Magic Lantern Review, Issue 5

7/28/2019 Magic Lantern Review, Issue 5

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Magic Lantern Review

Issue 5

Poetry

Strawberries........1Catherine E. Bailey

Mad Dogs Act of Extended Departure......3

Jim Davis

Vicious........5Jim Davis

Queen Marie.......7Carly Steele

Close Encounter.....9Paul Bernstein

Seventh Summer.......10Brendan Sullivan

Film Noire....12Brendan Sullivan

Film AnalysisRed Cliff 2(2009), Film Review......14

Winnie Khaw

Infernal Affairs(2002), Film Review....18Winnie Khaw


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StrawberriesCatherine Bailey

The night I tried to takeyour virginity in TokyoI fed you cold strawberrieswith the anchor of my hand.

The room was masqueradedin red curtains and wet windowsand the candles sighed theirmelting into clean elastic jars.

I wanted to open youless like a present and

more like a grave robberpilfering bones.

I wanted to tell youyour cuticle moonrisesmade me long to colorevery inch of you with soot.

The opal of your face wasdivided into countries,one caught in the glib light,the other down a well.When you turned away

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I asked the berrieshow they couldbetray me.

Their taut seeded frownsand the candles yellow cacklingreminded me gentlythat you were a ghost.

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Mad Dogs Act of

Extended DepartureJim Davis

Farewell to nighttime, Sinatra, and blueberry wine.Lets give your neighbors something to talk about.

I understand the need for a hot meal, but nothing tastes good

with a burnt tongue. Can you taste the allegory?How do you find yourself

in the back of a cab at 3am with an elf on your lapkissing your mouth and ear, tasting alternatelyof brandy, nutmeg and sour nog? Aside from the SantasLittle Helper cap, could you pick her from a crowd?Probably not. Nearly dawn and I go out to the porchfor a Lucky Strike. I dont smoke but I wish I did at least then Id have an excuse for standing on the porchlistening to motors, calculating the weight of the good deedsit will take to outweigh the night prior. The priory of sion

was that a real thing? It wasntbut it seemed that way. Sangreal: Seemed real.And a radish carved to look like a rose turning outlooks instead like a fist turning in, choking itself.

Farewell to the New Year, its nearly time. Ive resignedto never be famous, eternal relevance will do.

11:00am on a Tuesdayand you wish you were a church goer cause today you doand you put whats been broken by cab fare in the basket

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and who the hell do you think youre talking to?Was it you who was speaking of sovereignty? If so, have youfound what youre after? Can you call her by name?

Can you break her into pieces on the altar?

Farewell to the good old days of nothing but future.Farewell to mad dogs moaning, small squirrels lostin streets paved with smashed-squirrels.

Another thing: Find yourself a Chicken Shawerma, shower,then go behind the dumpster and puke.

Thats it. Youve done it again. Call it a night, she saidbut you wouldnt listen. Step out on the porch for a smoke

Ahem. City, unzip your dress, Ive been waiting for you.

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ViciousJim Davis

Steve ascends the steps with strangers,descends lively. We have knowneach other for years, since halftime

of the Mundelein game, when he struck me

on the back for encouragement. Okay, I said.I was not one for words. But years have changed

the both of us. He, in the loft bathroomwith all its lavish fixtures, sniffing new zest.And, I, drinking beers in the basement with old friends

who are more or less the same.We stuff cans between leather couch cushions.The crowd tonight is buzzing

with designer women and men in expensive suit coats.We button buttons we would not usually button.We tuck in our shirts.

Ive been talking to a woman with viciouswritten in false graffiti across her blouse.An electronic remix of Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young

is thumping through the speakers. What?we keep saying. What? She sips from a cup and nods.

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I can see shes on to me. I wore my best shirt, but she knows.

She can smell the earth, she can smell the sweat.

She can smell the rain cascading on a field, the cowslying on their sides, the poignant country tang of swill

spilling through the window. She can hear the trainthat once stirred my sleep, triggering my quiet.Before she can leave I grab her arm and whisper, Please,

let me hold your hand for a moment. Let me play you

a symphony in the key of thirst, of innocence, of in-completion. Let our song wet the sordid earth.

She smokes a cigarette in the dark.She imagines how I might fit her plansas I climb over the balcony rail. I escape

through the garden, where abovethe wires cut Chicagos radiant skyline. No stars.The hedge moves. Steve groans from his belly,

calls my name as if we had not seen each other in a lifetime;as if, somehow, tonight we were entirely different people.

