Thursday, May 29, 2008

I Wish I Knew When I’m Gonna Have Mood to Watch You

Never before in my life, as a self-acclaimed movie-buff, had I intentionally skipped a motion picture that had won many awards and rave reviews from critics and moviegoers alike.
Until the arrival of Brokeback Mountain, hitting huge on big screens worldwide.
But I can assure you, it has nothing to do with its gay-themed issue.



Pertama kali aku menyaksikan trailer film ini di akhir tahun 2005, yang berdekatan waktunya dengan premiere-nya di Festival Film Venesia, deep in my heart langsung kuputuskan bahwa ini film pastinya sangat bagus, dan tidak boleh sampai terlewatkan olehku.

But I tell you what. It was years ago. Because until this very second, aku masih juga belum menontonnya. Even though practically everybody I know already did, even the straight ones.

Why? You may ask. Apa yang sebenarnya terjadi?

Okay, penyebab awal mulanya adalah seperti ini.
Bisakah kamu membayangkan ada satu orang tertentu, yang setiap bertemu dirinya, topik perbincangan dengan dirinya selalu tentang Britney Spears begini dan Britney Spears begitu, Britney Spears peed in the loo.
Yah, ga gitu banget sih sebenarnya maksudku …

It’s just, am not in the position of comparing Britney with Brokeback, though they were both cultural phenomena, at least in North America. Hanya ingin menganalogikan bagaimana rasanya kalau orang yang kebetulan intensitas frekwensi pertemuannya denganmu lumayan kerap, terus ngomongnya ituuuu melulu. Pengen nampar itu orang, ga lo?!

Jadi si orang ini ya, setiap kali bertemu dengannya dalam meeting di sebuah kantor BUMN yang berkantor pusat di Jl. Jenderal Sudirman, akan sempat-sempatnya menggeser kursinya sejenak menghampiri tempat dudukku, atau kalau misalnya ada waktu luang sebelum atau sesudah meeting dia akan secara khusus menghampiriku, lalu mengajak bicara tentang satu hal : “Gimana, Mas, sudah nonton Brokeback Mountain?”

Dan setiap kali jawabanku akan selalu sama: “Tidak, Pak. Belum sempat aja.”

Meskipun aku sudah berusaha menghindari beliau satu ini, dia akan tetap dengan gigihnya mencari peluang untuk menanyakan hal serupa yang itu-lagi itu-lagi. Yah seperti yang kutuliskan itu tadi di atas. Bahkan di tengah-tengah meeting dia sempat-sempatnya menghampiri cuma buat nanya satu hal itu doang. Penting banget ya?, batinku.
Dan kalau jawabanku masih saja negatif, dia akan terus mempromosikan dengan gencarnya. ”Saya nonton terus lho film ini tiap wiken sama istri di EX. Pokoknya saya akan nonton selama masih diputar di XXI” (istrinya ga bosen mampus apa ya?!). Bahkan ia sempat-sempatnya menawarkan untuk membelikan tiket buat nonton. Heh?!?! WTF?!

Andai saja Focus Feature tahu bagaimana gigihnya Bapak satu ini dalam menjualkan salah satu film rilisannya, pastilah mereka akan memberikan insentif sebagai ucapan terimakasih. Mungkin insentif yang pantas ya ketemu sama abang Jack dan mas Ennis.

Tapi terkadang ya, promosinya itu sampai di tahap gengges aja gitu buatku. Bahkan sepertinya rekan-rekan sekantornya, dan supervisorku juga, sampai took notice akan kelakuan si kucing garong ... bukan, maksudku, ya si Bapak itu.
Gila aja! Masa di kemudian hari ya, teman satu tim ku sambil senyum-senyum misterius begitu, mengusulkan diriku untuk secara khusus dihadapkan ke si Bapak ini kalau ingin mendapatkan project approval dari dirinya.

Ih, emangnya lo pikir gue apaan?!
Emang sih si Bapak itu judulnya adalah klien, tapi bukan berarti lantas situ bisa seenaknya nyodorin gue?!
And just for your information ya, gue itu selektif.
Plus, tarif gue tinggi!! (Ha! Ha! Ha! Teteubh!)

Anyway, mari kita kembali ke pokok inti perbincangan dari maksud tujuan utama disusunnya tulisan ini (belibet ngomongnya khas Pu-Ja).

Meskipun kemudian sekitar 1 tahun sudah berlalu sejak terakhir bertemu Bapak itu untuk urusan kerjaan, alias around year 2006, akhirnya aku tergoda juga buat beli DVD Brokeback Mountain (bajakan cap Ambassador, tentu saja!).
Tapi ternyata baru juga mulai nonton sedikit, ekspresi wajah berbinar si Bapak itu kembali terpampang jelas inside this picture of mind. Cengirannya yang khas sambil ngomong, ”Gimana, Mas, sudah nonton Brokeback Mountain?”
Langsung tombol Stop kutekan, lalu keping DVD di-eject dari player.
Am done with this. (And, perhaps) For good.

Bahkan ketika berita mengejutkan tentang kematian mendadak Heath Ledger tersiar ke seluruh dunia, dan semua penggemar film langsung mengenang kembali penampilan dramatis Heath di film ini, aku sama sekali tidak merasa tergelitik / terpancing buat menuntaskan menonton film western pertama Ang Lee ini.

Oho, jangan salah sangka. Am not homophobic at all. Hanya ya kembali ke soal itu tadi.
Kalau ngomongin soal Brokeback Mountain, jadi teringat lagi sama tingkah polah si Bapak itu, dan bagaimana begitu antusiasnya dia ‘berjualan’.

Barangkali, Bapak itu termasuk salah satu orang yang sangat berduka dan terpukul dengan kepergian Heath Ledger. Can’t blame him, sih. Namanya juga penggemar berat. Ya ga sih?

Eh, kebetulan malam ini lagi kosong.
Batal ketemuan dengan Bradley di Starbucks karena dia mau latihan choir dulu di St. Catherine (terus aku disuruh nunggu aja gitu? Whodoyouthinkyouwho?!).
Lagi males juga hang-out dengan Renata, Lesley, dan Fanny di Alessandro’s karena pasti nanti perbincangannya seputar le marriage, konsep yang masih jauuuuuuuhh aja gitu buatku.

Kayanya malam ini bisa nge-date dengan Michael nih? Sudah lama kubiarkan dia menunggu di kamar tanpa tersentuh sedikitpun.
Dan kalau pun mendadak malam ini masih teteup ga ada mood buat dia, ya nikmati saja penggantinya, Ian.

Yang jelas sih, I still could only wish the right time will eventually come when I really have the right mood to watch you, Jack and Ennis!


Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Apa Lagi Yang Kau Cari, Samantha?


Akhirnya Kuntilanak 3 datang juga menghampiri para pemirsa (setianya, eh?!).

Diklaim sebagai sekuel pamungkas dari kisah para pemuja kekuatan gelap dan pemelihara arwah perempuan yang mati penasaran ini, Kuntilanak 3 berhasil menakut-nakuti penonton dengan pakem khas film horor.

