Theory Of Love Review (TOL): Episode 4

"It's not what we sell, it's the looks of the seller," so says Kai about the booth they are setting up for the campus fair.
He might as well be talking about the BL genre -- for what are is BL selling but the looks of its actors. The plots are mere excuses for us to stare at the actors; the plots are skeletons on which to hang those melting squeal-worthy moments, dazzling ornaments that make us forget that the tree is bare. In Ep 4, one of those moments must be when Off removes his shirt to take a shower, and briefly we see his dazzling white shoulders and the teeny nips. It's a tease, for you and for Third, who takes up the discarded shirt (still warm) and writes down "I love you" - along with the signatures of one thousand schoolgirls. The teasing continues.

The savage gang sell bangers and kisses, another chance for Third to get all jelly and pouty over Kai flirting with the clamouring girls - yawn. And then, weirdly, Kai starts to flirt with Third, feeding him a sausage on a stick, a kiss on the cheek; they go on two movie dates; Kai can't keep himself off Third, getting increasingly physical - a touch on the lip, a backrub, leaning on Third's shoulder in the cinema. (At which point shouldn't Third just turn around and kiss Kai? Why the reticence? Kai had obviously crossed the line of being a buddy.) Kai even lets Third ride on his bike, a treat reserved for his girls. I like the bike scene - it's romantic in an unexpected way.

The scene is like a dream, and the Ep 4 ends with the rude awakening - Kai is only testing to see if Third is in love with him. In a drunken bout, Third (he's always creeping about, listening at doors - why?) overhears Kai telling Bone that he doesn't think Third is in love with him because Third hadn't responded to his overtures.
Third just happens to be hanging out at the gents, and then he cries.

So, why didn't Third respond to Kai's overtures?
It's just one of the bigger plot holes that make much of the story flat and unlikely.

Theory Of Love Review (TOL): Episode 3

Perversity: There's a lot of dark perversity in Ep 3.

It's pure perversity, but I suppose it's one of those inevitable BL tropes, that Third would move in with Kai. This is a formula for misery, if anything, and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. I suppose the whole Snow White idea of setting up house, and playing the married couple, is irresistible to most queens and Ep 3 does its persuasive best to show us how prettily it could all work out. The "domestic bliss" scenes of Third in apron at the sink, or mopping the floor, scream pure "wife" fantasy. And what queen hasn't dreamed of shopping with her man in Ikea?
Unfortunately, it's all so prettily predictable that there's a deja vu effect -- you've seen it all before, and besides, you would have dreamt it up even if you hadn't seen it. How do you feel about this Ikea scene? For me it's too predictable to evoke any squeals -- I'd wish they had shown something more inventive.
And then Kai brings a back a girl (Fahsai) with Diana Ross hair who turns all psycho and gives this episode all its dramatic energy, some real emotion, which I otherwise feel TOL lacks. Like it's all too cutesy and sweet and quite... dull.
Fahsai, looks like yet another sweet-faced girl that Kai seduces, isn't dull: She unleashes a violent jealous rage like some junior demoness, breaking things, eating cake, beats up the hapless Third, hair flying (like she's doing a concert in Central Park) screams bloody murder and generally wreaks the havoc that you wished Third had the guts to do.

What's truly chilling is Kai offering Third cash to leave the apartment so that Kai can do the dirty with Fahsai -- and Third accepting it. It's unreal and impossible that Third, however besotted, would go through with this perversity. Another extra perverse scene, and this one so long-drawn and deliberate that it has a gothic creepiness: Third is feeling his way around the dark apartment and opening Kai's door, witnesses Kai in bed with yet another girl; the girl hears the door creak open and asks Kai what that was; Kai says it's nothing. It's ambiguous whether Kai knows it was Third watching him. This is creepy.

Third locks the door and weeps. (Gun displays two emotional settings so far -- weeping with self-pity and pouting like a wronged wife.)   

On the other hand, Ep 3 gives us morning-after Kai sending off Fahsai in a taxi -- in boxers! What a treat -- the glimpse of Off's unexpectedly sturdy white legs -- totally worth the tedium of Third's misery. (Equally tedious is Too's high school sweetheart making her blandly sweet appearance, and Bone's unlikely romance with the unlikely Pan -- time-wasters.)

The last perversity has to be Kai's version of "friendship" -- in a drunken bout, he says to Third (who puts him to bed): "With girls I use my body, with you I use my heart. You can't compare them." This is neither here nor there, and obviously a red herring -- that it isn't obvious to Third is his own perversity, with no one to blame for his misery but himself.

Theory Of Love Review (TOL): Episode 2

TOL Ep 2 is an improvement on Ep 1, and for me, it's because Kai's clumsiness has given way to Off's considerable charms; and rather than the fleeting scenes, Off's characteristic appeal is given the emphasis it needs to give Third's longing for him meaning.

