Who's Your Daddy?
In Taken, Liam Neeson gives you a former superspy who now faces very mundane issues. These are common, nevertheless quite warm and quite pressing questions like coming up with the right birthday present for her late adolescent daughter.
The superspy's family is split by the time we join in, Neeson's figure gets thoroughly embarrassed when the stepfather delivers his very robust and very alive gift to the girl. Now shame on you if you got the wrong idea.
The daughter shortly will approach his father with a request to let her leave the country for a while. Though Neeson is hesitant at first, - this is everyday average superspy functionality, a so called: "Factory Default" - he finally agrees. Her daughter shortly will be Taken - hence the title, I suspect scientifically - by remarkably bad Albanian people, but Neeson gets enough information from his daughter in those very crucial moments to start his own crusade for the beloved kidnapped.
Liam Neeson looks and feels highly credible in this acceptable spy flick, though it is more precise to regard the installment as an average action film with a lot of similar fights and a lot of similar facial expressions in it. Perplexedly, the spy characteristics of the film come from nowhere except Neeson's raw elegance and consorting charisma, if the movie would lack his presence, then the results surely would be remarkably shallow and utterly predictable. Though the case remains similar nevertheless, Taken at least tries to look for openings to make the narrative more interesting, and even manages to find some extra moments of bitterly sought novelty shocks along the way.
The main problem with Taken is - if this is a problem at all - that it satisfies happily with the uninventive action directions concerning flashy car chases and profound strikes to the face performed by skillful hands and bathroom sinks in rapid succession. Thank God it is not the same face all the time. One might seem to molest the depths of an amazingly deep ineptitude if to blame an action flick for delivering action.
The drawback of this style of narrative though is that you know you are free to steal a glance at your watch, - if you do have one, I never had - because Liam will kick all hostile butts and will have the woman in the end, too. OK, will have his daughter. From this point on, it is the redefinition of action is the least I would anticipate from such a classic recipe, but that, Taken does not deliver.
- Hey, it's SHANNON from LOST! You may want to reconsider saving her ass.
- Oh My God! YOU ARE SO RIGHT!!
At the end of the day, this film behaves more predictably as it approaches its own focal points in the narrative, but this is - sadly - normal behavior from present day action flicks. Initially, Taken is a film of solid acting and sane conflicts - from a narrative point of view - between its characters, but quickly will unfold to Luc Besson style car chase action, once the central conflict is introduced. I wouldn't call it a bad movie, though. I would call it a movie which Liam Neeson skillfully saves from being bad.
If you enjoyed this here article, check out my comic: Planetseed
If you are to circulate magnificently pleasant vibrations: Buy me Beer
Read more!
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Monday, December 1, 2008
Stalker
In Beautiful Dirt They Pay
Order a Wish! from Amazon
Arkadi and Borislav Trugatsky wrote the novel Roadside Picnic in 1971, a fiction released to the public by the very next year. A work sewn of subtle inventiveness to confront quite substantial indications of an alien intelligence with the political-, and even spiritual considerations human society and individual must face with in spite of such an encounter. In Roadside Picnic, the aliens use Earth to get rid of certain stuff they prefer to keep elsewhere than their immediate surroundings, yet these packages have the trait of dramatically affecting the regions they land on. It is not sure nor it seems particularly important if these objects and apparitions are solely alien garbage-elements or items that were of effective use for their originators at some time - the fact of the matter is that all seem to manipulate the behavior of earthy reality itself in a certain vicinity. These vicinities are referred to as Zones. Each Artifact the aliens have left behind - creates such a Zone.
These regions necessarily get under political-, and finally, under military control, making them forbidden territories that are very hard to enter, but even more hard to leave from. Places known to, or at the very least: rumored to possess both the gravest of dangers and the most precious of treasures. As such, illegal trespassers are to emerge shortly, risking both their sanity and their lives either for loot, or for those more delicate findings the Zone is rumored to possess.
These scavenger individuals are called Stalkers. Scouts with knowledge about the Zone they are resident around. Science, of course, is massively interested in gaining relevant information about the Zones, being constantly baffled both by its findings and via the realization of its current incapacity to properly account the results and phenomenons it encounters.
Notice how this 1971 work of the Trugatsky brothers sketched out the fictional outlines of an eerie, yet evidently unconscious prediction of future real life events that occurred in 1986. Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant, surrounding area: a region which is almost completely vacant, giving place to the two ghost cities of Prypiat and Chernobyl. The Zone that does exist in reality. The Zone that came to existence seven years after Andrei Tarkovski delivered his motion picture variant on the related textual fiction-originator by the Trugatsky siblings.
Tarkovski regards time as the most important tool a director has, pointing out that every single frame of a motion picture has an inherent time in it, a period the given frame or sequence of frames is worth showing for.
Time is both fond and abundant here, as it has a whole micro-world to showcase. The Zone is the place which houses the demons you create for yourself. Understands what you anticipate from it and acts accordingly.
You possess constant capacity to alter the way you perceive reality around you, and the Zone is the place that invites you to seek out the truth of this very notion. The Zone will serve your anticipations, punishing you if you feel deserved to be punished, or grant the most secretive wish of your soul if you sincerely feel you could get away with the inherent fruit or the inherent burden of that desire more deservedly.
- Aren't you afraid the bus will EXPLODE??
- I'm afraid it WON'T!
The roamers of the Stalker universe are usually either the most desperate or the most reckless individuals, yet, there is a very thin line separating these rigid, nevertheless playful categories. As the Stalker states: the Zone seems not to be too fond of "good" people, or "bad" people. It is more fond of "hopelessness".
What is hope? Hope is fragile conviction, but the promise of conviction and the promise of potentiality - waiting to have the chance of claiming a slice of reality to finally manifest in.
Once someone remains free of hopes that one's negative or positive preconceptions have strong enough of a validity/warranty to unravel unto consensus reality, - necessarily bestowing an influence on the fabric of things, - then the Zone is likely to be fond of that visitor.
Concepts are formed to give the inventor of the concept a more comfortable way to approach and perceive reality, yet, imposing the concept necessarily constrains reality and may prove to be a hindrance rather than benefit once the ultimate source of the perceived is scrutinized. By accepting- and worshiping certain beliefs, one methodically narrows oneself to observe reality with all kinds of boundaries mounted on the apparatus one commands. Believing is: expecting.
The Zone does not want to be expected.
The Zone demands that you throw your expectations and consorting hopes away, thus, similarly demanding that you exhibit the non-compromised capacity to be utterly surprised- and accept whatever events, apparitions or experiences the Zone chooses to cross you with. This is the place that demands you to RELEASE whatever you believed to be proper, and true. More strictly: it demands you to release yourself from yourself. Once you antagonize the Zone's demands, cheap kind of death is imminent - this is a quite faulty decision from the authors. It could have been more fun if the Zone would choose to release the ones freely if they prove to be incapable of releasing themselves. A life stained by the inner experience of not being able to throw away what is - probably falsely - believed to be the limit, is a much more miserable burden than the embrace of lazy, fat death is.
Stalker delivers you a Writer and a Professor, both having a profane crisis in their lives. Not the same crisis, though. It is like - they are having their respective crisis. They hope - heh! - that the Zone will yield them some answers on how to proceed with their earthy existences.
Stalker's dialog is packed with delicate spiritual material - sorry about that - to sink your grateful astral teeth into. The conceptualization of music: who, or what, and how recognizes the harmony of music, and why, and how does it induce pleasant vibes in you? What is the "you" that recognizes the pleasant vibe? Stalker states that Power and Hardness are companions of Death, while Weakness and Flexibility are the companions of Life. This observation recognizes Power and Hardness as unavoidable conclusions/possessions one could end up at/with, as one reaches Power and Hardness by determining what is beneficial and what is not for one, if one is to attain these traits. Thus one who is Hard and Powerful inevitably denied and/or threw elements of consensus away, thereby limiting oneself. Funnily enough, being Powerful and Hard are two limits right away, aren't they?
addendum: after completing this review, I discovered at the 15th of March, 2008 that Tarkovski was fond of Chinese wisdom by the Stalker days. The sacred Chinese text Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu, Pass 76 translates to this:
Man at his birth is supple and weak; at his death, firm and
strong. (So it is with) all things. Trees and plants, in their early
growth, are soft and brittle; at their death, dry and withered.
Thus it is that firmness and strength are the concomitants of
death; softness and weakness, the concomitants of life.
Hence he who (relies on) the strength of his forces does not
conquer; and a tree which is strong will fill the out-stretched arms,
(and thereby invites the feller.)
Therefore the place of what is firm and strong is below, and that
of what is soft and weak is above.
Tarkovski implemented the message pretty much on a word-by-word basis, so it is absolutely acceptable, yet the act certainly may inspire you to read the rest of the entries as well. Here is the link in case you are interested:
Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu
Tarkovski could not ever be bothered to deliver a motion picture output shorter and smaller than monstrous length and proportions, Stalker, fortunately, is no exception. A highly welcomed circumstance, as you can not have too much of a good thing, do not believe the hype.
- GOD, what HAPPENED to you!
- Huh? I'm around, I'm around.
Tarkovski recognizes the beauty of mud and dirt, or, to approach this seemingly controversial statement differently: this director shows you dirt, territorial neglect in such a calm, sober way that it becomes a thorough documentary of a place that has a blatantly powerful atmosphere to it. Beauty becomes neglect, neglect becomes beauty. The only thing that is really happening is that the Zone's blatantly powerful atmosphere gets recognized- and precisely presented to you. Tarkovski moves in this environment with the pace quite similar and harmonious to the mere rhythm of the region itself, including the strait, demanding lifestyle characterizing the surrounding settlements visitors are coming from.
Who is the Stalker here?
Stalker delivers quality character development. The Writer, offered by Anatoli Solonitsyn and The Scientist played by Nikolai Grinko are both doing a solid job of voicing a cleverly doubtful, and, oftentimes profoundly cynical intellectual and emotional stance towards existence in general, though all three men - Stalker: Aleksandr Kaidanovsky - have their own, quite cautious conceptualizations of the events that are likely to unfold and are worth preparing for on the road leading to the Goal.
There IS a Goal, indeed. A Room. More precisely: The Room. This is the place which fulfills desires, once reached. The two men will challenge each other, will even challenge the Stalker, forcing each one of the adventurers to express-, and to defend their respective attitudes/approaches they "hope" to cope with- AND within the Zone.
The Scientist reveals means he might be able to eradicate the whole Zone by. The Stalker gets frightened of this development - he wants to get a hold of the nuclear bomb the Scientist carries, - sorry for spoiling your enjoyment by the way - yet the Writer decides to defend the Professor instead of helping the Stalker to acquire the bomb. Why does he commit this? This is a very interesting question, which yields an even more interesting answer.
He probably does this because he believes that each one of them is entitled to have their very own agendas and attitudes represented in the Zone. Even a radical plan. All plans, all agendas the Zone is ready to give a place to. None of them should attempt to destroy-, or to question the legitimacy of any other attitudes or approaches. Only the Zone should judge, no man should. The Stalker wants to get hold of the bomb, so the place which is more important to him than his life, should remain intact. He confesses quite convincingly how he keeps everything of personal, intrinsic value here, a train of thought upon which he gets accused of pretending to be a God, a decision maker of who shall die and who shall live on this hectic territory, that which for he cultivates sentiments sewn of deluded selfishness.
By resonating the will to take the bomb away, the Stalker indeed exhibits the arrogant conviction that HIS faithfulness and personal attachment to the Zone should automatically "overwrite" the Professor's similarly legit conception and consorting plan of destroying the place. Loving and worshiping the Zone passionately - as the Stalker does - is a legit stance, but wanting to destroy it, IS a legit stance, as well. Denying the "right", the "spiritual right" to represent an agenda: is unacceptable. Either way, no Zone visitor is in the position to rightfully claim ultimate, superior legitimacy for her/his point of view, and for her/his agenda. The Professor actually has the legitimacy to blow the place apart, as much as the Stalker has the legitimacy to worship the Zone. The Professor can't neglect or destroy the Stalker's spiritual right to worship the Zone, but the Stalker can't take the bomb away from the Professor, thereby negating the spiritual right of wanting to destroy the Zone, either.