Benarkah demikian?
Silahkan Anda menilainya sendiri.



Film ini dibuka dengan adegan Stella (diperankan oleh Paramitha Rusady yang terlihat tetap cantik semlohei dan awet muda dengan terapi suntik botox, ehm ..., maksudnya Laudya Cinthya Bella yang entah mengapa di dalam film ini memang terlihat dan terdengar sangat mirip Mitha) bercengkerama mesra dengan tunangannya (yang bahkan di situs 21cineplex tidak mendapat credit) sembari duduk berpelukan erat di depan cahaya api unggun yang berkelebat dalam hutan lebat di tengah kegelapan rimba yang begitu pekat (rhymes! tapi untungnya tidak sedang bertelanjang bulat *wink!*).
Hanya perlu melihat beberapa detik pertama dari opening scene tersebut, penonton film horor pintar (maksud sebenarnya, penontonnya yang pintar) pasti sudah langsung tahu kalau Stella akan mati secara gory bahkan sebelum opening credit muncul.

Cara menebaknya sebenarnya cukup mudah.
Di tengah hutan lebat di daerah antah-berantah alias no man’s land di tengah malam buta yang sangat dingin (diasumsikan demikian karena si pemeran pria memakai kaos dalam, kemeja, vest DAN jaket SEKALIGUS), Stella yang selalu tersenyum manis manja group mengenakan baju terbuka dengan belahan dada terlalu rendah sehingga memamerkan (jadi bukan sekedar memperlihatkan, lho, dicatet!) cleavage-nya yang tampak begitu menggoda. Tapi ternyata tidak cukup hanya dengan tampil seksi like such biatch, Stella JUGA BERANI MELAKUKAN "tipikal kesalahan fatal yang sudah begitu klisenya karena dilakukan oleh karakter-karakter yang ditakdirkan mati mengerikan dalam film-film horor", yaitu dengan bercanda tentang nasib buruk dan kematian. Di depan tunangannya sendiri (dan seluruh pemirsa), Stella berpura-pura diserang oleh sosok tak terlihat yang mencekiknya sampai sesak napas. Detik itu juga kita mengetahui alamat nasib buruk yang mengerikan sudah pasti menanti dirinya.
Pertanyaannya bukan lagi ”mengapa Stella?”, tapi ”kapan dan bagaimana?”. Penonton ternyata memang tidak perlu menunggu terlalu lama ...

Dan tentu saja tidak perlu intelijensia tinggi untuk mencerna alur cerita film yang berdurasi kurang lebih 2 jam lebih sedikit ini. Anda cuma perlu duduk manis dan siap-siaplah untuk dikagetkan – atau lebih ekstrem lagi, sampai menjerit kencang sambil menutup mata! seperti yang dilakukan oleh teman menonton saya. Biar tidak terlalu gengsi karena dianggap penakut, tunggulah cue dari ilustrasi musik garapan Andi Rianto, yang dijamin akan sangat memudahkan para penonton untuk menebak, ”Ayo siap-siap, setannya mau keluar lagi nih!”. Lalu dengan patuhnya si setan perempuan muncul ... duengg ! *kyaa!*

Tapi kalau polanya begitu terus sepanjang film, berputar-putar tanpa logika yang jelas – kecuali untuk satu hal, bahwa jelas-jelas semua tokoh yang berseliweran berebut screen time sambil melakukan / mengatakan hal-hal bodoh (please lihat lagi sample lain untuk "tipikal kesalahan fatal yang sudah begitu klisenya karena dilakukan oleh karakter-karakter yang ditakdirkan mati mengerikan dalam film-film horor") satu-persatu akan menemui ajal secara mengerikan demi memuaskan nafsu para penontonnya akan muncratan darah atau nafsu untuk ditakut-takuti – lama-kelamaan pasti capek juga melihatnya.


Yang kemudian justru menjadi tantangan menarik bagi penonton, setidaknya bagi saya sendiri lah!, adalah untuk menerka-nerka siapa dari keempat anak muda metropolis tersebut yang akan mati duluan, kapan kejadiannya dan bagaimana atau se-gory apa adegan pencabutan nyawa mereka, dan siapa yang akan menyusul mati berikutnya di tengah pekatnya selimut misteri hutan kelam Ujung Sedo. Setidaknya bagiku, sudah ga penting lagi apakah mereka akan berhasil menemukan mayat kedua sahabat mereka yang telah hilang duluan di dalam hutan, atau setidaknya bisa apakah mereka bisa melacak jejak bekas pipis atau pup si Stella dan tunangannya yang bodoh itu (ya iyalah! di dalam hutan seperti itu kan ga ada jamban!).

Dan begitu penonton berhenti mengkhawatirkan takdir mengerikan apa yang mengintai keempat sahabat dari balik rimbunnya pepohonan, rasanya tidak ada alasan lagi untuk juga peduli pada apa lagi yang bakal dialami Samantha (diperankan kembali untuk ketiga kalinya oleh Julie Estelle). Kalau dia bisa menemukan jalannya sendiri menuju hutan Ujung Sedo, dan kalau dia bisa menemukan gua menyeramkan itu hanya dengan mengandalkan intuisi, rasanya akan lebih baik kalau saja Samantha meninggalkan keempat sahabat tersebut dan tidak melibatkan mereka dalam petualangan yang sejak awal sudah kental bau darah ini. Toh begitu dia berhasil melepaskan diri dari keresehan dan kebodohan keempat sahabat itu, Samantha bisa dengan cepatnya menemukan dan lantas berhadapan langsung dengan sumber dari segala sumber rangkaian malapetaka yang bertubi-tubi menimpa dirinya tersebut, which happened in one of the technically best horror scenes ever graced Indonesian cinema.


However, kudos pantas diberikan untuk aspek-aspek teknis Kuntilanak 3 yang sangat berhasil membangun atmosfer ketegangan yang menakutkan, khususnya di beberapa adegan horor klimaks yang kelas dan kualitasnya jelas-jelas sekian tingkat di atas beberapa rilisan film horor Indonesia belakangan ini (am pointing at the legendary comeback of The Indonesia Queen of Horror, Suzanna. Such a shameful return, Ma’am).

Friday, May 23, 2008

The Constant Gardener: Reviewed.




It was said that, from the onset of the first pages of John le Carré’s The Constant Gardener, experienced readers would know that they are in the familiar and always capable hands of le Carré. But being a new kid in the vast knowledgeable creative mind of Mr. le Carré’s, I tend to sort of making this one particular novel as my introduction to his many works. The reason why I chose The Constant Gardener which got mixed reviews was that I was very much impressed when watching the movie adaptation back in 2005, my last ‘date’ with Nina before she went on and married to another fellow M.D. and moved out of this country. But that, of course, is a wholly irrelevant story.

The Constant Gardener begins with a crisis when news of the violent murder of Tessa Quayle, a young and beautiful white relief worker in East Africa, reaches the assorted bureaucrats and spies who populate the British High Commission in Nairobi, Kenya, where Tessa’s husband, Justin, works as midlevel diplomat.

