The Justin Guber Institute

Seven Thoughts Before Bedtime

		Saturday, 04 July 09 - 04:10 AM (GMT +08:00) By Khairil Mokhzani Bahar in Brain Stew

Thought#1: The Tell of Seeing the Tell in Poker

Poker is often thought of as being the same as gambling, though the differences couldn't be further, depending on how you choose to play it. Gambling is a game of chance and odds, of probability, and in a casino the odds are never in your favor. A mathematical genius may be able to calculate the odds and make calculated bets in a game of blackjack, but at the end of the day probability is the only thing you have to calculate.

Poker, on the other hand, is different. True, there are the odds associated with the probability of pulling the hand you wish to be dealt and the hand that your opponent may have been dealt but good poker players, really good poker players, may never even have to see their own cards to be able to win a hand against a lesser opponent. This is because of the way one bets on poker - you bet against your opponent or opponents, and they in turn bet against you, and now you have a new factor to play with.

The human factor.

Body language, mannerisms, speech patterns and habits, all these and more become parts of the game. A good poker player will be able to spot whether or not someone has a good hand or is bluffing simply by looking at them, seeing how they behave when they bet or look at their cards.

Sometimes people have a tell - a small habit that gives away a certain action. For example, when a person is bluffing, they may scratch their head a certain way before making the bet. The person probably doesn't even realize he does it, but a good poker player can spot this.

My thought, however, is this - let us assume there are two incredibly good poker players playing each other, Mr. A and Ms. B. Let us say Ms. B has a tell that gives away something about how she bets. Mr. A will now know how to bet accordingly from Ms. B's tell, right? Well what about this - what if Mr. A has a tell when he notices Ms. B's tell? What if Ms. B notices? What does Mr. A do in this situation?

Who is more likely to win?

Here's another thought - what if Mr. A knows he has a tell? And what if Mr. A's fear of showing the tell is noticeable to Ms. B, almost like another tell?

The thought goes back and forth like tennis. In movies where poker is in the scene they always talk about the tell but they never explore it this far - it's always one person who has a tell (usually the bad guy) and the good guy spots the tell, full stop, the end. Tells are noticeable cues in body language, however slight, that a person may pick up on. Now, if you have two people who can instinctually notice each others tells, what happens? More over, what if the act of hiding said tells creates more tells?

Thought#2: Irrational Thought/Instinct

There have been many times where my instinct and my rational thought have been at odds with each other. My instincts may tell me A, thought my rational thought will tell me that it is most definitely B because logically it has to be so. Then in the end I discover that it was A all along.

This would make one think that I should just follow my instincts, correct? Aha, if only things were so simple. There is, in fact, another variable in the equation - irrational thought - and the problem lies when I cannot tell the difference between irrational thought and instinct.

The problem in differentiating the two lies in the fact that neither of them stem from rational thought. The best way I can think of describing the difference is that instinct is unexplainable yet irrational thought is emotional. I can't explain where the instinctive thought or act comes from, but I know that the irrational thought is driven by emotions, negative ones.

However, if the differentiation was so clean cut then this wouldn't be a problem. But often when instinct kicks in it is related to an emotion, though not triggered by it, whereas the irrational thought is triggered by the emotion. In both cases, however, there is a relation to an emotion felt.

This dilemma has been a problem many a time because there is often an action that needs to be taken based on whether or not I can differentiate between instinct and irrational thought, and often times my actions are based on one when it was the other all along.

Thought#3: Karma

In the words of Earl Hickey, karma is a funny thing. I must add, though, that it's only funny in retrospect. At the time itself when karma takes effect, the boomerang thwack of bad karma from past mistakes can often fill you with regret. However...

Thought#4: Moving on from the Past

...one needs to move on from ones past. The fact is so obvious, yet often so difficult to do. So many of the posts on this blog since the move from The Ballad of Justin Guber have either been about regret or about moving on from the past. I'm getting there, I think, but one step at a time.

Thought#5: The Yin-Yang

When I was a young teenager I was fascinated by this symbol - the simplicity in its design to represent a concept of equilibrium mesmerized me. As I got older, I began to dislike the symbol - sometimes you just wish the scales would tip to the good more than the bad. The reason why I was fascinated by it as a young teenager was because it gave me hope - that as bad as things were, they will equally become better, we just don't know the time line of when that will occur, but the thought that it will can give one a glimmer of hope, as it did me all those years ago.

Thought#6: Quotes

"For a crowd is not company; and faces are but a gallery of pictures; and talk but a tinkling cymbal, where there is no love." - Francis Bacon

That is the full quote. I was actually thinking of the first half of the quote (up to the pictures bit) which I associated with Short Circuit 2. When Number Five said that it always hit home. After I did a search on-line, I discovered the rest of the quote and who it was by.

What's funny is another quote that has always stuck in my head is, as it turns out, also associated with Francis Bacon:-

"Knowledge is power".

There was another quote that's always been stuck in my head, and it's always been paired with the "knowledge" one above:-

"Ignorance is bliss." - Thomas Gray

The Catch 22 of the two quotes put together makes it very yin-yang, doesn't it?

Thought#7: The Reasons for Blogging and Other On-Line Activities

This thought, I guess, has been around as long as I've been blogging. There've been a couple of posts about it here and in the Ballad as well already, but it's a thought that I always come back to.

See, when I was younger I used to have a diary and I'd write in it whenever I had a thought or whenever I was down and needed to put all those emotions somewhere. I think (though I'm not certain) the reason why I used to write in a diary, especially when I was down, was not only to express a lot of those emotions and feelings I felt at the time but I guess there was the hope that someday there would be someone who'd read it and understand, a kindred spirit as it were.

Right now, however, I'm writing in a blog, knowing full well that anyone can read it. There's also my Facebook account, which I regularly check and update with little goings-ons in my life in the status updates bit. I even have a MySpace and Friendster account which I don't use at all now.

