Every so often, a film comes along that, for no particular reason, just clicks with you. You don't want to turn it off. If you rented it, you want to buy it. If you bought it, you wish you paid more.
Taken is just such a film.
Two minutes in, I knew Liam Neeson was the man for the job. I don't know why; maybe it was how he had a repore with the Indian retailer, or how he creases out every edge of the present he buys his daughter. This is a man who has his priorities. He has friends, he has mannerisms, but he is precise.
Watch the movie. Just... just watch it, okay? I'm not trying ot sell you the movie. Nobody is paying me to do this (yet), nobody has any vested interest in my endorsement (yet). This is one guy, who enjoys the hell out of a movie, telling someone - a complete stranger - that this is a defining film.
Done? Okay.
Freakin' awesome, eh?!
Why do we see three seconds of this man creasing corners on a present, or a retailer making a seemingly off-handed comment about him examining a product numerous times? He is efficient. It is a deliberate hint, only two minutes in, that this man knows what he is doing.
Goddamn, it's about time a film gave us characters who were developed enough that the remaining hour in the film makes sense. He is a nice enough character to be on a first-name basis with a rockstar; he keeps promises to his daughter, as his CIA colleagues inform us through anecdote; he pays attention to detail, as I mentioned; he can fight, as his defence of Holly Vallance displays.
There is nothing in this film that is displayed that we don't already have a hint of, to the point that we sometimes can second-guess the film itself. I think that's a sign of a good movie. You can throw a twist, but it might not make a lick of sense. Just because I'm fooled does not make the twist necessarily good. The scene where Liam Neeson uses a walkie-talkie, linked to a mobile phone? I've used walkie-talkies in security gigs; I know what they look like. I knew what he was doing. It was clever. I've seen a lot of movies in my time, and none have done that twist that I have noticed. I applaude them for doing it; I applaude myself for seeing it coming. I feel smart seeing it pan out. I like the movie a little bit more for making me feel clever, yet still throwing a few odd curveballs at me.
When Peter tries to pick up Ingrid, the Swede, it becomes intense. You've seen these men in action. You know what they can do. In sweeps freakin' Liam Neeson, kickin' ass and takin' names. He owns Peter. He owns Peter's partner. He chases down Peter in a car and gets the dude smashed by a truck.
At this point, I was content to turn the film off. I was satisfied beyond belief. This is a man who does not get pushed around. He kicks ass. Yes, it's one of the most concrete cliches in film history - and at no point did I care. I wanted to keep checks, to see relevent points in the film, so I kept it on pause. I started re-watching it, picking key moments. Before I knew it, I was watching irrelevent points in the film. So enraptured, I was drawn in time and again.
My sister only rented this movie? I'm going out next chance I get and buying it. Hell, I will pirate it and just give Liam Neeson my $30!
Once he freed the enslaved girl, something clicked. "My God," I thought. "This just a French re-telling of Tom Clancy's Without Remorse!" And then, I thought, "Wait, who gives a shit?"
According to Wiki, a few critics are comparing it to 24. I can see something of a resemblance. It's vaguely there. How anyone missed the references to Without Remorse, hell knows, but they're there and they're plentiful.
This film, I think more than any I've see in a while, had me smiling. Here is an immoral, evil bunch of bastards, if ever there were any. They have no respect for human life, or women, and they are pricks to any and all.
When you see a guy, established as a nice person, such as Liam Neeson, kicking their ass, then it makes it all the more satisfying. I smiled constantly. This film had me smiling.
If you like to see bad guys getting owned, like they deserve, this is your film. It is the ending of Casino Royale, stretched over an entire film, multipled by 100 and set on fire.
It's win.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Rant: Customers
Ignore any and all spelling or grammatical errors; I'm writing this under the influence of alcohol, and fully aware that I'm under the influence of alcohol.
Let me preface this. Let me rationalise what I just said.