I'm surprised at how swiftly the producers have introduced the teasing foreshadowing that Kai would love Third back -- but I suppose that's really a blessing in a series of 13 episodes. And those doormat scenes of Third endlessly crying perfect, photogenic tears can become rather repetitive -- we get the drift, get going already!

This episode also develops the characters of Too and Bone giving the skeletal plot a bit of body, much-needed flesh and blood. As mentioned previously, White is a surprisingly sincere actor, and gives his "best friend" role a grounded warmth. Third confessing his three-year obsession with Kai to Too is so heartfelt, you feel the comfort a good friend can offer in the several scenes they have together in this episode. Of course, Too's efforts to set KaiThird up, and his enthusiastic support of Third's romantic feeling for a friend, is pure BL trope (in other words: wishful thinking). But yes, White is wonderfully watchable as Too, and I can watch that scene of White marching in the stadium endlessly -- it's pricelessly silly, and will cheer up your dullest day!

I'm also fixated on the blink-and-miss cameo of (Bom? Bomb?) OffGun's transgender minder playing the security officer chasing Third from the stands. Her thick bun of hair wobbles and her officer's cap just about falls off. It's Hilarious!

This scene is also notable for the dreamy Kai beaming away sunnily at the above-mentioned chase -- he's so cute you want to squeal -- a bookend scene for the slo-mo ping pong playing scene in terms of dreaminess and completely says it all about Kai's appeal.

Un (Earth), Kai's romantic rival, is introduced as the rival campus stud -- who has an attachment to Third. Poor Earth! He doesn't stand a chance, does he? The hair's all wrong and he's always rather a hit-and-miss for me -- he's all body, if you know what I mean. Earth with clothes has no meaning at all.

Kai starts to flirt meaninglessly with Third: Recording the sound of crickets in a moonlit park, to finally going on a movie date (Off in full boyfriend mode), to what will become a classic most-shared scene when Kai, with his face all sex and seduction, says to Third that everyone would fall in love with Third; to when Third is flash-carding his confession at Kai's door and Kai willfully misconstrues Third. Why is Kai doing this (and looking so meltingly beautiful while being cruel)? Why do straight men do things like that -- it's one of those mysteries that never would be solved (and then they lose all their power). You can feel Third capsize in the undertow of lust and confusion. He falls deeper.

Bone's (Mike Chinnarat of the ears) room is a mess, and is the only one who seems to live outside of an Ikea catelogue. I mean, Kai's apartment looks palatial in contrast, I suppose adding to his appeal. Third is like Elizabeth Bennet -- she's going to marry up! Bone is also the only one of the four friends who has to work (in a cafe) after school. Bone's love interest turns up -- I swear I see his ear wiggle -- in the manner of a scene from Notting Hill; Unfortunately, she's the unlikeliest of girls for Bone -- she's quite a matured actress, isn't she, and rather thin than pretty. This bit of casting is a bit of mystery -- never mind her looks: the chemistry is nil to negative.

So things are clipping along and I'm looking forward to Episode 3, aren't you?

Theory Of Love Review (TOL): Episode 1

Episode 1 begins on a good note: Charming and pretty to look at, the pace bounces pleasantly along. As BL productions go, TOL looks superior in production value -- everything is polished eye candy -- the sets are pretty, the hair is fluffy, the clothes are beyond trendy, so the stage is set for pure escapist fluff of the highest quality.

Its intentions are made clear too, with the tone of the direction sliding towards the great British RomComs of the 2000s, which it actually quotes rather literally. TOL is about four film-school students after all!

Except Off Jumpol (Tumcial) isn't actually the Hugh Grant of Thai TV and that's immediately apparent in a sketchy and uneven performance as Kai, the campus cad. It's an uneasy and self-conscious performance that makes Off an uncomfortable watch, and impossible to imagine as the homme fatale that Khai is meant to be.

Off's Kai is skittish and eccentric -- not qualities to make girls swoon as they must, and as they do in real life. Off is swoonsome as himself -- pure husband material, unexpectedly deserving of the worship he gets.

But his Kai feels strangely sexless, even though he wears most of Off's own clothes (sheep in wolf's clothing?) -- with the addition of the bike that is so at odds with his wardrobe of wafty pants and Goyard purses, that the character immediately feels untrue. Off would never skip and dance around a girl as Khai does, disconcertingly.

The real Off would fit this role perfectly -- but I suppose this rather camp portrayal is some sort of lame effort to separate Khai from Off, and also Khai from Pick (Off's role from Pubby Honey Secret Love) which is something that has to be done, since Off/Khai/Pick are hard to differentiate.

A few brief scenes make sense of Off's appeal -- he's that figure in the background of a movie review that catches the eye (how can one help it!) and the scene when Khai is playing ping pong in slo-mo -- you fall in love with him just as Third/Gun would. However these scenes are brief -- mostly you see Khai painfully obnoxious, without one redeeming feature.

