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teawaffles · 3 years

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There’s No Business Like Show Business: Chapter 2

The next day.

After finishing his work at the mansion, Bond headed to Whitechapel’s Leman Street, where Maya and her company normally held their rehearsals. [1]

Walking down the noisy street was not just Bond, but also three other employees of the Moriarty household. One of them was Fred Porlock.

“It would’ve been fine if only you came along, Fred…… But thanks for joining us anyway, you two.”

Bond directed that to Jack Renfield and Sebastian Moran, who were walking a little behind him.

As Fred was a master of disguise, Bond had asked him to contribute his opinion on the performance too when Jack and Moran decided to tag along. Now the four of them were on their way to the rehearsal — with Louis’ permission of course.

Jack roared with laughter.

“No, you don’t have to thank me. I’ve watched my fair share of theatre, so I thought I could help them out, even if it’s from an amateur’s perspective,” said the old butler, nodding as he reminisced about those good old days.

“You’re probably just after the young girls from the theatre company, aren’t you old man?” Moran said, half in disgust. “Bond said this Maya chairwoman is a dashing lady in her own right, so I came along to feast my eyes on—— Ow, that hurt!”

Jack had clapped Moran on the head, as a warning to not shoot his mouth off.

“The only one here chasing women is you. Really, you didn’t even finish your chores properly before coming here.”

“I did my part just fine. For once, I’m not skipping out on work.”

“Rubbish — I did a check before we left and found some cigarette butts in the hallway. Don’t you dare annoy Louis any further.”

“……W-Well, the more the merrier, right?”

“…………”

Listening to their usual argument at the back of the group, Bond smiled wryly, while Fred was silent.

Finally, they had reached their destination. Waiting in front of the theatre was Maya, and her little sister Mae.

“Mister Bond!”

“Hey, haven’t seen you since yesterday.”

Mae waved her arms up and down in excitement, while Bond greeted them with a smile.

“S—sorry. Normally, she would play with the other children near our place, but today she insisted on coming with me…… By the way, um, who might these, d—dignified gentlemen be?”

“Ah, they work at the same household as me. The short one here is Fred. The somewhat scary-looking one is Moran. And this dandy old gentleman is Mr Jack. If you’re alright with it, I thought you could use their input as well.”

As Bond introduced them, the three men also greeted their host. But Maya seemed a little perplexed.

“……Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to come here in a big group,” Bond admitted, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“No, no.” Maya hurriedly waved her hands. “I—I’m really grateful to be able to, hear valuable feedback from, so many people. For now, let’s not stand here to talk, please come in……”

Maya guided them into the theatre, stooped in a self-abasing posture. Her faltering voice was much as the same as from their previous encounter, but today, nerves seemed to have crept in as well.

“She has a sort of shadow about her, but that has its own charm. Like the transient beauty of a young widow, don’t you think?”

“She’s pretty, for sure, but not really my type. More like the kind of woman who complicates things when you break up with her.”

“Um, sorry you two, but if you could just keep your voices down,” chided Bond, as Jack and Moran whispered about the chairwoman behind her back.

Right after the entrance was a cramped space. The box seats above them looked hastily constructed; in truth, the interior decorations made it seem more appropriate to call this place a playhouse, rather than a proper theatre.

But their guide had only praise. “The manager here is, a really nice person; whenever we say we want to practise, he’s always happy to lend it to us. There are performances held at night, so we can only use it during the day.”

“He trusts you, doesn’t he.”

Hearing her speak with such sincere gratitude, Bond was quietly impressed by her character. Perhaps her dark aura easily invited misunderstanding, but she was definitely genuine at heart.

“Speaking of which, Miss Maya, you said that you’re the director for this performance, but surely someone else is responsible for the sets and the arrangements at the other theatre during this time?”

“Another member is in charge of the sets, but the negotiations and the like, w—were handled by me. Even so, the manager of the larger theatre — a nobleman — had actually approached us to be the opening act for another company, and I just accepted his invitation.”

“Still, isn’t it great to be invited to perform on a bigger stage, even if it’s just as an opening act?”

“Yes; for people like us — a theatre company from the slums, we don’t have many chances to show the world what we can do, so everyone’s doing their very best.”

Saying that, Maya secretly clenched her fists. Surely the one working the hardest was none other than Maya herself.

There was no audience in the stalls, and on the stage were a number of men and women — likely the company members themselves — doing light warm-ups and vocal exercises. A few of the children he’d met yesterday were also frolicking about on stage.

One exceptionally tall man on the stage had noticed Bond and the others enter the hall, and spoke up.

“Oh, is that the rumoured theatre master?”

Moran whistled at this unusually grand title.

“Theatre master, eh. A fitting name considering your experience, Bond.”

“Fufu, I’m honoured.”

Bond accepted it with his innate courage and composure. Then, he went onto the stage with Maya, while the other three sat in the stalls at the far end, so as to not stand out and interfere with the rehearsal.

The company members each stopped what they were doing and lined up in wait.

“Everyone, this is Mr Bond, who will be watching our performance today,” introduced Maya.

Right then and there, her voice had become clearer and stronger. A little taken aback by the sudden change in her attitude, Bond took a quick look around the room.

“Hello to you all. I’m looking forward to what you have for me today,” he said solemnly, as he bowed.

“We’ll do our best!” The company members bowed their heads in unison.

From their greeting, Bond could feel the the quality of their bearing, and the strength of their cohesion. Not only that, the tension he himself once felt when he stood on stage came rushing back in waves.

He switched his frame of mind from that of a special agent, to that of an actor, and looked over Maya and her company with an earnest gaze.

“Well then, without further ado, please show me what you’ve got.”

“Yes!”

Even though his instructions had been given with no introductory remarks, they asked no unnecessary questions, and jumped straight into preparation. Even though they had only put up plays in cheap theatres, Maya’s company already displayed the high level of professionalism they had developed.

“Miss Maya, what’s the programme for today?” Bond asked, as he moved to the row of seats right in front of the stage.

Maya was also directing Mae and the other children to sit down. “We’re starting with ‘The Red Shoes’, followed by ‘The Little Mermaid’, and lastly, ‘The Little Match Girl’.”

“Hmm, fairytales, I see.”

The unexpected subject matter piqued his interest.

In a time when Shakespeare was all the rage, to perform children’s literature in a proper theatre, and a serious scripted play at that — now this was a bold move.

But as someone who liked to do things unconventionally, that was precisely why their play intrigued Bond. Yesterday’s playful rendition of “The Little Match Girl” was probably inspired by it as well.

Then, the tall man who noticed Bond earlier spoke up.

“Ain’t it interesting? Maya always makes sure to write plays that even us poor dumb folk understand. Today’s script is also entirely her work,” he said cheerfully.

“Weren’t you in charge of creating the play too? You should be able to write at least one decent line of dialogue.”

At the man’s self-satisfied tone, a woman beside him sighed. But he ignored her pointed comment and carried on.

“There were a bunch of people who’d always thought ‘Hamlet’ and ‘Macbeth’ and the like were plain boring; but after Maya broke them down into something easier to follow, they’ve gotten hooked onto Shakespeare.”

“Being able to interpret works in a way that everyone can understand…… A wonderful talent indeed.”

But if you were to put on a proper production of Shakespeare in an unregulated theatre like this, you would be caught by the censors. To avoid that, incorporating music and the like into their productions was a brilliant adaptation on their part.

Bond had said that last part out loud, and the man thanked him for his words of praise. The members of the company had shown their admiration for Maya, but the woman herself took in a deep breath, as if to hide her embarrassment.

In other words, in order to put on a play that everyone could follow, the answer she'd arrived at was “fairytales”. Although it may be the best choice given the short length of the opening act……

“I’m sitting next to Mister Bond!”

“Hey, no fair!”

Bond had been absorbed in thought about the contents of the play. Nearby, the children were scrambling for the best spots. Having won the seat to the left of Bond, Mae asked him a question.

“Mister Bond, do you like ‘fairy tales’?”

That pulled him out of his thought process for a moment, and Mae smiled.

“Yeah. I read them when I was a child.”

“I like them too, because Maya and the rest always read them in a fun way—”

“Me too!” The other children raised their hands and shouted. Reading stories aloud while acting out the roles was indeed a theatrical way of reading to children.

However, Mae immediately pouted in frustration.

“But I really hate that story.”

“……Why is that?”

“The little girl always looks so sad. I tried asking Maya to give it a happy ending, but she just said that we have to ‘respect the intent of the story’ and didn’t listen.”

Her words helped Bond discern the true nature of the incongruity he'd felt.

As Mae had said, all three stories had their protagonists fall into unfortunate circumstances and perish. It was true that many fairytales were cruel, but there were others with happy endings too. Was there some hidden intent behind these choices?

As Bond pondered the new question that surfaced in his mind, Mae leaned in towards him.

“Mister Bond, do you also think it’s important, what Maya said? No matter how sad a story is, can’t we make it happy on our own?”

She asked that question with clear eyes. Bond thought for a few seconds, before responding.

“It’s true that it’s important to understand the intention of the original story. If you change its contents haphazardly, the fans of the story would be upset. I think your sister is the type who would take that very seriously.”

Mae glanced down in disappointment at his level-headed answer, but Bond continued.

“However, if we were all afraid of criticism, then nothing new would ever be made. If you have something you really want to tell others, then I think it’s possible to add a new interpretation to a story. After all, one form of respect is to show the world how you would’ve done it.”

“……Oh I see!”

Mae brightened up, and Bond smiled. Her question was one that had always, and would continue to vex all interpreters of stories. But at the very least, he didn’t want to make a decision on which way was right.

Just as their conversation had come to an end, it seemed the preparations for the performance were now complete.

“Without further ado, let us begin.”

Standing on a platform, Maya gave a bow, and with that the curtain rose.

Footnotes:

[1] Leman Street is a little to the north-east of the Tower of London and St. Katharine Docks, and within walking distance of both.

T/N: Is this chapter some meta-level commentary on the series itself?! omg

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #english translation #forbidden games

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cybernaght · 3 years

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Guardian rewatch: episode 12

We start the episode in the Snake Tribe territory, which is supposedly still somewhere within the confines of the Dragon City. It is baffling that it took citizens of this place so long to figure out that there are mysterious beings and demi-humans living among them, it truly is.

While the scene is mostly centred around the conflict between Zhu Hong and her tribe, and the ominous warning of the war brewing, it also does a really lovely joy of showcasing, yet again, the fierce loyalty not only she, but Guo Changcheng have to the SID. This boy remains the most precious muffin of a human.

At the SID, Sang Zan is learning to write under a loving watchful eye Wang Zheng. The once fierce and ruthless warlord is now the softest archivist. On a separate note, I am not sure how good of an archivist he might be considering that he is evidently illiterate.

Anyway, it’s heart-warming to see those two happy together. I sure hope nothing terrible happens to them in the future.

Our actual power couple, on the other hand, have done a full reversal into the relationship they had in the beginning; only it’s somehow even worse now. Shen Wei, who properly messed his cover up during the last adventure, has his guard up as he is being questioned in relation to a case. Zhao Yunlan, who grew to see this man as a friend and partner, is no longer amused by secrets, nor intrigued by them. He is now furious at their existence, upset at what he must perceive as lack of trust on Shen Wei’s part.

Shen Wei serves Zhao Yunlan a cup of tea with a side order of avoidance, hoping that by ignoring the subject of himself it will go away.

When in the previous scenes together they were always across the desk from each other, or next to each other, leaning in closely, body language open, there is now a rift between them. It’s awkward; neither of the men want to be here, but their needs are the opposite to each other, and neither of them are willing to back down.

Shen Wei goes on explaining in great detail his connection to the case and to the victim, despite Zhao Yunlan’s attempt to change the subject with a very unsubtle, “your body surely recovered fast”. The latter then proceeds to stubbornly talk about Shen Wei’s archaic ways, which earns him an incredulous “Are you even listening to me?” from the professor. The incredulity is wonderfully misjudged, considering the circumstances.

“I only want to hear you tell the truth”

We rarely see Zhao Yunlan open and vulnerable. I can’t off the top of my head remember him ever being open and vulnerable with anyone who is not Shen Wei. Zhao Yunlan operates on false bravado, aggressive charm, weaponised smiles. But with this man, he purposefully lowers his guard. I trust you, he seems to say, and I always have. Why can you not trust me?

Shen Wei gulps.

He then continues talking about the case, which is the last straw for Zhao Yunlan, who explodes, smacking his palm hard on the desk.

Shen Wei startles, looking hurt. I just… don’t understand what he was expecting. Once again, this is a man who, from Shen Wei’s perspective, has unmasked him on the first day they met. This is a man who has been poking and prodding him for weeks. And I get that it is hurtful when someone you care about does not respect your boundaries, I do, but truly honestly hoping that the same someone will just accept the relationship terms that have never even been discussed is a little bit unrealistic, especially when Shen Wei is not divulging anything.

Shen Wei is bad at communicating. Which is, I suppose, not news to anyone.

“It seems that Chief Zhao still hasn’t given up on suspecting me.”

“Not suspicion, but lack of understanding.”

Zhao Yunlan is trying very hard. He is trying to close the rift between them: by pulling the chair over next to Shen Wei’s and settling down on it, by reminding Shen Wei how much they have been through together, by telling the man that he is being perplexing. Shen Wei, on the other hand, has raised his barriers all the way back up, smoothly explaining that he is just a normal man who ends up being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He has got a polite smile playing on his lips, his mask fully in place.

Zhao Yunlan does not even pretend to have believed Shen Wei, he gives up on the conversation with a dejected “Fine, forget it.”

He makes his excuses and pulls his phone out to make a call to Wang Zheng to check up on the rest of the team. Just as that happens, the SID gets attacked by the magical sound waves, and Zhao Yunlan sprints into action.

Shen Wei calls after him, and then asks to come with. Considering they have just spent some very awkward time together, more or less fighting about Shen Wei lying an awful lot, Zhao Yunlan would be well within his moral rights to reject help. He doesn’t, however. Even now, the trust he has in Shen Wei - in his good intentions, in his friendship - is unwavering.

At the SID offices, Tan Xiao is using his sound device to get past the two ghosts energy beings, and break through the safety measures protecting the Hallows. In other news, apart from being susceptible from curses or poisons slipped through the letter box, the SID HQ also does not have anything that might stop a human from breaking into it. How those people survived for this long is a mystery.

A point of complete diversion from me: I am currency watching a contemporary drama entitled To Dear Myself. It’s about young professionals in Shanghai who get their lives broken in about ten different ways; Zhu Yilong’s the leading man; there will definitely be a lengthy think-piece on it here. But the reason I’m bringing that up here is that it also has Chen Weidong, the actor who plays Tan Xiao, as a contextually neurodivergent rich boyfriend of one of the protagonists.

It’s kind of surreal seeing him here; there’s only been about two years between the filming of those two shows, but he looks so different. Oh, and, he is very good as well.

Back in the world of Guardian, we see Sang Zan shaking off the sound attack and attempting to stop Tan Xiao. He does not succeed as such, but manages to pull a string which activates the Indiana Jones-style set-up with loaded crossbows. It’s very silly; I kind of love it.

While evading the arrows, Sang Zan flings the Awl up in the air, Zhao Yunlan catches it. How close is the University to SID? He took about five minutes to get here! The chief gets a barrage of premonitions which include Zhu Hong knocked out in the future, as well as in the present, and a little sneak-peak into the Disaster Wedding incident.

He then proceeds to pass out into Shen Wei’s slow motion embrace.

There is nothing wrong with this. This is beautiful.

Shen Wei checks on Yunlan briefly, but Tan Xiao goes on the offensive, which deserves him: a) a shot of dark energy right into his chest, which flings him across the space, b) the meanest of Hei Pao Shi’s death glares. This is the moment Tan Xiao earns an uncharacteristically rough treatment he’s going to get at the end of this episode.

She Wei carefully places unconscious Zhao Yunlan next to the wall, calling out his name. We can only presume that the lab has a second exit, as Tan Xiao manages to get away despite the two men currently being more or less in the doorway.

