December 13, 2012 § Leave a comment
As one of my bids to improve my writing skills, I must learn how to keep the discipline of writing out of necessity.
We went to watch the Life of Pi yesterday – myself, Steph and Tavia. The opening scene brought us into India immediately. Pondicherry, during the French occupation, to be precise. The Indian who turned out to be Pi was telling his long-lost story to a curious person who had gone all the way up to Canada upon an introductory push by Pi’s big-chested swimming uncle, Mamaji.
And so, the story began.
The story is, in reality, more realistic than fantastical. You could capture many snapshots during the duration of the film – Pi and his understanding of who God is. Pi and family, eating capati, Pi and animals. Pi and magnificent Bengal tiger, for most of the film. These were many portions of beauty that you had keep retraining your eyes to see. Because of the magnificence of some of the scenes, you were often distracted by the sheer magnitude of the images.
The story is, after all, already entrenched in the minds of many by a certain Yann Martel.
I’ve spent many a joyous moment entertaining the imagination of what different worlds there are in the stories written in books – but sometimes, it feels good to take a peek at what other people are imagining, too. And sometimes, just sometimes, you get to do that through the power of film.