Best comment I have come across thus far (via Jezebel):

You’re not your embroidery. You’re not how much money your father has set aside for your dowry. You’re not the carriage you drive. You’re not the contents of your reticule. You’re not your fucking pelisse. You’re the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the Empire.

Question is, what would Tyler Durden do?

SPOILER ALERT!

Inception, as Leonardo DiCaprio said in a CNN interview, is a difficult film to describe, even though narrating the plot seems simple. The film introduces individuals who have the ability to manipulate dreams – through building dreamt realities, through pulling people into their dreams or entering other people’s dreams. The capitalistic ethos of the film says that once an individual has an idea, it will be present in his or her subconscious and is susceptible to be stolen from the dreamscape. Now imagine stealing, or “extracting,” the designs of the iPod or iPhone from Steve Jobs or Jonathan Ives before they even put together the copyright papers.

Cobb (DiCaprio) and Arthur (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) are partners on an assignment to extract information from a powerful businessman Saito (Ken Watanabe). They are foiled in the dream by Cobb’s wife Mal (Marion Cotillard) who is really a projection of Cobb’s guilty conscious after she killed herself. As Cobb and Arthur abort their mission in the dreamscape and confront Saito after all three men wake up, viewers are led to believe this narrative until Saito picks up on a tiny detail in their environment and realizes he is still dreaming – the first scene was a “dream within a dream.”

Impressed, Saito offers Cobb and Arthur a job but instead of extracting information, he wants them to plant an idea into a business rival’s (Cillian Murphy) subconscious without the subject ever realising it – so that the idea may germinate and the subject will carry the idea to fruition with absolute belief that he came up with it himself. This is the titular concept of “Inception.” Despite Arthur’s insistence that inception cannot be done, Cobb accepts the job and assemble a team made up of a talented architect (Ellen Page) to design cities, a skilled forger Eames (Tom Hardy) and a chemist (Dileep Rao) to concoct the necessary drug that will allow the team to enter deep into the dreams.

To overcome the probability that the subject will suspect or trace the inception, the team must plant the idea three levels deep into the subject’s subconscious (“a dream within a dream within a dream”). Because of the depth required and because perception of time is extensively compounded for each deeper level, anyone getting killed in the dream will be trapped in dream limbo until the subject wakes up in real life – which can translate to over 50 years in limbo. And so we follow the team down the rabbit hole.

* * *

Christopher Nolan first started writing Inception about ten years ago, interested in the unconscious mind, citing influence from films such as The Matrix, Dark City as well as his own breakthrough work – Memento. These films play with our perception of realities – Memento gives us a classic “unreliable narrator,” Dark City is a supernatural Truman Show where everyone’s identity is never the same, and The Matrix most famously made us ponder if we could all be, right this moment, merely a “brain-in-a-vat.”

One other important work made around that time was Fight Club, the novel written by Chuck Palahniuk and brought to screen by David Fincher. Superficially a tirade against the emasculation of the male identity by corporations and consumption, the film featured Brad Pitt as the doppelganger antagonist to Ed Norton’s nameless character. It’s only at the end of Fight Club do we learn that both characters are in fact the same individual, giving new meaning to everything that was cleverly presented before.

Every Dream is a Dream of a Dream
Where The Matrix popularised Jean Baudrillard’s theory of the hyperreal (where the copy is as real as the original, if there ever was an original – also recall Ed Norton saying in Fight Club: “Everything is a copy of a copy of a copy”), Nolan’s Inception is a brilliant showcase of contemporary theories of the mind – most notably Freudian psychoanalysis. Inception is not so much a critique, but a screen adaptation wonderfully faithful to the set texts on psychoanalysis and dream studies.

Freud wrote in his ‘Interpretation of Dreams’ about a man who dreams of his dead son confronting him “Can’t you see that I am burning?” Dreaming of the smell of the fire in the dream, the father is then woken by the burning smell from the son’s coffin cloth. Freud suggested that the father’s dream was intruded by the external stimuli. In Inception, the characters make use of music as a cue signal to synchronise activity through different dream levels. (Bonus points for coolness as we all have at some point been woken up by music, sounds, noise that we incorporated seamlessly into our dreams right before we could not “dream” any longer and woke up.) Freud’s follower, the French theorist Jacques Lacan argued that the father was too overwhelmed by his guilt over his failure to save his son, and hence when confronted by the dead son within the dream, he had to wake up. In other words, the father escaped into real life the way we say how people escape reality by dreaming.