At first, her death appears to be one of those embarrassing incidents that governments involved, especially the British, hate to have happen in foreign countries. It’s scandalous. Just like the death of former British Airways’ cabin crew Lucie Blackman. Even though of course, Ms. Blackman was actually a real-life person.

Tessa was known for her radical views and involuntariness to muffle her idealism and outspokenness. At the time of her tragic death, while she was up-country near the boundary with Sudan, she had been traveling with a handsome black Congolese-descendant Belgian-citizen doctor who was widely assumed to be her secret lover, and who has inexplicably vanished from the jeep in which her naked, beaten and severed body was found.

Justin Quayle, her husband, an efficient, very polite and by-the-book Englishman then returns to Britain, looking to all the world like a beaten-down loser, a gray man who has been effectively widowed twice, the first time when he lost his wife's love and was too polite, and repressed, to understand why or even to admit it.

But this is le Carré, who oftentimes compared with Tom Clancy, and of course his readers should expect more of things to come. And their expectations, of course, contented. Things were really not as they seemed to be.

For Justin Quayle, of whom the title character – the constant gardener – derived from, it seems everything ends when he buried his wife on the graveyard near Kibera slum.

It turns out; this is actually the part where le Carré shifts this novel’s perspective, from Sandy Woodrow’s, the head of the chancery, to Justin, the first secretary cum gardening aficionado, just after about a hundred or so pages. For impatient readers, they’d probably stop reading this novel already. Their loss.

As controversies begin to loom about what Tessa was actually doing exactly in Nairobi, and how it fits in with a powerful pharmaceutical company heavily connected to a number of overtly and covertly corrupt governments in Africa and the West, Justin went AWOL from Her Majesty’s Foreign Service, defied his old-fashioned Etonian background and eventually goes on a crusade in such chivalrous quest for the truth, also to avenge his wife’s death.

This novel is dense and finely plotted and nourished with examinations of how things like loyalty, honesty, self-preservation, and memory, can become murkier the deeper you get entangled in something bigger than yourself. This was clearly depicted in the character of Sandy Woodrow, whom loyalties conflicted as the plot entwined yet unraveled at the same time. It also holds its own because of John le Carré’s deeply felt assurance and passion about the sins perpetrated by drug companies on developing countries.

However, the biggest significant problem about The Constant Gardener is that le Carré gives his game away too early. Somewhere in the first third part, the mystery surrounding Tessa’s death is solved. So does other related mysteries: the death and disappearance of the poor African woman and her brother whom Tessa befriended, the three white doctors in the maternity clinic, even the identity of the bad guys and their collaborators. Those, of course, immediately rob the rest of the book from the sort of suspense that can make this work, otherwise, so masterful. It is never a moment in this novel where its reader learns something that wholly changes the course of the book and quite literally takes their breaths away.

And as the last (random) thought, being a self-proclaimed kitschy sentimental person, I found the ending was as much heartbreaking as it was almost unbearably moving. The kind of ending that will leave you astounded. Guaranteed.


Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Beauty Gives You ...



Superpower.

At least that is what a self-acclaimed beauty soap claimed in their current multi-billion Rupiah multi-media mega-campaign, which translates into giant billboards in protocol streets throughout Indonesia, commercial ads on every major TV stations and radio syndicates, not to mention gracing all important magazines and tabloids.

Which I, in my humble opinion, think is a much overstated slogan.
Geez, by doing background reality checks of the so called beauty icons’ the soap promoting, even with the help of such bombastic tagline and the obviously expensive ad, am wondering who will really buy that “superpower” imagery?

I strongly suggest for those people behind that self-acclaimed beauty soap brand – even if they say they do have their own rationale on using the “superpower” label – to rethink of their current slogan.

Beauty doesn't necessarily give you superpower.

It gives you a more humane face.
Just like the rest of us.





* * *
Original format of "Beauty Gives You ..." was posted online on Thursday, 14 September, 2006.
This piece above has gone through a heavily editing process to avoid certain implication(s) in later days.

Monday, May 19, 2008

Please, Sir, I Don't Understand Your English



what have I done to have been given children like these Benjamin was punishment enough and now for her to have no more regard for me her own mother I’ve suffered for her dreamed and planned and sacrificed I went down into the valley yet never since she opened her eyes has she given me one unselfish thought at times I look at her I wonder if she can be my child except Jason he has never given me one moment’s sorrow since I first held him in my arms I knew then that he was to be my joy and my salvation I thought that Benjamin was punishment enough for any sins I have committed I thought he was my punishment for putting aside my pride and marrying a man who held himself above me I don’t complain I loved him above all of them because of it because my duty though Jason pulling at my heart all the while but I see now that I have not suffered enough I see now that I must pay for your sins as well as mine what have you done what sins have your high and mighty people visited upon me but you’ll take up for them you always have found excuses for your own blood only Jason can do wrong because he is more Bascomb than Compson while your own daughter my little daughter my baby girl she is she is no better than that when I was a girl I was unfortunate I was only a Bascomb I was taught that there is no half-way ground that a woman is either a lady or not but I never dreamed when I held her in my arms that any daughter of mine could let herself don’t you know I can look at her eyes and tell you may think she’d tell you but she doesn’t tell things she is secretive you don’t know her I know things she’s done that I’d die before I’d have you know that’s it go on criticize Jason accuse me of setting him to watch her as if it were a crime while your own daughter can I know you don’t love him that you wish to believe faults against him you never have yes ridicule him as you always have Maury you cannot hurt me any more than your children already have and then I’ll be gone and Jason with no one to love him shield him from this I look at him every day dreading to see this Compson blood beginning to show in him at last with his sister slipping out to see what do you call it then have you ever laid eyes on him will you even let me try to find out who he is it’s not for myself I couldn’t bear to see him it’s for your sake to protect you but who can fight against bad blood you won’t let me try we are to sit back with our hands folded while she not only drags your name in the dirt but corrupts the very air your children breathe Jason you must let me go away I cannot stand it let me have Jason and you keep the others they’re not my flesh and blood like he is strangers nothing of mine and I am afraid of them I can take Jason and go where we are not known I’ll go down on my knees and pray for the absolution of my sins that he may escape this curse try to forget that the others ever were



No, I was not mumbling up there.

And for your information, it was not actually mine either.
The so-called mumbling above originally comes from William Faulkner’s The Sound and The Fury.
And yes, that passage above was coming from inside the mind of a particular character, of whom I can barely recall now.

All I wanted to convey is that if you have trouble in understanding the above passage and subsequently failed to finish reading it, so did I.
And it turned out, so did with many others, which are actually Mr. Faulkner’s fellow American writers.

And they said once that Ulysses written by James Joyce was one of the toughest read in the history of modern English literature. D’oh!

Friday, May 16, 2008

"Kueh Nastar Paling Enak di Kampung Sini"



"Terimakasih, sudah kenyang!", "Terimakasih, sudah kenyang!", demikianlah ucapan tersebut terdengar berulang-ulang dalam iklan margarin Blue Band versi Lebaran tahun ini. Adegannya memperlihatkan satu keluarga kecil yang terdiri dari ayah-ibu dan seorang anak lelaki kecil yang setiap kali ditawari makanan ringan dalam kunjungan silaturahmi Lebaran mereka selalu menolak dengan halus.