I love my country, Australia. Would consider dying for it and would most certainly take an injury for it - to throw another tangent into the realm of tangents, too many people readily die for their country without meaning it. This I know, I love being alive, so I would not rather die, but even an injury is a sign of respect; considering we are talking about a loose conglomerate of people on a landmass of a planet, this is a pretty serious commitment.
Okay, back to the point-made-from-the-point. Australians are great. Australia Day is awesome, it's fully of both nationalist and internationalist pride. It's one of the few countries where you could run a TV advertisement for the country and have a slew of different nationalities without intentionally looking like a political gimmick. There is a genuine mix of ethnicities - if you need to realise this, spend a day at the University of New South Wales. You will encounter a South African film studies student, witness a Frenchman and a German making friends on the bus, plow through a dozen Asians on the way to philosophy, in order to see a Scotsman cop abuse from a Greek lecturer (all in good fun, of course).
But, shit.
Australia lacks a Bill of Rights. We only have, technically, the United Nations Declaration of Human Rights. Only legal studies makes me want to underline that document. I've read it, or at least, glanced at it. Nothing in that document declares "the right to cheap alcohol".
So if you want to come in this particular store, realise a few inherent things about Australia.
1) a 19 year old will never own and operate a liquor store, or have a seat in government. In even the most productive country in the world, this will never be the case;
2) if you do not like prices, you simply do not have to pay them;
3) violence against women? Australia says no.
4) only owners/managers and breweries/suppliers have control over prices; for the former, they control the percentage added to cost price, for the latter, they control cost price. Refer to 1).
5) the House of Representatives, as voted by the majority in various electorates across this liberal democracy, decides on new laws and taxes, which are then reviewed. A new tax is decided by the government. If you wish to know who cannot be in governemnt, refer to 1).
6) there is no universally declared right to cheap alcohol.
7) if you were observant of the world around you, you would have perhaps noticed the man sitting at the bus stop. If you worked in the store you just left, you would have noticed this man sitting on a low brick wall at 9:15pm. This man has no home. He spends his day drink beer and smoking the occasional cigarette. This man has the right to complain about prices, not you.
If you followed carefully all these points, and you are the kind of person who reads blogs, and are the kind of person who visited a certain local bottle shop in Australia, you may currently feel like an asshole.
Not likely; you probably lack a conscience.
In a nutshell, I do not enforce new government taxes. I do not control prices. I merely get paid to serve customers and restock the store before closing. That is all. No, I have not tried everything in the store, you clown - what? You want me to spend my hard-earned money to try shit so I can tell you if it's worth buying? Kiss my left ass cheek.
What? You don't wanna pay the recommended retail price for a beer? You want to go to another liquor store? Then go, but don't ring your bell so loudly in the store, because I. do. not. care. I would rather not be in the same room as you. Yes. Grab your wife by the wrist forcefully. Make her apologise, embarrassed by your behaviour, ashamed to be leaving with such a tight-ass. Don't worry, you won't hear the smart-ass reply of "No, we feel sorry for you" thrown at your wife.
Of course you won't hear anyone. You won't hear the smug reply of "See ya" as you walk out bitching about prices. You live in a bubble of self-righteousness.
Raise your hand if you work in the liquor industry.
See that? That is your hand not being raised, you pretentious fuck. You don't know how shit works, so keep your mouth shut, and we won't think of you as a fucktard. Let's clear things up in the only logical way: Bullet points.
- Supply and demand, fuckface. Suppliers charge what they think is reasonable to cover their staff, cost of shipping and to still turn a tidy profit when considering retail cost. Supply and demand is the basis of the entire Australian economy. Go back to Medieval feudalism, you peasant asshole.