Stalker is a deeply spiritual output which plays on extremely atmospheric, high frequency registers when sensory assault is concerned, and it is concerned quite intensely in this here hypnotic effort. There is no pause, and here is why: the whole movie is a morose, prolonged pause. A moment to take a thorough look at the reflections this special Zone projects on the protagonists and on their respective agendas, also a moment to let you think if you would consider yourself prepared enough to enter this vibrant, capricious territory.
If you enjoyed this here article, check out my comic: Planetseed
If you are to circulate magnificently pleasant vibrations: Buy me Beer Read more!
Order a Wish! from Amazon
Arkadi and Borislav Trugatsky wrote the novel Roadside Picnic in 1971, a fiction released to the public by the very next year. A work sewn of subtle inventiveness to confront quite substantial indications of an alien intelligence with the political-, and even spiritual considerations human society and individual must face with in spite of such an encounter. In Roadside Picnic, the aliens use Earth to get rid of certain stuff they prefer to keep elsewhere than their immediate surroundings, yet these packages have the trait of dramatically affecting the regions they land on. It is not sure nor it seems particularly important if these objects and apparitions are solely alien garbage-elements or items that were of effective use for their originators at some time - the fact of the matter is that all seem to manipulate the behavior of earthy reality itself in a certain vicinity. These vicinities are referred to as Zones. Each Artifact the aliens have left behind - creates such a Zone.
These regions necessarily get under political-, and finally, under military control, making them forbidden territories that are very hard to enter, but even more hard to leave from. Places known to, or at the very least: rumored to possess both the gravest of dangers and the most precious of treasures. As such, illegal trespassers are to emerge shortly, risking both their sanity and their lives either for loot, or for those more delicate findings the Zone is rumored to possess.
These scavenger individuals are called Stalkers. Scouts with knowledge about the Zone they are resident around. Science, of course, is massively interested in gaining relevant information about the Zones, being constantly baffled both by its findings and via the realization of its current incapacity to properly account the results and phenomenons it encounters.
Notice how this 1971 work of the Trugatsky brothers sketched out the fictional outlines of an eerie, yet evidently unconscious prediction of future real life events that occurred in 1986. Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant, surrounding area: a region which is almost completely vacant, giving place to the two ghost cities of Prypiat and Chernobyl. The Zone that does exist in reality. The Zone that came to existence seven years after Andrei Tarkovski delivered his motion picture variant on the related textual fiction-originator by the Trugatsky siblings.
Tarkovski regards time as the most important tool a director has, pointing out that every single frame of a motion picture has an inherent time in it, a period the given frame or sequence of frames is worth showing for.
Time is both fond and abundant here, as it has a whole micro-world to showcase. The Zone is the place which houses the demons you create for yourself. Understands what you anticipate from it and acts accordingly.
You possess constant capacity to alter the way you perceive reality around you, and the Zone is the place that invites you to seek out the truth of this very notion. The Zone will serve your anticipations, punishing you if you feel deserved to be punished, or grant the most secretive wish of your soul if you sincerely feel you could get away with the inherent fruit or the inherent burden of that desire more deservedly.
- Aren't you afraid the bus will EXPLODE??
- I'm afraid it WON'T!
The roamers of the Stalker universe are usually either the most desperate or the most reckless individuals, yet, there is a very thin line separating these rigid, nevertheless playful categories. As the Stalker states: the Zone seems not to be too fond of "good" people, or "bad" people. It is more fond of "hopelessness".
What is hope? Hope is fragile conviction, but the promise of conviction and the promise of potentiality - waiting to have the chance of claiming a slice of reality to finally manifest in.
Once someone remains free of hopes that one's negative or positive preconceptions have strong enough of a validity/warranty to unravel unto consensus reality, - necessarily bestowing an influence on the fabric of things, - then the Zone is likely to be fond of that visitor.
Concepts are formed to give the inventor of the concept a more comfortable way to approach and perceive reality, yet, imposing the concept necessarily constrains reality and may prove to be a hindrance rather than benefit once the ultimate source of the perceived is scrutinized. By accepting- and worshiping certain beliefs, one methodically narrows oneself to observe reality with all kinds of boundaries mounted on the apparatus one commands. Believing is: expecting.
The Zone does not want to be expected.
The Zone demands that you throw your expectations and consorting hopes away, thus, similarly demanding that you exhibit the non-compromised capacity to be utterly surprised- and accept whatever events, apparitions or experiences the Zone chooses to cross you with. This is the place that demands you to RELEASE whatever you believed to be proper, and true. More strictly: it demands you to release yourself from yourself. Once you antagonize the Zone's demands, cheap kind of death is imminent - this is a quite faulty decision from the authors. It could have been more fun if the Zone would choose to release the ones freely if they prove to be incapable of releasing themselves. A life stained by the inner experience of not being able to throw away what is - probably falsely - believed to be the limit, is a much more miserable burden than the embrace of lazy, fat death is.
Stalker delivers you a Writer and a Professor, both having a profane crisis in their lives. Not the same crisis, though. It is like - they are having their respective crisis. They hope - heh! - that the Zone will yield them some answers on how to proceed with their earthy existences.
Stalker's dialog is packed with delicate spiritual material - sorry about that - to sink your grateful astral teeth into. The conceptualization of music: who, or what, and how recognizes the harmony of music, and why, and how does it induce pleasant vibes in you? What is the "you" that recognizes the pleasant vibe? Stalker states that Power and Hardness are companions of Death, while Weakness and Flexibility are the companions of Life. This observation recognizes Power and Hardness as unavoidable conclusions/possessions one could end up at/with, as one reaches Power and Hardness by determining what is beneficial and what is not for one, if one is to attain these traits. Thus one who is Hard and Powerful inevitably denied and/or threw elements of consensus away, thereby limiting oneself. Funnily enough, being Powerful and Hard are two limits right away, aren't they?
addendum: after completing this review, I discovered at the 15th of March, 2008 that Tarkovski was fond of Chinese wisdom by the Stalker days. The sacred Chinese text Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu, Pass 76 translates to this:
Man at his birth is supple and weak; at his death, firm and
strong. (So it is with) all things. Trees and plants, in their early
growth, are soft and brittle; at their death, dry and withered.
Thus it is that firmness and strength are the concomitants of
death; softness and weakness, the concomitants of life.
Hence he who (relies on) the strength of his forces does not
conquer; and a tree which is strong will fill the out-stretched arms,
(and thereby invites the feller.)
Therefore the place of what is firm and strong is below, and that
of what is soft and weak is above.
Tarkovski implemented the message pretty much on a word-by-word basis, so it is absolutely acceptable, yet the act certainly may inspire you to read the rest of the entries as well. Here is the link in case you are interested:
Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu
Tarkovski could not ever be bothered to deliver a motion picture output shorter and smaller than monstrous length and proportions, Stalker, fortunately, is no exception. A highly welcomed circumstance, as you can not have too much of a good thing, do not believe the hype.
- GOD, what HAPPENED to you!
- Huh? I'm around, I'm around.
Tarkovski recognizes the beauty of mud and dirt, or, to approach this seemingly controversial statement differently: this director shows you dirt, territorial neglect in such a calm, sober way that it becomes a thorough documentary of a place that has a blatantly powerful atmosphere to it. Beauty becomes neglect, neglect becomes beauty. The only thing that is really happening is that the Zone's blatantly powerful atmosphere gets recognized- and precisely presented to you. Tarkovski moves in this environment with the pace quite similar and harmonious to the mere rhythm of the region itself, including the strait, demanding lifestyle characterizing the surrounding settlements visitors are coming from.
Who is the Stalker here?
Stalker delivers quality character development. The Writer, offered by Anatoli Solonitsyn and The Scientist played by Nikolai Grinko are both doing a solid job of voicing a cleverly doubtful, and, oftentimes profoundly cynical intellectual and emotional stance towards existence in general, though all three men - Stalker: Aleksandr Kaidanovsky - have their own, quite cautious conceptualizations of the events that are likely to unfold and are worth preparing for on the road leading to the Goal.
There IS a Goal, indeed. A Room. More precisely: The Room. This is the place which fulfills desires, once reached. The two men will challenge each other, will even challenge the Stalker, forcing each one of the adventurers to express-, and to defend their respective attitudes/approaches they "hope" to cope with- AND within the Zone.
The Scientist reveals means he might be able to eradicate the whole Zone by. The Stalker gets frightened of this development - he wants to get a hold of the nuclear bomb the Scientist carries, - sorry for spoiling your enjoyment by the way - yet the Writer decides to defend the Professor instead of helping the Stalker to acquire the bomb. Why does he commit this? This is a very interesting question, which yields an even more interesting answer.
He probably does this because he believes that each one of them is entitled to have their very own agendas and attitudes represented in the Zone. Even a radical plan. All plans, all agendas the Zone is ready to give a place to. None of them should attempt to destroy-, or to question the legitimacy of any other attitudes or approaches. Only the Zone should judge, no man should. The Stalker wants to get hold of the bomb, so the place which is more important to him than his life, should remain intact. He confesses quite convincingly how he keeps everything of personal, intrinsic value here, a train of thought upon which he gets accused of pretending to be a God, a decision maker of who shall die and who shall live on this hectic territory, that which for he cultivates sentiments sewn of deluded selfishness.
By resonating the will to take the bomb away, the Stalker indeed exhibits the arrogant conviction that HIS faithfulness and personal attachment to the Zone should automatically "overwrite" the Professor's similarly legit conception and consorting plan of destroying the place. Loving and worshiping the Zone passionately - as the Stalker does - is a legit stance, but wanting to destroy it, IS a legit stance, as well. Denying the "right", the "spiritual right" to represent an agenda: is unacceptable. Either way, no Zone visitor is in the position to rightfully claim ultimate, superior legitimacy for her/his point of view, and for her/his agenda. The Professor actually has the legitimacy to blow the place apart, as much as the Stalker has the legitimacy to worship the Zone. The Professor can't neglect or destroy the Stalker's spiritual right to worship the Zone, but the Stalker can't take the bomb away from the Professor, thereby negating the spiritual right of wanting to destroy the Zone, either.
Stalker is a deeply spiritual output which plays on extremely atmospheric, high frequency registers when sensory assault is concerned, and it is concerned quite intensely in this here hypnotic effort. There is no pause, and here is why: the whole movie is a morose, prolonged pause. A moment to take a thorough look at the reflections this special Zone projects on the protagonists and on their respective agendas, also a moment to let you think if you would consider yourself prepared enough to enter this vibrant, capricious territory.
If you enjoyed this here article, check out my comic: Planetseed
If you are to circulate magnificently pleasant vibrations: Buy me Beer Read more!
Monday, November 17, 2008
UFC 91 Randy Couture VS Brock Lesnar
Introduction
Mixed martial arts clearly became a significant form of both mass entertainment and - as Bruce Lee put it - an expression of the human body, the latter being, no doubt, the original field of operation of these ancient traditions, now living and breathing through competitive events around the world. Though many may consider men who enter the proving grounds little more than hired human pitbulls to rip each other apart for hard cash and radical amusement, I tend to utterly reject this rudimentary view, concluding that professional level mma is the combat of highly disciplined human spirits, opposing each other for the duration of the bout, probably ending up as unified in the process as we could conceive, simply through their magnificent shared experience of being in a cage where the damage one suffers is the wit one failed to exhibit. That is how, in my opinion, the mma fighter fights against herself/himself.
Japanese people compete to gain an insight of their own current abilities through the collision process of their skills with that of other's. To me, the ultimately glorious moments of mixed martial arts are not of those of KOs and submissions. They are of those of hugging the formal rival at the end of the bout, circulating the most honest, uncompromised, pure respect each fighter deserves simply by stating themselves on the proving grounds, regardless of the results. The ensuing peace between fighters after a good collision is such a palpable, legit sensation that it never got old so far - and won't ever will.
This here is a review of the UFC event UFC 91 Couture VS Lesnar, time to punch that Read more button, baby!
