Parachutes

I lie in bed listening for the shuffle of my father’s slippers.

Parachutes, Kelly Yang, Katherine Tegen Books 2020

Just to showcase that the element of immigration and immigrant characters can create very different stories (of course). Because this time there’s more Filipino characters (but they’re not the immigrants), but the real immigrants (although temporarily) are the so called parachutes: Asian teenagers that are dropped at prestigious American high schools so they can get an international diploma.
That was a lot of brackets used.

This is a good YA novel. It’s clearly written for a teen audience, (yet) manages to discuss subjects teenagers may experience yet know little about – sexual assault and rape, in this case. There’s even a warning about it in the front of the book, which caused me to kind-of-nervously count down to when things would happen.

That doesn’t mean that Parachutes is an after-school-special disguised as a novel: it’s the troubles of high school life, worrying about fitting in, crushes and clamouring to be older/out of there. Besides that there’s a class difference: Dani is a daughter of a single mum, working alongside her and on a scholarship, while Claire is a parachute who gets an unlimited credit card in her luggage to make sure that “she’s safe in the USA”. You read along with both of their stories.

All written super smoothly, making Parachutes a novel to stay up late for, wonder how the characters will develop further and gush about it online.

Yellow Rose

134 min.

And then there’s the last rose (although I could go looking for what other flowery shows and films Netflix has to offer, of course).

Another protagonist who wants more (music-related things) from life as well. This time she isn’t tried down by kids, but by an immigrant mother. We’re still doing country as a soundtrack, though.

Real life throws an ugly wrench in those dreams, underlining that dreaming big is harder in unwelcome surroundings (think about aliens and borders).

This rose is a bit sleeker than the previous one (maybe an UK/US difference?) but still shows that American films can be contained and without any sentimental circus to pull at your heart strings. There’s enough drama without, after all.

Poor Rosario just wants to sing and make music, and the way Eva Noblezada plays it you wish her the world. A lovely conclusion to my rose-trilogy.

Lupin

10 x 50 min.

I’ve talked before about how I like (some parts of) French cinema, but I’ve got little experience with French television. But I’ve yet to find something Omar Sy does that I don’t care about so yes, sure – I’ll watch a show based on a French gentleman thief.

The series aren’t about Arsène Lupin (the gentleman thief), they’re about Assane Diop who uses his stories as inspiration and motivation to set a wrong from the past right. But as we’re in the twenty-first century now, things go a little bit differently.

And Lupin didn’t have an ex and a child – as far as I know, or the series tell us.

It’s a fun, smooth, charming caper that sometimes even gets some comments on society in: because why is the black man in a suit more suspect than the black man in a cleaner’s overall?

It also made me want to visit all kind of spots all over France; not something that’s usually on my mind. A third part is already in the making and even though Diop can’t take on the entirety of French corruption, I’ll watch him try for at least two more parts.

Break in Case of Emergency

“It’s hard to reproduce those kind of results if — oh, sorry,” Jen said, realizing a beat too late that the rest of the room had gone quiet.

Break in Case of Emergency, Jessica Winter, HarperCollins 2016

Good gods, absolutely everything and everyone about/in this story is/are annoying. I’ll own up to my responsibility though: I borrowed a book described as a satire.

Break in Case of Emergency tries to merge two different stories, which leads to all of that annoyance. One story is about a start-up, probably the satire part. It’s about ‘feeling’, ‘expanding’, ‘dreaming’, but no-one can give the protagonist a clear assignment because that would just be limiting. The lingo used is straight out of every #GIRLBOSS/life coach-pamphlet, so well done on that. But good gods, how annoying.

The other story is the wish for a child and all the hubbub to get one if it doesn’t come naturally. Of course, stress at a weird work place doesn’t help with that, but it’s the language used that’s so confusing that it took me several chapters to even understand what was going on.

On top of all that, the protagonist has such a bad view of herself that is just plain exhausting. As a reader I can’t fight satire and drama without finding support somewhere.

Often in a story, there’s too little plot or it’s spread out too thinly. This could easily have been two novels with plenty of moments to breathe added.

The Young Pope

10 x 50 minutes

The Young Pope is één van de TV-shows in mijn Netflix-lijst waarvan ik me afvraag waarom het er in staat. Jude Law is allang niet meer aantrekkelijk, Diane Keaton steunt Woody A., en het Vaticaan? De katholieke kerk? Brrr!

Ik heb de serie in iets minder dan een maand afgekeken en ben nu bezig met het ‘vervolg’: The New Pope.

Ik vind het een snertterm, maar dit is een acteursserie. Iedereen acteert zich het snot achter de ogen (in de ogen?), en het is allemaal goed, gruwelijk, gemeen (niet goddelijk, ondanks de omgeving).

Het plot? Nieuw-verkoren (” “) paus lijkt minder makkelijk te beïnvloeden en besturen dan verwacht. Verre van zelfs, wat een vervelende man. Maar ja God’s vertegenwoordiger op aarde, dus hoe kom je daar van af? Met dat gekonkel op de achtergrond als continue stroom, zijn er ook nog aflevering-lange situaties die misschien iets van sympathie voor de paus opwekken. Maar net zo vaak juist helemaal niet.

