From The Onion…

Link.

Swapping Rifles for Carbines

So let me see if I got this straight, Brazilian Security Secretary Beltrame: due to the considerable number of fuck-ups commited by the police lately, you will swap their rifles for carbines due to carbines having a smaller range and less power? You will swap this:

For something like this?

So, when two policemen shoot sixteen bullets in a car that represented no threat and kill a three-year-old boy, your answer is: “they’ll keep fucking up, but with less efficient guns”? These poorly-trained policemen have trouble enough hitting the correct targets, and now you give them a carbine? A gun that requires precision and careful aiming? “Oh, but other countries’ policemen don’t have assault rifles”, other countries are not Brazil. They can use twelve-gauge shotguns in USA, but not here. The answer is not to keep sending policemen up the favelas shooting everyone with a gun. When are people in this fucking country going to understand this isn’t going to solve shit? 98% of the people in the favelas are honest people.

I agree, 5.56 is hell of a bullet, and indeed its range and power are inadequate for urban warfare in a civilian area, but a CARBINE is not exactly the gun you want to give them. Give them MP5s, a submachinegun. German Federal Police use that, if you really need another country as a frame of reference. They have less power (can’t go through body armor, if I’m not mistaken) but they allow for less precision. You can blindfire with them, not with a carbine. And the bullet won’t travel one and a half mile and through walls.

And this is just if warfare was inevitable, which it isn’t. Problem is, our pussy politicians keep repeating slogans, “drugs is bad, drugs is evil” and arresting people for smoking pot. The solution is very simple: LEGALIZE DRUGS. And not that half-assed thing they did in the Netherlands. “You can smoke here, but not there”, fuck that. You legalized smoking and alcohol, you might as well go all the way: pot, cocaine, heroin, LSD, whatever, same places you can smoke, you can use these ones. If people want drugs, THEY WILL buy them, there’s nothing the government can do about this. So, instead of fighting drug smugglers and killing innocent people in the favelas, make a deal with them. You bring in the drugs, we check them for purity and you sell them under our watch. If people die using them… mmmmm… fuck them. There’s no lack of help for addicted people here. If they didn’t look for it, fuck them, they made their choice. No need for the government to keep patronising us. We’re all individuals equipped with brains, and the brain has no difficulty to grasp the concept drugs are not a good idea.

As for the drug smugglers’ other problems, like selling guns illegally, pirate DVDs and Games… Buy all the fucking guns back and tell them to end the piracy in exchange for legal drug selling. Somehow, this sounds like a better solution than a vicious cycle of sending policemen to die in favelas. So they killed one or two drug smugglers? Hooray, we’re all saved now!

This might sound cruel to you, but I prefer drug addicts overdosing instead of innocent people having to pay for all this. I just wouldn’t mind seeing a guy snorting cocaine as I’m on my way to school. In fact, I couldn’t care less. Same thing if I see a gay couple kissing. People describe it as “disgusting”. I describe it as “not my fucking problem”. We’re all being too patronised. Start taking responsability for your own choices, stop asking the government to do everything for you, because most of it are dishonest pricks and they couldn’t give a shit.

All I just said might be impossible to do, the situation might be more complex than this… but at least I’m SUGGESTING something, which is more than these conformist morons who inhabit this shithole do.

(I should of course be suggesting this in Portuguese, but I don’t have time for a blog in Portuguese on top of this one. So, consider this a rant created to develop my ideas on the subject)

Flash Fic 2 – “Researching Mankind in Mississipi”

Billy Joe Lingster was the redneckest man you could ever (not) hope to meet. Pure southern white trash whose sole interest in life was watching game shows and NFL. He had American flags everywhere around, above and inside his house. He looked like an oversized walrus, with a big puffy moustache and a beer belly. His wife Mary was a huge woman who was either doing housework or trying to deal with their seven children. There used to be eight, but she had tripped and fallen on one of them whose name she couldn’t remember. They lived in this wooden house not far from Starkville in Mississipi, an old doorless pickup being their mean of transport.

Billy Joe had eaten at McDonalds that day (as they all did every day, only he had eaten more than usual) and felt a rummaging in his stomach. He got up from the bed. It creaked as if sighing in relief.

“Hey, Billy Joe, where you goin’?”, his wife moaned.

“Jus’ takin’ a trip to th’ restroom, woman. Stop bein’ so…”, he searched for the word, but his vocabulary didn’t include one.

“Billy Joe, it’s late.”

