The Slutty Adventures of Emma Watson's Character - who may or may not be real - featuring Occasional Commentary by This Guy

Perks of Being a Wallflower was, well, um yeah. Perhaps we should rename this film "The Slutty Adventures of Emma Watson's Character, featuring Occasional Commentary by This Guy".

According to a friend who has read the book, Sam's past gets mentioned but isn't a huge focus of the book. But boy, is it ever a big feature of the film! 

HANG ON JUST A MINUTE! Did I actually get through this entire film with this little niggling feeling, only to realise several weeks later that there was something so very annoying that I forgot to mention? Let's resolve this then (and I'll even put it first). Why is it that this film (and by extension, book) depicts the only way of having fun to get stoned and drunk with randoms? Yay I have new friends, I'm going to get so wasted I won't remember even getting home, let alone talking to these people! Why is it that there's no alternative to the 'get wasted' solution? Because talking to people sober is such an AWFUL thing. This bypasses the fact that Charlie has legitimate mental and physical health issues, and presumes to teach the audience that the best way to fix these things is to get wasted, despite the fact that this might be one of the worst things that he could do.

Also, is it just me or are the times he spends with his friends outside the parties also played out as though they are hallucinatory episodes? The way the camera and the editing jump around in the dance scene, at Rocky Horror; the impossible-to-find-did-we-ever-really-hear-it tunnel song; the bit where Charlie zones out and says what he wishes he could say during truth or dare...these things make it feel as though he's wasted all the time, and that the things he experiences are little more than hallucinations he concocts in order to get him through his hellish high school years. In which case he's even more mentally damaged than the film originally gave him credit for and he should probably get some serious attention.

Also, why does he only ever wear the suit? Does he have NO OTHER CLOTHES now that he has a suit?

Moreover, does nobody else think it's creepy that he's a freshman (year 9, therefore 13) and these girls he dates are seniors (year 13, 18)?? Hey yeah I'm off to uni but I love my boyfriend who's turning 14 this year?!?

Also, maybe it's because the director is a writer and not a director, and writing a book doesn't mean that you can direct a film, but the pace and beats of this film were all over the show. There were some really beautiful bits - the typewriter, the snow angel, the tunnel - but they were offset by a friendship that felt VERY rushed and forced.

EDIT: I think that because the writer is the director, he was too close to the content - I feel like he skipped over bits that would otherwise have been important to the true feel of the characters. Also, I worry that he thought, 'Hey I've got Emma Watson, let's really use her', to the detriment of the story. Sam shouldn't have been the biggest focus of the book, and I felt like I got far more of her character than I ever did of Charlie's./EDIT

I felt like Ezra Miller carried the other two; his performance was convincing and I felt like he had a character, in the whole, well-rounded kind of a way. Logan Lerman was just 'the main character, who occasionally says something, but mostly gets stoned and looks shy', and Emma Watson (bless her hotness) was the slutty one with the almost-but-not-quite American accent.

Also, NOTHING is resolved. Nothing. I don't need my movies to take me by the hand or lead me around by the nose; I'm quite capable of putting the pieces together by myself. That said, this film resolves nothing. All of his friends leave at the end, leaving him alone in a school that he's clearly still afraid of, he has no other friends remaining, he's just gotten himself into a safe state of mind and he's happily in a relationship, but oh wait she's gone somewhere else and now he's back where he started. Hmmm.

I feel like this movie had a lot to live up to, from a book that touched so many people (though thanks to Whitireia's publishing class, I will always remember it as the Book with the Bad Blurb). I feel like it wanted to be so much more, and that a few key lines and great moments (truth or dare, anyone?) were making the script seem way better than it turned out to be. I've watched a few interviews to check, and it seems as though all the actors love each other so much that they want it to be awesome, but...it's just not.

Yes I didn't get the major plot point until about halfway through too, which I liked. I felt like that bit came out very naturally. Rethinking about this and the MAJOR PLOT POINT SPOILERY BIT doesn't actually serve any purpose at all. I can see that it's probably a big thing in the book, but I can't understand its purpose.

