kaigou: (1 Izumi)
These were not all recommendations. In many cases, these were just... I don't know what. Boredom, maybe, or honestly mistaking the title for something else that's actually worth the time. Or maybe I didn't mistake it and just thought the movie/drama poster looked cool. Some of these, though... IDEK.

ExpandA Good Day To Have An Affair, Bambino, Color Me Love, Hero, Protege, Sorry for the City, Sword in the Moon. )

The Passage [Taiwan, movie, 2004]
If there's anything on this list worth watching, this would be it. From AsianMediaWiki's description:
Petite but determined Yu-ching (Guey Lun-mei) is working as a museum research assistant when a Japanese man, Tao (Yukihiko Kageyama), inquires about a piece of Chinese calligraphy entitled "The Cold Food Observance." Yu-ching sees an opportunity here both for romance and for the healing of her friendship with an emotionally repressed pal, Dong Heng (Leon Dai), as the artwork is the center point of a book Dong is writing...

That's only what the movie is about on the surface, when in fact this movie is somewhere between calligraphy itself, and a tone poem. Almost bereft of any major instrumental score, the movie exists in a sort of timeless quiet, interspersed with stories of passages.

It's a story about exile, both willful and unwanted, self-created and externally imposed, and the wish to come home against the wish to flee. The story takes its time to unfold, and in between there are delightfully child-book illustrated-style animated segments that illustrate an old man's narration. The tie-in, at first, seems evident/solely due to the story revolving around the Taiwanese National Museum, I think it is, where Yu-ching works and Dong Heng does his research. But the old man's story is about the occupation and the war, when the Taiwanese feared bombing might hit the museum and endanger priceless cultural artifacts.

That narration tells of the search for a place to hide the artwork -- where to exile the artwork, if you will -- and the journey itself in carrying the artwork safely out of Taibei. In the dark, fearing the bombers looking for truck headlights to indicate a highway, the truck convoy took the journey into the mountains where the artwork could be stored safely in a cave deep within the mountains.

In a parallel sub-plot, the young visiting Japanese man's fascination/insistence on seeing "Cold Food Observance" isn't clear until near the end, when Yu-ching gives a short presentation about the calligraphy-piece's history. It's a poem written by an illustrious thinker, who spoke once too often a little too plainly in his poetry, and was banished by the Emperor (to what is now Taiwan, which is apparently how his calligraphy ended up in Taiwanese ownership). Regretting his exile and distance, the artist spoke sadly of what he had now, and what he had lost, and his desire to return home.

The characters seem simple, at first glance, but each has a story of passage: the Taiwanese author, Dong Heng, who has exiled himself within his work, but part of his work is receiving/recording the stories of the museum's exile. Yu-ching, whose greatest wish -- to see the original caves -- is retracing the path of that exile, in ways she can't trace or follow with Dong Heng. And then there's Dong Heng's father, lost in the mountains, never to return home. There's a broken jade ornament more precious to its elderly owner than any of the masterpieces in the museum boxes... and there's a young man whose grandfather -- possibly also exiled, himself -- spent a year restoring a masterpiece of calligraphy out of a sense that his own exile and longing was shared by that artist from a thousand years before, and that neither would ever see home again.

Much of the dialogue is like older chinese calligraphy, where the artist speaks of everyday things, things you wouldn't think are worth noting. The angle of the winter sun, the dust motes, the barking of the neighbor's dog, that the porridge is cold and the tea is a little too strong. The power in such poetry comes through in the way it evokes a moment in time.

By understanding what lies around the artist, you understand how the artist feels about what he's describing, and thence to understand what the artist wants you to feel, as well. It's a rather roundabout way, all showing and no telling, with the nuances being in how you're shown -- that is, how the calligraphy itself appears on the page, in describing those simple things. A broad stroke, a playful swirl, even when the subject matter appears mundane. Understanding that is one path to understanding the elusive paths of The Passage's exiles.
kaigou: this is what I do, darling (4 oh em gee)
Talking just now with CP on a paper idea of his, and (as we frequently do) we ended up tangenting along until we ended up on a discussion of whether there are/were significant non-named/generic non-human critters in folklore from any of the African countries.

When I was researching for stories of my own, one thing that bothered me to no end was the overwhelming amount of material available on European (especially British and North European) folklore creatures... and the absolute dearth on just about anywhere else other than maybe Japan and Russia (and a smattering from India). Elsewhere, sure, you could find plenty of stories about named characters -- i.e. Anansi, Coyote, Baba Yaga -- where there's an entire body of legends about the character's exploits. But those legends also presuppose that there's only one, even if that one shows up everywhere at any time. What I was looking for was generics or categories, like the Indian naga, or the Korean gumiho, or the Welsh redcap, and having no luck.

A few times, in articles from/about -- I think it was Mozambique, South Africa, and... I want to say one of the western coastal countries, but I don't think it was Cote D'Ivoire proper -- there would be random passing reference. Then the interveiwee (or translating author/ethnographer) would keep going, into some story of another named legend. No, no, back up, I wanted to say, but it was clear that someone -- whether the interviewee, or the interviewer -- didn't consider these incidental unnamed category-creatures to be worth more explanation.

This is entirely my speculation, but it's possible that it's the ethnographer only wanting a 'body' of stories, instead of snippets here and there -- little stories, if you will. And it's also possible that it's the interviewee (as CP suggested) not wanting to seem too backwards, so preferring to tell legend-type stories, where there's a running narrative. Instead of, y'know, talking about the bogeyman.