“Shuddup, woman. What’d you expect me ta do? Shit on th’ bed?”

“Damn, Billy Joe, don’ need ta be so mean ta me.”

“Then shut yer damn mouth and go back ta sleep.”

This was a normal conversation between them.

Not worrying about putting his boxers on, Billy Joe nakedly made his way to the door. He left the house and walked to the wooden restroom.

Having finished, Billy Joe walked out with a smile below his huge moustache, which faded when he saw what was in front of him.

Two small silhouettes, with big round glasses around their heads, were there staring at him.

“Do not fear us, human. We do not mean to harm you”, one of them said.

Billy Joe was ecstatic.

“We are researching mankind, and we decided to start in this place you call…”

“Mipissipi”, the other one said.

“Yes, Missipipi. Human, I see you are naked, but I can’t see your reproductive instrument.”

“I think it is under his oversized stomach”.

“Yes, it is likely.”

Billy Joe finally spoke, trembling: “Look, you critters… you don’ scare me… I’m'a go in mah house an’ get mah rifle you don’t split from here…”

The creatures looked at each other. “Are we in the correct country?”

One of them produced a high-tech PDA and looked at it. “It says we are in Mississipi, United States, Earth. Language: English.”

“Do you speak English, human?”

Billy Joe was confused, “of course ah speek English. Ah am an American!”

“Mmmm. It seems this is the southern accent.”

“Yes, a quite ugly one in fact.”

Billy Joe was getting angry now, “Hey! It’s mah land you critters are talkin’ ’bout!”.

“I do not think our translators are adapted to this form of speech.”

“His frowned brow and his waving arms indicate the human is angry.”

“Quite. We should take precautions.”

Both creatures produced what looked like laser guns and pointed them at Billy Joe.

“What is this?!”, he protested. “Pointin’ some… thingie at me in mah own property?!”

“We do not wish to harm you, human. Please go back to your calm state of mind.”

“Yer ain’t tellin’ me whatta do!”

“Human, our translators are confused. Please speak slowly.”

“Put them thingies down!”, Billy Joe insisted.

“I think the human wants us to lower our weapons.”

“Indeed. But he has not fulfilled his part of the deal yet, for he is still angry and therefore a threat.”

“I question the intelligence of beings who see a gun and do not obey.”

“I believe the humans have a word for this. Stubborness.”

“Damn right ah am stubborn, you ee tees! An’ I tol’ yer to put them thingies down!”

“The human won’t calm down. What should we do?”

“We are being threatened. Safety protocol is permitted.”

“Quite.”

They both fired their laser guns and Billy Joe was instantly incinerated.

“A pity.”

“Indeed.”

“Let us go back to the mothership. It seems this species needs time to evolve. Let us not risk any other encounters.”

“Are you sure we shouldn’t explore other areas where development might be more advanced?”

“This is the most powerful country in this planet, and their leader speaks just like the human we have met. It is not worth the risk.”

They went into the woods, from where a huge mothership emerged moments later and shot into the sky, leaving the remains of Billy Joe’s moustache floating in the soft wind.

Movie Review – Sympathy for Lady Vengeance

Originally written in February 10th 2008

July 30th 2008 commentary: again, my paused style of writing at the time, period-heavy, is very annoying. Too many adjectives are used, but I’m happy at how I describe Chan-Wook Park’s emotional style of directing. Re-reading these older reviews, I see how important they were in improving my English writing style.

I had to watch this movie twice, with a four month interval, to stomach it. The first time, I was left dazzled. I was completely unprepared. This second time, I watched it knowing what to expect… and I have just seen another masterpiece from the same director of the magnificent “Oldboy”, Chan-Wook Park.

Geum-ja Lee was forced to stay in prison for thirteen years after confessing to a murder she didn’t commit (for reasons I can’t say in a spoiler-free review). Now, she’s looking for a revenge. Against who and why is slowly revealed by the movie, and it requires attention. Park has a surreal, almost bizarre way to tell a story: he manages to show every scene decorated with some kind of emotion. They’re evocative. Which is why Park’s movies are always an emotional blow to your stomach. “Oldboy” might be my favorite movie ever (except for “Carlito’s Way”), but I have a hard time watching it again. It breaks me.