Introductory thoughts about the more significant lineups
Following a pause period stretching well over the duration of one year, and characterized by prolonged legal dispute against the UFC, Randy Couture is back to defend his Heavyweight Title. This warrior still considers his body integral enough to be exposed to top level mma competition, and, seeing his exceptional career with all the upsets he managed to pull off so far, he is the epitome of experienced will-breaker, as well.
Randy wanted to collide with Fedor Emelianenko, the UFC's incapability to arrange this, - among other things concerning sober relations between respect and payment - have largely contributed to Couture's decision of leaving the organization. Nowadays Randy does not think that Fedor VS Couture will ever happen, as there are too many legal obstacles in the way of such a fight. Let us see if this statement is a part of a convoluted marketing strategy or an expression of commitment towards the UFC, which, maybe, the organization demanded anyway. If I recall correctly, The Natural now has a six fights contract to fulfill. Coming back to the fray having his title defended against Gabriel Gonzaga in UFC 74 Respect, the classic question everyone will ask - including your dogs and cats - is this:
Could! The! Natural! Be! Able! To! Stop! This! Young! Super! Humanoid! Called! Brock! Lesnar! With! 45! Years! On! His! Back! ???????????
And those 45 years are on Randy's back, too. Real-life Incredible Hulk Brock Lesnar comes to you as a man who forgot to pull a leg off against Frank Mir, being granted with the question: tap or be lame largely literally. Upon his return though, Brock managed to stop Heath Herring in UFC 87 Seek and Destroy. The Beast states that he likes Randy very much. But, as of November the 15th, 2008: "I don't like Randy." Couture states that Lesnar poses some very interesting problems for him, as this humane mountain claims much more out of mere space-time than Randy does - not Randy's own words, me confesses - and he - Couture - feels massively challenged to deal with such a young- and exceptionally powerful competitor. Even better/worse: according to UFC President Dana White, Brock Lesnar is a psychotic competitor. One look in the eyes of The Beast and you can tell that White but stated the evident.
Kenny Ifinishfights uhm... sorry, Kenny "KenFlo" Florian comes back to us after handing a decisive loss to Roger Huerta in UFC 87 Seek and Destroy, now the mature competitor steps up against deeply upset Joe Stevenson who has a hard time digesting the circumstance that quite a few fans consider him to be an underdog in this lineup. He states that he will prove them wrong. Sure, shock us, Joe!
Demian Maia vs Nate Quarry
Nate Quarry, the UFC's most experienced dasher faces his toughest challenge to date by the night. Demian Maia, possessor of a flawless mma record is as lethal of a fighter on the ground as you will ever see, and he won't necessarily pretend that he is not. Maia always looks for the possibility to take the fight downstairs, even if it requires some tricks to rely on: it looks like as if Demain would slip in front of Nate Quarry early in the first period, but I am not sure if this was an actual slip or a "trick-slip" to make Quarry excited. Regardless of which variant is the actual one, Nate jumps on the Jiu-Jitsu master, seemingly failing to notice that either he just walked into the trap Maia set up for him, or he - Quarry - just managed to engage his opponent on the field that he is remarkably good on. Through a brief- yet rather effective ground session in which Maia is the spider and his opponent is the fly, Demian eventually soaks an arm in, forcing Quarry to tap out.
Gabriel Gonzaga vs Josh Hendricks
I don't really understand this particular match. Josh Hendricks is Randy Couture's training partner who tried to imitate Brock Lesnar, that is OK so far. Josh Hendricks, I suppose, also was curious of how he could perform in the Octagon, and one must think that he asked Randy to put a good word for him. The Dana White must have nodded, as Hendricks is granted a UFC debut by the night, against none other than Gabriel "Big Nose" Gonzaga! Well, what could we expect if to put an enthusiastic random gym guy against a seasoned mma professional? Not sure about you, but I certainly would anticipate the seasoned mma professional to dispose of that enthusiastic random gym butt in 5 seconds - TOPS!
Gonzaga causes disappointment for me, as he needs one minute and one second - that is: 1:01, for your information - to destroy this poor dude, who is failing epicly at recognizing characteristics of the known Universe. Just kidding, of course: Gabriel deserves quality credit, as he asks for Referee Steve Mazzegatti's confirmation whether the supervisor wants to see consecutive bombs being unleashed on the downed opponent. This rite of tender compassion demands valuable seconds, mind you. Mazzegatti nods on those strikes of further punishment nevertheless, just to make sure that Hendricks got handed quite useful tools to conduct a thorough reality check with. Once the second strike of ruthless enlightenment connects, Mazzegatti jumps in to save the defeated.
The blow that was the beginning of the end is of further note here: not frequently you see a strike that has "ricochet potential" in it, yet, this one is among those rare punches: notice how the strike connects on the chin, then, slipping down, it affects the center of the chest, still packing such tremendous power that you can see the force of the impact departing through Hendricks's back. All in all, definite credit to Josh for taking this fight, more precisely: for taking that, and not changing his mind about it. Let us see if the UFC makes a habit of offering executions from now on.
Dustin Hazelett vs Tamdan McCrory
What's more funny than seeing a leprechaun performing in the Octagon? I'll tell you what: seeing two performing, even better: against each other. If I grasped correctly, Dustin Hazelett plans to be the most successful submission practitioner in the world, an agenda accomplished by rigorously focusing on this particular aspect of the game. This collision has a nice, furious character to it whenever the fight chooses to take place in these brief- yet fierce standup exchanges, though eventually the fighters find themselves on the ground. Solidifying his statement and intrinsic desire about being the most effective submission wizard in the whole wide world, Hazelett eventually offers a rather graphic presentation of high level limb molestation, earning him the w, let alone a significant building block he can place in his - utterly metaphorical - temple of submissions.
Randy Couture vs Brock Lesnar
The Natural still looks competent in the Octagon, which wouldn't be of particular news, not if the opponent would exhibit humane proportions and corresponding fighting style. Brock being more like a CG creation though, it isn't hard to be amazed by Couture's readiness to wage this war in a rather sober, but, to be quite honest with ourselves: Not. Particularly. Interesting. Manner. The name of the game is the "fence clinch" herein. I am sorry, I do not know if this common Octagon status has an official name- or nickname to it, therefore I will refer to it as the fence clinch. I refer to the status in which you see the rivals gripping each other at the fence, trying to find a way to express effective hostility. This is a relatively safe position to be in for a - khm, khm - "little while", as the posture itself is a combined question mark by which both fighter is asked what they are able to do, what they can come up with. Let me draw your attention to something, though:
the Biggerer the Duderers Arer Iner the Fencer Clincher -
the longer the clinch will be, subsequently, the more hard of a time you will have keeping your eyes open over the "action", as there will be very little of that at the first place. If any, that is. I remember the matches of Tank Abbot from the dawn of UFC. Oh my, what a complete waste of time those matches were! You roll the opponent to the fence, then spend the entire time of the fight constraining him there, hoping to steal some short range shots on the head or on the body. Even present day UFC is affected by this terrible phenomena: the match between Brandon Vera and Tim Sylvia from UFC 78 Validation is a sedative of brutal efficiency, for example. Vera will tell you that he broke his hand and that kinna' threw the gameplan away, well, I can relate to it. Meaning: I don't care, I kinna' expect you to deliver excitement with your hand kinna' broken, to be honest. Among other warriors, Forrest Griffin could do that. Randy Couture could do that. Not to mention that in an ideal world, I wouldn't have to gain information about Vera's broken hand from Vera.
Sorry for this detour. A massive portion of this here collision between Couture vs Lesnar remains faithful to these clinching at the fence traditions. Fortunately, some intense maneuvers do occur before these sequences, yet, though those are mainly in Brock's favor, they prove insufficient to put Couture away, but they are effective enough to take The Natural to a thorough dance at the fence. I recall Brock going for a successful takedown, - the attempt itself is an evident sign of respect towards The Natural's standup abilities - yet at one particular point, even Randy tries to go for one from the clinch, though eventually failing at bringing The Beast downstairs. When Brock seems to control the positions, Couture finds the wits- and experience to turn a dire situation around, succeeding at getting free of the hulking man's clinch, connecting with a precise strike to open Brock up above the brow as a significant goodbye-move to this particular sub-sequence.
You know what? I think Couture should not feel himself relaxed between rounds. More precisely: I think he should, but he should not express his relaxation openly. It brings bad luck to this man, trust me. Back in the earlier days of the UFC, Randy smiled enthusiastically after the first round against Ricco Rodriguez, and, indeed The Natural looked good in the opening period. Then he got battered. Now Randy smiles after the first period against Brock, and indeed he looks totally competent against the superhuman CG creature Lesnar terrifies you as.
In the second round though, Brock connects with a good shot to the temple, sending Randy to the ground whose head quickly gets subjected to the most furious trademark Donkey Kong session you could see from Brock so far: hammerfists after hammerfists raining down, eventually causing a Referee stoppage. Brock goes home as the New UFC Heavyweight Champion, it's nice to see Randy telling "Good Job!" to him, and it's interesting to hear fans BOO!-ing the former Pro Wrestler, who, after all, have proven himself considerably, second time now. We are to see if Brock Lesnar will be another Tim Sylvia, God, I hope he won't. I have nothing against Tim Sylvia either, yet I find Brock Lesnar to be a much more entertaining/interesting fighter/athlete and screen phenomena. I don't think the dude deserves the dislike factor he got upon scoring the belt. By the way, don't send this review to Tim Sylvia if you want to see a next one.
Kenny Florian vs Joe Stevenson
Well, I hope Joe Stevenson does not plan to open up a gallery to showcase how he taps out of rear naked chokes to different opponents. Now he has a significant addition to this particular performance. This match never reached a second period, Kenny Ifinishfights demands a tapout from Stevenson by effectively outclassing the passionate competitor. To tell you the truth, Stevenson did not even enter the Octagon, - worship metaphors, biatches! - no one did expect Kenny Florian, who states in the postfight interview that it is exactly what he wanted. He wanted to come here and make a statement. He wants BJ Penn's Lightweight Belt. He adds this: "I consider him the Master and I want to kill that Master."
Wohow. Kenny Florian is indeed a surprisingly good fighter, mainly because he approaches the game scientifically. Let us see if this proves to be enough to catch The Little Buddha red handed. But, never forget that it's not necessarily good news if you catch BJ Penn while his hands are red, you know. Or his elbows. Joe Stevenson and Sean Sherk have a whole lot, even a WHULLUT to tell you about this.
Aaron Riley vs Jorge Gurgel
Jorge Gurgel is an obsessionist, though such a word, as I notice, is not yet in existence. Gurgel's personal mania is that fighting is more entertaining to watch when the collision unravels in the standup position, so, regardless that he is a black belt jiu-jitsu practitioner, he prefers to remain on his feet, regardless how silly he gets beat to. This is a classic event, take heed and bear witness of the heroic effort of Jorge Gurgel, pretty much making a fool of himself by refusing to exhibit any will whatsoever to take this fight to the territories he might be able to win that on. You got to give credit for this fighter nevertheless for desperately trying to oppose a man who surpasses his - Gurgel's - standup abilities, but, to be honest, I am not sure what his plans are for the future. When someone beats him with his - Gurgel's - thorn-out arm, would THEN he be satisfied? He either needs to evolve as a standup warrior or needs to realize that the approach he is following now will never get him all that much far.
Of the remaining bouts, I did not bear much interest, therefore I wrap this up, having the focal points of the night accounted on. Hope you had a fine evening and found the review useful - thank you for reading it, and see you next time.
If you enjoyed this here article, check out my comic: Planetseed
If you are to circulate magnificently pleasant vibrations: Buy me Beer
Read more!
Friday, November 14, 2008
The Bank Job
Brain Robbing
Order a Heist! from Amazon
To say that life is among the greatest storytellers, probably would be an understatement, especially when you consider that Roger Donaldson's latest motion picture delivery to date, The Bank Job, is based on true events that took place in London, 1971.