Ears looking at you kid: Once you see Mike's ears, you can't unsee them.

Gun is a revelation as Third; He's a wonderfully transparent actor and one feels for him, with or without the plot. However, did they have to make Third such a doormat? He lost me when he was rooting around the bin for Khai's girlfriend's (Milk) things. No one can be so downtrodden, however besotted, and Third has loved Khai for three years! It's not a positive portrayal and furthers the uke stereotype, which isn't helpful nor interesting.

Which brings me back to the point that Third's obsession would feel empathetic had they made Khai more obviously lovable or even realistic -- not this insubstantial good-for-nothing. Give us a reason to love Khai as Third does -- make him an incredible sportsman, or a brilliant filmmaker or something -- not this tedious, childish impersonation of a stud. Give us Off, in other words.

White (of Love Sick fame) makes his mark as a surprisingly convincing actor as Too, so that's a hit of surprise right there in an episode that feels flat and predictable, pretty as the thing looks. (To round off mention of the main four of this series I have to say that Mike's ears are distractingly big!)

OffGun's celebrated chemistry is always watchable -- this deserves its own post for later so that's a positive to cling on to until the dust settles (hopefully) and they get the star vehicle that these two amazingly hardworking and dedicated actors justly deserve.

MY BROMANCE THE SERIES - REVIEW OF EPISODES 01-04

I'm basically watching this BL lakorn almost entirely because of Cooper Patpasit (he plays the lead role Golf). He isn't classically handsome, in fact, there's something simian about his features, but what an extremely sexy young man! And the fact that he can act actually makes the four episodes watchable; His acting holds up large swathes of this somewhat plodding drama, and his presence and charm make him a budding star.

Cooper with his lovely long, lean torso

This 20 year old isn't pretty-pretty but he makes up for it with a 20 year old's nubile, athletic build, an asset that was quickly showcased in the diving scene way up in the debut episode - and then again and again - which makes My Bromance captivating and exciting to watch - and yes, a bit more adult (than let's say Make It Right), if only marginally so.
I think this series treads the middle ground between Grey Rainbow, which was thoughtful and thought-provoking, and the pure tooth-rotting fluff of Make It Right. My Bromance doesn't have the depth of the former, no philosophical or religious basis, nor is it entirely devoid of realistic detail like the latter. What it has is plenty of family drama that at times feels totally unnecessary, and diffuses the buildup of the love between its leads.
I think the makers have mistaken a convoluted family structure for depth - it's not profound or complex, merely tedious and confusing. For instance to have Golf's mother have a twin sister who lives with Golf. Why twin? Why not just a sister who could be played by some other actress, not the same actress that doubles up as Golf's mother? Then Golf's mother is a manic depressive, who commits suicide, after fighting with her husband over a non-existent mistress. The father is also sick - there are scenes of him being attended to in hospital - overall there's a heavy sense of illness hanging in the air that forebodes tragedy - so no fluff here.
Now, the aunt also has a rather shrill daughter who lives under the same roof as Golf and acts like a sister, but isn't, She doesn't have a father. There's drama over the house which has to be sold, etc and so forth and it goes on and on. It certainly doesn't help that even the flashbacks aren't told chronologically but flash back and forth, with repeats.

Does one need to watch a tapir fall in love?

The casting of Kaii is also hugely problematic for me - firstly, Kaii is physically not as attractive as he should be. I'm trying to reach for a polite way to say that he looks like a baby tapir but I can only go so far as to say Kaii is not slim. The face isn't even agreeable, and the beaky nose and sly eyes make him look devious and scheming when he needs to look vulnerable. I don't know what he has done to deserve this plum role - but it certainly isn't his acting ability. The role cries out for Oat or Min Thitipat of Love Sick, someone with a bit of fragility and innocence.

His looks and appeal are cruelly brought into focus by having his character be a magnet to no less than three suitors - the series opens with one American suitor proposing marriage to him; Jaguar plays the student council that courts him in school; then there's Golf. All three are very attractive alpha types, making it unlikely that any of them, not to mention all of them, falling for Kaii.
And all this could be overlooked if there was even one jot of chemistry between Cooper and Kaii - alas not a quiver of chemistry. Zero. Zilch.
Cooper might as well be making love to a particularly lumpen body pillow for the total lack of electricity.

MAKE IT RIGHT THE SERIES - REVIEW

I hadn't planned on being hooked to Make It Right The Series (MIR), because its trailers had promised a formulaic follow-up to the hugely successful (and iconic) Love Sick The Series (LS) which ended last year (also by Thailand's Mcot Station). As predicted, MIR has hewed lazily to the boys' love genre conventions, casting a few extremely pretty boys to enact what is less of a plot than a trail of tropes: Confused Uke (Fuse) ensnaring Passionate Seme (Tee); Nerd (Book) falling for Younger Flirt (Frame); Out&Proud converting Straight-for-Now, and in these combos, throw in some third parties (in Thai, these are called "third wheels"); and then stir in a few disposable girls into a sweetly fluffy meringue of a story (MIR, like LS is adapted from a Thai online novel). 

