Parenthood

Like many other movies and sitcoms shown on television nowadays, (one sitcom that comes to mind: Raising Hope and The Middle) Parenthood contains familial themes and values that most people are familiar with. What I have noticed about these films that portray struggles of parents in coping with their children is that there are big differences in how local or Asian cinema and television depict them and how the Western culture does. I will not generalize or state that cinematic depictions are indeed what happens in actual life, but to a certain extent, I suppose it's only logical to conclude so; culture plays a large role in what shapes a particular society which in return, influences the arts and many other sectors in societies.

From my cinematic experiences, I have noticed that Western parents place more emphasis on freedom of choice and speech, something most Asian parents would usually have more control of. Reviewing for instance, a Malay, Indonesian or Korean drama and an American sitcom or movie, there is an obviously massive dissimilarity between methods of communication, tones of speech and body language when speaking to one's elders or handling a family issue. Western parenting seems to cover a wide range of different options (therapy, grounding, serious family meetings ect) where children are actively involved in the decision making process whereas Asian parenting places emphasis on one sound judgement, usually made by either parent where the child does not contribute to the overall outcome when an issue arises. 

For some reason, it appears to me that Western parents fear harsh confrontation and almost always try ways to soften the blow.There seems to be a lot of emphasis on mental development and disorders. Western parents are portrayed to almost always seek the help of psychologists and self-help materials compared to Asian parents, who rather take matters into their own hands. One episode of Raising Hope showed Hope (the toddler) drawing on the house walls and breaking her grandmother's pig figurines. Virginia (the grandmother) was obviously upset but had a debate wit Jimmy (Hope's father) about who should "punish" her because both were afraid of seeming like the "bad cop" to Hope. Which leads me to this: Bad cop and good cop. I've never seen that concept in local/Asian theater. What would normally be the case is one parent would usually be portrayed as submissive, the other dominant, which seems to be tied to cultural norms.

Although Parenthood provides an array of different parenting styles, it pretty much boils down to the same thing. There's a vibe about how parenting styles are portrayed in Western media that emphasizes a wholesome and at times, submissive attitude toward their offspring. Another thing I have noticed is Western parents, once again, as portrayed in films, always seem to want to spend time with their children, and place great importance on spending at least once a week with their members, and at times, go through much hassle and lengths in doing so. That is one aspect I rarely see in films here. Local and Asian films have a somewhat controlled outlook where everyone is engaged in everyday routines and rituals because that seems to be priority. 

The Fisher King

Initial thoughts.
The movie kicked off with your everyday American movie radio studio atmosphere where a radio deejay seemed like he was going at it for years, experienced in every aspect of his job, and loves what he's doing. With crushing waves of arrogance and cynicism enough to submerge the entire building, the promising radio host boisterously delivered his solid and impenetrable "wisdom" of relationships to Edwin, a caller who I'm personally sure, dialed the wrong number. He had to! Why else would anyone want to speak to someone who was widely known for his ability to literally slaughter your every opinion mercilessly? And for the second time?

So this Jack Lucas seemed to be living the life. The scene in his bathroom where he kept reciting the words "Hey, forgive me" in order to master it for a possible TV show role, coupled with a sense of his everyday rituals in his fashionably dehumanized high-rise apartment, and the way he previously sneered at a panhandler behind dark glasses in his limousine instigated that Jack is instantly symbolic of the cold-hearted excess of his time. It was funny how years later, his quest for real forgiveness began which ultimately taught him a real lesson. "Hey, forgive me" indeed.

The characters.
The characters blended in and created a superb cinematic experience that highlighted each and every character's plight toward their ideals; the love-struck and strongly opinionated Anne who constantly failed at rekindling and lifting her boyfriend's spirits, the present day demoralized Jack who had nothing else to live for until meeting Parry and making the decision that will change both their lives forever, the optimistic and obviously traumatic Parry who was smitten for a woman from afar, and the shy and socially awkward Lydia who was highly inexperienced to all matters pertaining to love and romance.
Jack was visibly unable to forgive himself for the tragedy that struck the Manhattan restaurant and discovering that the homeless man who takes many of his cues from visions of "hundreds of the cutest little fat people floating right in front of me" was in actual fact a victim of his radio show masquerade made him feel that he could finally seek redemption for the grave consequences he had been living with for the longest time.

