(St. Francis Xavier church, home of my first confession)
Father Guetzloe ushered five of us into his tiny little room where his gowns and sacred chalice were kept. We lined up and waited our turn, although I did not know what we were doing. Perhaps there was instruction that I missed, which was entirely possible since I spent many days in first grade just concentrating on the blinds that covered our giant classroom windows.
(short hair fused with long hairpiece, during the one year we were asked to wear our hair long)
I once had long, thick, straight and beautiful hair until I was 9, when both my grandmother and mother decided that I would survive a humid Japanese summer better with a short cut. We went to the beauty salon, where my hair was tied back and chopped off with one swift stroke of shears.
If the big banks that brought down the economy could be reduced to human form, they might have the appearance of the six woman who compose the “Bitches Coven”. With large candles blazing with in the center of an old table, the women plot and maneuver the fate of a town subject to their entitled power and privilege.
(Ness Aquino and I at the bar in the Mabuhay Gardens. I was too young to drink.)
My father had watched “Amapola,” the weekend Filipino variety show on channel 18 hosted by Ness Aquino and Amapola, a local celebrity that wore a beautiful Fiipino dress and sang for her TV audience. The show was always simple, with Ness and Amapola sitting on high backed rattan chairs as they spoke in Taglish.
Pretty girl meets attractive boy by accident, and the two spend the night out in Rome while waiting for morning. This simple idea is so beautifully filmed and acted in “Notte Sento”, an Italian short film by Daniele Napolitano.
…this one speaks for many of us who grew up in San Francisco. Bruce Lee. Fuck Mr. Yunioshi.
In “Convivum,” a sleek and sexy short film from France directed by Michaël Nakache, secrets, lies and style crashes head-on in a small French apartment where dinner guests have invited to an evening of what might be the grandest warning ever against speed dating.
While I was a prolific letter writer during my teenage years, my choices of pen pals were not always wise. Of course, it took a while to dispense of my one prison pen pal, but I finally managed to confine my correspondence to one nice German girl who sent me wonderful photos of her home in Bavaria and from vacations to Spain.
A note on films reviewed here
Published by Anna Pirhana on April 14, 2014When I offer film reviews through this blog, bear in mind that I do it for short films that I find appealing. In presenting these reviews to the reader, I do it with the intention of inspiring the individual to watch the movie. I am not offering film commentary.