After watching the first four episodes (subtitled in English by fans), I can assure you that the story is just as twig-thin as any of the cast's scrawny arms. It's hard not to compare MIR with LS, as the two are almost identical - I would go so far as to say that MIR is the production team's attempt at getting LS right, ironing out some of its wrinkles and creases and smoothing out the edges (for instance, they made MIR a lot more racy, with sex in Ep 1, and lots of skin - whereas LS muddled along and it wasn't till towards the end of Season 1 before Noh and Phun actually got down to business). However, because of its similar territory, MIR suffers in comparison, possibly because it comes later, and thus carries the weight of having few/no surprises/ novelties. It's obviously mining a formula (as many are doing - even the recent Chinese webseries Addiction was inspired by LS) that had proven successful - I hope that I will be proven wrong in due course with a compelling twist or two - but I'm not holding my breath.

Of course what's really working, and credit should be given where it's due, is the excellent casting as usual. The four main leads (plus quite a few more in the supporting cast) are spot-on heartbreakers (but then Thailand is like a factory that keeps churning impossibly cute boys out - I need to take out all my savings and move there pronto!) that give MIR its sparkle and life. Again, this is like LS - you don't really watch it for the plot, but for those coyly seductive moments and intense looks of longing that only the really young can carry off - that's the heavy lifting there. The rest is merely working out the various moments/situations where Peak, 16 (as Fuse), Boom, 15 (as Tee), Ohm 15 (as Frame) and Toey, 20 (as Book) these looks can dart those deadly stares into the camera or wrap their nubile limbs fetchingly around each other. For now, Tee has emerged the real star - he's like the new Captain isn't he? Tee represents a new type, very Chinese-looking with the most sculpted of noses and full juicy lips. 

I think fans are watching because MIR fills the void that LS left - it's a pale shadow of LS, but it's a familiar shadow. MIR has to make it on its own merits to matter, and to prevent any more comparisons to LS. 

MIN THITIPAT POOKBOONCHERD (Part 2)

In which H shares a few choice TIDBITS ABOUT MIN

1. 

    Kimmon: Min unfollowed Kimmon on social media around May 2015, after their Sing For Nepal concert. There was a long text post on Twitter (I don’t understand Thai), which I’m guessing ended things, not in a pretty way.

I don’t know what happened between them, but after this “breakup”, Min never attended any event with Kim alone again. Just think how close they were back in those early Freshy Camp days.

2.   Min only agreed to go on the Lovesick On Tour gig to Udon (with Buff4) with Na’s company.

3.   Around November, Min also unfollowed Alone (on social media). Alone was this guy that took care of Min and Oat, and drove them to the set, took them home, basically a chaperone. I consider this surprising, since they pretty much went everywhere together for months.

4.   So after the MinOat fanmeet, after the end of Lovesick, the only person from that whole thing Min kept in touch with is Na. And Oat. Min still seemed OK with Oat, replying to each other’s Tweets, and they hung out together at Christmas eve. 

THE STRANGENESS OF MIN THITIPAT POOKBOONCHERD

MinOat, the ship that sunk, isn't going anywhere

Notes on MinOat, Namin, and the strange ongoing discussion with H on this mysterious boy actor.

Born June 19, 2000, Min is quite a strange young man. 

Unlike his peers in the world of Thai lakorn, he keeps his distance on social media. There are very few clues as to what he’s really like in real life.

D: I first fell in love with Mick, the character Min plays in Lovesick The Series Season 2. Three of four episodes in, Mick came to supersede every other character in the series for me. It made me want to see him in real life – and so I went to the fanmeet in Bangkok, my first ever. This was the MinOat fanmeet, where they gave out the MinOat 2016 calendar. 
Oat is another teen actor from the series.

I was very disappointed at seeing Min. He seemed aloof, cold and distant, so much so that his personal beauty, unaided by the terrible styling, couldn’t hold me in the too-cold theatrette, and I made off halfway through the strained performance.

In December, I went back to Bangkok for the Lovesick final concert Lovesick Love Actually. This time round, I found Min to be much improved. But he seems nice and cheerful only with Nanoob Napian Permsombat (November 14 1995), who plays Mick’s sweetheart (for lack of a better word) Ohm in the series. They seemed close, in body language and verbally, with fans after the concert ended.

Min is rather special in many ways; Sometimes he seems troubled even.

H: From what I saw online, Min looked more vibrant than Oat at MinOat, and he took the lead and was proactive throughout the concert and fanmeet.  Oat seemed sheepish, less confident.