I wasn't that fussed bout the way it was shot - I feel like he should have listened to his DoP and his editor more (or perhaps that was the best they could do, who knows). There were some very genuine bits, but I think it tried so hard to be this monumental coming-of-age film, but it couldn't quite figure out how to go about it.
I think the support cast was really good - Charlie's dad, his teacher, even the brief shots of Lynskey (Kiwi mention!), but I feel like Alice and Mary-Elizabeth(?) were very 2 dimensional. Sometimes I even wondered why they were there.

That said, very much liked the truth or dare scene, even if the end of it did shy away from character development. 
I think the support cast was really good - Charlie's dad, his teacher, even the brief shots of Lynskey (Kiwi mention!), but I feel like Alice and Mary-Elizabeth(?) were very 2 dimensional. Sometimes I even wondered why they were there.

Skyfall: Because women don't need to actually do anything

I said I would write a review of Skyfall, so I shall. Firstly, thanks to Elly Morris for taking me in for freesies. I did enjoy the movie, though there are things that bother me about it.

Good: 
It ticks all the Bond boxes. I know that it was the 50th anniversary of Bond recently, and this film definitely tips its hat to Bond fans everywhere. There are references to previous Q gadgets like the exploding pen, Bond uses a Walther PPK with DNA responding grip like DAlton did in a previous film, there's the Bond car (Aston Martin DB5 - don't worry, I looked it up) which turns up for the last getaway, there's a massive Final Battle duel where Bond is left without a gun and must McGuyver his way to success etc etc.  


It was directed by Sam Mendes. This is the same chap who did Road to Perdition, Revolutionary Road and American Beauty, so when I say this film is pretty, I mean, PRETTY. This is a director who knows about cinematography and lighting, in more ways than the typical Hollywood director. There's a gritty fight in a room full of glass walls and doors, with both Bond and enemy silhoutted against neon signage and a neon jellyfish animation that moves across the background. The scenery is beautiful; the fight brutal and quick. 
Javier Bardem is brilliant. He makes such a good bad guy because he's not the typical I-hate-everything-and-am-grumpy-all-of-the-time antagonist. He's happy, he's light-hearted, but he burns inside and wants everyone else to burn as well. 
Bad:
Failed the Bechdel test pretty bloody quickly. Also, casual overtones of racism and sexism, anyone? Like the audience is supposed to think, "oh, it's okay, because it's a Bond film". Let me be clear: racism and sexism = never okay. And yet...we have Skyfall.
Bond girls: does anybody remember the rather terrible Xmen: Wolverine? And how all the characters in that film essentially existed to tell Hugh Jackman how to get from point A to point B? Well, that's what the women are like in this film (save M, but probably only coz she's old), except with sex. The sex in this is so casual, it's weird. Like if you were walking to work and you met a friend you saw on the street, so you stop and have a quick chat to them and then you keep walking to your original destination.
That's what the sex is like!
     "Hey, we're both in the same room, and you're a man, and I'm a woman, let's do this thing . . . okay I'm going back to plot now." I kid you not.
     "Hey field agent who shot me, howsit? I'm not dead after all." "Hey that's nice, sorry bout the whole shooting you thing" *an hour of movie passes* "hey field agent, when did you get to China?" "Just now, specifically to shave you."
     "Hey field agent, you know what's erotic? Shaving."
Whaaaaat? And then she's just gone (after a visit to a gambling den, those gambling Chinese).
And at the end of the film, Bond actually asks her what her name is! You've been on two, maybe three missions with this woman and you never knew her name? How much time did  you spend together? How many times do you introduce yourself?
Actually, some of the characters did exist simply to get Bond from point A to point B. "We need you over there now. Here's a passport." "Where am I going?" "To kill that guy that we introduced to the plot specifically so you'd have a reason to go over to China." Even Judi Dench, who should in theory be the best actor in this film, does nothing but whinge at Bond. I demand a strong female character!
As much as I love Javier Bardem, I must point out that the whole twisted, tortured camp guy trope gets old quickly. It's like watching a Disney movie. Like he's Jafar, but blonde and with a hatred of sticky toffees.