An indeterminate amount of time passes, and Zhao Yunlan wakes on the sofa, Da Qing in human form miaowing at him, his team and Shen Wei nearby. The team goes into a full debrief mode: Wang Zheng reports that she is generally able to repel sound waves, but was taken by surprise; Da Qing and Lin Jin speculate about the shield being affected by the waves as well, since an apparent Undergrounder managed to get through it.

Zhao Yunlan notes that the sound waves ability seems to be doubled, and used for both attack and suggestion. He notes that the powers can be numerous, while grinning conspiratorially at Shen Wei.

Shen Wei quietly despairs. He probably genuinely thought that this conversation was truly over. He takes a few seconds to come to terms with Zhao Yunlan actually teasing him about him maybe being an Undergrounder, before composing himself and stating that compound abilities don’t actually exist.

Da Qing, who doesn’t necessarily pick up what this conversation really is about, but does note that *something* is up with those two, comes to his own conclusions, asking Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan to stop flirting.

Lin Jing comes up up with this.

“Comrades!”

Thank you, Viki subbers, for notifying the audience that the word “Comrade” is also a slang for “gay”.

Lin Jing springs to his feet, saying that he needs a sample test of a human consciousness - presumably to create that clever brain chip of him which would make one immune to the wound wave powers. Zhao Yunlan very theatrically feigns a big scary headache to see whether Shen Wei would volunteer to take the test in his stead to spare him the pain. It’s an underhand move, but it works nonetheless.

We briefly return to the Snake Tribe, or, more specifically to Zhu Hong’s Fourth Uncle asking whether she is still mad at him, while she is forcibly restrained and bound to a pillar. What is it with this show and binding people to pillars? In reality, the one bound to a pillar is actually Guo Changcheng, which the Fourth Uncle doesn’t pick up on even through Xiao Guo is not actually wearing the clothes Zhu Hong arrived in. Zhu Hong springs the trap, plies her uncle with the same wine, and then goes to regroup with the others, leaving Xiao Guo behind for the time being, because, I guess, it makes more sense for Zhu Hong to be alone when she gets hypnotised later in the episode.

Honestly, it’s easier to not think about too much about this scene, so let’s return to the main characters.

Lin Jing is just finishing the experiment on Shen Wei, who is lying on the lab bed in his undershirt, seemingly asleep. I would assume that Shen Wei has gone into some kind of a meditative trance to try and affect the way his own brain works and emulate the human activity. He does not stir when Zhao Yunlan walks over, and call him.

“Shen Wei? Professor Shen?”

Having received no response, Zhao Yunlan leans in to…

... Count this man’s eye lashes? Admire the effects of his skincare routine?

Oh, no, sorry. Here’s the excuse.

Thank you, Guardian, for this moment.

As Shen Wei wakes up and rises, he lets Zhao Yunlan know in no uncertain terms that he did see through his ruse.

“You don’t have a headache anymore?”

This snaps Yunlan out of gazing at Shen Wei with barely contained lust to pretend that his head indeed still hurts. Considering that Shen Wei does not look concerned, and knowing that Zhao Yunlan’s health and well-being is his number one priority in life, we can conclude that he did know that a headache was just an excuse to get Shen Wei out of his shirt check Shen Wei’s brain activity. Our professor collects his things and leaves with a brief goodbye.

Lin Jing is staring at the readings, checking that the computer has worked properly. Noticing that something is wrong, Zhao Yunlan asks, “Did you see live pornography in his head or something?” Not that I blame his for his mind being the gutter, but also, wow Zhao Yunlan’s mind is in the gutter.

Lin Jing dismisses the idea of mind reading as a whole, and shares his findings that Shen Wei’s consciousness was unwavering, like a dead man’s. Unfortunately for Shen Wei, whatever it was that he did to appear human has not worked well at all.

Zhao Yunlan smirks.

Outside of the SID building, Shen Wei is still frozen in place, contemplating his future actions as he is thumping the Pendant of Pining.

“Should I tell him after all?”

Yes, Shen Wei, you should.

“If I tell him, will that put him in danger?”

I am afraid the the good ship Zhao Yunlan Being In Danger sailed the day Zhao Yunlan became Lord Guardian and Chief of the SID.

(Am I again getting unreasonably frustrated with a fictional character of a show that aired several years ago? You bet I am.)

What follows in the episode is a brief interlude of Zhu Jiu being horrible to Tan Xiao, and making inappropriate comments about him and Zheng Yi. We also learn some of Tan Xiao’s backstory, which expands on his character and explains that the reasons he felt so protective of the little girl was because she reminded him of a sister he once had.

Back to SID offices.

Zhao Yunlan is doodling Shen Wei and the Envoy as he tries to reconcile the two in his mind.

It does sound like he still has doubts that the two are the same person, despite the overwhelming pile of evidence that made him draw to this conclusion in the first place. If anything, it is quite surprising that it took him this long to figure out that the enigmatic mysterious handsome professor and the enigmatic mysterious handsome Envoy are the same person. It is also curious that he seems to think the Envoy is much taller.

Da Qing watches his friend’s mental agony in absolute bewilderment.

Very shortly, they will get a ping for the sound wave energy from somewhere close to Zhu Hong’s home and rush to the scene to find that Zhu Hong has, indeed, been put under mind control, as she attacks Chu Shuzhi.

Here’s another piece of fight choreography for me to tear into.

Okay, good things first. I really like that the actors are doing their own fighting. Jiang Mingyang is generally looking good in combat, and his reactions continue to be on point. Gao Yuer is very flexible, and her kicks are great.

The fight itself however, is another example of the time/money constraints.

The opening punch is… fine. They do lock arms for a split second, which indicates that Zhu Hong properly swung that in rather than stopping the energy, but they are also out of distance, so safety-wise that’s okay-ish, and at full speed it looks alright . But the way Lao Chu is sticking his thumb out and then wraps that around Zhu Hong’s wrist just gave a full body shudder. This is how one gets they thumb dislocated (which I have never done myself, but I hear is very painful) and/or gives their partner a nasty bruise. For anyone out there who needs to hear this, if you ever perform a fight, please tuck your thumbs in line with your fingers and avoid hurting yourself and others. Doing otherwise adds nothing apart from a small but completely avoidable risk of injury.

Then there is this kick-punch-kick combination.

The three moves in isolation are good, but they don’t flow together, at all. I think, and this is pure speculation, that the sweeping punch in the middle was actually meant to follow the previous two moves, then the kick would come next, leading into Chu Shuzhi restraining Zhu Hong. That first kick (which is the same as the third kick, shot from a different angle) just does not belong there as a follow-up to the two punches. I can speculate that it was cut there because it looked cool - which it does - but it also sacrifices any hope this fight had for coherent storytelling.

Then there is a capture and a swivel, very similar to the finishing move used in Zhu Jiu/Sang Zan fight in episode 11. Zhu Hong gets pressed against the tree, and the team shows up to sedate her and bring her back to the headquarters.

Tan Xiao and Zheng Yi watch this scene unfold at a distance, as Zhao Yunlan appears behind them. The SID chief calmly lets Tan Xiao know that he’s been abandoned by Zhu Jiu, and the other man offers no resistance to being captured.

The narrative brings us to the boxing ring, introducing us to it as Zhu Jiu’s energy farm, and then briefly cuts to SID, where Chu Shuzhi realises that they have not retrieved Guo Changcheng. The puppet master springs into action, leaving Lin Jing to wonder since when his friend is so protective of the rookie. If he paid attention, he would have noticed that Chu Shuzhi was protective of the rookie since day one.

We then move to the interrogation of Tan Xiao, which is happening in the hospital set, with Zheng Yi tucked into the hospital bed, even through it was never established that she would need medical attention, and, considering that she would have no issues walking out of the hospital very shortly, she clearly does not. Here, we see some more flashbacks, detailing Tan Xiao and the girl’s backstory, the abuse she suffered, and the bond the two forged. The young man is admitting to all the crimes he had not committed to protect her, and Zhao Yunlan is honestly moved. He sounds almost regretful when he lets Tan Xiao know that he will still be persecuted for his crimes.

Right on cue, Hei Pao Shi portals in.

Zhao Yunlan greets him with a customary “long time no see”, but the most acknowledgement he receives from Shen Wei is a side-eye which does not even focus on his face.

In fact, the Envoy is doing as much as he can to avoid even turning to Zhao Yunlan. He simply announces his purpose to the room in general and teleports Tan Xiao away. It’s easy to see what he is doing. In Shen Wei’s mind, the less communication he has with Zhao Yunlan as Hei Pao Shi, the better are his chances to separate his two personalities in the eyes of the other man. That said, showing an abrupt and uncharacteristic change of behaviour is the opposite of suspicious.

Even Da Qing notices the change Hei Pao Shi.

“Lao Zhao, what did you do to upset him? You used to do small talk, not anymore?”

Zhao Yunlan smirks, replying that he knows the reason why. He then notices the little girl crying, and goes to comfort her the only way he knows how, with a lollipop. When that does not work, he gestures for Da Qing to leave with him, and returns with a familiar black cat and an adorable “ta-dah”. It’s so sweet it makes my teeth hurt.

As this is going on, Hei Pao Shi is being his glorious over the top avenging self. For one, he is actually floating above Tan Xiao, which I don’t think he ever seen him do before. He then proceeds to throttle the young man, lifting him in the air and throwing him back on the ground.

He does so in order to shake the sound wave equipment out of him, sure, but it is easy to assume that Tan Xiao also brought the Envoy’s wrath onto himself by his misguided attempt to hurt Zhao Yunlan earlier that day. It’s deliciously petty; we know that the best way to earn Shen Wei’s ire is by threatening his companion. And, to be fair, Shen Wei had a bad day: this is as good a way as any to get some of that ancient anger out of his system.

As Hei Pao Shi realises that the man he arrested is a simple human armed with some clever technology, and the real homicidal Undergrounder is the girl he is protecting, so does Zhao Yunlan. Even miles away, even when they are having arguments, their analytical brains still work in sync. And, as plot twists go, this one is neat, albeit not entirely unpredictable.

Unfortunately, realising that the girl is dangerous, brings along a realisation that Zhao Yunlan left his friend in her care. He rushes to the hospital to check on Da Qing, finding the ward empty. If this was Zhu Jiu’s plan all along, it’s a good one: having access to a brainwashed SID member would also spell easy access to the headquarters and the Hallows - which is exactly where Zheng Yi leads Da Qing, taking the Hallows and leaving the Yashou to go into a berserk mode as he imagines or remembers Zhao Yunlan/Kunlun saying “I will abandon you”

Next up, episode 13: The Disaster Wedding.

——

Notes.

Every time Shen Wei lies my brain supplies me with Why You Always Lying song. Every. Single. Time. Which means I sing it a lot around the flat, to my partner’s great chagrin.

Whoooo boy and I thought the Episode 10 recap was the crackiest one I’ve done.

#guardian #recap #rewatch #zhao yunlan #shen wei #now with gifs #sometimes my brain is like this #I'm not sorry

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monotonous-minutia · 3 years

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what was your theater experience growing up like? I know you have mentioned it before, but I’d love to hear more!

answering this depends on if you want the long version or the short version. But because I feel like telling it, we're gonna go with the long version.

(also I should preface this by saying I was home schooled and so I did not have any access to theatrical things through school.)

It starts on what seems like an unrelated note.

When I was a little kid (like really little, like 5 or so) my parents would always play lullaby CDs for us (my three brothers and I) when we went to bed. I've had issues with sleep for as long as I can remember, so I continued to listen to music every night until I was maybe 12 or 13 to try and get to sleep.

When I was around 10 I think, my mom's parents sent us a CD for Christmas or someone's birthday that was a lullaby CD, but it was all classical music. I loved it so it became my every night CD. The problem was, I got so into the music, it wouldn't actually put me to sleep. I wanted to stay up and listen to the music and read the sleeve of the CD case to see what all the songs were and who wrote them, and to feel the stories that the music was telling me. It was more than just a series of moms singing essentially “go to sleep” over and over. The music in this CD was interspersed with bits of dialogue that went along with the feeling of the music, and that just fascinated me; how someone could be telling a story with music that didn’t have any words.

So I started getting classical music CDs from the library to listen to during the day, so I could get into it when I wasn’t trying to fall asleep. I was primarily obsessed with Mozart, Vivaldi, and Handel, though I had a lot of other favorites too. There was also this really cool series of CDs that took the music of various composers and used them as a soundtrack for stories about the actual composers (the Classical Kids series) and I just ate them all up. I couldn't get enough.

People started to figure out classical music was just becoming My Thing, so I got a bunch of CDs for my various birthdays/Christmas and from the library. And one day my mom grabbed a CD of Die Zauberflote.

I got obsessed with it and once finished it, I kept listening to it over and over again. Then I wanted to see if there was a video recording of a performance that we could watch, because I loved the story and wanted to see how it would be acted out. The one copy our entire library system had was the Drottingholm Court Theater (1989) one, which to this day remains my favorite.

So now I was on the opera train, and I wanted to hear more. We listened to Nozze (though our mom wouldn't let us watch a video of this one; she said it was inappropriate. Also she hated the idea of a woman dressing up as a boy, so anything Cherubino-related was out); we listened to Barbiere, Carmen, and La boheme (these three we were allowed to watch videos of). After that my brothers got bored, but I didn't. I'd found my new obsession.

I continued to listen to operas on my own (and did occasionally manage to get a video or two in the house to watch). Then, because I am A Nerd, I started reading about them--summaries of ones I couldn't find; researching source material; reading about various performers and opera houses...pretty much anything I could get my hands on. All of this continued up until I went to college, which then took up the majority of my life (although I was able to take advantage of the university’s extensive library which had, among other things, DVDs of the ROH Zauberflote with Diana Damrau and Simon Keenlyside and the Met Hansel and Gretel with Frederica von Stade).

Now there's another aspect of this that contributes. I wrote a lot when I was a kid. Like a LOT. If I wasn't doing school or playing outside or listening to music, I was writing stories. Pretty much all of my old stories are dead now for reasons I won't get into. But one thing that stuck around was the desire to write plays. First I wanted to write an opera; the past few years obsessing over them made me want to write my own. But I couldn’t (and still can’t) read music, or write music, or even play an instrument. In my research, though, I'd found a lot of operas were based on plays, so I figured I could write one, and maybe later on down the line I’d find someone who could put it to music.

The only problem was I'd never seen a play. Not even a recording of one. it’s hard to write a play if you’ve never seen one and don’t understand how theater works.

I tried to remedy this by just reading a lot of plays. Our library had an entire section dedicated to drama, about three shelves big. I spent a lot of time there. I tried to figure out what made a good play, but you know, you just can't get the same experience without seeing one.

Then, when I was around 15 I think, I got my first "babysitting" gig, which was just me watching my little brother play video games with a kid a little younger than him. While I watched them play, I talked to the kid's mom (who was there so it really wasn't a gig), and I found out she was an actress that worked and volunteered at some local theaters.

I'd found my way in.

When I encountered her again, I asked if she knew of any ways I could get involved in the theater scene in town (there were a surprising amount of theaters nearby). There were two in particular that needed volunteers, so she connected me to some people. I got to know the staff at the theaters, help out in the box office, do some backstage stuff, usher, and occasionally help the actors with their lines and blocking. But the best part was I got to see a ton of shows for free by virtue of being a volunteer. During the next two summers, I was seeing a show almost every week, sometimes multiple times a week. It was glorious.

I also got to be involved in some of their youth shows; I actually got a few acting parts despite the fact that I'm a pretty bad actor and horrible at memorizing lines. More fun than that, I got to help out as a sort of assistant director for some children's theater workshops put on by local actors. Every Saturday for a summer, I went to one of the theaters to help guide a group of kids (it changed every week) in theater activities and act out a Roald Dahl story that they then performed for their parents. I absolutely loved doing this; I loved working alongside professional performers; I loved being able to participate in theater on a level I was comfortable with; I loved that I could get out of my freaking house; and I loved working with the kids. (Incidentally this is also what got me interested in working with kids, which has been my profession for the past six years.) So that, plus the volunteering, was the biggest part of my theater experience growing up.