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Queen MarieCarly Steele

I was a wisp of a duchess in the looking glassWith macaroon lips and white hair once gold.I was pricked and pinned, and powderedLike a puppet doll of lace and grey silk,To be puffed up with fragile feathers,Praised as pink and lovely, a perfect piece of cake.

The dauphin kissed my painted cheek and wedding cakeEntered our virgin lips. We toasted crystal glassesOf champagne and crept into the bridal featheredBed, while royalty crowded at the frame of gilded gold.Our innocent bodies were cradled in sheets of silk,

My body, a creation of cream, crinoline, and powder.

Versailles wrapped in winters white powderWith parties abandoned and crumbs of cake.The frigid Austrian whispered like silk

Through the palace walls, shaking the chandeliers glass.An empty bassinet mocked me with its gleaming gold;I hid my woes in my hair with feathers.

Of peacock and down, my interest was only of feathers,Rouge, and roulette; only of parties with powderOf opium flowers. While I gambled my goldWith my ladies and lovers, I ate tarts and cakes

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Daily, to please my lips, and sipped a constant glassOf wine, to help me find happiness in my silks.

Uncontrolled conception released with blood onto silk.I heard the cries of le dauphine, with her peach fuzz feathered.Shocking sunlight gleams through the Venetian glassOnto my unkempt body, my skin ruddy without powder.Then I, the Queen, gleamed again, with corsets and colors cakedUpon my frame, touched by Midas, turned to gold.

Now, I am the queen of deficit, surrendering my gold,

My Olympic home, slips away like the silkOf the liberty flag, which spreads lies of cakeAnd of sin. My cell is hay and stone. FeathersAnd curtains lie tattered and maimed by gun powder.Versailles, destroyed, the hall of mirrors now broken glass.

The French throw coins of gold to mock my feathers,Torn silk, and my tired face with its false powderLet her eat cake, they cry, as I split like glass.

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Close EncounterPaul Bernstein

(In Steven SpielbergsClose Encounters of the Third Kind, threecharacters elude the authorities and reach the Devil's Tower. Two of

them, the hero and heroine, reach the top. The third, Larry Butler, nevermade it. This is his story)

I never thought the slowremorseless turning of the starscould wind a mired soulup root by root. Then shipscame singing out of space,me trying to catch up,a hunger for heights erupting

sharp and bright as a new toothin my minds mouth.I was invited, damn it, me,invited all the way to heaven.Then choppers came, and gas;I fell, oh how we fell,the unsuspecting hapless birds and Iout of grace into this single

sinful old unwelcome world.

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Seventh SummerBrendan Sullivan

The boy remembered his seventh summerhow pelicans haunted the bay,swooping downto snatch tiny minnowsand ghost crabs

hidden in the waves.His grandmother died in Juneold lady smell and tuberosesfilling the parlorwhere guests offered prayerscrushed tight like robins.It rained all day

God's judgmenthis mother said,her tearless face terrifyingbeneath the long black veilas her hands pushed away the coffin.

In July he went fishing,the reek of blood worms

churning his stomachwhile the boat rockedand the sun ate up the sky;the thick black of beetleschewing through his jeans

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as he pretended to flyin a plane with no wings.His father came home late August

shiny new medalsbursting holes in his chest,the shrapnel in his headlending him a stranger's voice,and promised this time would be different

But his mother stopped dancing in the gardenand took to her bed again

claiming God was now the enemyand his father talkedonly to the whiskey bottleshidden in the basementwhere the maw of early autumnsettled in like men of straw.

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Film NoireBrendan Sullivan

In my dreamsshe is a spy,long and cool,like a sleek pulp novel -Mata Hari

or someone Bette Davis playedin an old black and white movie,and she's dressedin impossibly tight taffeta -grey and smoky under starlightswinging hipsthat could shake down the world.

I see hersitting on a bar stool,sipping a sloe gin fizzwaiting for a manin a fedora to enterand make his markon the world

and her heart.He will approach her slowlyfrom behindand order what she is drinkingand let his fingers

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tapping the glassbe small talkas he takes a seat.

She will pump himfor his secrets -blue prints of soulsand lists of lost worldswhile she smokes a Sobrainein a slender ivory holder.

And he will break her codedown slowlythrough the long nightunder a ceiling fanthat makes the warm airdangerous,with deadly calmand the kind of forcethat makes her forget

to dream.

