Tag: beautiful things

On Mirrors and Second Chances

Our story starts with an accident involving a seventeen-year-old girl, two deaths, and a second Earth. That’s right. A second Earth.

Lifelong astronomy-enthusiast Rhoda Williams (Brit Marling) learns that she has been accepted into MIT the same night news about a second Earth hits the radio. Intoxicated from celebrating her acceptance into MIT, she drives home and literally crashes into the life (and car) of  John Burroughs (William Mapother), killing his wife, pregnant with their daughter, and his five-year old son on top of sending John into a coma.

She serves four years of prison time and, when she gets out, starts on a journey looking for the grace to forgive herself. She tries to apologize to a devastated John (who just woke from coma at around the same time Rhoda got off prison) but her nerve ultimately fails her and she ends up cleaning John’s house for free, all the while just waiting for the moment of her apology.

The story of how Rhoda struggles to find forgiveness is by no means unique but Another Earth still manages to stand-out with its beautiful visuals, evocative storytelling, and clever use of leitmotif. This is one of those films where you would really have to watch with the sounds on and please, whatever you do, do not try to enjoy this one with only subs—it is curious how Another Earth manages to evoke so much with so little words spoken. Indeed, I guess, pictures (and good ambient music) can paint a thousand words.

While certain elements of Another Earth‘s story definitely feels sci-fi, I am pleased to report that the whole story is something even non-sci-fi fans can find enjoyable. This is not the Star Wars/Star Trek kind of sci-fi. Think of the emotions the stories in Ray Bradbury’s The Martian Chronicles evoke and understand that Another Earth will make you feel the same way. At its core, this film is very human.

In fact, the film turns a huge blind eye to science in portraying Earth Two. They dwelt more on what is beautiful and romantic about a second Earth rather than on what is practical and, admittedly, inconvenient. For a person like me, this lack of rigor would’ve been a very big issue. However, Another Earth‘s other merits managed to extract a larger amount of tolerance on my part. Another Earth is the kind of story that asks for a huge amount of creative license from its science-oriented viewers and I advice you to grant it. You will be pleasantly surprised.

I find it funny that a slew of other things popped into my mind while watching Another Earth. On the topic of Bradbury, that scene where Rhoda’s neighborhood reacts to the news that the second Earth is not just a second Earth but even possibly a mirror Earth reminded me strongly of the third expedition in TMC, a.k.a., Mars is Heaven. The scene where John asks Rhoda what she would do were she to meet herself inadvertently reminded me of the Choices xkcd series. Maybe, it’s as I said that the story takes on a certain formula, one no stranger to current viewers.

Also of note is the fact that Another Earth came into my attention because of Mapother’s involvement in another work I’m such a huge fan of: Lost. In Lost Mapother plays the role of a rather creepy and irritating antagonist named Ethan, one of “The Others”. However, while watching Another Earth, his performance strongly reminded me of another character in Lost—a protagonist this time—by the name of John Locke. It’s a compliment when an actor’s performance for a new role erases the ire a typecast from a previous role may have formed.

To sum up, Another Earth is a magical film about forgiveness disguised as a sci-fi film. Try counting how many characters actually figure in this film, how many minutes of dialogue it features, and marvel how little it is compared to larger-scale productions. But even at that, it manages to stand out and portray more than in two hours you may spend in other productions. Alas, beautiful things come in rarely.

Another Earth is a film by Mark Cahill starring Brit Marling and William Mapother. It premiered in the 27th Sundance film festival.

How to Read a Woman

Hold her gently, like the rare and precious book she is. Don’t let her cover mislead you; it may look plain but don’t lose sight of the tapestry it hides. Take your time getting past her cover, the initial extra leaves, and when you finally set your eyes on the first words of her first chapter, take some more time to appreciate what that means. There aren’t a lot of people whom she has allowed this far. Not that there are a lot of people who would take the time to read past her cover anyway.

As her plot unravels note how different she is from all the other stories you’ve known. Hellos and goodbyes are scattered everywhere. Feel her die a little bit with every farewell. Have more faith in her happy ending with every smile.