The frame of the buildup is rather intriguing: the British Government finds itself in an untenable situation, being incapable to arrest a certain individual without exposing the United Kingdom to grave developments that could lead to a revolt. As you may have guessed, this particular person maintains very effective blackmail potential over the British Royalty, and, as such: over its Government, as well.
Information suggests that the blackmailer, Mr. X probably keeps the blackmail photos in a safe deposit box of Lloyd's Bank, Baker Street, but the Royalty would never make a move for them, as they don't even possess knowledge of those outrageous photos, even worse: these highest circles probably would collapse on themselves if they had. The Intelligence Agency comes up with a plan. What they want to do is to set up a bank robbery themselves, so the hired/involved villains could take all the loot they want in exchange for the "Royal Portfolio", taken from the safe deposit box of Mr. X.
If this sounds implausible already, then those past real life events are eager to amaze the viewer further on: the robbery is indeed instigated by the Government, but a radio amateur accidentally intercepts the transmissions taking place between the robbers. He informs the Police of his continuous findings, and, no further emphasis is needed: a quite convoluted-, nevertheless absolutely logical narrative carnage of intersecting, overlapping agendas begins.
The fabric of the movie is that of a matrix of organic relations between interests, in which each one of these parties must figure out what-, and how to react, and, most importantly: towards who to react. Roger Donaldson creates and offers quality screentime in this dualistic narrative effort. A massive, initial portion is dedicated to the presentation of the arrangements taking place before the heist, yet the robbers will have but a harshly limited time to resonate joy beside their suspected loot, and this is the point from which on Donaldson switches gears and pushes the pedal to the metal.
Thankfully, the film does not want to be an action flick, the real fun, and, for some degree: the real challenge here is to remain in the game without losing trace of the happenings, though worry is not necessarily to be invoked if at first you fail to set one particular aspect of the rather complex buildup in place. The work of Dick Clement and Ian La Fernais - the interpreters of these real life events - definitely deserves multiple sit-throughs.
Fortunately enough, Bank Job presents you all its considerable intrinsic values through a top notch cast, focally characterized by the key role of Jason Statham, probably one of the ten most charismatic masculine phenoms you could see on the contemporary big screen. While beautiful Saffron Burrows, the giver of the tip renders an absolutely solid performance as a female sidekick, Peter Bowles delivers a very memorable, albeit, sorrowfully not too prolonged interpretation of the head of the Intelligence Agency. No sober man would want to cross this man's path without a fake nuclear bomb in the pocket. Let it be too.
Donaldson's effort surprises consensus as a brave enough installment to dismiss usual action-novelties and stale dialog patterns you heard a million times before, choosing instead to entertain the viewer with its flamboyant, cleverly convoluted storyline. Even better: you can't even place the term "fictional" into the latter sentence, or, at least, that wouldn't cover recorded events. As for these recorded events: all should be clear in 2054, as this is the date by which the British Government will grant public access to the documents concerning this case from 1971. You either choose to wait around for that date, or, you could always follow the witty suggestion the actual bank robbers formed as a message sprayed on the wall on Baker Street:
"Let Sherlock Holmes solve this!"
Solid engagement for the eyes, definite delicacy for the mind: The Bank Job invites you to hop on that van, as there is always a free place to take.
If you enjoyed this here article, check out my comic: Planetseed
If you are to circulate magnificently pleasant vibrations: Buy me Beer
Read more!
Order a Heist! from Amazon
To say that life is among the greatest storytellers, probably would be an understatement, especially when you consider that Roger Donaldson's latest motion picture delivery to date, The Bank Job, is based on true events that took place in London, 1971.
The frame of the buildup is rather intriguing: the British Government finds itself in an untenable situation, being incapable to arrest a certain individual without exposing the United Kingdom to grave developments that could lead to a revolt. As you may have guessed, this particular person maintains very effective blackmail potential over the British Royalty, and, as such: over its Government, as well.
Information suggests that the blackmailer, Mr. X probably keeps the blackmail photos in a safe deposit box of Lloyd's Bank, Baker Street, but the Royalty would never make a move for them, as they don't even possess knowledge of those outrageous photos, even worse: these highest circles probably would collapse on themselves if they had. The Intelligence Agency comes up with a plan. What they want to do is to set up a bank robbery themselves, so the hired/involved villains could take all the loot they want in exchange for the "Royal Portfolio", taken from the safe deposit box of Mr. X.
If this sounds implausible already, then those past real life events are eager to amaze the viewer further on: the robbery is indeed instigated by the Government, but a radio amateur accidentally intercepts the transmissions taking place between the robbers. He informs the Police of his continuous findings, and, no further emphasis is needed: a quite convoluted-, nevertheless absolutely logical narrative carnage of intersecting, overlapping agendas begins.
The fabric of the movie is that of a matrix of organic relations between interests, in which each one of these parties must figure out what-, and how to react, and, most importantly: towards who to react. Roger Donaldson creates and offers quality screentime in this dualistic narrative effort. A massive, initial portion is dedicated to the presentation of the arrangements taking place before the heist, yet the robbers will have but a harshly limited time to resonate joy beside their suspected loot, and this is the point from which on Donaldson switches gears and pushes the pedal to the metal.
Thankfully, the film does not want to be an action flick, the real fun, and, for some degree: the real challenge here is to remain in the game without losing trace of the happenings, though worry is not necessarily to be invoked if at first you fail to set one particular aspect of the rather complex buildup in place. The work of Dick Clement and Ian La Fernais - the interpreters of these real life events - definitely deserves multiple sit-throughs.
Fortunately enough, Bank Job presents you all its considerable intrinsic values through a top notch cast, focally characterized by the key role of Jason Statham, probably one of the ten most charismatic masculine phenoms you could see on the contemporary big screen. While beautiful Saffron Burrows, the giver of the tip renders an absolutely solid performance as a female sidekick, Peter Bowles delivers a very memorable, albeit, sorrowfully not too prolonged interpretation of the head of the Intelligence Agency. No sober man would want to cross this man's path without a fake nuclear bomb in the pocket. Let it be too.
Donaldson's effort surprises consensus as a brave enough installment to dismiss usual action-novelties and stale dialog patterns you heard a million times before, choosing instead to entertain the viewer with its flamboyant, cleverly convoluted storyline. Even better: you can't even place the term "fictional" into the latter sentence, or, at least, that wouldn't cover recorded events. As for these recorded events: all should be clear in 2054, as this is the date by which the British Government will grant public access to the documents concerning this case from 1971. You either choose to wait around for that date, or, you could always follow the witty suggestion the actual bank robbers formed as a message sprayed on the wall on Baker Street:
"Let Sherlock Holmes solve this!"
Solid engagement for the eyes, definite delicacy for the mind: The Bank Job invites you to hop on that van, as there is always a free place to take.
If you enjoyed this here article, check out my comic: Planetseed
If you are to circulate magnificently pleasant vibrations: Buy me Beer
Read more!
Thursday, October 30, 2008
UFC 90 Anderson Silva VS Patrick Cote
Introduction
Mixed martial arts clearly became a significant form of both mass entertainment and - as Bruce Lee put it - an expression of the human body, the latter being, no doubt, the original field of operation of these ancient traditions, now living and breathing through competitive events around the world. Though many may consider men who enter the proving grounds little more than hired human pitbulls to rip each other apart for hard cash and radical amusement, I tend to utterly reject this rudimentary view, concluding that professional level mma is the combat of highly disciplined human spirits, opposing each other for the duration of the bout, probably ending up as unified in the process as we could conceive, simply through their magnificent shared experience of being in a cage where the damage one suffers is the wit one failed to exhibit. That is how, in my opinion, the mma fighter fights against herself/himself.
Japanese people compete to gain an insight of their own current abilities through the collision process of their skills with that of other's. To me, the ultimately glorious moments of mixed martial arts are not of those of KOs and submissions. They are of those of hugging the formal rival at the end of the bout, circulating the most honest, uncompromised, pure respect each fighter deserves simply by stating themselves on the proving grounds, regardless of the results. The ensuing peace between fighters after a good collision is such a palpable, legit sensation that it never got old so far - and won't ever will.
This here is a review of the UFC event UFC 90 Silva VS Cote, time to punch that Read more button, baby!
Introductory thoughts about the more significant lineups
Logically enough, consensus reality is yet to reveal a warrior who puts an end to the rigorous reign of current UFC Middleweight Champion Anderson Silva. How- and where logic comes in? Easy: if there would have been such man already - then Anderson wouldn't be the Champion - see? But he IS, and he certainly looks at the top of the mma game. The Spider is unstoppable ever since his Octagon debut, now giving a title defense to a passionate possessor of Thermonuclear Fists, a warrior who established himself as a force you got to reckon with via exceptional Octagon performances characterized by tremendous punishment resistance and steep willingness to knock rivals silly with one punch stopping power. This particular individual, Canadian crusher Patrick Cote earned himself the right of going for the belt by scoring a decision win over Ricardo Almeida in UFC 86 Jackson vs Griffin, arriving to his greatest challenge to date as a man who have never tasted the power of knockout yet.
Josh Koscheck is coming back to the wars, too. Relentless demonstrator, merciless carrier of the blond alien lifeform some - meaning: less paranoid persons - do fall in for, mistaking it for hair, Josh loves being hated by the audience, and he is considered by many as one of the best wrestler in the UFC. Amidst these many, you will find UFC President Dana White, as well. THAT man surely knows a good wrestler when he sees one. When Koscheck is not busy deconstructing Chris Lytle's uppermost organic features like he was back in UFC 86 Jackson vs Griffin, then he is perfecting his mma skillset with peculiar emphasis placed on his standup capabilities. Today he steps in on short notice as a substitute to Diego Sanchez, a man he handed his first loss to, also a man who was supposed to meet Thiago "The Pitbull" Alves, A.K.A. Epic Destroyer of Matt Hughes.
Sean Sherk vs Tyson Griffin
Given the similar fighting styles these two competitors do sport, a well balanced collision of decent pace and passionate exchanges should occur, and, this is a notion even reality considers as the most probable possibility by the night. Sherk looks more convincing at the respective ends of every single rounds, and, since this one goes for the distance, an eventual decision win is awarded for the Muscle Shark, setting him on a trail that might lead him back to title contention. A former Lightweight Champion of the UFC, Sean wasn't successful at reclaiming the belt against The Prodigy BJ Penn in UFC 84 Ill Will, yet the Sherk you saw today is a Sherk you would keenly put in front of The Little Buddha again. You know why? Easy: to see what happens, yes?
Fabricio Werdum vs Junior dos Santos
I had zero, zero and a little bit of zero idea yet about who Junior dos Santos is, though, from now on I will remember him thoroughly, no doubt. This here well composed Brazilian puts Pride! veteran Fabricio Werdum away in 80 seconds, scoring a remarkable knockout victory over the experienced contestant. To this day, I fail utterly- and epicly at my attempts of being impressed by the performances of Werdum that I have seen so far. To me, he seems a safety player, I hardly notice him in the Octagon, thus I confess that I feel rather satisfied by his devastating upset loss, and certainly hope to see a NEW Werdum with a hungrier, meaner, badder look in his eyes next time. Please just don't post this review to him AND me along with it before his next match. Kudos to Junior dos Santos for upsetting an individual, who, I think, wore a bigger head than he deserved by the night. Hey, you know what? Don't EVER tell Werdum about this review. My more serious stance though remains of hopes- and desires about seeing a Fabricio perform who wants to STATE something, and is about to state that radically. Looking forward to witnessing both fighters again.
Gray Maynard vs Rich Clementi
UFC Veteran Rich Clementi likes to break the will of the opposition, while his current opponent, Gray Maynard was pretty good so far at exhibiting JUST that. Gray already have built a solid reputation for himself by delivering convince power in the recent smaller events of the UFC, called the Fight Nights. Maynard handed Frank Edgar his first professional loss - practice how tenderly you can say: "professional loss" - now getting a Main Card debut - as results of rearrangements - against this here seasoned Veteran Rich "No Love" Clementi. Practice how tenderly you can say: "No Love."