- Supply and demand, dumbass. If something is taxed, a retailer pays the tax to bring in stock. If a tax is removed, a supplier must still clear out their old stock before they can lower their retail price to compensate. No, the price did not go up immediately after the government introduced this tax. No, we will not lower the price immediately after the Senate rejects this tax. You know why? No, better yet, I will show you why. See this? This is $5. This is $5 out of my wages. This is $5 out of my employer's pocket. This is $5 out of the cost of running the fridges all night, so you will have cold drinks tomorrow. This is $5 out of the rent of this building, in a prime position in a local shopping center.
You cannot have my $5, you clown. This is my $5. If I charged you what you want me to charge you, I will basically open this register and give you my $5. Does this make sense to you? Yes, of course it does, because you are making money. Oh yes, you're reluctant to give me money for something you want, but you obviously want my money for doing jack all. Have it. Of course. Then ride your magical pixie fairy back to the land of Never-never, where you will be boned by the princess of win in the rockin' bed of awesome.
Your beard is bad, and you should feel bad.
What have we learned today, children?
+ Treat retailers with some degree of respect, like you are a human being with some dignity. No, treating them like shit does not make you look cool. In fact, it does not make them feel bad. It makes you look bad. Appearance is everything, genius.
+ It is more dignified to enter and leave in silence. Do not like prices? Leave quietly. Do not make it known that you refuse this price; it makes you look like a cheap bastard that is not worth his weight in dog muck.
+ Alcohol is a privilege, not a right. If you recall earlier, I mentioned an old man sleeping outside tonight? Of course not. Your mind works "me me me me me", not "intently reading this person's perspective on the world". He is sleeping the cold tonight. You are sleeping in a warm bed, with cheap, warm beer in your belly, beside a woman who is absolutely ashamed of how badly you treat other people. Enjoy it - while it lasts. Not everyone is as stupid as you. One day, they will turn on you, and then, not amount of bitching is going to lower the price of your own redemption.
You have been weighed.
You have been measured.
You are an asshole. Go away. Go away quietly.
Nobody cares.
Nobody wants to know you.
You are worthless.
The beer, as over-priced as you might think it is, is worth more than you.
See ya.
Leper.
Let me preface this. Let me rationalise what I just said.
I love my country, Australia. Would consider dying for it and would most certainly take an injury for it - to throw another tangent into the realm of tangents, too many people readily die for their country without meaning it. This I know, I love being alive, so I would not rather die, but even an injury is a sign of respect; considering we are talking about a loose conglomerate of people on a landmass of a planet, this is a pretty serious commitment.
Okay, back to the point-made-from-the-point. Australians are great. Australia Day is awesome, it's fully of both nationalist and internationalist pride. It's one of the few countries where you could run a TV advertisement for the country and have a slew of different nationalities without intentionally looking like a political gimmick. There is a genuine mix of ethnicities - if you need to realise this, spend a day at the University of New South Wales. You will encounter a South African film studies student, witness a Frenchman and a German making friends on the bus, plow through a dozen Asians on the way to philosophy, in order to see a Scotsman cop abuse from a Greek lecturer (all in good fun, of course).
But, shit.
Australia lacks a Bill of Rights. We only have, technically, the United Nations Declaration of Human Rights. Only legal studies makes me want to underline that document. I've read it, or at least, glanced at it. Nothing in that document declares "the right to cheap alcohol".
So if you want to come in this particular store, realise a few inherent things about Australia.
1) a 19 year old will never own and operate a liquor store, or have a seat in government. In even the most productive country in the world, this will never be the case;
2) if you do not like prices, you simply do not have to pay them;
3) violence against women? Australia says no.
4) only owners/managers and breweries/suppliers have control over prices; for the former, they control the percentage added to cost price, for the latter, they control cost price. Refer to 1).
5) the House of Representatives, as voted by the majority in various electorates across this liberal democracy, decides on new laws and taxes, which are then reviewed. A new tax is decided by the government. If you wish to know who cannot be in governemnt, refer to 1).
6) there is no universally declared right to cheap alcohol.