Feel the weight of the story she lays down before you. Take in every word but concede to the fact that you may never even finish half. Know her universe and reach out. Know her fears, her dreams, her hopes, the things that make her go. Don’t laugh at them no matter how petty they may seem to be. You would not want to anger a universe.

Pay attention to her details: the passers-by who would later deliver the plot twists, the unnoticed allies who would be crucial to the denouement. Delight that her chapters are long, her words abstruse. It is not so because she wants to intimidate but because she has her complexities and this is what describes her best. Know that this complexity demands your full attention. Do not read her casually.

Let her blow your mind away through the thick of her drama, the thrill of her adventures, even in the lull of ennui. Immerse yourself in her metaphors and her contradictions. Allow her the awkward transitory scenes, the occasional plot holes. Remember that this is not a fairy tale. Understand that this is her story, just as fucked up as yours or anyone else’s.

Like all good books do, her story will tire you. You’d need your time to put her down and regroup yourself. Take this time to decide, very carefully, if there is anywhere you can help her with in writing her story. Ask for her permission and, as you ask, remember to respect her space. Do not forget that she has already given you so much by letting you read her. That your words mingle with hers is an entirely different matter.

You wouldn’t know how she’d react until it comes. She may laugh. She may cry. Heck, she may even put up a pretense of indifference. This is where you find out how tired she is of her complexities, just like everyone else. Maybe, she does not want to be a universe, just a star in someone’s sky. You should know how tired she feels. You’ve read her haven’t you?

Remind her that plain happy characters do not make a good story. Remind her of those parts of her story you found most beautiful. Remind her of her strength. Tell her that her story is just warming up, that the plot is still about to thicken, and that the climax is still way ahead. She may not know how to continue, how to handle the thickening plot or navigate the climax way ahead but that is why you’re here. You are offering her your words for those times ahead where she may find herself speechless.

She may refuse you, in which case say thank you, leave quietly, and make sure that you keep her secrets well. To do so otherwise would be unfair, childish even.

And yes, she may accept your company, in which case look at her straight in the eyes, say thank you, and assure her that you will keep her secrets well. Complicated as she is, you do not know how far into her story will you get to help write. You are probably not the first she has allowed in this role, nor will you be the last. This is an enormous responsibility but, whatever happens, do your best to make your part the episodes she’d love to relive with fondness.

Photograph(s) of the Month: Roses

Wallflower

Why am I a photoblog all of a sudden? Read about it here.

And for my first “Photograph of the Month” blog I give you roses.

They’re my mom’s. I think she acquired them around mid-month. Of course, my first instinct was to jump in and take pictures. Yay.

I know that roses—like books, butterflies, and hearts—are fragile things but I never knew that they are that delicate that it is quite a task keeping them alive. I don’t know much about gardening but my mom said something along the lines of, “I hope I can make them last”. That just gave me an idea on how fragile they can be.

Withering

Why are fragile things often beautiful? Or is it the other way around, that those which are beautiful are fragile? Roses, books, butterflies, hearts—or why I’m so sure the world is beautiful.

For next month, I guess I’ll find something moving, throw in a person or two in the frame maybe. If you head over to my DeviantArt you’ll see lot’s of flower pics in there. I find flowers that beautiful that I can’t stop myself from taking pictures when I see some interesting ones—which scares me a bit. I guess it’s every artist’s fear that he has ran out of new ideas to try, that his recurring themes are no more than reused cliche. Where do you draw the line between recurring themes and loss of fresh ideas?

But hey this post is supposed to be happy. In other news, I’m no longer doing my thesis/special problem alone. I’m with two ladies and we’re working on Porites a genus of corals. More about the problem as we progress. Yee-ha.

(According to Sir Pros, our adviser, thesis is, by definition, something you do alone. But for all intents and purposes, our special problem, usually done in pairs or in threes even in other labs, can be considered a thesis.)

‘Till next month! ~The Chad Estioco