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Red Cliff 2(2009), Film

ReviewWinnie Khaw

Directed by John Woo and unprecedented as the most expensiveAsian-financed movie, Red Cliff 2(2009) is the second part of avisually stunning historical epic, adapted from a famous battle inthe Chinese historical document Records of Three Kingdoms.Woo

takes a relatively neutral stand between what would be have ZhangYimous opulent direction (as in Hero and Curse of the Golden Flower)and the grittiness common to most war films, opting instead forobvious attention to detail and sweeping long shots of armies andnavies. Featuring strong performances from Tony Leung as ZhouYu, Takeshi Kaneshiro as Zhuge Liang, Zhang Fengyi as Cao Cao,and an ethereal presence from Lin Chi-ling as Xiao Qiao, RedCliffportrays a romanticized perspective on the military strategies

in and trials of war and the stalwart warriors fighting in it.

After infiltrating the enemy camp, Sun Shangxiang (Wei Zhou)sends secret reports by pigeon to Zhuge Liang. A growing numberof Cao Caos soldiers have succumbed to a typhoid epidemic, andthe Prime Minister turns this tragedy into a war tactic, sending thedead bodies to the opposing army to infect it; the ploy is

successful, and disheartened, Liu Bei (You Yong) apparently pullshis troops out of the alliance. Zhou Yu and Zhu Liang challengeeach other in a friendly but serious fashion, the former to causethe death of Cao Caos two admirals, and the latter to obtain100,000 arrows in three daysthe loser must forfeit his head.Fortunately for their side, they both accomplish their goals.

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Knowing that Cao Cao has designs upon her, Xiao Qiao makes aninscrutable decision to help her husband by trying to persuade CaoCao to surrender his grandiose plans of attack. Ultimately, at least

for the Battle of Red Cliff, the Southlanders gain the victory, withheavy allusions to the cost in lives.

The conventions of heroic bloodshed are followed: for example,an enemy soldier becomes humanized as a simple-minded, big-hearted Cuju player dies as a casualty of the climactic battle. As isthe case in many panoramic historical epics, personal traits areoverlooked; characters are simplified and even one-dimensional,

though perhaps some are given more sympathetic andunderstandable flaws than is usual. The literarily and historicallymuch-vilified Cao Cao is shown as a highly clever, manipulativegeneral with overweening ambitions and hubris, but not necessarilyevil. Zhu Liang, played by the extraordinarily handsome Kaneshirowith an enigmatic smile throughout, is a strategic genius with noblemish; he can correctly predict the moves of the enemy. Leungas the honorable and intelligent Zhou Yu appears strangely wearywithout cause (during filming there were rumors that the actorsuffered from work-related burnout after his last movie), and whilemaintaining an appropriate screen charisma, does not transcendthe role.

Even at the beginning ofRed Cliff, the audience is given tounderstand that the nature of friendship forged by mutual respect

in those troubled times is precariously fragile; allies today maybecome foes tomorrow. Allegiances of the past do not determinethose of the future, and loyal servants of rival leaders could findeach other at sword-point. The tensions between the officers ofthe allied armies is well-depicted and comprehensible, such as thescene in which Liu Bei withdraws his troops and the remaining

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officers accuse him of selfishness, leading his blood brother tosplutter angrily against the slur. In addition, audiences of allcultures can appreciate the fight of the underdog against the

juggernaut, the seeming David against the Goliath; the eventualtriumph does not greatly diminish the engrossing tension of howsuch a victory will come to pass. Nevertheless, too frequently theso-called ingenious plans appear thinly-wrought and based onchanceZhu Liang could not possibly know that he wouldnt beshot through with arrows in the straw-covered boat. Xiao Qiaogoing to Cao Cao to plead with him seems like a foolish plan fromany angle. Cao Caos ploy of sending the dead bodies to his

enemys camp in order to spread the disease is too obvious, andyet soldiers and peasants alike fall victim to it.

