” A trooper until the very edge….”

“On Friday, March 9, 2012  the film Silent House will be released here in the United States.  I was unaware until I went to search for a trailer that it is in fact a remake of a Spanish film.  A remake.  Again.  I know, right?  My first thought was “where are the original thinkers?! Where is/who are the unique artiste(s) anymore? Well, we’ll let the excuses slide today as supposedly it is “inspired by true events”.  Maybe.  Will have to see the film first. Did you catch the reference to the FaceBook, the ubiquitous Book of Faces in the trailer?  So which will be better?  The original Spanish with English subtitles or the American, English language remake? 

Not long ago I was perusing the foreign film section at my local library, a library btw straight out of 1969, and spotted the original Swedish film The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. (No, no I have not seen the 2011 American version.) As time would have it or my mismanagement of time would have it, I didn’t start watching it until very late the night before it was due back.  (there are no renewals on movies here, go figure.)  I realize that foreign language films (with English subtitles) are not for everyone.  Attention!!  Ocular agility is a must!  The eye dynamics are not for the feint of heart, eh?  Slow readers need not apply. LOL 

The question:  “are you missing out on a better version of a film if the original is made in a language other than your native tongue?”  Granted, if the only version of a film you have seen is the American, English language one then you don’t know what you may have missed.  And then there is the likelihood that the first version (of the film) will always be the preferred version.  No matter what.

For example, the 2006 film Fearless with Jet Li.  I watched it with the English subtitles. The movie blew me away.  I loved it.  My SO on the other hand couldn’t handle the subtitle thing and fell asleep within the first 15 minutes.  But the film had such an impact on me I programmed the DVD machine the next day to translate the dialogue into English and insisted my SO watch the last part of the movie.  Needless to say I disliked it with the English “dub”.  NO COMPARISON.  For me, the power of the story – it’s essence, it’s emotion, carried the film way beyond the subtitle thing. Besides, excellent martial arts always gets a thumbs up from me.  I get all gooey inside….love it.  

A few final words about watching foreign, subtitled movies.  40 minutes into it, reading Eveyln Wood style… you don’t even notice you are reading subtitles anymore.  If the film is done well, if you are watching a good movie, you will be transported to, placed within, a magical land of someone else’s life irrespective of language barrier(s) and become immersed within it’s scenery to witness, watch and wonder.

    

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14 thoughts on “” A trooper until the very edge….”

  1. That trailer looks so creepy to me… but then, I don’t like being scared. My imagination seems to never let go of things like this, especially if I don’t watch to the end.

    1. It does!! Me neither but I usually do have to watch until the end even if it’s looking between splayed fingers (cuz my hands have been covering my face. lol)
      The part where she is running down the stairs – scary. That is the advantage of living in a one story home. Less time for something to “get you”. lol
      While I was growing up we lived in a raised ranch. Off the kitchen were the stairs that lead to the basement – about 12? At the bottom of these was a room to the left, the door leading out to the garage and a half bath. Outside the half bath and around a corner were 3 more steps that finally lead to our finished basement.
      In the basement was the piano. I never had a problem going down to the basement, it was the coming up part that could be dicey. But I had the rhythm of it down pat. I would run up the first 3 stairs, hit the light switch (off) perfectly, round the corner to the left and run up the big flight hitting that light switch off on the way up until finally….the safety of the kitchen.
      I know I’m rambling…. I have one memory of going over to the house as a grown adult. No one was home. After raiding the fridge I decided I would play for a bit (remember the piano?) Naturally as I descended the first flight of stairs I left the light on, descended the last 3 and left that light on as well. (no one gets hurt if enough lights are on right? LOL) I had been sitting playing for about and hour or so when I heard something. (Exactly like they say in the movies!!) Could not initially identify what I heard but it was not typical, house settling noises. I carefully stopped playing (like how do you “carefully” do that?) and sat there listening. Then, believe it or not I quietly (why?!) went to the far side of the basement to the part right underneath the living room and listened some more. Sure as s@#! I heard footsteps. Decided to go back to my seat at the piano and listen again just to make sure. I remain convinced to this day that while I sat there, with only a spotlight on the keys for light, I heard someone or something slowly walk across our living room floor. Since I was dealing with…the impossible?….the paranormal? I tried for oh, about a nano second to convince myself I was not hearing footsteps. As calm as I was up until that point, I knew I was not mistaking what I was hearing.
      Holy shit! Now what? This is what…..I turned off the piano light and flew up all stairs, turning off all the lights on the way up in what seemed a single motion, grabbed all my stuff and was out the front door I swear, in less than a minute. Spooked for sure.

      1. LOLOL. That you actually sat back down again is amazing.
        I would have charged screaming up the stairs with my eyes closed,
        swinging a kitchen knife back and forth. Is this,
        by any chance, where the infamous ” Casper ” ambush took place?