Kenapa eh kenapa, mereka selalu menolak tawaran makanan ringan itu? batinku memprotes.

Sebel banget, sementara tahun ini aku kan ga bisa berlebaran ke rumah siapapun, jadi ga bisa makan ketupat dan opor ayam, apalagi makan kueh-kueh kering berkalori tinggi favoritku!

Menu sehari-hariku saat libur Lebaran ini ya hanya berupa camilan ringan biskuit atau menu khas a la mahasiswa ngekost. Don't bother to tell, I know you can easily guess :-p

Eh, pas lagi pencet-pencet remote TV, kebetulan pas lagi ada Bajaj Bajuri. Episode spesial Lebaran.

Momennya pas banget kali ya. Jadinya malah teringat waktu menghabiskan tiga akhir pekan pertama bulan Ramadhan bersama Billy. Kita selalu berbuka bersama – meskipun aku tidak berpuasa – dengan makan kolak pisang buatannya sendiri sambil tertawa bersama melihat tingkah polah kocak dan kekonyolan khas sinetron Bajuri.
Sebenarnya kolak buatan Billy tidak pernah stabil rasanya. Kadang kala terlalu manis, terkadang nyaris hambar, karena saat mengolahnya, Billy selalu meminta aku yang mencicipinya. Semua masakannya saat aku di situ memang disesuaikan dengan seleraku. Dan “masalah”-nya, aku sendiri tidak pernah bisa yakin 100% dengan kemampuan indra pengecapku. Ha!
Yang pasti, rasa masakan Billy tidak boleh terlalu asin karena nanti bisa membuat aku minum terus sampai kembung untuk hilangkan rasa kering di lidah yang kemudian bisa mengakibatkan aku bolak-balik ke toilet dan mungkin akan mengganggu tidurnya pada malam harinya.
Tidak boleh juga terlalu manis karena sesudah menyantapnya aku akan menjadi hiperaktif, atau yang lebih parah, membuatku mengantuk dan tertidur hanya setengah jam setelah makan.
Apapun masakannya, tidak boleh terasa pedas, karena memang Billy tidak tahan rasa pedas (yang sebenarnya membuatku heran bagaimana cara dia waktu itu bisa bertahan hidup di India selama setahun dan kemudian di Meksiko selama nyaris 6 bulan).

Namun karena aku sudah hampir setahun ini selalu menghindari konsumsi gula, lidahku pun sudah beradaptasi untuk mengecap semua makanan bergula sebagai 'terlalu manis'.
Jadi ketika aku melihat perubahan ekspresi wajah Billy setelah menyuapkan sendok pertama kolak tersebut ke dalam mulutnya, saat itu juga aku sadar ada yang keliru dengan rasanya.
Kumasukkan suapan pertama ke dalam mulutku. Hmmm, memang tidak manis, kolak tanpa jejak rasa gula.
Aku langsung merasa malu dan meminta maaf, tapi dengan tersenyum manis Billy menghiburku, ga apa-apa kok, katanya, emang ga baik juga kalau mengkonsumsi terlalu banyak gula. Toh aku juga sudah siapkan teh manis untuk kita, katanya untuk menghiburku.
Lalu dia berjalan ke meja dapur dan mengambil dua buah mug berisikan teh dilmah yang masih mengepulkan asap, dan memberikan satu padaku.

Sudah pas kan manisnya rasa teh ini? tanya Billy. Sudah kok, jawabku. Sudah pas manisnya semanis senyum kamu.
Kulihat Billy jadi tersenyum malu. Kamu itu ya, suka banget menggoda aku, protesnya.
Melihat ekspresi malu-malu di wajahnya, aku cuma tertawa ha ha ha … namun saat itu pikiranku melayang pada Bradley yang pernah beberapa kali 'menuduhku' sebagai seorang "lelaki penggoda profesional". Atau bahkan, terkadang tanpa menyadarinya, sinyal-sinyal yang dipancarkan oleh gerakan tubuh dan ekspresi wajahku seakan menggoda lawan bicaraku. Tapi itu kata Bradley, yang meskipun merupakan salah satu sahabatku, terkadang ucapannya tidak bisa diandalkan.

Kembali ke cerita Bajaj Bajuri episode spesial Lebaran, Said dan Ucup yang ingin wisata boga selama Lebaran memutuskan mendatangi rumah Mpok Minah terlebih dahulu dalam rangkaian 'tur' mereka. Alasan utama mereka berdua sangatlah sederhana.
Lo kan tau sendiri, Cup, demikian Said, kalo kue nastarnya mpok Minah itu udah terkenal paling enak di kampung sini!
Lalu pergilah mereka berdua untuk berlebaran ke rumah Mpok Minah, dan kekocakan pun terjadi saat Said dan Ucup rebutan menghabiskan isi stoples kue nastar, sembari berpura-pura bersalaman dengan Mpok Minah untuk meminta maaf.

Kamu lg dmn &ngaps? Aku lg nontn Bajuri, crtny Said&Ucup rbutan nastar. Jd pengen nastar jg, tp lg ga ada yg bisa kukunjungi skrg. Kangen. [Message sent to Billy. Message delivered to Billy]

Mudah-mudahan KartuHalo-nya diaktifkan untuk roaming internasional, pikirku.
Semoga SMS-ku diterima Billy yang tentunya saat ini sedang berkumpul bersama keluarga besarnya di Penang, kepulangannya ke rumah orangtuanya untuk pertamakalinya setelah ayahnya meninggal empat tahun lalu.

[1 new message received]
Me 2. Ada nastar kok d rmh. Nxt wiken kamu datang yah. Hugz.

Aku tersenyum lebar. Billy juga tidak terlalu menggemari makanan ringan yang manis-manis. Merusak gigi, katanya. Selain itu dia berusaha untuk tidak menambah besar lingkar pinggangnya, dan itu artinya cuma satu: diet. Plus dia selalu senang jika melihat aku makan dengan lahap. Itu artinya, dia pasti akan membiarkan aku menghabiskan nastar miliknya. Hehehe …

"Terimakasih, sudah kenyang!" Ah, iklan itu lagi. Namun kali ini perhatianku tertuju pada bentuk-bentuk lucu kue kering yang terpampang di layar kaca. Ada yang berbentuk bintang, ada yang menyerupai bulan sabit.
Tapi tidak ada kue ulat, batinku sambil kembali tersenyum lebar.

Biasanya kue ulat favoritku dan saudaraku Matt baru tersedia di rumah dua minggu menjelang Natal. Ketika masih duduk di sekolah dasar, kami berdua selalu tidak sabar menanti datangnya Natal dan Tahun Baru, karena itu artinya datangnya masa-masa istimewa, bisa makan enak dan banyak.

Bolu sarang lebah. Lontong sayur. Agar-agar pelangi. Bolu pandan. Ayam kampung panggang.
Makanan yang sepertinya kini tampak sederhana namun di kala itu terasa begitu istimewa, karena memang hanya dihidangkan pada saat-saat istimewa bersama seluruh anggota keluarga.

