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This is the blog of Ian Rosales Casocot. Filipino writer. Sometime academic. Former backpacker. Twink bait. Hamster lover.
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Bibliography
The Great Little Hunter
Pinspired Philippines, 2022
The Boy The Girl
The Rat The Rabbit
and the Last Magic Days
Chapbook, 2018
Republic of Carnage:
Three Horror Stories
For the Way We Live Now
Chapbook, 2018
Bamboo Girls:
Stories and Poems
From a Forgotten Life
Ateneo de Naga University Press, 2018
Don't Tell Anyone:
Literary Smut
With Shakira Andrea Sison
Pride Press / Anvil Publishing, 2017
Cupful of Anger,
Bottle Full of Smoke:
The Stories of
Jose V. Montebon Jr.
Silliman Writers Series, 2017
First Sight of Snow
and Other Stories
Encounters Chapbook Series
Et Al Books, 2014
Celebration: An Anthology to Commemorate the 50th Anniversary of the Silliman University National Writers Workshop
Sands and Coral, 2011-2013
Silliman University, 2013
Handulantaw: Celebrating 50 Years of Culture and the Arts in Silliman
Tao Foundation and Silliman University Cultural Affairs Committee, 2013
Inday Goes About Her Day
Locsin Books, 2012
Beautiful Accidents: Stories
University of the Philippines Press, 2011
Heartbreak & Magic: Stories of Fantasy and Horror
Anvil, 2011
Old Movies and Other Stories
National Commission for Culture
and the Arts, 2006
FutureShock Prose: An Anthology of Young Writers and New Literatures
Sands and Coral, 2003
Nominated for Best Anthology
2004 National Book Awards
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© 2002-2021
IAN ROSALES CASOCOT
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
12:51 PM |
Lost in Nowhereland
I like the choices Sofia Coppola makes in her new film
Somewhere [2010]: her preference for stillness, for observation. Films that observe people as they do, or not do things, have always fascinated me -- and when they are composed in a mise-en-scene that pulsates, they transcend to a kind of cinematic poetry. Observe, for example, the films of Tsai Ming-Liang or Yasujiro Ozu, where dialogue is minimal, and action, background, and foreground become the story. They are not always easy to admire, and in fact those without a sliver of patience in their bodies would probably brand these films "boring" -- except that they forget that what boredom really is is a reflection of their own lack of density and depth. Coppola's Somewhere observes, allows the viewer access to the minutes and small events that make up a life. This one is the story of an actor [Stephen Dorff], in the drift of time between projects, who goes about a life of such banal but ennui-filled subterfuge in Los Angeles' Chateau Marmont, a hotel famous for housing some legendary film stars, and here stands for the existential displacement his character is undergoing but has scarcely examined. He knows he lacks something, some sort of pull that should be his private gravity -- but knows only to temporarily fill it with little appointments, parties, dancing pole girls, and meaningless sex -- and the compulsion to drive around in furious circles in the desert in his sportscar. Then one day, a young daughter [Elle Fanning] comes to stay with him, perhaps indefinitely, perhaps not -- and something happens to him, in him. What? We don't really know, but it is a decisive act that we get in the end, veiled away from unnecessary explanations the way we don't exactly know what Bill Murray whispered to Scarlett Johanson's ear at the end of
Lost in Translation [2007], which this film seems to reflect as a narrative cousin. I like this film. It is not a great one, but it's truthful.
Labels: directors, film
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