But I wonder if it's also possible that in telling the little stories, that there's a self-censorship at play because of the self-consciousness of the telling. Like, for instance, choosing not to repeat the stories of Santa Claus, because you stopped being fooled by that story when you were eight -- even if ten minutes after the interviewer leaves, you're reprimanding your own children about the fact that if they don't behave, Santa will leave coals in their stockings.

Besides, it's my firm belief that if there's one universal aspect to parenting, it's that all parents have a bogeyman at their command. And if you don't behave, that bogeyman -- whatever his or her name, age, rank, appearance, or living quarters -- will come get you.

Or maybe it's just that bogeymen are universal.

ETA: If you do know of beastiary [yokaiography, demonography, list-of-nonhumans, etc] books that recount the folklore of 'generic' (unnamed) non-human types, from cultures other than EU/CEE (which I already have in spades), please do tell.
kaigou: this is what I do, darling (4 life is pain)
One of the other threads in Where the Girls Are was a discussion of one of Bette Davis' earlier melodramas (co-starring a young Humphrey Bogart), Marked Woman. Loosely based on real-life case, Bogart's character convinces Davis' call-girl ("hostess" for censorship purposes) character to testify against a big mob boss. Over the course of the film, it becomes apparent that there's a strong attraction between Davis' low-class character and Bogart's upper-class prosecutor character. Yet at the end, when Bogart's character obliquely suggests that they try and make a go of it, Davis' call-girl turns him down.

The book's assessment of this was that the introduction of reality -- that there was no future in a relationship that crossed such class barriers -- actually turned the film into a subversive work. By showing all the potential of such a relationship, and then reminding the audience of the reality (and thereby removing any chance of a Cinderella-like unrealistic happy ending for the sympathetic female lead)... it actually pissed women-audiences off. It made them say, "why must it be like that? why can't she finally get a decent guy?"

I was reading that book while also working my way through one of the kdramas -- can't recall now which -- but not like it matters; many of them run together when it comes to the Cinderella themes. (Per my previous post, especially when it's poor-girl-who-works-hard manages to snag the chaebol/rich-boy prince. Hell, if you watched kdramas and mistook them for reality, you'd think chaebol-boys grow on freaking trees.) Over and over, the dimwitted but hard-working and well-meaning poor girl gets chosen instead of the highly educated, cultivated, and ambitious rich girl.

ExpandThe reality of that is... well, it can happen, but it's so rare as to rival hen's teeth. )

Which is better? To watch the fantasy and have it fire you up to believe the world could be like that? Or to see the reality and get really freaking pissed off because you hate living through that yourself, and want to work for a day when that onscreen misery is nothing but a distant memory?
kaigou: this is what I do, darling (3 break out of prison)
Back when I was reading the book on women in media (Douglas, I think it was), I recall a chapter that discussed Charlie's Angels in-depth. I'm pretty sure I quoted that section at length, but one part I didn't quote but has stuck in my head was how Charlie's Angels -- the show, not the characters -- attempted to have its feminist cake and eat it, too. Or maybe I should say: to eat the cake while denying the cake existed.

Here's the logic: patriarchy is, in simplistic television terms, when men as a sex, a gender, and as a rule, strive to keep women in the position of second-class citizens. Okay. Demonstrating/illustrating the patriarchy in television, therefore, is showing men being male chauvinist asshats. So far, I'm still with the logic.

But here's what Charlie's Angels was arguing, by having the consistent villain of the piece be a sexist asshat: they were reducing -- Douglas argued -- the concept of 'patriarchy' as 'something all men buy into and intentionally (or unconsciously) support, engender, propagate, and generally make sure men stay the only sex with any significant rights or privileges' to 'here are some guys who are asshats". In short, the reduction subtly undermined the feminist argument that the patriarchy is a problem with men as a self reinforcing whole, by positing that if you could just get rid of these (specific, bad) men, there'd be no patriarchy. Rainbows and puppies for everyone!

ExpandWhich is where the having the cake -- men are sexist! -- and denying it -- but only certain bad men! -- comes into play: and thus into commentary on women-in-media of kdramas, jdramas, and tw-dramas. )
kaigou: this is what I do, darling (1 iguana)
If the police/authorities bring someone in for questioning, but have not charge the person with a crime, can they take fingerprints? Or is that considered invasive or violating rights or potential self-incrimination if they do so before formally charging the person?

...Not just the US, that is, if you're not US and you have any vague idea of the procedure where you live, then I'd be curious to hear that, too. Mostly because I like police procedural dramas, in any language, and the "we think he's this guy (or he looks just like this other guy)" mistaken identity (or non-mistaken undercover schtick) is a common plot-step the world over, it seems. And since that would so easily be cleared up by a set of freaking fingerprints, I'm wondering when I should see the non-fingerprinting as accurate for a culture, versus a plot-hole.
kaigou: this is what I do, darling (Default)
Japan's Cinderella Motif- Beauty Industry and Mass Culture Interpretations of a Popular Icon — Laura Miller

Too much evo-psych but still important observation, from Psychology Behind The Cinderella Complex:
...there is also a division between the smart and the pretty girl. “We can’t do both, evidently,” Fraser said. “And if you are both, then you’re universally hated by both men and women; women because they’re jealous of you, and men because they don’t know what to do with you.” She said that a woman “who is living up to her potential is often cast aside or becomes a social outcast.”