Side note, it was through the magic of theater (and one enormous crush on a fellow volunteer) that made me realize I was gay. Of course, because the managers of one of the theaters ALSO happened to be gay (and married), my parents figured I'd been Converted(tm), and that's where the positivity about theater in my house ended. But once I got to college, I had fewer restraints, so I was free to get involved in theater (though I quickly realized a theater major was not for me). I did a bit of acting (never in mainstage shows), but mostly I participated in playwright groups and events. This is where I began writing plays in earnest and actually became good at it. It helped me get over the whole not-being-able-to-act thing. Plus I got to see a lot of shows because they were either a) free or b) severely discounted for students.

I almost got to go to a Big City to participate in a regional college theater festival by virtue of participating in a classmate’s theater project, but for reasons I also don’t need to go into, I was literally the only one who ended up not being able to go.

Aside from that though (an the ill-fated class I mentioned to you a while back), most of my theater experiences have been really positive, and I’m really grateful for that because it helped me get through some tough times at home. Plus there’s nothing like the joy of being involved in live performance. Once COVID winds down and I’m done with school, I want to see if I can get involved in some of the local theater groups in my city. I do still have a connection with one theater group from my old hometown (the one that did the readings of my plays), but the pandemic really put a nix on that. They’re still doing some virtual stuff though.

So anyway that’s probably way more information than you wanted but yeah. That’s my story.

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theatredirectors · 4 years

Text

Derek Spencer

Hometown?

Southwest suburbs of Chicago.

Where are you now?

Los Angeles.

What's your current project?

Everyone Agrees it's About to Explode -- a devised, immersive, site-specific piece about a group of leftist revolutionaries. The audience is cast as new recruits in the collective, and witness the dissolution of the group firsthand. The show is devised along with a model that I've been developing with my company, Ceaseless Fun, for the last 4 years or so.

Why and how did you get into theatre?

I auditioned to act in a Shakespeare play on a whim in my 3rd year of college, having no prior theater experience. I had fun but otherwise didn't think much of it. Then, the following year, I was asked to audition for a devised production of HamletMachine. It was on that production that I fell in love with the collaborative devising process. I didn't love acting, but I never felt so artistically capable as I did when I was working in a collaborative rehearsal room. I directed a small devised workshop production right before graduating, and knew that I had to keep directing, no matter what.

What is your directing dream project?

I feel lucky to be in a position in which I am able to pursue whatever passion projects I have with my company. I often feel like my next project is always my dream project. I think the only limiting factor for us is money, so my dream project is probably something huge and spectacle-y. I've thought about a big, sandbox immersive production that adapts the Bosch painting The Garden of Earthly Delights, but makes it 1970's LA. So it's just this surreal, decadent, horrifying experience of celebrity and class-division. Maybe there are two floors, heaven, and hell, and mostly the audience is in hell, but they all get 15 minutes of fame to spend indulging the hedonism of heaven. The floors could be porous so you're always aware of what's happening on the other side. I want red carpets as bridges over pits of eternal torment, 1970’s cars as Burning Man-style monster vehicles, prosthetic-heavy demon-celebs, just truly insane shit. Maybe a pool with a swim-up bar like on cruise ships? I'd likely pull a lot of the text from the King James Bible. This probably makes me sound really tacky but I don't care, someone give me ten million dollars to make this happen.

What kind of theatre excites you?

I like:

plays where philosophy is made emotional

plays that play with space, acknowledge their surroundings and make suspension of disbelief unnecessary

plays that fit the container to the contents

plays that shock me out of passivity

plays that present something so abject or upsetting that I can't get it out of my head for days

plays where everyone thinks they know what the creators intended but all the interpretations are different

plays that show me myself, or help me understand how to be human, or make me feel more like a human

What do you want to change about theatre today?

I think theatre will only thrive as an art form if theatermakers aren't afraid to explore the medium and how it can be made relevant to young, contemporary audiences.

What is your opinion on getting a directing MFA?

I think I'd love the actual experience of being in grad school, but the cost worries me. Even "fully funded" programs still don't fully cover living expenses. It feels hard to know whether grad school will pay off professionally or if I'll graduate with similar career prospects and more debt. I've debate applying every year, but haven't yet pulled the trigger.

Who are your theatrical heroes?

Anne Bogart, Richard Schechner, Shunt, Third Rail Projects, Punchdrunk, Dimitris Papaioannou, Carolee Schneemann, Karen Finley, Artaud, Heiner Muller, Pete Brooks, anyone making free theater.

Any advice for directors just starting out?

See a lot, read a lot. Remember that you'll always be A Dumb Idiot Baby but also A Towering Egomaniac and that somehow you have to figure out when it's appropriate to be which. You don't have to accept every offer you get, sometimes offers are bad. Anyone can make theater you just need a room and 1 or more audience members and sometimes all that extra stuff gets in the way. Work with people that you would trust to raise your hypothetical children if you hypothetically die. Being an artist is an unreasonable and irresponsible decision to make under neo-liberalism unless you have a trust fund (then it's irresponsible for other reasons) and you'll have to grapple with that at some point so you might as well do it right now.

Plugs!

ceaselessfun.com

The run Everyone Agrees It's About to Explode has been cancelled due to the pandemic. We hope to remount as soon when everything is over!

Follow Ceaseless Fun on IG for updates.

derekaspencer.com

IG: @ceaseless_fun or @abstract_sentimentalism

Editor Note- updated in November 2020

#Derek Spencer #askadirector #theatredirectors

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xephinatheeleven · 6 years

Text

Movie Nights

Word Count: 5,966

Summary: Roman wants the other sides to understand the passion he has for musicals and theatrics, and just when he thinks no one will see what he sees, Virgil surprises him.

Warnings: Panic Implied

Pairings: Platonic Prinxiety

———

Roman knew it was obvious to anyone he knew that he had a deep adoration for anything pertaining to Disney, Broadway, and musicals, but for him it wasn’t enough. He relished in the lights when Thomas took to the stage, and it was a wonderful feeling, but the other sides didn’t seem to understand quite why the productions enraptured him so. The Prince longed for the day when his family would finally experience first-hand the joy he found in the acting and music, whether he was a part of it or not. He even went as far as to set up movie nights, in which he could only hope the others would learn to see what he adored so deeply.

Despite the regularity of the events, Patton was the only one who never failed to join him, so he was probably the closest to understanding his enthusiasm. There was still some sort of disconnect, the fatherfigure was excited about everything, and there was nothing different to his reactions when he watched. Meanwhile, Logan agreed to be in attendance about half of the time, and that was only when his work didn’t interfere with the gatherings. He didn’t fool the creativetrait though, he may claim to hate any and all emotions, but something told him that the intellectual had at the least an appreciation for theatrics. Virgil on the other hand was the one he was having the hardest time getting through to, seeing as he came up with any excuse possible to get out of the occasions. The fancifulaspect had tried every type of musical he could think of from Richard Rogers to old black-and-white classics, from full movie productions to recorded plays, but nothing seemed to draw the interest of the negativefacet.

Roman smiled to himself as he started for the stairs, because the movie night he had planned was going to be different this time around. He had finally after months of choosing movie after movie, and a week of non-stop asking and pestering, convinced Anxiety to join them in watching Les Misérables. The visionarycharacter knew that his constant nagging would more than likely bring his friend into the situation with a close-minded attitude, but he just had to pray that the majesty of the production would change his outlook. His zeal only grew at the smell of buttered popcorn and other junk foods, which was accompanied by the sight of his colleagues chatting in the kitchen. Morality was pouring snacks into bowls, and had just told one of his jokes judging by Logic’s exasperated expression. Across from them the darkestpersona leaned against the counter with his headphones on, but it wasn’t long before his gaze shifted to the steps, drawing the attention of the other two as well.

There was more than likely some small detail that was considerably negligible to the rest of them that had alerted the youngestside to his presence, but that being the case or not, the way he was able to pick up on such things still managed to baffle Princey. “You have your headphones on, how do you do that?”

He was forced to repeat himself as his gloomycounterpart turned off his music, and an air of confusion settled over him as he heard the question properly, “how do I do what?”

The academic was quick to jump into the conversation, “I believe Roman is referring to the way in which you can identify someone’s presence even before they make it known. In this particular case, you were somehow capable of knowing he was on the stairs before he said anything, and that is an ability that still manages to elude us.”

Virgil scoffed under his breath, before suddenly looking between the two of them, “I’m not laughing at you. If anything I’m laughing at myself, because I always forget that you guys don’t see and treat everything as if it could pose a threat…that’s not a bad thing.” He swiftly gestured for the whimsicaltrait to stop as he started again for the first-floor, “I want to see if any of you can figure out how I noticed.” As he fell silent, each of them tried looking and listening to their surroundings intently, doing their best to pick up on the smallest of details that they would otherwise miss. One by one however, they turned to face the observantaspect in defeat, who merely shook his head, “Roman, do me a favor, raise your hand and pretend to wave at us.” Giving him an unconvinced look which surely displayed his skepticism, he did as he was asked. The fight-or-flight reflex shifted his gaze, and until he spoke, the imaginativefacet thought he was gazing at Patton, “look there.” He gestured to the wall above them, “it’s faint…but you can just barely see his shadow moving above the stove.” Sure enough, just where he had said there was a soft outline of his hand moving back and forth against the white backdrop, “er…you can stop waving now Sir Sing-A-Lot.”

The Prince quickly returned his hand to his side and continued down the steps, he had been right, the detail picked up by the youngestembodiment was one that he never would have seen on his own. He shook his head to clear it, “shadows or no, it’s good to finally have you join us for a movie night.”

“It’s not like I had much of a choice, you’ve been bothering me about it for ages,” Anxiety rolled his eyes, popping a pretzel in his mouth. “Every time you’ve seen me, you’ve practically begged…again.”

“Well we’re glad to have you with us either way!” The kindestpersonification smiled despite the disinterested response, with both him and Logan taking the bowls from the counter and heading into the common-room. “Come on kiddos! I want to hear the people sing!” The two who still stood in the kitchen shared a look, laughing under their breath, but he didn’t know if that was because of the pun or the annoyed reaction from the rationalfigment. The lighterattribute didn’t seem to notice as he hummed, skipping down the hall, nearly spilling the snacks with each step.

Joining their companions in from of the television, he and Virgil took their seats on the sofa while the logical and moralsides opted to sit on the floor. Their backs rested against the ottomans on which the others placed their feet, keeping them from having to squish uncomfortably together on the couch. They each choose a snack they preferred, and made sure their glasses were full as the analyticaltrait navigated through the trailers and menus. The darkestaspect pulled out his phone, and for a brief moment Roman prepared to reprimand him, the movie hadn’t even begun and yet he was already choosing not to pay attention. He held his tongue however when he saw what the one sitting to his left was actually doing, he silenced the device and returned it to his pocket without a glance to any of them. Perhaps things weren’t going to be as dismal as he had feared, if the negativemanifestation was willing to truly watch, then maybe, hopefully, he would be intrigued enough by the film to watch another later on. It was a long shot, but his friend may yet be able to find that he could appreciate the musicals in the same way that the creativearchetype did.

Eventually the intellectual got the DVD to play, and the movie began with its signature flag-in-the-water opening over the dramatic score of the first song. Princey knew he only had one shot to convince the observantfacet, so he could only pray that he had chosen a production that would grab his interest. He was also aware that the one he was trying to convince often became irritated with the way he could recite every line of a movie; therefore, he did his best not to do so. He did slip up when it came to singing his favorite pieces, which if he was being honest was most of them.

As the story progressed, he wasn’t surprised as the lightestcharacter slowly drifted off, resting his head against Anxiety’s ottoman. He had spent most of the day cleaning, and that was all before they had to go and film a video with Thomas, so his fatigue was understandable. The fancifulattribute made a mental note as he had in times past to make sure their colleague got to bed once the film had concluded. The gloomiersidecast a glance to the sleeping figure, and it was clear that he had noticed too, seeing as he returned his eyes to the screen without a word.

He had no idea how much time had passed when the teacher stood with his glass in hand, and started for the kitchen, supposedly to refill it, and that was when Roman heard it. Over the footsteps, and the soft breathing of the fatherlytrait was something he had never before witnessed during one of the movie nights. A voice that was shockingly clear despite the low volume it maintained, following each of Javert’s riffs and notes in the song Stars, butundoubtedly better than Russell Crowe’s. Pattonwas asleep, and Logan out of the room, so that left only one other who could be singing, and with thesurprising realization, he made sure not to move for fear that Virgil would take notice of the shift in his attention and stop.

Remaining still and quiet, the whimsicalaspectwas astounded by how striking the other’s voice was, and he was momentarily left to wonder why he’d never made the observation before. Doing his best to recall any point in the past where his companion had dared to lift his tone in song, he found that thefight-or-flight reflex had either been disinterested, or forced into singing, and had his low and raspy inflection not betrayed that? Now the words had lost that edge, and though it was hardly more than a whisper, his voice was strong with a sense of passion and professionalism he’d never heard in his friend before.

Somewhere beneath the awe, Princey had a feeling of accomplishment, not only had he succeeded in getting hisapprehensivecounterpart to join them, but he was clearly more impressed with the musical than expected. Looking to his left without turning his head, there was something about the way Anxiety’s eyes were trained on the screen, which made it appear he wasn’t aware of his singing. That was something the visionaryfacet constantly guilty of, and also caused relief to course though him. The other was so encapsulated; he had for once failed to notice the minor detail,which was the lack of Roman’s own voice.

Realization struck him with such ferocity that it felt like a physical blow, in that instant he saw a part of himself reflected in someone he had once considered to be an enemy. The idea spoke volumes to him; they had both come so far that something which would have at one time been used as a mockery was now a commonality. Their friendship had strengthened with time, but it was still difficult for the two of them to find any sort of shared interest since in personality alone they differed so greatly. At the thought, it began to sink in just how far his success reached; it was more than just introducing his colleague to something he cherished. Instead he had managed, if only by accident, to find a way in which to come to a better understanding with someone he had gone against so avidly in the past. Had he not been so focused on his own joy, the Prince may have picked up on the most crucial detail during the movie as opposed to after, especially since it was one that should not have been so easily missed. The darkly-dressed side already knew all of the lyrics to the songs he was singing along to, meaning it was far from the first time he had seen the film.

Virgil yawned as the end credits scrolled across the screen, it had been a long day, and though it wasn’t uncommon for him, the movie had kept them up late into the night. Morality had actually fallen asleep less than halfway through the film, leaning against the ottoman on which the negativetrait had been resting his feet. He might have done the same, but he couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Les Misérables, and his fear of the others finding out how much he enjoyed the movie would more than likely keep him from seeing it again in the near future. Despite the way he had fought against Roman on the subject of the movie night, he hadn’t wanted to miss out on one of his favorite productions again, and had only resisted to avoid suspicion. He often considered giving up on his façade and just telling the others how much he cherished musicals, but after the way the creativeaspect had mocked to him for being a Disney fan, he didn’t dare. Anxiety knew that it wasn’t fair for him to have to avoid something he loved so, but he couldn’t handle the idea of being mocked like that again. He had put on a brave face and used insults to cover the shame that had flooded him in the previous argument, but as soon as he was away from the camera he had wondered if he even had the right to like the movies.

The gloomierfacet tried to clear his mind of the thoughts, and became worried for a moment that the Prince was onto him before he knelt down and picked up the fatherlycharacter. A small nod was the only acknowledgement he gave to himself and Logan before he turned and made his way up the stairs. After a reasonable amount of time, he left the academic to shut down the entertainment system, and returned to his corner of the mindscape. Once there he knew his odds of getting any sleep were slim, so he sat back on his bed and took out his phone. Placing his headphones over his ears, he chose to listen to a playlist of song from the Les Misérables as opposed to his usual Fall Out Boy or Green Day music.

Virgil had gone through about half of the list, listening to In My life / A Heart full of Love when, even without his hearing, he noticed someone was at his door from the shadows that shifted beneath it. Making sure to pause his music he pondered who would want his attention so late, and decided that he wouldn’t be disturbed if it wasn’t important, so he deftly moved to greet the visitor. He was more than a little shocked when the threshold revealed Roman, but nervousness overcame the feeling as the younger of the two realized that his expression was unreadable.