Choreography director Corey Yun orchestrates the action withmagnificent skill which, along with Woos directing, gives theaudience an awed sense of the grandeur of the Red Cliffcinematicproduction. As well, in the areas of cinematography, art direction,production and costume design, visual effects, et cetera, thetouches of careful supervision are majestic. However, the rippingcloth CG transitions make for an oddly cheap feel, and the at timesoverly light-hearted musical score detracts from the intendedeffect. While the abrupt camera cuts to demonstrate thedifferences between armies and leaders are recognized, thechangeovers can be dizzying rather than efficient. The creativity ofshowing in aerial view the enormity of scope of the film by having

the white messenger dove fly from one camp to another islaudable. Typical Woo themes of melodramatic brotherhoodabound between Zhou Yu and Zhu Liangone thinks the usualguns are replaced with swords and arrowsinterspersed by quiet,zen-like moments, such as the delicate scenes between Zhou Yuand his wife Xiao Qiao.

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The international release cut out a large portion of the entire five-hour run, thereby abbreviating a great deal of the detailed story

and dense interweaving plot threads. Sharp and vivid, painted inrich color, the scenic beauty of armor and weapons, costumes andbattles, add to the splendor of the spectacle. Overall, the well-executed separate movements, sharply contrasting moments of theheros tactics against the adversarys, and distinguishing standoutparts contribute to a handsome, pleasing cinematic experiencein Red Cliff 2.

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Infernal Affairs(2002),

Film ReviewWinnie Khaw

Infernal Affairs(2002), directed by Andrew Lau and Alan Mak, is agritty Hong Kong crime thriller starring Tony Leung asundercover agent Chan Wing-Yan who infiltrates the Triads andremains in that shadowy status for ten years, and Andy Lau as

police officer and secret Triad member Lau Kin-Ming. Heralded asa revival of Hong Kong cinema and a box office miracle, thefilm boasts a star-studded cast and received critical acclaim for itscinematic merit. Infernal Affairswas followed by a prequel and asequel due to commercial success, and inspired a Hollywoodremake, The Departed(2006), directed by Martin Scorsese, whichwon four Oscars. Though the negative mirror-image of thecriminal/cop has been done in the past, this character-focused film

on the psychology and morality of a double life, manages toexecute such a scenario in a gripping and entertaining fashion.

The American DVD cover, courtesy of Buena Vista, is a travestyof artistic justice: an admittedly beautiful young woman (who doesnot appear in the movie) in a tight jumpsuit poses with a gunbetween the profiles of Leung and Lau. The implications confused

me into thinking that Infernal Affairswould be about a romanticlove triangle, complete with mafia action and blazing guns. As well,the Chinese titleMou Gaan Dou, meaning the non-stop path inreference to Avici, the lowest level of hell in Buddhism, has muchmore interesting connotations than the English wordplay onInternal Affairs.

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Infernal Affairsbegins by paralleling the introductions of two youngmen, Yan (Shawn Yue) who enters the police academy only to

apparently be expelled, and Ming (Edison Chen) who starts as agang member and acts as a mole in the police force for drug lordHon Sam (Eric Tsang). The stern Superintendent Wong Chi-Shing(Anthony Wong) becomes a mentor to a young Yan. Ten yearspass, and as the enmity between and Wong and Sam deepens, a catand mouse game to discover the mole within the respective gangand police department begins. Ming wants to leave his role as amole for the Triads and to truly become a righteous cop, while

Yan for years has wanted to recover his identity as a civilian andpolice officer. Their desires come to irreparable cross-purposes,however, when Wong is killed by Sams men.

Quick, abrupt shots emphasize the passing of time and thedifferences between the two men. Tilted camera angles convey asense of unbalance and uncertainty, while a darkly tinted colorpalette throughout evokes a feeling of hopelessness and doom.Unfortunately, an at times melodramatic score at deathscenes/flashbacks/montages somewhat diminishes the veryemotion the movie wishes the audience to have. The scenes ofWongs police department mole Yan against Sams Triad gangmole Ming possess an electric, even explosive mood, and the air isalmost visibly thick with tension. The fact that the audience knowsfrom the very beginning who the moles are does not detract

from Infernal Affairs, as this tense, fast-paced film does not aim tobe a mystery; rather, the race to find each other before being founddrives most of the story, and the clear victory of the amoral Mingby virtue of his survival concludes it.

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One cannot keep an objective distance from the forlorn,desperately unhappy Yan who can find the solace of sleep only in apsychiatrists office; a fine actor (recently Chow Mo-Wan in the

2000 film In the Mood for Lovedirected by Kar-Wai Wong), Leungturns in a particularly layered, sympathetic performance as Yan.Lau gives a well-polished and tuned presentation, but his characterlacks the same complexity as that of Yan, though they both livelives in shades of dubious, varying gray. One is ostensibly thegood guy and the other the bad guy; neither likes what he hasbecome. The line of dichotomy between virtue and evil becomesblurred and unsure. Anthony Wong, with his long and illustrious

acting career, creates a magnificently stoic Superintendent personaunwavering in integrity.

