I Wonder, Wonder Who, Who-oo-ooh, Who (Who Wrote the Book of Life)

I wanted to like The Book of Life a lot more than I did but I could not help having quite a few reservations. For example, there is a scene in the early part of the film in which a group of schoolchildren encountered a mysterious blonde museum guide. Despite my being the type of person who was once accused by a Hispanic co-worker of waving the Mexican flag, I could not help but find some of the comments this guide made about Mexico in this scene to be a bit over the top. (For that matter, I found it a bit odd that the guide was voiced by the same actress who played Kelly Bundy, but that's a topic for another day.)

It didn't help that we're never told where that scene took place or whether those children the museum guide talked to were supposed to be American or Mexican. Plus some of the story elements (the affection the kids had for Lady Death or the apelike image of one of the Mexican hero's ancestors) seemed deliberately calculated to raise an eyebrow or two.

That said, I liked it more than I expected to and my inner Percy Jackson fan especially liked the fact that the old Mexican folklore tale that allegedly inspired this movie was in fact an old Greek myth. (What? You don't think Hispanics can be familiar with Greek mythology? Please think again.)

Of course, the Ray Bradbury reference at the end was also a nice touch.

If nothing else, it will be interesting to see how this movie compares to Coco. Especially since most of the TV ads for that movie make it seem like The Book of Life II.

Cuento de Mi Id

“The Harrowing”

It is said that there are seven gates through which one must pass on the way to the underworld and that at each gate, one must discard an article of clothing to demonstrate one's vulnerability to the Ruler of the Underworld. Whether the rules were the same for men as well as for women, Theadora did not know. Nor did she know what became of one's clothing after it was discarded. She only knew that somewhere during the course of her journey, she had evidently miscounted. Either that or the sages were wrong -- there were eight gates through which she must pass.

At the first gate, she abandoned her shoes. The path before her was still strewn with small rocks and pebbles yet she deliberately chose to bare her feet before she bared any other part of her body.

At the second gate, she stripped off her stockings.

At the third, she took off her earrings.

At the fourth, she slithered out of her skirt, and at the fifth, she discarded her blouse.

At the sixth, she unhooked her bra and walked topless into the increasing darkness.

At the seventh, she shivered in the cold as she looked up at what had to be the largest gate she had ever seen in her life. The path was made of smooth stone now but that was not what bothered her. For after she walked through this gate, she would be naked. Not just naked, but butt-nekkid, nude, bare as a baby's bottom, sky-clad, naked as a jaybird, in puris naturalibus, wearing only a smile, clad in her birthday suit, in the altogether, adorned by air, decorated by dew, dressed in nothing and wrapped in emptiness. She had nothing more to abandon.

And yet on the other side of that gate, she came upon an even larger gate.

She rubbed her hands together and felt something on one of her fingers. But of course. Her wedding ring. She mumbled a quick prayer of forgiveness to her departed husband and took off the ring. She would never see this ring again, she thought. As it hit the stone ground besides her, the gate slowly opened and before her sat the Ruler of the Underworld. A figure that few people could view without going mad and that few madmen could view without going catatonic.

In a glacial voice the figure bade her step forward.

Theadora did so, shivering in the dark cold.

She knelt before the figure as the elders had taught her and murmured her prayer.

Then she waited.

After a wait in which every second seemed to take a century to pass, the Ruler spoke.

“What... do... you... want?”

“I want...”

Suddenly her throat went dry. What did she want? Part of her wanted to run away -- to scream and run back through the eight gates before it was too late. But that was too easy. It also seemed too much like the type of thing that the thing on the throne would want her to do.

She looked upon the unspeakable once again. Dared to look it in the eye. The thing was older than old, so wrinkled that Theadora could hardly tell if it were a man or a woman. It wore a wrinkled robe that threatened to fall apart any second and reveal the creature's nakedness. Its hair was just short enough to disguise its gender -- too long for a man, too short for a woman. Theadora got the feeling that the Ruler had been old when the Creator Herself had been young. She then got the feeling that the Ruler might even have once ruled the Upper World in a far older past, before its world was replaced by the present one and its powers confined to the world of the dead.

“I want my mother,” she said.

The Ruler smiled. It was an evil smile, one that hinted at infinite malice, but it was a smile.

