Okay, so this fantasy movie has to do with World War II and displaced children, but all resemblance to The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe ends there, because Tim Burton went and made it creepy. Or maybe the book was already creepy, and the movie is just true to the source material. I guess I was hoping for something more like Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters from The X-Men.
I am not sure just how creepy the movie was or wasn’t, because the plane landed and I didn’t see the whole thing. None of the subsequent planes had it in the catalog! I’m curious to see the end, but I’m not in any particular rush.
I had never heard of this ancient city, which is a real place, an archaeological site in what is now Pakistan. Since the movie is about a real place about which little is known, there’s a disclaimer reminding viewers that the movie makers made use of artistic license—they’re just telling an interesting story about the place, not trying to tell the true history of it.
The sets and costumes were interesting, but the plot seemed forced. The country-boy hero has a secret destiny, goes off to the city, falls in love with the princess/priestess, discovers his true identity, saves the day, blah blah blah. There was a lot of telling rather than showing.
I was expecting a terrible comedy, but this Dreamworks cartoon explores some emotional family themes and has a fantasy premise that is inventive yet strangely logical: the corporation in charge of sending babies to Earth is concerned that humans are starting to prefer puppies to babies, so they send down the Boss Baby as an undercover agent, with the result that the baby’s older brother gets jealous, discovers that the Boss Baby isn’t really a baby, and then has to help save the world from indifference to newborns.
Hollywood has made yet another movie about Hollywood! It’s also about compromises, almosts, and might-have-beens; strangely, this Hollywood movie doesn’t quite have a happy Hollywood ending. Worth watching unless you’re one of those people who can’t abide musicals.
This one’s different. It made a ton of money and earned praise from critics. I’d say it’s worth watching even if you’re not a teen or an anime fan. The story is deeply emotional and surprisingly complex.
Interestingly, the cucumber package shows ‘salads’, ‘sandwiches’, ‘stir-fry’, and ‘sushi’ all in the correct form, even though ‘salad’ requires an ‘s’, ‘sandwich’ requires ‘es’, and ‘stir-fry’ and ‘sushi’ are uncountable.
Why, then, was it so hard to give ‘cucumber’ its plural ‘s’?
I’m not sure what the theme was, but the fantasy/action plot was suitably, um, suitable for a superficially fun fantasy/action movie, there were some good laughs, and although the dialog was somewhat predictable, it didn’t sound cardboardy—except when it was describing the evil magical stuff.
When my husband took me to a squinchy Japanese restaurant that had high chairs at a bar-style counter, the server laconically instructed me to put my bag “downstairs”, which meant “on the shelf under the seat of the chair”.
I have heard English teachers eager to hold students accountable for their spoken language deride this common Singlish use of “downstairs”, but it’s wonderful (and typical) in its succinctness.
If you use the preposition “under”, you have to include a noun for the preposition to be, well, positioned in front of. If you use the adverb “downstairs”, you’re just saying something needs to go below something else, and letting context do the work of indicating what the something else is.
Chinese has a phrase approximately meaning “down side” which can be used the way the server was using “downstairs” to adverbially indicate “under something”. It also has phrases meaning “up side”, “behind side”, “opposite side”, etc., and you can say “located opposite side” without needing to say “located opposite the hotel”, for example, the way we can say in English that “the receipt is in the bag” or just “the receipt is inside”.
I get the sense that Chinese relies on context more than English, or at least relies on context in ways that English doesn’t, since a large proportion communication in any language is always shared context.