Categories
Pop culture Sci-fi

[2993] To enjoy Reversi, you mustn’t work too hard

Time travel as a moving picture subject has experienced a resurgence in popularity over the past decade or so. The final chapters of the Avengers movies (especially the associated Loki series) are likely the most well-known franchise exploring the idea while incorporating the many-worlds thesis. DC does the same thing through The Flash with a slightly different (but more interesting) interpretation. On Apple TV+, there is Dark Matter adaption although it is primarily less about time travel and more about the idea of many-worlds. On Netflix, there is the insanely complicated German sci-fi Dark that requires anybody to draw up a chart to keep the story straight.

So I would think it is only natural the same fascination with time travel would hit the Malaysian film scene. It comes in the form of Reversi. That is not to say the local industry had not explored the theme before. There is XX-Ray all the way from 1992. Whether there is anything since then (notwithstanding XX-Ray sequels), the layperson in me is unaware.

I watched Reversi in the cinema recently, on the account that I thoroughly enjoyed Imaginur and that both are starred by the same lead actor, Beto Kusyairy.

But to appreciate the two-hour+ long Reversi, one must suffer an hour of tedium coupled with rude audience afflicted with boredom… before the work reveals its brilliance somewhere in the middle of the story. Just in its second week of release, Reversi was already put up in small cinema halls with an even smaller watching crowd. The slow hour was enough to have some members of the audience to be rude by scrolling their brightly lit phone or conversing above whispering level as the movie dialogue pushed its way.

When the brilliance came, it came as a shock therapy, smashing the boredom and pulling the audience’s attention back to the silver screen. That brilliance is the fact that Reversi is not a simplistic time travel story in the style of Back to the Future or XX-Ray. It is one of many-worlds with central branch that all other possible branches gravitate toward. If a person goes back to change a decision in the past, he would create a new branch where events there would attempt to mimic the consequence realized within the main branch. Fate refuses to be changed by too much.

I had trouble accepting the premise. Explanation given by various characters in the movie are dissatisfying. Questions flew everywhere in my head and so engrossed was I that I began getting distracted by my attempt at rationalization.

Before I went too deep inside the rabbit hole, I remembered that all fictions require a little bit of the suspension of belief if they are to be enjoyed. So, I pulled up and understood that my search for perfection was becoming the enemy of good.

I stepped back in mind, sat straighter in my seat and savored the brilliance of the second hour.

Hafiz Noor Shams. Some rights reservedHafiz Noor Shams. Some rights reservedHafiz Noor Shams. Some rights reserved

It is impossible to discuss Reversi without talking about the influence exerted by other movies.

The futility of changing history runs parallel to the message of The Flash. The Flash is a terrible movie but its interpretation of many-worlds is interesting enough for me. In this way, Reversi implemented the idea in a much, much better way. If you strip the many-worlds aspect, Final Destination does come to mind too.

The inheritance of time travelling ability along family line sounds familiar, but I cannot for the life of me recall the exact movie. (I’ve been informed this is About Time.)

And I think the influence of Everything Everywhere All At Once could be seen in the background. The clearest reference is the scenes where Beto Kusyairy’s character time travelling; I see Michelle Yeoh’s Evelyn Quan Wang jumping across realities.

Categories
Books & printed materials Sci-fi

[2981] Reading, listening and watching The Three-Body Problem

There have been several science-fiction novels adapted to the screens in recent years. Apple TV+’s Foundation is one. Denis Villeneuve’s Dune is the name. And the most recent is Netflix’s 3 Body Problem. In that immature adolescent pride that still exists inside of me, I am proud to say I have read all of them long before I have watched these three. So, I can understand criticisms some have about how unfaithful these screen adaptations could be.

I am not too fanatic about source fidelity. I can understand and accept different medium may require tweaks. What works in written form might not work on the screen. Foundation is the guiltiest in this sense. Despite its liberal interpretation of the books, I still enjoyed the series. Dune is also guilty but not by much. And it is not just science-fiction adaptations suffering from such criticisms. Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings has details left out but the trilogy is just incredible. In contrast, Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit appears to have added unnecessary draggy pages to make the movie series unbearable and an insult to J.R.R. Tolkien’s short book, and Jackson’s own adaptation of The Lord of the Rings.

3 Body Problem appears quite faithful to Liu Cixin’s original work The Three-Body Problem. Yes, there are some divergences as far as I can remember: the main scenes have been shifted from China to the UK and Europe (making the series whiter than it should) and several scenes including the multiplayer mode are new. But the storylines are intact as I far as I could tell.

Still, I have not watched all the episodes yet. 3 Body Problem was after all released on March 21, just three days earlier and I am not about to binge watch it. But I can say I recommend it (and the novel too, which I enjoyed thoroughly).

This brings me to a question I have in my head for some time now while watching all these adaptions. Does it matter if you either read or watch it? In fact, with the rise of audiobook, does reading, listening or watching something truly matter?

Does the medium matter?

I know different sensory approaches offer different experiences. Reading offers the greatest details but it can be a laborious exercise. Try reading The Wheel of Time from start to finish. Listening arguably offers the same level of details but, at least for me who I think processes information best through sights, the level of focus is just not there. Moving pictures losses the details but makes the material easier to understand (assuming it is not Tenet) and oftentimes, quicker as well.

I was a snob once, and that partly why I have read all these science-fictions. But as I grow older, I am realizing that there are too many books to read out there in the world. I just do not have the time to go through all of them. And even during my snobbish period, I came to know various work through the screens instead of through pages. The BBC’s Pride and Prejudice. An adaptation of The Romance of the Three Kingdoms. The 1962 adaptation of To Kill a Mockingbird. The 1939 adaptation of Gone With the Wind. I have come to know many classics through televisions and the movies, not books.