The story of the fight is Maynard's ability to take Rich down every time he - Gray - wishes to, resulting in highly technical ground periods that may give you more and more solid impressions of a series of intensive stalemates. Personally, I think the match had an interesting character to it, seeing how effective Maynard was at denying chances from the opposition of expressing itself, though he wasn't exactly going for the kill, either. The Bully - that's the nickname of Gray - sure did bully Rich's sitorgan around on the ground for three stable rounds, and that is something that earned him the well deserved W. We may want to see this Maynard character against top level opposition - not that Clementi isn't that, but maybe he needed to eat this loss in to turn truly top level. The Bully harvests intense BOO! from the audience, the majority probably would prefer to see an Octagon painted in the tones of red. Maynard apologizes for not delivering a knockout. Apology naturally accepted as far as I am concerned, after all: an apology that you need to ask for is a compromised one, anyway. And I loved the match, too, which I do apologize for.
Thiago Alves vs Josh Koscheck
Watching this collision is a memorable experience as this one will ask you whether you see Thiago Alves winning this fight - or do you see Koscheck losing it? This is the first time I saw Josh Koscheck in grave danger, - and it was HIM being in it, not me, either - even on multiple occasions. Alves' s strikes have serious power and pixel precision, a left hook buckles Koscheck to the ground - why, what were you thinking? - who though is saved by the considerable punishment resistance he wasn't forced to rely on lately. Or at least not publicly. Or at least I wasn't aware. Or at least you're getting my point, right? Alves wants this win more aggressively than Koscheck does, commanding the seasoned Professional to take the role of the Intensely Stalked, while Thiago himself demonstrates keen readiness to showcase his stiff mma skills as your utterly solid, relentless Stalker. A massive portion of the bout is characterized by a series of highly effective leg kicks thrown by the Pitbull, softening up Koscheck enough to do battle against a - shall we say? - puzzled- and relatively frustrated variant of the same fighter.
Koscheck does not look good getting owned, and he knows that. He expresses in the prefight interview that he hates to lose more than he loves to win. This here loss he suffers is a precisely- and thoroughly administered one though, Alves triumphs in a clear, smooth, decisive fashion. A trite, and nevertheless very wise - bleheh! - notion of mixed martial arts is that the mere impact of a serious loss may prove to be a radically influential factor on a warrior's career. Koscheck's previous loss was against current UFC Welterweight Champion Georges St. Pierre. That particular loss made an evidently better fighter of him, - of Josh, though maybe of GSP, as well - now we are to see if he can undergo Yet Another Transcendental Experience and come back after this loss to Thiago Alves as a better man.
As for the Pitbull: this dude has my pure attention and admiration ever since he destroyed Matt "I got more knowledge than him" Hughes. Now Alves have spoken more lines in the language of sober ferocity, stating that he is not just ready, but should be put into veerry warm title contention as soon as possible. If you say this kid isn't ready to face GSP or the Little Buddha: then you are a representative of his insurance company. I know this joke did not work. Not on me, at least. Sorry, sometimes you need to offer jokes that do not work, so a consecutive one, which though has a chance to harvest honest laughs, might propel you into amazing distances - worry about the direction at the proper time, at the proper place. And NEVER offer the working joke when they anticipate you to! See? SEE??!!
Anderson Silva vs Patrick Cote
The main event of the night had a very tense, and, as such: evidently pleasant character to it. The exquisitely beatiful feeling out process naturally invites a small minority - deliberate redundancy - to resonate their private misery by reciting the consensus mantra of it, but the Champion commands them to switch emotional channels once he demonstrates his trademark explosiveness on Cote's amazing blocking skillset! To be precise: the Canadian is brave enough to defend a stupendous flying knee with his nose! I always liked Cote, now my admiration increased even further, as this man surely has a granite chin attached to a gameplan, let alone the two solid Thermonuclear Fists to back those up with. Unfortunately, these two great athletes did not reach the conclusion their lineup already deserved by he night. Following two suspenseful rounds in which both Cote and Silva exhibit a willingness to unleash intense assaults of considerable risk factor, they do remain deeply dedicated to conserve energy to the later periods, too.
The Canadian starts to write history: he takes the Champion to the third round, an accomplishment on its own, as Silva never entered the third period before since his UFC days. This is something that even the fabric of reality must give a reaction to - let alone the right knee of Thermonuclear Fist Patrick Cote. Unfortunately, an old injury decides to show its hideous face around, putting an immediate end to this contest. You can see Cote's right knee pop as he jumps on his feet. The fighters, the audience, the Joe Rogan and the reviewer who writes this are all disappointed. But none of us shall be: the match had such evidently promising qualities that it will be re-organized again, it is, if I am not mistaken, official. I read at the absolutely übertacular mma site Sherdog that Anderson Silva is targeted by the UFC to collide against Chuck Liddell. Hmmmm, even a HMMMMMMMMM! A clever decision by the organization, and here is why: defeating Anderson Silva is the most effective, most convincing option Liddell may take the position he was looking quite good at with, that being: the image of The Iceman who fights on an entirely different vibration level than the casual(ty) mortal does, thus, the Iceman destroys your ass if you do not step away. Funny part is: that there is no funny part. I'm a huge Chuck fan, and I think he was looking very good with this image. Hell, he was looking so good with it that Rashad Evans himself did not believe that he could knock Chuck the BEEP! out, and, when he did, poor dude - Rashad - almost felt sorry- and embarrassed about his stupendous accomplishment. "Sorry guys, I know I shouldn't have done that."
Of the remaining bouts, I did not bear much interest, therefore I wrap this up, having the focal points of the night accounted on. Hope you had a fine evening and found the review useful - thank you for reading it, and see you next time.
If you enjoyed this here article, check out my comic: Planetseed
If you are to circulate magnificently pleasant vibrations: Buy me Beer
Read more!
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Righteous Kill
Radical Liberty
Order High Profile Morale! from Amazon
Director of Righteous Kill, Jon Avnet is coming back to you shortly after he delivered 88 Minutes, the biggest mistake Al Pacino ever committed so far. Giving his face and name to that movie was a shocking development in the fabric of the known Universe, also it was one by which sanity performed an almost fatal illegal operation, thus a restart was unavoidable.
Now amazing Jon Avnet convinces yet another Big Gun to star in his latest, and - logically - freshest direction along with Al Pacino, who decides to stuck around to see if he can erase THAT 88 Minutes from his mind. Certainly you could help us doing the same, Al. If I recall correctly, Robert De Niro had/has a reputation of never turning down a role he is asked to play, either. He certainly had some shocking deliveries, like Showtime, where Eddie Murphy and him were supposed to be funny for 90 minutes. Thank the Upper Heavens it wasn't 88, though.
Fortunately, the results of De Niro and Pacino teaming up again since times immemorial makes for a solid crime story, with stable elements of murder mystery added to it. Many do claim that Righteous Kill writer Russell Gewirtz redefined the term: predictability with his work, but I tend to disagree: Gewirtz's narrative actually has a subtly playful fabric to it. Surely, you can announce yourself the Bad Enough Dude if you rip it apart, yet the plot works quite fluently if you let it to, dismissing the constant urge of thinking about where it might unravel to.
According to observations, no one, or at least very few is getting any younger, those of the latter class even seem to choose to stay away from showing themselves around for too long. The days by which De Niro and, particularly Pacino, could deliver credible action-oriented roles, are numbered. De Niro still has- and always will have the 1976 Taxi Driver Psychopath in himself, that adds an ageless quality to his persona, Al, on the other hand, lives- and acts on the respective shadows of his tremendous charm and passion, similarly timeless qualities that would be still present, in case Al wouldn't spend most of his time making everybody sure that they are still present.
Mannerisms are noticeable in Righteous Kill, but, you know what? I don't mind at all, I love to see Pacino and De Niro demonstrating the "best mannerisms" they think they possess. After all, why show a bad one of those, especially with millions of people watching. Fortunately, the script is aware- and fluent enough to offer relevant dialog work and corresponding screentime for both of these actor giants, while the supportive roles of Carla Gugino and popular/notorious American rapper 50 Cent are of further significance. Carla Gugino is an eloquent lady in real life, something that does not prevent her from committing brutal moments of overacting in this particular motion picture. At least this gives you something to remember her by. 50 Cent is great, since the character he plays is absolutely compatible with the Hip Hop culture 50 Cent is an essential part- and even noted representative of. Human Bull Brian Dennehy will be here, as well, to deliver his trademark Don't Even Try To Get Wise With Me, Boy! look. Here it is, as it is appearing in Righteous Kill:
Sorry, wrong order. This is the
- You Trying To Tell ME About Proper Roastbeef, Boy?
look. Let's try this one more time:
- Don't Even Try To Get Wise With Me, Boy!
Thank you Brian, you still have it, man! Sometimes the story is present in a movie only to make you/let you wonder where it is hiding. Fortunately, it plays an essential role in Righteous Kill. The buildup revolves around two cops, yet, one of them has a tendency of losing it, more precisely: he sometimes loses it, and loves losing it. Righteous Kill shares primal similarities with the classic movie Seven and its now-myriad variants.
The mutual prime element of these films are the mysterious punisher character who ruthlessly regulates sinner- or hedonistic butts according to the standards of a - given or invented - moral code. The nice thing about standards is that you can find one behind every single bush you encounter. The narrative here is quite similar. Righteous Kill focuses on a couple of crimes and their - closely - related criminals, whom, according to the punisher character, did not get satisfactory sentences for their misdeeds. The proper sentence the punisher cop is really fond- and keen at giving is: death, naturally. But not naturally.
Righteous Kill bears similarities with the great series Dexter, as well. The serial killer protagonist of the buildup in question needs to kill to satisfy his endless urge to do so. As Japanese people say: to live, you need to eat. So you eat, to keep on living. As with Dexter: to live, he needs to kill. So he kills to keep on living.
The peak sequences of Righteous Kill are very precious, but also are very short. Not a factor to blame the movie with, though. Their shortness is absolutely acceptable, even fruity, as their abruptness delivers an extra field of operation, making you realize that you just witnessed how the former dilemma of a lifetime informs you about having found the darkest answers. Having found the darkest ones - and loving them. You know what makes the darkest answer easy to spot? They are the ones that are frighteningly logical, and the punisher cop will paint HIS answers frighteningly logical, as well.
This protagonist character of Righteous Kill faces with the dilemma of how to handle his inner sense of justice when he sees it being totally ignored. The cop expresses that he always loved to kick the ass of rapists, bullies, video game designers and the likes, and he never could get away with seeing THEM getting away. Two options are given: first, be the good guy all the while, and see what THAT reality collides you with at the end of the line. Refused to take a peek? The punisher cop will tell you what prize is up to you: a handshake from the Mayor and your name engraved in a **** silver placket. The punisher cop refures to thread along this path. He chose to create a reality that offers much more satisfactory rewards than that - but all decisions come with a price.
In order to make this reality effective, the punisher cop must claim the radical liberty to take the position of one who properly judges and ruthlessly administers. Once again: the punisher cop is being asked how to handle his inner sense of justice when he sees it being totally ignored. The answer is to serve it anyway.
- Hey... hey... just... like... once, you know?
- .... what do you mean... just...o...once.....
If you enjoyed this here article, check out my comic: Planetseed
If you are to circulate magnificently pleasant vibrations: Buy me Beer
Read more!
Order High Profile Morale! from Amazon
Director of Righteous Kill, Jon Avnet is coming back to you shortly after he delivered 88 Minutes, the biggest mistake Al Pacino ever committed so far. Giving his face and name to that movie was a shocking development in the fabric of the known Universe, also it was one by which sanity performed an almost fatal illegal operation, thus a restart was unavoidable.
Now amazing Jon Avnet convinces yet another Big Gun to star in his latest, and - logically - freshest direction along with Al Pacino, who decides to stuck around to see if he can erase THAT 88 Minutes from his mind. Certainly you could help us doing the same, Al. If I recall correctly, Robert De Niro had/has a reputation of never turning down a role he is asked to play, either. He certainly had some shocking deliveries, like Showtime, where Eddie Murphy and him were supposed to be funny for 90 minutes. Thank the Upper Heavens it wasn't 88, though.