Connections between characters, although pared to the minimum,nevertheless manage to express the essential kinship betweenthem, whatever the degree. The mentor-protg relationship ofSuperintendent Wong and Yan is a complicated one, mixed withgenuine affection and worry even when fraught with accusationsand anger. As an intelligent character study and psychologicaldrama infused with elements of action, Infernal Affairsdoes verywell. Nevertheless, the extraneous romantic interest roles ofMings girlfriend and perhaps Yans psychiatrist seem to occupyunnecessary space in the limited time allotted an otherwise solidand engrossing film. Still, one can argue that the psychiatrist (KellyChen) is a refuge for Yan, and that the literary endeavors of Mings

writer girlfriend (Sammi Cheng) reflect the moral ambiguity ofMing himself.

Moral dilemmas and mixed allegiances make for the contextualexcellence of this film, not the common, even somewhatunoriginal plot, which borrows liberally from preceding cinematic

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productions such as Hong Kong director John Woos TheKiller(1989) and the American movie Heat(1995). High productionvalues, suspenseful direction, adaptive cinematography, and

charismatic performances allow for its blockbuster success.Advancing technology plays an integral part: cell phones and a taperecording can be as lethal as guns firing. Thankfully, over-the-topaction is eschewed in favor of a more subdued tone rich in drama.The later prequel apparently suffers from a lack of establishedcelebrity power, while the sequel lacks a cohesive storylinepredictably, the first filmed Infernal Affairs, remains the bestrepresentation of the trilogy.

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Contributors

Catherine E. Baileyis currently a Ph.D. student in English atWestern Michigan University. Her research interests includegender studies, adolescent literature, magical realism, and theintersections between literature and social justice. Her poetry,prose poetry, and fiction have appeared or are forthcoming inSuperstition Review, Pomona Valley Review, Poetry South, Line Zero,

Scythe,Lingerpost, Rose Red Review, Broad!: A Gentleladys Magazine,Femspec, and other publications.A play she wrote, based oninterviews with over 50 women from four countries, was producedat the University of Rochesters 13th Annual Festival of One-Actsin 2011. She has also published articles and reviews in Colloquy:Text Theory Critique, Yes! Magazine, Afterimage: The Journal of MediaArts and Cultural Criticism, Worldchanging, and Three Percent.

Jim Davisis a graduate of Knox College and an MFA candidateat Northwestern University. Jim lives, writes, and paints inChicago, where he reads for TriQuarterlyand edits theNorth ChicagoReview. His work has appeared in Seneca Review, Blue Mesa Review,Adroit Journal, Whitefish Review, The Caf Review, and ContemporaryAmerican Voices, in addition to winning the Line Zero PoetryContest, Eye on LifePoetry Prize, multiple Editor's Choice awards,

and a recent nomination for the Best of the NetAnthology.www.jimdavispoetry.com

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Carly Steeleis currently pursuing her MFA in Creative Writingat Florida International University. She currently resides inHollywood, Florida. [email protected]

Paul Bernsteinswork has appeared in journals such asMainStreet Rag, Drown in My Own Fears, Poesia, The New Renaissance, andelsewhere. A longtime NYC resident, he now lives in Ann Arbor,MI, where he works as a freelance medical editor and frequentlyappears at open mics and other poetry [email protected]

Brendan Sullivanis a lifelong beach bum who has turned fromacting to poetry, as he finds it a more remarkable muse. He enjoyssurfing, sailing, and diving. His work has been published atWordsmiths, The Missing Slate,Every Writers Resource, Gutter Eloquence,A Sharp Piece of Awesome,After Tournier, Bareback Magazine,Emerge,and Bare Hands.

Winnie Khawis a creative writing MFA candidate at CaliforniaCollege of the Arts. Her work is featured inEmpty Mirror Books,Passages North, Palooka Journal, The Philadelphia Review,Eclectica, TheDaily Satire, etc. She was waitlisted for the 2013 Lit Campconference in San Francisco, and was Chapman Universitysnominee for the Association of Writers award in fiction in 2011.But mostly, she spends her free time being silly.

Documents

Magic Lantern Review, Issue 5