This “false awakening” concept is occasionally featured in popular culture, for instance in The Matrix itself – asking whether we are indeed in real real life. In effect the red pill / blue pill question in The Matrix can be understood as asking if you want to continue dreaming – but it can also be understood as asking you to choose which life you want to live in. Thus the distinction between reality and dream no longer matters – a key theme in Inception.

* * *

Inception as Fight Club / Mal as Tyler Durden
In Inception, Cobb explains that Mal had lost her ability to distinguish between real reality and dreamt reality; her dream had become more real for her than reality itself. Cobb convinced Mal to leave their dream where they had grown old to return to reality and tend to their young children. After returning, Mal became unstable and grew to insist that they were all still dreaming and they had to die again to truly return to real life. She commits suicide and implicates Cobb in the process, forcing him to flee overseas. Viewers eventually learn that Cobb knew Saito’s inception assignment was possible because he had successfully planted the idea in Mal within her dream to suggest that her limbo world was not real. Unfortunately the inception worked so well it lingered on in Mal’s subconscious in the real world, and she ultimately killed herself – revealing how terribly guilty Cobb feels. The result is Cobb’s projection of a malevolent Mal lurking in his dreams.

We can draw a parallel between how Ed Norton’s nameless character has to resolve his identity crisis by shooting himself to symbolically kill Brad Pitt’s character Tyler Durden and how Cobb had to give in to Mal’s desire for him to stay with her in the dream. It is only by fulfilling Mal’s desire that Cobb effectively voids her purpose to exist any longer – she cannot want anything more. Remember that after all, this Mal is not the original Mal – she is but a projection of Cobb’s subconscious – a copy of his guilt. So beyond what Cobb knows what she wants, which is to stay in the dream, Cobb’s subconscious cannot tell us what the original Mal might want thereafter.

* * *

Inception beat out Lost by not Ending
The acclaimed TV series Lost garnered a fiercely loyal following, keeping viewers on their feet by constantly flipping what exactly is the truth (who are really the good guys and what is the damn island!) – until the end where, in my opinion, it copped out and fell back on some religious allegory. The best bits of Lost are the ones when new questions are asked, new discoveries are found; their cliff-hangers are the most original ones the television world has seen.

Inception works because it doesn’t quite end – the top keeps spinning! – in a way, like Mal, we the viewers can never be sure of the truth anymore. Did Cobb make it out, or did he stay on in the dream? One may even suggest that the entire mission could have been a dream – although I think that would not have gone down well with viewers (the ultimate “It’s all a dream!” cop out). This, and referencing the always out-of-sight faces of Cobb’s children (up to the final scene), follows the tradition of chasing desire which Lacan tells us can never be truly satisfied. But since Inception closes on not knowing if Cobb did woke up, it is alright to show the children’s faces at the end – because now what matters is not how the kids look like, but whether Cobb is still dreaming. The desire to resolve Mal has been fulfilled and desire itself, in its purest form, has now moved on to resolving whether Cobb woke up.

* * *

Inception is an elegant exploration of the mind, referencing a range of philosophical theories and some familiar thoughts (e.g. the “Kick”). Nolan’s signature dark edge in Inception is in its title – that someone could plant an idea in our minds without us ever knowing it – a highly-stylized question asking whether we really are in control of our own decisions.

The political message of Inception is in what Cobb says – that “the most resilient parasite” is an idea. “An idea can transform the world and re-write all the rules.” Beyond stealing the design ideas for the iPhone, think about what if someone had planted the idea of compassion into Joseph Stalin, or the idea to “break up his father’s empire” into North Korea’s Kim Jung-il? Cultural shifts and whole fates of nations can be overly invested on the inceptualisation of a single idea. To think of political ideas as viruses is to understand why true freedom of ideas has no price.