Jack had two main tasks: To bring Lydia and Perry together and to retrieve the Holy Grail, and needless to say, it was definitely one heck of a ride. The relationship that blossomed with Parry enabled even the cynical Jack to get off his high horse and view things from a more simplistic and emotionally-attuned spectrum. I think Jack was guided by something a little more than mere sympathy when he kept following Parry around despite his initial thoughts to just flee the scene; Jack spent an enormous amount of time Parry, even for the most trivial of matters , and at some points, even lost track of time when they were together.

The disorder.
In my opinion, the inconsistencies and abnormalities of Parry's everyday behavior was not very well thought in terms of portrayal and deliverance. I think that through the lenses of the producers, Parry's character was meant to embody these emotional disturbances as layman and as less serious as possible. Parry's character is what everyday people would describe as "crazy" or "emotionally disturbed", not "shizophrenic" or having a "delusional disorder" or "post traumatic stress disorder", as how we psychology majors would be able to identify. How would one classify Parry as having a real disorder when humor was injected in his every movement, his every speech?It would be different if this movie took on a more serious script, one that really captured a character's discrepancies clearly with notable symptoms. But if I really had to diagnose Parry, and based on what I have gathered, I would say that Parry was schizophrenic. In order to be categorized as possessing the disorder, one would have to be displaying at least 2 of the following for more than a 6 month period: delusions, hallucinations, disorganized speech, catatonic behavior and negative behavior, also known as loss of normal functioning. I would say that the only 2 characteristics that Parry embodied were hallucinating and having delusions. Although it wasn't clear when Parry began carrying these symptoms, or how they progressed over time, a safe bet would be to say it began not long after his wife's passing.

Parry's delusions took form in his beliefs about the existence of the Holy Grail and its majestic qualities. His hallucinations on the other hand, was his ability to "see" the fat little people that surrounding him and the symbolic Red Knight that he sometimes chased, and who sometimes chased him, which could be emblematic to him sometimes wanting to remember, and at other times, wanting to forget the traumatic experience. I believe that schizophrenia was a direct consequences of PTSD, which he still experiences alongside the schizo. The intrusive, distressing recollections happened at full force after Parry had walked Lydia home. The memory suddenly flooded his mind and the Red Knight appeared, this time, chasing Parry.

Last thoughts.
The film did fare well in portraying the enthusiasm of the mythological aspects that centralized it, and the central myth did seem pertinent in a modern-day setting. The Fisher King accommodated Medieval and Modern rather fascinatingly, though some parts were a little "clutter-ish" in terms of narrative. The film managed to take the very philosophy of redemption and forgiveness to a different level, twisting the very fibre of reality and rationality, and turning it into something every person could root for.

The Castle

This was certainly unlike anything I have ever watched before. There was something very simplistic and ordinary about it; I can easily imagine many households to have the kind of connection and tight-knit relationship the way the Kerrigans do. So the show starts off with Dale, narrating, telling the viewers about his family and their usual rituals. The way in which it was narrated made me feel like I was reading a children's book, as it was told in a very gullible and repetitive manner, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing, just...different. Darryl was portrayed as a strikingly positive person, always looking at the glass as half full, never letting anything get to him, and had such respect from his family it would appear they'd put him on a pedestal, and worship the very ground he walked on. Shortly after, everything became topsy-turvy as they were threatened to give up their humble abode in the name of development, and the ever glorious, ever optimistic Daryl turned sour and grew weary, desperate to keep his home and family right where they belong. The rest of the film reveals Daryl's quest to fight the system alongside his supportive family, nutty neighbors, his even nuttier pro-bono self-proclaimed lawyer and eventually winning back his property with the help of the excellent retired royal attorney.