Fortunately, the results of De Niro and Pacino teaming up again since times immemorial makes for a solid crime story, with stable elements of murder mystery added to it. Many do claim that Righteous Kill writer Russell Gewirtz redefined the term: predictability with his work, but I tend to disagree: Gewirtz's narrative actually has a subtly playful fabric to it. Surely, you can announce yourself the Bad Enough Dude if you rip it apart, yet the plot works quite fluently if you let it to, dismissing the constant urge of thinking about where it might unravel to.
According to observations, no one, or at least very few is getting any younger, those of the latter class even seem to choose to stay away from showing themselves around for too long. The days by which De Niro and, particularly Pacino, could deliver credible action-oriented roles, are numbered. De Niro still has- and always will have the 1976 Taxi Driver Psychopath in himself, that adds an ageless quality to his persona, Al, on the other hand, lives- and acts on the respective shadows of his tremendous charm and passion, similarly timeless qualities that would be still present, in case Al wouldn't spend most of his time making everybody sure that they are still present.
Mannerisms are noticeable in Righteous Kill, but, you know what? I don't mind at all, I love to see Pacino and De Niro demonstrating the "best mannerisms" they think they possess. After all, why show a bad one of those, especially with millions of people watching. Fortunately, the script is aware- and fluent enough to offer relevant dialog work and corresponding screentime for both of these actor giants, while the supportive roles of Carla Gugino and popular/notorious American rapper 50 Cent are of further significance. Carla Gugino is an eloquent lady in real life, something that does not prevent her from committing brutal moments of overacting in this particular motion picture. At least this gives you something to remember her by. 50 Cent is great, since the character he plays is absolutely compatible with the Hip Hop culture 50 Cent is an essential part- and even noted representative of. Human Bull Brian Dennehy will be here, as well, to deliver his trademark Don't Even Try To Get Wise With Me, Boy! look. Here it is, as it is appearing in Righteous Kill:
Sorry, wrong order. This is the
- You Trying To Tell ME About Proper Roastbeef, Boy?
look. Let's try this one more time:
- Don't Even Try To Get Wise With Me, Boy!
Thank you Brian, you still have it, man! Sometimes the story is present in a movie only to make you/let you wonder where it is hiding. Fortunately, it plays an essential role in Righteous Kill. The buildup revolves around two cops, yet, one of them has a tendency of losing it, more precisely: he sometimes loses it, and loves losing it. Righteous Kill shares primal similarities with the classic movie Seven and its now-myriad variants.
The mutual prime element of these films are the mysterious punisher character who ruthlessly regulates sinner- or hedonistic butts according to the standards of a - given or invented - moral code. The nice thing about standards is that you can find one behind every single bush you encounter. The narrative here is quite similar. Righteous Kill focuses on a couple of crimes and their - closely - related criminals, whom, according to the punisher character, did not get satisfactory sentences for their misdeeds. The proper sentence the punisher cop is really fond- and keen at giving is: death, naturally. But not naturally.
Righteous Kill bears similarities with the great series Dexter, as well. The serial killer protagonist of the buildup in question needs to kill to satisfy his endless urge to do so. As Japanese people say: to live, you need to eat. So you eat, to keep on living. As with Dexter: to live, he needs to kill. So he kills to keep on living.
The peak sequences of Righteous Kill are very precious, but also are very short. Not a factor to blame the movie with, though. Their shortness is absolutely acceptable, even fruity, as their abruptness delivers an extra field of operation, making you realize that you just witnessed how the former dilemma of a lifetime informs you about having found the darkest answers. Having found the darkest ones - and loving them. You know what makes the darkest answer easy to spot? They are the ones that are frighteningly logical, and the punisher cop will paint HIS answers frighteningly logical, as well.
This protagonist character of Righteous Kill faces with the dilemma of how to handle his inner sense of justice when he sees it being totally ignored. The cop expresses that he always loved to kick the ass of rapists, bullies, video game designers and the likes, and he never could get away with seeing THEM getting away. Two options are given: first, be the good guy all the while, and see what THAT reality collides you with at the end of the line. Refused to take a peek? The punisher cop will tell you what prize is up to you: a handshake from the Mayor and your name engraved in a **** silver placket. The punisher cop refures to thread along this path. He chose to create a reality that offers much more satisfactory rewards than that - but all decisions come with a price.
In order to make this reality effective, the punisher cop must claim the radical liberty to take the position of one who properly judges and ruthlessly administers. Once again: the punisher cop is being asked how to handle his inner sense of justice when he sees it being totally ignored. The answer is to serve it anyway.
- Hey... hey... just... like... once, you know?
- .... what do you mean... just...o...once.....
If you enjoyed this here article, check out my comic: Planetseed
If you are to circulate magnificently pleasant vibrations: Buy me Beer
Read more!
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
UFC 89 Bisping VS Leben review
Introduction
Mixed martial arts clearly became a significant form of both mass entertainment and - as Bruce Lee put it - an expression of the human body, the latter being, no doubt, the original field of operation of these ancient traditions, now living and breathing through competitive events around the world. Though many may consider men who enter the proving grounds little more than hired human pitbulls to rip each other apart for hard cash and radical amusement, I tend to utterly reject this rudimentary view, concluding that professional level mma is the combat of highly disciplined human spirits, opposing each other for the duration of the bout, probably ending up as unified in the process as we could conceive, simply through their magnificent shared experience of being in a cage where the damage one suffers is the wit one failed to exhibit. That is how, in my opinion, the mma fighter fights against herself/himself.
Japanese people compete to gain an insight of their own current abilities through the collision process of their skills with that of other's. To me, the ultimately glorious moments of mixed martial arts are not of those of KOs and submissions. They are of those of hugging the formal rival at the end of the bout, circulating the most honest, uncompromised, pure respect each fighter deserves simply by stating themselves on the proving grounds, regardless of the results. The ensuing peace between fighters after a good collision is such a palpable, legit sensation that it never got old so far - and won't ever will.
This here is a review of the UFC event UFC 89 Bisping VS Leben, time to punch that Read more button, baby!
Introductory thoughts about the more significant lineups
Human transformation is one of the most fruity things a human can go through - assuming it points to- and even progresses along the positive direction. Chris Leben is after a radical positive transformation, one which you can not miss out on. The heavy hitter Ultimate Fighter contestant who had a deeply intimate relation with many advanced forms of body abuse: punished all in the Octagon with the dynamite Nature gave him as a left hand. It was current UFC Middleweight Champion Anderson Silva who stopped The Crippler, and, as Chris expresses, this loss was a life changing experience to him. Meaning Leben.
Reciting this, and seeing that it was indeed, are two completely different things. Leben comes to you as a sober, well composed individual, letting you, inviting you to appreciate the mere path he took to reach to this point. Not everybody is able to do this. Some do fall tremendously after a loss, sustaining damage that might never let one to heal completely. Sad, yes? Veeery. It's always nice to see this notion being laughed at by an individual who summoned proper power to better herself/himself, though. It is "himself" time now.
Leben is facing Michael Bisping, the number 1 mma Favorite of Britain, and, it must be rightfully so - and we know that it is, anyway - because the Brits love a good fight, and they know when they see one. Bisping never looked as he would be in a dire despair on the Proving Ground, this fighter definitely has an aura of "semi-invincibility" around him by the day, sewn out of charisma, skills, and the undeniable fact that all, cite that I, herein: all is yet to see a Michael Bisping whose hive is in fatal danger in the Octagon. Leben assures us that Michael did not see a striker of his caliber yet, while Bisping tells us that he has more to offer in more areas than Chris does.
The next focal attraction of the night is Keith Jardine taking on Brandon Vera. Well, some claim you can not open a debate about tastes and preferences, I think this is an utterly false notion. Let us notice: debates about tastes and preferences often do yield the most fruity of results. Or bloody. But those debaters do not get the point at all. While it would be nice to state that one does not have the right to eradicate any opinion, including this one, question also forms if one have the right to state an opinion that deliberately lacks all flexibility. Such an opinion surely could be incapable to count with certain information that is about to ensue yet by the birth of the opinion. Yes?
Question forms: where am I going with this?
I'll tell you: I'm going to this to the Octagon phenomena of Brandon Vera. I don't know if his style is my cup of tea. But, since I do ask this question, it's probably not. The dude seems to have a hard time recently of deciding which weight class he should fight in, then, when he decides, he comes out, assuring us that he will shatter all conceptions we ever thought to be true about mma, then, he puts up such a
booooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooring
fight with Tim "I am not afraid of Fedor" Sylvia that the bout in question forces you to write down the Top 5 Things More Boring Than Watching This Fight Is, being sure that those mental constructs are very rare, and very precious ones to be greeted by. Therefore, should be recorded and remembered. So, Brandon Vera, who, at least reminds me of Sagat from Street Fighter II, always comes out to redefine mma, yet goes away recently with redefining excuses. He always has two of those, each hidden carefully under the gloves. "Yes, I broke my hand and that kind of changed my gameplan, and yes, I was totally OK when Werdum sat on my chest and started to throw bombs to smash my face in while I was totally helpless, but the stupid Ref interfered at the THIRD bomb and didn't want to see my nose being crushed beyond recognition, MAN, are! you! kidding! me!"
One dude I never heard an excuse, even a slight reminder of those from, and I serioulsy doubt if someone ever will, is: Keith Jardine. Whow, I love this fighter. He is indeed a mean apparition, he totally could be the definite role model for a dark fantasy video game boss character, wouldn't you agree? A very humble and calm person in real life, the former debt collector - imagine the delight when he knocks on your door - is the only warrior who defeated two UFC Champions of the recent era. Indeed, he holds wins over Chuck Liddell and current Champion Forrest Griffin. Jardine's career is a roller coaster so far: he gets temporarily murdered by Wanderlei Silva in UFC 84 Ill WIll, and now he returns to eradicate the current hopes of Brandon Vera of establishing himself as Za! Force! to Rekonvid!
Marcus Davis vs Paul Kelly
Hardened veteran Marcus Davis is coming off of a loss against Mike Swick, - see the account of the aforementioned performance taking place in UFC 85 Bedlam: < - (t)here - thus the Irish Handgrenade arrives to the Birmingham Octagon with sober hopes- and related determination to administer a thorough lesson for a younger and very powerful talent of mma in the persona of local favorite, Paul Kelly. The evenly placed start period, characterized by cautious respect from Kelly's- and sobriety of Davis's part is about to get tensely, welcomely prolonged during the entire first round. Marcus exhibits crystal clear command of safe distance which he can offer major resistance from, eventually luring the younger contender to make a takedown attempt in the second round. Davis's ground techniques are not of those you want to regard as jokes that no one ever heard: the Handgrenade sinks both arms in at the fence and scores a submission victory over Kelly: guillotine at its best and worst, depending on which perspective you witness its radical unraveling from.
Paul Taylor vs Chris Lytle
Fortunately, Chris Lytle could keep the same head Josh Koscheck have blooded up in UFC 86 Jackson VS Griffin. Lytle holds a stagnate, nevertheless significant position in the UFC, similar to that of Jason McDonald's: whenever some tremendous talent seems to rise with intent to resonate an mma verdict of primal significance, it is a safe bet to throw that particular singer to the lair of Chris Lytle or Jason MacDonald's. Fate did ot yet decide whether to make a stable filler fighter from Lytle, or to make true superstar out of him. Chris rendered a very stable performance against Matt Serra in the finale of the 4th season of the Ultimate Fighter TV Show, his "loss" is but the result of his marketability: Serra and his cinematic charisma is much easily marketable, so, in such a close fight as the two of them did put up, it was no question who should and who MUST go away with the W when such an even match is delivered.
Paul Taylor is a crazy British man who runs on crystal clear energy and expresses its tremendous flow in furios pace and a constant willigness to exchange without breaks - but, not necessarily without breaks. Taylor made one huge slugfest with fellow English gent Paul Kelly whom we have just seen getting submitted by Davis. Though Kelly and Taylor delivered a very memorable tempo in UFC 80 Rapid Fire, one of them had to lose by the night, so, one of them did, indeed. Coming off of a win he harvested in UFC 85, Taylor is on the not too secretive stalk to claim precious trophy in front of the home audience, as a win over Lytle is a huge accomplishment for every warrior on the Faceth of this Eartheth! Sorry, could not resist. I mean: I could, but changed my mindeth and hath committedhath it anyway.
