Yet More Observations About My Job

So I've been at my current job almost three months, what would be considered the "probationary period" at most companies and the point at which your benefits finally kick in. But my benefits kicked in when I started, so I guess I'd better get my ass to a dentist...

I still enjoy my position quite a bit, even if the patently ridiculous nature of some of my tasks (I won't post them here, but they aren't that different from most office busy-work) and office politics have started to rear their ugly heads. My work is writing related and I do have to work my brain muscles on a fairly regular basis. Sure, there are days when my eyes glaze over, but I get paid to play video games and surf the net. Things could be so much worse.

Another thing that helps is my coworkers. They are all genuinely awesome, cool people. Because I work in translation, the majority of my colleagues are educated and not originally from Canada and as a result the cafeteria conversations are free of your standard observations of what Britney Spears did on the weekend. Recent topics include the German education system, the Brazilian economy and French politics. T

While I am a Canadian, I find that I relate to my foreign coworkers very well as I am still an outsider here in a lot of regards. I think they also find it interesting how different things can be on one side of the country versus another. here are also discussions on Quebec language laws, which my coworkers for the most part find unnecessary and bordering on fascist.

While the office itself is very quiet due to our reliance on MSN for office communications, everyone is warm and friendly. My department tends to stick together, but that suits me just fine. We also take turns bringing in baked goods when it is someone's birthday.

Movies I Watched Instead of Writing: Funny Games (2008)

Last night we went to see Michael Haneke's American remake of his own film: Funny Games. I had been avoiding Haneke for a long time, not sure if I would be able to stomach his reportedly brutal and downbeat style. But being that I had survived both Irreversible and A Hole In My Heart and actually enjoyed them-- at least on an intellectual level-- it seemed time to give Haneke a try.

While I usually prefer to go into a film blind, I opted to readKatrina Onstad's review on CBC.ca first as I generally respect her opinion and find her to be an excellent writer. For the most part I agree with what she says, although admittedly I have not seen the original and cannot compare them. But, a shot for shot remake ten years after the fact is a curious for your American directing debut.

In a way it makes perfect sense, as it is a rather didactic comment on the American appetite for glossy film violence, one that for the most part was overlooked by the intended audience because lord knows Americans can't be bothered to "read" their movies. And so it was relocated to the Hamptons and English speaking actors capable of convincing American accents were cast.

The film is full of harrowing and impressive acting, particularly Michael Pitt as the chief attacker. Naomi Watts and Tim Roth also turn in predictably strong and emotional performances as the set upon couple, and Devon Gearhart as their son shows talent beyond his years. But, middle-class coldness and the ineffectual American male have become cliches in the intervening years since the original film and act as barriers between the viewer and the characters. But this is likely by design.

However, the film is not simply an "examination of violence" as most critics dismissively have called it. In its construction and content, Funny Games is almost a joke on the audience, mean spirited to those not expecting it, and absurdist to those who are.

The biggest joke, of course, is that very little graphic violence is actually shown on screen. The most horrific violence is only implied with sound effects and careful framing. What he does show is the mundane, the meaningless details and rituals that we cling to even in times of crisis. In an age where studios greedily green light so called "Torture Porn", Haneke's remake is at once a comment on our appetite for violence and a cinematic scolding for our lack of intellectualism.

But to compare Funny Games with something like Saw is to sorely miss the point. The most graphic scene in the film is the one the audience is actually yearning for, not in a sadistic, voyeuristic way, but in a way that satisfies our cinema fed sense of justice. The small audience in the theater with us actually cheered at that scene, which seemed to be the reaction Haneke was going for, since the audience is chastised immediately following the scene with an audacious, almost comical, rupture of the four wall.

Self-reflectivity is introduced early on as a device in the film, with Michael Pitt speaking directly to the camera at numerous points, challenging the viewer to deny their complicitness in the proceedings. And while Haneke does make an interesting point about the role of the viewer, the message feel old and empty. And that is certainly part of the point too.

While pretension usually upsets me in a director, Haneke's cinematic lecture was more like a joke that he himself was in on. It is an intellectual exercise masquerading as a thriller. It wants you to be horrified and angry and upset, because those are the predictable, and in a way most comforting, reactions to the film. But dismissing something solely because it upsets us is both unfair and simplistic.

While the message of the film is far from fresh, Haneke's skill as a director cannot be denied. The specter of Hitchcock is clearly present in the careful framing of visual clues. Even the plot can be seen as an allusion to Rope, with its privileged boys who murder for sport. But while Hitchcock had Jimmy Stewart to dismiss the villain's intellectual arguments, Haneke does not rely on a "voice of reason". He wouldn't see the point.