He placed his headphones around his neck so the other would know he could hear, but he was at a loss for words, so the fancifulside spoke first, “silence doesn’t make for a very warm welcome Hot Topic.”

Shaking his head to clear away the confusion, he did his best to formulate a response, “well I’m not exactly used to visitors Sir Sing-A-Lot.”

Princey merely shrugged at the words, his eyes betraying nothing, “decided to change things up a bit…I’ll help you with the welcoming thing though. Generally someone would say ‘would you like to come in.’”

The observantpersona glanced back to his room, “you know as well as I do that it is risky for anyone else to come in here.” He paused, turning back, “if you want to talk, it might be better for the two of us to go down to the commons.”

“Works for me,” even with his nonchalant tone, Anxiety did see the glimmer of relief that passed though his otherwise blank expression as he started for the stairs. He knew well that the horrors of a panic-attack weren’t easily forgotten, so it was understandable that his colleague was more comfortable conversing in an environment where there was less risk of going though one.

Closing the door behind him, the negativetrait swiftly followed hiswhimsicalcounterpartto the first-floor, and he didn’t know what to make of the smug look he was given when he arrived. “Why are you looking at me like that?” He decided as Roman gestured for him to sit, that he preferred the unreadable expression he was given prior to the one he was granted presently.

Nothing else was said until the apprehensiveaspect had taken the seat across from his friend, “humor me. What made you decide to join us this evening?”

Virgil didn’t know what he had expected, but that wasn’t it, “I told you earlier that you pestered me endlessly.”

“Fair enough,” once again confusion draped over him like a cold washcloth, the Prince never gave in that easily, so now he was left to wonder what the other was planning. He looked in the direction of the blank television, “did you enjoy the movie though?”

In a desperate attempt to hide his worries, he chose to use a sarcastic inflection in his voice, “do you question Logan and Patton after every movie like this?”

He didn’t miss the exasperated glare the imaginativeattribute shot in his direction, “no, but something caught my attention earlier.” Suddenly the glare was replaced by a knowing look that unnerved the darkercharacter, “now, since you don’t seem willing to answer my question…I’ll answer it for you. You did enjoy the film, but it’s more than that…you’ve seen Les Mis before, and I’d be willing to bet you’ve seen it more than once.”

The gloomierside had no way of knowing how he could have figured out a secret he tried so desperately to hide, so the claim threw him completely off his guard, and he hated himself for the way the shock caused his voice to crack. “What the hell are you talking about?”

His self-hatred only grew when the visionarytrait gave him a victorious smile, “I thought Patton told us lying is wrong. I will say this much though, it took me way too long to realize how much you liked the movie.” He paused, staring at the far wall, “at first I thought I had just succeeded in introducing you to a musical you liked…” Trailing off Roman locked eyes with him, “then I realized that you knew all of the lyrics.” Anxiety knew he must have looked as horror-stricken as he felt; somehow he had managed to fail at holding his tongue, and not only shown that he enjoyed the film, but that he knew it, and well. He couldn’t remember any point, at which he had sung along with the characters, but there was no reason for the one sitting across from him to lie. Princey spoke again before he could find his voice however, “I know singing isn’t really your thing Virge, but you look like you're almost sick with fear…are you okay?”

Was he okay, he didn’t know, but he did know that he felt sick from the realization of his mistake, and wished he could return to his room and never leave again. There was no mistake he could have made in the situation he had fought tooth-and-nail to avoid that could have been worse than the one the observantaspect had just been made aware of. Now his oversight was going to force him to withstand the same berating he had received in the past, and he wasn’t sure how well he was going to deal with it. Taking a deep breath, he failed miserably to keep his voice steady, “did either of the others notice?”

The confusion in the eyes of the creativefacet was momentarily lapsed by joy, “you do like musicals!” He cleared his throat, and concern overshadowed his elation, “Patton was asleep, and as smart as he may be, Logan is blind to anything but his work, so as far as I know, no one realized but me.” Virgil didn’t dare to look up, even though he felt some relief from the confirmation that his mistake had gone unnoticed by the others, it was the one who had heard him that worried him most.

Roman couldn’t help but feel like his anxiouscounterpart was acting completely out of character, “you're starting to scare me now Hot Topic…you look like you're about to pass out.”

A few seconds of silence filled the air as the fight-or-flight reflex leaned back in his chair, clearly trying to push away some sort of panic, “I-I’m fine, j-just thinking?”

The way he spoke as if he wasn’t in control of his thoughts unnerved the fancifulmanifestation, and even worse he felt that it was somehow his fault. He had been so excited to find a commonality between the two of them, but something had gone horribly wrong, this was not at all how he had expected his companion to react. He thought over every word of the conversation, each expression, and gesture, trying to find anything he may have done to destroy the one chance he had of strengthening his friendship with the negativeside. Without the observational skills of the other though, he was at a complete loss, but he did know in one way or another the blame was on him. “Virge, I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but I didn’t mean anything by what I said. I was just glad you liked the movie.” He paused, but his colleague didn’t look up, “I’ve always enjoyed musicals, and I wanted you and the others to enjoy them too.” He cast his own gaze in the direction of the television, “I had hoped I’d finally stumbled onto something we had in common…but I guess not.” He did his best to push away the disappointment that threatened to choke him, “anyway, I’m sorry I bothered you.”

The Prince got to his feet, ready to leave Anxiety to his thoughts, but the voice of the latter brought him to a halt, “I do enjoy musicals…but do you understand why I never told anyone that?” The whimsicalaspect turned back to the speaker, and was taken aback by the faint glimmer of hurt in his eyes. Racking his mind for an answer to the question that had been asked of him, he was only able to shake his head, perfectly aware that he was just as blind to the reason as he had been to his own shadow. The younger of the two apparently picked up on his bewilderment, “I’ll give you a hint, musicals aren’t the first thing we've had in common.” He stopped, and for a moment the creativefacet didn’t think he was going to continue, “you’ll have to think back pretty far…before you even knew my name.”

The hint did little to aid Roman in recalling the memory that was being alluded to, as far as he knew; there had been nothing they shared when his friend went by the alias of Anxiety. Slowly, understanding began to sink in however, and as he came to the revelation, it was all he could do to stifle a physical reaction. The visionarycharacter felt like the moron Logic always claimed him to be; the answer was a simple topic that could have been used to help months in advance to mend the rift with the one sitting before him. Instead he had chosen to mock and berate his enemy-turned-ally, and it was no wonder the negativefigment feared the same reaction presently, “oh god…how could I have let myself forget that?”

As he trailed off the darkerside managed to find his tongue, “don’t beat yourself up too much Sir Sing-A-Lot, my attitude and sharp remarks weren’t exactly a friendly gesture.”

The imaginativetrait couldn’t believe what he was hearing, the other had been the one to take the blow, to feel the pain of their previous conversation, and yet, he was willing to shift at least part of the blame to himself. “I literally laughed in your face when you told me you were a Disney fan.” He placed his head in his hands at the recollection, “if you had said that to me…I hate to say it, but I probably would have come after you like the dragon-witch.” Princey was in no way proud of how he had acted, but he was royalty, and to anyone with a drop of royal-blood in them, it was necessary for them to own up to their mistakes, and have the integrity to try and amend them. As he sat back down, he came to the realization he had faltered at that post until now, always too self-aggrandized to admit he was wrong.

Virgil actually sounded genuinely amused, “with some of what I said, and the way I phrased it, I’m amazed you didn’t come after me with a sword.”

“I lashed out at you first, even having the gall to accuse you of an action that I was also guilty of. I had always assumed you were acting to some extent, with self-defense in that video, but that in no way excuses me.” He paused, running his hands down his face and letting them land in his lap, “you felt singled out, and I only served to make that worse…always served to make that worse.”Roman probably resembled the one he spoke to more than himself with the way his shoulders were hunched forwards, “hell…in the end, you were the one who ended up being the bigger person.”

He didn’t miss the confusion in the glance he was given by the apprehensivefacet, “what are you talking about?All I did was try and disprove every point you made.”

The fancifulaspect looked over to the one he had wronged for so many years, “sure, but after Thomas tried to help us come to an agreement, it was you who claimed, ‘I never said Princey was wrong.’ After that however, I still chose to take another stab, and insult you again as we synced out.”

Anxietygave a disgruntled sigh, but he had a feeling that his negatively-perceivedcounterpart was angry with himself, “at the time no one, including you, had any idea that I didn’t want to be an outcast.” He looked over to the steps, where he would sit were they in the real world, but his gaze glittered with disinterest, “that was only the third video I had shown up in. Back then I tried work against you all, to be the antagonist, and I wore the title like a badge of honor.” He let his gaze fall to the floor, “it wasn’t until I saw what I could be…who I could be, that I realized I didn’t want to be the bad guy. I hate to even say this, but even after you all had accepted me, I didn’t really believe I was part of the group until Deceit came in, and it was then that I noticed just what I had done, and how far I had come since my introduction…”

Roman blinked in shock, amazed that he was the one the fight-or-flight reflex had chosen to share such a meaningful truth with, and he had no idea how to repay the favor. “Whether we knew that or not…whether I knew that or not, what I did was wrong, and utterly unfair to you. No matter what you said to me, I should have had the courage to be at the very least accepting, if not kind, even to someone who could have been considered an enemy…and for that I apologize.”

Virgil had to admit, the last thing he had expected from a conversation pertaining to a musical was an apology from someone he used to despise. “There’s not really anything for you to apologize for, over the last few months I’ve forgiven all of you for anything you may have said against, or misconceptions you may have had of me.” After that sappy line, the one thing he wanted was to get out from under the look of sympathy that had been placed upon him, “You were right though, I do like Les Mis, and yes I have seen it before…multiple times actually.”

The look of joy that crossed the expression of the whimsicalside actually startled him, but it was what he said next that really took him by surprise, “I never would have thought that you would like musicals.”

“What do you mean?” The observanttrait wasn’t sure what his colleague was getting at, but since the conversation hadn’t devolved into an argument yet, he was willing to see what it was leading up to.

The Prince beamed, looking from him to the television and back again, “I live and breathe musicals, whether they are stage-productions, or full-length films, whether I’m in them or not. I’ve always had a passion for them, and I’ve done my best in the past to get you guys to see that as well, that’s actually why I started the movie nights in the first place. That being said, though I mean no offence in saying this, it seems like I am the only one who is able to look past the plot and see the beauty that the music and cinematography holds.” He paused, glancing at the floor, “did any of that make sense to you?”

The darker of the two chuckled, “I think I get what you're trying to say, despite the fact that we have seen the movies, we don’t appreciate the smaller details like you do.” He tried to come up with an analogy that would help him get his point across, “have you ever seen Sherlock?” His friend nodded, allowing for him to continue, “there is a quote from the first episode that sums up your struggle pretty well, ‘you see but you do not observe.’”

“Yes!” The enthusiastic response caused him to jump, but he quickly regained his composure as the other explained further. “I’ve tried desperately to get you all to ‘observe’ the films, but nothing has worked thus far.”

As he came to a halt the negativeaspect could almost feel the pain his companion was in, “you know Sir Sing-A-Lot, you may not have been the one to introduce me to them, but I enjoy musicals far more than you think I do, I just never said so. The actual reason I joined you all tonight wasn’t because you pestered me, I just used that as an excuse. The truth is Les Mis is one of my favorite movies, and because I didn’t want anyone knowing how much I liked it, I knew it would be a long time before I would get another chance to watch it…and I didn’t want to pass up the opportunity.”

Roman looked at him in awe, “Wait are you saying what I think you're saying?”

“Yes, I love musicals just as much as you do, the acting, the characters, the score, the lighting and sound, the costumes, and so on; I’m just not as vocal about it as you are.” He allowed the other a moment to take in what he had said before continuing, “just like your shadow on the wall earlier, I pick up on the smallest of things, and in the case of musicals and movies, I actually like having that capability. It’s just like you said, it’s extremely enjoyable to look past the plot and appreciate the work and effort that it took to make the production as beautiful as it is.”

The creativefacet looked for a moment like he was at a loss for words, but the glimmer of elation, and to some extent relief in his eyes betrayed how happy he really was. “Y-You actually do love musicals the way I do, you understand!”

“Of course I do,” Anxiety honestly felt a little guilty that he had said nothing to his counterpart on the subject in the past. “I had my reasons for saying nothing, but now knowing your reaction, I wish I had told you what I thought sooner. I honestly didn’t know it bothered you so much that you believed no one truly saw what you saw in these productions; again, I would have said something sooner if I had.”

“I’m just glad someone else gets it, I was afraid that I would never get it though to any of you, and I would be forced to care so deeply for these films alone.” He suddenly took on a look of concern, “hold on, it is unfair that I can enjoy these musicals whenever I so please, and yet you have to as you said, ‘wait for the opportunity’ to watch them.” He was going to respond but the visionarycharacter beat him to it, “I understand that you may not want the others to know that you like these movies…but now that I know, we may be able to work something out. At the very least I could loan you my DVDs whenever you want, but watching with a friend is much more fun.” He looked at the ground, clearly trying to come up with some sort of idea to solve their current dilemma, “I know, we can use my dream-space! It would be safe for both of us to enter without fear of corruption, and let’s be honest; did anyone expect me not to have a screening room in there? We could watch the films there, allowing for you to watch them without having the others be any the wiser!”

Virgil couldn’t believe what he was hearing, someone he had clashed with for so long now offering to share something he cherished so deeply with him, “you know what, I might just take you up on that offer. It’s about time we actually started beingfriends as opposed to just acting like we are around the others.”

Princey seemed to light up at his agreeance, but there was more to it than just the confession that he enjoyed musicals, “I think you're right. We’ve accepted one another, but outside of activities that the other two partake in, we haven’t really acted like friends, we should change that.”

“Agreed,”the younger of the two genuinely smiled, “it has been a long time since I’ve seen any musicals; so, where do you think we should start?”

He looked like he had just been asked again to choose his favorite Disney movie, “okay…well, Fiddler on the Roof is brilliant. Oh, then there’s My Fair Lady, and we can’t forget Carousel or Phantom of the Opera, but then there’s The Music Man, and I haven’t even gotten to Disney yet!” Apparently he realized he was rambling, because he came to a halt, “I know, let’s go classic and watch The Wizard of Oz!”

“I’m game.”

Over time the others did find out about Virgil’s love of musicals, but no one mocked him, and even reacted to his fear in the same way that Roman did, and he even started joining the movie nights as much as Patton. The best part however was that he and the imaginative side actually did end up bonding over the shared interest, watching the films, and discussing what they liked and disliked about each one. They even matured to the point that they could disagree on a particular musical and not become angry over the topic, overall strengthening their friendship. After a time they found other things they had in common with one another that didn’t have anything to do with films, and started talking as friends would even without the pressure of the others forcing them to interact.Anxiety had to admit being on better terms with the Prince made it easier for him to be with his family at all, and empowered him to stand up for them when the need arose.

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bachelorette-pnw · 6 years

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Season 14, Episode 3: “Second childhood”

This week’s two main plot points were a contrived meeting between Colton and Tia (snooze) and the sad departure of Clay, who was genuinely a standout hubby candidate and nice person. The contrast between Clay—a sweet, family-oriented man who is willing to be vulnerable and soft in front of other men—and Reek (the male model), a physical embodiment of toxic masculinity, was particularly striking this week. There were a lot of puffed-up chests, shoulder-clapping, and high-fiving. Pushups and sports. It was an Old Spice wet dream.

Reek exists to remind the other men in the mansion how to abide by masculine norms, calling people ‘bitches’ when they fall out of line and generally being horrible. If a medieval sculptor wanted to create an allegorical figure that embodied Toxic Masculinity to set beside Synagogia and Philosophia, Reek would be it. His greatest crime, though, according to the other men, is how much time he spends picking out his clothes. In other words, they code his flaws as feminine and react to his outbursts with amusement rather than antagonism; they are not threatened.

