monoceros blogs1. Started my first weblog.
2. Braved the spotlight as a bride.
3. Left my first full-time job.
4. Lived for a month and a bit with the man of my dreams.
5. Was awarded a fellowship.
6. Drove long-distance on my own.
7. Set up my own furniture.
8. Got my first parking ticket (but escaped paying).
9. Watched the most epic movie (at least to me) - ROTK.
10. Reached the heights of geekdom with my LOTR craze.
11. Entered the Green Card lottery.
12. Volunteered to go first for the fiction workshop of 2004 (but may not succeed with a very good story).
13. Got an Amazon.com credit card.
14. Gave a car the complete works all by myself - wash, rinse, wax.
15. Got almost drunk (no hangover, thank goodness).
16. Visited the Met Museum.
17. Attended a raunchy bachelorette party.
18. Made a permanent exit from the dating world.
19. Got a prawn as a pet.
20. Had small group dinner with famous author (who cooked the dinner too!).
A rather rambly not-very-in-order list. There's more, I'm sure. As 2003 turns into 2004, I realize how much I am grateful for, so much has happened in this amazing year. I got married, I got accepted into the program I always wanted to enter, I returned to Ann Arbor, I watched the final part of the LOTR trilogy, I made new friends (online - that's you, Monkey! - and offline), I renewed old friendships, a good friend got attached to my brother's good friend (they met at my wedding!), it goes on and on!
As I write this, my poor husband is leaving his office (he didn't get a half day off), going into the new year crowd to buy me a new year present before coming to my parents' house where we will spend the night with my brother and friends (including the new couple mentioned above!). Perhaps we'll go down to the beach where the ships will be ablaze with festive lights and will shoot flares when we reach the first hour of the new year. I'm so happy to be spending it with those I love. Last night, I was moaning to Lin Kiat about a girl my age who has the unfair combination of being thin and possessing an unfaked cleavage. We were reading her weblog together and admiring the pictures of her and her husband and their beautiful baby. Lin Kiat grinned and said, "She has a loving husband and so do you. What are you complaining about?" He's very right, of course.
I have very little to complain about this year, and I hope next year will be just as special. Happy new year to all my friends, my readers, the lurkers (who I hope will say hallo one day) and all who share this world! Peace out.
I woke up early today and went to the beach with my mom. I could have stood for hours with my feet in the sea and the sun on my face while the waves broke on the sand. I haven't had that experience for a long time.
Now it's working, or rather slaving away at my story which is due January 6th, the day I return to Michigan. I'm listening to Evanescence, the group that got a boost from the soundtrack of Daredevil. Goth-like music and a female lead singer with tons of emotion (she's only 20) in her pipes.
Legolas and Gimli on Arod are in front of me, a Christmas present from my brother. I'd put up a picture but I forgot to take my cable with me so I can't download any of the photos I've taken on this trip. How I wish I could let fly a series of words as easily as Legolas lets loose his arrows (I'm still bowled over by his three-arrow shot that brings down the Mumakhil in ROTK).
It's good to be home. I almost wish I didn't have to keep moving around and travelling to and fro; that Lin Kiat and I could have one place for ourselves, in one country where we'd wake up on weekends to walk by the sea, have a hearty breakfast, then go into town where I'd head for the bookstore or CD shop, and then we'd catch a movie or rent DVDs to watch at home, and have some friends over to dinner (I think I would enjoy cooking and hosting small parties if we had our own kitchen and I'd have time to experiment with all sorts of cookbooks - I'd love a bookshelf in the kitchen), then maybe we'd all sit out on the lawn (if we have a lawn) to catch the night breezes, finally a cleanup of the house, and then to our lovely Serta bed, which I hope will follow us wherever we are.
All right, less dreaming, more working. I have to finish this story to get a right start in the semester ahead. There're only three semesters left! What comes after? A one-year teaching fellowship? Home to Singapore? Home to elsewhere?
Bilbo Baggins said it better (I love this poem so much I have to quote it twice in the same month!):
The Road goes ever on and on,
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.