Waktu itu menjelang akhir dekade 1980-an. Saat itu anggota keluarga kami masih lengkap dan punya tradisi untuk selalu berkumpul bersama di rumah menjelang Natal. Biasanya aku dan Matt dibiarkan Ibu bermain-main apa saja yang sedang kami ingin mainkan, dan biasanya kami bermain perang-perangan bersama anak-anak sekompleks. Sesekali ketika mulai merasa haus, aku atau Matt menyelinap masuk ke dapur untuk minum, sembari mata kami sibuk mencari-cari benda apa saja yang bisa dimakan.
Jika kami sedang beruntung, di atas meja di dalam loyang masih tersusun kueh-kueh kering yang baru selesai dipanggang. Biasanya kalau sudah melihat pajangan itu, aku dan Matt akan mencoba mengambil kueh-kueh tersebut langsung dari loyangnya, yang seringkali masih panas karena baru saja dikeluarkan dari dalam oven. Saat itu rasanya risiko jari melepuh sebanding dengan kenikmatan sepotong kueh kering.

Dan seperti biasanya salah-satu kakak atau malah Ibuku akan mengusir kami keluar dari dapur, memukul pelan tangan kami yang terulur meraup setumpuk kueh jika sempat, atau jika sedang tidak terlalu repot karena semua adonan kueh hari itu sudah selesai atau sedang dipanggang dan apabila sedang berbaik hati, kami akan diberi masing-masing dua potong kueh kering.
Bentuknya macam-macam dan lucu-lucu, tapi favoritku saat itu adalah kueh yang bentuknya memanjang dan seperti berbuku-buku, persis seperti keluarga ulat-ulatan yang pernah kami lihat dari siaran dokumenter TV2 Malaysia. Ulat putih yang lucu dan merayap di atas daun.

Aku tidak ingat lagi siapa di antara kami berdua yang memiliki ide cemerlang dan membaptiskan kueh berbentuk panjang berbuku-buku itu dengan nama yang tidak lazim, namun sejak saat itu kueh kering tersebut di keluarga kami dikenal sebagai kueh ulat.

Biasanya pada minggu-minggu awal bulan Januari ketika hendak memulai pelajaran agama, aku dan Matt berangkat ke sekolah sambil membawa bekal kueh-kueh dari rumah. Karena Ibuku memang gemar memasak dan saat itu beliau masih memiliki banyak "tenaga ahli" (yaitu, kakak-kakakku) yang siap membantunya di dapur, kami berdualah yang biasanya membawa kueh paling banyak dan paling beragam ke sekolah.
Sebelum pelajaran agama dimulai dengan menyanyikan lagu pujian dan doa pembuka, kami melakukan pertukaran kueh-kueh yang dibawa dengan sesama teman. Saling mencicipi dan mengomentari. Jika ada teman yang membawa kueh kering yang ternyata dibeli dari pasar swalayan dan bukan dibuat sendiri oleh keluarganya, biasanya kueh bawaannyalah yang paling terakhir habis.

Dengan sedikit senang dan bangga aku mengeluarkan sebungkus kueh kering dengan bentuk-bentuk lucu. Malam sebelumnya aku sudah berpesan kepada kakakku yang membantu membungkuskan kueh-kueh itu agar memasukkan lebih sedikit kueh ulat daripada kueh-kueh bentuk lainnya.
Ah, ini semua kan sama saja, demikian kata kakakku saat itu. Tapi aku tidak percaya dan bersikeras bahwa beda bentuknya berarti beda pula rasanya. Lalu bungkusan kueh kering bawaanku mulai kuedarkan berkeliling.

Ah, kebanyakan kue semprit, protes Robin sambil tangannya merogoh kantung kuehku dan mengambil kueh ananas.

Iya nih, semprit semua, sambung Jim, namun tangannya tetap masuk ke kantung dan meraup segenggam kueh kering plus dua potong bolu.

Kok kalian menyebutnya kueh semprit? tanyaku polos.

Iya, soalnya biarpun bentuknya macam-macam, kan semuanya dibuat dari satu adonan yang sama saja, jawab Jim si gembul sambil mulutnya sibuk mengunyah-ngunyah.

Sebenarnya bukan jawaban yang sesuai untuk pertanyaan yang aku ajukan, namun pada saat itu pikiranku tertuju pada potongan informasi yang baru saja kudapatkan.
Satu adonan yang sama? Ah, masa sih?

Sorenya sepulang sekolah, aku mencari Ibuku yang saat itu sedang berada di dapur sibuk menyiapkan makan malam.
Masih kuingat saat itu kulihat matanya tampak merah seperti habis menangis, namun aku menyangka matanya perih karena terkena asap dari wajan penggorengan.

Tadi temanku bilang kueh ulat dan kueh-kueh lainnya itu sebenarnya namanya kueh semprit. Masa bentuknya macam-macam tapi namanya sama? Kok bisa? tanyaku.

Dengan tersenyum manis, jenis senyuman yang di kemudian hari secara otomatis cenderung akan kita tiru dari orang-orang yang telah lebih dulu dewasa daripada kita, yang kemudian pada gilirannya terbiasa kita perlihatkan jika mendapatkan pertanyaan polos dan lucu dari seorang anak kecil, ibuku menjelaskan bahwa semua kueh yang berbeda-beda bentuknya itu sebenarnya memang hanya dari satu jenis adonan, karena memang bahan pembuatnya sama saja.

Jadi meskipun kamu lebih menyukai kueh ulat karena bentuknya yang lucu dan lebih menarik daripada bentuk kueh kering lainnya, tapi sebenarnya mereka semua sama saja karena memang terbuat dari bahan yang sama, jadilah mereka sama-sama kueh semprit. Tapi bukan namanya yang menjadi masalah sekarang, karena yang paling penting, rasa kuehnya enak dan kamu suka memakannya, demikian Ibuku mencoba memberikan penjelasan paling sederhana yang paling gampang dipahami oleh seorang bocah berusia tujuh tahun.

Lalu lanjutnya, Itu kurang-lebih sama seperti kamu dan Matt. Kalian berdua sama-sama anak lelakiku. Wajah kalian berbeda dan nama kalian pun berbeda. Tapi kalian berdua sama-sama dibuat Tuhan dari bahan yang sama dan diberikan kepada aku dan Bapakmu beberapa tahun lalu untuk dibesarkan dengan penuh kasih-sayang dan cinta.

Saat menjelaskan hal tersebut, Ibuku telah berlutut di hadapanku dan sambil menatapku melanjutkan penjelasannya, Dan karena kalian berdua sebenarnya sama, tidak ada satupun yang lebih disukai daripada yang lain. Kalian berdua sama-sama anak lelaki yang sangat aku sayangi, lalu ibuku meraih tubuhku dan membawanya ke dalam pelukannya yang selalu terasa hangat, nyaman dan menentramkan, dan diapun menangis.

