Hanna…The one Not from Montana

Posted on November 16, 2011


Okay, to be honest I have never watched Hanna Montana (I swear), and hence got no idea if she is from Montana. Probably not, but for Jove’s sake let’s say, she was, in the same vain that Thomas Miller was once a Miller called Thomas (or his son). The point is that I am about to Rave on about a different Hanna, which I did see.

It’s not often that I consider it worth the effort of me turning my brain on to write a movie review (the last one was for V, about 4 years ago), but that time has come again. Then, it was the amazing array of words starting with V that were blasted out during the meeting of the two protagonists, now it is the addictive whistled tune, which reminds you of a boy scout’s hymn, along with the very simple and yet deep (deeper than deep) phrase – ‘ I just missed your heart’ that will etch the memory of this film in my conscience.

I mean, there is something about a blonde haired blue eyed sixteen year old girl, who just happen to have the reflexes and chopping ability (humans not vegetables) of Nasir the Saracen in that most famous of the Robin Hood TV adaptations among Sri Lankans – Robin of Sherwood (seriously, they started showing it in the mid-eighties when it was made, and I don’t think they’ve ever stopped, even though the series only went for 26 episodes). What’s more about her is that she is trained from birth (and quite literally engineered prior to that) to be a stone cold, efficient killing machine, for one sole purpose.

This sole purpose was to survive, and this could only be done by annihilating those who were responsible for her creation, and who killed her mother, and those who will (and did) chase her to the end of life once they get the faintest signal (quite literally) of her continued existence. She was deprived of a childhood, of technology, of friends and of music, in a hard hermetic life by her equally capable killer of a father with the single mindedness of achieving this goal.  What really clicked was that, it was smack in the middle of her pursuit of this life goal, that she discovered life itself, and experienced what she was deprived of in her training for that journey.

Then there were the thugs, oh the thugs – Tom Hollander gave a magnificent performance as a slightly built, possibly quite underestimated, and definitely munted –in-the –head villain, a contract killer with weird tastes, a goof whistle and possibly interesting sexuality. He was served by his two loyal, but vacuum headed skinheads (all three were German). Brute force over brain, in the best traditions of the German Nazi Party. These were not efficient, highly trained and surprisingly hygienic and clean killers of today’s film folklore, but the old school blood stained thugs, who are as obvious in their purpose as a cat sitting on a stool in an empty room, who prefers a blunt instrument to a high powered silenced sniper rifle. What was most entertaining was however, the way they fell.

To me, there was something beyond the gut wrenching action, timely placed, mood defining, eerie and absolutely addictive soundtrack. It was the question asked of me, by the blonde blue eyed fallen angel staring right down beyond my own eyes, peering into the depths of my cranial cavity (it’s a cavity) – How much of our lives do we give up to live? Is it worth giving up your life to achieve the dream of your life? We all have aims, but giving up the present and potentially much of the future, achieve it; would that make us happy and content once we get there? Or will it leave a huge blob of regret where everything we’ve missed could have been, that any satisfaction from getting whatever we chased (dream to be a teacher, to have a Maybach, or to be a super-efficient killer) pales in comparison to?

At the moment, I find it too hard, or more likely I find myself too scared to answer this question.

But hey, AWESOME MOVIE!!!!!

Posted in: Life