Reek gets a rose:

A particularly telling moment about this attitude toward femininity takes place in the spa, when Becca’s girlfriends cheerfully paint the men’s nails (a moment of gender play we all remember from high school, a way of testing boys’ sense of security). The men put up with the exercise because they think it is comical: Isn’t it silly to try to look pretty as a man? Isn’t being a girl stupid? Hardly an attitude that seems appropriate when the goal is to win over a woman, but there you go. In The Bachelorette universe, nail polish on men does not signify a loosening gender binary, but rather a joke about how humiliating it is to come across as feminine. Reek overcompensates for his pickiness about clothing by calling men ‘bitches,’ tearing into Chicken Suit Guy for being a wuss, emphasizing his ‘professionality’ in dealing with women (as if they are transactions to be handled), and generally abiding by the more sinister features of toxic bro code.

Yes, he is wearing a chicken suit:

Speaking of bro code: David, our venture capitalist Chicken Suit Guy, overhears Reek telling a ridiculous story about his 100% match rate after 4,000 swipes on Tinder. Chicken Guy decides to tell this to Becca; he is a child telling on someone to a teacher. He speaks almost in a whisper, face and hand gestures like a sculpture titled, ‘So lame, right?’ Later, Becca high-fives Reek in front of the group, congratulating him on his conquests, and he feels burned. Reek is the villain, no doubt, yet he comes off looking good by comparison. Chicken Guy looks around for reassurance: ‘You all thought what he was saying was ridiculous? Right, guys? Right?’ But Chicken Guy broke the bro code, rule 112, stating ‘thou shalt not divulge to women the dealings of men.’ Reek was being particularly stupid by bragging about his match rate on a show where he is supposedly trying to meet a soulmate. You never see him having a one-on-one with the camera talking about how ‘he really thinks he is falling for her’ (most of them do it and we want to throw garbage at them). But, competition aside, Chicken Guy’s betrayal threatens the men: he removed a safe space for everyone. They need to be able to talk about the gross stuff they need to talk about. You know, locker room talk. Grab ‘em by the pussy kind of stuff. Becca probably deserves to know that some of these dudes are assholes (though let’s be honest, she already knows; Reek is fooling no one but Reek). Even so, Chicken Guy is shunned because he divulged the foolish ramblings of one man to a woman. It is as though they all know they are full of shit, collectively, and someone broke rank. That’s not how this works, Chicken Guy, we are here to win someone (or something in Reek’s case). Winning is more important than emotion.

Fan favorite and all around real person Clay:

The group dates reinforce the importance of physical prowess, whereas the one-on-one dates force emotional vulnerability. Clay unfortunately falls victim to the physical competition of the group date and breaks his wrist during a football game, which sucks because he is actually an NFL player and needs his wrist to work. He is carried home on the sacrificial altar of bro code. His departure is telling: here is this BFG (big friendly giant, big fucking dude, whatever you want) who by all accounts shouldn’t be on the show. He is friendly and sincere, earnest and vulnerable. He is does not appear overly bright, nor does he appear overly dim. This is his biggest strength. He seems to care sincerely about the going-ons of the other competitors, who would eagerly feed this teddy bear through a meat grinder if it meant they could hump Becca’s leg for 30 seconds. While all of these other doofy bros twiddle their finely-manicured mustaches and bump into walls, Clay simply is. His strategy is that he is Clay and he likes Becca. Butterflies land on him as he reads the Bible in a park. He is not very exciting, but so what? He is as constant as the North Star.

In contrast to this effective display of physical prowess, Chad—or no, Chris—we literally can’t keep all these white bros straight—is put to the test of emotional vulnerability during a one-on-one date at Capitol Records. The minimum requirement of a ‘one-on-one’ is to open up about your past, your family life, your relationships, to lay on the table all your various hang-ups from previous experiences and beg for understanding. (Preferably before tongue kissing). The more baggage the better, as long as you cop to it. ChadChris struggles with this because his dad left when he was seven and rejected his attempts to reunite later. In other words, Chris’s emotional toolbox is fucked. But he has to do well: if Becca doesn’t give him a rose at dinner, he will have to go home, missing out on his only chance at love. He slumps in the hallway of Capitol Records, full of anguish. There is real pain here and it sucks to watch. Becca snuggles up for a pep talk, reminding us of a mom encouraging her adolescent son. He finds the courage to write a sweet song for her and passes the test.

We have mixed feelings about getting vulnerable on first dates. On the one hand it makes sense because the contestants have a limited amount of time to get to know each other, and ‘opening up’ early on is really the only way to ramp up to a proposal that feels authentic at the end. But in this environment, opening up to another person doesn’t happen naturally, as it would in real life—it has to happen on the first date. These circumstances create an uncomfortable pressure that violates the rules of consent. You HAVE TO talk about your childhood and past relationships and be vulnerable or you will be kicked off. In a world that shames men for expressing emotions, this message is very damaging: a person should never be required to be vulnerable on command, to shed their protective walls when they are in a state of threat. Those walls are there for a reason. See a therapist! Forcing someone to open up in this way is wrongful. It teaches us that the woman in the relationship is responsible for, or in control of, a man’s ability to express vulnerability; she dictates when and where he does it, and he must do it for her benefit, not his own. For example, if a guy expresses his jealousy during the cocktail party, resenting having to share Becca with other men, she tells him that it’s just part of the process and he has to buckle up. Emotional vulnerability happens in prearranged spaces as a test of a man’s adherence to the contrived progression of the relationship, remaining a tool in the hands of women. How progressive is that?

The thrill of watching these men be horrible to each other is, we have to admit, part of the fun. If the show was all Clay all day it would be boring. In a way, voyeurism allows us to maintain a separation between what we consider to be the fantasy world of the show and real life. We are determined, as viewers, to be skeptical of the process because we don’t want to ruin our own ideals of courtship. If it is true that a person is able to find Neruda-esque love on a show like this, then we, in the real world, are doing it all wrong, casting about randomly for a mate when things could be arranged. Could you find love like this? If enough data about you and your interests and values were all accurately mapped, and potential suitors chosen from that criteria? And all you had to do was put up with the idiots who make the show interesting? What if The Bachelorette producers actually love the idea of love? A manufactured environment where men have to compete with you and are forced to say nice things all the time—that’s actually a pretty nice fantasy for a single woman. It’s an appealingly simplified way of finding love. You go on several romantic, very expensive dates, you open up and feel refreshingly vulnerable, you make out, and BOOM you’re ready to get engaged. Nobody is ever busy; nobody ghosts you. There’s no one else in the world except some villains trying to keep you apart. It’s like Disney.

The show knows it is ridiculous. They are kind of inviting you bring a bat and hit the piñata. They have built their very own Disney playground where forty Gastons vie for Belle’s affection on a weekly basis, with some WWE theatrics thrown in. Much like Disney, the behavior and overwhelming lack of people of color makes the show almost like vintage satire: wealthy ruffians engage in fisticuffs for the admiration of a fine southern belle. It is hard to know if the show is kidding or not. We hope the departure of Mr. Congeniality is not a bad omen.

#the bachelorette #the bachelor abc #masculinity #love #becca kufrin #feminism

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cicadagarage2 · 4 years

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<h1 style="clear:both" id="content-section-0">The Basic Principles Of Capone (2020 Film) - Wikipedia </h1>

Table of ContentsThe Ultimate Guide To Capone Movie Accuracy: Fact Vs. Fiction In The Tom Hardy Biopic.The 7-Minute Rule for Watch Capone - Prime Video - Amazon.comThe Capone Movie Review: Tom Hardy At His Most Maximalist IdeasThe Buzz on Tom Hardy Is Al Capone: First Look At 'Fonzo' Gangster ...The Basic Principles Of 'Capone' Movie True Story - How Al Capone Died And Facts ...

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Watching Movies For Free Here -> Capone 2020

Just when you thought he was out, infamous gangster Al Capone keeps getting dragged back into motion pictures. This time it's Tom Hardy in " Capone" (now streaming), entering the formidable shoes used by Robert De Niro in 1987's "The Untouchables." Writer/director Josh Trank's brand-new telling doesn't focus on the feared Chicago criminal offense boss, however the last year of a syphilis-suffering, psychologically weakened man who died in 1947 at age 48. Trank makes clear he took creative license in " Capone," calling it an "impressionistic movie, a rendering of a 20th-century icon." That's typical in gangster portrayals, states Jonathan Eig, author of "Get Capone: The Secret Plot That Captured America's Most Wanted Gangster."" That's part of why Capone has actually become this mythological figure for our times," Eig states.

He bought his colonial-style house on Miami Beach's Palm Island in 1928, "and the IRS was never ever able to get their hands on it," says Eig. "He had the ability to live out the ins 2015 of his life in an amazing place." Trank shot the movie at a mansion in Covington, Louisiana.

Capone kept a cover on his condition till he was officially detected by jail medical professionals. The motion picture opens saying that while in jail, "his mental and physical health falls apart from neurosyphilis," when the illness contaminates the central nervous system. "Capone" illustrates FBI representatives questioning if the found guilty overplayed his symptoms to guarantee an early jail release.

" We tried to be honest to what syphilitic scars would in fact look like; eventually, you do not have photographic evidence of every phase of the last year," states Trank. In the film, Capone has guilt-filled hallucinations and reveals a loss of mental faculty that originates from Trank's mind - the revenge of al capone full movie. But the disease's impact was real, Eig says: "There are interviews with people who stated his behavior was often childlike." No known audio recordings of Capone exist, and he never ever spoke on video.

How 'Capone' Review: The Gangster As Unhygienic Hero - The ... can Save You Time, Stress, and Money.

As far as Capone's actual character, "that's an analysis. When someone is that well-known, all of us have our concept of who that person may have been. Based upon my understanding and research study, I was positive I was composing about what he was like at the time. al capone movie kevin costner." In the film, Capone has a hard time to remember whether, and where, he buried $10 million of his loot, hidden from federal authorities.

Geraldo Rivera's 1986 live TV occasion "The Secret of Al Capone's Vault" didn't discover the score in a secret vault in Chicago's Lexington Hotel." There has constantly been talk of 'What truly happened to Al Capone's money?'" states Eig. "He invested his cash like crazy. I believe that's the answer, he never accumulated much." Capone had one son, Albert Francis (played by Noel Fisher), who passed away at 85 in 2004.

Capone (1975) - IMDb

In reality, there have actually been individuals who claimed to be his offspring, however nothing proven. al capone biography movie." I didn't feel guilt or remorse putting that in," says Trank, who thinks such a child would have been likely for "men in his position in this world and his kind of work." Dr. Karlock, played by Kyle MacLachlan, prompts the ailing Capone to change his ever-present stogie with a healthy carrot.

MacLachlan, whose character is fictional, loved the idea that reveals even legendary gangsters have to accept aging. The veggie became his text joke with Hardy. "Whenever I interact with Tom, I send him a carrot. It's sort of become our thing," he states.

Indicators on Capone Movie Review: Tom Hardy At His Most Maximalist You Need To Know

Film directed by Josh Trank is a 2020 American biographical drama film composed, directed and edited by Josh Trank, with Tom Hardy starring as the eponymous gangster Al Capone. The film centers on Capone after his 11-year sentence at the United States Penitentiary, as he experiences neurosyphilis and dementia while living in Florida.

First revealed in October 2016, production on the film did not begin up until March 2018, lasting through May in Louisiana. Originally intended to have a theatrical release, it was launched on video as needed by Vertical Home entertainment on May 12, 2020. The movie received mixed reviews from critics, with Hardy's efficiency itself getting a polarized action.

At the age of 40, following nearly a decade of jail time, he is released after the government deems him to no longer be a risk as his mind is gradually decaying from unattended neurosyphilis - al capone biography movie. Now retired and coping with his household in Palm Island, Florida, Capone remains under security by federal agents, as they think he may be faking his insanity.

He acknowledges that he concealed $10 million before he was convicted, although he can not remember where it is. After Capone, whose memory is almost gone, has a physical conflict with his wife Mae, she advises her other half's bodyguards to keep everyone far from him. On the other hand, Capone has progressively incapacitating visions of the men he killed and numerous of the violent acts he devoted throughout his life.

The 30-Second Trick For Capone Movie Review: Tom Hardy At His Most Maximalist

One Al Capone Detail Tom Hardy's Movie ...

Wracked with guilt, and having actually alienated all around him, Capone ultimately passes away of problems from his syphilis in January 1947 at the age of 48. His making it through household changes their name from Capone, and the cash he supposedly concealed away has never ever been recuperated. It was announced in October 2016 that Tom Hardy would star as Al Capone in Fonzo, which would be directed, written and modified by Josh Trank.

al capone movie accuracy ="p__13">Hardy instead ended up shooting in 2017, and in March 2018 revealed Fonzo as his next project. Later on that month, Linda Cardellini, Matt Dillon, Kyle MacLachlan, Kathrine Narducci, Jack Lowden, Noel Fisher and Tilda Del Toro joined the cast. Shooting started on March 19, 2018 in New Orleans, and lasted through May 15.

Capone on Screen - Andrew Ward - Medium

EL-P Make up the film score, marking the first debut as a movie composer. Milan Records has launched the soundtrack. Capone was launched through video on demand on May 12, 2020 by Vertical Entertainment. The film was initially meant to have a theatrical release, however these plans altered due to the COVID-19 pandemic.

Over its very first weekend, it ranked 3rd on iTunes and fourth on both FandangoNow and Google Play. Over its very first ten days the film made $2.5 million from digital sales, a record for Vertical Entertainment - al capone movies youtube. called the outcomes "quite excellent" however "far from being a cash- [maker], stating that Vertical would see about 75% of the preliminary gross ($ 1.5 million), which the film could leg out to $45 million in sales.

Unknown Facts About Capone Movie Review & Film Summary (2020) - Roger Ebert

On Rotten Tomatoes, the movie holds an approval score of 42%, based upon 113 evaluations, with a typical score of 5.09/ 10. The website's consensus reads, "Tom Hardy takes advantage of his chance to deal with a difficult role, however Capone is too haphazardly constructed to support his interesting performance (al capone movie on netflix)." On Metacritic, the film has a weighted typical score of 46 out of 100, based on 35 critics, showing "mixed or average reviews." Composing for, Steve Pond said: "It's nuts, it's a mess and it's pretty damn entertaining if you don't mind characters pooping the bed and getting stabbed in the neck", stating that "Tom Hardy chuckles in the face of traditional notions of good v.

#alcapone movie #al capone movie accuracy #al capone movie about #al capone movie amazon

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blog-researchblog · 4 years

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Inside the Mind of a Musician

Olivia L

Reflection:

From the time I was a young girl, I have been surrounded by musical, theatrical, and artistic people. Because of this, music has always had a special place in my heart, which is why I am pursuing a career in this industry. Because the musical world is so multi-faceted, I used an article written by Scott Christ entitled, “7 Powerful Questions To Find Out What You Want To Do With Your Life”, to help me narrow in which direction I am most interested.

Through this article and the specific questions that were asked, I feel even more strongly about how passionate I am towards anything musical! Jazz, rock, pop, classical - it doesn’t matter. I’ve been figuring out that I can really appreciate anything once I know a little bit about it. But I am most passionate about playing music. For me, there is something so special about being the vessel through which music can speak to people in a way that words sometimes can’t. I am repeatedly astonished by the power just a couple of sounds can have over a person’s emotions. I often feel that my job as a musician is to tell the story of the composer. Many times, music is created from personal experiences or feelings. And while those people are no longer around to express themselves to others, their emotions are still valued and should be appreciated. As the person playing this music, I need to be able to interpret what emotions the music should evoke, and maybe offer some insight into the life of the composer.