To be honest, I’m glad to hear that Min is only cheerful around Na. I didn’t really ship NaMin until their “secret” date in October. That was way after Lovesick ended its run and after the MinOat Fanmeet, which by the way was a huge discouragement to OhmMick shippers.

Min hung around with Na more and more, and he’s changed quite a bit since then. Min and Na didn’t start out this close, not even when the series was airing. I don’t know what happened, but something must have happened right then, around October.

Mick’s First/Last Kiss

Mick’s First/Last Kiss

I knew Ohm would be there at Phun and Noh’s Christmas eve party. Phun and Noh threw their party every year since Phun turned 21, and Phun’s dad had given Phun the old teak house which was set well back from Sathorn Road, hidden in a knot of mango trees. Noh had moved in with him a Christmas after – that was a major event – and then the parties started. It had become a tradition for all the old boys of Friday College to catch up at this party.

This Christmas eve, when I arrived with Win and Mark at around 11 pm, Ohm was already there. I hadn’t seen him in two years, but I spotted him right away, from across doorway, the center of an adulating circle, as he always was. Standing propped up next to the makeshift bar, Ohm was laughing raucously at some convoluted joke he had told, drink in hand and surrounded by the other members in is band, and some other guys I couldn’t recognize. He looked well – being in a hit band suited him  – or maybe he was very well be high on something; One really couldn’t tell with Ohm, even I couldn’t tell. Anyway, he didn’t think see us come in.

Just after midnight, we decided to leave. Mark was dying to go to a club to get away from what he thought was a pretentious party, to go and really celebrate with his other friends in Soi 4. So we said our long, drunken goodbyes to Phun and Noh and the others making a huge detour of the lovely old house. And just before we stepped into the velvety darkness of the trees in the garden, Ohm pushed up to us, ignoring Mark and Win, he took my face in his hands and kissed me on the mouth: “Merry Christmas, stranger,” he said softly, against my cheek.

Ohm tasted of wine and gum.

I half thought he might be wanting to pass on an E to me, as he used to do, but there was no pill in my mouth. I saw Win register this (his eyebrows went up the slight fraction his politeness allowed) but pretended he didn’t notice. Mark already had quite a few drinks and really didn’t notice.

On Christmas Day, quite hungover still at 3 pm, Win, Mark and I went to watch a movie at Quartier Cine-Art. I’d been thinking all night and all day about Ohm’s kiss: What could it have meant? Was he even conscious? Why didn’t he say anything else to me? Did he think I wouldn’t mind? I was thinking so hard about Ohm that I couldn’t follow the plot of the interminably long sci-fi blockbuster. Was it just the drinks, or drugs, or the sense that the year had ended, that things have ended, that our youth had ended that made him do that? Because Ohm was one of those that could drive perfectly straight even when stoned (he just gripped the wheel a little bit too tight, and leaned stiffly forward). And I’ve witnessed him order a three course- French dinner when he was completely off his face (that was when that year when we came back from our holiday in Paris and fell in love with everything French for a year). He didn’t eat any of it, but he ordered it, a little insistently, perhaps, and sat through the meal, drinking the wine automatically, chattering brightly as usual.

Imagine my surprise when we actually bumped into Ohm in the supermarket right after the movie, when Mark was having a coffee and Win was eating a burger, and I was sucking and chewing on a bubble tea. It was like I had conjured Ohm up by thinking about him non-stop.
Ohm was with Keng, an old friend of ours from Friday, and they were buying beer for yet another party; it was all a bit awkward. I know I wasn’t looking my best. I was aware that Win was studying me, and only Mark seemed blissfully unaware. Keng asked me to join them for that night’s party. “But Win and Mark are making me dinner, and I’ve got to work on my recording tomorrow,” I said. I didn’t want to go because Keng didn’t ask Win or Mark, just me; but mostly because Ohm didn’t ask me. He was talking to Mark intently, in his usual bluster.

The next day afternoon, when I went back to working on my recording at Studio 28, Keng texted.

He said that Ohm gave him my number, and that Ohm told him that we hadn’t been talking for a while.

Me: “It’s been years. Why rake this up now?”
Keng: “You should ask him out for coffee.”
Me: Ohm can call me if he wants to talk, or have coffee or whatever. He knows how to text.”

When what I really wanted to say to Keng was that the Christmas Eve kiss reminded me of Ohm’s first kiss so many years ago. It brought back the smell of his leather sofa where we sat for hours, learning the finer points of the French horn; It brought back the sound of the fountain in his garden when the birds had all gone to sleep; It brought back the sound of his dad's creaking Mercedes Benz (and the day he got his driving license and drove us straight to Rayong); It brought back the always too-sweet chocolate he made me, and which I had drunk anyway, for years; Our first fight at Block F, near the third floor toilet. The very first Christmas, the one which I didn’t manage to give him the Supreme hoodie I had saved up to buy for him.