Taylor and Lytle have a mutual, firm determination of presenting the fight of the night for the audience, and let me tell you that this cited determination is of the eloquent caliber, and is forged out of pure, rampant relentlessness waiting to be precisely expressed by both of these contenders. Scarce are the times when a furious starting pace decides to stuck around to characterize the whole bout, yet, this is the case herein. Lytle and Taylor came here to wage a toe to toe war with hands shapeshifted to the forms of blazing guns with a seemingly unlimited supply of ammo. No feeling out process here, more precisely: the entire bout is a feeling out process, a series of back-and forth questions and answers, yet the lingo is superintense right from the beginning. This massively standup oriented quality collision is but occasionaly interrupted by brief periods of takedown attempts or clinch assaults at the fence. Both warriors prove to be possessors of excellent chins - one per kopf of course - and fists, - two per kopf of course - in addition, combine the mutual love of fighting that connects these great warriors, and you get as strong of a candidate for a fight of the night as you ever hoped to get a thorough look at, indeed. The match goes to the distance, filling out its glorious 15th minute, in which Taylor manages to present exceptional effectiveness. It's not enough to take Lytle apart, but gives you the definite impressions that he managed to leave a strong stimuli on the retinas of the Judges. Not so. Chris Lytle goes away with the decision W. Both warriors seem a bit puzzled by this outcome, but, most importantly: they show respect: intact and immaculate to each other after the fight, not if this particular respect would spend a split second in absence when they fought. Quite the contrary: this is the tremendous feeling that fuels this fight to be as good as it is. A classic collision, not much doubt about that.
Sokoudjou vs Luis Cane
Brazilian heavy hand Luis Cane is no longer a newcomer to the UCF Octagon, you could see his ass being disqualified in UFC 79 Nemesis due to an illegal knee on the downed opponent. Cane returned in UFC 85 Bedlam and definitely destroyed a relatively reckless Jason Lambert. Luis is about to face Sokoudjou, the African Assassin, someone whom we have seen in UFC 79 Nemesis, and he lost by that particular night, too - only that he did it to - hold on to your chair - another man. Sokoudjou lost to Lyoto Machida, to be exact. Machida's question after the fight remains a classic. "I beat the Alaskan Assassin. I beat the African Assassin. What other Assassin do I have to beat to get a title shot?"
Sokoudjou comes out on fire - not literally, but metaphorically - and maintains dominant Octagon presence throughout the feeling out process in which he offers primal aggression, placing plenty of kicks and shots on Cane's body. Though the African Assassin starts with tremendous readiness to deal quality damage, Luis is prepared enough to take what Sokoudjou has to offer. These are the moments by which Joe Rogan gives us a quite cunning notion, pointing out that surely there are fighters with blatant power in theirs legs and fists, yet, as soon as such a fighter meets with someone who is ready and able to take their BEST shots - that's when the nice mindgame starts which will tell us a whole lot about that particular fighter. Not to mention how much it will tell for the fighter itself - AND his opponent.
By the second round you realize that Luis Cane played a very sober game here: Sokoudjou comes in much less aggressive probably due to the relative exhaustion he got into throughout the rigorous pace of the first round. His actions and attacks are still very dangerous, and he can still demonstrate explosiveness, yet a moment comes by to greet a Luis Cane who is about to take the initiative. Some rather precise kicks to the body and vicious knees on the face are offered by the Brazilian, and, prior you could say "Coal mining is a wonderful thing, Father, but this is something that you will NEVER understand", Sokoudjou goes down from a two punch combo hit, while the next moment, naturally finds him being ruthlessly assaulted by Luis, punching out a TKO on the African Assassin at the fence.
Great performance by both fighters. Sokoudjou met a guy who was prepared enough to finely get along even with the most ruthless African Assassin to date, and, luring this dangerous Predator unto deep waters by the second round: the Brazilian capitalized on Sokoudjou's emptying gas tank via tremendous wits and an impressive display of powerful precision. A focal moment of the night.
Shane Carwin vs Neil Wain
Shane Carwin comes to this bout with an immaculate record that - logically enough - holds no loss, and, making supershort work of bulky Britain warrior Neil Wain: Shane Carwin leaves this bout with his immaculate record intact- and growing. This massive man handles matters really fast so far: his latest match prior to this in UFC 84 Ill Will never saw a second minute. In fact, out of the 10 professional mma matches Carwin won so far - only one, cite that I, herein: 1 managed to get past the second minute. Dudette is an animal, got to keep an eye on him, hope he does not mind the slime.
Keith Jardine vs Brandon Vera
An interesting feeling out process to characterize this one - interesting in the regard that Jardine decides to take Vera down right after the first moment and its inherent introductory exchanges of mild efficiency did occur. Brandon connects with some elbows from the ground, one of those opens a cut on the top of Jardine's head. While the brief ground period to characterize the middle sequence of this round does not yield particular results, its ending certainly delivers pretty much cinematic drama, as Brandon rocks Keith with an uppercut, but Keith answers and buckles Vera while he - Keith - is on the recover run. The Dean of Mean offers some rather good quality fence assault, but, good quality fence assault often gains the attention of higher powers that will make attacker and attacked move in such improbable manners that no shots will connect, no matter how fluently - SIC! - they should. Check the final seconds of the first round - Keith executes amazing combos on the naked air, though, if he would do the same on Brandon - then surely we would have had the Epic Victor! here.
From this point on, the match takes on a stable, consistent character by which you will notice that Keith hardly throws his leg kicks around. This is the result of Brandon connecting with a rather funky push-kick on Keith's knee, which you will see - the kick, not the knee, more precisely: both - in the replay. That does not look good for sure. In this here fight, Keith probably has a battered knee to wage this war on with. The noted, consistent character of the bout outlines, then, eventually thoroughly delivers a stable thrill factor which though fails to push the meter to the Epic Excitement! region this time around. Keith wins the bout with a split decision.
Quite admirable performance by both fighters, we got to see though that it was more of the match of getting out of harm's way than the match of defining the path harm might be invited along. Keith and Brandon aren't destined - dare we say: designed? - to deliver together what we want, that being: Epic Battles. This is not to say that the match was not good though - it's just that you need to say that it wasn't.
Michael Bisping vs Chris Leben
Chris Leben propels himself forward for 15 minutes of the 15 minutes the bout is scheduled for, creating a pleasant possibility for Bisping to retreat constantly and poke precise counters while on the evade run. Leben's epic left surely has its dangerous moments in this impressive collision, even better: we got to admire The Crippler's readiness to come forward no matter what: by some rather passionate peak sessions, you will even see Leben completely throwing away his defenses, provoking Bisping to strike his "naked" face. If you do not count a coating of blood on the face as some sort of appliance, that is. Bisping is too good of a fighter to being defeated by a strategy that builds solely on the urge to unleash harm, regardless how prepared the harmer is to eat in all the punches and kicks rolling in harm's way.
While Leben was truly super-integral in this bout, I have the impression that Chris's tremendous desire to knock Bisping out took dimension away from his - Chris's - game, a circumstance to claim a toll on The Crippler's current performance and the resultant record. Leben behaves very classy after the bout, addressing the Birmingham audience via an impromptu minishow with an intact message in it. Since this kind of expressed- and well channeled Octagon charisma is the trait to separate stock fighter - what a hideous expression, heh, sorry about that - from the Fighter You Will Remember, we can be sure that Leben will be back. Bisping defends his home turf in a quite impressive manner, there is no place to smuggle doubt through about the decision, not this time. The Count leaves the Octagon with his reputation intact- and growing, and well deservedly so, no doubt. Watch the leg kick Bisping's little son delivers on his dad's leg. The kid already has promise, don't you think?
Of the remaining bouts I did not bear much interest, therefore I wrap this up, having the focal points of the night accounted on. Hope you had a fine evening and found the review useful - thank you for reading it, and see you next time.
If you enjoyed this here article, check out my comic: Planetseed
If you are to circulate magnificently pleasant vibrations: Buy me Beer
Read more!
Monday, September 8, 2008
UFC 88 Breakthrough review
Introduction
Mixed martial arts clearly became a significant form of both mass entertainment and - as Bruce Lee put it - an expression of the human body, the latter being, no doubt, the original field of operation of these ancient traditions, now living and breathing through competitive events around the world. Though many may consider men who enter the proving grounds little more than hired human pitbulls to rip each other apart for hard cash and radical amusement, I tend to utterly reject this rudimentary view, concluding that professional level mma is the combat of highly disciplined human spirits, opposing each other for the duration of the bout, probably ending up as unified in the process as we could conceive, simply through their magnificent shared experience of being in a cage where the damage one suffers is the wit one failed to exhibit. That is how, in my opinion, the mma fighter fights against herself/himself.
Japanese people compete to gain an insight of their own current abilities through the collision process of their skills with that of other's. To me, the ultimately glorious moments of mixed martial arts are not of those of KOs and submissions. They are of those of hugging the formal rival at the end of the bout, circulating the most honest, uncompromised, pure respect each fighter deserves simply by stating themselves on the proving grounds, regardless of the results. The ensuing peace between fighters after a good collision is such a palpable, legit sensation that it never got old so far - and won't ever will.
This here is a review of the UFC event UFC 88 Breakthrough, time to punch that Read more button, baby!
Introductory thoughts about the more significant lineups
The event offers collisions with major possibilities of upsets to them, as immensely talented Underdogs do step up against accomplished veterans of supreme mma reputation and top level marketing value herein. Surely, the UFC is quite good both at spotting- and even inventing talent for the fight game, an assertion firmly supported by the impressive warrior palette the organization's very own breeding industry have created, continuing to do that as we witness the now-top level performance of the current generation.
Indeed, we do talk about the Ultimate Fighter Reality TV show. Winner of the first season of the program in question, Forrest Griffin is now the reigning Light Heavyweight Champion of the UFC, while Rashad Evans, winner of the second season is yet to find a victor over his mma skill set by this here night that invites Underdogs to deliver their Breakthrough(s). Evans is ready to face off against Chuck Liddell, who seems quite ready to "overhand-right" himself all the way to Forrest to reclaim the Light Heavyweight title, which he - Chuck - held for a neat, comfy, minor eternity. Rampage Jackson came along though, just to radically howl the impression of any neat, comfy, though well developed eternities away, an act presented through his second knockout victory over The Liddell Thing.
Well, Forrest scored both a decision win and a Belt over Rampage in the perplexedly titled UFC 86 Jackson VS Griffin event though, a night by which - according to the delicate, though rather improbable suggestion - Jackson and Griffin indeed waged war against each other. Liddell remained an evident contender nevertheless with his prestigious win over Wanderlei "The Axe Murderer" Silva in UFC 79 Nemesis, yet, evident talent both must be dealt with and be presented by a field/opportunity to truly manifest on and by - so, why not see if Rashad "Sugar" Evans can stop The Liddell Thing and emerge as Challenger against Forrest Griffin?
Rich "Ace" (Ventura) Franklin is back in town, too. He faces intact contender and fellow training partner, Matt Hamill. A win over Rich Franklin is a rare, exquisite trophy for everyone, on THIS, you should trust me. Never, never, never forget that only Anderson Silva, and, back in ancient times, Lyoto Machida could stop the former math teacher so far. The Ace always plays a very sober, "Rich"ly - SIC! -technical, and, I dare say this: even GRACEFUL game, you will hardly catch him red handed or in superaggressor mode when he performs in the Octagon. His delivery against masterful Jiu-Jitsu practitioner, Travis Luther in UFC 83 Serra VS St. Pierre 2 was - and still is - a thorough demonstration of how good and graceful the style of the Ace truly is. Did Anderson Silva beat him twice? Yes, he did. But The Spider destroys everyone ever since he is in the UFC, the antidote is yet to be researched for the lethal venom he elegantly pours and unleashes, no doubt. This is something that puts Anderson Silva waaaay above the prospects you would normally count with, and definitely not something to imply that Franklin would lack the ability to dominate warriors of absolutely top level qualities. Made sense? Is it more like - it's making it right now? Let us hope it will, once we know how the Matt Hamill VS Rich Franklin bout turned out.