If there is one lesson Inception emphasizes, it is that our subconscious determine everything in real life. Then once we recognize that if every decision could be pre-determined by someone else messing with our heads – the true idea of Inception dawns upon us.

* * *

The joy of watching Inception, to borrow the film’s own tag line on the architecture of the mind, is to appreciate the genius architect mind of Nolan’s detailed scripting and flawless directing. Inception masters the blending of theories of the mind which are personal, with spectacular visual effects and cinematically perfect execution – the slow motion tumbling of the sleeping characters in the free falling van juxtaposed against their harrowing chase in the deeper lever of dreams defines synchronicity itself. Sequencing imaginative scenes such as ones where Arthur fights deftly in the rotating hotel corridor with the intimate death bed reconciliation and the moment of inception gives us a novel science-fiction thriller that carries a strong sense of longing and belonging which makes all us relate to and feel for. As Ellen Page’s character commented during her initial touring of the dreams, “I always thought dreams are more of a visual thing, but it seems more of a feeling here.” The rush and feeling of excitement sitting through Inception on the edge of my seat makes me think that somewhere, someone’s projection of Freud is smiling.

[Images via Warner Bros]

Sawyer: Look at me, Doc.

Jack: …

Sawyer: Doc, look at me.

Jack: Don’t wanna.

Sawyer: Damn it, Jack – turn around and look at me.

Jack: Not gonna.

Sawyer: Hey! Cowboy up and let’s talk about this. It’s not your fault Sayid, Jin and Sun are dead. I pulled the wires when you told me not to.

Jack: Sawyer, I’m JACK. I’m supposed to lead everyone. They trusted me… Although you did pull the wires after I yelled not to.

Sawyer: No kiddin’ – but you probably didn’t know how schizo you looked, producing a ticking bomb from your trusty little knapsack and telling us nothing is gonna happen.

Jack: You can’t see it but I’m looking extra pensive right now.

Sawyer: (sigh) Sulk it out and then we do what it is that weird touchy Jacob asked you to. And why do I have my shirt on for so long on this episode? It’s the series finale. I’m taking it off.

Jack: Ok, I’m turning around.

Sawyer: Son of a bitch…

“And then I, I get off and I, have a drink, and then I fly home.”

Can’t wait for this Friday when a few close friends will get together for the finale. Since the finale first aired on Sunday night US time it’s been phenomenally hard to avoid spoilers with all the chatter online. Yes, I am biased.

Happy Bobbing Valentine’s / Lunar New Year

Today was my last day working for the National Heritage Board, a government agency that manages national museums in Singapore.

It has been a fun year, constantly meeting new people from all walks and working on a range of initiatives. I’m especially thankful to be able to see what goes on behind-the-scene and get acquainted with the folks – curators, conservators, directors, programming teams, facilities managers and all other people – that make museums happen.

I was already a museum geek before I joined NHB but the important roles museums play are even more certain for me now. So I’d like to take a page out of critic Lee Wengchoy’s book for an observation – that Singapore ought to beef up the museums’ curatorial muscle, be it art or anthropology.

Accessibility and acknowledgment are important but it’s also my thought that we spend comparatively not enough on educating and cultivating museums’ “meat.” Good marketing makes for the sizzle but it is the steak that feeds.

Fortunately there’s a fair bit of exciting things to look forward to – thanks to the establishment of institutions such as the National Art Gallery and international exchanges such as ones between the Peranakan Museum and France’s Musée Guimet. Now that the hardware (structure) is in place, it really is about the software (content). To use a crude analogy, we shouldn’t have a(nother) cultural equivalent of ION Orchard – spectacular exterior architecture but with the same Prada and Zara stores.

* * *

I am taking a break from work for a while and will see what is out there. And I now have the time for some overdue light reading. Auf Wiedersehen.

Okie, Stephie and Dottie, this is way-er overdue. Here are a couple of photos taken at the two parties that tied me down at work – a private Halloween’s event at the MINT Museum of Toys and a late night party at the Singapore Art Museum. The two parties ran a week apart, both on a Saturday night, and they were gooooood.

