Day 38: Apr 5, 2012.
I watched Hunger Games alone. At the very outset, let me state that I haven't read the books. In fact, when I turned up at the theater I had not a clue of what the movie was about. The garish neons and violent clothes, I thought, distracted from the beauty of the plot, but I assume it was necessary in order to remain true to the book. The plot per se, was a bizarre heady mix of the Stanford Prison Experiment and God alone knows what else. My head was reeling for a while.
Then there was a precise thirty seconds window of hope, that you know, they'll have the poisonous berries and end it, and the districts will rebel, or whatever, and poof! Even that got taken away. It made me so sad. Later Sethi reminded me that two more movies are to follow. Weirdly, that made me sadder still. You have a beautiful, realistic ending, so keep it that way. Why do we need sequels to make it a done-to-death Harry Potter?
I'm dying to read the books so I know what happens next.
I usually enjoy watching movies alone, it helps me digest them better, formulate my opinions without consulting others, that sort of thing. This one disturbed me so much, and I had no one around me to distract me, I had to shop after to make myself feel okay.
Last night, I heard Valerie performed live. The last time that happened I was in an over crowded frat house being elbowed left right center, with a Bud Light in one hand and Jungle Juice in another, while the entire place was bouncing up and down to Amy Winehouse. The song brought back a deluge of memories. Now my beer is no longer free, I haven't stepped in a frat house in three years, and Amy Winehouse is dead. It made me briefly miserable. Then the band played Smooth Criminal and my spirits were back in no time at all. That was followd by crazy bhangra dancing too, the after effects of which my body is still dealing with.
The nostalgia's triggered a morning of blaring Winehouse and Dylan.
Good times, though short lived, because now I have finals to look forward to. Die.
Snevs.
I watched Hunger Games alone. At the very outset, let me state that I haven't read the books. In fact, when I turned up at the theater I had not a clue of what the movie was about. The garish neons and violent clothes, I thought, distracted from the beauty of the plot, but I assume it was necessary in order to remain true to the book. The plot per se, was a bizarre heady mix of the Stanford Prison Experiment and God alone knows what else. My head was reeling for a while.
Then there was a precise thirty seconds window of hope, that you know, they'll have the poisonous berries and end it, and the districts will rebel, or whatever, and poof! Even that got taken away. It made me so sad. Later Sethi reminded me that two more movies are to follow. Weirdly, that made me sadder still. You have a beautiful, realistic ending, so keep it that way. Why do we need sequels to make it a done-to-death Harry Potter?
I'm dying to read the books so I know what happens next.
I usually enjoy watching movies alone, it helps me digest them better, formulate my opinions without consulting others, that sort of thing. This one disturbed me so much, and I had no one around me to distract me, I had to shop after to make myself feel okay.
Last night, I heard Valerie performed live. The last time that happened I was in an over crowded frat house being elbowed left right center, with a Bud Light in one hand and Jungle Juice in another, while the entire place was bouncing up and down to Amy Winehouse. The song brought back a deluge of memories. Now my beer is no longer free, I haven't stepped in a frat house in three years, and Amy Winehouse is dead. It made me briefly miserable. Then the band played Smooth Criminal and my spirits were back in no time at all. That was followd by crazy bhangra dancing too, the after effects of which my body is still dealing with.
The nostalgia's triggered a morning of blaring Winehouse and Dylan.
Good times, though short lived, because now I have finals to look forward to. Die.
Snevs.
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