Further proof of the synaptic misfires in my brain...

So...yesterday I saw that Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon was on FX, so I tuned in to find that it was the FUCKING DUBBED VERSION. What the bloody hell were the producers thinking when they agreed to an English-dubbed version of that beautiful film? For me, hearing the actors speaking their native tongue was an integral part of the movie...I can't stand dubbed movies, they make me nuts. Subtitle it or get it the hell out of my face.

Aaaaanyway seeing that movie (or the little part of it that I actually watched before going crazy) led me to have really cool dreams last night about being in China, right outside of Hong Kong. Not that I've ever been to China, but whatever. It was a dream, okay? Actually at the end of the dream I was Wonder Woman...I need to lay off the caffeine before bed, I know.

So what happens this morning? My bizarre oriental dreams lead me to check on my favorite Hong Kong blogger, Spirit Fingers, and I find this hilarious post on workplace conversations.

UPDATE: Okay creepy. Last night I dreamt that I was Wonder Woman, and then this morning I found this post on FilmBomb...

Comments

[Misc Debris]

I sooo agree with you. I think that sometimes a film just won't work in English. Be it the lyrical French, stacato Italian or whatever, language is in integral part of any experience.