The Bran Report

It's good for parts of you that you'd probably rather not think about.

Sunday, July 22, 2007


Up until now, when people asked me what I thought it was like to be a woman my answer would be something like:
"I don't know, I guess pretty much like being a man only without the constant desire to fornicate and destroy."
Now, though, I have a new anser. I now say
"Hey, did you see that spanish film that came out last year? With Penelope Cruz? Yeah, that's how I think it is."

This may be the most oestragen-soaked film I have ever seen. You are made aware of people's relationships constantly, and the characters in this film apparently feel that events such as murder or spectral visitations shouldn't get in the way of a lengthy discussion about feelings- or indeed, about glucose and cholesterol. I feel almost certain that by now someone has produced an edited version where a little counter tracks the number of cheek-kisses and hugs. Rest assured, they are going to need a lot of digits on that thing.

Admittedly, I have only watched half of the film so far. Having made this statement, it is almost certain that the remainder of the film is a gun battle during a car chase to stop terrorists blowing up the Miss America pageant.

Still, I can get a little bit Textual Evidence. I don't want to ruin it for you though, because this is actually an awesome film that I want you to go and see.

So, you know, SPOILERS.

Neville Longbottom is Kaiser Soyze LOL.
So far there are six female leads and a variety of supporting female characters. I have seen two named male characters:
Emillio has one scene, which boils down to "Hey, I'm leaving for Barcelona. Look after these keys to a plot point for me, will you?". (Note: this scene also refers tangentially to rape and menstruation.)
Paco is the big male lead, as Raimunda's husband. He has three scenes.
Scene one: Drinking beer, watching televised sports, fails to provide for family.
Scene two: Selfish in bed. Jacking off.
Scene three: Shivved and wrapped in a carpet.
It's a tough time looking for sympathetic male characters i nthis show is what I'm sayin'.

On a final note, when one of the Loughboroughites talks about this film I swear she calls it Vulva. This distresses me for two reasons. 1) If I'm just mis-hearing, that gives Freud and Sapir-Whorf and the rest of those artsy-fartsy ne'erdowells too much credit. 2) If she's really malapropping, is it a sharp (and consummately delivered) pun? This reopens the whole No one is really that clueless, it's an act, debate.


At 11:40 pm, July 23, 2007, Blogger Peter said...

Right now I'm trapped in the San Fransisco airport. As is my usual habit with lengthy travel, after arriving from Shanghai, United Airlines - without so much as an announcement - indefinitely removed my flight to Boston. Now I get to make multiple connections so that (HOORAY) I can get home after a mere 48 hours of hellish airport hopping.

I mention this because to pass the time I'm reading all of the blog posts that I missed over the last few months, given your ban in China. I must say: the posts sound like a savage blend of depressing and wrathful. Are good Englishmen ALLOWED to have such emotions? If you're considering murder, fine. But if you're considering suicide, come visit America. Maybe you'll have better luck with it than me.

At 9:13 am, July 24, 2007, Blogger Nathan said...

You are correct to ascertain that such emotions are considered ungentlemanly, but it's not un-English unless I actually confront the source of my unhappiness. Fortunately in this case that is largely impossible because my wrath is directed at the East Midlands in general.


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