In the last 4 or 5 years or so, I feel that I have accomplished a great deal musically. In high school, I was able to secure a job as an accompanist for different choirs, which taught me many useful skills such as learning how to follow a conductor, and keeping a steady tempo, which sometimes proves difficult as a solo performer. During this time I also had the opportunity to work as a church organist. This was also a big help in the development of my technical skills. I was able to learn a whole new instrument, and also work on developing my improvisational skills. In my senior year of high school, I won my first classical piano competition and was awarded a scholarship to go to college. After being in college, I have had a plethora of opportunities that have helped me become a better musician and performer. Prior to college, I had severe performance anxiety, but now, I have no problem performing whenever I need to. I always get nervous, but I can manage my anxiety in a much healthier way than before. Last semester, I won two different competitions, one of them pop and one of them classical. For the pop competition, I now have the opportunity to fly to LA in the summer and be on the filming of a musical TV show! For the classical competition, I have the opportunity to play a very famous concerto with a seventy-piece orchestra, which I am very excited about. But I would say that overall my biggest accomplishment has been being able to perform through my nerves and not letting that deter me from competing. Even if I could, I wouldn’t choose to do anything differently. I’m currently exploring, learning, performing, and experiencing.

Right now, my main goal is to be a successful recording artist both singing and playing the piano. I will try to exhaust every option to get myself there because at least if I don’t, then I can take comfort in knowing that I did my best. To be able to support myself solely on my music would be a total dream come true, and signifies a certain level or success to myself that I would like to attain. So for now, I am taking one step at a time.

The main reason why I have such a deep love and desire to pursue a music career is because of my nana, who I admire most in the world. It is because of her that I can play the piano. I admire her so much because she did everything she could to get what she wanted out of her dream, which was to be a singer. She went to Julliard as a voice major and a piano minor, and traveled the world as an entertainer. Later, she made it to Broadway and was in a couple of shows before deciding that life wasn’t actually for her. She is the only person I know that reached her goals and then decided she had different, more important priorities. Many times in the arts, there are people who are bittered by the thought of music and art because they don’t get what they want out of the industry. But to this day, she doesn’t regret ever leaving Broadway, and she still loves music and the piano more than anything. I hope to have this kind of mindset as I get older, even if life doesn’t go exactly the way I’d like it to go now.

Because of this desire to attain my goals as soon as possible, I tend not to like anything that takes me away from practicing or reaching those goals. It is something I struggle with sometimes, especially as music has become an even more important and time consuming part of my life in college. Ideally, I need about 6 hours of practice a day because of the amount of music I have to learn and master, and because of the caliber of which I’m playing at.

To ensure that my future self is happy, I am willing to give it my all! I will continue to devote myself to practicing, developing and discovering, and I will always be open to new things. I will most likely be working towards these goals my entire life. I understand what comes with the life of an artist, as I’m already feeling the effects of that. Practicing even just 6 hours a day, as opposed to the normal 8-12 for full time musicians, definitely takes a toll on my social life as well as my family life, as I am not around and can’t be involved in as many things as I’d like. However, my desire to succeed and improve outweighs my desire to be a very social person. I think these feelings won’t change as I grow and may only get stronger. In order to find the most recent information in this field, I consulted the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics.

The Reality of the Job:

According to the Bureau’s Occupational Outlook Handbook entry entitled, “Musicians and Singers,” the musical world is ever changing and growing, offering one-of-a-kind opportunities to performing and recording artists who are dedicated and ambitious enough to take on the challenges that come with this field. Typically, recording and performing artists such as musicians and singers play instruments or sing for live audiences and/or in recording studios to make a living. An artist that is on the path to success will audition around, travel, and book as many gigs as possible in order to promote their brands and careers, and ensure some sort of income. To make themselves more marketable, a musician will also commonly become proficient in many instruments or in many styles of singing. In recent years, most musicians not only record and perform music, but also compose and write original music.

The path to becoming a performing artist is different for every individual. There are no education requirements in this field. However, most performers of classical music have been trained and at least have a bachelor's degree. While no formal education is needed, many artists put long hours into practicing and rehearsing so that they can interpret and understand the music at a professional level. Because of the nature of the field, many successful artists must have specific qualities including dedication, motivation, talent and promotional skills. The pay for performing artists is also something that is very specific to each artist, unless that artist has a steady job and source of income. Many musicians and singers find only part-time or intermittent work and may have long periods of unemployment between jobs. In regards to job outlook, in the coming years there will likely be almost no change in the employment numbers of performing artists. However, while the new and improving technology such as digital downloads and streaming will help musicians and singers in terms of publicity and commercial interest, employment is projected to decline in orchestras, opera companies, and other classically rooted organizations that are lacking funding.

On the Job Interview:

To get more insight on the nature of this career, I interviewed Dr. Maria Asteriadou, a seasoned musician, performer, and concertizing pianist who currently teaches at Kutztown University in Pennsylvania. Very few understand better than her how the desire to have a life full of music and performance is both a blessing and a curse. As Maria is someone with great experience who I truly admire, I was curious to hear what her story was as she was entering the musical world. I also hoped, as a young person trying to make a path for herself in this industry, that she could offer me some advice or insight on how to be a successful artist.

During our interview, Maria recalled the first time that she received attention for her playing abilities. When Maria was just 5 years old, the people around her recognized special and great potential in her. Once she entered conservatory at age 8, she knew that her path was made for her. In a joking matter, she expressed why she stuck with music. “After I made this decision, my parents treated me as their favorite, and my brother hated me for that,” she said. Even as a joke, I related to this immediately as I recently have been understanding how relationships can change in a family when there is one or more artist pursuing a performance career.

She then said something which put me at ease in terms of practicing and time management. As a full-time student, and working performer, it is often difficult to find what feels like enough practice time in the day. But Maria’s practice schedule helped put mine into perspective. She explained, “Before I got married and had kids, everything had to be perfect when I had to perform. I had to sleep my 8 to 10 hours, I had to get up, practice, eat well, take my nap, then get ready and everything would go smoothly. And then I got married and pregnant with my first kid and then my friend, a clarinetist, told me that now I had to learn how to play with no sleep, how to play with no food, how to pretty much go up on stage and play any time . I thought I could never do this, and of course then I had the kid and he was right. But what happens? You adjust.” She then went on to explain that even practicing efficiently is time consuming. Sometimes even when Maria is just “microwaving” a piece, or trying to get an old piece back into her fingers, it can take 3 to 5 hours of practicing a day. For a new piece, she would have to put her normal 10 to 12 hours a day! Reminiscing about her days as a solo pianist, she fondly remembered the time that she had a recital in Croatia, and was expected to play with a percussion ensemble a piece that she had previously played. However, right after that performance, she had to rush to Greece to record a piece that she had never even seen before. She spoke in distress, almost as if she was reliving the event, as she explained her almost crippling anxiety as she begged for a piano to practice on in Croatia. She only wished to perform well in Greece. After pleading, she got her hands on a piano and was able to practice for the entire day after her performance with the percussion ensemble.

After returning to the interview questions, Maria then began to talk about an aspect of this kind of life that could easily be misconstrued as negative. She explained that she often felt growing up a lot of pressure and anxiety, because every free second she had she felt the need to practice. There seems to be a lack of relaxation in this field, which sometimes drives serious performing artists like this to almost be workaholics, with no ability to appreciate anything else if they are feeling under practiced. This was something that I really struggled with last semester, as I was involved in two different competitions, and was having trouble balancing the practice I felt I needed for that, plus my own personal repertoire, chamber groups, and academic school work. It made my life very difficult in some aspects as I couldn’t have a social life or even just one second when I wasn’t thinking about all the practice I needed to do. It was very exhausting. However, something Maria and I agree on, is that after putting in the work needed, it is more rewarding than almost any other type of work.

Another very rewarding aspect in this job is recognizing the progress in stage presence and the management of anxiety. Maria explained that this is the time to learn, in college, and in conservatory. And every time you perform, you get a little better at handling nerves in front of people. As Maria knows that I’ve always suffered with severe performance anxiety, she excitedly stood up from her chair and moved to the piano. As she played a passage from the first movement of Tchaikovsky’s first piano concerto, which I am preparing to perform in April, she spoke loudly over the music. She encouraged me to embrace my nerves, and channel them in a certain direction of excitement and emotion, so that those feelings would be accurately conveyed to the audience.

After this mini piano lesson, I expressed to her that it seemed to me as though the professions that require the most love, feeling, and emotion, lack general funding and money. She compared the reality of this path to the unrealistic dreams that young performers usually have. She said that the common dream of making a living solely based on performance is not really the case nowadays. Now, regular people working 9 to 5 jobs will have multiple jobs in their lives, and the same goes for musicians. Then, she said something very true to the industry; that one must be the full package, meaning that people can’t just be technically trained. They also have to have social skills so that they can market themselves, and make themselves stand out from their competitors. Again, she remembered a moment from her childhood, recalling the arguments she used to have with her father who always pushed her to be sociable. “I hated talking to people” she said, “I always used to say, ‘I’m not selling anything, you’re selling!’” Chuckling, she looked at me and acknowledged that after all, he was right.

Coming away from this interview, I feel much more secure about my choice to pursue a music career. I realize now that I can’t expect to have just one job, or my “dream” job immediately after school. This field is constantly changing, and I have to be adaptable. But more than anything, my happiness should not be dependent on what my current definition of success is. I should remember why I decided to pursue this, and why I devote so much time, effort and energy to it. I now have a deeper understanding that it is my responsibility to share my love of music with the world, and my happiness will only come after I fully embrace and chase after this in the future. After interviewing Dr. Asteriadou, and hearing about her success, I decided to do more research specifically on the topic of job opportunities in the performing arts field. To do this, I consulted a New York Times article.

Career in the News:

The article, “What Will All These Musicians Do?”, written by Bernard Holland, an American music critic, focuses on the relationship between the technical training of young musicians and the demands of the musical world itself. He explains that music schools in particular have been producing more students with technical skills of a higher caliber than ever before, but the problem that remains is what those students are going to do after they graduate. There is not enough funding , publicity, or room in this field to accommodate all of the skilled musicians flooding in; only a few will be lucky enough to have solo careers. This is because the field is already fully employed. Another point Holland touches upon is how the struggle to find a job in this field affects the art and music being produced. The intense, fierce fight to the top seems to contradict the rather sensitive and emotional subject matter. One solution to this problem would be to have music schools stop producing specialists, and start producing students that have a wide variety of skills. This also includes teaching young musicians to not only play well, but also market themselves in the real world after school. Another suggestion offered is to avoid instilling in the minds of young musicians that playing louder and faster equals being a better musician, and that being emotionally invested in the music that is being created is more valued and appreciated.

This is a very interesting topic to me because it is directly related to my major and area of interest. I chose this article because it speaks specifically about the challenges of securing a job in the musical world today, and how an already intense and narrow field is becoming ever more so. It offers some explanation as to why it is so difficult to become successful, and gives some suggestions as to combat these problems which are arising everyday. This is so closely related to what I am studying because it is directly linked to performing artists in a classical and non classical setting. Becoming a successful performing artist with a solo career is something that is constantly on my mind, as I am already half-way through my college career and still have so many things to experience and explore before I graduate. Unfortunately, most of those things that I enjoy do not present me with a variety of musical opportunities for later in life. In addition to this, job stability has been something that I have accepted as virtually unattainable for myself especially coming right out of school. However, at some point it is important to become successful enough where I am able to support myself financially and have a healthy lifestyle. The problem with this is that the older one gets, the less attractive they are to the public, however, job opportunities as a young person are almost nonexistent as those positions are already filled by older, more experienced musicians, or by the very few, rare, exceptionally talented people.

I have always known that this was a very difficult and narrow field to pursue, but this article has shed some more light on why exactly it is becoming more and more challenging everyday to secure a job in the music industry as a performer. I have learned that schooling and education play a bigger role in the success of musicians than I anticipated, as schools do not seem to be teaching students how to prepare themselves for the real world. Also, I found it very interesting that the way students are taught can make an impact on the amount and which jobs are available to them. For example, if a student is taught only to be a virtuoso classical pianist and nothing else, then they have almost no other options career wise, and their whole life and living is at stake if they have a lot of competition, which is what is happening now. Something I would still like to learn more about are the roles that funding and economics play in creating job opportunities in this field, as the article mostly talked about how education affected the job outlook for students once they left school.

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dreamingwhileawakeuniverse · 7 years

Text

Torture to those who have it coming

Author: Dreaming While Awake Universe Fandom: Hannibal (TV) Pairing: Dark Will x Reader Prompt: The reader is a famous person who knows Will lightly through social media, ignores him as a bet with a friend. Which leads to this unfortunate turn of events to envelop. Words: 2674 Warnings: torture, needles, syringes, knife, cutting, organs A/N: I originally wrote it with other characters for a friend then adapted it for my newly found obsession - Hannibal fandom. Tried experimenting with Dark Will's character as he is a fascinating mind capable of strong feelings and acting upon them.

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It was a regular day, no different from any other. Except, in a way, it wasn’t. Not that Y/N knew that yet. She did not anticipate anything happening to her, not in reality, maybe in her dreams or thoughts, but never surpassing the barrier of dreamland. The surprise was still waiting to present itself. Wrapped in ribbon, with a bow on top. People often think of fate or consequences of their actions. Although not expecting judgement day to come, sometimes the anxiety and anticipation is there, lurking in the shadows, whispering, haunting. Now some people believe in karma, natural balance of things, but very often those actions denoting retribution are done by other people on their own will. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing per se, only that laws and human morality denies the pleasure of punishing those who wrong us.

No matter of the size of the act that feels like betrayal, the emotion’s intensity matters most and it is the most common initiator of action for vengeance, violence. The mind gets blinded with hate, needing something, anything to fill that void. Especially in the face of someone ignoring you, and when you know it is done on purpose, by choice, it infuriates you. Makes your blood boil with hatred. All other feelings and emotions become meaningless and you are left with the only decision at that moment. Act upon your instinct? Or keep it to yourself until it passes. But it never truly goes away, does it?

There was this man, William Graham. Still youthful and filled with energy. As of many of blooming adults, his emotions and importance of other people’s attention and acceptance were significant to him. It’s only natural for one to seek acknowledgment from those who seem to matter. In their own world, of course. But no matter what the reality might be, it hurts the same. The pain is the same, the influence… The exact same. Little does anyone know how much their actions can make people do certain things. How persuasive they can be without actually realizing it. And not to their own benefit, I’m afraid.

So there it was, a simple, ordinary day. Weather’s a bit dim, people are caught up in their own thoughts, having their own problems circling around, tightening their necks. And then there’s Y/N. Unsuspecting, living her life, having everything, as it seems, in its place. Life and career going smoothly, acceptance from people, appreciation from those who listen, truly listen to her work. It’s only natural to get lost in the comfort of our surroundings, not ever needing to think of ‘what ifs’. Playing life like it was given for granted. When in reality, every word, every little action sets off a butterfly effect.

Asleep for an afternoon nap, comfortable, unaware, unexpecting. That’s screen perfect moment to attack and assault someone, isn’t it? What’s more fun than seemingly set play? Setting a better one, perfect for the ideas and cravings fueled by pure anger. Quietly sneaking closer, being unnoticed, unheard, not alarming anyone. A sudden stab of a needle to the artery. A concoction to knock out a person… For a short period of time, that is. Possible struggle to drag the body, but with help? It’s easier. Careful to not be seen by anyone around, not causing suspicion. Taking the almost lifeless body to a specifically prepared space. A basement of torture of sorts. At least for this evening, for this occasion. Carefully decided details, equipment, tools. The person, still unsuspecting, strapped to the table, hands, feet cuffed, secured. Checked multiple times, no mistakes can be made. It wouldn’t be acceptable. There’s only one and single chance. The room has no windows, the walls are isolated from any sound leakage. Anything that happens inside, stays there. And whatever is happening outside the walls? Continues existing without any grasp of the nature of cruelty inside. If a photo was made of how this scene looked, one would think of a hospital, professionally prepared operation room, tools in place, sanitary, white and green. Except the surgery that is still to be done will not be of healing to the patient on the table. Rather, a divine intervention, saving the soul of the one taking action. Time was ticking away, the subject on the table started breathing quicker, out of sleep. Consciousness coming back. Eyes fluttering, trying hard to bring life to their owner. Mind still fuzzy, like after a nap that took too long, leaving us confused, uncertain where, when, or even, what are we.