Ohm had made me who I am today, dry eyed, looking back, unable now to read any of my feelings at all clearly, even when I tried.

THE BEST THAI ESCAPE OF 2014: TRAVEL TALES

SUITE DREAMS (ARE MADE OF THESE)

Just a year old, Point Yamu, COMO Hotels and Resorts’s property in Phuket, delivers its promise of utmost seclusion in style but is this a vision of beach living for everyone? By Daniel Goh

Phuket isn’t off the beaten track for anyone – arguably very few places are now, and especially not Thailand, one of the most touristed destinations in the world – so it’s a challenge for any property seeking to distinguish itself in a location dense with hotels of all sorts. And yet Point Yamu succeeds in being memorable – perhaps this is where the Como style comes in.

Located on the eastern side of Phuket on the tip of Cape Yamu, the resort is miles away from anything, tourist or local, and is approached by driving up a gentle uphill meander through a rubber plantation. If you’re seeking a Victorian rest cure, this gated seclusion is ideal: ensconced in oversized daybeds indoors and out, comfortably propped up in nests of pillows, the serene panoramic views across the bay are a sight to soothe frayed city nerves. Unobstructed, they impose themselves on your psyche, stilling your inner chatter with the UNESCO-protected wonders of the limestone karsts of Phang Nga Bay, stretching into hundreds of islands on the Homeric sea, with the stately grace of a Noh screen that changes through the day in slow motion from slate-grey (early morning), to peach melba (dusk), and Tiffany blue (noon). You forget to wear your watch, and the hours melt into the ozone.

To enter this magical seascape takes something of an expedition. The calm Andaman Sea beckons, but Point Yamu has no direct beach access. Guests take the daily shuttle to the jetty, then a scheduled boat transports you to the beach of Rang Yai Island (a 15 minute transfer). Beach enthusiasts may find this inconvenient, but the schedule actually adds to the calm, imposing form on an otherwise lolling, shapeless day. Similarly a timetable of complimentary activities on a printed card marks the hours – Pilates at 11 am; Old Phuket Town tour at 3 pm; Flower arrangement 4 pm; Bike tour 5 pm. Just studying the timetable feels reassuring, like you’re on rehab or in a posh nursing home. You must take a day tour of the bay, known parochially as James Bond Island (the setting for Man With The Golden Gun), a magnet for divers, snorkelers and kayakers. Tear a rent through the gelatine skin of the sea in a longtail boat with the hotel’s guide Roman, who has been sailing these waters for 20 years, and who knows every ancient cave glittering with minerals, every deserted cove of wild monkeys, every tide, every fable, every pristine beach of every uninhabited island, as well as you know every nook of Orchard Road. His skin is the wet teak of the boat, impervious to sun.

Service staff can make or break a hotel, and at Point Yamu, the service made the experience perfect. Efficient and warm without being mechanically so, nor betraying their training, and without being anything other than Thai charm itself, patient, humourous, discreet, each attendant is Thailand’s USP. From housekeeping to front desk to the ladies serving meals, to the auntie who made ice-cream in an uproar of tinkling bells and clouds of dry ice, to the lakorn-lovely nong (braces, perfect British-accented English) who came to the room to try to fit the TV with cables so that we could watch a DVD, and failed – every one of them made the stay a joy.

The rooms have no DVD players, and the point is probably that those are outdated. Point Yamu is resolutely modern in look and feel. The interiors are contemporary without being minimalist, cheerfully coloured and have some Thai accents.

The result is light-filled spaces punctuated by splashes of aquamarines and oranges. All rooms have spectacular ocean views. Each room maximizes space, and the executive suite is larger than most four-room flats, with a generous verandah. Shorn of all gimmicks, real luxury was brought to the fore in quality fittings, firm beds dressed in the fine Egyptian cotton, a bowl of edible fruit, the bathrooms are clad in jade-coloured tiles and furnished with COMO Shambala toiletries.

Every self-respecting resort must have its spa and the pompously-named COMO Shambhala Retreat takes itself seriously and offers yoga, Pilates and treatments over two stories with a modern European feel. I didn’t try any of the treatments but must say the therapists look almost medical in their purpose so I should say you’d be in good hands (literally).

When you’re marooned in a resort and eat all three meals in - food becomes all-important. At Point Yamu, it’s elegant that there are just the two restaurants here (plus a pool bar that disconcertingly played strenuous dance music at tea – surely jazz or Noh is more suitable) serving excellent food. Located alongside the 100m infinity pool and open on all sides, La Sirena is the checkerboard dining hall where you go to for breakfast, Italian cooking and locally caught seafood. Just across the way, Nahmyaa serves really delicious, finely balanced southern Thai. The calorie-counting health junkie will appreciate the COMO Shambhala menu which is available throughout, designed for those who want their raw foods, living enzymes, unprocessed fibre and morals.