From Wiki's entry on prestige (sociolinguistics):
Some instances of contact between languages with different prestige levels have resulted in diglossia, a phenomenon in which a community uses a high prestige language or dialect in certain situations—usually for newspapers, in literature, on university campuses, for religious ceremonies, and on television and the radio—but uses a low prestige language or dialect for other situations—often in conversation in the home or in letters, comic strips, and in popular culture. Linguist Charles A. Ferguson's 1959 article "Diglossia" listed the following examples of diglossic societies: in Switzerland, Swiss Standard German and Swiss German; in the Middle East and North Africa, Standard Arabic and vernacular Arabic; in Haiti, Standard French and Kréyòl; in Greece, Katharevousa and Dhimotiki; and in Norway, Bokmål and Nynorsk.

Although those (I gather) are significant linguistic differences between prestige and standard, couldn't a situation like Southern/non-Southern be considered a kind of diglossia? My understanding is that code-switching is when you mix two languages (dialects?) in the same sentence/breath, like a kind of maladapted or hyper loanword use. Diglossia sounds more like a complete switch, like what I do when speaking with relatives versus the way I speak at work. It also sounds like what people are talking about for Black Americans, who switch easily from Standard American at work to Black American while with friends/family or non-work situations. As others mentioned on earlier threads, that as long as you use those structures and expressions, you're still speaking "Southern" even if your accent is soft (or non-existent), the accent of Southern American, like Black American, is not the key feature. It's the significant differences in the grammatical structure as well as the idiomatic expressions.

Now I am reminded of that segment from Airplane: "Oh stewardess! I speak jive."



Tangential note: out of curiosity, I just looked up jive, wondering where the name itself (jive) originated. Still no idea on that one, but I did just learn that linguistically, African-American Vernacular English (AAVE, or what I was calling Black American) is a creole. The bit about prestige dialects remains at the forefront of my lizard brain right now, so that popped back in as I got to the section about Ebonics... and I gotta say, I loathe that term. The political ramifications aren't helped by a strange kind of verbal synesthesia, where the capital E + the bon looks... I don't know how to put it. Like something you'd call a child's music toy, or something. Not quite plastic-cheap, but that kind of reaction. Hard to qualify/express.

However, it seems to me there's a prestige, of a sort, when a dialect is known as a creole, probably in part because of the association with "creole" and "New Orleans" (in terms of cultural import/impact). New Orleans is, and hopefully will continue to be, a huge cultural value for America. So maybe we have an association, thanks to that, that lends prestige to "creole", regardless of whether the listener understands the linguistic differentiation. I think maybe it's also because most people are aware that "creole" (unlike the maligned notion of 'pidgin') is a dialect-into-language. Credibility, perhaps, that isn't granted by a bizarre and frankly stupid invented-word like Ebonics?

Strange, to be reminded yet again (as though I could forget) that words really do make all the difference. Instead of Ebonics and its ridiculous assumption that the non-Standard English is a sign of Black American childrens' lesser communication skills (oh please)... by emphasizing the creole aspect, the truth becomes: Black American children are actually gaining a skill many Standard-American speaking children don't gain: multilingualism. There are huge benefits to having that kind of multi-linguistic exposure as small children, not the least of which is a facility to learn other languages, because the brain is already used to switching back and forth -- and we've got more than just American-English vs non-English languages, we've also got computer languages, these days.

Too bad I'm never a hiring manager, or I think this would be a valuable trait in potential developers. Someone who can code-switch (or use diglossia) between a creole and Standard American is possibly also someone who can do the same with computer-language syntax. It's just one more way of adapting and working with language, and long experience in code-switching gives you the tools to apply the same in a new area. I think that'd be incredibly valuable (especially in industries like mine, which are always stumbling over and into new developments that then need to be integrated with the old).

Then again, I'm not a hiring manager... nor has any hiring manager ever given even a moment's notice to the languages I've studied. Or maybe it's just that as far as I know, I've never had a direct manager who isn't mono-lingual. Maybe you only recognize the value when you're multi-lingual yourself, or spend most of your time in multi-lingual environments, enough to realize that mono-lingual is... well, it's a drawback. It's not something to be proud of.

Also, awesome quote: "A language is just a dialect with an army."
kaigou: this is what I do, darling (2 angst!)
Subtitles.

Jess, jess music! WTF, over.

3/4 of way through episode, characters arrive at music hall. Poster behind them of tall black man playing a saxophone. ahah. Jazz music.

Poker waltz, however, had me utterly stumped.

Until three episodes later, it's mentioned again, but this time with context of waiting for the 9 and 3/4 train or whatever it is.

Poker Waltz = Hogwarts.
kaigou: just breathe (2 just breathe)
So I'll just link outright: Nobuta wa Produce review: part one & part two.
Admittedly, Nobuta wo Produce hardly looks impressive on the surface, and can be dismissed by the casual observer as just another idoru vehicle set against the disposable backdrop of high school — with the fluff, the stereotypes, the puerile laughs — only to be swallowed in a sea of other mass-produced Jdramas of the same teen-wanking formula… But no. This one is different. Because once in a while we drama fans are gifted with a viewing experience so transcendent in both style and substance, a triumphant synergy of directorial creativity, of writing deep and resonant, and of characters so heartbreakingly authentic.