* * *
:: Halloween’s at MINT Museum ::

Dottie, Me, Stephie, Matt

Shermeen came as Minnie Mouse! And Strawberry Nabilah brought along two Macs.

Andrew and Msxi drew caricatures for the guests.

Goth Chick and Ganguro Girl!

Yup, Darth Vader and Bumblebee Femme are dating.

What’s Halloween without some devilish prodding and poking?

- Kudos to Gwo Wei for these photos taken at MINT Museum. The party Polariods are already on Facebook here.

* * *
:: PYT Party at Singapore Art Museum ::

I stayed dry while Denise Keller was goofing. I think she was mocking me.

First they painted.

Then they made out.

DJ SidAbitBall went old-school with Nintendo Game Boy consoles.

The party.

Merci beaucoup ladies!

SidAbitBall in action.

I uploaded a bunch of Polaroids taken at the Art Museum party on Facebook. Amazingly I stayed sober through both parties. Clearly I’m not doing it right.

When I read that Claude Lévi-Strauss had passed on, I dutifully posted the news on both my Facebook and Twitter accounts. I received one response on Twitter:

I didn’t receive any comments or “likes” (very odd I’d say, to “like” the passing of Lévi-Strauss) on Facebook. However something transpired over the next day that made me post the question “Are Asians hug-deficient?” The responses came swift and steadily:

Two things to note. Firstly, Asians are evidently indeed hug-deficient and it seems we should do something about that, maybe hold free hugs days or perhaps charge money for each hug. In any case the need is there, simmering beneath our polite Asian surfaces and serf-faces. As Lévi-Strauss’ fellow Frenchman and contemporary the psychoanalyst Jacques Lacan would have it, there buried in all the resounding “YES!” resides the erupting of the traumatic Real when Ejin Tan irrepressibly puts it “hug me.”

Secondly, as the father of modern anthropology and a central figure in humanities, social studies and philosophy I trust that Lévi-Strauss would have something to say about Asians needing hugs but only expressing it on Facebook. The late gentleman might also have something to say about the scoreboard:

Death of Lévi-Strauss – 0 Comments, 1 Tweet
Asian Hug-deficiency – 2 Likes, 8 Comments

RIP, Monsieur Claude Lévi-Strauss.

Actually don’t. I’m just kidding. It’s been about two weeks since the Mid-Autumn Festival party at Hua Song Museum and I’m happy to say that everyone had a good time. Overheard: “Mmm… mooncakes…”

With happy guests I’m confident of positive publicity for the museum and for whichever museum I promote for that matter. I do wonder, though, in today’s age of super-speed twitting what will pop-up whenever I do a search for blog entries and image postings. It is part and parcel of my work to constantly keep myself updated of whatever floats up in cyberspace but I want to try something new. Rather than uploading a few choice picks after trawling through whatever I find relevant about my Mid-Autumn’s party, I’m putting up hyperlinks to ‘live’ searches for the name “Hua Song Museum” – the venue of the festive event.

A play on Google’s “I’m Feeling Lucky” button, these links will give you the latest hits on the three currently most pertinent social media channels:

• Google Blogs Search
• Facebook
• Twitter

There are some really decent photographs in some of the guests’ Facebook albums and a fair bit of blog chatter and tweets too so have fun surfing. Mmm… mooncakes…

There are several myths about the origin of the Mid-Autumn Festival, also known as the Mooncake or Lantern Festival. Whether you think the Festival commemorates the overthrowing of the Mongol rulers of the Tang Dynasty or romanticizes about the goddess Chang’e and her lover Houyi the Archer, the nocturnal celebratory mood is a good excuse to party.

As part of my youth outreach project, I am organizing a Mid-Autumn private party at Hua Song Museum. The museum is a center that documents the Chinese diaspora, migration and cultures worldwide, so it’s an apt place to gather some friends and down mooncakes with brews of Chinese teas. Feeling refined on a Friday night is a good way to start the weekend.

Invitation design by yours truly. Somehow I felt the need to go all NASA on a decidedly Asian festival.