But the fact that everyone can read it, that when writing here I know full well that everyone can read it, that there is an interesting thought - how much of that knowledge effects what one writes when writing a blog or changing our status update or posting a pic on-line? When we put a piece of our own personal life in a public venue such as the internet, be it event or thought or action, how much of it is loaded with an ulterior motive? How much of it is filled with the expectation that someone is reading it? Are they narcissistic endeavors? Do we crave attention? Do we hope it will trigger something?

Sometimes we write on-line in such a way that we manage to express a thought or feeling whilst at the same time giving nothing away - a public vagueness, as it were. The thoughts and feelings are there, but they're not. At least, not to the public eye. The words could be translated in a hundred thousand ways but only with enough knowledge of the persons here and now could you feasibly deduct exactly what the motivations are for writing the words in the first place, though even then you can never actually be sure and since nothing is truly explained the writer has full deniability even when one deducts correctly.

Why do we do this? And does anyone remember how we used to live and socialize before the internet was created?

These are the thoughts that keep me awake. G'night, everybody.

Ode to Kitty

		Tuesday, 30 June 09 - 11:24 PM (GMT +08:00) By Khairil Mokhzani Bahar in Brain Stew

For all my bitching and whining and emo-ing and criticizing, things have been getting better this past year. Jobs have been pretty constant, creativity has improved and life in general has been getting better. There have been downers, yes, and stepbacks too, but that's the thing - life won't be like it used to when I would go full steam ahead without noticing the world around me because the events that changed all that happened and there's no going back. Besides, as much as I miss those times, they weren't real. There were many things wrong which I simply ignored. Now the good and the bad come in equal doses, and I still haven't truly figured out how to handle the bad that well, but over time I'm sure I will.

And though she can't account for all the improvements in my life, Kitty has played a vital part, an important part. She's been my muse when I've been out of ideas, my sanity when I lose it, my comfort when I'm down and makes me smile when I frown. Though I know it pains her every time and sometimes flat out pisses the shit out of her and frustrates her, she's been there.

I can't describe how much I'm thankful to Kitty. True, there have been arguments and spats and flat out fights and sometimes she does drive me up the wall, but the good is so intensely good, her presence so welcome even when she's in a mood. I care for her in a way I haven't cared for someone in such a long time. An hour with her, some cigarettes and a cup of coffee is more enjoyable than five hours on a rollercoaster.

(Though I don't think five hours on a rollercoaster non-stop would be enjoyable for anyone, but you get the drift).

She's fun, she's kooky, she's intelligent and witty, she's super sexy and makes me smile by just looking at her. She's insane in ways that endear and insanely focused in ways that scare me. She's incredibly talented in ways she'll never know and more patient than she gives herself credit for.

She's also an infuriating pain-in-the-ass at times, but nobody's perfect. Why search for perfection in a mortal? And if you think about it real hard, perfection is boring.

I couldn't have reached this stage of my life without Kitty. Though there are ups and downs, I wouldn't give up the way Kitty makes me feel for all the tea in China.

(What the fuck would I do with all that tea anyway?)

I know my emo-ness and general actions are intensely infuriating for her at times and the last thing I'd ever want is to push her away. She's been a constant companion and a wonderful friend, and this ode has been long overdue.

Kitty, we salute you.

Down With Tha Sickness

		Sunday, 28 June 09 - 08:04 PM (GMT +08:00) By Khairil Mokhzani Bahar in Brain Stew

I woke up about an hour ago, around 6pm. I was supposed to see a play that I was looking forward to seeing but no, the pain wouldn't allow it. I am sick. Ill. Down with tha sickness and illa than Hillfiger. Fuck a duck.

Ever since 2003, it's been a regularity to have a hella-killa fever twice a year - once around the beginning of the year and once towards the end - without fail. Each time would cause a week of complete incapacitation. Last year and this year have been a bit different. I didn't get the usual twice a year fever last year and this is the first time I've had it this year. It's not as bad as the usual fever. In the past I would literally not be able to do anything, just sweat my ass off under sheets in bed trying to feel better, feeling weaker than watered-down lager.

But the past fevers were understandable. They made sense. I'd get ill, then get better. This one keeps going up and down. One minute I feel fine, the next I feel beyond fucked. Yesterday I thought I was finally getting better and even stepped out of the house, went to Urbanscapes and met some friends. Today? Fucked. Beyond fucked. My nose is stuffed beyond compare, my head pounding, and my body temperature? Everywhere on the scale.

I'm so out of it I'm not even sure what I'm writing or why I chose to write a post about this. I was sure there was a reason, or a punchline, or something.

Weirdness. Bad craziness. Moo.

This Is How I Remember Him

		Saturday, 27 June 09 - 12:35 AM (GMT +08:00) By Khairil Mokhzani Bahar in Geek-o-rama

 

In a white suit and fedora, singing 'Smooth Criminal' in the 'Moonwalker' movie (click the pic to check out the whole 9 and a half minute sequence).

I loved this moment in the movie. It brought about my love for suits, a love I carried on till I was in my early twenties and arrived in Malaysia where wearing a suit everyday was not a viable option. I loved the moves, the coreography, the coolness of it all and the song. That song was a brilliant piece of pop music.

Right now I'm listening to 'The Way You Make Me Feel' and I think about how much we all ridiculed the King of Pop, how he was such an easy target for the press. But just listen to one of his songs and it makes you realize one inalienable truth -

This man knew how to do pop music, and pop music hasn't reached it's heights since.

We live in an age where everything is designed for maximum catchiness at the shortest span of time, we are bombarded with imagery of the latest hip new trends in music and everything sounds exactly the same as everything else. Hell, even so-called lo-fi garage rock has been put through the corporate-homogenizer, pre-packed and survey-tested.

Michael Jackson's music was pop music that everybody could appreciate it. And it was original, it was fresh and it was exciting. Why do people sick of the current radio-friendly pop trends search far and wide for obscure music for them to discover? Because pop music isn't as exciting as it was when MJ was at his peak.