At first I was leaning towards dismissing the series as just another fluffball, if a slightly odd fluffball considering the only way I could handle one character's behavior/delivery was by seeing him as a permanently-stoned, slightly-tipsy, Spicoli done over as a Japanese idol. But before I knew it, the story grew on me, and by the halfway point (maybe even by ep3), I could see why the reviewer raves over the series. It's certainly not your average idol-based drama, that's for sure.

It's a little more insular than My So-Called Life, with its focus more on school-time; the characters' families or homes are in passing at best and afterthoughts at worst. The real focus is between the three leads; also, unlike MSCL's understated grittiness, and provocative introspection, NwP is really, as endersgirrrl puts it in her review, pure magical realism. A fair bit of goofball who's the wise fool, a withdrawn shy girl, and a lonely boy scared to reconcile his true self with his popular image... with Santa Claus, shared dreams, and piggy good-luck charms. Also, the granting of wishes, even if the one that comes true is the wish for curry bread.

Maybe someday I'll have the brain cells to tackle some of the marvelous ways this little fluffball-series showed a core of real passion and strength. Probably not today, though, so I must rely on another's review to do the convincing. All I can say is: it's a series worth watching.
kaigou: this is what I do, darling (3 missy in the lower-left panel)
It's a comedy series, so there's exaggeration for the purposes of humor, mostly playing on how (from a Korean perspective) the Japanese will bow, then you bow, then they bow, and you have to bow again, and it's never-ending.


ExpandA few comments. )
kaigou: Skeptical Mike is skeptical. (1 skeptical mike)
I am completely baffled, because here's a language for which no one gives subtitles.

In jdramas, I've seen people bow when they greet, when they depart, when they apologize, and when they congratulate. Often it's multiple bows in the same space of time, such as bowing in greetings, to which the other person bows, and then there's a response bow. (This got parodied wonderfully in a short segment in the first episode of the kdrama, Coffee House.) From CP and Japanese friends, I have some understanding of the basic etiquette of bowing... but it's not doing me much good in understanding the nuances when I'm watching kdramas. At least, I can't just assume the two correlate, because when you deconstruct kdrama bows, the details and style are different -- enough that I'm not willing to just take it for granted that they mean the same or should be applied/understood the same way.

ExpandWhere, when, and who of bowing in jdramas, kdramas, and tw-dramas, with notes on what looks like the styles of bowing for each. )

I've found various essays/articles about bowing for Japanese culture, but none for Korea or Taiwan, and definitely none that compare the greeting/departure nuances between the three. If you watch any of those countries' dramas, or are familiar with any of the cultures directly, am I missing something that might explain the nuances? Do you see the same pattern, or do you see real-life patterns being different, and if so, any idea of why the drama-versions vary from real life and/or are so consistent in their presentation?
kaigou: this is what I do, darling (4 pretentious with style)
This is being passed along/asked on behalf of [personal profile] taithe -- you can read what prompted these question in this thread (from the previous post). Slightly modified to be more universal for Southerners in general:
Who is defined as a Southerner? When not in the South, can you spot a Southerner right away or is it less obvious? If you live outside the South, do you feel like you don't/can't belong because of your Southern background? How closely do you think you match the stereotype of Southerner, and do you think this impacts how well you fit in -- or don't fit in -- when living outside the South? Alternate for those who've always lived/stayed in the South: can you identify when someone's a returning Southerner versus a newcomer picking up Southern habits? If so, what's the tip-off?

Formally speaking, "being Southern" has two-parts, or so I was always taught: born, and bred. Technically, I'm not a born-Southerner (thanks, DAD, the military guy!) because I was born in North Dakota. I'm completely bred-Southern, though, since we returned to the Deep South when I was six months old, and I lived in various places in the South until I was in mid-twenties. Beyond that, I have multiple generations in all directions who are born-and-bred Georgia, Alabama, Tennessee, and Mississippi, so generally... yeah, I'm pretty Southern.

ExpandRest of my answers behind the cut. )

If you don't mind [personal profile] taithe using your comments as possible jumping-off or consideration points for grad study, and want to contribute with your own stories/input for her questions, please feel free. If you'd prefer anonymity, you can go with anonymous here (I'm hoping that's okay, for taithe's purposes), or just PM [personal profile] taithe directly.

If your experience has differed from mine, especially do speak up. The South is hardly monolithic and I'm nowhere near an expert on All Things Southern, so do feel free to help me make sure no one gets that impression. Let's freely contradict each other, if that's what it be.

[see comments for additional response/questions from [personal profile] taithe]
kaigou: this is what I do, darling (4 no sacrifice)
I've been sitting on this rant for awhile, but what-the-hell, I'm going to post. If you like to play the oppression olympics, don't read this. If you react favorably to the following statement: "immigrants have it the absolute worst in the US," then you probably won't want to read this, but maybe you should anyway. Just consider it walking the length of this post in my shoes, with citations.

Clover, Carol. Men, Women, and Chainsaws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film. Princeton University Press, Princeton, New Jersey, 1992.

One of Clover's chapters, Getting Even, discusses a concept she calls "urbanoia". She defines it loosely as the (horrorific/horror) archetype of the civilized city-dweller's feelings against/about the uncivilized (savage, primitive) country-dweller.
An enormous proportion of horror takes as its starting point the visit or move of (sub)urban people to the country. (The eternally popular haunted house story is typically set, if not in the country, then at the edge of town, and summer camps set in deep forests are a favorite setting of slasher films. ...) ...That situation, of course, rests squarely on what may be a universal archetype [in which the non-city] is a place where the rules of civilization do not obtain. People from the city are people like us. People from the country (as I shall hereafter refer to those people horror construes as the threatening rural Other) are people not like us.

