Saturday, August 04, 2007
On the Road Again
Thursday was film festival night with the MU Film Society!
Poor Roger (the president of the club) had forgot to bring his special identifying hat (a physics vector sign) and was worrying that film society people would miss him and stand around like lost sheep.
"Should I put my hands over my head?" he asked me anxiously.
"Um," I replied.
"Well", he muses, "maybe if I call someone to get the hat from uni..."
"Here," I say, passing him my black eyeliner. "Just write 'film society' on a piece of paper and wave it around. Which he proceeds to do, except he triple underlines the words, wasting one and a half day's worth of eye liner.
The film we watched, Red Road was an immensely draining and intense movie. Hoo-boy! Painfully clautrophobic close-up shots, dizzying hand held camera work, an absence of soundtrack (replaced instead by haunting chimes and whispers), raw and gritty mise-en-scene, meandering editing... what an experience! Halfway through I felt so giddy I had to bend over and grasp my knees just so I wouldn't throw up. This is the stuff that film society dreams are made of, I suppose, films you wouldn't normally watch, films that disturb and disorient you, films that shock so much they are virtually un-rewatchable.
After the film ended I went with Roger and two of three who came (one left early) to discuss the film. The discussion lasted only 10 minutes, and though I ached to make comparisons between Red Road and Hitchcock's films, I felt silly and thought I would sound pretentious and so shut up. Poppy, the only other girl who came, is doing her Honours year in Cinema Studies, and despite being far more advanced in her understanding of cinema than I am, did not condescend to discuss thematic similarities and motifs in the film. Soon, the conversation turned to Physics, and Roger went on quite a bit about his research. He did have funny anecdotes about his lecturers, and I found myself completely mersmerised by his steady blue gaze amidst the flickering yellow light of the bar. At the same time, I was filled with a sort of melancholy - I miss studying Physics, I really do. And his enthusiastic stories and explanations, while very enjoyable, only made more keen my sense of loss. Knowing that my course isn't as highly valued in society and among my family members did not help very much either.
This is it - I guess - the reason for my procrastination, for the late night wanderings which makes sitting down to do work nearly impossible. I'm not sure of what I'm doing with my life - the shame and vulnerability I experience in creative writing class (not helped by having Toilet Boy, of all people, sit next to me as I read out my piece in a trembling voice); the restraint I feel in my gender studies class; the dread that accompanies each film theory tutorial; the barely flickering enthusiasm that I greet each Media lecture.
No, I am not thriving. I am not flourishing. Problems with friends, study complications, troubles with time management - all coming to a tumbling head. I do not lie when I say I love uni. But to pretend it's all fun and games would be a veritable triumph of dishonesty and self-delusion.
Poor Roger (the president of the club) had forgot to bring his special identifying hat (a physics vector sign) and was worrying that film society people would miss him and stand around like lost sheep.
"Should I put my hands over my head?" he asked me anxiously.
"Um," I replied.
"Well", he muses, "maybe if I call someone to get the hat from uni..."
"Here," I say, passing him my black eyeliner. "Just write 'film society' on a piece of paper and wave it around. Which he proceeds to do, except he triple underlines the words, wasting one and a half day's worth of eye liner.
The film we watched, Red Road was an immensely draining and intense movie. Hoo-boy! Painfully clautrophobic close-up shots, dizzying hand held camera work, an absence of soundtrack (replaced instead by haunting chimes and whispers), raw and gritty mise-en-scene, meandering editing... what an experience! Halfway through I felt so giddy I had to bend over and grasp my knees just so I wouldn't throw up. This is the stuff that film society dreams are made of, I suppose, films you wouldn't normally watch, films that disturb and disorient you, films that shock so much they are virtually un-rewatchable.
After the film ended I went with Roger and two of three who came (one left early) to discuss the film. The discussion lasted only 10 minutes, and though I ached to make comparisons between Red Road and Hitchcock's films, I felt silly and thought I would sound pretentious and so shut up. Poppy, the only other girl who came, is doing her Honours year in Cinema Studies, and despite being far more advanced in her understanding of cinema than I am, did not condescend to discuss thematic similarities and motifs in the film. Soon, the conversation turned to Physics, and Roger went on quite a bit about his research. He did have funny anecdotes about his lecturers, and I found myself completely mersmerised by his steady blue gaze amidst the flickering yellow light of the bar. At the same time, I was filled with a sort of melancholy - I miss studying Physics, I really do. And his enthusiastic stories and explanations, while very enjoyable, only made more keen my sense of loss. Knowing that my course isn't as highly valued in society and among my family members did not help very much either.
This is it - I guess - the reason for my procrastination, for the late night wanderings which makes sitting down to do work nearly impossible. I'm not sure of what I'm doing with my life - the shame and vulnerability I experience in creative writing class (not helped by having Toilet Boy, of all people, sit next to me as I read out my piece in a trembling voice); the restraint I feel in my gender studies class; the dread that accompanies each film theory tutorial; the barely flickering enthusiasm that I greet each Media lecture.
No, I am not thriving. I am not flourishing. Problems with friends, study complications, troubles with time management - all coming to a tumbling head. I do not lie when I say I love uni. But to pretend it's all fun and games would be a veritable triumph of dishonesty and self-delusion.
Labels: University
# posted by me lah @ 7:10 pm 
