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Keith is a Japanese twenty-something who is followed by Death in various disguises. When he finally faces her, Death tells him that he has only 12 hours to live and he needs to make the most of it. Written by
And good luck tonight. Hey I got something for you. I got Italian condom. Very nice, very thin... Oh no. I think they gonna be too big for you. You know... Japanese...
[holds up pinky finger]
What they say.
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i keep spewing words, hoping i'll hit one that describes how i feel
i just finished watching "too tired to die" on cinemax. i had seen the commercial for it earlier today, and it looked like it was a good watch. basically, a japanese slacker, played by takeshi kenshiro (from 'chungking express' - another excellent movie), is approached by death, played by mira sorvino, and told that he has 12 hours to live. from that premise, i figured it would be your basic lark of a movie, seeing how a slacker deals with the fact that he has half a day left to live.
it wasn't quite the hour and a half of hijinx and hilarity that i'd expected.
not to say that it wasn't good. it was. i just --- it was one of those movies that ends and i'm not quite sure just what i'm feeling. one of those movies without an actual crescendo or climax or resolution, or anything. not your typical movie vehicle. and so, now that it's over, i have no idea what to feel. i mean, it basically followed his 12 hours, and the surreal, bizarre events that take place. i can't even discuss it or how i feel about it or talk about what happened, because i don't want to spoil it for whomever might be reading this. it was just one of those movies that leaves you hanging and yet, at the same time, doesn't. it was a little confusing, and a little ... i don't even know.
i can't help but feel that i missed out on something in the movie. like it was some art piece that somehow escapes me. that i can't quite understand. which is funny, because that exact premise came up in the movie, where kenji (the main character) is looking at a piece of abstract art and asks the artist if it's possible to like something without understanding it. i guess that's how i feel about the movie. i liked it, and i know it was a good movie, but i can't understand it. and i can't help but wonder if i'm missing out on something bigger because i can't understand it. for maybe it wasn't even meant to be understood. after all, isn't the purpose of art to create different meanings in different people? each person who views it, who experiences it, creates their own interpretation of it. maybe it wasn't intended to be understood. just watched, enjoyed (and i don't even know if i enjoyed it. if that makes any sense. i know i liked it, but did i enjoy it?), and appreciated.
maybe this is what the director had in mind. maybe this is what he wanted? for the audience, after watching it, to just sit and not know what they feel. whether or not they enjoyed it, or understood it, or even knew what the hell just happened.
i know i want a copy of it, though. i know that i want to be able to share it with people, and --
i just called a friend on his cell phone. told him to remember the name of the movie, and try to catch it on cinemax, or watch it. i need someone to share it with. discuss it with. someone to help me understand it, maybe, i don't even know. it's just too --- god. it's a mind f*ck, and emotion f*ck, a head f*ck. i couldn't even form coherent sentences on the phone, while trying to explain the movie to phil. i feel like i'm some sort of messed up, bizarre drug, that's how messed this movie has me. i don't get it. it was such a ... non-movie movie ... and yet it's got me so affected. it just WHAM hit me. maybe it's just me. just some weird emotional state i'm in that was triggered or enhanced by the movie, but i can't remember being this -- shaken, moved, affected, bewildered -- by a movie. i keep rambling on, spewing words onto the computer, hoping one of them will help describe what i feel, but so far none of them are even close to it.
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