I seem to have splendid timing as far as events in Singapore (that I want to attend) are concerned. I missed the Michael Buble concert as well as a David Tao performance this year and it looks like I'll miss the LOTR Te Papa exhibition too.
Weapons, armor, costumes, accessories, prosthetics and other nifty productions will be on display at the Singapore Science Centre from March 13th to June 4th next year. Singapore is the only Asian country on the exhibition schedule. Tickets are on sale already, and I wish I could be buying a couple for myself.
Because school doesn't end till late April and Lin Kiat and I may be travelling in the month of May, we may not return in time for me to visit the exhibition. I may very well have to send LK on an errand to Jurong to pick up books, photos and souvenirs to satisfy my exhibition cravings.
Go here to learn more.
- Seeing loved ones at the airport
- Jetlagging
- Gazing at Lin Kiat's (and mine!) little brood of two fish and a prawn
- Christmas shopping (for others)
- CD shopping (for me)
- Meeting old colleagues (scanning books and walking to the Chinatown market for old times' sake)
- Saying goodbye to my old boss who's now leaving the company
- Admiring Barney's purple eye from his encounter with cowardly money changer
- Meeting Barney and Eri for dinner before they fly to Thailand (lots of gossip and pictures and laughs)
- Opening Christmas presents
- Having a surprise guest for Christmas dinner
- Watching Love Actually with Lin Kiat on Christmas Day
Elaborations (and pictures) soon!
Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you,
The love of all man's days both past and forever:
Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life,
The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours -
And the songs of every poet past and forever.
~ Rabindranath Tagore
My mother came to me
Gathered me in her arms
And took me to the window
Look she said
There's the morning star
I soon gave over crying
For there it was alone
In the dawn sky
Bright and very beautiful
As beautiful as my mother.
~ Anne Porter
No words, no words. In the movie Contact, Dr. Eleanor Arroway had no words when she witnessed the stars and planets and nebulae in the galaxy as she travelled to meet the intelligent beings who had summoned one of humankind to their planet.
I have no words after watching Return Of The King. But I'll attempt to write some anyway, just in case anyone is reading.
As a reader (many times over) of the books, I winced a little at the incomplete story arcs and the lack of development in certain characters. But I winced only a little. I was sitting up - ready to tip off the edge of my seat - for most of the movie. I knew what was going to happen, but my hands were clammy and my heart ready to burst just waiting for what would happen next. The movie swept me along in its gale, and I relished the ride.
Action, human drama, and good-looking Elves, oh, they're all in this final part of the trilogy. What action! I've never seen or been in awe of such epic battle scenes before. The sets (Minas Tirith - simply breath-taking) and the numbers (warriors, horses, orcs) are extraordinary. You don't think CGI or special effects, you think...oh my...! Everything is so real you can almost breathe in the smoke, the blood, the dust of broken stone and bone.
There are so many moments to give you pause. I can barely find the words (I may never) to describe how I felt. Eowyn, you really believe her, her fear, her courage; how human, how fragile and steely a human she is. (I think I need to get her action figure now!) Gandalf - you thought Yoda was a fighter in AOTC? Check out this wise old master, how he swings that bright, white staff! Faramir, oh Faramir, he has Boromir's might in arms, and a sensitive, beautiful soul that shines as he rides across Pelennor Fields. Theoden, King of Rohan, does his job as a true king, the king we didn't see in The Two Towers. Eomer, so full of life on screen, although he isn't developed as much as I'd have liked. Legolas and Gimli, how they've become true friends at last. Watch Legolas, he's lovely as ever, an acrobat, steadfast and quick as light; he cuts a very nice figure on the battelfield, and he has his best moment as a fighter in this movie. Merry and Pippin come into their own as well; on the battlefield, no less. Aragorn, the king returned; he needs no other elaboration. And Frodo and Sam, and even Gollum, they come to such an end! What an end.
An end of all things. Vanishing into the West. If you thought the song Annie Lennox sings had no effect on you on first listen (without having seen the movie), you might very well find your heart heaving as her voice comes on and the credits roll, but not before sketches of all the characters appear on screen. How these characters have woven their way into our lives. My life, at least. They did so when I first read the books as a sixteen year-old. I near wept when I said good-bye and put the book down after finishing the appendix. I knew I could pick up the tale again, but I knew the end already. I knew too that everything has a final line, and all adventures must have endings. A true bittersweet finish, in all senses of the word. Farewell to our most beloved characters, for even they too, must go home, wherever that may be. In Middle-Earth, it is the end of an Age. In our world, it is the end of a tale, one of the greatest.