Whatever his sins, whatever his eccentricities, he will be missed and he will be remembered.

Acting, or Something Like It

		Monday, 22 June 09 - 02:00 AM (GMT +08:00) By Khairil Mokhzani Bahar in Filmmaking Frolics

Howdy, campers. Once again, I've been MIA for work reasons - in particular, working on 'Cahaya', the upcoming feature film written and directed by Johan John where I was a producer, a role I've never played before. But the post on my role as producer will have to wait as I'm not in the mood to write about that yet. No, what's on my mind are the other roles I've been playing over the past six months... as an 'actor'.

My first steps towards being a filmmaker were in acting. Drama was one of my GCSE's and around the same time I started writing scripts, both for the drama class as well as for my English language class where the teacher allowed me to hand in scripts for my coursework as opposed to the usual assignments.

In university, same thing - started acting first in the drama society as well as teaching improvisation before writing and directing two of my own plays.

And then, of course, there was 'Ciplak'.

Since then I didn't really get any acting roles. I remember when I wanted to play the 'supercop' in the terrorist episode of 'Ampang Medikal' that I was directing only to have the executive producer tell me I wasn't 'classically handsome' enough to play the role.

Directing the second series really took its toll on me, both physically and creatively, and so I thought for the beginning part of 2009 I'd chill for a bit from the directing side until I figured out something to write that I'd really want to direct, and in the mean time do more writing and acting. On the writing side, there were seven episodes of season 2 of Ghost which I also directed an episode for (which was episode four). On the acting side, things have been a bit more... varied.

Around January I got a call from a friend of Reverend Ed's who was directing season two of 'Hartamas', a series on NTV7. One of the actors pulled out and they needed someone within the next couple of hours to play one of the roles - 'a real rocker dude' was the brief I was given. I didn't have anything on and rushed over where they duly dressed me up like this:

(I blogged about this shoot after I did it which you can find by clicking here).

The episode aired recently and I caught it on youtube which you can find by clicking here. It's a slapstick sitcom with some soap opera drama in there as well. What do I think about it?

No comment.

What I will say is this - watching the episode made me think about the acting roles I've been playing this year and I'm not sure what to make of it, though I can say the feelings aren't positive.

After this I was offered a role on a friend's telemovie, 'Puaka Topeng Putih' (you can click the title to see the trailer though I'm nowhere in it) where I played an emo guy who's brother is accidentally pushed off a cliff by a bunch of girls and one year later I get my revenge by wearing a white mask, wielding a machete and walking very slowly.

Sound familiar?

To save money they got one of their interns to double as me for all the masked scenes and I just turned up on the days my character had lines. Wasn't much in the script for me to play with as an actor besides cry at a steering wheel after hearing that the girls, all at least a good foot shorter than me, pushed my brother off a cliff. Their reason? He ratted on them to the teacher.

After that was a role on season two of Ghost in one of the episodes which hasn't aired yet so I will tell you nothing for fear of the producers sending a SWAT team into my house to silence me before hacking into my main frame and deleting all reference to the role in question.

...shit, sorry. Been watching too much 24, got a bit carried away there.

The next role was a cameo in Johan John's movie 'Cahaya' where I played an asshole husband (pic on the right). I was hoping I'd get to cameo as a more interesting character but then again, I had a shit load of work to deal with as a producer so I doubt I'd have had time to put any work into a proper role.

Last but not least, there's the most recent role I've played which was in Jordan and Dique's short film. I got the call about it whilst I was still on the 'Cahaya' set, then when it was closer to the shooting date I found out what type of character I was playing:

An old religious man who catches two kids making out in a car and tries to stop them until an army of riot control police pop up from behind which is why I'm in the pic above on top of a car. This was probably the most fun to do, though a very weird choice of casting I must say. Never thought I'd be hired to play that.

Watching the 'Hartamas' episode got me thinking about all these roles - a stoned eighties rock drummer, an emo serial killer, a CENSORED, a jackass husband and an old religious man - tiny little roles peppered in with not much for me to really bite my teeth into and 'act' in. Sometimes it's the role, sometimes it's the script and sometimes it's just the way it is.

To be fair, all of the roles except for the short film one were for TV, which may explain why the short film was the most fun, but it'd be nice to do something where I can say "ok... this is gonna need more than just pulling a stereotype/archetype from out of my ass". I'd like to be able to do some theatre but doubt I'd have the time for rehearsals.

I'm not sure what to think of all this except that I'd really like the opportunity or chance to really act in something again. I know one of the simplest solutions would be to write something I could act in which I also direct, but here's the thing - the character I played in 'Ciplak' was one that was close enough to me for me to be able to pull him out at the drop of a hat. I wrote him that way because I knew I'd be playing him and I didn't want to be too swamped as a director. One thought is to write something for me to act in but get someone else to direct but I'm not sure what at the moment.

I miss acting. I miss getting into a character that's foreign to me, trying to figure out how exactly I should play it. I miss going through my lines, rehearsing, reacting to another actor and getting the ball really rolling in a scene. I miss that, and I hope I'll get to do it again soon.

And hopefully before I reprise my role as 'Gajah'.

Busy Beavers and Possible Nuttiness

		Saturday, 06 June 09 - 03:44 PM (GMT +08:00) By Khairil Mokhzani Bahar in Brain Stew

So yeah, it's been one of those months.

The lack of blogging this time has nothing to do with not knowing whether I can talk about the issues in my head or general malaise, but purely because I've been working my ass off on Johan John's upcoming flick Cahaya, of which I am producer and DIT. For me to describe all the hardships and mental-ness of this shoot on my side would take too long and my heads not in the right place for it right now, though I will say this - it looks good. insanely good. I'm hella proud of the bald one for this, and as much as this has been a helluva lot of insanely stressful and hard work, I can see his vision as a writer and director coming into fruition and that's good.