Geum-ja is played by Yeong-ae Lee… probably the most beautiful asian actress I’ve ever seen. Her beauty left me stunned. She’s also a fantastic actress. In the fabulous scene where she talks to her daughter via an interpreter, the camera focuses all the time in her face… and what she says and how she says it is absolutely perfect. There’s also an incredible moment near the ending where the camera focuses on her, and she grins trying to hold back laughter for a reason I can’t reveal. The rest of the cast is also amazing, with a special mention to the brilliant Min-sik Choi, the protagonist of “Oldboy”, as Mr. Baek.

And how Park extracts humor from this story is a mystery, and proof of what a gifted director he is. You laugh and you cry when he wants you to. He can film a sequence with hilarious potential and make you cry instead, and vice-versa. And the humor somehow never breaks the drama. Park also poses a very important question in the movie: in which case is violence acceptable? And he answers this question with a violently depressing third act. And in Geum-ja’s case specifically, he answers it when she meets a little boy in the end of the movie. I can’t reveal more.

Filled with beautiful, unforgettable moments and perfect music by Seung-hyeon Choi, Yeong-wook Jo (who brilliantly composed “Oldboy”) and Seok-joo Na, “Sympathy for Lady Vengeance” is another movie by Chan-Wook Park that left me emotionally broken in a corner. And that’s my favorite kind of movie. When it tells the story without holding back, when the story’s fully told, no matter how much it hurts. It’s the third installment of the “Vengeance” trilogy. The first is “Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance” and the second is “Oldboy”. All these movies have in common is the vengeance, not their characters, so you can watch them in whatever order you like. For me, there’s only “Mr. Vengeance” left. And I’m looking forward to it.

By Andre Navarro.

Criticism on “Cheese”

John Muth from Whitechapel was the first one to talk about my first flash fic here:

“Andre, yeah. I like the photo you used… Nice layout. Don’t know if I could stand to read another story like Cheese though….

…

Yeah.. “

Perfect. And I’m not being sarcastic.

Pills

I take pills, for I am old and wrinkled at seventeen years of age. In fact, I feel like a pussy doing so. I remember sixty years ago – uh, I mean, I imagine sixty years ago, when people had to cope with their insomnias and depressions and wishes to kill their neighbor by themselves, for there wasn’t the quadrizillion types of pills we have nowadays. Mark my words, in about a year there’ll be a pill for waking up. And I’ll need it.

Of course, in Brazil, these pills cost a fortune, which means we’re falling into the same shithole known as “US Healthcare”. Fortunately, the insurance companies – some of them – actually work, for now. But the many public hospitals have insane waiting lines and lack of equipment.

I take an antidepressant so I can resist the overwhelming desire of kicking the little yappy dogs dressed in fancy clothing owned by snob rich cunts of both genders. You might ask, “Why do you want to kick the little yappy dogs dressed in fancy clothing own…”, BECAUSE THEY ANNOY ME. No they haven’t done me any harm. No it’s not my business. I understand that. But my foot begs to differ. You see, it’s just one of those things-that-annoy-you-just-because.

Of course, the antidepressant has other uses – as I write this, the other pill I take, the sleeping one, has started to take effect, so if I say insane non-sensical stuff, don’t take it into account (but if I say something genius, please do and give me all the credit) – as I was saying, the antidepressant has other uses, like dealing with stress caused by many reasons. My sleeping pill is necessary for I have insomnia and no ability at all to deal with lack of sleep. A friend of mine told me she can sleep four hours and that’s enough. If I wake up after four hours of sleep, I’m a zombie. My eyelids hate me, life is shit, bed bed bed please – more or less like that. Hence sleeping pills nine hours before I have to wake up (it takes about one hour to take effect).

I keep imagining myself seventy-years-old sitting at the dinner table, with a bowl full of different pills in front of me, eating them with a spoon and ketchup.

Flash Fic 1 – “Cheese”

The sewer smelled horribly of excrements. Obviously. But that didn’t stop Officer Raymond from chasing the purse snatcher that decided to take that route instead of being a good criminal and staying on ground level. With his pistol pointed ahead and the safety off, he tried to walk noiselessly to hear the footsteps of the bastard, but all he was getting was the incessant squeaking of rats. Too many rats. Then again, he had never been down in the sewers before, so he couldn’t know how many rats per square meter the sewer usually had.

Without further distractions, Officer Raymond carefully surveyed the sewers as he pointed his gun. Then he heard a high-pitched voice:

“What did you bring me?”

It came from the L-curve right ahead of Raymond. He took cover, double-checking his pistol.

“This, master”, another voice answered.

“What is this?”