Her eyes slowly coming back to functioning, taking in what’s around. And for the first time, the confusion is justified. Because nothing was recognisable. She had no fucking idea where she is or how she got there. When she noticed a familiar face. Still not able to put a name to it. Body aching, trapped. Fear flowing through her, blood rushing to her brain evoking fight-or-flight instinct. But no luck there, when you are strapped to a table, neither you can punch, nor run.

“Hello, Y/N.” A firm, calm voice echoed in the room.

Her eyes glued to the ones observing her, cold sweat drowning her body. Not sure if it would be a smart decision to initiate a conversation. Even if she tried, it felt like her tongue is stuck in her dry mouth. Possibly not able to emit a sound. She tried sitting up, getting off that table however he could. But there was no way. Hands above her head, feet… Securely tightened. Even her neck had its own belt holding her down. Should she scream for help? Unlikely such a well conducted environment meant a mind behind it would be stupid enough to make a grave error like allowing her yelps to reach anybody.

“Well well well… Feeling uncomfortable? Don’t worry… much.” A sinister tone in his voice, a tool of some sort in his hands. “I understand your state of confusion, fear of what’s to come. Be sure, nothing you imagine is as bad as what my mind can think of.” His eyes burning with emotion, confident posture, slowly walking towards her.

“Tell me, what are you most afraid of, Y/N?” He shifts his gaze to the ceiling, trying to imagine possible ways to induce terror to this girl in front of him. Never actually taking his attention away from her. That would be inconsiderate to deny her of his full focus.

“Not feeling like talking? Oh, wait, how rude of me.” He chuckles lowly. “My name is Will. Rings a bell? Or do you need reminding?” A slight smirk playing on his face. A scalpel in his grasp being lightly tapped onto the other hand.

Her eyes widen, still not certain who is she dealing with… when it hit her. It’s him. Y/N never thinks much when talking to people, heck, she has lots of friends and acquaintances. Some very close and dear to her, some less. A couple are for fun. Many many she ignores. Natural, being famous and well-known comes with a price of a certain amount of attention seeking fans and admirers. But he was different. It didn’t mean much, at first, she randomly picked people to talk to, converse over stuff that seemed intriguing. There were less to choose from anyway. And there he was, having stuff in common, being casual, chatting. Throughout years, he never stopped. Not that she would complain about it. No. But people are peculiar creatures. They get bored, they think of ways to make anything a game. What was there to lose? A virtual relation with someone? A small price to pay for experimenting with people. Until you mess with the wrong ones. It was merely a bet with her band mate. To keep checking, looking at everything he provided. To see how long would this man put effort to reach out, connect, talk. Well, everything has a price tag. Sometimes, even your own head might be served on a plate.

“It’s you.” That’s all her hoarse voice could manage to get out. Eyes flickering, mind trying to find a plan, any plan. Nothing. Empty.

A quiet laugh fills the room. “Nice to meet you too. It all could’ve been in better circumstances, but… you know, it pretty much is all on you, for what this had to come to.” His eyes rolled. “Okay, yeaah, maaaybe I could’ve spared the theatrical entrance and, well, all this.” He beckons around the room. “But you have to admit, it’s at the very least cool and freaking WORTH IT.” His last words loud, screeching, full of hurt.

Someone is rummaging in close perimeter. Someone else is in the room? How worse can this get. Y/N’s eyes wander around the room until she notices a small camera. Great. This will be recorded and kept. Though maybe it could become evidence after it’s done. Leverage to… Then a dark thought coursed through her brain. Is she getting out of this alive?

Will’s actions were swift, and well prepared. A knife exchanged the place of the scalpel in his hands. He moved quickly, the fabric covering her chest, abdomen… cut right in the middle. There’s no need to cover that flesh anymore. Not in here. After it was all shredded off, the knife dug into the skin of her neck, not stabbing, not even cutting, only held against the sweaty skin. The horror in her eyes was already paying off the tortures she incited to him throughout the years of silence.

“Not so tough and cool anymore, huh?” A spark in William’s eyes made it uncertain whether he was enjoying the therapeutic action of seeking vengeance or he was loving the torture on its own. “We’re just getting started, so don’t faint on me, I need your opinion on this.”

The mysterious someone in the room brought syringes full of different kinds of liquids. That person was wearing a mask and clear suit, careful to not leave any evidence of their presence here. “They’re all different, you won’t know their effect or what they are until you inject her with any of them. My personal concoctions of terror, if you may.” There was no need to see the face, the sly smirk could be heard in the voice.

“Wonderful.” That’s all Will had to say. And all Y/N was thinking was how did something so seemingly innocent and insignificant bring her to this nightmare.

He took away the knife from her hyperventilating body. Set it aside for now. “Eenie meenie miny moe… Ah, the blue one it is.” He took the syringe, carefully letting the air bubbles out.

His soft hand caressed her arm, tightly grabbing just below the wrist. The vein was very visible which only made the process easier. The needle was soon under Y/N's skin, pushing the burning liquid in her bloodstream. A growling scream echoed.

“So this one was the instant pain one, nice.” A proud face staring down to the girl. “Now you should be extremely sensitive to any touch, nib, or squeeze.”

With those words Will leaned down to peck her cheek, almost giving the feel of a gangster's kiss before the execution of the receiver. Or Judas’ deathly smooch. Without more foreplay he turns around to grab a soft material. Of all the choices, why something fluffy and sweet?

Y/N did not realise she did not have her clothes on anymore apart from her underwear. Will’s hands slowly lowered the cloth closer to the girl’s body. The slight touch, caressing her skin made her squirm and whine. “I told you anything will hurt. Imagine that was a knife cutting you.”

His right hand was suddenly placed around her neck. She suddenly was very aware of the nails digging into her skin. After tightening his grasp he let go and dragged his claws down along the middle causing the skin to redden and stay marked. A scream muffled by his other hand stuffing her mouth with that same cloth from before.

“This is getting a bit boring, pick a colour?” He lift up couple of syringes smiling like giving a child a choice of candies. Y/N's eyes nervously shift, a neon colour catching her gaze.

“Oh don’t worry, darling, it’s not radioactive, my friend just loves a touch of drama, I mean, not that I don’t, obviously, considering everything that you see around you.” His dark giggles send shivers down her spine. “But if you insist, we’ll try this one.”

In a blink of an eye he stabs the enormous needle right to her heart, not only setting the effect of the liquid, but also striking a shock-like reaction from the puncture alone. If she wasn’t strapped to the table, her seizure might’ve made her fall and crack her skull. Nevertheless, the fun shall carry on.

He slapped her face several times getting her mind back to her body. “Stay awake, baby, wouldn’t want you missing out.” A soft caring voice spoke coupled with a dark evil pair of eyes staring deep into her soul.

Y/N's body was uncontrollably shaking, it felt like the temperature suddenly fell tens of degrees below freezing. All she wanted was to curl up into a ball, find solace in her own embrace, get warmth. But that wasn’t an option she had.

William was busy at her tool station, picking and choosing with what to play next. It might be time for operation. He gave her anesthetics. “You will need this not to feel anything if I want you to not lose your consciousness from the agonizing pain.”

The next thing she saw was that same scalpel. She felt it gently touching her skin until she felt nothing anymore. She saw blood. Was it hers? Stupid question, who else’s could it have been? It must be hers. But she didn’t feel any pain. Her head a bit woozy, but she was fighting hard to not faint. Will unbelted Y/N’s neck for her to see what was being done to her body. Y/N lift up her head curious to know how many cuts he made. Her face froze. It wasn’t just cuts. Her abdomen was opened. Her insides presented to the outside world.

“Now let me see if you are truly missing one organ. It should have told you that what you were doing, or, well, more like not doing, was wrong. Do you have your heart, Y/N? Because I am already certain your brain doesn’t function as it should, because you didn’t realise how stupid your actions had been.” His hand reached in, maneuvering inside, feeling the warm working mechanism of the body. Soon enough he touched the rhythmical beating motor. The pace was increasing. At first, his touch was soft and mindful. Then the grasp was firm and there was a satisfaction written all over Will’s face.

“What a surprise, I found it, then, you should know now, what I want as a gift from you. It won’t cost you anything. Easy.”

Y/N’s breathing was erratic, her body being exposed was ready to shut down, she could hear her heartbeat ringing loudly in her ears. Two more seconds and she’s out cold. System’s shutdown. Darkness overtakes.

A sudden hitch of breath. A sting of mind, wakening like from a nightmare. Eyes open widely, mouth dry and sore. Y/N shivers hugging herself and rubbing her arms to regain warmth.

“It was all a dream, just a dream, calm down, Y/N…” She tries to lull herself.

Then an excruciating pain runs down the middle of her body. She curls up whining, almost crying for help. She lifts up her shirt to find stiches.

“Oh.my.fucking.god.” Her face left with horror, making her wish nothing more but a nightmare instead of the hellish reality she has to continue living with.

A lesson was taught, every action requires a reaction and no one is safe from the consequences of one’s foolishness.

#Dark Will x Reader #Hannibal fanfic #William Graham fanfic #William Graham x Reader #William Graham #Hannibal reader insert #Hannibal TV #Hannibal #Hannibal Lecter #Will Graham #Will Graham x Reader

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callofthecurlew · 6 years

Text

open to interpretation

(ao3)

“Every year in January I go get a lady to read my tarot cards.”

It takes every ounce of Dan’s willpower to not react, “Oh.”

Rated: General Audiences

Pairing: Dan/Phil

Genre: Fluff, General

A/N: Re: Tarot Cards I am an amateur dabbler in the workings of Tarot Cards and wrote this in consultation with a couple of professionals and my own books and cards! I understand and acknowledge that there are a thousand ways to interpret/read and understand Tarot, and through this I don't wish to offend anyone. Any views expressed are not necessarily my own views nor are correct views.

It took ten years for Dan to realise that there was a pattern.

To be fair, when it only happened once a year, there wasn’t much opportunity to recognise a correlation of events. But still, ten years seemed long, even for him.

“Where are you going?”

It was mid January, and Phil was leaving the apartment in the early morning, before the sun was even up. It was a strange occurrence - Phil was rarely awake before midday most of the time.

“Oh, uh, just out…”

Dan sat up from the bed, bleary eyed and critical, “It’s like, five in the morning. Where are you going?”

“I just- have this thing I have to do?”

“So early?” he murmurs, rubbing his hands over his face, “Are you finally leaving me and I’ve foiled your plans?”

Phil laughs, shaking his head even though he knew it was a joke, “Of course not. It’s just…” he glances at the time on their bedside table and sighs, sitting down on the edge of the bed, “It’s just something I do every year.”

Dan frowns, because he’s pretty sure that’s a lie, “I’ve never seen you get out of bed this early.”

“That’s because we live further away now.”

“From what?”

Phil rolls his eyes, suddenly exasperated, “I don’t want to tell you because it’s stupid, okay? You’re gonna laugh and not in a nice way and I’m not going to want to go.”

Dan pauses for a moment to reflect, “Hey…” he says quietly, because Phil feeling that way about something actually hurts a little, “I’m sorry if I ever gave you that impression. But what is it?”

Phil heaves a sigh, picking at a loose thread on the bedspread beneath him, before gazing up, “Every year in January I go get a lady to read my tarot cards.”

It takes every ounce of Dan’s willpower to not react, “Oh.”

Phil’s face flushes with embarrassment and he shakes his head, “Never mind. I’m gonna be late for the train.”

“Hey no, wait,” Dan says, and before he can stop himself he’s out of bed and pulling on a pair of jeans, “I’ll come with you.”

That makes Phil pause and he gives Dan a sceptical look, “I don’t want you to come if you’re just going to make fun of it…”

“Phil,” he grumbles, “I’ll be good. But… it’s important to you, right?”

“Yes. Very much so.”

“Then I’m coming.”

“So how did this start? And how long have you been going?”

Phil’s sitting on the train, fiddling with his fingers because if he’s honest, he’s a little nervous for Dan to be there.

“Um, Madame Rosa-”

“Madame Rosa?” Dan splutters, unable to contain himself, “Wh-”

“Okay, okay! Her real name is Marlene, but you can’t run a business with the name Madame Marlene. That sounds like some Agony Aunt crap,”

“But Rosa… ” Dan shakes his head in wonder, but sits back and doesn’t question it further, “Go on…”

Phil wrinkles his nose. He didn’t really want to continue if Dan was going to be like this, “Uhm, so Marlene was a friend of my grandmothers, and once she took me and Martyn to her reading room, when I was about… uh, maybe seven?”

“Seven?” Dan’s eyes bulge, “And you’ve gone every year since then?”

Phil nods, eyes hard, and suddenly he’s more sure and less worried about what Dan’s impression of it is. It had taken him a split second - mostly through talking about his grandmother - to realise that this was something he did for himself, and nothing Dan said could change his mind.

“Twenty-four years…” Dan pauses in surprise, “How come you never told me?”

Phil face deadpans as he glances at Dan, raising an eyebrow, “Really? You have to ask?”

“Okay, I mean, fair point. But how have you managed to do this the entire time we’ve known each other without me realising?”

Phil shrugs, “It was easier when we lived in Manchester,” he said softly, “Marlene’s place was close and I could go there under the guise of going to the shops, or something like that. Sorry I lied.”

“No, I get it…” Dan says softly, “Sorry you felt like you had to keep it from me because I’m an asshole.”

Phil chuckles and leans into him, eyes closing, “You’re going to hate it. It’s a business, so she’s a bit theatrical. I mean, she won’t do all the bells and whistles because it’s only me, but it’s… I mean. It’s like a little show. People get a kick out of it.”

“What do you mean? ‘She puts on a show’?”

“Well, tarot isn’t alway about… you know, gazing into the crystal ball and inhaling incense and… you know, purple drapes. But… people kind of… come for that experience? When my grandma used to teach me how to read them, we used to sit on her bed. The only thing she insisted on was bathing the cards in the light of the full moon.”

Dan nods, genuinely interested, “Does Madame Rosa wear robes?”

“Only when she’s performing,” Phil grins back, “She just a regular old woman, usually.”

Dan nods thoughtfully, chuckling softly, “Interesting.”

They’re silent for another few moments, before Phil presses his forehead against Dan’s shoulder, “Thanks for coming with me.”

The building they arrive at is small and unobtrusive. There's barely any signs or hints that point to the fact that a business even operates out of it, and for a moment Dan feels like he's been pranked. Phil feels strangely nervous for the first time in years, and he can feel Dan’s restless energy beside him.

They step into a dark room and it’s exactly how Phil described it. Purple drapes hang on the walls, blocking out the light from the windows. Blown up posters of the tarot cards hang against some of the drapes and there are candles everywhere, flickering softly from the air conditioning. Strong cinnamon and vanilla incense wafts through the room, spicy and mysterious, and a crystal ball sits in the very middle of the room on a small table.

“Philip!”

Marlene is old but not frail. She had been quite young when Phil first started seeing her, and he figures she’s now somewhere in her late sixties - significantly younger than his own grandma if she were still alive. They had met through a community for psychics, and while their ages differed, it never stopped their friendship.

“Madame Rosa!” Phil’s nerves disappear as he spots the woman, donned in green and gold today. They pull each other into a hug and he buries himself in a scent that is so familiar - warmth and knowledge and family and love - a smell he could never explain to someone.

She’s the epitome of the fortune tellers in every badly written sitcom, with a bandana and long flowing sleeves, and if he’s honest, Phil loves it. Maybe the theatricality behind it all was another reason why he always came back.

He glances back to see Dan, hands jammed in his pockets, shoulders hunched in defense. He’s incredibly uncomfortable, but Phil just smiles at him reassuringly.

“This is Dan.”

“Ah yes, the boyfriend you always tell me about,” she smiles, and Phil is once again red from embarrassment.

“Um, hi,” Dan says, before he too is engulfed in a large hug, and he awkwardly hugs her back.

“Have you both come for a reading today?” she asks.

Phil shakes his head, ‘Just me. I don’t think-”

“A-bah-bah-bah,” Dan cuts him off, “Maybe. I’m not sure yet.”

Phil doesn’t mean to stare but he’s pretty sure his eyes have turned into saucers. Dan doesn’t look at him though and Phil just shrugs, taking up a seat at the crystal ball.

