Tsunagu: Until the Break of Dawn
About mediums who bring the dead back to life for charity. And the dead ain’t the ones with unfinished business—it’s the living who seek the help of our “connectors,” Aiko and her grandson-slash-apprentice, Ayumi, to bring the departed back for a few hours. Rules are: both the living and the dead can only meet once and with no one else, the dead may turn down requests, and the connection only works when the moon is out and until the break of dawn.
This was based on a novel that the author won an award for but I just wasn’t as affected as I wanted to be. It didn’t have that hopeful but heartbreaking, tear duct-shattering impact Okuribito (Departures) had. The three stories/cases in Tsunagu were about people who blamed themselves for one thing or another and revived the departed just to quench their guilt. To go on living, they must settle things with the dead. It’s not a bad thing but the whole thing fell short for me. I expected something about how connections outlast the finality of death and moving on. Verdict: watch Okuribito instead. Ooh, and Colorful.
An Adventure in Space and Time
The creation story of Doctor Who and the legacy of the First Doctor. Though it also works as a standalone movie, I think. If you’re a fan of the series, let me warn you: this movie deserves a Tragedy tag. Keep your pillows close and your Kleenex closer.
The Brothers Bloom
Stephen and Bloom are con-brothers. Bloom (Adrien Brody) wants out of the business but Stephen (Mark Ruffalo), the mastermind of all their cons, convinces him to play the “vulnerable anti-hero” one last time. The scam: dupe money out of the eccentric heiress, Penelope (Rachel Weisz).
This is good movie but quirky enough for me to hold back on recommending it to everyone. The cast is great, the story is funny, tragic, romantic, and the treatment feels like Amelie. Verdict: take a chance?
There has never been anything like Nick Joaquin’s voice—literally. Whenever friends recall the late National Artist for Literature’s words, they launch into an impersonation that’s so spot-on it verges on the uncanny. “Darling (pronounced daah-ling),” they would say, breaking into a growl that’s sweet and improbably loud. It sounds like Joaquin is speaking through that person. It’s a voice that thunders through the years. It echoes through distinct points in our history. That voice—explosive, garrulous, unforgettable—made Nick Joaquin immortal. <READ HERE>