Coming back to the question. If I were younger, I would say yes it matters. Now, upon the realization there is no time, I can no longer be a snob. Now, I will say no.

Categories
Books & printed materials Fiction

[2977] How I learned to stop worrying and love Salman Rushdie’s Victory City

Reading Victory City, I found myself figuring out whether the places and persons mentioned in the book were real. It is like reading Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code: fiction is weaved through real history and that blurs the line separating the two.

But Victory City is worse than that. It is fashioned as a casual modern translation of a supposedly ancient text detailing the rise and fall of the Bisnaga Empire, which is a reference to a real entity that was the Vijayanagar Empire that covered much of southern India.

My knowledge of the Indian subcontinent history is not as good as that of other areas. That shows when I know of Vijayanagar largely from playing Europa Universalis IV.

Already having a superficial understanding of southern Indian history, the novel did not help. Is Victory City, actually based on something like Sejarah Melayu, an actual document however fanciful the details are? At the back of the novel, the author Salman Rushdie, lists sources he referred to, giving an aura of seriousness (aura of non-fiction?) to his work of fiction. He was painting a picture of 14th-15th-16th century southern India on an un-blanked canvas belonging to another painting. I was worried that would give me the wrong impression of Vijayanagar.

So worried was I, that I tried ascertaining the real history behind names and places in the book. Google. Wikipedia. The usual places for a quick lookup. But that worked up as a distraction, slowing my reading pace and disrupting the rhythm set by the book. Reading became a chore by too much.

Realizing that, I stopped my side quests, and enjoyed the book as it is, tracking the fictional life of the founder of Bisnaga, the fantastical almost immortal sage Pampa Kampana, born just before the empire was founded, and died as the empire collapsed more than two hundred years later.

Categories
Pop culture Sci-fi

[2971] Of Imaginur and Vanilla Sky

There are several post-1990s Malaysian movies that really impressed me. I want to say Malay, but the heavy English-Malay mixed medium convinces me to use the label Malaysian instead. But very, very few if any plays with your mind the way Imaginur does.

Imaginur, showing at the movies now, starts with a relatively linear storyline. But what I noticed first was the aesthetics. Being a child of the 1990s, I love the aesthetics. Equipment and vehicles seen are all quaintly in the way the 1990s is. Old Macintosh, maybe Commodore 64 or something similar, and other machines with yellowing white exterior exposed too much to sunlight decorate the room in which the hero meets a medical expert. The hero drives a dulling white (or was it red?) 5th generation Corolla, with the same sunlight turns the car’s paintwork to the same color as the Macintosh, or Commodore 64, in that room, probably in Petaling Jaya. I actually want to say one of those depilated 1960s homes near LRT Bangsar, but I digress.

The settings, for much of the movie. tells you nothing about the time. You would assume it is in contemporary period. 2023 or somewhere thereabout. After all, the clues in the background suggests all characters appear to have a tough life. A struggling copyeditor not earning enough to buy a new car. A psychiatrist dismissed as a quack by the government and so, failing to get research grants. With so little money. he is unable to purchase decent computers and equipment; hey, government hospitals still use Windows 2000 after all. There are KTM Komuter station, and various MRT running through parts of Petaling Jaya. Yes, it all appears contemporary.

Then things get weird. A Groundhog Day-like loop happens. And then another loop. And another. Each storyline reloops itself, except there are minor changes to it. It is as if there is an unreliable narrator telling the story repeatedly, and the protagonist realizes there is something wrong with his reality. He thinks he is losing his mind.

It keeps going several rounds, making it all confusingly intriguing, that you get suck into it, trying to solve a puzzle. What the fuck is happening?

I have seen similar puzzle before. The presence of a mind machine reminds me of anime Paprika. But Paprika is not a puzzle Inception is, a movie that borrows heavily from the former. I want to draw parallel with Inception, but my mind brings to a time long ago when I found myself watching Vanilla Sky on one miserable snowy Minneapolis night.

Yes, Imaginur plays with your mind the way Vanilla Sky does.

I exited the cinema, humming (really, singing) Peter Gabriel’s Solsbury Hill, because I was convinced Imaginur messed up my mind the way Vanilla Sky did. And I like Vanilla Sky.

Categories
Fiction Pop culture

[2969] First Love as unfulfilled human potential

First Love is a sad story, with an unsatisfying happy ending. Over the past few weeks, I have slowly rationalized the sadness—why did I feel so sad?—by linking two disappointments together. One disappointment is about unfulfilled love, and the other, which is our focus today, is unfulfilled human potential.

While watching the series in the first week of December, I felt sad quite early, well before I understood how First Love was about unfulfilled love (ignore the title and the song it refers to, as both foretell the story ahead of its narrative arch by too much). I knew the cause of my sadness quickly: both lovers, after growing up dreaming of achieving something great, ended up becoming a building security personnel and a cab driver. They became failures.

Both jobs are unglamorous. The two would not rank highly in things most young men and women would like to do during their mid-life years in any economy.

In the series, there is a subplot where one cab driver laments about the direction of his life. In telling the story of adult Yae Noguchi somewhere in the middle of the series, we are told that she has fallen on hard time: unable to finish university due to an accident, married early, divorced and then forced to give up her son due to relative poverty.

As the series progresses and jumping around the timelines, the sadness intensifies, because… well spoiler if you have not watched me… both of them worked hard to get into a good school. In some ways, those are underemployment, a reality for many.

p/s — happy new year. Speaking of potential, I have further thoughts on output gap and BNM rate hikes. Maybe I will post them just before Thursday, the rate decision day.