7) if you were observant of the world around you, you would have perhaps noticed the man sitting at the bus stop. If you worked in the store you just left, you would have noticed this man sitting on a low brick wall at 9:15pm. This man has no home. He spends his day drink beer and smoking the occasional cigarette. This man has the right to complain about prices, not you.
If you followed carefully all these points, and you are the kind of person who reads blogs, and are the kind of person who visited a certain local bottle shop in Australia, you may currently feel like an asshole.
Not likely; you probably lack a conscience.
In a nutshell, I do not enforce new government taxes. I do not control prices. I merely get paid to serve customers and restock the store before closing. That is all. No, I have not tried everything in the store, you clown - what? You want me to spend my hard-earned money to try shit so I can tell you if it's worth buying? Kiss my left ass cheek.
What? You don't wanna pay the recommended retail price for a beer? You want to go to another liquor store? Then go, but don't ring your bell so loudly in the store, because I. do. not. care. I would rather not be in the same room as you. Yes. Grab your wife by the wrist forcefully. Make her apologise, embarrassed by your behaviour, ashamed to be leaving with such a tight-ass. Don't worry, you won't hear the smart-ass reply of "No, we feel sorry for you" thrown at your wife.
Of course you won't hear anyone. You won't hear the smug reply of "See ya" as you walk out bitching about prices. You live in a bubble of self-righteousness.
Raise your hand if you work in the liquor industry.
See that? That is your hand not being raised, you pretentious fuck. You don't know how shit works, so keep your mouth shut, and we won't think of you as a fucktard. Let's clear things up in the only logical way: Bullet points.
- Supply and demand, fuckface. Suppliers charge what they think is reasonable to cover their staff, cost of shipping and to still turn a tidy profit when considering retail cost. Supply and demand is the basis of the entire Australian economy. Go back to Medieval feudalism, you peasant asshole.
- Supply and demand, dumbass. If something is taxed, a retailer pays the tax to bring in stock. If a tax is removed, a supplier must still clear out their old stock before they can lower their retail price to compensate. No, the price did not go up immediately after the government introduced this tax. No, we will not lower the price immediately after the Senate rejects this tax. You know why? No, better yet, I will show you why. See this? This is $5. This is $5 out of my wages. This is $5 out of my employer's pocket. This is $5 out of the cost of running the fridges all night, so you will have cold drinks tomorrow. This is $5 out of the rent of this building, in a prime position in a local shopping center.
You cannot have my $5, you clown. This is my $5. If I charged you what you want me to charge you, I will basically open this register and give you my $5. Does this make sense to you? Yes, of course it does, because you are making money. Oh yes, you're reluctant to give me money for something you want, but you obviously want my money for doing jack all. Have it. Of course. Then ride your magical pixie fairy back to the land of Never-never, where you will be boned by the princess of win in the rockin' bed of awesome.
Your beard is bad, and you should feel bad.
What have we learned today, children?
+ Treat retailers with some degree of respect, like you are a human being with some dignity. No, treating them like shit does not make you look cool. In fact, it does not make them feel bad. It makes you look bad. Appearance is everything, genius.
+ It is more dignified to enter and leave in silence. Do not like prices? Leave quietly. Do not make it known that you refuse this price; it makes you look like a cheap bastard that is not worth his weight in dog muck.
+ Alcohol is a privilege, not a right. If you recall earlier, I mentioned an old man sleeping outside tonight? Of course not. Your mind works "me me me me me", not "intently reading this person's perspective on the world". He is sleeping the cold tonight. You are sleeping in a warm bed, with cheap, warm beer in your belly, beside a woman who is absolutely ashamed of how badly you treat other people. Enjoy it - while it lasts. Not everyone is as stupid as you. One day, they will turn on you, and then, not amount of bitching is going to lower the price of your own redemption.
You have been weighed.
You have been measured.
You are an asshole. Go away. Go away quietly.
Nobody cares.
Nobody wants to know you.
You are worthless.
The beer, as over-priced as you might think it is, is worth more than you.
See ya.
Leper.
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