London: The Cup Runneth Over

While in London, I watched a slew of matches. Before seeing Titus, I saw the US look hapless against Croatia (3-0), and France and the Swiss frustrating draw before catching Enemies.

I got sucked into the Rooney watch as England stumbled its way out of the first round. Judy led us to the Korean dominated Nags Head tavern where Korea beat Togo. Only when we stepped out did we realize that the Korean over took all of Covent Garden as they took to the streets to celebrate. (Jason later told me of the corresponding chaos in LA). And then there were the amazing nail biters of Germany over Poland and Sweden over Paraguay, each victorious 1-0 in the final minutes.

My enthusiasm was stoked by print media adverstings and of course all the #7 & #9 jerseys.

So on returning I've continued to follow games, dispite the dearth of Cup coverage here. On top of that, my faithfulness is often met with frustration. My teams keep going down: the US, Korea didn't advance, Mexico dropped by Argentina, Australia falling to Italy, the Dutch to Portugul. On top of that, key players are sitting on the wings hardly controling games, Henry, Zidane, C. Ronaldo, Ronaldhino, Beckham, Rooney, the only stars who seem to shine are Germany's Klose and Ballack.

Perhaps the most formidable and frustrating team to watch has been the officials, doling out record numbers of bookings. They gave Ghana a win over the US with an awful PK at the close first half (it should have been a tie); Italy's PK-win in the extra time (90+) against Australia (it should have gone into over time); just now padded Brazil's win over Ghana, failing to call a clear offsides. Ghana, whom I was still upset by their US game, won me over by dominating the midfield and short game against Brazil. If only they had someone who could finish.

The other annoying persistant team is ESPN who have dominated english language broadcasts to no one's benefit. The commentary is inane and the their spastic graphics usually cover the ball the action on field. It's enough to learn Spanish.

London: Books & Plays [Updated]

Why some habits are hard to regain and others so easy, I'll never understand. After a few days, the trip to London with my folks is digesting in a number of ways. So I'll try to break it down.

First off, as my habit, I loaded up on complementary reading material: Fever Pitch, Nick Hornby's memoir of his football obsession; Plays 1, the first collection of plays by Caryl Churchill, including Owners and Cloud Nine; and The Complete Plays of Sarah Kane. All of which delve into the not so pleasant aspects of the British psyche.

I managed to catch two plays: Titus Andronicus at the Globe and Enemies by David Hare (after Maxim Gorky) at the Almeida.

Titus, Shakespeare's money making blockbuster, lived up to expectations in this gory production. I've only seen this production and Julie Taymor's film, but both make me marvel at some of the soliloquays inbetween the horror... in contemplating grief and violence. The one major distraction was the awful bouffant mullets forced on Tamara's son's ..not quite fitting the otherwise predominant Elizabethan staging.

Enemies was searing with intense commentary on owners and the proletariat, and a nifty bit of metatheater, fitting for Hare's Stuff Happens, regarding the Iraq War, particularly the role in government to protect or exploit civilians. All sides seem tragic and disaster is prophesied. It was also good to get out of Central London as the Almeida required.

In a coda of sorts, I just read Korean filmmaker Park Chanwook's interview in Bomb by Esther Chae. Chanwook just closed a much heralded vengeance trilogy composed of Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance, Oldboy, and Lady Vengeance. Chae mentions Titus among others as classic tales of vengeance and asks Chanwook to cite any Korean classics that deal with personal vengeance, to which he says there are none:

"We have tragedies related to war and colonization, but we don't have a culture where on expresses anger in an aggressive way. I didn't' have any literature to refer to. And I find it stifling that we don't have such traditions"

[Update] Ben Brantley must have been at my heels. The show I wanted to see but couldn't get a ticket for was Tom Stoppard's new play Rock N Roll that just opened. Brantley's review came out today. 2/3's down he give a mention of Enemies:

"What is to be done?" might also be the mantra of "Enemies," a new adaptation by the industrious David Hare of Maxim Gorky's 1906 drama of aristocrats and proletariats at loggerheads, which ends this weekend at the Almeida Theater.

Performed with naturalistic vibrancy by a fine cast directed by Michael Attenborough, "Enemies" oozes the juicy ruling-class angst, idiosyncrasy and moral paralysis associated with classic Russian fiction. But it also presents an array of ardent, revolution-ready factory workers. The more insightful of the fluttery aristocrats envy the workers their certainty. But it's telling that the uncertainty of the doomed upper-class characters is what feels convincing, and unsettlingly familiar.

My Big Airplane Day

Today is my big airplane day, when my parents picked me up at the airport 28 years ago.

Last June I went back to Korea. It was more an opportunity to visit, and stay with Steve and Laurie, not so much as an emotional motherland trip, but more to take advantage of a visit before S&L returned to north America.

From my travel email:

Prior to coming my mother contacted Holt (my adoption agency) to schedule a time for me to see my file. There was also a chance to meet my foster mother, but she passed away about 5 years ago from cancer. I wasn't sure quite what to expect, but the file didn't have too much different from what we knew before: that I was left at the police precinct or box and placed for adoption.

What was interesting was that I was admitted to Bethel Won, the orphanage on June 2, 1976. Because there was no information about my birth parents, they essentially made a new birth certificate and estimated my age based on growth, and relative size of other children. Hence my birthday, August 1, 1974... give or take a few weeks... Interestingly, the post adoption services worker commented that my file was particularly verbose. Also of interest were two letters from my parents before and after the adoption.