Then the Ruler laughed. For centuries it seemed to laugh and then it would pause for a moment and start right up again.

Then it stopped.

“Are...you...sure?” it asked.

“I am,” said Theadora.

“Very...well,” said the figure on the throne. “Come... to... me.”

Theadora walked forward. The figure stood up, dropped its robe, and glanced down at Theadora, no doubt expecting an expression of shock or alarm.

Theadora refused to let the tiniest expression cross her face. Not even when the creature embraced her. Not even when it kissed her. Not even when it thrust its tongue between her teeth and its hands between her legs and pressed her upon the hard ground.

The ruler's embrace was cold. Very cold.

And then...

“Arise...” It said.

It sat back upon its throne and wiped itself with the remnant of its clothing. “Go... back... through... the... gates...

“By... each... gate... there... will... be... a... piece... of... cloth-... ing...

“Put... it... on....

“Do... not... look... back...

“If... you... ev-... er... re-... turn... here... a-... gain... you... had... bet-... ter... be... plan-... ning... to... stay...”

The ruler seemed to be smiling, but Theadora could not tell.

She turned, dabbed at the liquid between her legs, and walked up to the last gate.

There on the ground lay a ring.

She bent down to pick it up, not caring what sort of view she gave to the figure who sat behind her. As she put on the ring and walked through the gate, the mighty gate closed behind her.

Keep walking, she thought. Keep walking.

At the next gate, there was a scarf.

At the one after that, a pair of earrings.

Wait a second, she thought. I don't like this trend.

At the fourth gate, there was a pair of shoes.

Wait a minute, Theadora thought. It is almost as if it wanted me to stay naked.

At the fifth gate, there was a bracelet.

At the sixth, a pearl necklace.

At the seventh, a bra.

And at the eighth...

At last, she thought. A dress.

She ran forward into the sunlight.

Reached behind the gate to pick up the dress.

The gate closed.

Leaving her in sunlight...

And in the middle of a busy intersection.

“Wait a minute,” she thought. “I didn't enter through here. The Lord of the Underworld tricked me.”

As the eyes of a hundred passersby stared at her, she tried to put on her dress.

But as soon as she put it on, she heard...

“For heaven's sake, Theadora. How dare you act like that in public!”

She turned toward the voice.

Saw a pale figure standing in the middle of the intersection.

Then the gate re-opened and a mighty wind blew the figure away into the darkness beyond.

“Wait!” Theadora shouted.

The gate closed.

Nothing remained to mark its existence but her memory.

She was still pounding on the pavement where it had existed when the men in the white coats arrived.

Quote of the Week

Live people constitute a forgotten minority, while the mythical ones are remembered only too well.
--Leonard Pitt, The Decline of the Californios: A Social History of the Spanish-Speaking Californians, 1846-1890