In Defense of Long Duk Dong (sort of)

Because my workload can vary dramatically from one day to the next, I spend a lot of time surfing the internet, watching webisodes and obsessively refreshing my favourite blogs. Which is how I found this post on the NPR In Character blog about everyone's favourite Asian stereotype: Long Duk Dong from Sixteen Candles. The gist of the article is basically that Dong is a stereotype and Asian American men who attended school in the 80's were all at one time or another referred to as "the Donger".

As the child of a Japanese Canadian woman (Sansei for those who care) and a Caucasian father, I've been aware of the evils of racism and stereotyping since perhaps a little earlier than most people. Things like the Japanese Canadian internment during WWII formed my identity as a child. While the majority of my childhood was rooted in western culture (I never did learn how to speak more than a few words in Japanese), I was aware that not everyone had a Baachan instead of a Grandma, not everyone went to a Buddhist Church on Sundays and not everyone had stick straight black hair they couldn't do anything with.

And while I haven't had the same cultural experience as other Asian-Canadians, I usually identify as "Asian" because that is how others identify me first. And I take this to heart. I smile politely when people tell me I need to visit Japan, a country even my mother has never been to and has few ties with. And I take negative (or in most cases ridiculous) portrayals of Asians very personally.

And yet, I love, no... I LOVE, Long Duk Dong. I am not sure if this is a love worth defending, or if I should just characterize it as a guilty pleasure, but here I go anyways.

As kids, my sister and I grew up on John Hughes movies. My favourite was (predictably) The Breakfast Club. Her's was (also predictably) was Sixteen Candles. And even though we know better, to this day we giggle hysterically as we trade Dong-isms back and forth:

"You beat up my face".

"Sexy American Girrrlfriend!"

"Mehleed?"

But I think on some level it is because we know that these jokes belonged to us. None of our other friends are allowed to laugh at these jokes, lest they be branded a racist. Which is a shame, because they are really fucking funny. Not because they reinforce offensive stereotypes, although they do. They are funny because the actor delivering the lines is genuinely funny.

Sixteen Candles was Gedde Watanabe's second film role, and likely the first one to give him anything to do. While things have improved somewhat for Asian actors since the '80's, let's try to wrap our heads for one second around how hard it must have been for Watanabe to break into things in the first place. Obviously he read the script and understood what his role in the film was. He was comic relief. He was a stereotype. He was the "other". And he acts the fucking hell out of his role.

I guess this is one of the things that lets me not get completely offended by the Donger, as opposed to Mickey Rooney's portrayal of Mr. Yunioshi in Breakfast at Tiffany's-- at least the Donger was portrayed by an Asian person. It is more like we are laughing with someone, than at someone. Watanabe understands how outrageous his performance is, Mr. Rooney was relying on WWII stereotypes created to demonize Japanese people. Long Duk Dong is a comedic character who happens to be Asian. He could easily have come from England, or Kazhikstan, and while he would still a stereotype, it is the stereotype of "other", not simply a nasty embodiment of what white people think Asians are.

Granted, I was not an Asian male growing up in the '80's. I know I will never truly understand the complicated expectations that are heaped on Asian men, but I do have a hard time with this albatross of Asianess that so many of my Asian male friends carry around with them, the whole "Banana Boys" identity crisis thing. Maybe it is because I am not "completely" Asian. Maybe it is because I am an Asian female and therefor fetishized and desireable. But I take almost as much offense at this self martyrdom as I do the less savoury aspects of Long Duk Dong. As I pointed out to one Asian male friend while he moaned and wailed about how hard life is for Asian men and how white girls (or girls in general) weren't interested in Asian men: maybe female lack of interest comes from the fact that women are simply turned off by whining and moaning. Then again, I have never been called "The Donger" or been asked if I knew Kung Fu simply because of the colour of my skin (I do however regularly get asked if I eat a lot of sushi, especially now that I live in Quebec...)

That said, I am not trying to excuse Long Duk Dong all together. The accent is problematic and the whole dressing like a retarded person joke is offensive on multiple levels.

Focusing on what was positive about the character: depictions of Asian men on film have been traditionally non-sexual. There have been entire master thesis written about how Bruce Lee is the only guy in Enter the Dragon who doesn't go fool around with the girls. Arguably it was because Lee wanted to be portrayed as a spiritual, serious minded fighter. Fine. But that is only one in long line of examples. Dong, on the other hand, on his first night out, hooks up with a busty blond. Granted she is a "geek", not possessing the aesthetic qualities demanded by middle-American ideals of beauty, but she's exactly what Dong is looking for. She makes him happy. And the fact that they are both outsiders seems to solidify their relationship, and make them probably the most functional couple portrayed in the film, even if it is only for one night.

