7.4.05 | Haiii- YAH! (Part Three: Lost In Translation)
So here we are.
The final post at last...
(thank feck fer that... i was starting to get bored)
As you might deduce from my two previous posts, i grew up being immensely fond of cinema from The Orient...alternately being delighted and awestruck at the subtleties of films like Rouge and Light The Red Lantern, then the all-out fightfests, war and mysticism of respectively, Mr Vampire, Ran and Hero... not to mention the occasional ultraviolence of such films as Hard Boiled and Battle Royale etc. I love 'em all!
I took da Pumpkin to see Hero at the flicks, ya know. Well, dragged... and she... didn't quite hate every minute... but she puts up with it cos i'm adorable or something.
"Great film!", i enthused all the way home to my long suffering Pumpkin... "Quite, quite beautiful! Heroic, too, would ya know! I say, Pumpkin!- wake up! Wasn't it a great film?!? Wasn't it?!?!"
Pumpkin might well have been a bit poorly at this point, i think, for she rolled her eyes and groaned a lot during my enthusement... something she ate, perhaps?
One of those films that one puts down in ones "must get" list for DVD's and such. Wow! We could watch it over and over!
So when it came out, i obviously bought it. Obviously.
... Unfortunately, Pumpkin happened to claim to be busy/ill/practising yogic calming techniques (Said the latter was necessary in order to prevent violent murders or something) on all the weekends i suggested we could watch it.
So alas, i ended up watching it alone. And it was there, midway through my happy solitary viewing, that i really did discover the power of words. And one word in particular.
That word being "Yaaargh!" (give or take an Ay, Ar, Gee, and Haich)
There i was, happily enjoying the action. The action at this point being a rather pretty duel between the female leads in an autumnal leafy setting. And the younger one attacks with a warlike cry:
"Yaaargh!" She cried.
And then "Yaaargh!".She did it again!
"Yaaargh!". And again!
And then guess what? A bit later on in the film, when i'd just about recovered from my disbelieving laughter...
"But Mr The Saturnyne, sir!- how do you know it is spelt like that?" i hear you ask.
Subtitles! (imagine i'm saying this word today, with the look of one who has just eaten a bit out of an apple. An apple with half a maggot within. And i'm a person who finds subtitles most agreeable... at least before yummy alcohol has reduced my skills at reading. Do you ever get that? Trying to read something while drunk, only to find the words are being mischievous and having a bit of a dance party on the page?).
Now call me an old fusspot if ya don't like life, but somehow i don't think i need that word being spelt out for me in the subtitles below. Not even if i'm deaf. No really! I think it's plain for all to see the emotion the young lady is trying to convey as she tries to carve her mistress into dogfud, i really do. And if we start heading down that road, who's to stop us from adding other sound effects to other films? fer example:
Violent moves would have words like "Skutch!" and "Shrikt!" added. Romantic couples running through ocean waves (or moody moonlit puddles) would have "Splish! Splash!" thrown nonchalanlty into them. Porn films, too... usually preceded by "Urgh! Ughhh!" Perhaps the odd "Sploosh" and "Shlipt" might crop up in there, too. I could go on, but i reckon yer get my drift by now...
Pathetic. And absurd. Totally ruined the film for me. I couldn't help but giggle at all the seriousness after that... I say sack these inept translators! I might also say, sack the dubbing guys on Crouching Tiger, as well. Cos i really don't think American accents suit the scenery, y'know. (No disrespect to my beloved Americky friends, btw).
Right. god knows what i'm gonna blog about next... i fear i may have some ridicule to throw upon Mr Popes funeral... but i fear rather more that i will have a few choice words to say about Mr Blair and other politicians regarding our forthcoming elections here in the U.K. I have a bone to pick with him...