Incredible Hulk

incredible hulk

In standerd 7 ry ek een Dinsdagoggend skool toe op my fiets.  Amper daar gekom, min of meer by die skyfskietbane, dink ek: Ek is ek.  Ek wil nie iemand anders wees nie.  Ek hou nie van alles van myself nie, maar dis steeds wie ek is.  En vraag is: gaan ek oor 10 jaar nog dieselfde “ek” wees?  My antwoord aan myself was: Nee, dis mos onmoontlik.  Ek het byna omgedraai huis toe.  Die idee was vreesaanjaend.

Incredible Hulk was nogal Incredible.  En ek hou nogal van die belofte van ‘n samewerking tussen Iron Man en die groen kabouter iewers vorentoe…

Ek het oorweeg om hier hardop te dink oor die stryd wat Bruce Banner het om Hulk te beheer, en hoe dit dalk waar van ons elkeen kan wees om die “monster within” te tem.  (Soos wanneer die tannie met die pers kop voor jou inry en jou dan teen 34.8 km per uur gevange hou.)  Maar ek is nie nou lus nie, dit voel te veel soos die inskrywing van Spiderman.

Kom ons gesels eerder oor identiteit – meer spesifiek, die vloeibaarheid daarvan.

Vir Bruce Banner het die vloei van sy identiteit by ‘n waterval afgetuimel; dit gebeur vinnig en hy moet dit hanteer.  Iets het deel van hom geword wat nie voorheen deel van hom was nie.

Maar ek, die kyker, is in my skik.  Hoekom?  Want die vreesaanjaendste toneel in die hele fliek, was nie ‘n toneel van metamorfose, of die ander vieslike Hulk-ding waarin die mal soldaat verander het nie, ook nie die gevegstonele of vlamme of klankkanonne nie, ook nie Liv Tyler se bolip nie.

Die vreesaanjaendste tonele het nie gevra vir spesiale effekte nie.

Dit was daardie honderde, honderde, duisende huisies in die krotbuurte van Rio de Janeiro wat laag op laag op laag op mekaar gestapel is.  Mens sien hoe die magdom mensies verdwyn.  Identiteitloos ingeslurp word deur die massa.  Ek is dankbaar vir die groenigheidjie wat in Bruce se are vloei, want ek weet dit gaan sorg dat hy een of ander tyd gaan uitstyg (tehehe) bo die hordes.

Wanneer dit gebeur, is hy geweldig ontsteld, en ek natuurlik in my skik.  Dis immers hoekom ek die fliekkaartjie gekoop het.  Hy skop (!) daarteen, soveel so dat hy bereid is om dodelike dosisse gif in te neem om net weer die Bruce te wees wat hy was.

Maar ‘n waterval val nie twee keer op dieselfde plek nie.

Uiteindelik besluit Bruce om tog tot ‘n mate te aanvaar wie hy nou is, danksy Elizabeth Ross (is dit waar Elizabeth Kubler Ross haar naam gekry het, of was lg. die inspirasie vir hierdie Marvel karakter??).  Mens sien mos in die twee groen monsters oorblyfsels van die mense wat hulle was.  (Hulle het omtrent moeite gedoen om die “goeie” Hulk huilerige ogies te gee teenoor die “slegte” Hulk wat baie boos lyk en snaaks genoeg wel verstand het om te kan praat.)

Ag, vertel my, sou jy dieselfde wou bly as jy kon?  Hier is mos ‘n plekkie vir comments…

In die Nuwe Testament gebeur die onafwendbare “Event” van die kruisiging.  Dit verander die identiteit van mense, juis deur die trauma daarvan.  Vgl. Rom 2:28-29, wat vertel dat ons identiteit “binnekant” sit, nie buite nie.

Ek het gister dieselfde pad gery wat ek as Standerd 7 tiener gery het, daardie Dinsdagoggend.  En ek is beslis nie meer dieselfde outjie nie.  Maar dit is OK.  Dis nog dieselfde rivier, hierdie kant van die stroomversnellings.

About fredddels

Ek dink alles kan geld as teks. Dis jou bril en jou eetlus wat bepaal wat jy raaklees.

Posted on Julie 2, 2008, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. 8 Kommentaar.

  1. Strangely enough was The Abomination vir my ‘n lekkerder creature as die Hulk. Veral daar waar Tim Roth nog eintlik soos ‘n mens lyk en hy desondanks die Hulk aanvat in one to one. Duck, dive, flip roll.

    Freddy, ek het gister Wall-E gaan kyk en ek het soos ‘n vrou gesit en huil. Wel nie regtig nie, maar amper. Ek dink jy moet ‘n reeks inskrywings oor Wall-E maak. Stuur al die ander movies na die maan!

  2. Ek vermoed dat verskeie obvious goed gewoonlik nie dit is wat ons veronderstel is om raak te sien nie. Die groen monster is onvermydelik om te mis, ja, maar watvan alles rondom hom?

  3. Dark Knight is crap. Ek was gister by die premiere.

    Maar Wanted is goed, jy kan gerus ietsie daaroor skryf.

  4. Weet iemand dalk hoekom daar nog ‘n Hulk movie gemaak is? Was daar nie nou die dag ook een nie? Is hierdie ‘n opvolg of ‘n ‘remake’? Of het iemand net ‘n nuwe manier gekry om spiere te teken, en kon nie wag om dit uit te toets nie?