We Did It!

With news that temperatures in Montreal hit 12 degrees Celsius today, and that we'll be breaking 10 degrees again later this week, I think it is fair to officially declare our victory over winter. I didn't even have to wear long-johns this morning.

I was close to giving up hope, but given the sheer viciousness of the weather this year I think we survived our first Eastern Canadian winter pretty well.

Now we can look forward to building a vegetable garden, getting a BBQ, drinking sangria on patios, the Jazz Fest, Fantasia, visitors from Vancouver...

But first we'll need to clean up all the garbage that got trapped between the layers of now melting snow:
Eww.

Weekend Round-Up: Spendy Cupcakes, Comix & Salsa Dancing

Because L. and I both work day jobs, a lot of our exploring the city is done on the weekend. In the spirit of providing as much first hand experience of Montreal as possible, I had been wanting to do some sort of Weekend Round-Up feature for a while now, but I would usually forget until Wednesday, at which point the previous weekend was starting to get fuzzy and it stopped seeming all that relevant. I was hoping to have this post up on Monday, which would have made more sense, but we're a girl short at work right now so I actually have something to do during the work day. So here you go:

Friday: Hooked up with MC as I was going to be in her hood running some errands and I wanted to drop off Alain's metro card which he had given me last weekend as he was going to be out of town for a week and figured I could use it. Had a very girly evening of buying Organic shower gel, $15 worth of cupcakes at Petits Gateaux & body butter at Bella Pella. Grabbed dinner at our new addiction, Thai Express & met up with L. at our new favourite video store, Club Video Beaubien. Rented The Getaway (original), Pump Up the Volume & Shampoo. Watched Pump Up the Volume, which is AWESOME and the only Christian Slater movie Kim and I didn't watch during a sleepover night because her mom rented us If Looks Could Kill instead.

Saturday: In an effort to break out of our usual routine we opted to explore the Mile End neighborhood which is basically the area between us and The Plateau on St-Laurent. It is a predominently Anglo & student hood, with lots of cool boutiques and bagel shops. Had brunch at tiny, but packed Brazilian restaurant with roasted fruits. Found Drawn & Quarterly, a very nice store specializing in alternative and indie-press comics and novels. L. hinted strongly at wanting the Rick Trembles book, I finally picked up Therefore, Repent! and butted in on conversation about Vancouver and the till. Found another Organic supermarket with a huge selection of wellness & cosmetic products. Will pick up foundation there when I am all out. Headed up to Plaza St. Hubert to try on Yoga pants at Belle & Rebelle. On the way there we stopped in to Studio 9, which I had been avoiding it because it is so close, but I will have to start a box or something there. Didn't really find any pants & went home. I worked on computer (hello, editing!) while L. cleaned. Sorta participated in Earth Hour by watching the Habs game by candlelight with no heat (it's better than nothing, right?). After the game, Alain & MC came by to watch my recently purchased (for $9.99, natch!) Showgirls VIP Limited Edition Box Set. I made the mistake of the playing the drinking game with red wine. Tried watching Shampoo after Alain & MC took off, but my tummy would have none of it. Vomited red potato chips into the sink and called it a night.

Sunday: After Saturday night's adventures, opted to join Annie for Salsa Dancing classes in the Village instead of our planned outing to the Wine & Spirits Salon. Met Annie & Mel for breaky first at their favourite weekend haunt, Coco Gallo (after we introduced them). L. and I managed to get through the lesson without breaking up or physically harming each other, so that was good. Had coffee in the village with Annie and her friends before departing to wander downtown prior to getting to Comedyworks to see Andrea in a best of Open Mike showcase/contest. She won in a tie. Stumbled home & passed out by 11:30 pm.

French Slang Saturdays: Ben

Today's slang word is a good multi-purpose word and adopting it's usage is one of the fastest ways to sound like a native Quebequer.

Ben [adj]: Literally: very. Can be used literally, at the beginning of a sentence or as a pause the same way as "well..." or to add emphasis.

This one might take longer to load because it is a bit longer than the previous videos, but that's because there are so many ways to use the word. I've also upped the production values a bit with the introduction of titles and transitions (oooh, impresive!)

Microbrasseries & Brew Pubs I Have Been To

In an attempt to refine L.'s pallet in preparation for The Great Home Brew Adventure, Alain has been dragging us all over Montreal to experience some of the many Microbraseries and Brew Pubs. People in Quebec take their native beers very seriously, and they should given the consistently high quality on offer. Below is a list of the establishments we have visited so far with mini-reviews and my favourite brews when applicable.

