Movie Review of "The Triplets of Belleville"

So I watched the Triplets of Belleville, thinking it is funny and hoping it can cheer me up. However, it turned out to be a total scary movie to me, by interweaving wild imagination and reality checks together. Ironically, real scary movies do not really scare me, with all those bloody scenes I cannot say that the music is not delightful, or the image is not cute, or

the grandma she devoted all herself to make her grandson happy.

the wordless grandson: he is the guy who scares me most. He doesn't smile, doesn't talk, and doesn't seem to think or just wink. Plus, he doesn't do anything besides biking. When he gets locked up by the Mafia, he isn't horrified, and when he is freed, he doesn't seem to be happy. To me, he is the most soulless thing in the movie. He is a poor kid with no parents, but he is also fortunately enough to have a miraclous grandma who does everything to train and protect him.

What it implies: the power of women and the cruelty of life.

A movie full of implied feminism. In the beginning, the three huge women get out of the car. Two squeeze their husband out like an accessory and one had hers stuck in her butt.

The reality:
(1) time lapses, grandma grows older and older and grandson becomes a middle-aged mediocre from a little boy.

(2) the grandson is not a top racer despite all the training.

(3)

I'm a 26-year-old coward.

Some music needs to be listened with a headset because it is so subtle.

I somehow couldn't help thinking life is somewhat fated. And there are so many things beyond my reach. Maybe the best I can do is just let go and accept what is coming to me? But it doesn't quite work in my yoga class. There are always some "borderline" poses that if I say to myself "I couldn't", I couldn't, and if I say "maybe", I did it sometimes. However, human subjects are more capricious than yoga poses. I don't know if I should just follow Betty's logic and be realistic. She is a lawyer and I was supposed to be one. Oh, life is so sad.

After all the things I have tried and done, I still feel myself a coward.

It is your own growing pain so I can't help.

I was stalked by a crazy stranger today back from the market. He is black, probably mentally ill and was riding a bike. He was following me all the way to RAND, keeping asking me to marry him and if I liked killers. Well, he was crazy so I thought the best response was no response and continue walking. Otherwise, I would really have shouted him and pour all my work stress on him and called the police (if only I had brought my cell phone with me alas!). I was really scared at that time. Though it was only verbal harrassment, it also brought back many other unpleasant memories. But I was fortunate that it was only verbal, I didn't really want to fight in my nice linen. Two hours later I finished one pound of cherries, and thinking, maybe large quantities of sweet fresh cherris could help calm disturbed nerves?

Who should I believe? Time cures, and time kills.

The hard way is the best way -- life learning process.

You did something bad to me and justified it by saying "you asked for it". Ok, even if it were true that I had explicitly asked for it, why wouldn't you also have given the good things I asked for?

We were just too young and too impatient and too pre-determined back then. We didn't know that things we thought that were totally hopeless could be cured by time. We made mistakes, big ones. When we grew older and looked back we'd gasp at the irreversibility of life.
Every decision we made is a one-way ticket. Sometimes we have to go farther into it before we realize we took the wrong train.

No effort is ever wasted, as long as you don't focus on the original calibration.

I biked up north towards where the wind blew this afternoon on Santa Monica beach. The humid ocean breeze reminded me of home. When I biked back, the wind was no longer against me but rather with me. Maybe it all depended on me after all.