Aku tidak pernah menyangka pertanyaan sepele tentang kueh kering bisa membuat seseorang begitu terharu hingga menitikkan air mata, namun saat itu aku merasa sangat menyesal mengajukan pertanyaan bodoh yang ternyata mampu melukai perasaan seseorang yang sangat aku kasihi, terlebih orang itu adalah Ibuku sendiri.

Namun sama seperti kesalahpahamanku tentang kueh kering itu, ternyata aku sudah keliru mengartikan tangisan Ibu.

Sore itu Bapak pulang dari kantor lebih cepat dari biasanya. Awalnya aku dan Matt merasa senang melihatnya sudah ada di rumah bahkan sebelum berita sore tayang di TV. Namun melihat ekspresi wajahnya, ditambah dengan semua gerakannya yang serba tergesa-gesa, belum lagi nada bicaranya yang jadi jauh lebih cepat daripada biasa, kami berdua tahu ada sesuatu yang tidak pada tempatnya.
Aku dan Matt sempat merasa resah. Jangan-jangan ada kesalahan yang tanpa kami sadari telah kami perbuat. Tapi kok ya, kami belum juga dipanggil dan disuruh berdiri di hadapan Bapak dan Ibu? Ini benar-benar sesuatu yang tidak biasa.

Yang terjadi malah aku dan Matt disuruh menonton TV saja dan bukannya mengerjakan pe-er seperti kebiasaan kami setelah bangun dari tidur siang, sambil ditemani oleh salah seorang kakakku.

Malam harinya barulah kuketahui alasan sebenarnya, setelah salah satu Tante kami datang ke rumah untuk mengawasi aku dan Matt. Betul sekali, aku menolak menyebutnya sebagai baby sitter karena implikasi kata bayi padaku yang sudah berumur tujuh tahun terasa merendahkan dan memalukan.
Tante memberitahu kami berdua saat kamu sudah berada di dalam kamar dan bersiap untuk tidur, bahwa ibu dari Ibuku, yaitu nenekku yang tidak pernah aku kenal dan rasanya memang tidak pernah kutemui sebelumnya, telah meninggal dunia pagi itu.
Dan keberadaan si Tante yang baru tiba itu tidak lain dan tidak bukan adalah karena dia akan bertugas sebagai pengawas dan wali kami selama kepergian kedua orangtuaku.
Sementara itu Bapak dan Ibu harus bergegas mengejar bis antarpropinsi yang berangkat malam itu menuju kota kecil tempat kelahiran Ibu, karena memang dari kota kami ke sana butuh waktu dua malam perjalanan dengan bis. Mereka akan pergi selama kurang-lebih seminggu. Sepanjang ingatanku, inilah kali pertama mereka berdua pergi meninggalkan kami anak-anaknya untuk waktu yang cukup lama.
Saat itu, begitu mengetahui kondisi yang akan kami hadapi selama satu minggu yang akan datang tersebut, aku mulai menangis, sedemikian keras sehingga harus dibujuk oleh Ibu. Dengan kata-kata lembut dia coba yakinkan kami berdua bahwa kepergian mereka kali ini bukanlah untuk bersenang-senang, namun situasilah yang mengkondisikannya menjadi demikian. Dan bahwa kami berdua tidak diajak serta dalam perjalanan ini karena kami harus bersekolah dan musim ujian sudah menjelang.

Hingga belasan tahun kemudian, kini ketika aku sendiri sudah hampir dua tahun tidak pernah lagi bertemu Ibu, aku masih tidak bisa melupakan saat itu ketika untuk pertama-kalinya aku melihat Ibu menangis di hadapanku.

Dan aku kira penyebabnya adalah karena pertanyaanku yang sepele tentang kueh kering berbentuk ulat.









* * *
"Kueh Nastar Paling Enak di Kampung Sini" pertama kali dipublikasikan online pada tanggal 10 November 2005. Tulisan di atas telah mengalami beberapa perubahan minor - khususnya pada pemenggalan paragraf dan penggunaan tanda baca - dari format original. Beberapa nama yang dicantumkan di atas juga telah mengalami perubahan untuk menghindari hal-hal tertentu di kemudian hari.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

By the Power of Schopenhauer


First thing first, I don't really know whether I spell the name mentioned above in the title of this writing correctly or not, or whether the name really does exist in psychology.
Noticed the name while watching the impressive La Vita é Bella, when Ferruccio explained to Guido about the power of one’s will of mind, by referring to a state of mind when a certain person can make other person do what the first person tell the other one to do (hopefully you won’t be confused with this statement, eh?).
At first I just thought Roberto Benigni made that up for his movie, but somehow it looks fun if I have the ability to do so, just like what he told his friend in such a believable way, therefore the Schopenhauer method somehow successfully clung in my mind for so long.

And so that was how I tested it by applying the so-called Schopenhauer method to the course of events that occurred over this month of June.

About a couple of weekends ago, somehow I kept thinking of my loverboy Marc Miguel Morales. He's not a real loverboy as you think he is (or was). He's just someone I befriended with for almost four years now, virtually. Oh, not the four years that's been virtual, but the friendship is.
Marc and I, we shared secrets and thoughts, even the forbidden ones. He kind of helped me with good advices on my relations with girls back then at university's years, and I helped him with problems with the guys he fell in love with. We talked about sex much, but of course with different preferences and point of interest. Or views. That depends.
Anyway, our communications were so intense but suddenly cut out the moment I started working at a TV station earlier last year. He still dropped messages once in a while but I just don't have time to reply as much as I usually did, so it made sense that the last time I heard from him was in April 2004.
Back to this story and to the early point of my writing, couple of weekends ago he suddenly burst into my mind again, and somehow it made me feel sick. Of myself by ignoring him back then. Missed him so much I decided the first thing I want to do at the office next Monday morning was to drop him a line or two.
So, it's the Monday morning and I arrived early for that matter, around 8 a.m., an hour earlier than the usual office-hours. Prepared a cup of hot chocolate and a strawberry toast beside my computer. Logged in.
And there I found in my mailbox, the sweetest name that came up into my mind the day before, Marc. My loverboy. It's like a coincidence. Smiled sheepishly and happily, suddenly I realized that it was this much how I missed him.
Boy, he desperately needs updates on my life, since he asked me whether I still meet Tora Sudiro on regular basis. He must've been thinking that I still worked in that TV station, hahaha ... Kinda feel guilt, though.
So I replied his e-mail and promised him that I'll send him a very long one that will keep him updated with my current situation.
In which I haven't done up until this moment. Maybe later.
But I feel thankful to find my loverboy again. Told me he has graduated from uni earlier this year and now searching for a job. Said he visits gym regularly and now he's starting to have six-packs. Said he's now looking for a boyfriend. Well, if he stands in front of me now, I would really like to say to him, "I'm your boyfriend! You have me all this time!" (oh, I know this kind of statement will shocked some of my friends, but I believe a few of them won't *wink!*)

Almost the same thing happened with Kiki.
While vacationing over the long weekend in Bandung which I extended until Tuesday, I suddenly thought about her and regretted myself by accidentally erased her cell number. Decided that coming Wednesday, I will launch an e-mail calling every HIlander98 to search and find any news about friends that we haven't heard of over the year before.
And there the Schopenhauer effect happened again !
While watching Mr. & Mrs. Smith at CiWalk 21 together with my nephew, suddenly my cell vibrated in my pocket. A missed-call.
I hate it when people do that. It's bugging me.
But about five minutes later my cell vibrated again and this one was a text message. Didn't recognize the number but surprised to read the sender's name. It's from Kiki !
She asked me how I am doing and where I worked now. Yes, I do miss her, because she was a friend I got quite close with back in university's years.
She was one of the Las Mujeres de Los Bordillos (free translation : the carefree girls of Los Bordillos :-D) I have mentioned in my Friendster's profile that I would like to meet, again. Glad to know that she's doing fine in Palembang.