1) Dieu Du Ciel
Alain's favourite and everyone else's considering the place is jam-packed every time we've tried to go. They have a rotating selection of uniformly delicious beers, including a coffee stout called Peche Mortel (Mortal Sin) and everything else from Scotch Ales, to Porters, to Barley Wine to European varieties you've never heard of. Worth the effort to get a table, you can also find their brews in certain specialty shops (like our favourite Delires Du Terroir). Added bonus: the nachos are insanely good, more like fresh bruchetta on top of chips topped with broiled Quebec cheese. Nom nom!

2) L'amère à boire
Where we end up most often due to it's proximity to the Cartier Latin and Scotiabank Theatres. Also featuring a rotating selection of beers & an upstairs and downstairs bar (more selection downstairs). My current fav is the Odense Porter, although I'll settle for Drak when it's not available. The Odense Porter is very rich with a caramel top note and a smoky full body. The Drak tastes kinda like warm honey toast and has a satisfying, dry finish. The Imperial Stout is also very tasty, but a little dangerous at 7.5%. They also serve food of the upscale tapas variety, and while not cheap it is super delicious. I highly recommend the Kielbasa & Portobello Salad for
$6.

3) Saint-Bock
Just a couple doors down from L'amère à boire, Saint-Bock is similar to Vices & Versa in that they sell all sorts of different beers, not just ones produced on site. They also have one of the most comprehensive menus of any of the microbrasseries we've been to, even if they didn't have any deserts available when we were there. The selection is revolving with about 20 different beers to choose from on any given day. I decided to be adventurous and tried a carrot beer, which would normally be lighter than I prefer, but really hit the spot with just a hint of spice. I followed that up with an Omega 3 Brown Ale made with roasted flax seed that was also not too heavy, but with a full, nutty/roasted flavour. They also have giant TV screens if you wanna catch a game.

4) Sergeant Recruiter
Located in the Plateau, its proximity to Dieu Du Ciel makes it a good back-up if we can't get a table. My favourite so far is the Nessy Scotch Ale, which is rich but not heavy and very drinkable. They also do wood fired pizza's which are very yummy and made with local ingredients and they have a sister store (Saum Mom) next door specializing in smoked salmon (& gravalox etc.) And, on Sundays they have French raconteurs (story tellers)!

5) Vices & Versa
Not a brewpub per se, this bistro style bar does carry a couple exclusive brews which is enough for me to include it. Located across the park from us, it is also usually packed beyond belief. The rotating selection again means it can be hit and miss, but the staff is more than happy to help out and you usually have upwards of 15 brews to choose from. And the nachos are tasty and full of olives. They also boast a lunch menu and wireless internet access.

6) Benelux
Cafe by day, pub by night, one of the definite highlights is the back room built into the vault of this converted bank. A good place to catch a game, their American Brown Ale was a little hoppy for me, but I'm dying to try their 9% Russian Imperial Stout. They also offer cheese and olive plates as well as European sausages.

7) Brutopia
Often crowded and loud due to bands playing. First time I went I got the Nut Brown Ale which sounds good, but is actually pretty disappointing. The seasonal offerings like the Maple Stout are much safer options and I have it on good authority that their Honey Beer is tasty and refreshing. They stop serving food at 11 PM, and it's of the very greasy pub-food variety. That said, it's probably the only place on Crescent I can see myself going to.

8) 3 Brasseurs
Like the McDonald's of microbrasseries, this chain is especially popular with tourists and frat boys. Only been in once and after waiting 20 minutes for someone to take a drink order that never arrived, we opted to leave and never come back. Ever.

French Slang Saturdays: Capoter

Capoter [v]: Literally it means capsize, but in slang usage it means "to freak out". Can be used positively or negatively, to express elation or frustration. Conjugated in the usual fashion.

Movies I Watched Instead of Writing: Mémoires Affectives & Mon Fille, Mon Ange

After trying and failing to watch the Jutras (Quebec's answer to the Oscars) a couple weeks ago (just too "French" for me, and by "French" I mean "lame"), we opted instead to rent some of the movies that were either nominated or had won in previous years. While compiling a list of our options we discovered that we had missed out on quite a few recent, good, Quebecois films, so we've got some work ahead of us.

That night we rented Mémoires affectives (2004), Séraphin: un homme et son péché (2002) and the "classic" Quebecois comedy, Elvis Gratton (1981).