The End Of The Third Age by Ted Nasmith
Monday night: had dinner with director of program and his wife, a classmate and his wife, and my instructor from my creative non-fiction class. The class whose essays I still needed to complete. The deadline was midnight that night, and I sheepishly told my instructor, also my long-time mentor, that I hadn't placed my portfolio in her mailbox yet. She told me not to talk about it and enjoy the chilli crabs that the director, whose mother is Malaysian-Chinese, prepared from a Singapore cookbook. We talked of everything from supermarkets to the MFA program to politics to hawker centers in Singapore to marriage (my classmate having recently married his wife less than a year after knowing her and me having recently abandoned my husband to move to Michigan).
Later that Monday night: proceeded to Angell Hall to finish the essays. Visibly struggled at the computer, pulling my hair, sipping water, slouching in the chair, looking at other desperate-looking people.
Late, late that Monday night (and Tuesday morning): finished the essays, but wasn't pleased with them. But took them to my instructor's box anyway. Drove home. Called husband. Collapsed on bed.
Tuesday afternoon: off to school to pick up new gradership contract and some mail. Returned to car to find a ticket. I'd forgotten to put up my parking permit. Ah! Rushed to Parking Violations downtown to ask for forgiveness. The University lets us get away once a year, so I saved myself a $20 fine. Drove to Best Buy to spend my $10 voucher. No Gameboy Advance Sims Bustin' Out game so I bought a soundtrack of the new movie by Robert Altman (Gosford Park). The Company has received 13 "Fresh" readings on Rotten Tomatoes. It's about a ballet company and a dancer (played by Neve Campbell), filmed with the full cooperation of the Goffrey Ballet of Chicago. More later. Next up, Meijers, where I bought a cool snow scraper and brush at 30% off. The night before, I was using a hard plastic cover to get rid of the ice from my windscreen. Also picked up some sweets for my Mom. Roamed the toy section; ah, to be a kid during Christmas.
Tuesday night: watched The Two Towers (again) with friends and a dog, who's also a friend, if constantly licking my sock-covered toes is a sign of friendship. Got home dreaming of Return Of The King and of Going Home To Husband This Saturday, the two great highlights of this December.
In haste to the White City by Ted Nasmith
Even as Pippin gazed in wonder the walls passed from looming grey to white, blushing faintly in the dawn; and suddenly the sun climbed over the eastern shadow and sent forth a shaft that smote the face of the City. Then Pippin cried aloud, for the Tower of Ecthelion, standing high within the topmost wall, shone out against the sky glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver, tall and fair and shapely, and its pinnacle glittered as if it were wrought of crystals; and white banners broke and fluttered from the battlements in the morning breeze, and high and far he heard a clear rining as of silver trumpets.
~ J.R.R. Tolkien, from Minas Tirith
0 days left
The wrath of the Ents by Ted Nasmith
As tall as trolls they were, twelve feet or more in height; their strong bodies, stout as young trees, seemed to be clad with raiment or with hide of close-fitting grey and brown. Their limbs were long, and their hands had many fingers; their haif was stiff, and their beards grey-green as moss. They gazed out with solemn eyes, but they were not looking at the riders: their eyes were bent northwards.
~ J.R.R. Tolkien, from Flotsam And Jetsam
1 more day
The Argonath by Ted Nasmith
As Frodo was borne towards them the great pillars rose like towers to meet him. Giants they seemed to him, vast grey figures silent but threatening. Then he saw that they were indeed shaped and fashioned: the craft and power of old had wrought upon them, and still they preserved through the suns and rains of forgotten years the mighty likenesses in which they had been hewn. Upon great pedestals founded in the deep waters stood two great kings of stone: still with blurred eyes and crannied brows they frowned upon the North. The left had of each was raised palm outwards in gesture of warning; in each right hand there was an axe; upon each head there was a crumbling helm and crown. Great power and majesty they still wore, the silent wardens of a long-vanished kingdom.