Also, it did the Return of the King thing, where you think it's going to end, or you think that this will be the last shoot-up - BUT WAIT - there's more! I had to go to the bathroom quite close to what I thought was the end of the film, and I was thinking, I'll just get my flatmate to tell me how he died, but I came back and he was STILL alive.

Bonus points for spotting some of the more obvious continuity errors. There were some cheesy uses of the Bond theme, as though we needed an aural cue to realise that he was doing something badass and impossible for anyone that isn't Bond. Also, I spent half the movie wondering where I knew Q from, and after IMDB-ing him, I'm still not sure.

Gods, don't see this. Because what it does well, well, it doesn't do much well. Also, if you want to beat substance addiction, just go to China. Unless you have a gambling addiction, in which case, well.

I give that three noms, as in "om nom nom nom".

I have fixed the camera! Somehow it seems to believe that there are photos there when there aren't and it claims that all the memory has been taken up by these ghost photos (which I hope are at least of ghost cats), and then claims that my current photos are actually of different things than what they show me.

But I seem to have fixed it to the point where I can bombard this blog post with photos. Some of my photos have gone walkabout, so more will come when sunshine returns. Lots more photos of my overwhelmingly-ginormous i'm-going-to-go-triffid-like-and-take-over-the-whole-garden zucchini plant.

But it's only little in this picture.

See? Little. It's probably 6x the size of that now. And the courgettes are appearing . . . just after I got my mum addicted to courgette bake. Aha!

More gardeny photos, and then some cooking photos.

The wee capsicum plants. Because of our considerable lack of summer, they still haven't borne fruit.

Rocket! Still going strong and so very, very tasty.

More parsley than Buquebus the bunny would know what to do with.

We also grew some cherry tomoatoes. They don't last long. As soon as someone spots them, they're outta there. Om nom nom.

The toms with a few radishes from the garden. They were about as long as my thumb, but fatter. Like a fat person's thumbs.

Coriander, rosemary (the upright-growing kind), basil, mint, strawberry leaves that fail to grow any strawberries (except for that one that I wasted on the cat, who ran away in fear), pak choy, and some strange indian herb also populate our garden.

And now for the cooking. I have learnt well, from my Mumsie counterparts, and am making lunches at home. I feel so good when my workmates are chowing down on Wendy's burgers and chicken nuggets and I have luau with rice and home-baked muffins.

Obligatory empanadita shot!

All for me! (But not really.)

Not the best shot of me, but look at them buns! I made them all by myself, the slow way. Who needs a breadmaker? I put them in the hot water cupboard. Also, my Tshirt is neato burrito. They are tasty goodness. I am planning on making them for cake club in April when it is my turn (right before Easter), so this was my practice run. It was a bit scary at first, because the mixture wanted to take over my hand at one stage and wouldn't let go, and then it seemed to be taking forever to turn into dough. But I got there. And now I am going to eat the little buggers for giving me so much trouble.

This is grilled halloumi. I found a great recipe for a salad to go with it that is a mix of sweet and spice: tomatoes, red onion, capsicum, mint, parsley, lemon juice, chilli flakes and olive oil for the salad, and smoked paprika on the cheese. I am having it for lunch tomorrow, so we shall see. Perhaps I'll make myself a toasted sandwich as well, just in case.

I've picked up Jessie's habit of photographing everything food- or plant-based. With less hills to climb, less walking to do in general, and the vast majority of my time in the office, I am putting on weight (believe it!). Must exercise if I am going to continue to eat all of this food. Made luau for lunches too. And pumpkin soup and spaghetti bolognaise are in the freezer too. It's a good week, food-wise.

This one is for you, Jessie

My first post in almost a year. And it's about gardening. Haven't I come a long way?

I have recently left a very Mumsie flat, which means there was plenty of gardening, cooking, baking and knitting there. I have moved up to Auckland to work fulltime at Trends Publishing (interior design magazines).

So naturally, my flatmates sent me off with a kit full of gardening gear: pop-up vegetable garden, gardening gloves - children's size, trowel, and seeds (baby carrots, spinach, cauliflower and radishes).

Today I got to work.