However, like I said above, the heads not in the right place these days. Something is wrong with the head. In fact, there's something wrong in general and it's frickin' annoying because it's something I honestly don't know how to solve. I know, technically, the solution, I just can't honestly do the solution, if that makes any sense.

Things aren't right in the head and heart. Not since the Angry Fat Man. This I know. The non-rightness is coming out in random expressions of irrational negativity which is either worrying or frustrating or flat out pissing off those around me. But I don't see how there could be any Closure. This isn't like the bad times, this is different. It's different, new and incredibly insane and it's driving me nuts. I can feel my body and my mind and my heart and soul affected and so far all attempts to move on have been short-lived.

And here's the thing - I know what this can lead to, I know what changes it can bring about in my character and personality if I let it, and it's not something I want. In fact, it's something I've strived my whole life not to be - bitter and angry, placing the blame on everything and everyone for my own shortcomings. And patterns of my past life do not apply to this. This is a New Thing and I'm not sure how Closure can be achieved.

I certainly have no interest in ever meeting the Angry Fat Man ever again. There's nothing the Angry Fat Man could do or so that could make things better. And there's nothing I can think of to say or do to the Angry Fat Man to make things better either. What I do know is this - for most of my life the main problem I've dealt with is depression, an incredibly internal self-loathing. But now, it's different - now the feelings are stronger and pointed outwards. Now there are feelings of anger and hate.

I can feel the rage inside me, I see it bubble and boil every now and then. It feels even more irrational and more uncontrollable than depression because there's a big difference between being emo and being angry - one has a long fringe that covers half the face and the other has a long machete that will slice half your face. It's not good.

I don't know what I need at this point - anger management? An aromatherapy massage? Head relief?

I'm seeing now how much and how long these issues have affected me, and I haven't fully moved on, just kept it below the surface, and every once in a while it bubbles up in the form of some misguided bullshit - anger, jealousy, bitterness, hatred, envy - all those negative emotions that guarantee an Oscar if you play them right.

Or if you play a mental. You're guaranteed an Oscar if you play a mental.

Strangely, the most therapeutic thing for me is to write it all out. Last night I could feel those strange, weird, irrational feelings surface, and I started typing away and things felt a bit better after that. No one will ever read what I wrote last night, but it felt a lot better writing it. The same way writing this right now feels a bit better. I only feel my migraine between pauses and only when I stretch back from hunching over and typing this will I feel the shoulder aches. No one will probably read this and that doesn't matter. What matters is the act.

Time to go now. Time to pry my fingers away from the keyboard and go back to the grind. Till things calm down, then. Till the calm before the storm.

Snickety-Snick, Snickety-Sucked

		Thursday, 30 April 09 - 09:02 AM (GMT +08:00) By Khairil Mokhzani Bahar in Geek-o-rama

 

When the first X-Men movie came out, I wasn't completely blown over by it, but I was happy enough - Brian Singer had brought the characters to life. It was too much of an introduction movie for me to be completely happy about it, the same way I felt about the first Spiderman movie. And like the Spiderman franchise, I was VERY happy with the second installment. And like Spidey again, I was unsure about the third part - a bit overblown, with additional characters added in for the sake of pleasing the fanboys though adding nothing to the plot.

I wasn't sure what I was expecting with Wolverine's solo outing, but I didn't expect this.

The movie opened adequately enough, with a nod to the Origins book itself, and went on to a very cool montage showing how Logan and Creed fought pretty much every war America's been involved in.

And then, just like that, it all gradually nosedives.

Now, don't even get me started on the writing. There are so many characters added in for no fucking reason whatsoever, half of which were inspired by the past few years of X-Men comics and stuck in as if to satiate the needs of us comic geeks whilst at the same time showing how 'cool' their powers are, but are they really required? Last I checked, the movie was called 'X-Men Origins: Wolverine'. Just concentrate on fucking Logan and his relationship with Creed. Instead, we rush through Wolverine's entire story, using the moments in his life to jump from plot point to plot point in order to show sequences with a bunch of different mutants.

Seriously, why? Why is Scott Summers and Emma Frost even in this picture? Why have the Weapon XI storyline? Weapon XI is frickin' Deadpool?! I wasn't too sure about Ryan Reynolds as Deadpool, even though I think the dude's great in anything he does and sure enough, the second we meet him we get a taste of that trademark smart-aleck banter that he can do with his eyes closed, but then he dissapears for the length of the movie until the end, where they've stitched the character's mouth shut and turned Deadpool into the ultimate Mortal Kombat character - Sub Zero's looks, Baraka's blades and the teleportation powers of the other dude besides Rayden with a wok on his head. Then there's Agent Zero - a very cool character from the Morrison run of 'New X-Men' now reduced to Stryker's lackey. Joy.

The most obvious pointless inclusion award has to go to Gambit, though. What a goddamn pointless exercise. There is absolutely no reason, no fucking reason at all, for Gambit to be in the picture. He has one cool fight sequence and helps bring up some exposition before bringing Wolverine to the third act. Fucking why?! It's blatantly obvious the only reason the dude's in there is because everybody's been complaining about how Gambit hasn't been in the movies considering that he's the coolest character of the comics after Wolverine himself and Taylor Kitsch plays it well, but this is what we get? This is all we get?

And it's not any of the actors fault. Most of the casts' characterization of these comic book legends are pretty spot-on, especially Liev Schrieber as Victor Creed. The bad memory of lumbering WWE champion Tyler Mane as Sabretooth is completely removed with Liev's performance and simple make-up as compared to Mane's fluffy boa ensemble. But here's the sad fact - Tyler Mane got the movie with the better script. Liev's stuck with some insanely dumb lines, as is everyone in the cast, and everybody tries to do the best with what they have but what they have ain't much. Not all the performances are great - why is there a Black Eyed Pea in the movie? Why not cast Fergie in the movie while you're at it? - but overall everyone tries their darndest to make the lines work.