~ J.R.R. Tolkien, from The Great River
2 more days
Password into Moria by Ted Nasmith
Many times he repeated these words in different order, or varied them. Then he tried other spells, one after another, speaking now faster and louder, now soft and slow. Then he spoke many single words of Elvish speech. Nothing happened. The cliff towered into the night, the countless stars were kindled, the wind blew cold, and the doors stood fast.
~ J.R.R. Tolkien, from A Journey In The Dark
The teaser trailer is out today. Go here to take a look. A rather small screen though.
Update on my essays: I have a mild suspicion I'll make it through today and hand in my work on time.
3 more days
View of Rivendell by Ted Nasmith
All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken:
The crownless again shall be king.
~Written by Bilbo Baggins for Aragorn, recited at Rivendell
Go here to see more of Ted Nasmith's work.
The party's over for the night, at least for me. My soon-to-be-wed friend, Jenny, and her friends headed in a van to go clubbing while I bowed out to return to my essays.
I promised wicked pictures, and I did take some very good ones. But they're a little too wild and the fellows were nice friends of a friend of Jenny's (although Jenny herself thinks they're hired pros) and I don't think those pictures should be posted here. But I'll say the party was good fun, very hilarious, and the guys were real sports, making sure the bride-to-be had a very raunchy half an hour of music, grooving, and what not. I played camera girl and used the cameras (Jenny's and mine) as defense tools against the fellows, who made their rounds with all the other girls. I'm embarrassed to say I didn't escape, and at one point I even got lifted off the ground! I think my girlfriends, Van Tan, Joan, May and Desiree would have wanted to see that. They'd laugh till no end. Jenny tried to get a picture, but all she captured was the guy's leg.
The fellows certainly earned their tips, the dollar bills we tucked into the wee strings of their fancy underwear. It was a smashing evening, although I don't think I'd want to attend too many of these. After I made sure Jenny was fine and not too traumatized by all the action and attention, I told her, "There's a reason why you only get to have this kind of party once." She did good, and was a great sport herself tonight!
Still smiling midway in the evening (notice her fancy necklace?)
4 more days
The progress on my essays has eased my conscience enough to let me begin posting countdown entries to Wednesday's ROTK.
Inspired by the super trailer on the special edition of the ROTK soundtrack, which features shots from FOTR and TTT that lead into the trailer of ROTK, I thought of choosing some paintings by Ted Nasmith, a popular painter of Tolkien's work, to mark the journey from its beginning till the end.
Leaving the Shire by Ted Nasmith
The Road goes ever on and on,
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.
~by Bilbo Baggins~
Go here to see more of Ted Nasmith's work.
Ann Arbor is getting cold. A little snow today and plenty of chills. I vowed to stay indoors to revise my essays. I'm bad at revision, and rather afraid of it. I've read all the comments from my classmates and professor, and have sketched a sketchy revision plan, but it's hard to buckle down and write. Half the terror comes from worrying about not producing anything good. The other half comes from time slipping away, reducing my chances of producing anything - good or bad - on the screen.
Writing good essays can be, for lack of a better description, very much like constipation. Why can't there be laxatives for writing?
Tomorrow evening, I have to attend a bachelorette party (strippers hired!) for a girlfriend. I best get my work done, and charge the batteries for my camera. Some wicked pictures soon!
While we're caught up in the euphoria of the approaching King (that's Aragorn to those of you who have been hiding in a cave for the past year), there is the other fantasy series of a young wizard-to-be. Mustn't forget about Harry Potter, now.
The third movie revolves round the mystery of Sirius Black, recently escaped from the Azkaban prison. Gary Oldman plays the said wizard. Ah Gary, one of my favorite actors who doesn't fit into the hero/protagonist mold so easily. Perfect to play the odd one, Sirius Black.
Harry flies into theaters June 2004.
Go here for the teaser.