After staring at the screen in disbelief for the first 10 minutes of Elvis Gratton, I decided that I would rather watch "the one about the guy in the coma", so we popped in Mémoires affectives with former pretty-boy Roy Dupuis. In the 18 or so years since endearing himself to every pre-teen girl in Quebec with his role in the seminal tele-roman, Les Filles de Caleb, M. Dupuis has managed to develop into quite a talented actor and is easily one of the biggest stars in the province.

The film opens with someone taking Alex (Dupuis) off of life support, but instead of just dying the act forces him out of the coma he has been in for the last 6 months. As a side effect of being in a coma for so long, Alex has almost complete amnesia and is therefor useless to the multiple police investigations he is involved with, the first pertaining to who tried to kill him in the hospital and the second being how he found himself in the coma in the first place.

His wife, Michelle (Nathalie Coupal), from whom he was estranged at the time of his accident; wants to pretend that everything is fine and that the years of trouble never happened. His daughter, Sylvaine (Karine Lagueux), is disgusted by what she perceives as her mother's hypocrisy, but she too struggles with what role she wants this man to play in her life. Alex, for his part, is more concerned with putting back together the pieces of his identity, even if the resulting picture is less than admirable.

I won't give away too much more of the plot as one the most engaging things about the film is trying to put together all the disparate memories and clues together along with Alex. We discover information at the same time as the character and because of Dupuis' touching performance we are usually as surprised and disappointed as he is when the information is negative. Unfortunately, the director introduces too many mysteries to properly resolve all of them at the end of the film, but this is far from a reason to avoid the film.

The film is similar in many ways to Memento in the way that it plays on our notions of memory and identity, but in many ways it is a much stronger film because it focuses more heavily on character development and setting. The acting is uniformly good, with Dupuis stealing the show with a nuanced and sympathetic portrayal of a man literally searching for himself. The cinematography is beautiful in that typically Canadian way and the choice to set the film in Baie St-Paul in the winter yields some spectacular shots.

Overall, Mémoires affectives (Looking for Alex in English) is a very strong Canadian film and while not perfect, it is definitely worth a look.

That Wednesday we rented the "controversial" Mon Fille, Mon Ange (My Daughter, My Angel). Promoted as a gritty look at the real world of online porn, the film is actually a Holywood-ized who-done-it melodrama, with some of Michel Côté's hammiest acting to date. And yes, that is saying something.

Côté (who L. likes to call Quebec's answer to Al Pacino), plays Germain Degenais, a former lawyer now working for the office of a prominent cabinet minister in the Quebec legislature. His daughter, Nathalie (Karine Vanasse), has taken off to the big bad city of Montreal to attend university and unbeknownst to her parents, fallen in with the wrong crowd: namely, strippers and pornographers. While settling in to an evening of "working" alone in his study, Germain is shocked (shocked I say!) to discover his "ange" promoting herself on a porn site as "Samantha", the new girl. See, she's going to be poppin' her porno cherry live in 4 days, meaning Germain has only 4 days to get to Montreal, find, and save his little girl.

The film utilizes an interesting device of starting at the end, the result being one dead porno producer, and tracing things back through Germain's admission to a work colleague and Nathalie's interrogation by a police detective, played by Christian Begin. We don't actually know who killed the sleaze-bag and the film does a good job of conceiling the true killer right up until the end. Both Nathalie and Germain confess that the other has done a terrible thing, and its up to the audience to determine what is meant by their statements. Neither one is what the other believes them to be, Nathalie the perfect student is really Nathalie the backdoor slut and Germain's perfect political exterior covers some rather shocking rage issues; but does that make either one of them a killer?

The film is briskly paced at an hour and 25 minutes, so the audience is seldom bored. However, this doesn't leave much room for plausible character development and this is the film's greatest weakness. The exception is Laurence LeBeouf as Nathalie's childhood friend Angelique, who radiates with a primal energy in her portrayal of an almost middle-class girl in way over her head and she deservedly won this year's Jutra prize for breakout performance.

While entertaining enough, Mon fille, mon ange is a largely forgettable who done it and not really worth seeking out.

French Slang Saturdays: Plate

While my first post about Quebecois slang was neatly arranged around a single theme, I've found myself struggling with a good way to post about all the other Quebecois slang I've been absorbing that would a) make sense and b) not be insanely long. So, in an attempt to kill two birds with one stone I've opted to post one slang word per week. And I'm including video of me saying the word!

If there are words that you would like explore in a future post, please let me know in the comments, or send me an email.

This week's word:

Plate [adj]: Lame. Literally means "flat", but is used to describe anything boring or just generally sucky and undesirable.