Sorry, guys - they just don't.

But let's face facts. It's meant to be a big Hollywood movie, right? We're not supposed to expect a decent script, are we? No. I'll tell you what we're meant to expect - big, cool, action set pieces.

So why, oh God why, is the CGI so fucking horrendous?

Apart from the claws coming in and out, most of the time in the X-Men movies Wolvie's claws are props attached to him. Not here, no. 80% of the time his claws are computer graphics as he fights in a CGI-enhanced background together with other CGI effects and CGI bullets and CGI mattes...

...and it was so utterly beyond crap we weren't even pissed in the cinema. We were laughing our fucking asses off.

The basic rule of CGI has always been that as time passes, each new CGI movie makes the older CGI movies look crap in comparison (except for Terminator 2 - the CGI in that movie hasn't dated one bit) but this was just terrible. Wolverine's claws are now shinier, longer and faker than ever before. I think I would have enjoyed the movie more if I bought the bootleg DVD that was making the rounds for the past two weeks with the unfinished CGI because then I could just imagine how good it could have been. Have programmers gotten lazy? Have all the good ones been bought over by the Transformers post-production team? What the fuck is going on, godammit!?

I swear, Hollywood, I'm hurt. Hurt beyond recognition. Every movie I've gone to in the cinema this year has been either dissapointing, infuriating or just plain shit. And what's more, thanks to this run of crap Kitty now thinks I'm a jinx when it comes to watching movies in the cinema because every movie I've taken her to since we've started dating has been so utterly beyond salvation. None of the smaller movies make it on the big screen here, Hollywood, only your big-ass franchises, and every single one has sucked balls. The only movie that came out in the cinemas here that I enjoyed was 'Slumdog Millionaire', and I watched that on DVD because I didn't think it was coming out (although I discovered from Col. Kurtz that it was censored pretty heavily, so I'm glad I watched it on the small screen). 'The Wrestler' didn't come out in cinemas here, I had to buy the DVD too. I doubt 'The Brothers Bloom' will be on the big screen here either. Or 'Inglorious Basterds'. Or 'Drag Me To Hell', 'Crank 2', 'Downloading Nancy', 'Paper Heart', 'Public Enemies', 'Facing Ali' or 'Soul Power'.

Instead, we get 'Streetfighter: Legend of Chun Li' and fucking 'Dragonball Evolution'.

My last hopes are left on 'Star Trek', 'Transformers' and 'Terminator: Salvation' as far as big budget movies go. I might go check out the lattest Potter flick or 'Angels & Demons' and I hope 'The Taking of Pelham 123', 'Coraline' and 'Where the Wild Things Are' come out here.

But if Trek, Transformers or Terminator suck, that's it. No more. I shall not step into a local cinema for a while. This is too fucking much. What is going on, Hollywood? Is the recession that depressing that you've forgotten how to entertain? I don't expect you to make me think, or make me marvel at how brilliantly crafted a plot is. I only expect you to entertain me for two hours. To make my popcorn worthwhile and give me the opportunity to discuss the movie with my friends at length. I am sick of stepping out of the cinema shell-shocked.

Do something. Please. Because right now the only movies I want to see I can only get bootlegged, and you have only yourself to blame.

Welcome to The Industry

		Tuesday, 14 April 09 - 04:05 AM (GMT +08:00) By Khairil Mokhzani Bahar in Filmmaking Frolics

I went for a film related meeting the other day and was introduced to someone in The Industry. She spoke at great length about how she could get the hook-up on any sponsor we needed for a film, full of confidence to the point of pomposity and not a trace of sincerity in her voice. After 3 minutes of listening to this woman speak I quietly SMS-ed my colleague at the table:

"Why am i getting the impression this woman talks a lot of cock?"

That's what it sounded like - cock. Tons of it. My ears were in an auditory sausage fest being slapped about by pre-cum glistening floppy phaluses. She rambled on and on with such superiority, every sentence somehow ending with a less than obvious hint of how incredible she was at her job. Not a trace of humility nor honesty. In the words of a Star Wars character about to step into the unknown, I had a bad feeling about this.

Welcome to The Industry.

A while back I went to a private event for some people in The Industry where I met one of the Big Wigs. I asked him how business was. He told me that after the failure of their slightly more 'intelligent' releases (and by 'intelligent', I mean by his standards) and bigger budget productions he was told by Big Wigs bigger than him that he is not to accept any pitches that were interesting, intelligent, original or different. They were to stick with slapstick comedies because that's what (they believe) the public wants and that's what (they believe) will help them recuperate their losses. Apparently going back to these 'intelligent' releases and figuring out what was wrong with them in order to make them work is not an option.

When he spoke of indie films, he already had in his mind a perceived notion of what an indie film looked like (beautifully composed shots of silence between two underacting individuals) and what kind of plot an indie film has (any plot that the public wouldn't understand that may or may not deal with something political, racial or sexual). He spoke about how they were the ones that were raking in the box office but regardless, he wouldn't invest in one. After that another Big Wig friend complained about the lack of women at the event and asked him to call some of those young and desperate female extras to come over to 'spice things up'.

Welcome to The Industry.

Two years ago I went to a film premiere in the hope of broadening my contact base in The Industry. The producer said a few words before the film rolled and compared it to a known American director in the genre they claimed they were filming in. After the first reel I was seething. By the second reel I was desperately trying not to fall asleep considering the director's wife was sat next to me but to no avail - it was the first time I ever fell asleep in a cinema. The horror I was watching on screen was so abysmal and terrifyingly crap that my brain refused to take in any more of it.

When I went out for a cigarette after the screening with an actor friend of mine from The Industry, we were joined by another from The Industry that my actor friend knew. I listened to them talk about the movie, wondering what they would say about it. Their eyes said what I was feeling all along - "this movie is beyond shit and showing it to the public should be punishable by death".