“It is called a purse, master.”

“And what do I do with this?”

“It must have valuable items inside it, master.”

“Like cheese?”

“Uh… no, I don’t think so, m…”

“Then what fucking use is this to me?”

“Uh… well… maybe there’s an IPhone in it or…”

“You moron! You stupid, retarded human moron!”

Raymond was too curious not to peek. He did it as carefully as possible.

It was a giant rat, sitting on a throne of solidified shit, throwing the purse on the wall of the sewer. Kneeling before him was the criminal Raymond had been chasing.

“But master…!”

“Shut UP, you fucking imbecile! I give you a simple order: I. NEED. CHEESE. And you go and bring me some piece of cheap leather full of useless things and expect me to thank you! You know what the food quality in the sewers is? Take a guess, you asshole!”

“I won’t do the same mistake again, master. I will go now!”

“You won’t. You couldn’t identify a good piece of cheese if it was stuffed down your throat. I see your brain is of no use to me.”

“Then how can I serve you, master?”

“Mmmmmm… you see, there are no female rats of my size…”

“What do you mean, master?”

“Holy fuck, you ARE slow. Just pull your pants down and stay on all fours.”

“Of course, m — NO!”

“MINIONS! HOLD HIM!”

A legion of rats swarmed the criminal and held him on all-fours while some of them chewed his pants off around the anus. The giant rat stood up, revealing a giant cock.

“Aaaah, yes”, it moaned. “Ah, yes, finally.”

Raymond just lowered his gun and started walking back to the entrance of the sewer, eyes staring blankly ahead of him, as the criminal’s hideous screams echoed.

Movie Review – I Am Legend

Originally written in February 8th 2008.

July 29th 2008 Commentary: this was my first movie review in Warren Ellis’ Whitechapel Forum. And I’m glad to see how much I’ve improved since then. This review uses too many adjectives, and the all-caps paragraph is pure exaggeration. Also, having re-watched “I Am Legend” not long ago, I realized it wasn’t a good film, just an entertaining one. Aniway.

Director Francis Lawrence is responsible for one of the stupidest ideas in comic-to-movie adaptations: to turn John Constantine from Hellblazer into a guy from Los Angeles, who wears black clothing and has brown hair, and to give him all sorts of beyond-ridiculous super-gadgets. And Lawrence was also responsible for making a decent movie out of that. “Constantine” was very flawed, but enjoyable, thanks to the cast (yes, including the underrated Keanu Reeves) and Lawrence’s excellent direction. Which led me to think that maybe Lawrence is a talented director who made a very serious mistake.

Apparently, though, it seems he’s building a trademark: to make a stupid decision in every one of his movies, and then direct the shit out of it. It’s what happens in this “I Am Legend”. He made two serious mistakes here: the first is the CGI vampires. The second was letting Akiva Goldsman anywhere near the script. Aside from that, the movie is excellent.

The story’s already well-known, but hey, fuck it: military scientist Robert Neville (i.e. good with chemicals AND with guns) is seemingly the last man on the planet, after a virus bred from a presumed “cure for cancer” spread throughout the world and turned the population into a kind of vampire. Living with his pet dog, he has a lot of food in stock, but hunts for some deer meat whenever possible. And at night, he hides in his house, while the vampires roam the streets.

The movie starts very, very well, and goes on brilliantly until the middle. I can bet this first half was completely written by Mark Protosevich (responsible for the efficient Poseidon and The Cell, which I have yet to see): he builds the tension slowly and eases us in into Neville’s life. We learn he talks to his dog and pretend mannequins are real people so he won’t feel so lonely. We learn how amazingly careful he is not to be discovered by the vampires. Without many words, the script shows us every detail of the man’s life.

Lawrence also shines: giving us information via old newspapers and etc. instead of using expositive dialogue, he creates nice visuals and conducts every scene very well. The warehouse sequence is fantastically filmed, with only two angles: Neville’s face and the aim of his flashlight. Using the sound effects efficiently, this is easily the most tense sequence in the movie. Lawrence also creates a beautiful scene at the end, using a successfully dramatic slow-motion (although the theological meaning of it is annoying, which will be discussed later. No spoilers.)

And then the first mistake comes: the CGI vampires. Obviously this was done so the vampires could move faster and be more bizarre, but really, an actor in makeover would have kicked some CGI ass. It’s painfully obvious we’re looking at virtual creatures, which takes away a good deal of the tension. The good direction and the excellent performance by Will Smith (which will be discussed later) help, but the CGI is really bad quality. Gollum is ten times more real than any of those creatures. Fuck, even the DEERS look artificial. Terrible job on the special effects department. And even if it wasn’t: actor in makeover would be much better.

