(500) Days of Summer

USA Today recently listed (500) Days of Summer as a hopeful Oscar (TM) contender, praising it for being a “break” from cliched-ridden romantic comedies that populate our screens. And given my predisposition towards romcoms, the redeeming value for the film was that it starred Zooey Deschanel and has continually been hailed as the “anti-romcom”. The fact that it’s an indie flick did not hurt either. It is that curiosity to see what an “anti-romcom” is like that brought me to the theatre last week.

Contrary to the title, the film is not set in summer. The ‘Summer’ in the title actually refers to the name of the quirky protagonist. In the classic romcom, it’s always a linear story about boy meets girl, girl falls in love (boy often doesn’t want to admit such an emotion exists), girl pines over boy, a conflict happens (or girl gets in trouble) and just as girl is about to give up on the relationship, boy comes around and admits to having fallen in love. All is well, they live happily ever after. Excruciating to sit through when you don’t believe in fairytale endings or you’re the one wondering why it’s always the girl who pines over the boy, and not vice versa. And (500) Days of Summer is all about the boy, Tom, who unabashedly believes in soul mates and true love, pining over a girl, Summer, who doesn’t. Simple as that; yet it becomes one of the most refreshing films I have seen in ages.

Dollhouse redux

Dollhouse isn’t for anyone who’s after instant gratification. Like other Joss Whedon shows, it pays to be patient and wait for the payoff. And what a payoff it is! Rumours of network intervention plagued the show from the early days, driving fans to fear that the show would be treated the same way Fox treated Whedon’s other short-lived scifi classic, Firefly.

The network intervention (that the first five episodes of the show remains standalone in order for people to catch on) was puzzling, considering one of Fox’s concerns was that the audience would find it hard to identify with the show when the lead character essentially doesn’t have a personality of her own. One wonders how standalone episodes would make people want to stick around and get attached to a show that looked and felt disjointed in the first 4 episodes. With such a unique premise, might not a story-arc be better off to establish the characters and the show’s seemingly existential query: you can take away someone’s personality, but can you really take away their soul?

Welcome to the Dollhouse

From 2008

Continuing the TV reviews, I’m moving on to new shows that are currently being plugged in the US. Ones that have TV buffs like me going all geek-crazy. A couple stand out remarkably, coming from TV auteurs who have given the world of television all-time classics in the late 90’s/early 00’s. But out of the two (Dollhouse and Fringe) I want to talk about the former first.

I’m a Whedonite by nature, having been a huge fan of all of Joss Whedon’s works – Buffy, Angel, Firefly – despite having a somewhat love-hate relationship with some of his creative decision on characterisation. But when word got round that Whedon is returning to TV through Buffy and Angel alum Eliza Dushku’s (who played rogue slayer, Faith) new show, Dollhouse, the TV geek world went into a frenzy. More or less. Whedon has stayed away from TV since the premature cancellation of his brilliant scifi western, Firefly, staying predominantly in comics (both the Buffy and Angel franchises are continued via comics). And with a lot of intelligent cult TV drawing to a close soon, this is definitely a welcome return.

The Time Traveller’s Wife – a lesson in futility

Our love has been the thread through the labyrinth, the net under the high-wire walker, the only real thing in this strange life of mine that I could ever trust. Tonight I feel that my love for you has more density in this world than I do, myself: as though it could linger on after me and surround you, keep you, hold you.

There were so many moments in the book which I felt summed up the love between Henry and Clare, but I chose a passage from the end of the book instead. Told in alternating points-of-view between Henry and Clare, the novel is an unsual love story that at times felt more scifi than your run-of-the-mill boy-meets-girl story. Suffering from a unique genetic disorder, Henry has a tendency to time travel, and often at the most unpredictable moment. But while he travels back and forth between his past and future, one thing seems to be his constant: his wife, Clare. So as an adult man, he sees Clare – as a child, a teenager, and finally when he meets her in their present.

It’s odd at times, when you remember that all the while when Henry’s travelling back in time as an adult man, he remains a constant in Clare’s life. At least in her childhood anyway, for when he’s gone, she feels the loss. While the child version of Clare experiences the strange apperances of the man she eventually knows as her husband, the adult Clare is left dealing with the loss and the fear. What would happen if her lover/husband never comes back from his time travels?

It certainly begets the question: knowing the futility of a love affair, would one still plunge headlong into it? Is there free will in love? Clare knew from a young age that the strange man who keeps appearing in the meadow behind her house as the man she will eventually marry. It’s almost like it’s been decided for her that she falls in love with Henry. That everything she does is a lead up to her meeting him and falling in love with him – is it still possible when she’s been in love with him since before she met him?

Sometimes, we need to take a step back

Friendships can be a blessing or a curse, and I say this with absolute honesty. It doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate my friends, but when you’re an introvert who constantly needs time away from everyone else, too much connection can be….deterimental to one’s mental health.

Unfortunately, only a handful of people understand that when introverts seek solace from the world, we truly mean we need a break from everyone, concerned friends included! It is not an ailment; it’s just simply the way we are. It also doesn’t mean that we characteristically expect our every action to be condenscendingly approved or affirmed by friends. My introvertism doesn’t mean I suffer from low self-esteem, or that I’m the sort of person who needs encouragement in all that I do. At times, I feel like telling friends that if you think this is the case, then you need to take a step back and really evaluate whether or not you can call me a ‘friend’.