My gaming section is all but dead. Can't have that. I'm still under a self-imposed ban on all games that require long-term commitment. Such games include Final Fantasy X (yes, I still haven't finished that, and screen shots of FFXII are already out on the web), FFX-2, Return Of The King, Lara Croft: Angel Of Darkness, Zoo Tycoon, etc. However, there's no rule saying I can't look at what's out on the market from time to time.
The Sims 2 is headed our way! Three years ago, I got extremely addicted to The Sims when it was first launched. Between Lin Kiat, LK's roommate, who is our dear cousin-in-law, Yunn-Shing, and me, we shared my copy of The Sims. Every few hours or so, we'd have to demand the CD-rom from the player who'd been hogging it thus far. I remember creating the Yap household where two characters Lin Kiat and Vanessa lived. They didn't fall in love because Vanessa turned out to be gay and adopted a baby with her mohawk-sporting lover, and Lin Kiat brought another girl home to marry. Thankfully for LK and me, real life turned out quite differently.
I've lost count of the number of expansion packs that Maxis has since released and didn't bother to play The Sims Online. In fact, I'm not even sure where my old game is. But no matter, now that the new generation is coming, and all the previous expansion packs won't be compatible, I'm ready to renew my affair with The Sims in its new version. If it turns out to be wonderful, I might even pick up The Sims 2 expansion packs slated for future release.
The Sims 2 looks graphically better, has more details, gives you a freer hand to manipulate your Sims, and the best part of all, lets you see your characters from infancy through the teenage years, then adulthood and old age! Your kids will inherit your personality, or parts of it, your own character will be shaped by the memories you collect, your wife will nag more as her hair turns grey.
Grandpa and little Sim
While we wait for The Sims 2, there's The Sims Bustin' Out: Lookin' Sharp. It'll even be available for Gameboy Advance, which will certainly be on my wishlist. Imagine taking your Sims everywhere you go! My Gameboy Advance is sadly sitting beneath my LCD as part of the black decor of my desk.
Go here to the official site of The Sims 2. Check out the trailer (the one with the family gathered by the sofa) on the videos page. Very hilarious and it shows you all about generations - the life and times of a Sim!
Even Sims enjoy video games.
Confession: I had a secret desire to watch Josh Groban in concert next February 14th, when he swings by Detroit to perform at the Fox Theater.
I had the opportunity to buy tickets pre-sale, I had a good idea of how happy I'd be to watch him (when LK can't be around for Valentine's Day, the next best thing is watching a boy-toy crooner in concert), but I had no one to go with me. For all who have never been to Detroit but have heard about the shady alleys, the steam pouring out of potholes at night, the empty streets, the shifting darkness that threatens to swallow you, the lone silhouettes that lurk around corners - they're all true. I didn't want to go to Detroit alone, and because none of my friends here are remotely interested in Josh Groban, I had to abandon my great plan. Now all the concerts around the country are sold out! (Including the one in shady Detroit.) Mr. Groban sure pulls in the crowds. I'll have to be content with his recently-released CD (I have the Internet-only special edition with four extra songs, geek that I am).
Some concerts that I did get to:
- As far as maestros go, Itzhak Perlman commands our attention with both his playing and conducting. I managed to see Itzhak Perlman perform with the Detroit Symphony Orchestra three Saturdays ago. Yes, Detroit, but I had three companions, so I felt safe as a duckling. It was heart-wrenching to watch him maneuver himself from the conductor's position to off-stage and than on-stage again with each round of applause. Perlman has suffered from polio for many years, but he takes each awkward step with great strength and dignity, and when he moves his arms and fingers to either bend notes from his violin, or command music from the orchestra, he is the equal of all the great men that the history of music has known.
- John Logan Skelton is my friend Peiming's piano professor at the University of Michigan, whom I met at a recent Thanksgiving gathering. Last evening, he held a recital that featured new music he'd composed for the poems of Tennessee Williams and E.E. Cummings, poems set to song. Skelton played on a large, dark piano as a soprano and baritone carefully and always respectfully used the words as lyrics that fit beautifully with the music. Most members of the audience were music students who were delighted with the poetry, some of them having read E.E. Cummings previously, although their ears were perhaps tuned more to the lines of music than of words. An occasional piano player, I was impressed how easily poetry melded with another art form. Well, I really shouldn?t have been, since words are essential to vocal music and many song lyrics can be considered poetic. My own delight came about because I had known those words as only written lines or words said aloud at a poetry reading. That evening, they were accompanied by haunting and fitful melodies. The lines soared and wavered in a way I?d never heard them move before; they were borne on voices so smooth and beautiful that the voices became paths for the words to glide and meander with a grace, a quickness, a startling leap. While the words had always set the imagination free, music now lent these poems wings and they traveled further into the listening body to engage more than just a single sense.