Now, what I regretted from the Schopenhauer method is that it doesn't happened over me and Greg (with a little significant similarities with the one in Dharma & Greg), eventhough I missed the first night spent with him, talking almost about everything (well, I'm not into his admiration of Punjabi's soap operas' stars and his unfinished grumbling on how I ruined his diet by making him drink a glass of iced chocolate after 9 p.m.), looking eagerly forward for repetitions.
Nor with "the SexxxY BeasT" (I have to drop a message before he give me a call, that selfish prick!) who can easily make my heart (and meat :-D) throbbed.
Nor with Charlie whom reminds me of a Chinese version of Jason Tedjasukmana. What is he doing Down Under while he has many guys who love him so much back here in J-town ?
Was it because somehow in which I did not really understand the rationale, the nature – and therefore, my will of mind – forbid me in getting in touch again with those guys?

Or perhaps, I must try harder to concentrate on the Schopenhauer thing ...

Come again, what was Guido's friend advised him to do to Schopenhauer-ing easier?
Was it by flapping fingers? Or mumbling the name? Hmm ...

Let me try : Schopenhauer, Schopenhauer, Schopenhauer, ...














Note from writer:
The original version of By The Power of Schopenhauer was posted online in my first blog, LoveHateDreamsLifeWorkPlayFriendshipSex, on June 22nd, 2005.
Hardly I had known back then that Arthur Schopenhauer and his metaphysical theory really did exist in history as a critique to Immanuel Kant’s theory.
This version you just finished reading is mostly based on the original version with some minor alterations, notably dictions and inter-paragraphs fragmentations.

Friday, May 9, 2008

I Heart Starbucks (for sentimental reasons)



Somehow, Starbucks with its many stores have been some kind of private milestone to me – though milestone perhaps is a too strong word to be applied here. It’s because I remember things – special events and particular people – by associating them with any Starbucks store where the said events occurred.

It was a hot evening in June when I met Charles at Starbucks Plaza Semanggi.
He sipped on his cup of espresso while we talked practically about everything for hours, from the coming presidential election to Delon’s phenomenon on the first season of Indonesian Idol to a House of Sand and Fog, a critically-acclaimed film about the tragic life of an Iranian-migrant family living in the U.S. who tried to survive from bits and scraps.
That was when I fell in love with his pair of beautiful eyes and his brilliant mind, such an intelligent guy who at the age of 23, is pursuing his PhD degree on Southeast Asian politics. We met another couple of times, usually at the same Starbucks store until it’s time for him to go back to Australia.
It was in January, the night before my 25th birthday. Before he left, we hugged warmly in front of the same Starbucks that last night he was in town, while the sound-system from a nearby café blared Glenn Fredly’s Januari. Now come to think of it, such a strangely funny coincidence it was.

It was quite a cold November night when I met Renee for the last time at Starbucks CiWalk.
“I’m really sorry,” she said. “But my parents want me to continue my study in The Hague. My aunt has prepared all my needs there. She’s been living in Netherlands with her husband for almost five years now. Well, at least I’ll be safe in trusted hands.”
I remembered looking outside from the wide windows when she told me this, drops of rain blurred my view to the emptied car park.
“That’s alright. It’s for your own good,” I told her while reaching for her hands and holding them in mine, gave her my warmest smile and firmest assurance. “Beside, this is exactly what you’ve been dreaming of, isn’t it? And you surely wouldn’t want to refuse this scholarship. Better not to. You don’t know when you’re gonna get another offer.”
She smiled faintly. “Thanks. I really need your full support on this. I’m glad that you agreed with my decision.”
It has almost been a year now, she promised to return on this year’s Christmas holiday.

I was sipping my caramel frappuccino when Nino and Adrian, sitting side-by-side in front of me, their ice-blended coffees haven’t been touched, broke the surprising news, “We’re engaged now. You’re the first to know this.”
Surprised, I almost spilled out everything from inside my mouth as if I was swallowing some very hot beverage. Looking around us inside this Starbucks CiToS, somehow I found it as quite a relief that nobody seemed to listen to us.
“But …, how come? I mean, when? Would you tell your parents about this? Have you taken this into fully consideration? And would you guys get married? Where? In Finland? Norway? Or the Netherlands? I don’t think you guys ever will. I mean, geez …, that’s such a very big step!”
I have to pause a moment to take a deep breath. Somehow I just couldn’t refrained myself from asking and commenting on that surprising news.
Adrian gave a hearty laugh, “Relax, dude! It’s not that easy to get married with my boyfriend here, not even in those more liberal Europe countries. Beside, this is some kind of our act of passion. I love this amazing guy so much I don’t think I could live without him.”
I didn’t know what to say to them back then, so I just smiled. This happened last August, and it seemed that Nino and Adrian are the happiest dating couple I’ve known today.

I lost my Paris Hilton’s cellular-phone – the type she used in her debut feature film, House of Wax – on my way to meet William at Starbucks Taman Anggrek a week before last year’s Idul Fitri. It was my first experience on being a victim of J-town infamous criminal acts while traveling in a mean of mass-transportation, namely ‘Bis Patas AC’, and I still remember the anger I felt that day my hand shook while griping my iced cappuccino.

It was on Starbucks Trans TV when I first met Happy Salma in person and chatted a bit with her, an actress I respected for her admiration for Pramoedya Ananta Toer’s great works of writing. Most guys consider her sexiness as her most valuable quality, averting their mind from the fact that she actually has a smart brain to accompany her radiant sex appeal.

Starbucks Skyline Building is my top-priority choice for a meeting point when having late-night appointments. It was also the place where I accidentally dropped my tall-sized latte on my new chinos, and where my good friend Barry introduced me to his new girlfriend whom happened to be my first cousin’s ex-fiancé. Two such awkward moments I would really like to forget.

But my most favorite Starbucks store is the one at Sogo Plaza Senayan. It was where I spent hours chit-chatting with my best girl-friend Cindy, in our monthly ritual since the last quarter of 2004. We talked and laughed a lot, shared our moments of ups-and-downs (where she shown me her custom-made engagement ring by Tiffany, w-o-w!!), and promised to keep contact and still be good friends, like forever, even and especially after she left Indonesia for good.
By the time you read this, she’ll probably studying inside her classroom in campus, working her way for an MBA degree, or taking a good walk around her neighborhood, or entertaining some guests over dinner with her husband in their apartment in Gröningen.
I certainly missed spending times with Cindy and hoping that I will find someone new and as merry and enjoyable as her to accompany me in occupying the big bulky couch on the far side corner of that Starbucks store.