But despite that, the movie goes on very well, featuring a very touching scene in which Neville begs for a mannequin to talk to him. It might sound funny, but believe me, it’s anything but.

Then Akiva Goldsman steps in.

How do I know part of the script here was written by him? His other movies, like Batman and Robin, Batman Forever, Cinderella Man, Da Vinci Code, I Robot and etc. have a lot of his ridiculous style here. First, the girl Anna and her son, Ethan. The way they come into the movie is way too forced and unlikely… and the movie establishes very well the kind of person Neville is, so what he’s doing when Anna appears is something we know he’d never do no matter what.

Then, Mark Protosevich steps in again. Neville’s reaction to seeing human beings is perfect. Then, Goldsman: Neville voice-overs Shrek just to finish it with a wannabe funny joke (Goldsman did the same kinda thing in I Robot, also starred by Smith). After that, Goldsman remains, and includes an…

… ABSOLUTELY FUCKING RIDICULOUS DISCUSSION ABOUT WHETHER OR NOT GOD EXISTS AND WHETHER OR NOT HE HAS A PLAN FOR US ALL AND BLAH-BLAH-BLAH INSERT TYPICAL THEOLOGICAL BULLSHIT EVERYTHING-HAPPENS-FOR-A-FUCKING-REASON HERE…

… and Protosevich steps in again, I guess. I think they wrote the ending together. There are some beautiful moments, but the part the above theological discussion plays in the ending is ridiculous and doesn’t fit at all. At the same time, it’s touching. Protosevich and Goldsman, probably. And the unecessary monologue at the end? Goldsman.

But surprisingly, the ending works. How? Because by then Robert Neville is already important to us. In other words, thanks to Protosevich’s part of the script, Lawrence’s direction and Will Smith.

Smith is brilliant. He displays fear, surprise, etc. with perfection. Notice his heavy breathing and his eyes at the warehouse sequence: it’s almost palpable. And his performance at the ending of the movie is nothing short of beautiful. He carries the movie on his back without breaking a sweat, and once again, like he did in Pursuit of Happiness, he proves what a great actor he is.

My fellow Brazilian Alice Braga can’t do much, though, since her dialogue and character are mostly written by… you guessed it. So she does what she can: excellent american accent. And her son practically doesn’t talk. Neville’s dog is more interesting than them, just so you have an idea at what a fucking disaster Goldsman and his characters are.

I Am Legend is a good movie, tense and dramatic. But Goldsman prevents it from being the masterpiece it easily could have been, and the CGI creatures are unconvincing. It is, though, worth watching.

This and other movies make me perfectly convinced Goldsman didn’t write the script of A Beautiful Mind. Someone else did it and Goldsman found a way to take credit for it without writing a single line. How do I know? A Beautiful Mind is an excellent film.

PS: in a certain point of the film, Anna says she never heard of Bob Marley.

…

…

…

… Goldsman.

By Andre Navarro

Home Sweet Bloody Home

I could be described as an internet bum. I’m everywhere except on a site that is actually MINE (wordpress notwithstanding). And that didn’t bother me, until some “friends” started bugging me to go through the trouble of posting my stuff in a place with my name on it. You know, because I have nothing else to do except making flash animations, writing stories, a screenplay and movie reviews, plus enduring the very useful teachings of school. By the way, did you know carbon can make four connections? Yeah.

Aniway, here I’ll post reviews of all kinds because I like telling people what’s good and what’s not (mainly because I’m always right), I’ll talk about shit, rant, post flash fiction, etc.

There is a comments feature, yes. You’re free to say what you want, I’ll read every word. But I’m also free to say what I want, so bear that in mind if you’re a Christian Fundamentalist and I say I think the Virgin Mary fucking God with a strap-on and Jesus walking in the bedroom because he’s afraid of the storm to be quite funny. Do I need to say this blog is also NSFW? In case you’re a complete moron, I’m saying it now.

As you might have noticed, I save all my bitterness and sarcasm to this place, so I can socialize with other human beings in real life without trying to break the chain around my neck and eat them. So don’t expect to read about pretty flowers here, unless the pretty flowers are about to be covered in human guts.

Bwahaha.

Sigh.