So what was the huge hype and what made this 1997 production so successful and withheld the test of time?
My guess is the humor and ironies of life which most can identify with. Secondly, the lack of any concrete and complex ideas behind the film would make it an easy watch, given the right mental state. Thirdly, I suppose many would find it relateable given the familial values that intertwined and themes that surrounded the film. And last but not least, who doesn't like a happy ending? My advice for those who had to sit through a horror flick and loathed every moment of it: This would be a darn good neutralizer. Finito.

The Sixth Sense

I remember watching The Sixth Sense when I was 12. And a hundred times more on HBO the following years. Naturally, I knew what and who to expect and of course, the well-known twist at the end. What I liked most about the film was the script and how it was directed. For some reason, horror producers these days seem to think that fear and disgust are interchangeable among viewers; throwing in a few spirits with ungodly amounts of blood oozing out of recently missing limbs is supposed to have the same effect as engaging the audiences deepest fears and playing with their imaginations. News flash: Gore is not synonym to actual thrill and fear. Which is why horror themed films like The sixth Sense is much appreciated. I would consider Syamalan a true architect for exactly those reasons. The Happening, Unbreakable, The Lady in the Water, The Signs and The Village do not scream out fast-paced progressions (some would protest that his productions are "head-numbingly" boring), nor do they exhibit those mainstream cinematic themes most people find comfort in watching. What I like about The Sixth Sense and the rest is that there is a certain eeriness about them, how he craftily manages to "trap" his viewers into believing a certain idea or concept while steadily diverting to what was "supposed to be", tapping into the unknown and unconventional, and never straying away from engaging viewers' imaginations. True horror/thrill is, in my opinion, how a film tells it, not what is shown.

So. Cole. The boy who "sees dead people" has the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. And that's believable too. When Cole is afraid, the whole cinema is afraid with him. When he had the breakthrough and was finally free from torment, his smile seemed like it lit the entire hall. The emotions displayed were not superficial and futile, they were raw and capturing. Largely a two-person show, Toni Collett lends a hand by playing a supportive and frumpy mother who knows her child is extraordinary but is confused by his demeanor and cannot begin to understand him. Cole's mother was obviously stressed out and mostly infuriated by the strange behavior of her son, and most of the conflict resulted from Cole's inability to meet her halfway. How could he anyway? His mother was the only one he had, and the last thing he wanted was her looking at him differently; a "freak", just like everyone else.  Nevertheless, their relationship is loving one, and the trust and protectiveness that exists between them got the better of the situation. The story cultivates many life lessons, although subtly.  It illustrates that everyone needs a second chance, and how life can be severely unfair but obstacles can be overcome, and how trust and believe can alter even the most dramatic of events.

Malcolm, at first, appeared to be a level-headed and calm doctor who was only concerned about the well-being of his patient. As far as it goes, it really seemed like a traditional professional-client relationship. It was not till mid of the show did I realise that it was actually a two-way street; as much as Cole needed him, he needed Cole to "set things right" and make amends for himself. I believe Malcolm, to a certain extent, transferred his guilt about Vincent into reaching out to Cole at full force. It made me filter out the entire gravity of their client-professional relationship and wonder who did Malcolm really do it for at the end of the day; was it out of sheer concern for a boy in desperate need, or was it for him who felt indebted and wanted to redeem himself.

On a lighter note, it was rather strange how all the other ghosts Cole encountered were either reliving their deaths (vomiting, slitting wrists),  as well as walking around exactly how they died (gapping hole at the back of the 70s kid's head, the hanging ghosts in the school ), and behaved how stereotypical ghosts would (disappearing and suddenly reappearing, not being able to communicate efficiently ect) when Malcolm did not possess any of those characteristics as a wandering spirit himself. Through Cole's lenses, all of them were frightening and approached him in a manner in which made him dreadfully fearful, but not Malcolm. It was also a little strange how Cole's mother never found out about this mysterious "doctor" given how he played such a huge part in "treating" her son. Hadn't Cole even mentioned him to his mother? Ghost Malcolm was even able to change his clothes, and not notice his wounded abdomen. I did not quite understand the relevance of his wife's ring when it fell, to the sudden  realization that he was indeed a spirit and that his time was up. There was somewhat a blurred reality to Malcolm's "existence'' as a ghost. But I suppose those gaps are not really something that has to be read so much into.