Het is geen binge-serie: ik keek nooit meer dan één aflevering per keer – het is te taai om vlot doorheen te zoeven. En ik weet ook nog steeds niet precies waaróp ik ‘t zou aanraden (al dat acteurswerk?). Maar vermaakt heb ik mij wel.

Wild Rose

100 min.

Rose-Lyn, fresh out of lock-up, has to pick between parenthood or carrying on purchasing her dream of becoming a country singer. Two kids and a record might be an inspiration for that, or an anchor. Especially if you’re in Glasgow opposed to Nashville, and no-one there supports your dream.

What’s really good here is how genuine the struggle looks and feels. Yes, she’s being selfish in this endeavour, but there’s no other option and only because she can’t have both. Can someone help Rose-Lyn, because she can’t.

It’s a fictional story, but it feels like you’re following someone’s real story. Combine that with the fun soundtrack (again!) and you have a lovely film.

Plum Rains

Angelica was hurrying toward the crowded crosswalk, determined to get back to her elderly client Sayoko-san before the deliveryman arrived, when the view of buildings and business suits in front of her dissolved.

Plum Rains, Andromeda Romano-Lax, Soho Press 2018

Probably already this year’s winner for coolest author name, no matter if it’s her own or a pen name.

I judged this book by its cover, its title and its author name and it — didn’t necessary end badly. I don’t know if I’d recommend this, though.

At first, the story seems original. The blurb says it’s about a Philippine caretaker in Japan in the nearby future, she worries about being replaced by robots and we’re promised different moves through time across the globe.

But the women suffer. Not just regularly day to day suffering, but – without wanting to spoil – in the way women do. There’s a tiny bit of room for creating a world in which we’ll all be replaced by AI, but the rest of it is about suffering.

And I know that those stories need to be shared as well, especially with the Western audience, but I would have loved a science fiction story in which the (Asian) women aren’t just victim, caretaker, responsible and tired.

So, if you want to read it (because Japanese history, insight in life on the Philippines), you might still enjoy it if you focus on that. If you’re looking for science fiction, expect a dystopian one.

Bombay Rose

137 min.

I watched this because the animation looked lovely, and it turned out to be (it even uses different styles, and none of them the ugly Disney Pixar plastic). Good thing I didn’t watch it for the plot, because it was hard to be found. Maybe it’s a mosaic of different kinds of love? But there’s also the view from a bee?

It just shows that animation isn’t just for children. Here there’s mentions of poverty, abuse, the violence in Kashmir and the escape to a better financial life in Dubai, but also the risks that come with.

I clearly don’t know enough about Bollywood to not have expected this – I thought it was only romances and obvious heroes doing heroic things. I’m done with Indian animation for now (at least I finished this one, opposed to Punyakoti).

I did really like the soundtrack, though.

The Salt Path

There’s a sound to breaking waves when they’re close, a sound like nothing else.

The Salt Path, Raynor Winn, Penguin Random House 2019

Is this man really, really really called Moth? I mean, there’s a lot to this story about an older couple going hiking after bankruptcy and illness hit them, but why won’t anyone tell me if it’s a nick name? No-one acknowledges it as being random or quirky, the reader just has to endure a grown man, not a particularly weird grown man, being called Moth all the time!

Okay, it’s out of my system.

The Salt Path must have been welcomed by the UK Tourism Board (I’m sure such a thing exists). Even though Winn writes about plenty of hardship (in detail), I still want to do the hiking path they did, and visit plenty of the villages they did. With a bit more comfort though, that’s true.

Because, as mentioned before, for Raynor and Moth it’s a move out of desperation, not a holiday. They lose their home and work, Moth loses his health and the hike is not so much as a conscious decision as it is running away.

So, besides those descriptions of the country and the path, are there also plenty of musings on work, the future, health and family. Winn shares what life has thrown at them (a lot!), and sometimes her musings get a bit too navel-gazing, but the circumstances… you’d probably cut her some slack.

All that turns this book into some kind of saga, the Odyssey but very, very British. Maybe that’s how we should just view the decision to call a man Moth as well.

Foster

113 min.

Documentaire over Amerikaanse pleegouders en de organisatie die daar (letterlijk en figuurlijk) achter zit.

Van adoptie is veel bekend, maar ik heb het idee dat men vaak vergeet wat pleegouders en -familie allemaal doen. Nu zal het in Nederland vast wel (iets) anders zijn, maar voor iemand die wel eens in contact komt met uithuisplaatsing, ruzie met pleeggezinnen en dergelijke vond ik het interessant genoeg om over de landsgrenzen te kijken.

Mooi van deze documentaire vond ik dat de toon heel neutraal blijft (geen “alles is kut” noch “dit is werk van engelen”), en dat alle betrokkenen aan het woord komen. Organisatie, pleegouders, pleegkinderen maar ook de rechtsorganen die er mee gemoeid zijn. Het draagt allemaal bij aan het plaatje van hoeveel (mensen)werk het is.

Verschillende casussen worden gevolgd en zo kom je zonder een spectaculair hoog tempo aan bijna twee uur film.

En het klopt: het is verre van perfect, maar zeker noodzakelijk en een verbetering van de status quo. Gegoten in een interessante vorm, (ook) voor hen die er misschien nooit mee te maken zullen hebben.