So there you have it: If your idea of escape is a cozy version of house-arrest set in stunning views, Point Yamu is the place for you.

Point Yamu by COMO, Moo 7, Thep Kasattri, Thalang District, Phuket, Thailand. Phone:+66 76 360 100

PRINCESS SRIRASMI NO MORE

To those addicted to Thai lakorns, the still unfolding saga of the former Thai Princess Srirasmi will seem familiar. It's even more riveting than Love Sick The Series. (I'm planning a really long post on this TV series, so watch out for it!)

It wasn't to be a happy birthday for the  Princess, who was born 9 December 1971 to a family of modest means. She graduated from Bangkok Business College at age 22, and entered the service of Crown Prince Maha Vajiralongkorn as a “lady-in-waiting”. In 1997, Srirasmi enrolled in Sukhothai Thammathirat Open University and graduated in 2002 with a bachelor’s degree in management science. In 2007 she received a Master of Arts degree in Home Economics from Kasetsart University. 

The always polished former Princess in happier times

Today, she is Princess no more, and has adopted a new identity overnight, and from now on she will be officially known as Thanphuying Srirasmi Suwadee. It is reported that she will now return to her hometown of Ratchaburi and devote her time to studying Buddhism. The former princess (the third wife of the Crown Prince) was seen at a government office in Bangkok's Dusit district obtaining her new identification card.
The scandal-plagued Srirasmi's abdication came to light last Friday in a terse statement carried in the Royal Gazette. The announcement said that Princess Srirasmi had requested in writing that she be allowed to relinquish her royal status. No reason was offered for her resigination.
This request had been acknowledged by His Majesty the King and permission has been granted. Additionally, it was officially acknowledged by Prime Minister Prayut Chan-o-cha.
Apart from her royal title, she has also resigned her army position. 

Srirasmi has returned all her jewels and been granted 200 million baht to support her new life as a commoner. 

POSTCARD FROM PHUKET (2005)

I decided that I needed a holiday one Thursday morning while I was in the office. On top of my work, I had to explain to a stylist the difference between being stylish and being merely trendy. It didn't make my "pep talk" any easier to see her endearing little moustache bristling. The fiendish features editor later (unhelpfully) said that it was the Salvador Dali in her trying to get out. 
Phuket time is one hour behind Singapore time, but it seems like an entirely different experience of time altogether. Everything feels slower once you arrive at the airport, which is casual and 1980s ugly, and lighter, as if you just threw away five years of designer clothes from your wardrobe. 
The last time I was in Phuket, the island was nothing but wooden shacks and rubber plantations. Now there are distressing excavations and diggings (but where are the workers?) and tractors with no drivers. Huge and largely similar billboards advertise the hotels and condos that will be standing where there are now just piles of yellow upturned earth. Is this progress? And does it all have to be so ugly?
As we drive further into the depths of Phuket in the evening light, my Phuket emerges. A young girl is planting her three little siblings on a scooter before jumping on herself. All four race off into the dusty, winding hill roads, her talcum-ed brown neck is thrown back in a white laugh, her just-had-a-bath hair is flying in the wind.

Phuket for me is the trials of schoolboys in orange, white and blue uniforms walking home after school. They all sport that brusque-short haircut that makes them look like budding thugs, savage yet sweet, violent and vulnerable at the same time. They stare at our speeding, dark minibus insolently.
Phuket for me is always sunset time. A slow island slowing down as planters go home for a bathe by the well; as shops close and their owners sit outside to enjoy the breeze. 
Even the stray dogs look content. 
And then we arrive at the Royal Phuket Yacht Club.  

WEEKEND READING LIST: ALL ROADS LEAD TO THAILAND

The last time I was in Bangkok was literally the eve of the anti-government demonstrations last November; the hotel manager called me that morning soon after breakfast and instructed me to pack my bags and leave just as I can because he had received advance information that demonstrators had begun to move towards the road leading to the hotel and would close it to traffic; he couldn't say if things would get violent but was advising guests to evacuate. Something in his tense voice over the phone made me pack my bags at once, and within an hour, I left in the hotel car. Turning back for one last look, I saw the crowd of demonstrators marching in, flags waving, with something of a festive air, but guards were beginning to bar entrances with barricades, and the streets were noisy with shrill whistles and clappers.

I felt like Sigourney Weaver in A Year of Living Dangerously.

Fast forward to (more or less) six months later and I'm simply longing to visit Bangkok again. As you know, for most Singaporeans, Bangkok is simply an obsession and a habit. I have not heard of any Singaporean who didn't like Bangkok; and according to my luxury brands PRs, the local press are always keenly enthusiastic about Thailand press junkets (as opposed to those to Hong Kong and etc ones, although arguably the press here salivate like a komodo dragon at any mention of a junket, with eyes bulging and ropes of sticky drool, cankerous tail waving). I wonder if it is thus for your country?