I don’t really care whether this story will win me any prize, since I just want to share what does Starbucks means to me, to the people who brought Starbucks into Indonesia, and into my life. And now that you’ve done reading, you know how I will cherish my bittersweet private memories with Starbucks, ... like, forever in my mind.

Monday, May 5, 2008

Where Have All The Women Gone?


The most anticipated movie of the year left not much to admire.
In fact it was a big setback for human actors, and it became a HUGE one for actresses.



So much attention was given to the second installment of George Lucas famous second trilogy, Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones. Even when the first prequel was still showing in cinemas across the U.S. back in 1999, Star Wars freaks, geeks and other devoted fans already raised questions concerning the fate of main characters and guessing what will happen next to them. Talks around Episode II heated up when Mr. Lucas and the boys from *NSYNC announced that this robotic-style-danced boyband is going to appear as Jedi masters who will soon-to-be-killed in the climax battle scenes as the Republic attack the separatists.
Anyway, it’s such a wise decision that the plan was soon abandoned, because if it didn’t, maybe we would hear certain song, like “I Drive Myself Crazy” as the soundtrack for the scene when Padmé Amidala and Anakin Skywalker romancing in the wild by rolling on the green grass *sic!*, the scene that so much identical with Bollywood’s.

Comparing to last year biggest bomb-buster, Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within, it’s a little bit strange that none of the Hollywood people complaining about this second episode of Star Wars.
Well, yes, the first one need no human actors – in flesh – to act while the latter has some, but if you were brave enough to try counting the characters (including those tens of thousands of clones), you’ll surely find out that there are more computer-generated-actors than real human-actor featured in this Star Wars movie alone, way too many compared to The Spirits Within.
But we heard nothing from those big actors and actresses, including from the so vocal guy Tom Hanks whom last year gave his word not to let his children watch The Spirits Within as boycott against movie production that could tear down their market shares (i.e. their multi-million dollar salaries).
So there and then the first fantasy ended as the final one. But then this year saw Mr. Lucas hitting big screens around the globe with his another fantasy-comes-true in digital pictures.

Everyone who has business with and make living from Hollywood was talking about this Episode II. All the human actors were given spotlights and had craze fans cheering for them in premiere.
But if you, just like I did, gave an extra attention, you’d find there was only one actress with real acting role which has relevance in it.
Of course, unsurprisingly, the part went to Natalie Portman, playing the before Queen of Naboo then-turn-out-to-be a Senator, the leader of the opposition of the Republic.

Now our task is to wonder why Mr. Lucas had fewer actresses in his picture. Why didn’t he give more acting opportunities for actresses? Is he a male chauvinist? For you who have already seen the movie, let’s do a little counting. Beside Padmé Amidala (a.k.a. Natalie Portman), he only gave six (!) other actresses dialogue-lines; most of them only consist of short sentences.

The first actress appeared before our eyes were Amidala-look-a-like, a nameless female character whose only role was as to become bait. It went so effectively well in just a couple of minutes she faced her fate, killed by terrorist’s attack.*

After engaging in many conversations which occurred between Senator Amidala with all-male characters, there comes another actress whom was paid to kill Amidala while she was fast asleep. But wait! Is she a real woman?
We’ve all seen it, she was soon got killed after being caught in a fantastic chase by Obi Wan Kenobi (Ewan MacGregor) and Anakin Skywalker (Hayden Christensen), and it turned out that she was actually an alien – oops! I mean a CGI character.

The third actress who had lines was the old librarian whom Obi Wan asking questions about a certain planet that wasn’t there in the encyclopedia files. She appeared for only about two minutes and spoke some lines. A bit of importance, though.

Next talking female character was the Queen of Naboo, the successor of Amidala. In this scene, we could hear the evidence of intergalactic relations that India performed successfully. She was talking with Indian (or in general, South Asian) accent. Remember her thick consonant voice?

The actress who played Shmi Skywalker, Anakin’s dearly mother, was the next woman who spoke in this movie, but only to say short lines such as, “Ani, is that you?” and then died of pain and torture.

The last woman whom (only) had (a) line was a Jedi master which appeared in the final battle scene when a group of Jedi masters led by Yoda trying to save Amidala, Anakin, and Obi Wan from becoming feasts of (CG-) monsters. She’s tough, screaming “Hhaaiiiyyyaaahh!” while in the same time saberlighted a droid, splitted it into pieces.

We have seen three actresses who had lines died in this episode 2.
We definitely know Amidala will die in the next one.

It seemed to me that (almost?) all women characters that performed dialogues in this Star Wars saga would end up died or suffered harshly in these movies.

I thought Star Wars were not all-exclusive guys’ flick that gave opportunities only for (male-) actors. But on the other side, they were also definitely not a good way for actresses to develop their acting career either. Unless for newcomers or extras who just want to make a living in Hollywood whom still have their chances to play in Star Wars Episode III as waitresses or inter-galactic hookers.

Did you notice it in this Attack of The Clones just like I did?
George Lucas only gave acting parts for other actresses as guests and hookers in a nightclub or waitresses accompanying Senator Amidala and the Queen of Naboo, or serving anything to talking – mostly males – characters, or simply as passer-bys whom only had to perform faces and not make any sound that could be considered as meaningful talk (even Amidala appeared once bringing a tray to serve breakfast for Anakin!).
Or maybe these actresses still have chances to show up, not to act, but to perform in fantastically made galactically produced gowns and dresses and colored faces so as to make us believe they’re not human.

So, one question lingers, is Lucas a male chauvinist?
It seemed that he constructed his Star Wars pictures not for women to act but only to make his productions not all-males starred.

Did you realize that he even gave more acting parts (and I mean more dialogues) for female-shaped CGI-characters?
It has been a couple of weeks since I saw this movie and still I’m wondering why he made them (all?) have breasts-shape on their upper part bodies?
Why should non-human female characters must have bodies similar to women’s?
Didn’t God created women special?
And because it is so, why didn’t Lucas make his non-human male characters have penises or Adam’s apples or anything else that so identical to male’s anatomy? So we could identify a non-human male character as a male not only by its deep harsh voice but also by looking at their body parts, just like the way he made his non-human female characters looks feminine by making them breasts-shape chests.

After spending two hours inside the darkened studio watching too much artificial scenes with so many computer-generated actors, there was only one thing left for me to wonder.
Up until this moment, I am still curious about this one definite question to ask Mr. George Lucas: Where have all the women (i.e. actresses) gone?

Maybe the answer is quite obvious yet still I’m trying to avoid considering it as the real one: they were attacked (and beaten up and killed) by the clones (and also by the droids and the so much non-human-characters). Sigh! ***




* Trivia: in later years, it is revealed that the actress played as the decoy of Queen Amidala was none other than Keira Knightley.






"Where Have All The Women Gone?" was originally posted online in some mailing-lists on 1 September 2002, under the title "Star Wars Episode II: Where Have All The Women Gone?". This present version above has some minor changes and trivia addition at the end of the writing.