Instead, they talked about how local audiences, in particular 'regular folk', would like it. And the saddest part was they weren't wrong - the movie made decent bank in the box office.

Welcome to The Industry.

This is The Industry where I've been making my living for the past year. I have seen wave after wave of terrible actresses who get bigger and bigger roles based solely on their perceived beauty. I have seen countless producers who claim to know their shit when in reality they couldn't connect two Lego bricks together without an instruction booklet, a video tutorial and someone next to them telling them exactly how to do it in single syllable words. I have shot page after page of scripts so disturbingly terrible one wonders what kind of retarded monkey boy signed off the check to pay these hacks. I have pitched my ass off and later discover that apparently I'm too young to be a director. I have had my scripts either rejected for being too intelligent or rewritten to the point that I wonder if it's even ethical to have my name on the cover and where the fuck is the local screenwriters guild to protect me during instances like this in the first place. I have had my award winning feature film referred to as a 'short film' more times than I'd care to remember because apparently if it's not shot on film it's not a feature regardless of how long it is. I have seen fights escalate on set to the point of blood spilled and I have worked with some of the most irresponsible jackasses in the world.

I have seen all this and plenty more and I welcome it with open arms.

I can't imagine doing anything else. I'm making flicks and shooting shows and writing scripts and playing psychos on screen. Do I seriously want to go back to nine-to-five, shirt-and-tie, memos, faxes and pointless abbreviations?

The crap gets to me, it really does, but fuck it. I welcome it, arms wide as a whores thighs at port during shore leave.

And do you know why?

Because I'm keeping all these experiences and I'm remembering every single one. And one day I'm gonna make a film about all this so don't get on my ass if the mirror shines a little too bright because, like they say, "siapa makan cili dialah rasa pedas" ("whoever eats the chilli tastes the spice").

Keep on acting like jackasses, bitches. You'll get yours one day, and I'll get mine.

Knowing Me, Knowing Poo

		Tuesday, 07 April 09 - 02:45 AM (GMT +08:00) By Khairil Mokhzani Bahar in Geek-o-rama

Dear God. What can be said about this movie that hasn't already been said about anal bleaching? Painful to the bum, completely un-needed but somehow it's a big thing.

There has been, in the history of cinema so far, no other movie that has caused my innards to want to burst out from my body and strangle its creators than 'Knowing'.

Some would retort: "Come on, it couldn't have been as bad as Batman & Robin! Or Indy 4!" Well, to that I tell you this. Batman & Robin was shit from the first two minutes of film. I stayed in the cinema to see whether it could get any better and was sadly mistaken. Even the close-up of Alicia Silverstone's bum couldn't make it better, but from the moment the movie started, it was shit. And Indy 4 is bad predominantly because it has three other well made movies to live up to and just flat out couldn't.

'Knowing' is bad because for three quarters of the film it's actually good. Sure, the CGI looks like the product of a first year student in animation, and if it was, that student should be applauded and his or her skills nurtured but no, this was a Hollywood film at a time where CGI has come a long way since the Nintendo 64 looking graphics of 'Species'. Regardless of this fact, the story still grips because it kicks off with an interesting premise and keeps building up on it: a series of numbers are found in a time capsule, each group of numbers signifying the date of an event that will cause the death of a number of people, the amount of people that will die and the coordinates of the location where the event will take place - 9/11, hurricane Katrina, etc, all leading up to present day. Three dates are of the future, and it's up to Nicolas Cage to figure out whether or not he can stop these events from happening and what it all has to do with him.

The kicker? The last date signifies the end of the world.

Sounds interesting, right? Pretty good so far. And whilst many in the world may not like the Cage-meister, he's done a lot of good movies such as 'Leaving Las Vegas' and 'Adaptation as well as flicks that I dig even though some may think they're wrong and cheesy like 'Con Air'.

Fuck you. The 'bunny in the box' moment is a landmark in action cinema.

Since it's a Hollywood Cage flick, certain things are required, such as running...

As I Walk Around KL...

		Tuesday, 07 April 09 - 01:53 AM (GMT +08:00) By Khairil Mokhzani Bahar in Brain Stew

...I see the strangest things. I don't go out actively looking for such strange things, I just tend to come across them. Thankfully, know that I'm pimpin' around with my Sony Ericsson cybershot I often find myself taking snaps of these strange things.

Today I bring you six strange sightings in the city of KL, starting with:

1. The One Finger Job

"Tap. Circle. Swipe. It's a one finger job." Indeed it is, sir. Indeed it is. As long as you can find what it is you're meant to be tapping, circling and swiping.

The thing is, that line's already got sexual innuendo all over it if wasn't for the final tagline: "Enjoyment matters". Of course it matters. Otherwise men wouldn't bother tapping, circling and swiping with their finger. They'd just stick their interface into the port and be done with it.

2. Pedophile Bait

The creators of this poster may have thought it was cute and innocent. "It's just a child messily eating ice-cream!" they may cry. But here's a little fact: in a study on pedophilia, it was found that it wasn't lolita style imagery that turned them on, but the ol' Coppertone sunscreen girl below:

With that in mind, God only knows what those devious perverts would make of the ice cream poster. Especially with that tagline - "Crave satisfaction". There's every shade of wrong in that image. Especially how the kids eyes are cropped out of the shot. Freaky.

And speaking of sexual innuendo in childhood material, what about...

3. Fun With Dick & Jane

Yes, I know. I'm being childish, but I call it how I see it. If there wasn't a picture of Dick blowing a balloon, your imagination would run rampant.

Perhaps it's time to detour away from the children and focus on something else, like 'Talledaga Nights'. Did anybody see that movie? Remember the end, how Ricky Bobby (or was it his teammate?) wants to change his name to 'El Diablo' and when they ask what it means he replies, "it's Mexican for a fiery chicken" - remember that? Well, someone took it literally:

4. Crazy Fiery Chicken

I could have a feel day with just the name: D'Ablo Fried Chicken. Why do so many Malaysian eateries use the apostrophied 'D' or 'De' in their name with complete disregard to the fact that it means 'of' in French? Some truly insane restaurant titles can be found in the country with the 'D' or 'De' on it but this takes the cake!