        1. It is amazing:) but I felt like I had to keep control
          if for just a moment and “be sure”. LOL
          If you remember “35”, there are 2 hard left
          turns to take while running up those stairs
          before reaching the safety of the kitchen.
          Never even felt them (the stairs) under my feet:D
          If anyone was looking at the front of the house
          at the moment I ran out…..just a blur.
          Yes, the very same place:)

    1. Since you ask….yes. But then, who would believe?
      I do not remember the specifics however, in daylight hours, I again found myself
      heading out the front door in a hurry. Only this time I was not alone. Confirmation
      I wasn’t crazy? lol I was in high school. My best friend came over right after school
      to hang out. No parents home, just us. Whatever it was we heard, we simultaneously had
      the same thought – we quickly “left the building”. We stood on the front porch nervously
      laughing. We did not go back in the house.
      The other incidents came after my Mom died. Some would have “reasonable” explanations but
      I choose to believe otherwise. The most vivid, real, sure as shit other incident happened shortly after she died. I was in the kitchen putzing around. (That’s right. No one home at
      the time. No witnesses:D) Didn’t think to look at the clock to take note of the time, but I
      went to the head of the stairs, (yes,the ones leading to the basement)and called out “what?”. I know someone just called my name. I heard my name. It was an immediate, automatic response. Someone called me, I answered. Then my brain caught up with my body. Oopsy. There was no one physically there that called my name even though I heard it and responded accordingly.
      The other stories had to do with my Dad. There were times he was convinced that someone
      during the night would roll the blankets back to the foot of his bed. Or he would “feel” something on the bed. He would describe it as “light pressure” as if someone were sitting
      there. My Dad was not physically agile so what would be required to turn back the covers
      neatly wasn’t a thing he could do on his own. The “creepiest” episode was the one in which
      he woke up to find the clock radio by his bed turned upside down. Huh. Plenty of rational explanations. But he was convinced it was my Mom doing these things. Covers on, covers off. Radio right side, upside down. She always did have a different sense of humor. Being a clark
      and all:)
      I guess we all have our ghost stories. Both my Dad and his sister, told me some mighty spooky stories over the years. Nothing overly dramatic. It was the simplicity of those stories that raised the little hairs on the back of my neck. Haven’t had any supernatural experiences since “35” so I guess I’m safe for now. Unless I start “seeing dead people”. LOL
      Your ghost story in the cemetary was quite impressive. Have any others you’d like to share?
      Anyone else out there have a “ghost” story?

  2. I do. I’ll put them up over at SecRag. Take up too much room as a comment.
    ( that’s if I ever get done with the karma thing.)
    Oh wait. That IS the karma thing, isn’t it…

  3. Your first story reminded me of the ‘ghost’ Eric, that I grew up with. Every day during nap time he would imitate my mom. We would hear him come up the stairs, walk to mom & dad’s room, then come back down the hallway, stopping at each door to listen. If we weren’t perfectly quiet, he would linger for a very long time. The reason we knew it wasn’t mom is we could hear her walking around downstairs, singing and working.

    If there was only one or two people home, Eric would walk up and down the hall, stepping on every noisy spot, but he left the house several years ago. Now the only ghost is the clompy one we mistook for being dad when we were children.

    Every night, after the lights are shut off, it clomps down the hall, down the stairs, bumps into the metal hamper at the bottom, then noisily opens the medicine cabinet, opens the ibuprofen bottle, snaps the lid back on, usually drops it at least once, before setting it down and closing the cabinet… but you can only hear this if you are upstairs. I have followed it down the stairs watching around the wall and heard everything, but seen nothing.

    1. ?!?! I bow down before you! LOL What a story! Is the rest of your family this casual about Eric? Did your siblings believe you when you told them about going downstairs and hearing but not seeing? Any theories as to “who” this ghost may have been? Did you ever tell your parents and if so did they believe you? Why do you think “he” left? Who lives in the house now? How old is the house and do you know it’s history? The questions won’t stop so I will leave it up to you to fill it all in. 😀
      One part confuses me. (Eric left several years ago?) “Now the only ghost is the clompy one we mistook for being dad when we were children.” Did you think it was your Dad some of the time?What the heck is going on in the house?! Who lives there now? Your parents? Did they ever “witness” Eric?
      I find it very interesting that it is only from the upper level that you hear the noises which means while you kids were napping, scared – I shouldn’t assumed you were scared should I? – Mom was going about her business totally unaware there was a “visitor” interrupting nap time!

      1. lol… Didn’t mean to leave so many questions! The house is 100+ years old, built by my great-grandfather, who homesteaded the place. Family has occupied it for all but about 10 years when it was rented out in the late 30s. My parents live there today.

        Everyone knew about Eric, and that is the reason he was eventually named. Even my dad was aware of him, more than once when we (mom and kids) came home from someplace, dad would be sitting in the living room with a loaded gun and the TV turned way up… Those footsteps up and down the hall really got to him.

        The clomping one, we thought it was dad for years, until one night when he was gone and the noise happened anyway. Then, of course, we had to investigate.

        I don’t remember ever being scared by any of this. We knew about it from the time we moved into the house when I was two. My dad had grown up there, and was aware of Eric from his childhood days.

        Who they are — if they are anybody, is completely unknown to us, and why Eric left is also unknown. He was just gone one day, and it was very obvious. In fact, when I go home, the hallway feels strangely empty now.

        1. Wow-wee!
          I suppose as children you were less likely to think a thing malevolent, unless it was doing some really scaring shit. And scary night time shit at that. Now, speaking of scary….Dad in the living room…..he must not have had the same feeling for Eric? LOL
          Isn’t it amazing that even as adults we think that turning on as many lights as possible or in the case of your Dad, having the volume up on the TV, or radio or stereo is sufficient to ward off ghosts or apparitions or anything unexplainable. No wonder scary movies don’t always appear silly – it’s art imitating life!!
          What did your Mom and siblings think/feel about Eric?

      2. We never talked too much about it, until we were all adults… Then the stories were told and laughed over. My brother hates the topic of anything paranormal, and yet calls me when ever he is facing something… He is unnerved by it. My dad doesn’t know what to make of things. The rest of us pretty much take it in stride, as long as nothing malevolent is going on.

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