Here I am with my loot. We stopped by Plant Barn (of which I am now a cardholder), and picked up some marigolds (natural pest repellent), stakes (for the already present tomatoes), capsicum, rosemary and pak choy plants, as well as some courgette and rocket seeds.

The tomato plants! Freshly staked and ready to grow upwards . . . instead of everywhere else.

The soil is in . . . now for the baby carrots. Also, check out them gloves.

Pop-up garden bottom left: baby carrots, spinach, caulis and radishes. Netting down to keep cats off. First tyre on the left: zucchini seeds, and a marigold for friendship. The second tyre holds capsicum, which also have a friendly marigold. The little black pot on the right holds oregano seeds.

Mint, basil and strawberries.

Rocket seeds planted and rosemary ready to go - and it grows upright!

The aftermath.

Right. Everything is planted and ready to grow. Get to it seeds.

You've Got Money, You Donate!

This is some pretty nonsensical logic. I mean, what the hell? As if this social scheme wasn't unfair enough already.

I suppose that you can guess already that I once again made the mistake of watching television news. I always think that perhaps it'll be good to catch up on the day's/week's activities, but no, it's always just a mishmash of talking and only-slightly-related-but-not-very-helpful The only difference between New Zealand's TV news is that TVOne remains nostalgic of the time in which they were BBC-influenced, and TV3 tries to be fresh and hip and liberal and then forgets what each of those words mean right before they go to air.

Somebody in New Zeaand apparently complained, once upon some time ago, that television news would be "just like radio, but with pictures." Well that would be accurate now, if the news was short and concise and informative like radio has to be. Instead, television news has become farcical. It is just a story, albeit a poorly constructed story, about whatever they feel at the time is the most important item of the day. However, because they are in so much competition with the opposing channel, they tend to just report as much as possible as fast as possible.

Occasionally, things won't even make sense from an editing perspective. Yes, Brisbane/Queensland are in strife due to flooding. This is something of which I want to be informed. Tell me what you've got. Except when what you've got is some nobody staring at the camera saying "Oh no! My precious persian rug! Gone forever!" over and over because you have actually run out of decent footage and information. And upon realising that you have dragged out this segment of non-information for about five minutes now (which is ages in news time), you quickly flick to your anchorman and let him say the equivalent of "Oh, yeah, there's some flooding in Chile and Brazil. Lots of people are dying. But look at this dog we found, it's no bigger than a teacup!"

So I despise television news. So watching it is pretty silly, but every now and then I hope for something better. I no longer have access to sky tv, though that's not to say that international news stations are not just as ridiculous as our news stations here.

Anyway, what I saw which bothered me so, was the what I am going to call "The Celebrity Donation Situation." It sounds like an episode title from The Big Bang Theory, but unfortunately nothing so witty follows. Now I have so many issues with celebritydom, but here's the latest one.

Why is it, that when there's a huge disaster that endangers a large amount of people, why is it that some celebrity with millions upon millions of dollars at their disposal pops up on television to ask us regular joes to open our pockets and give generously?

Especially when said celebrity is most probably getting paid for the task of asking?

You have millions of dollars, you donate! You could give ten million dollars, more money that I will ever see in my lifetime, even if I live for one hundred years and have several generations of very successful children! Not only that, but that ten million dollars wouldn't even make a dent in your bank account.

Yet you have the audacity to ask me and my fellows to donate? I usually give what spare change I have to people on the street asking for help whilst waving buckets at me furiously. I am no miser. But this is just rude!

Though I suppose what gets me even more is that in these situations, celebrities like to hold auctions for stuff they've worn/used/chewed and ask us to bid for the item, with the highest bid being donated to the charity/country in need. So not only do they get positive publicity, but they don't even donate any of their money! They donate ours!

Also, with so much money, why do they wait for a situation like this to arise? Why don't they make giving a habit? Why is it that they only ever "donate" during a crisis (some select few excluded)? I mean, I figure there's only so much you can buy, before shopping gets boring.
In saying that, I don't like shopping as an activity anyway, but still!

It bothers me. Considerably. More than TV news bothers me.