She gives several examples of just how the rural Other is different: adult males with no immediate family connections, or extreme patriarchal rulership (with the occasional extreme matriarchal rulership), and abnormalities like "psychosexually deformed children", with "degenerate specimens [as] the material expression of family wrongness..."

She goes on to summarize the basic appearance of the rural Other, in terms of the standard elements of the genre convention:
...country people live beyond the reaches of social law. They do not observe the civilized rules of hygiene or personal habit. If city men are either clean-shaven or wear stylish beards... country men sport stubble. Likewise teeth; the country is a world beyond denistry. The typical country rapist is a toothless or rotten-toothed single man with a four-day growth. ... As with hygiene, so with manners. Country people snort when they breathe, snore when they sleep, talk with mouths full, drool when they eat. The hill people of The Hills Have Eyes do not even know how to use knives and forks. Country people, in short, are surly, dirty (their fingernails in particular are ragged and grimy), and slow ("This ain't the big city, you know, things take time," a local handyman drawls to our city heroine in The Nesting, and the city invaders of Pumpkinhead refer to the locals as "vegetables"). What is threatening about these little uncivilities is the larger uncivility of which they are surface symptoms. In horror, the man who does not take care of his teeth is obviously a man who can, and by the end of the movie will, plunder, rape, murder, beat his wife and children, kill within his kin, commit incest, and/or eat human flesh... No wonder, given their marginal humanity, country people are often nameless or known by cognomina only.

CP brought this book to my attention after I spent one dinner ranting -- and I don't mean the usual annoyed complaint-airing, I mean truly angry ranting... about a map. There are weeks where I should know better than to follow links, but I was curious, and that right there should've been a sign, but still: a map that assigns movies to states based on "one movie set there that seemed reasonably typical". (h/t: [personal profile] wordweaverlynn)

Some of them are relatively obvious: Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Raising Arizona. Some of them require you be aware the filmmakers would be State Cultural Treasures (if there were such a thing): Maryland has Jon Waters (Pink Flamingos), Rhode Island has the Farrelly Brothers (There's Something About Mary), New Jersey has Kevin Smith (Clerks). Others have region as distinctive aspects of the film, like The Wizard of Oz for Kansas, Dances with Wolves for South Dakota, and A River Runs Through It (in which Montana should've gotten top billing, if you ask me, for providing such backdrops). A few make no sense to me at all, like Glory for South Carolina, a film that's about the 54th Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry. So a big battle takes place outside Charleston... it strikes me as odd that a film "reasonably typical" about South Carolina would star, well, yankees. But anyway.

I didn't expect that many surprises, and you probably won't see too many yourself, if you go look at the map. While you're there, take a look at the state that's down near the bottom-right, in orange. ExpandGo ahead, I'll wait, just making conversation over here while you go see. )


NOTE: if you are considering a comment in which: you say that you, personally, have Southern friends and they make jokes like this all the time, I won't reply because (a) this post is NOT ABOUT YOU and (b) you're blurring ingroup/outgroup humor and maybe you need to think about that more. If you raise a defense via attacking on the topics of slavery, slave-ownership, redneck-analogies, or how Others have it worse, I will DELETE your comment as oppression olympics and/or derailing.
kaigou: this is what I do, darling (4 oh em gee)
Class-passing: Social Mobility in Film and Popular CultureGwendolyn Audrey Foster

The first 6 pages are available as a google books preview. I'd quote more, but I'm not really up to sitting here typing in an excerpt from the book, so instead ExpandI'll just run a few review-excerpts past you. ) One of the points Foster makes is that class is a self-constructed (or socially-constructed) identity that can flux the way modern media/society will also flux gender. Although she doesn't say it explicitly (or maybe she does; I'm still working my way through the book), there are tells or signals that identify cross-classing in the same way that certain details will signify or indicate cross-gendering.

For some reason, in the middle of reading, I was reminded of the k-dramas I've seen that depict upper-class characters. Setting aside the culturally-loaded (or culturally-specifics) whistles of whether one eats with a fork and knife or eats with chopsticks, what one eats, and how one acts around the dinner table... in nearly every instance of a western-styled dinner table, I've had a strange knee-jerk reaction to the actors behind the characters.

The actors bite their forks.

You can hear the distinct clink of teeth on metal tines, and I can't help but be distantly amused at how this both annoys me to no end, even as it reveals (in me) a certain set of assumptions of what it means to bite a utensil. It's a major signifier -- or so I was taught -- of bad manners, hence, lower-class or less-class. Yet these are actors portraying supposedly top-of-the-heap (wealth-wise) characters, and in many ways, they have all the other trappings of class around them: cloth napkins, complex tableware, multiple courses delivered/eaten separately, and so on... and at the same time, they're displaying (apparently unconsciously) a complete lack of class (that is, table etiquette).

I don't think that double-meaning is intended in the original text, to be honest. I think I'm supposed to see the characters are being the ultimate in cosmopolitan, genteel, upper-class crust; at least, that's what the context appears to be saying. But just as I find myself recoiling whenever a supposedly upper-class character sticks his napkin in his collar (a bib? at the dinner table? are you kidding me?), I do the same when someone lets teeth come down hard on a fork or spoon.

