Disappointed

I really really love Edward Norton. Any movie that bears his name, not just in starring roles, but even as producer, director or script writer, carries weight in my books. So it is with heart breaking disappointment that I acknowledge that The Incredible Hulk is really a dud.

Note, just because I think it’s a dud doesn’t mean it won’t be a commercial success. Reviews have been mixed and it has been generally acknowledged as being better than Ang Lee’s version some years ago. Better, of course, is loosely used – this version has more action (apparently, since I never watched Ang Lee’s movie) and is tied closely to the storyline of the TV series which I remember from my early TV watching days.

What exactly is wrong with the movie, you ask? Well, for starters, despite the fact that Ed Norton is a fantastic actor (anyone seen Fight Club here?), his Bruce Banner came across as being pitiful. His self-imposed isolation was sad and lonely, his search for a cure, unrelentless and determined, and yet, Dr Bruce Banner looked really pathetic. Like a lost puppy.

And then there was the dialogue. A lot of it was very unremarkable, but what was really downright fingernails-on-chalkboard was conversations between Bruce and Betty Ross. Or perhaps, I should say, the lack of conversation. They hardly said anything much of substance, despite being on the run together at some point, and mostly exchanged “long, meaningful looks” which really boiled down to lovelorn longing. A little too cheesy if you ask me. And there’s the crying alone and staring into space which really got me.

This whole issue with the dialogue was really quite crushing for me because Ed Norton co-wrote the script. I mean, isn’t he better than this? Why did he write such dross?

The Hulk, in comparison, was reasonably entertaining, computer graphics and all. At least I felt he was doing something more than be pitiful and lovesick. I wasn’t too impressed, however, with the Neanderthal roar at every first available chance he got. I mean, the Hulk’s not meant to be too smart, but really, do we have to play up the caveman bit that much?

And lastly, the Abomination, although I don’t think he’s called that in the movie. He didn’t offend me at all, but I got a bit annoyed with the fight between him and the Hulk. By the way the director shot the movie, it looked like the smaller Hulk was able to defeat the huge Abomination because of the love in his heart. Yeah, you heard me. It was those meaningful glances at Betty yet again during battle that got through the Hulk’s caveman brain to Bruce Banner somewhere inside. He was able to fight harder because of the love in his heart. Yeeeech. I mean, COME ON. This is the HULK. The not-so-smart one. From the linguistic ability alone, it would appear the Abomination actually had more of his original smarts (Blonsky) than the Hulk. And yet, of course, this being a good-triumphs-evil movie, the Hulk, standing about a head shorter than the Abomination, almost throttles his adversary, only to be stopped by his lady love (would she stop interferring already) who I can only suppose did what she did so that her love would not become a murderer. And of course, all this would happen before a watching crowd and this display of humanity towards the bad guy establishes the Hulk as the good guy before the public.

What I wanted to know, though, is that the Abomination, having had the wind almost choked out of him, was defeated, yes, but definitely not dead. How on earth, when no one else could subdue him, did the military cart him off safely and securely? Chains won’t work, guns don’t work, indeed, nothing really looks strong enough to work. The only thing I could conclude is that he will return again in the next movie (or maybe even the next after that) to fight the Hulk. But good luck to the military in containing him in the meantime.

The only vague highlight at the end of the film was the appearance of Tony Stark. It was a total setup for the next movie, but hey, given that Robert Downey Jr single-handedly made Ironman a recent Marvel hero favourite, I wouldn’t say that’s a bad thing.

Freedom

Otherwise known as the first day of school. Four hours of peace and quiet.

N’s off to a promising start, although the next few days will tell me if it’s really as good as I hope it will be. He waved at me cheerily after being handed over to the teacher this morning, which is way way way way more than I could have asked for. FIngers crossed the day goes well and that he’s just as cheery tomorrow.

No small amount of thanks goes to his big sister for prepping him this last couple of weeks. Nothing like a bossy older sister to tell you what school’s all about. Even better than she happens to love school and skips off merrily to her bus each day.

The sad truth and other bits of randomness

Even as I sit here in my work corner (i.e. my “office”) which, after this many months, is finally coming together, with mounds and mounds of paperwork to tackle, all I can really think of is the sad truth.

That my arse has moved to waddle mode at warp speed.

I mean, here I was not too long ago, with the worst morning sickness in my three-pregnancy history, unable to hold down much food other than bread and jam for the longest time, losing a few kilos while my poor little bean sat in me, probably starving away (and yet, miraculously, thank God, still growing). And now, this many weeks into that happy, wonderful, blissful time called the second trimester, when I now can eat what I want and eat copiously at that, I find I am gaining weight, not where it matters (ahem), but where it is not wanted. I mean, how mean can this all be – I can finally eat anything and everything to my heart’s content, including two soft boiled eggs at Ah Kun and all the roti prata the rest of this family can stomach, and I suddenly feel this need to WATCH IT. Sigh. How very miserable.

In other news, I am happy to announce we have survived the school holidays. Our helper will soon be home and the children will be off to school. Both, thankfully, are looking forward to it. One, unfortunately, knows little of what it means. But I am an old hand at chucking a child at school. Get them out, that’s my motto. N’s been looking longingly at his “school” now for a few months now, since it’s really just down our road. He’s so excited to go, I almost feel sorry for the tears he is bound to shed for a while. I’ve explained many times now that he will go alone and while he happily nods and agrees that Mommy, MaMa, Auntie and Cheh Cheh will stay home while he goes, this will be a traumatic time for him. Still, the pity I feel is not strong enough. I can smell freedom, if only for a few hours, once the both of them are packed off to school, and I want it. Tears be damned.

Separately, I am continuing to make progress around this house. I managed to accomplish the highly unimportant task of sorting the children’s clothes and packing away things that can’t be worn anymore. I have also have new plans for bigger projects, projects which probably only excite me. The largest of which is filing. Yes, you heard me. I intend to fully revamp my filing system and move old stuff into cold storage. Moving house always does this to me – the need to re-order and re-file – but each time, the project gets bigger because we have more files. D doesn’t understand this compulsion in me. Frankly, I don’t think anyone does, except my dad. Because I am his daughter and he himself has devoted much time to re-ordering and re-filing the archives that sit in his house. Ah, the joy.

But first, before all that happy joy, I must get more boxes out of our room. And that entails a trip down to get more plastic boxes. Where we have no storage, I get plastic boxes. Because they annoy me much less than cardboard boxes.

It can’t be a bad thing

Overheard in the kids’ bedroom around bedtime:

S: N, you must read the Bible and pray everday (in reference to one of the school taught songs, Always Read the Bible and Pray). You MUST do it. I mean, would you want to stay short forever?

Religious education obviously still needs some fine tuning, but she’s not really on the wrong track, is she?

Should I or shouldn’t I?

Call it quits. To be honest, I can hardly find anything interesting to blog about. And I’m sure it’s showing in the rather dreary posts I’ve been putting up of late. Over the past year, I have considered winding things up here once and for all, but the truth is, I enjoy digging through my archives and finding bits of interesting stuff that I’ve written about over the years. It is that which makes me willing to keep this blog alive, to have something that records moments, no matter how seemingly insignificant they are. I could start a regular journal, without people looking in, but hey, I can’t say I don’t enjoy my little soapbox in cyberspace. I’ve turned off comments now for more than a year because I now don’t care how many (or few, as the case probably is) people read this. Comments just makes me feel obliged to do something about readership. 

And so, this blog survives yet again to see another day.