International Films

Following is a list of most of the international films I've watched, mostly since mid-August, 2009. A few were seen earlier. Not all are necessarily recommended.

Italian
La Dolce Vita (Fellini)( mid-October, 2009)
8 1/2 (Fellini)
Amarcord (Fellini)
And the Ship Sails On (Fellini)
Caterina in the Big City
Juliet of the Spirits (Fellini)
Night of the Shooting Stars

Japanese
Ping Pong (watched 10/29/2009)
Welcome Back, Mister McDonald (watched mid-October, 2009)
Andromedia
Aragami: The Raging God of Battle
Cafe Lumiere (one of my favorites)
The Dimension Travelers
The Family Game
King of Beggars
Linda Linda Linda
Paprika
Taste of tea
The Twilight Samurai
Zebraman
Zeiram
Zeiram 2

Chinese (Mainland, Taiwan, Mandarin, Hong Kong)
CJ7
Re-cycle (10/21 - Hong Kong and Thailand)
Stolen life
Mercury Man*

Thai
Chocolate


*=presently watching

William Saroyan, The Human Comedy

(The following excerpt is from William Saroyan's 1943 masterpiece, The Human Comedy. An older teacher comments to sixteen year old Homer Macauly on how she views her high
school students.)

'What my children appear to be on the surface is no matter to me. I am fooled neither by gracious manners nor by bad manners. I am interested in what is truly beneath each kind of manners. Whether one of my children is rich or poor, brilliant or slow, genius or simple-minded, is no matter to me, if there is humanity in him -- if he has a heart -- if he loves truth and honor -- if he respects both his inferiors and his superiors. If the children of my classroom are human, I do not want them to be alike in their manner of being human. If they are not corrupt, it does not matter to me how they differ from one another. I want each of my children to be himself. I don't want you to be like somebody else just to please me or to make my work easier. I would soon be weary of a classroom full of perfect little ladies and gentlemen. I want my children to be people-- each one separate -- each one special -- each one a pleasant and exciting variation of all the others.'

T.S. Eliot - Ash-Wednesday, I

Because these wings are no longer wings to fly
But merely vans to beat the air
The air which is now thoroughly small and dry
Smaller and dryer than the will
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still.

Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death
Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.

T.S. Eliot - Ash Wednesday I

Because I know that time is always time
And place is always only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
And only for one place
I rejoice that things are as they are and
I renounce the blessed face
And renounce the voice
Because I cannot hope to turn again
Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something
Upon which to rejoice

T.S. Eliot, Ash-Wednesday, I

Because I do not hope to know again
The infirm glory of the positive hour
Because I do not think
Because I know I shall not know
The one veritable transitory power
Because I cannot drink
There, where trees flower, and springs flow, for there is nothing again

T.S. Eliot - Ash-Wednesday, I

Because I do not hope to turn again
Because I do not hope
Because I do not hope to turn
Desiring this man's gift and that man's scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the aged eagle stretch its wings?)
Why should I mourn
The vanished power of the usual reign?

Yes

Moved by a soft breeze,
quiet as owl wings,
curtains brush windows
in the wall facing east.
Invading breaches in fabric and glass,
blinding sunlight slips past,
bathing the room with shimmering rays,
moment by moment reveals the day.

Tic Tic Tic
The mantle clock clicks,
marking but not making
the switch from what is
to what has been.
In this time present, one second
slips and descends
into the unreal territory
of petrified time,
act couched in memory.

Regret, sad dry waste days,
poor choices made,
cruel words said
where crafted words failed.
Failure to grasp peace,
to lose objectivity
and detachment from what others think:
dogged by what was, fearing what may be.

But in that pause of time present,
bated breath between seconds,
I hear your “Yes."
"Yes," in silent eloquence.
"Yes," carried in the wind's breath.
"Yes," rises from the pages I read.
Amid pensive, fearful dread
speaks your calming "Yes."
With one "Yes"
What was ends.
'Now' begins."

--by Jeff Henry