As a result, I find myself reading into the text the sense that these characters are all falsehoods. They're duplicitous, attempting to pass themselves off as classy, when in fact a little detail like this reveals their overall failure to pass as upper-class... even as I intellectually am aware that it's more likely it's the actors playing a role of being wealthy characters (a kind of faux or temporary 'passing' in itself). It's a good chance I'm seeing a signal from the actor's personal backstory that indicates the actor was not raised with these little [western] etiquette rules; this lack of background/personal knowledge means the actor probably isn't aware s/he is signifying clearly the lack. I get that, but it's still hard to avoid making a connection/conclusion per the characters enacted.

Still. Untangling my own upbringing from my reactions to an onscreen story just reminds me all over again that I don't think we can underestimate just how much, as an audience, we infer into and out of a story... even when we're not consciously aware of what's driving our response. The reaction exists all the same.
kaigou: (1 buddha ipod)
Women in Movies and TV: Why Does Hollywood Always Portray Women as Weak and Helpless?
So brainwashed is the public that women should always be portrayed as weak, hapless and defenseless, that a most-brilliant Nike commercial was pulled shortly after it was aired on TV: Woman is sleeping. Man with chainsaw breaks through front door. Woman bolts awake and escapes through window into the dark. The chainsaw man storms through house and out same window. Woman is running through woods. Viewer hears chainsaw man in pursuit.

But something is peculiar here. The woman is running with beautiful strides, easily clearing forest-floor obstacles, and doesn't stumble! The scene switches back and forth between the agile woman and the increasingly out-of-breath man. Woman continues to run effortlessly, while man eventually slows, panting heavily, stops completely and can barely catch his breath.

Next scene against a black screen are the words: Why sport? It just might save your life. Nike. Just do it.

This brilliant ad was pulled because of complaints it was "offensive." Shame on anyone who complained. These overly sensitive viewers just couldn't grasp the concept of a woman outrunning a man. Yet I wonder how many of these feeble-brained viewers have enjoyed movies and TV shows showing women clumsily running from men, then tripping and falling, then being captured by the men.

A solid rant, with several good points to keep in mind when it comes to those damned drama wrist-grabs. Sheesh.Expand...and more. )
kaigou: this is what I do, darling (5 offering bowl)
Sofia Coppola's Lost in Translation was a hushed and poignant film about the experience of being lost in an unfamiliar world, where all communication fails: between the male protagonist and his estranged wife, between the female protagonist and her ambitious boyfriend, between the two American protagonists and their inability to bridge the language gap with the people around them. In one light, it both specified Tokyo via its use of specific places within the city, and at the same time used its distance from the average (American) viewer to riff on the stranger-in-a-strange-land trope. In another light, it's also an exceedingly problematic film, in that Tokyo and its denizens are exoticized as something so foreign and incomprehensible that no translation could ever truly be possible.

If you've ever wondered whether the East had an answer to that multi-layered movie that Othered both its environment and its own protagonists, it just might be The Longest Night in Shanghai. If Coppola's story posited that isolation -- being lost with no meaning -- is an unavoidable aspect of life, this story posits that communicating -- finding the translation -- is the key to gaining one's meaning. (And it does it without requiring that anyone be Othered.)

A joint Japan/China production, directed by Zhang Yibai (Spring Subway, Curiosity Killed the Cat), it's nearly pan-Pacific in its casting: Vicki Zhao (PRC), Motoki Masahiro (Japan), Dylan Kuo (Taiwan), Sam Lee (Hong Kong), and other Japanese, PRC, and even a few American bit players. From the DVD description:
Japanese makeup artist Mizushima Naoki (Motoki Masahiro) is in Shanghai on a job. Wandering by himself at night, he takes a knocking from reckless taxi driver Lin Xi (Vicki Zhao), but is luckily unharmed. After some language confusion, Naoki gets into the taxi, mistaking Lin Xi's insistent friendliness as an invitation for a free tour of Shanghai. Little does he know, Lin Xi is planning on taking this well-heeled foreigner on a very roundabout tour of Shanghai, with the meter running. As Naoki's worried colleagues set off in search for him, Lin Xi and Naoki slowly develop a bond that transcends their language gap.

Unfortunately for her plans, he's walked out of the convention center without his bag (containing his ID and passport), his cellphone, or any idea of the name of the hotel where he's staying. He hadn't planned on not going back, but now he's lost somewhere in Shanghai, and despite the taxi driver's multiple attempts to foist him off on someone else (a low-rent motel, the police station, etc), each time she ends up going back for him, unwillingly sympathizing with this lost soul in her city. They're both lost, really: Mizushima's relationship with his partner/lover, Miho, is strained and too business-like; Lin Xi harbors a secret long-term love for her best friend, a mechanic at a local garage.

He understands no Mandarin; she speaks no Japanese. The one language they have in common is (ironically, to me) English, but it's pretty limited, even then. But in that way all people have when faced with someone who is a stranger and doesn't understand what you're saying, the honesty that each begin to express reveals communication despite the lack of translation between them. And, eventually, transcending it; in the end, unlike Coppola's protagonists who are permanently lost somewhere in the translation (including a final line between them that's not even audible to the audience), Zhang's protagonists find themselves in, and despite, translation.