  5. Bertus!, ek het ook ‘n paar trane gepik met Wall-E. Dis die moeiste en sweetste ‘kinder’fliek wat ek nog gesien het. Die boodskap is die harde waarheid.

  6. Dark Knight crap?! Bertus!!! Hoe durf jy so laster?!

    Skryf eits oor Dark Knight dat ons kan debateer Freddy.

    Ons gaan lekker in April bruilof hou!

  7. Why the new X-Files film is a misunderstood but compelling tract for our times
    Mulder and Scully aren’t just trying in vain to revive a dated franchise. This time, they’re in search of a remedy for the spiritual malaise of the West
    ∑ It
    has bombed at the box office and disappointed not just film critics but also fans of the iconic TV show. It has also puzzled them. The programme’s first big-screen spin-off, ten years ago, was in essence just an inflated episode of the small-screen
    series. As such, it went down well enough, particularly with aficionados.
    This time, however, the brand’s originator, Chris Carter, has abandoned the much-loved phantasmagoric world he created, with its ever-ambiguous narratives. In its place, he seems at first sight to be offering no more than a humdrum, body-parts-harvesting serial-killer procedural. Why?
    The clue’s in the title, or rather the subtitle. It isn’t “The Truth is Out There”, because Carter has clearly decided that, after all, the truth probably isn’t out there and that whether it is or not is no longer the point. Nowadays, there’s something more important than tilting at mystery. It’s something we’ve lost sight of, and our salvation depends on getting it back.
    The X-Files TV series and it first film spin-off were born of an era of pre-9/11 innocence. Their mission was to titillate the comfortable by conjuring up fanciful perils. Nowadays, we have no more need of fictional chimera: we face real threats a-plenty, ranging from terrorism to economic collapse and climate change. When it comes to dealing with them, however, we’re paralysed by a loss of faith. We no longer believe in our leaders, our media, our values, our way of life or even our fellow-citizens. As a result, we are sinking into apathy, cynicism and despair, instead of confronting our demons.
    Once his TV series and its associated activities had come to an end, Carter took five years out. He went surfing, learned to fly and climbed mountains. In addition, he says, he came “closer to faith”. He seems to have returned to the X-Files destined to reinvent the franchise for a new age in the light of his own epiphany, consciously or otherwise.
    In his film, the message is laid on with what at first seems like excessive and unpersuasive zeal. The wintry Virginia landscape is as unforgivingly frozen as our own faithless world. In enforced retirement, Mulder clings stubbornly to his belief that there are more things in heaven and earth than Horatio dreams of. This leads him to endorse the apparently psychic visions of a paedophile priest, who in turn trusts in God’s forgiveness. Scully is the sceptic on all of these counts, but puts her faith in untried medical treatments (she’s now a doctor) and the God of the Roman Catholics.
    By which of this rag-bag of beliefs are we expected to set store, we ask through much of the action. However, as in the best police procedurals, purport awaits the denouement. It turns out that the priest may be a faker who’s in on the crime. Or, he may not. Faith doesn’t deliver truth. It doesn’t necessarily deliver happy outcomes, either. The fate of the child that Scully is treating remains unresolved.
    Where we should actually place our faith turns out to be up to us. The Foxes (20th Century and Mulder) not only challenge the claims of truth, but neglect equally to endorse freedom, justice, religion or the American way. The quest for belief itself, however, is now so serious, apparently, that we mustn’t squander it on indulgences, like the extra-terrestrials of the TV show. Faith is the key to fighting crucial battles. We cannot simply duck out of these, since the darkness finds us, not we it. Faith is what preserves our ability to press on in the face of the horror of it all. We must therefore embrace it, not scorn it.
    Trite? Corny beyond belief? Well, try “Love thy neighbour”. Naive or not, The X-Files’ message addresses the troubles of our times. There may well be an appetite for it. The tide of Obamamania suggests that lots of people are indeed seeking a repository for faith. Those who pay attention to this film, instead of hankering for the solace that its TV progenitor provided in what is now a faraway age, will be rewarded. They will find that it fulfils the task it has set itself with unusual skill, force and panache. If imparting a moral with intelligence, precision and passion were the test, Gillian Anderson’s performance would win her an Oscar.
    Show faith. Ignore the critics, and go and see The X-Files. It might do you good. And don’t leave as soon as the credits roll, or you’ll miss one of the most affecting cinematic scenes of all time.

  8. Dankie Bertus! vir die X-Files spoor, maar whatever. Ek wil net sê Hulk was beter as Iron Man en ek het Hulk actually believable gevind (ek weet hoe dit klink!). Ou meneer Stark se tegnologie en acting was net heeltemal te far fetched. Robert Downey Jr suck en na vandag in Tropic Thunder het hy dit weer bewys. Alhoewel, hy was eintlik beter in Tropic Thunder, alhoewel ek gewonder het hoe hy dit uithou in ‘n movie wat eintlik gedeeltelik gaan oor ‘n heroïen-bedryf en Ben Stiller wat a la Platoon in die groenigheid op sy knieë neerval – daai was hilarious!
    Skies, terug op Hulk: sukkel ons nie maar almal om uit te vind waar ons plek in die wêreld is nie? Ek weet na ses jaar se teologie-swottings weet ek nog steeds nie wat ek met die res van my lewe gaan doen nie.

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