This last weeked I was reading 2011's Thoughtful Gardening by Robin Lane Fox, one of my favourite (living) writers and amongst the riveting chapters on cuttings and pests, Mr Fox remembers his visit to Bangkok as a young journalist. In particular he mentions the Phukae Botanic Garden, a gigantic park in Saraburi, some 60 miles outside Bangkok. Within the city, Mr Fox remembers Wang Suan Phakket (Lettuce Farm Palace), the lovingly tended garden of the late Princess Chumbhot. He took the bus number 3, which delivered him to the door of this "tranquil retreat". 

Reading about these gardens made me simply long to visit Bangkok.

I called my Thai sister Ms O. All my visits to Thailand are preceded by calls to my Thai sister.

She was busy making T-shirts.

What for?

Ms O was involved in what promises to be the mother of all demonstrations; she was making T-shirts for the anti-Thaksin army. Ms O said: "Honey please don't come between 5 May and 17 May. Millions of people are going to demonstrate to oust Yingluck. May not be that peaceful. Come after." 

Sure enough, the papers are full of dire reports on the impending demonstrations which will climax with new, and surely contested, elections in July. 

With this wearying warning in mind, it could be months before I see Mr Fox's Thai gardens.  

Hello Again

Well, it's good to be back.
I did like the days in Amsterdam a bit, but I prefer being home, to be honest. The roses and those Tudor style houses along the canals actually reminded me of England.
I liked looking out the windows from the Okura room at the people whizzing by on bikes and the badly dressed oldies (this isn't, I must say, a fashion sort of city) walking their fluffy dogs.
The pollen was flying in the Japanese garden where I had some very early, and very delicious Japanese dinners; I was the only one wearing a sweater and jeans amidst a sea of business-suited, sleek haired businessmen.
I have to say I prefer the Okura than the creaky, winding up and down boutique Pulitzer, which is in many ways, just a really big bed and breakfast. Its heavy gloom was not enlivened by the chatter I can hear from two rooms down, nor the constant slamming of heavy doors or the clatter of guests clumping all over the place.
I read rather a lot during the week(magazines and papers), and I'd especially recommend the novel Landfalls by Tim Mackintosh-Smith, about a Moroccan traveller of the early Renaissance. This is a heavily researched book lightened by jaunty prose. It does dwell enlighteningly on Islam, which one learns is more complex and less dogmatic and not completely abstract.One learns as one goes along, doesn't one?
On the other hand, my first trip up to Bangkok in four years was spent hectically catching up with friends I'd lost contact with for a while. I didn't manage to see everyone of them, but I managed at least to collect their numbers, so next time.I also made some new friends, as I was travelling with a young group I'd never travelled with before. The meals and traffic jams were made hilarious by the constant patter of rubbish from one young man called DH. This trip will always remind me of him, and his obsession with vintage jeans, sunglasses and watches. An afternoon spent giggling with DH in the back of a sedan isn't at all dreadful, I must say, even if it was pouring in sheets outside. Also the Greek-American model, 20 year old Christian, made quite an impression, and I only wished I had more time with him under the chandeliers of the gilt and mural Edwardian ballroom of the Oriental.
I love the Oriental Hotel, don't you? The rooms are so comfy, and the service civilised. Of course the food's really great. I ate quite a lot, I'm afraid.
The traffic jams are as horrific as ever, and the city is steadily, unstoppably transforming into one gigantic, dust-coloured mall. One morning, very bored, I bought on a beauty binge:1. Olay Professional and Pro-X products, including the age-defying day moisturiser (SPF 30), wrinkle smoothing cream and a deep wrinkle complex (don't ask).
2. Boots No 7 Protect & Perfect Serum.
3. Laura Mercier Creme Brulee Honey Bath.
4. Kyoku For Men Lava Masque which has mineral-rich mud, black sand and ash from Mount Fuji (don't ask, and let's not go there).
5. Tengan exfoliator which has shirasu volcanic ash, sourced from Japan's southern island of Kyushu (is it radioactive? Let's not go there). I do, in fact, have a thing for volcanoes.
But just to tell you that I'm not all vanity, my hair is all grown out of shape, and the grey is showing, but I can't be bothered to spend three hours at the salon.
Go figure, and have a lovely week ahead.
X

Super Mario

Mario Maurer, who awhile ago seemed to have gotten quite fat (German genes X Thai food - you do the math!) seems to have hit the gym big time and come back... older and slim again!In the latest Volume, he models Jean Paul Gaultier in a sailor-inspired story. Volume seems to be a legit fashion title, if a little heavy handed with the photoshop!I like that his new broad shoulders make his head look even smaller than ever - so cute!