ExpandRead more... )



The Longest Night in Shanghai: wikipedia entry / yesasia listing, HK version / amazon listing, JP version
kaigou: this is what I do, darling (3 scare the devil)
I cannot recommend enough the Taiwanese drama, Black & White. On the surface, it's a cop-buddy series, with a kitchen sink of multi-layered, intricate, very-few-holes, plot that twists, twists back again, and then comes around to get you at the kneecaps. Politics, murder, suspense, procedural, a little bit of romantic triangle but leavened by some good male-female friendships, too. But what really makes it worth watching is that it is an entire series jam-packed with awesome female characters.

Here's a small taste of the kind of awesomeness I mean: the mob boss' daughter is shown as a little spoiled, definitely headstrong, but as one raised within the triad, she sees all the "brothers" as her "uncles". She's not so good with the hand-to-hand self-defense (and she's also teeny compared to most of the men in the cast), and it's a running joke how she keeps trying to flip various good (and bad) guys and never can manage it, but she also visits the range regularly & is a decent shot. Unfortunately, being the daughter of the mob boss means she's a target for anyone with a bone to pick, so it's no surprise she ends up hog-tied and laying across the train-tracks. Good thing she's alerted someone and a rescuer comes to save the day. (Not naming the rescuer because that'd be a major spoiler.)

They're getting away from the bad guys, but then the rescuer is shot and the motorcycle goes down. Now the bad guys have them cornered. Mr Rescue pulls two guns out from under the bike seat, puts 'em together, and tells her that he's going to run to the right and draw off the bad guys' fire. While he's doing that, she's to run to the left, get away, get help. Off he goes. Bad guys shoot. Just as the would-be self-sacrificed Mr Rescue ducks behind a barrier, the mob princess steps out from behind the first barrier and shoots both of the bad guys herself.

It's not treated as a kick-ass feminist moment (in terms of the music or other cues). It's not treated as comedy. It's not even treated as much of anything, other than the mob boss' daughter refusing to leave one of her men behind. So she joins in the fight rather than run away. (Later, one of the main protagonists runs and leaves men behind, and I think her reaction is also meant as echo/contrast to the protagonist's cowardice.)

For that matter, the top dog barely puts up any complaint, other than remarking that those weren't his directions. She just shrugs it off, and the matter's dropped. (I had expected the usual Hollywood fashion of the next ten minutes being him yelling at her about it, but we got none of that.)

That's just one instance in an entire series of instances where female characters don't cower helplessly or lie there waiting to be rescued (and the only reason the mob princess does that one time is because she's unconscious). For that matter, not a single female character calls herself stupid, nor do any of the male characters say that of the female characters.

Nor is there any nonsense of telling the woman to step down and go hide because the man feels compelled to protect her, as though she's a burden on him. In the scene described above, the dynamics are different, because Mr Rescue's instructions are nearly identical in spirit to instructions given to the actual mob boss, in earlier scenes (when his underlings willingly sacrifice themselves so he can get away). It's not a matter of, "I can't do my job if you're here being all need-my-protection," it's a matter of "my job is to protect you, so if you get away safely, I've done my job properly." The difference is that Miss Princess shows the same guts as her father (and uncles), and refuses to leave a man behind. While it may be striking to have a female character shooting back (and afterwards showing little to no remorse in doing so, yay!), the actual dynamics are no different from previous displays of male-underling-male-boss.

Overall, the female characters are quite capable of protecting themselves, far better than just about any other police-drama I can name, Western or Eastern.* Strong women, full agency, not a stupid one in the bunch, and all of them very capable -- and allowed, by the script, to be completely capable. There are other reasons to speak highly of the series, but the strong female characters have got to be at the top of the list.

(* A rare competitor for "way strong female roles" would be the Korean movie, Secret Couple, aka My Girlfriend is a Secret Agent, aka Grade 7 Civil Servant, and no I haven't the faintest which is official -- you can find the movie under any of those titles.)
kaigou: this is what I do, darling (1 iguana)
Seeking recommendations for scholarly works on self-essentializing "Japaneseness" (nihonjinron)? Particularly looking for ones focusing on religious identity, and/or on pop culture (especially anime), but really anything highly recommended on the broader topic would be most welcome.

(thanks in advance!)
kaigou: this is what I do, darling (3 love the stars)
There be spoilers in this post, which is both analysis & recommendation for a Taiwanese drama, Gloomy Salad Days. If you're worried about the subjects tackled by the drama, I'll be going into length, so at least you'll know what you're in for (with the cost of not being surprised).

First thing to realize: the entire series (twenty episodes, now fully fansubbed by SUBlimes -- google it) is inundated with pop-idols. You've got your current pretty-face stars, your rising stars, even bit-parts populated by various winners of various reality-show-idol-competition whatsahoosies. The entire cast list (outside of the few adult roles) is, well, mostly pop idols -- and it does seem that this may be the first major acting many of them have done. If you keep that in mind, you may find yourself not irritated at the low level of acting ability, but instead impressed at just how well many of the young cast members pull off some damn hard roles and storylines.

Second thing: the series is loosely based on a Japanese anime, Jigoku Shoujo (Hell Girl). The Taiwanese version was originally to be titled, "Death Girl" (and that right there is an important distinction); I think the final title is because of the song used as the opening, which fits the dark and often hopeless mood of the interior stories rather well.

