show you what kind of song Oldboy sings, here’s the first twenty minutes of plot: Oh Dae-Su, the lead character, is kidnapped and put in a cell that looks like something out a 1970’s home decor catalogue. He is given no outside contact besides what’s on his television and the hand that delivers his food through a slot in the door. He bides his time by punching the wall, watching cooking shows on televisions, and writing down in journals the names of everyone he’s ever wronged as personal penance. <p/> Every several months, music begins eminating throughout his small room, and a thick gas enters, inducing sudden sleep. When Oh Dae-Su wakes up, his room is clean, his hair is trimmed, and his clothes are mended. Any injuries Oh Dae-Su sustains that cut him deeply enough to cause a blackout — as he steeps in despair, suicide becomes a near thought after several years, as does self-immolation — are expertly mended when he wakes up. <p/> After six years in the room, Oh Dae-Su begins tally-tattooing the number of years he’s been in the cell onto his wrist. After eleven years, the room almost starts to feel like home, but the tick marks continue to add up just below his palm. <p/> On the eve of the fifteenth tattoo marking, the music comes and the gas swirls…and when Oh Dae-Su wakes up, he’s laying on the grassy roof of the building right across from his original point of kidnap. He’s adorned in a new suit, new shoes, a shiny new watch, and soon acquires a wallet of money and a cellphone. The calls start coming into the phone, and Oh Dae-Su beings to exact revenge for the past fifteen years. <p/> That’s just the first tenth of the film — the rest of the two hours don’t let up any fraction of an iota. <p/> I liked Fight Club. And now I really, really like Oldboy.

So I’ve been buying bookshelves lately as a goods means of — get this! — organization. Yes, it’s true: bookshelves are quite handy for the purpose of putting things on ‘em and off the floor, table, coffee table, and TV, not to mention off the kitchen counter, toilet seat, washing machine, and out of the racks in the dishwasher. (Your milage may vary, but we’re all driving on the same road here.) <p/> The first bookshelf came in, and while the price was pretty low (which is the real reason I have a new bookshelf, I suppose), it’s made out of real wood planks (read: not particle board) and has a lovely finish. Feature-wise, it’s packed to the brim: three shelves for stackin’ and organizin’! So excited was I about the construction of the shelf and the consequent roll call of all my books that I set aside a Saturday afternoon just for putting everything together. A date of sorts. <p/> But like many dates, Part A just would not fit into Part D. What I had was a bookshelf that was 75% completed; one of the shelves’ screwholes were entirely missing, making that last 25% just out of reach. Making new holes was a possibility, but I’d have to make them with the drill I didn’t own, which was…somewhere. Anywhere! The date was off, and all I got was a lousy handicapped bookshelf that leaned to one side like perspective with a bad attitude. <p/> Called the handy-dandy number on the four-step single-page construction instructions; spent about two minutes on the phone; and four days later I had the extra part. And it fit this time, meaning that somewhere in the screwhole-drilling factory where this thing was made was cog pulling its weight. I’m satisfied. <p/> But upon finishing furnishing the bookshelf, I found out that the bookshelf couldn’t hold all of my books without falling back to the dreaded habit of piling books on top of the already-shelved ones. This would not do, so the contingency for the extra books was either A) scatter the books across the apartment in some sort of intellectual Hansel and Gretel ritual, or B) get another bookshelf. Proper organization is no fairy tale, so I placed the order for another ‘shelf. The new kit was received the other day, and Sunday was the day — advent of the grand four-shelver! <p/> Except for this bookshelf, not only did Part A not fit into Part D again, but Part B didn’t fit into Part C. Another date ruined. <p/> And another call was placed to the manufacturer, and another set of parts was pledged to be shipped out. And I’ve got another Dali bookshelf for a week. When this shelfing unit goes up, I’ll have three planks of beautifully varnished wood laying around for practicing my freestyle carpentry on with the hammer and nails I don’t own. <p/> On the other hand, if I keep buying bookshelves and keep getting bad pieces, maybe enough bad pieces will be garnered for a a whole new bookshelf — and maybe the pieces’ll all fit! <p/> Perhaps I should check my horoscope more often.

…And then there’s this certain video starring the guys from Blind Guardian, which features a lot of…well, wackiness, really. Precisely the way I’d always thought power metal band members acted outside of the studio! <p/> For an example of the wackiness, check out this cap from the all-German video displaying a fight late in the movie between Hansi and some other dude that’s seen wearing a crown while he smashes and rips apart VHS cassettes (demo tapes, or music videos, perhaps):

Those are plastic swords and shields; Hansi, for some reason, has an additional plastic sword super-taped onto his dirty, ragged vestments. <p/> Could this footage be something similar to a pre-production ritual for the Bards, similar to what majestic metal troupe BAL-SAGOTH enacts prior to recording? Here’s a primary source referencing the words of Sagoth’s Byron from an older interview:

4. How did you prepare yourself for the recording of “The Power Cosmic”? <p/> WE ABSTAINED FROM SEXUAL ACTIVITY FOR A FULL MONTH BEFORE ENTERING THE STUDIO, AND FLAGELLATED OURSELVES WITH WHIPS IN ORDER TO WORK UP AN ARTISTIC FRENZY. WE ALSO WENT OUT REGULARLY TO PICK FIGHTS WITH STREET GANGS TO HELP NURTURE THE CREATIVE PROCESS. ONCE IN THE STUDIO, OUR CREATIVE PASSIONS EXPLODED AND WERE CHANELLED INTO THE CREATION OF “THE POWER COSMIC”.

I don’t think the two methods of preparation — fighting with plastic swords versus a good roughing up of riff-raff — reflects upon the musical tone — at least, in Blind Guardian’s case, it doesn’t.