Spanish Fantasy Terms

1. apocalipsis --apocalypse.
2. ángel caído -- fallen angel.
3. Babieca -- El Cid's horse.
4. basilisco -- basilisk.
5. bruja -- witch.
6. brujo -- warlock.
7. caballo alado -- winged horse.
8. cacería salvaje -- wild hunt.
9. cambiante -- shape-shifter.
10. chupacabras -- literally, "goat sucker"; Mexican being that preys on goats.
11. cocatriz -- cockatrice.
12. crisol -- crucible.
13. cuento de hada -- fairy tale.
14. damisela venenosa -- poison damsel.
15. descenso al inframundo -- descent into the underworld.
16. Dios Astado -- Horned God.
17. diosa -- goddess.
18. Diosa Madre -- Mother Goddess.
19. doncella cisne -- swan maiden.
20. dragón -- dragon.
21. dragones -- dragons.
22. duende -- sprite; goblin.
23. elementales -- elementals.
24. elfo -- elf.
25. enano -- dwarf.
26. esfinge -- sphinx.
27. fantasma -- ghost; phantom.
28. fauno -- faun.
29. gárgola -- gargoyle.
30. genio -- genie; jinn; genius.
31. genio malvado -- evil genius.
32. gigante -- giant.
33. gnomo -- gnome.
34. Gran Madre -- Great Mother; Magna Mater.
35. grimorio -- grimoire; book of black magic.
36. gul -- ghoul.
37. gules -- ghouls.
38. hada -- fairy.
39. hada buena -- good fairy.
40. hada madrina -- fairy godmother.
41. hado -- fate.
42. hombre lobo -- werewolf.
43. hombre salvaje -- wild man.
44. inframundo -- underworld.
45. Jimena -- El Cid's wife.
46. judío errante -- Wandering Jew.
47. la otra vida -- the hereafter.
48. la reina del aire y las tinieblas -- the queen of air and darkness.
49. leyenda -- legend.
50. leyenda urbana -- urban legend.
51. Llorona -- literally, "crying woman"; female spirit that mourns for dead child.
52. matadragones -- dragonslayer.
53. mito urbano -- Mexican Spanish term for "urban legend".
54. mitos -- myths.
55. momia -- mummy.
56. monstruo -- monster.
57. monstruo del lago Ness -- Loch Ness Monster.
58. monstruo marino -- sea monster.
59. monstruoso -- monstruous.
60. necrófago -- necrophage.
61. niño cambiado -- changeling.
62. ogro -- ogre.
63. pesadilla -- nightmare.
64. salamandra -- salamander.
65. selva oscura -- dark wood; dark jungle.
66. señor oscuro -- dark lord.
67. ser de los bosques -- being of the forests.
68. sibila -- sibyl.
69. silvano -- mythical woodland spirit.
70. sirena -- siren; mermaid.
71. sobrenatural -- supernatural.
72. súcubo -- succubus.
73. toro alado -- winged bull.
74. trol -- troll.
75. troles -- trolls.
76. unicornio -- unicorn.
77. uróboros -- ouroboros.
78. vampiro -- vampire.
79. vestido al cielo -- skyclad.
80. zombi -- zombie.
81. íncubo -- incubus.

Movie Quote of the Week

Christmas is more about warding off evil spirits than Halloween. What Christmas shit in this room resembles anything Christian, huh? It's all neo-pagan magic. Christmas tree, a magical rite ensuring the return of the crops. The mistletoe is nothing but a conception charm. Fifth century Christians jacked a Roman Winter Festival -- twelve days in December when the nights were long and the Earth was ruled by the demons of chaos.
--Crystal Lowe, Black Christmas (2006)

All the Christmas Movies That I Have Seen

1. Arthur Christmas (2011).

Before I saw this movie, I was beginning to think they stopped making good Christmas movies. I mean, sure, Nothing Like the Holidays was not a bad effort, but it was hardly a classic. And most other Christmas films I've seen within the last decade -- with one obvious exception -- did not even try to approach the same level as NLtH.

Then came this flick and my faith was restored. Granted, when you have the reliable vocal talents of Jim Broadbent and Hugh Laurie, it is kinda hard to make a bad Christmas movie. But writers Sarah Smith and Peter Baynham give it their best shot anyway. And although only time will tell if this film is as fondly remembered in 2052 as It's a Wonderful Life and the original Miracle on 34th Street are today, I would like to think that the odds are in this film's favor. If nothing else, Arthur Christmas' humorous but good-hearted quest to do the right thing on Christmas Eve is a pleasant alternative to the usual "dysfunctional-and-proud-of-it" Christmas movie that has so recently become the rage.

2. Rise of the Guardians (2012).

This year's Arthur Christmas. Granted, it is a bit darker than AC and less traditional than your average holiday movie. But in its own way, it works.

When I first saw the trailer for this movie, I feared that Alec Baldwin's very untraditional take on Santa Claus -- among other things, his version speaks with a Russian accent, carries two swords and proudly displays two arm tattoos that say "Naughty" and "Nice" -- would end up ruining the movie. But I was wrong to think so.

Not only was Mr. Baldwin's Slavic Santa surprisingly charming, but so were Hugh Jackman's Australian Easter bunny, Chris Pine's Impish-American Jack Frost and the oh so silent (and definitely not Neil Gaimanish) Sandman. For that matter, I also liked Isla Fisher's Tooth Fairy character though it was a bit surprising for me to see Ms. Fisher in a role that was so Earth Motherly after seeing her play so many ingenues on the silver screen.

If there is one flaw in the movie, it is the way that it veers away from any of the traditional religious elements associated with Christmas. But then the same thing could be said of many classic Christmas movies including Arthur Christmas. And quite frankly, I would prefer that Hollywood stay away from such religious works as The Little Drummer Boy and The Night the Animals Talked lest they receive the same dismal treatment that Dr Seuss's How the Grinch Stole Christmas received from director Ron Howard. After all, there are worse things a good Christian could watch than a shamelessly pagan Santa Claus.

