Ripley: Will you listen to me, Parker? Shut up! Parker: Let's hear it. Let's hear it. Ripley: It's using the air shafts. Parker: You don't know that. Ripley: That's the only way. We'll move in pairs. We'll go step by step and cut off every bulkhead and every vent until we have it cornered. And then we'll blow it the fuck out into space! Set in an undated future, the 1979 science fiction Alien depicts the tale of a 7 member crew trapped with a barbarous Alien inside the commercial towing spaceship Nostromo. And it does it so in a most perturbing manner. The starkness of space, the gloomy atmosphere and the dark undertones all add up to a compelling movie experience. Alien begins rather slowly, but it gains significant momentum in a few scenes. Nostromo, the commercial towing spaceship of the "Mother" Corporation, is set on its return course to Earth. Upon receiving a possible distress signal from an apparently desolate planet, the 7 m...
Saw your face in the crowd the other day, I remember what you used to say, Remember those songs we used to sing, The memories of the old times still ring. The forever blinding gaze, Surrounded by the Christmas lights, And that staring endlessly, Into cold starry nights. With hand in hand, Remember that moonlight walk? The sound of outdrawn breaths? Overhearing the mute cries? Yeah! I remember you. Bounded by the silent reproach, Words sometimes sound so meek, Few unsolicited questions, And a couple of answers to seek. The time has flew, The years passed in haze, Plastic smiles that survived, Tears been long vaporized, Old memories now amaze. It's Christmas Eve, Sitting by the attic I look past the horizon, The remembrance surrounds the night, And the lights still shine so bright. On the table lay two cups of coffee, And some shear and strain, Besides rests an empty chair, And no one to brew the pain. Trains of thoughts rush by, The fondling re...
Its been a year since I began contemplating seriously about getting into a film school. A series of confusions ensured that I miss the FTII 2009 dates. The binduest of all being the fact that I had to leave my peanut salary and start with an empty bowl again. It made me think over and over. My mind almost threw my heart out of head one day until I re-read a famous advertising quote inscribed on my office wall. The one we often use to describe our profession to non advertising people, especially women as that might impress/intrigue them. Who knows? Whatever. Doesn’t matter. What matters is the quote : “ Don’t tell my mother I work in advertising. She thinks I play the piano in a whorehouse”. Wait a minute !! whorehouse. Oh yes!! thats what whorehouses (agencies) do. They hook us, enchant us and keep us shut out from the real world. If you got to find your voice and truth, you got to get out of that cushy creative department of yours. With that note I decided I have to take the plunge. ...
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