And then you have the tagline, which may not be too visible but reads: "Smells great... Taste gone Crazeee!!"

Words cannot describe the inanity of it all. It feels like the poster was designed by someone wearing a t-shirt just like this:

5. In Search of a Wife

The t-shirt reads:

"Di perlukan seorang awek. Pandai masak, mengemas, menjahit, suka kucing, boleh tanggong saya, ada kereta mewah dan superbike. Sila email atau MMS gambar kereta mewah, superbike dan kucing anda segera!"

For those that can't read Malay, it translates to:

"Chick needed. Must be good at cooking, cleaning, sewing, likes cats, can support me financially and owns a fancy car and superbike. Please e-mail or MMS a picture of your fancy car, superbike and cat immediately!"

I'm not sure whether this t-shirt is funny or just wrong.

Before I end this I hope you readers found this enjoyable and will keep your eyes out for more such things in this fine city of ours. Although perhaps even though you may want to find more of these kinds of things you may have a hard time trying to find them. Perhaps you need outside help to find them. Perhaps you need a private investigator. Why settle for anything less than the best...

6. You Know the Name

I found this in a toilet stall at the Petronas in JB on the way to Singapore and made me laugh so hard I shit myself which was what I needed to do anyway so no harm there.

I had no idea 007 was in Malaysia and was for hire, nor did I know he was Chinese. Daniel Craig had me fooled.

When The Chips Are Down...

		Friday, 03 April 09 - 02:19 AM (GMT +08:00) By Khairil Mokhzani Bahar in Brain Stew

...you call forth the five second rule and say to yourself, "well, they're McDonalds chips anyway, they're already fucked up. Dropping them on the floor shouldn't make a difference". Too bad spilt french fries are the least of my concerns. If I could afford french fries, this would worry me. The fact that I can't worries me even more.

Yes, that's right, folks - today's post is about MONEY.

I have never been good with money. I just haven't. I'm shite with it. When I was in A-level college, away from my parents for the first time and planted into a boarding school on the border to Wales surrounded by wheat and sheep I found myself spending my monthly allowance within the first week and a half. It would always be the same routine: get money, spend it on CD's and junk food, packs of cigarettes and a few trips to the cinema, then by the middle of the week I wouldn't have so much money but the boarding school gave us food anyway so that was covered but still spent money on cigarettes, then by the end of the week I'd find myself sifting through the ashtray for cigarette butts with a bit of tobacco still left on it and empty out as many as I could onto a rolling paper to light up and smoke and by the time the next month came around and I had my allowance again I'd be so pissed at the fact that I had no money for the past two weeks I'd spend it all again in the first week and a half and the vicious cycle would continue.

This would carry on through to university. This time, food was no longer confirmed so the cycle would start with the first week eating out everyday, second week cooking at home, third week would consist of beans on toast and by the fourth week anything that appeared edible in the fridge would be fair game.

With a spending habit such as this, it probably wasn't the best idea to get not one, but two casino memberships. I wouldn't go often, but when I did go it would be painful. Every time you'd think you're gonna play it safe, then you think you're gonna double your dough, then you're just hoping for enough for the bus fare home.

(The plus side of having a casino membership was that the swankier one had complimentary drinks and sandwiches so in times of desperation I'd put my best suit on, sit somewhere as if watching the other players and waiting for a seat, order seven sandwiches and get the fuck out of dodge).

Thankfully, Genting doesn't allow my kind into the casino which is probably for the best, but when I got back to Malaysia the cycle simply continued and I find myself these days living pretty much hand-to-mouth: get a job, get the pay, buy my shit, run out of cash, hope another job comes before I have to do something drastic involving an ill-fitting dress, make up and a tube of KY.

Now, before anyone says it, let me just say it for you - yes, all things considered, in the grand scheme of things I'm still a lucky bastard because there are way more unfortunate people than me in the world when it comes to finances. Shit, forget the world, there are way more unfortunate people within a 5 km radius. And this is true and I know this and my lament at the situation is not some kind of "oh, no, I'm so poor, I've got no money, what am I gonna do?"

It's not like that. I'm still pretty sorted as far as things go. I've got my car, I've got a roof over my head and I have access to basic food stuffs. My utilities are paid up for now and I can still switch on my computer and go on-line and download things I shouldn't be downloading and watch Craig Ferguson vids on youtube till the cows come home. I know that I'm still very fortunate and very lucky and it's not what this post is about.

This post is about how I need to learn this whole discipline about saving and pretty damn soon, 'cos a cloud gon' come from the West before you know it. Shit's hitting the fan all over the world, America and Europe are fucked beyond compare and it's spreading and I need to be prepared. We all do.

See, my first instinct when I realized what my bank balance was, "shit, I need another project to bring in some cash or I'm fucked".

(And incidentally, I somehow went on to lose my debit card directly after that but considering my bank balance whoever finds it will only be able to use it to buy a Mars bar so it's not too bad).

Although it is true that I need more cash coming in, that's not the real problem. Jobs can be found (at least, for now) and I know I'll figure something out. No, the real problem is making sure I keep some of it aside.

It's a simple premise, isn't it? Just keep some of it aside, that's it. You get your money, put some of it on the side, voila, all is well. But I just don't. I flat out don't. I have a separate high interest savings account but I pretty much spent most of it during the Dark Days of Depression when I was out of a job and trying to make rent in a dodgy apartment in Subang. There's a bit left, but I don't want to touch it. I want to add to it, and it's been my intention to add to it ever since I got out of the Dark Days but I've never put a cent in since.

How messed up is that?

I hope I can change this habit of mine. In the meantime, something tells me I'm gonna be posting up another item for sale on Facebook.