Also, on a side note while I think of it, does the Cancer Society seem like a strange name to anyone? To me it sounds as though they support cancer, like the Aged People's Society supports elderly people. At least the SPCA were careful enough to add an important word like "Prevention"! Surely the Anti-Cancer Society would be better?

I Have Returned

I am back in Wellington.

I have moved into this itty bitty flat in Newtown, which is very clearly a house that has had some identity issues in the past ands thus decided that it would be better off being two separate flats, rather than one disagreeable house.

There is a door that leads to a tiled hallway, which leads to a carpeted hallway *ahem* lounge on your right. The three little bedrooms come off that. Jessie's is the middle one and is the tiniest. It fits a bed, a free standing wardrobe and a set of drawers. Which she then has to climb over in order to get to her door due to a lack of floorspace. I discovered last night that the walls are thin, so I am glad I brought earplugs. The kitchen is bigger than everything else, probably bigger than all of our rooms combined. It's impressively unnecessary.
That said, I'm paying $90 a week to live here, so I expect it.

Soon I shall be knitting. I don't know how yet, but I know it'll be taught soon. The other two flatmates do so we shall see. We have 20GB of broadband *woot*.

I have inexpliacable anxiety, but I suppose that's to do with having a considerable lack of money whilst needing to spend more of it; trying to fit into someone else's routine; trying to find my own routine and from having a considerable lack of sleep. Hopefully it will pass.

Studylink is pretending that they don't know who I am, despite several years of giving me loans and allowances anyway. Silly Studylink. Albeit, they have now started sending me my mail electronically, thus saving some of those trees that would be destroyed due to their needing to send at least two of every letter. That said, they promised they would email me when I have mail to check, but they don't.
Of course.

I am going to try and accomplish things today. Starting at 12pm, when my bed arrives. Until then, I shall try to keep my anxiety to a minimum.

Stop, in the name of the law! Or I'll wag my finger at you and give you a stern warning!

What's all this fuss about police chases?
Why are the police getting told off for chasing Stephen Hohepa McDonald? I accept that someone's husband/father/son/brother died (Halatau Naitoko), but it's not exactly like it was all their fault.

The officer in charge of the pursuit (Inspector Willie Taylor) waited an appropriate amount of time in order to find out for certain as to whether a gun was involved or not. If he hadn't waited and it was later disclosed that the guy had a gun and that the police did not take the proper steps to account for this, the officer in question would be in way more hot water than he is currently.

Crazy guy runs from police. What should the police do in this situation? What would any logical person charged with securing the safety of the public do in this situation? They chased him. It's not a bad thing; it's what we expect them to do. You run from police, you get chased. It seems simple, doesn't it?

Crazy guy gets loose and gets out of car and runs off, carrying gun, likely threatening anyone in the vicinity, definitely threatening the driver of the truck he tried to hijack. Cops make a decision as to whether or not they take him out. In fact, the Armed Defenders Squad make the decision. A calculated decision, I'm certain. What happened to the poor bystander was an accident.

I know we look for reasons when horrible things happen to people we love, and we want someone to blame, but dragging the police through a pointless inquest for something that wasn't really their fault? That's unfair. Somebody is going to pay for this - and I'll bet nobody points the finger at the criminal who fled.

I accept that Naitoko's family want to blame somebody and I do not begrudge them that. But I think that the government or whoever is putting this bollocks in motion is not thinking it through very clearly. Also, one (ACCIDENTAL) kill versus restraint that would have allowed the guy to run wild in the crowd with a gun? I know the one versus many argument is tired and may not directly apply to this situation (I mean, they should have shot the crazy guy, not the bystander). That said, I think hell could have broken loose had they said, Hey, this chase isn't working out very well. Should we just quit and go home? Yeah, sounds like a plan. The community will be fine. The gun-wielding criminal who's hopped up on drugs surely won't attack anyone else today. Nah, they'll be fine. Let's go home.
Like that would've worked.

Accidents happen. It is unfortunate but they do. Stop hassling the police for doing what we expect of them. Though I bet some people are wishing they hadn't made such a fuss about giving the police tasers.