Now, if only I can translate these ideas into my mini essay on combining an art form with prose that's due Tuesday. I need a muse!
Two recent releases in soundtracks are Mona Lisa Smile and Love Actually. The chick flicks and dramas always produce the soundtracks with winning songs and signature tunes. The epic movies bring some of the most riveting and rousing scores (listening to the Pirates Of The Caribbean soundtrack on my morning drive to school makes me feel like a hero - swash swash buckle buckle! - all ready to face the day) to show off the best sound systems.
I'm eagerly awaiting my copy of the Return Of The King soundtrack to blast on my sound system, but until then I'll enjoy the chick flick CDs. Mona Lisa Smile is Julia Roberts's latest outing with three up-and-coming actresses, Kirsten Dunst, Julia Stiles and Maggie Gyllenhaal. The decade is the 1950s, the location is Wellesley College (the best liberal arts college - females only - in the US; Hillary Rodham Clinton is an alumnus), Julia Roberts's character is a Mr. Holland-like (of Mr. Holland's Opus fame) teacher who inspires the girls to fulfill their potentials.
What makes the songs work is the choice of 1950s tunes covered by contemporary recording artistes like Tori Amos, Seal, Mandy Moore, Lisa Stansfield, Kelly Rowland, Macy Gray, Alison Krauss, Chris Isaak, and yes, Celine Dion, among others. Celine doesn't demonstrate any of her trademark histronic vocals though, and handles her version of "Bewitched" very tastefully. Mandy Moore uses her sweet voice to give the haunting music of "Secret Love" a wistful finish. Tori Amos gives us two songs; she does swing very well! Very fun music that fits a Julia Roberts movie. Her movies have produced some of the more successful soundtracks - My Best Friend's Wedding and Notting Hill are two.
Love Actually - ah, where do I begin? The three live versions of "Christmas Is All Around," "All I Want For Christmas Is You," and "All You Need Is Love" are on the soundtrack, and perfect for the fan who enjoyed the versions in the movie. The UK and international releases have a longer tracklist than the US one. From what I've heard, the score composed by Craig Armstrong is impressive and make three wonderful additions to the former versions.
Joni Mitchell's "Both Sides Now" is the most moving song on the soundtrack - the melody is wrenching, the lyrics are pure poetry and Mitchell's voice is beautifully controlled and so very poignant. Listening to it on its own (without having seen the movie) moves you, listening to it play in that particular scene with Emma Thompson's character will bring tears. You'll never think of anything else when you listen to that song again - the painful realization of how clouds, life and love are more than what you thought them to be; in the later years of your life, when your youth has long passed and the dreams a little broken, how do you read the signs, how do you cope with the intense knowledge that you know so little even now?
Go here to listen to samples of the Love Actually OST.
Listen to the Mona Lisa Smile OST here.
Accomlishment Of The Day
The bulb outside my bedroom blew this morning. I grimaced. I left it alone the whole day till night fell. I have no ladder and I am not tall. Only choice: I raised my study chair to as high as it would go, stood on it, and stretched my arms until they could reach no further. I fiddled around with the heavy glass casing surrounding the bulb. Since I couldn't look at it at eye level, I had no idea how the damn thing was attached to the ceiling. Finally, after much arm-stretching, muttering, and banging fists on the wall, I felt three tiny screws and decided to see what would happen if I unscrewed them. At last, I reached the core. The defunct bulb. Replaced it. And the world, or this little world (read: small area between bathroom and bedroom) of mine, was bright again.