Movie Quote of the Week

My nose itches for the smell of peat and my eyes water for the sight of a blackthorn in bloom.
--Cecil Kellaway, The Luck of the Irish (1948)

Movie Quote of the Week

Think about it, Cooper. Up until today you believed there was a line between myth and reality. Maybe a very fine line sometimes but at least it was a line. Those things out there are real. If they’re real, what else is real? You know what lives in the shadows now. You may never get another night’s sleep as long as you live.
--Emma Cleasby, Dog Soldiers (2002)

Pensamientos Acerca de Televisión

Doctor Who (The Second Series): “The Pandorica Opens”

Oh my! Things do not look good for our heroes.

Amy Pond has just had an unfortunate reunion with Rory -- or at least someone whom she thinks is Rory; River Song has discovered something horrendous on board the Tardis; the Doctor apparently has every one of his enemies lining up against him. And I thought former producer Russell T. Davies had a thing for big finales!

Should I be alarmed that one of my female acquaintances regularly addresses me by the same term of endearment that River Song likes to use? And that as a result, “hello, sweetie” has officially become one of my favorite terms of endearment? Of course, if it was not a favorite before this episode, it definitely should be one now. Now if they could only get a character to say, “Hola, Sweetie”...

Anyway, it seems obvious that we are not going to get the answers to any of these questions before next week. Heck, we may not even get the answers then. We may not get the answers until next year. Or perhaps we may never get the answers!

Oh my, indeed.

I did like that they referenced one of my favorite Greek myths. And referenced one of my favorite periods of histo -- Wait a minute! Maybe they are getting this whole storyline from my imagination!

Yeah, right.

Pensamientos Acerca de Televisión

Heroes: “Eris Quod Sum”

Should I consider it evil of me that the first thought that came to mine when I saw this episode's title was the old Xena character Discord -- whose name in Greek is, of course, Eris?

And what the hell happened to Janice, the original spouse of everyone's favorite telepathic ex-cop, Matt Parkman? Is she not going to appear on the show anymore or did the producers decide that blonde supersprinter Daphne is more photogenic?

And speaking of Parkman, anyone else get the feeling that “Didn't I throw you out a window” is going to become a running gag for this show? Apparently it's now The Defenestration Show. Tune in next week to see who else gets thrown out a window...

And anyone else wonder if the producers have a same-sex subplot in mind for Claire the ex-cheerleader and Elle the electric girl? Of course, it could just be wishful thinking on my part but stranger things have happened. However, I doubt they're going to go in that direction.

However, it does seem like someone on the production staff has a thing for blondes almost as serious as Nathan Petrelli's. And incidentally, his wife appears to be seriously AWOL as well. (Maybe she's sharing a timeshare with Janice Parkman.)

And given that Matt Parkman has already proven capable of involuntarily reading someone's thoughts (look what happened with his wife in the show's first season), the decision to have Daphne pretend to go along with Matt at Arthur Petrelli's request seems really, really stupid.

Anyway, the most shocking thing I found about this episode was the Viagra ads that were being shown during the show on the NBC site. Apparently they're trying to vanquish whatever family audience that still remains after first season's stripper mom subplot. Good thing we live in such a Puritanical society...

La Vida Es Mentira y las Mentiras, Mentiras Son

My father once told me that Eugene O'Neill's 1939 play The Iceman Cometh was the one thing I should read if I really wanted to know more about people. And indeed, the play taught me more about the way people really are than a dozen Hollywood movies.

Granted, it wasn’t a nice lesson. We all like to think that we are a lot better than we are. That we don’t delude ourselves with lies and illusions. That we don’t continually put off attempts to improve ourselves. And yet we also know that deep down there are worse things we can do than trap ourselves within our self-made myths.

For often our attempts to make others face the truth prove to be just one more way of hiding from the unpleasant truths of our own existence. Or so O’Neill would have us believe.

Mitos de Amor (Myths of Love)

1. If I love him enough, he will quit drinking.

2. If I love him enough, he will quit using drugs.

3. If I love him enough, he will love me back.

4. If I love him enough, he won't beat me anymore. Or kill me.