Jason MacDonald vs Jason Lambert
As of today, these two Jasons both seem to fill a Gatekeeper position in the UFC. They perform greatly against newcomers, yet they often end up having a hard time when their own advancement is at stake. Notice how Jason MacDonald relates to the concept of stepping stones, and also notice the results when Jason "The Punisher" Lambert forgets about the concept of defense in order to summon Punishment. It's still impossible to dismiss Respect - Rampant when these fighters are scientifically considered, since, no matter how rhapsodic their respective careers are recently, they go out there anyway and struggle - quite literally, I suppose? - to get better, to perform better. The UFC made a sober matchup by colliding these two charismatic Gatekeeper characters, an occasion by which MacDonald proves to us that he learned to use the weapon that was unleashed on him in UFC 87 Seek and Destroy. Though even Lambert himself is able to execute a rather intact submission attempt in the first period, the bell does save MacDonald's tenacious sitorgan, thus The Athlete comes back with fierce vengeance in the second round - just to offer his own variant of the similar kind of proving ground welcoming. Rear naked choke. A successful attempt. Other than that, though: a relatively cautious and desperate bout. No wonder, since both fighter needed a win - especially The Punisher. MacDonald goes away with the W and solidifies as Gatekeeper, yet Lambert is on a losing streak now composed of no less than three consecutive losses. I certainly hope to see this fighter again soon, yet he definitely, most definitely, even mooost defffinitely needs to get his -
game
together.
Matt Brown vs Don Hyun Kim
It's hard to decide whether South Korean warrior Don Hyun Kim or his opponent, Jason Tan looked better in their fight in UFC 84 Ill WIll, and here is why: Kim unleashed twice the number of elbows that ever existed and will exist in the W.W.World, yet Jason Tan ate those in as they would have been about as hostile as a friendly tap on the shoulder. Kim starts out strong against former Ultimate Fighter contestant, Matt Brown. While the story of the first round is the South Korean's ability to maintain rather unorthodox- and effective submission attempts from similarly unorthodox positions, Matt Brown demonstrates exceptional wits and mental toughness, adjusting his gameplay of totally competent elements in a way and tempo Kim is unable to keep up to this time around, pretty much getting controlled- and stalked around by his sober, tenacious rival in the consecutive periods. Yet, at the final moments, Kim utilizes a takedown, then unleashes successful punishment via an elbow that cuts Matt up. That action itself and the consecutive attacks from the South Korean comes short of stopping power, though. A decision is formed, which, quite arguably in my opinion, goes for Kim. The audience is rather unhappy about the outcome, too. Kim gives a humble victory interview in which he practically apologizes for his current performance, while Matt Brown states that he fights for the fans, and not fur the judges, so he hopes he delivered what they wanted to see. Sure as Heaven/Hell - pick, please - he did! This is the most laughable decision I have seen so far in the UFC, I must say. It's not Kim's fault, of course. It's the fault of the judges though, and a fault of theirs, it is. Period. "."
Roan Carneiro vs Ryo Chonan
If you ever to embark on an amazing journey unto a mysterious, rectangular island with nothing but a DVD player on it that plays the UFC fight of your choice 24/7 - then this fight is the last one you want to pick. A match that remains a nice test of endurance, nevertheless. More so for you though, than for these veeery (weary?) warriors.
Thiago Tavares vs Kurt Pellegrino
Scarce are the times when you witness a truly impressive comeback in the Octagon, this particular collision delivers one for you. Though the match itself goes for the distance AND for the decision after a relatively shallow amount of peak developments, the first round leaves a rather weary Tavares on the ground: while most fighters would have had cite the
Thank you for the opportunity, I'll Come Again!,
Thiago comes back right here and right now, rendering a rather competent performance against Pellegrino, failing though to deliver significant damage to turn the tide of the collision at the end of the day. Or, even at the end of the bout, for that matter.
Nate Marquardt vs Martin Kampmann
A focal point of the night, no doubt. Exhibiting sane, well controlled, well projected and persistent aggression, Marquardt essentially outclasses Martin Kampmann this time around in a quite brief, but nevertheless very rewarding chess match. Though Kampmann is present and IS aware of what is going on, Nate simply is aware of - sorry 'bout that - what exactly Kampmann is aware of - thus forming, relying on attacks that do come out of nowhere. Every combination you can find in the book is unleashed from every angle and by every rhytmization you can think of. This here bout is a very rigorous, strict Nate Marquardt carnage that never lefts place for an answer, and here is why: the carnage never STOPS to see if an answer is imminent at the first place. Marquardt's movement and attacks are so accurate that Martin is forced to remain both in retreat- and in active defense all along. Notice the expression on Kampmann's face after the fight. It's quite easy to read. He knows perfectly well that he just took his share in a very entertaining, and, for him: very useful fight, also he faced a kind of opposition which did demand nothing less but a world class level skill set to form an escape route, or a competent answer from. The look on Kampmann's face is an acknowledgment: "I can't play this game on this level yet. Not yet." Nate Marquardt dominates via pinpoint accuracy, consorting with extremely well controlled- and well directed aggression. Short, it might be: a classic match it is, nevertheless.
Dan Henderson vs Rousimar Palhares
Rousimar Palhares is a master of Origami, yet the substance he works with is not paper, but human physical, and, probably, even mental buildup. Mma legend Dan Henderson did not have much success in the UFC lately, yet we must take into consideration that he faced Rampage Jackson and Anderson Silva - losing against them does not exactly throw you out of the mma mix. Yet a win over Hendo would instantly fly one way high in the rankings, thus Palhares, this notoriously strong and technical Jiu-Jitsu master with granite chin included - may score an upset herein.
A truly rewarding match you witness with a rather logical, healthy pace, and respective agendas to it. Hendo wants to release his notoriously effective strikes, while Palhares would keenly take the legendary warrior to the ground to present him to his sick Jiu-Jitsu arsenal. A well balanced and immensely competive meeting, Rousimar shows a rather convincing readiness to trade with Hendo in the standup with evident hopes of taking the legend to surface level. The Jiu-Jitsu practitioner eats in quite some strikes of blatant power along the way, yet manages to stay in the game, even goes for a couple of cleverly timed submission attempts. Hendo is not a new face on the ground either, though: he escapes from the about-to-get-dire situations Palhares is rather fond at offering, letting you enjoy a collision in which both fighters do exhibit a strict devotion both to their respective, preferred style of fighting AND the probable gameplay they came in with. It is Rousimar though who takes more risks. AND more punches, too. A deserved decision goes for Hendo, especially when you consider the moments he wraps the confrontation up with. Whoh! That falling-hammer punch. How come it had seemingly 0, siro, ZERO effect on the exceptional warrior Palhares is? Even Henderson delivers a friendly compliment for his prior rival, stating: "That's a hell of chin, friend!" - or something like that. Oh, and that was one hell of match, just to team this evident assertion up nicely with the quality of the chin Rousimar Palhares does sport. The dude has immense promise, as his standup looks quite inventive, brave, and, in general: much more integral than I expected it to look like.
Rich Franklin vs Matt Hamill
Rich Franklin rises. Rich Franklin shines. Pretty much this is the story of this match. He throws flamboyant, very elegant combinations all over the pla... all over the head and body, and you can see that he could do that all day long. Credit goes for Matt Hamill for staying in the game until the third round, though it is safe to say that by the time in question, his gameplay is massively reduced to integral defense work. Finally The Ace connects with a Bass Rutten style liver kick - and that particular assault is more than enough to wrap this one up. That was the beginning of an even more beautiful friendship. As friends - they came in, as rivals - they played. As good friends - they leave the proving ground. Handkerchiefs are available at the information desk, thank you, please come again.
Rashad Evans vs Chuck Liddell
There are fights that you have lost before you even started them. I already voiced this opinion in my highly paranormal Matt Serra vs GSP 2 review, yet this particular night takes this concept to an interesting, whole new dimension. Let me tell you something: Rashad Evans came here to lose.
Rashad. Evans. Did. Not. Belive. Not. For. A. Second. That. He. Will. Crush. The. Liddell. Thing's. Butt. Tonight.
And suppose what: he did. Big time. Man, Chuck looked so awesome, so Iceman in the fight! But he got a taste of his very own trademark punch - a huge overhand right connects in the second round. Chuck goes out. The Knocked Out Cold type of KO. Thank God he recovered, as the neck nudge seems as pronounced as I ever want to see either in an mma contest or in any other context. Rhyme! Whine? OK, sorry. Immense credit and all hats, and hair off for the Rashad dude. But let me tell you: he is not happy with this win. He lost this match mentally, that is what I think. He feared Chuck. You can see it in his movement. In his Octagon behavior. Hint: Liddell connects with a rather decent softening punch that sends Rashad all the way to the fence. Rashad starts to laugh. Bah! Inept, and an evident indication, acknowledgment of being hurt. An important note: I totally admire Evans both for stepping into the cage with The Iceman, AND for knocking him out silly. But Rashad, Chuck, God and me - we all do know that he feared The Liddell Thing, thus his victory necessarily is spoiled. I would draw your attention to the fact that even he - Rashad - does not make a secret of this. Watch the subtle facial expressions, the metacommunication. The body language. It was a lucky shot and he knows it. There is nothing wrong with a lucky shot. There is much more wrong with knowing that you won by one. Suffice it to say that I have zero dislike factor towards the Sugar dude. Honestly. I merely wish to point out that he wanted to FIGHT with Chuck - he wanted to defeat Chuck by FIGHTING him. But my impression is that once he started to fight him - he considered himself the dude who has to lose tonight. Just check Rashad's face after the KO: he seems to feel a strange kind of regret, almost. Funny thing, truly funny thing. You can't win over a man you fear from, no matter if you knocked his ass out. Rashad feared Chuck today, and I think he would totally admit it.
It will be interesting to see what the UFC will come up with. Will Rashad step up against Forrest? I merely ask this question because you shouldn't have the slightest doubt that UFC President Dana White and the UFC, as a marketing factor/entity wanted Chuck to win. Chuck VS Forrest is a path you want to take. Let us see if Rashad VS Forrest will be the path THEY - the UFC and the aforementioned great players - need to take. Either way, you can't really come out wrong anymore. Rashad VS Chuck 2, Forrest VS any of the two are all matches you no longer can miss out on.
Tim Boetsch vs Mike Patt
Tim "The Barbarian" Boetsch came to the UFC with a performance rather credible to the nickname of its executor: he essentialy grinded down David Heath with rampant aggressivity with not much - if any - regards of a feeling out process and considerations of personal safety. By that cited UFC debut at UFC 81 Breaking Point, Boetsch threws his rival around as you would throw bad looks at the mirror when having your very next- and very private bad hair day. Boetsch's personal style remains highly devoted to this method of surprisingly inventive and radically raw conflict solving, quickly dipsosing of newcomer Mike Patt with two cleverly timed- and precisely placed bombs. The first is the rumble to warn both Patt and you about the imminent storm - the second: is the thunder itself, baby - coming to Patt as side effect of the second impact. Boetsch jumps in for the kill, a Referee stoppage puts an end to furthter, unnecessary destruction. Surely, Patt acts relatively unstatisfied with the stoppage. But I have an impression that he could have been TRULY unsatisfied in case the aforementioned unsatisfaction would have been deprived of him. Strange is the world of mma, no? Tim Boetsch is Za' Man on the other hand, no doubt. We want to see this fighter against top level opposition, and we want to see it SOONNUFF!
A great night, and a great upset radiating psychological appeals, though these might be only my personal inventions. But! What! If! They! Are! Not! Even the voices do suggest that! I hope you had a fine evening and found the review useful. Thank you for reading it, and see you next time.
If you enjoyed this here article, check out my comic: Planetseed
If you are to circulate magnificently pleasant vibrations: Buy me Beer
Read more!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)