This entry isn't very interesting. If you would like to read even more boring (but truly hilarious) work, go here to the dullest blog in the world. So boring that each entry this guy writes summons some 100 to 200 comments!
I still have a list of other entries that I ought to write, and I still have my essay to complete for tomorrow, but during the breaks I take (read: Internet-surfing) I discovered quite by accident that actor Jonathan Brandis died in early November. I was on the Internet Movie Database randomly keying in has-been actors to see if they were still working and as I read Brandis's biography, these words jumped out at me, "He died in November 2003."
He was Bastian in The Neverending Story 2: The Next Chapter, and also acted in Steven Spielberg's SeaQuest DSV, a role that made him a teen idol.
Jonathan was 27 when he died. Reports are showing that he took his own life. It was particularly strange that the media was silent for the most part until two weeks after his death when reports finally trickled out. But still, I hadn't read anything about his death (and I do read several on-line newspapers) until today, and of all places on imdb.com.
I suppose it's always tragic when a young actor dies, and if he has committed suicide. After watching a person on the screen, be it big or small, you garner that strange sensation of almost knowing that person. You know his voice, his face, the color of his eyes. Sure, you've never exchanged words face to face, but that's how celebrity status is, a crowd of people think they know the actor and draw some intangible connection to him, unbeknownst to him. This peculiar intimacy leaves you shocked at an unexpected death and shatters the basest and most naive of assumptions: any actor who's famous, or has been famous, should at least have some security in life, some happiness even. Why would they take their own lives?
I'm thinking now about Leslie Cheung, who jumped to his death earlier this year because of a failed relationship, and of Australian JAG actor Trevor Goddard who played Mic Brumby, the fellow Mac (Catherine Bell) dumped just before they were to wed. He couldn't find better work after he left JAG, and my brother told me he'd seen him on TV commercials promoting vacuum cleaners. Trevor was a former boxer and his main work included Mortal Kombat, JAG and an uncredited role in Gone In Sixty Seconds. He even played a pirate in the more recent Pirates Of The Caribbean. Reports say he had been in the midst of a divorce and that he had two young sons. He was 37 when he took an overdose of prescription drugs.
One other actor's name that I had typed into the search feature at imdb.com was Shane McDermott, the rollerblading guy of Airborne, whom I once liked immensely. I was fifteen years old after all. He's still alive and living in L.A. but doesn't sound like he's very happy. In a magazine article printed in 1995, he confessed that drugs were replacing people in his life - "I just took a load of bad drugs and used them to distort my opinion towards the people that I was actually seeing at the time. And so sex was just a hollow, vacuous thing which was made full and three-dimensional by the fact that I was taking a huge amount of drugs."
"I got sick of my image, that horrible composite monster that was created. I'd read about myself and just cringe. That was part of the reason for the haircut. I thought I'd get people to concentrate on the acting, not the hair."
"I've got everything I need in LA; 50 TV channels, the sun's outside. I hate the sun, but it's nice to know it's there. I rise at 4:30 in the afternoon, in bed by 12, watch films all night. I enjoy it, I absorb culture through my backside."
Not quite what a person would expect after having seen him as the golden California boy on the big screen.
Actors can be just as depressed and lost as us plebians, although perhaps they have a little more spending power than we do. I can't say that the world ought to stop just because another failed, once-famous, actor has passed away, but I must admit that the crumbled image of the golden, beautiful lives of the famous leads us to then think, who does have the perfect life? Who are the happy ones among us, who see the world with rose-tinted glasses and smile in spite of everything that works against them? I confess I used to be one of those; although it happened more often in the past than now, people used to tell me I kept such rose-colored glasses in my pocket. I was happy, hopeful and innocent (more likely naive). I was the Duracell Bunny. I was eager for life.
I grew up, and now I'm a tired grad student, still posessing of a sunny disposition at times, still optimistic, for the most part, about my future, still got those glasses somewhere in a deep pocket, although they're rather useless and used less these days now that I see more clearly, albeit ironically, with my over-stretched eyeballs (literally in the sense of extreme myopia. Without my contacts, I'd be legally blind, I think, which explains the irony). The world isn't an easy place, but I suppose we do our best to live in it and be happy. Some just find it harder to do so.