Me myself needs I

Katy Perry’s “Firework” video is worthy of note. 

 

If at all, the realities portrayed by the characters, though mostly Caucasian, cut across most races and sensibilities. The video begins with American recording artist Katy Perry singing from the porch of a building. Then as she sings, fireworks shoot from her chest to the sky.

 

Then the video cuts to scenes of young people throughout the city. There is an overweight girl who cannot join her friend swimming in a pool where a party is being held. Later in the video, she “finds the courage to shed her clothes and jump in the pool” filled with the party swimmers.

 

Then, there is a cancer-stricken child in a hospital who cannot show herself out on the street because she is balding. But she goes out just the same and sees a pregnant woman in the same hospital with fireworks coming out of the baby being born.

 

There is a young magician being mugged by hooligans in an alley but uses tricks to overcome them. A boy at home witnesses his quarreling parents and how their bickering distresses his little sister; he stands up to them and pushes them apart. Also, a young man in discotheque who takes interest in a guy approaches him and kisses him, igniting fireworks from both of them.

 

Later in the video, young people are shown converging into a castle’s courtyard. There, together with the singer, they dance and “light up the night,” with their own fireworks shooting from their chests into the sky.

 

On many levels, the song empowers the self—telling it to assert and let it shine in a time and place where others see it unfit—“You just got to ignite the light and let it shine/Just own the night, like the fourth of July.”

 

The video also reminds us of Christina Aguilera’s “Beautiful” whose lyrics read—“You are beautiful no matter what they say/Words can’t bring me down/I am beautiful in every single way/Words can’t bring me down.”

 

All characters portrayed in the video rather only exemplify the struggle of the self in a society that values apathy or indifference most probably because of diversity.  The video also seems to say that free will should be exercised by young people. Perhaps the video features self-empowerment only of the youth because the producers have considered only the Youthube audience.

 

But for all these, the video preaches tolerance for all races and sensibilities. Showing the various predicaments of young people, it asks audiences to be considerate and caring, or assertive of what the self desires—if love is too trite a word to use.

 

The song implies that no one but the self can empower himself or herself. In particular, no amount of external force can salvage the youth from their own dilemma. As another American, diplomat Eleanor Roosevelt said, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”

 

In many senses, the video allows for reflection of what the self can do what it really wants: to assert, to prevail, to shine. After all, at the end of the day, what really matters is the self soul heart [chest] making sparks in the dark.

 

Written by Katy Perry in collaboration with Mikkel S. Eriksen, Tor Erik Hermansen, Sandy Wilhelm and Ester Dean for Perry's second studio album, Teenage Dream, this sensible work won Video of the Year at the 2011 MTV Music Awards.

Realism and magic realism

Rating:	★★★
Category:	Movies
Genre:	Other

Darren Aronofsky’s Black Swan surely catches our attention because Natalie Portman’s Nina Sayers grows feathers after she kills Mila Kunis’s Lily backstage to perform the Black Swan role in the final act. You cannot just forget the film because of that.

This psychological thriller—featuring Natalie Portman’s Nina Sayers, a ballerina haunted by some schizophrenic ambition—brims with magic realism, an aesthetic style in which “magical elements are blended into a realistic atmosphere in order to access a deeper understanding of reality.” The effects particularly in the final ballet scene where Nina grows more feathers than the previous times it appeared would surely remind us of the film.

Because of the device used, we are made to believe that “magical elements are explained like normal occurrences that are presented in a straightforward manner” allowing the “real” (Nina Sayers dream to be the Swan Queen) and the “fantastic” (she really becomes a Swan) to be accepted in the same stream of thought.

The obsession to become the Swan Queen later brings into the character graphic hallucinations that eventually cost Nina Sayers’ life.

Natalie’s facial features being transformed into a swan—rouged eyes, aquiline nose and elongated neck—all compliment to a dramatic flourish—where at the end of the performance, even we the audience could be convinced that she very well looks as the best Swan Queen for Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake.

While Nina Sayers’ obsession for the Swan Queen role is enough persuasion, the horrific undertones notwithstanding, we the audience get the eerie feeling in Aronofsky’s close-up shots of the lead character who dances her way to death as the ambition-obsessed ballerina who lived and was haunted by realities she herself created.

Anyone or anything from Darren Aronofsky’s Black Swan will win an Oscar. Choreography, effects, actress. Let’s see.

Meanwhile.

The first time I watched Christian Bale’s Dicky Edlund in The Fighter, I already rooted for him to win a Best Supporting Actor citation.

A drama about boxer “Irish” Micky Ward’s unlikely road to the world light welterweight title, The Fighter features Ward’s Rocky-like rise as he is shepherded by half-brother Dicky, a boxer-turned-trainer who rebounded in life after nearly being knocked out by drugs and crime.

A far cry from Batman and his previous roles, Christian Bale’s Dicky Edlund exudes with stark realism, a has-been boxer backed up by his mother who hoped for a could have been contender, reminiscent of Marlon Brando’s Terry Malloy in Elia Kazan’s On the Waterfront (1954).

Not another boxing movie at the Oscars you might say. But there is more to this boxing movie which rather “depicts subjects as they appear in everyday life.”

In The Fighter, we see Dicky Eklund’s mere claim to fame is his 1978 boxing match with Sugar Ray Leonard, where Eklund knocked down Leonard, who eventually won the match.

Now a crack addict, Eklund is in front of HBO cameras making a documentary about him. Dicky has also acted as one of the two trainers for half-brother Micky Ward, a decade younger than him, first known as a brawler and used by other boxers as a stepping stone to better boxers.

Both boxers are managed by their overbearing mother Alice Ward (Melissa Leo) who believes it better to keep it all in the family. Now unreliable owing to his crack addiction, Dicky’s move with Alice at one of Micky’s bouts dawns on the latter that his boxing career is being stalled and even undermined by them, who are only looking out for themselves.

The situation allows Bale’s character to deliver an uncontrived performance that highlights a family drama and gives sibling rivalry a kind of high never before seen onscreen before.

Meanwhile, Amy Adams’ Charlene Fleming—Micky’s new girlfriend, a college dropout and now local bartender who inspires him—pulls out the fulcrum to the other side, opposite Micky’s family, when she salvages him from this predicament.

Much to Alice and Dick’s anger, Micky comes to choose between them and Charlene. The story’s rising action renders each character emotionally charged—each one wanting to claim what is good for the fighter, and each one being allowed to shine individually onscreen. Awesome story.

Bale’s character greatly evolved from the Batman lead role and other virile roles to one that exudes with so much life. Like Tom Hanks’ Andrew Beckett in Jonathan Demme’s Philadelphia (1993), Bale must have shed weight to fit the role of a has-been boxer who makes business out of his brother just like his mother.

Earning three Oscar nominations for Bale, Adams and Leo, The Fighter drives some of the best punches among other films I have seen in the past year.

The first time I watched it last year, I immediately thought it was essentially noteworthy of recognition. Christian Bale’s crack[ed] character is so real you will find him in your neighborhood.

With the larger-than-life performance of an underdog who wants to bounce back, Bale’s character transforms the movie about his brother to a movie about himself. If at all, he is the Fighter being referred to in the film.

Let’s see how some real practitioners of the craft consider these performances, which other people might call art.