I hope it's not my ass-virginity.

I Can't Believe I'm Posting ANOTHER LOLCAT pic...

		Thursday, 02 April 09 - 01:45 AM (GMT +08:00) By Khairil Mokhzani Bahar in Brain Stew

 ...but this one's even funnier. Most of them lolcat pics are too cute for my musky manliness but this one, this one is the shiznit. Why?

Because it's wrong.

I Can't Believe I'm Posting a LOLCAT Pic...

		Wednesday, 01 April 09 - 05:12 PM (GMT +08:00) By Khairil Mokhzani Bahar in Brain Stew

 ...but I thought this was hillarious.

More where that came from at the link in the pic.

Preaching the Word

		Tuesday, 31 March 09 - 09:13 PM (GMT +08:00) By Khairil Mokhzani Bahar in Filmmaking Frolics

So last Sunday I found myself waking up at seven in the morning. For the past two weeks I'd been used to sleeping at five or six in the morning and waking up at around three or four, but Sunday was different. I had to be awake, alert, sharp and full of pep.

Because last Sunday I had to be on student time.

A few weeks before hand I got a call from a UiTM student, asking me if I was willing to give a talk together with two others of the film world for a workshop on making short films. It'd been about a year or two since I last spoke to UiTM students and I'd been planning a workshop myself so I figured it'd be a good testing ground.

So there I was, driving out to the Puncak Perdana campus of UiTM in Shah Alam on a Sunday morning, trying to stay awake with the aid of two cans of coffee, a shitload of cigarettes and Mos Def playing on the CD player.

The second I got there I met up with someone who I'd written to via e-mail, I think maybe even spoken over the phone, but had never actually met in person till now. The one and only Hassan Muthalib:

This is a man who's been involved in the Malaysian film industry for many, many years and a joy to talk to. The man's a walking encyclopaedia of film theory.

Also present was uber-editor and filmmaker Akashdeep Singh:

(Pardon the bad photoshopping. Trying to save pic space on this blog).

Whilst Hassan talked about film theory and Akash talked about how to get your ideas on screen (and he also showcased a cool little way to jot down ideas) I spoke mainly about the joys of DIY and being independent, showing them videos of different DIY techniques, how cameras that most in the film industry here would consider not good enough for film being used in not just indie productions but Hollywood productions too (such as Crank 2, shot with the Canon XHA1 and Canon F100). I showed them how I made my DIY depth-of-field adapter, how others have made their own steadicams and how regardless of what techniques and equipment you use, none of it is worth nothing without a good, solid story, honest and straight from the heart.

I think they dug it. I hope so, at least. Either that or I spoke English too damn fast.

After that there was the workshop:

Here the students had an hour to brainstorm a short film idea and present it to us. The ideas were great but there was one thing that bugged me: they were told they had to present their ideas in storyboard form.

This didn't make sense, as far as I was concerned. It didn't make sense to Hassan either (Akash had to leave before this part, unfortunately). To me, the most important thing of this 'pitching' session was to be able to convey their story in a way that we could understand, but they got so caught up in the storyboards they'd get too confused or pre-occupied with them. Story is story, plain and simple.

The whole thing was hella fun and I had a great time with the students. Apart from the whole pitching thing, the other thing that bugged me about the session was that these kids weren't exposed to as much as I felt they should be exposed to - other directors, other ways of shooting, cool ideas, all the many possibilities available. I felt it was important that they knew there was more than one way to skin a cat.

It made me realize how blessed I was that I was exposed to all these things that made me the filmmaker I am today. I got a chance to learn so much that has helped me get to where I am and the whole experience at the college energized me even more to get my damn workshop going, because how cool would that be? Tons of young punks, going out there and making more new and interesting movies in crazy ways that the old guard would never even dream of. Impressive, interesting, personal stories that demand your attention, grip you by the cojones and drag you across your seat like a cinematic teabagging.

Thanks, UiTM, and I hope I'll be seeing y'all real soon (especially if any of you guys take up the internship I pimped out).

What Women Want

		Wednesday, 25 March 09 - 12:44 AM (GMT +08:00) By Khairil Mokhzani Bahar in Brain Stew

For a moment, just a moment, I discovered what it's like to be a woman.

For the past few days my tummy's been giving me a bit of a problem. For a while it was constipated and there was a lot of gas related pain. Today, however, it seems to have turned into flaming diarrhea, probably as a result of the cilli tuna sandwiches and Maggi tom yam I've been eating today, leaving my corn-hole feeling like a car lighter.

So for the better part of the evening I had been hitting the toilet, and even though my ass felt like a Johnny Cash song ("Burning Ring of Fire", in case you were wondering), I was glad. At least it wasn't stuck and at least I didn't have the sharp gas pains anymore.

I must have gone up to the toilet about two or three times to take a dump and at one point went just to take a piss. About ten minutes ago, I went up to the toilet once again to take another dump. I grabbed a copy of Hellblazer (the Garth Ennis run), lit up a cigarette...

...and I almost fell butt first into the toilet.

It turns out when I went to pee earlier I didn't put the toilet seat down. I understood the logic as to why women get mad when you don't put the toilet seat down but I always felt that if you're going to the toilet you'd check the status of the toilet seat and if it's up, put it down, the same way I'd expect any self respecting male to lift the toilet seat when they piss because no matter how big your cock is you can only aim that thing with, at the very most, 75% accuracy. Sometimes that dick will spray in directions you never thought was possible, such is the unpredictability of the penis.

But when I went up to take a dump it was second nature to just sit down because that's what I'd been doing for the past couple of hours and it never occured to me to check the toilet seat. Men (or at least, men like me) check the toilet seat's status because we stand for number one and sit for number two, but women do it all sitting down. It's second nature for them to take a seat without thinking because it's the default setting.

So there I was, my butt inches away from drowning in toilet water, offered a tiny glimpse of what it must be like to be a woman.

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