I make note of the Hell Girl vs Death Girl, because if the Japanese version is strongly Buddhist, the Taiwanese version has major Taoist leanings instead... so a large chunk of the story has been shifted for the difference in world-view. ExpandComparing the two versions, and overviews of some of the storylines, especially the one revolving around a transgender student, and the one tackling the issue of bullying. )

Much shorter version: the series is dark, melancholy, at times hampered by inexperienced acting (but not nearly as much as you might expect given the relative inexperience of the cast overall), but the script is solid and thoughtful writing, and it keeps its sympathetic focus entirely on the outcast characters, whatever their role. Transgender, gay, lesbian, abandoned child, child-prostitute, and so on. Some of the episodes are stronger than others, but that's to be expected with such a large and continually changing cast. All in all, though, this isn't your usual candy-fluffy pop-idol drama where someone's making sure the camera always gets the good sides, and the fact that this was marketed for and broadcast to 10-14 year olds just boggles me... and impresses me mightily. Overall, it's a damn gutsy television show.

Lastly: the final four episodes attempt to tie up the connection between Shen Qi and Death Girl, a la the original Jigoku Shoujo... but it's too much at once. The previous episodes had kept a better balance of how much melodrama was piled on, mostly because each storyline focused on a specific part/type of dramatic incident. The final four episodes throw in everything and the kitchen sink, including the dreaded "inappropriate feelings between siblings" (with the nearly-throwaway line to alert you to fake-out, that both siblings were adopted) -- and frankly, even the two experienced leads don't have the chops to keep the melodrama from crushing them. I've mostly browsed through the episodes, only stopping randomly.

You may enjoy the final four, or you may MST3K it out the wazoo, but if it helps, the final four episodes are not really required for any overall understanding. Each two-episode storyline could be considered reasonably standalone (with the possible exception of episodes 7-10, since Li You's story comes into play in Xiao Ju's story).


ps: I guess the wiki entry got un-reverted, because every change I made is now in there. *whistles*
kaigou: this is what I do, darling (1 Ritsuka)
The great thing about watching Taiwanese dramas is that -- finally -- I don't have to be looking at the screen constantly. I can catch/comprehend about, oh, a good half of any basic conversation, at least until the conversation gets into technical terms or higher-level vocabulary. Okay, I admit that in some cases, the Taiwanese accent -- at least, I'm guessing it's the accent -- throws me, so the hanzi subtitles are useful for clarifying. Things like 是 -- which I was taught to pronounce as shi (or shurrrrrr, if your textbook is from Beijing) -- drop the 'h' sound in the Taiwanese accent. So 是 sounds like ssuh and 老师 sounds like lao-ssuh. Even the zh sound has little 'h', so 知道 sounds like zeh-daow.

Tones are a lot softer, too, but that means context matters even more. Still, once I got used to those minor accent issues, I can at least catch some. (More than I can in Japanese, which after all these years of listening + subtitles, I still can't do much more than register formality via verb-endings.)

What stumps me is when there's code-switching. I'm just not good enough to handle it, like my brain can't think on two tracks. Oh, I can get it when it's just a tagged-on loanword, like replying "yes" or "okay" instead of 是 or 要 or whatever, or sweet-names between lovey couples (like "honey" and "baby").

It was when a character said what sounded like buohkay that I think my brain broke. Backed up and checked the hanzi subtitles and sure enough, it said: 不OK. A second listen with eyes closed and I still couldn't get it. I'm just not good enough to switch that fast, or maybe it's the slurred nature of the vowels that I couldn't differentiate between the 不 and the ohhh, or maybe it's that my vocabulary isn't big enough to know for certain that ohh and kay do not form a Mandarin combination. I end up hearing "okay" and struggling for a second to figure out whether I'm supposed to hear what I think I'm hearing.

But just now, a series with school-age kids are poring over a fashion magazine, describing the pictures as 可爱喔 ... I could recall that 可 isn't just "can" or "may" but is sometimes to mean 'certainly' (uhm, right?) -- so I figured, okay, 'certainly lovely/loveable' instead of 'possibly', given context. But the 喔, I hadn't the faintest.

Then I hit play and realized: the characters are all saying something that sounds an awful lot like keh-wai... except that the final syllable is more like ohh than eee. Brain sez: wait a minute. That's... oh, cripes, now I'm dealing with Japanese loan-words, too?

Although I admire the creativity of it, since the pronunciation the actors use is pretty close to the Japanese but with a consonant switched -- what should be more like keh-eye-woe is said more like keh-wai-oh. The near-duplicate sound comes by tagging 喔 on the end, which (after much dictionary searching!) turns out to be an onomatopoeia for a crow's cry. Sound-wise, it's close enough (thanks to the switching of the consonants) that it ended up in the box labeled "things that require thinking in more than two languages at once."

On the other hand, I took a break from watching this afternoon and was messing around on the web, and came across several trailers for some BBC production. Couldn't understand a bloody word -- until I realized, it was because I've spent so much time recently trying to tune my ear to parse Mandarin that as soon as I heard anything even remotely obviously-not-American, my brain kicked into Mandarin-parsing-mode.

Which, obviously, doesn't get you anywhere when the characters are from Manchester.

whois

kaigou: this is what I do, darling (Default)
锴 angry fishtrap 狗

to remember

"When you make the finding yourself— even if you're the last person on Earth to see the light— you'll never forget it." —Carl Sagan

October 2016

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