“Alright, love. Same reading as always?”

“Um, can you explain, for the first timers?” Dan asks softly, and Marlene and Phil grin at each other. Phil’s more excited than he’s ever been for a reading - being able to share it with Dan makes his heart thump wildly.

She retrieves another chair for him so they can sit together, and Dan pulls himself up to the crystal ball with a soft smile at Phil.

“Whenever I come here, I get a six card spread read out to me,” Phil explains softly, his voice fitting the tone of the room, “It’s basically a snapshot of how things are in general, and one of the most basic readings you can do. You can also ask a question and get an answer.”

“It uses only the Major Arcana,” Marlene explains, “Which are our foundation cards.”

Dan nods along like he understands, but the words are strange and he’s not quite sure of the significance of the ‘foundation cards’. He has to admit that in this space - the atmosphere and the ambience, it certainly feels like he could believe if he let himself.

“In the beginning, we take a moment to focus on mindfulness. We use a signifier, the crystal ball, to ground our thoughts, and even our breathing…” Marlene’s voice is soft and Dan almost gets lost in the moment, listening and watching Phil place his hands over the sphere.

Marlene does the same, “Then we focus on the question we want answered. It doesn’t need to be said out loud. Just focus on that and only the question you want. If your thoughts drift, acknowledge this and gently guide them back.”

It’s quiet in the room, the only sounds are Phil’s deep breaths. It makes Dan uncomfortable, but still he’s fascinated.

"Alright,” she says softly, and from a small pouch at her belt she produces a stack of cards, larger in size than playing cards, but a smaller deck. She shuffles them once, before passing them to Phil, who shuffles them for almost a minute before knocking on the top three times, blowing over the top and passing them back.

“Wait, what was that?” Dan asks softly, trying not to ruin the ambience.

“I shuffle the cards, to unite their energy,” she explains, “And then Phil shuffles them until he knows that they’re shuffled enough…”

It doesn’t make sense, but she says it in a way that makes Dan not want to question it.

“The knocking wakes the cards and prepares them, and the cool breath allows us to begin.”

Dan just nods now, unsure what questions he’d even ask if he had them.

With practised ease, Marlene deals the first six cards from the top in a spread that doesn’t seem to have any rhyme or reason, but Phil gazes on solemnly.

The first card depicts an angel playing the trumpet, and Dan frowns a little, “The first card in this spread represents how you feel about yourself,” she explains, “Judgement. The Judgement card signifies the end of an era for you, or at least, of a phase in your life. You may be looking at new opportunities, or you may need to make some new choices, ones that could change your life dramatically.”

Phil reflects for a moment, talking it through, “We finished touring last year,” he says quietly, “That’s a pretty big end, considering we’re pretty sure that’s the last tour ever. At least, internationally. And our lease is ending again - we only had a twelve month one, and we kind of have to make the decision as to whether we’re going to buy a house and move into our permanent resting place, or… if we rent again.”

Dan considers his words, and of course it’s all true but he can’t help but think he’s tailored them to fit to the card meaning of the card.

Marlene simply nods, pointing with long, manicured red nails to the second card, “The second card shows what you want most right now,” she says, before smiling, “Your card is ‘The Hanging Man’, which is a card of suspension, and waiting. It suggests that you’re literally hanging in the balance, waiting for something to happen, and perhaps that you want something to happen,” she says, “And maybe, taking into consideration the other cards, that you feel like you shouldn’t have to give something up to have something else.”

Phil doesn’t say anything, but his mouth is set in a line. It’s scarily accurate, Dan realises for a moment, before his head shakes minisculely. She’s used his own words and once again, gave him an interpretation of that card that made the most sense.

“Your fears are represented in the third card, for which ‘The Star’ is shown. You’re fearful of the future, and you’re not sure what to do, however this card is a card of hope, and optimism,” she pauses, musing for a moment, “Perhaps you’re fearful that the good things will end soon, and maybe it will become harder, either in your relationships or in your career.”

Phil can’t help but glance at Dan, and neither of them are sure how to take that. They’ve always been stronger together.

“The things in your favour - your card here is ‘Strength’.”

Phil grins as he takes in the depiction of the lion on the card.

“Patience, diplomacy, and most importantly - courage - are your strongest qualities. You have inner strength, Phil, and sometimes people won’t see that, and sometimes it may be hard for even yourself to see it. But it’s there.”

Phil nods, and Dan is in wonder at the way he takes her words so seriously.

“And going against you - the Magician,” she says softly, frowning slightly, “It can often mean...greed, deceit and manipulation. It could refer to someone in your life, or perhaps a business or company. Someone who… perhaps, is holding you back from reaching your full potential.”

It’s not directed at Dan - her focus is on Phil and never switches, but Dan can’t help but feel responsible. Was he holding Phil back? It makes him frown, glaring at the card, of the old man and the eclipse behind him. They were just cards. They didn’t mean anything.

“Your final card is the likely outcome to your question, and behold the Empress,” she tilts her head, smiling a little, “The Empress can mean many things, and can often point to fertility,” she smirks a little and Phil lets out a nervous chuckle, prompting Dan to give him a questioning look. He doesn’t answer it, “But it’s also about prosperity, and growth. It’s a positive card - good things are coming, Phil. But you can see through the rest of the cards, there are always going to be trials and tribulations. Periods of waiting and having to deal with the wrong path sometimes. But be patient and kind, and you’ll get to where you want to be.”

He nods, but doesn’t get up yet, taking a moment to think about the cards. He takes a deep breath, before nodding again.

“Thank you, Madame Rosa,” he uses her stage name because it feels better in this environment, before glancing at Dan, “Do you want to-?”

“No thank you,” Dan says quickly, “That’s, um- it was very interesting, but I don’t think it’s for me.”

“Not to worry, sweetheart. It can be fairly confronting for your first time. But I appreciate you coming to support Phil. He talks about you whenever he’s here.”

It makes Phil blush again and he chuckles, finally getting to his feet and slinging his bag back over his head, “I’ll see you next year?” he asks with a grin.

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” she says, “And don’t hesitate to contact me if you have any questions during your own readings…”

Dan glances at Phil in surprise. Except for the video they’d filmed together where Phil read his tarot cards, he didn’t realise Phil used the cards any other time. He doesn’t answer the look though, not yet.

“I will. Thank you so much.”

They cross the room and head back into the street, blinking as the light is way too bright. Dan feels like he’s just stepped out of Narnia, the room where Madame Rosa sits seems like a different world compared to Manchester. Phil is still quiet and reflective, and Dan doesn’t really want to disturb him, but he’s bursting with questions.

“So…” he says, and Phil glances over at him with a smile, but he looks nervous, “Was that...a good reading?”

Phil nods slowly, trying to gather his thoughts, “It certainly makes sense.”

“Well, I mean, of course it does,” Dan says it before he means to, wincing.

“What do you mean?” Phil’s on the defensive, but he’s also curious. They don’t often have this conversation, but when they do, Dan usually shuts him down before he can get a word in.

“Well...she knows you - she knows what you’re about, and so she simply used the vague representations of those cards to make your situation make sense. It’s like when you read your horoscope and it says you’re going to experience a win, and then you find five bucks and you consider it a win,” he says all in one breath, “It’s coincidence and a bit of manipulation on her part.”

Phil takes a breath and Dan prepares for backlash and regret for bringing him along, but Phil ends up smiling.

“What do you think tarot readings are for?” he asks simply.

Dan takes a moment to think, “People go to get their fortunes read. They want to know what their future is.”

Phil nods and he’s still thinking. It takes him a few more paces before he begins to speak, “Tarot doesn’t deal in absolutes,” he explains softly as they walk back to the train, “Tarot makes you reflect, and it helps put perspective into your experiences. If I found five bucks on the sidewalk, in general I wouldn’t call that a win. That’s luck,” he explained, “But if my horoscope said I would get a win, I’d be looking for a win. I’d appreciate this situation so much more because suddenly, it’s a win.”

Dan raised an eyebrow, clearly not understanding.

“Before she mentioned the Judgement card, I didn’t even realise I was feeling upset about our lease coming to an end. And sure, I put the words there, but it’s not like the feelings were new. It’s like… therapy, but through pictures.”

It takes him a moment to understand before Dan is nodding. It still seems strange, but he’s glad it’s not about mystical intuition anymore.

“And what’s this about the Magician?” he asked, “Someone holding you back?”

Phil smiles for a moment, pleased that Dan is taking it seriously and was paying attention, “I was thinking it might relate to our viewers, actually,” he says, “They’re manipulative in a way that makes us careful about what we want to produce. They’re greedy and… it changes the content. We edit out our controversial things because we’re scared it’ll offend, or intimidate, or go against our personas.”

It’s an interesting concept and Dan nods, relieved that Phil didn’t think that he was that manipulative force. Sure, he could admit that he was abrasive sometimes when Phil suggested something, but he’d never thought it would impact him in a serious way.

They stop at Starbucks for caramel macchiatos, because that’s what they do, and conversation dies about the tarot reading. It goes back to light banter, and a little planning for future videos.

It’s not until they’re back on the train that Phil brings it up again, “So what did you actually think?”

“About the reading?” Dan asks, and Phil nods, “I think… that the theatricality behind it is stupid, but I guess I understand more now. Before it seemed like… people were trying to scam others by implying they could see the future…”

“In some cases, I think that might be true. Scammers do exist. And I know you think it’s stupid, but part of me believes that the shuffling, the knocking and everything like that does mean something,” he says, a little self-conscious as he says it, “All of the cards are pretty broad in their interpretations, but… I want to believe that Marlene has the… the ability to...I don’t know, use her energy to help the cards give the truth, or something...”

Dan’s back to one raised eyebrow and scepticism, but it’s less judging now and just general disagreement.

“I respect your views, however I’m gonna go with a hard pass on that one,” Dan laughs, and Phil nudges him, but stays pressed against him, “She said to call, if you have trouble with interpretation? Do you… use your own cards a lot?”

Phil shrugs, self-conscious again, “A bit,” he says, “Maybe once a month, sometimes more. I’m trying to learn all the card meanings. It just helps ground me, I guess. Puts life in perspective. It’s not like I use them to make any big decisions… it just helps me to work out how I really feel about some things..."

Dan nods, “I think it’s cool. Kind of.”

Phil laughs, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, “Thank you for coming out today. It was really nice, actually. I was a tiny bit worried you’d stage a full on protest.”

Dan shrugs, “It was important to you. I didn’t understand that before, but I get it now.”

Phil sighs gently, content as his eyes close, and he waits a few beats before his mouth curves into a grin.

“So next year you’ll get a reading, right?”

#fanfiction #phan #phanfic #phanfiction #dan and phil #the curlew writes

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deervalleyut-blog · 6 years

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Snow Park Outdoor Amphitheater

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What better way to round off a day in Park City than with a show at Snow Park Outdoor Amphitheater? Part of the Deer Valley ski resort, the amphitheater hosts a series of concerts throughout the summer, bringing the very best in live music and entertainment to one of the most beautiful settings in Utah! Buying theatre tickets is an ideal way to bring culture, diversity, and entertainment into your life and the lives of your loved ones. But it's also much more than that. They're your passport to a world of history, fantasy, and art that is unmatched by film. Considering all you get from attending a live theatrical performance, it's easy to see that your theatre tickets can offer you an evening's entertainment -- and so much more.

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wiktoriawisniewska-blog · 7 years

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How do photographers use different techniques to document the journey of life?

This essay will explore the ways in which photographers have used different techniques to document the journey of life.The journey of life is something that every living thing will go through. From being a foetus in the womb to a fully grown adult.We face many challenges and will have to make decisions that are either the right or wrong one. The journey is what shapes us as an individual. The paths that we have to go by will have an influence on how we are portrayed by other people and how we portray ourselves.People may experience their life journey in different ways because of different events that they will be part of and the circumstances that they will live in. Photographers may choose to document an individual's experience of life at a moment in time. This image may portray the hardships that they may have faced or and emotions such as happiness , heartache , celebrations and joyful moments.All these aspects are what I will consider.

Ever since the first photograph containing a human being in 1838 photography has allowed us to use imagery to document aspects of people’s journey and life. It may be a journey from A to B or the journey of someone’s life, it is possible. Documenting someone’s story in photography is inspirational and interesting.

Many aspects may have an impact on the way the audience will decode the message that the photographer is trying to portray. One of these techniques may be the photographer’s and audience’s personal journey and what they have had to deal with in their life so far. The colour , composition and mise-en-scene is likely to have an effect too as when we see a derelict and dirty environment that people have to live in we automatically feel empathetic towards them and assume that they are unhappy or that they have had a hard childhood some may even think that those people have been involved in crime . However that may not be the case they may actually be very happy and grateful for their lives , they may be a happy family that is caring and is against crime. Whether the photo has been edited and enhanced or is original may also have an impact. For example if the photograph is original and possibly has used natural lighting it may seem authentic and therefore the audience will be able to connect with it a lot more . On the contrary when the audience see an image that has clearly been altered and edited they are more sceptical to be drawn to it as the media seems to abuse it. The resources available to the photographer will also alter the mood of the photograph. This is why I decided to investigate the different ways in which photographers may document the journey of life. By documenting one’s journey of life we are also able to present diversity. Diversity is a concept that maybe not everyone can understand. It is a way of understanding that each individual is unique along the path of ethnicity, race, gender, sexuality, political views, religious beliefs and other ideologies.

The first photographer which I have looked at is Lee Friedlander. Friedlander is an American photographer who in the 1960s and 19070s evolved an influential and often imitated visual language of urban ‘social landscape’. Many of his images include reflections in shop fronts, structures framed by fences and street signs.His work tell a story , a story about the journey of life through photographing the environment and possibly include people in his photographs.For example this particular image is called ‘New York 1963’.Some may see this as a romantic story . We can see a reflection of a woman walking it may appear to some as though she is walking towards the man on the left. Her facial expression is very serious and almost sad looking. We do not know how the man is feeling as we can not see his face. Because neither of them is looking at each other it almost looks like they have missed the love of their life just because they’ve been too involved in their own lives. Others may see the photograph as just random people who have nothing to do with each other walking and living their own lives. Also because the photograph is in black and white it allows the audience to focus on the message and subject matter of the photo. It also means that some details are a lot harder to notice which could be done purposely to show that there are things we don't notice at first glance.An aspect of life can be finding love and having gone through challenges that are not visible to people who do not know you personally.

The second photographer which I examined is Jacob Holdt. Holdt is a Danish photographer , writer and lecturer. His series of images called ‘American Pictures’ is one of his most influential pieces of work due to its effective photographic revelations about the hardships of American lower class. Holdt took off to America with just $40 in his pocket sized Canon Dial. He stayed at many people’s houses all from different social and political classes. This experience gave him the opportunity to document the real life of these people.

Alongside his photos Holdt gives us a brief text background insight into the person’s life. This particular image is of a man called Charles Smith who is a former slave.By reading the background texts we automatically feel sympathetic towards the man . This feeling can also be drawn from the audience by the way that the Holdt captures Charles Smith. In the picture our attention is automatically drawn to the man that's in the centre. This can be considered as a framing technique which also has a major impact on the presentation/documentation of the journey of life. For example if the main subject matter is hidden in the right third of the image the audience may not notice it as quickly , as naturally we start to analyze text and images from the left to right therefore whatever we see on the left first is what will be considered the beginning and most important. His expression is very sad and lonely. Which makes the audience question why he may be feeling that way. His hat looks like a hat that farmers used to wear , which relates back to his past as a slave.Also because the colours are very dark and dull we as an audience feel depressed too. What looks like , the man’s living conditions are in a poor state and the walls behind him are deteriorated which suggests they have been there for a long time and suggests poverty. I believe that this is Holdt’s way of showing the journey of his subject matters’ life, he focuses on the environment that the person is in to reflect their journey and that their body language and facial expressions reflect how they feel about it.

By photographing all these different people Holdt takes us on not only his journey but all these people's life journey as well.Also because he is travelling around America he is taking us on that journey too.Jacob Holdt’s ‘American Pictures’ project is a way of giving an example of documentary photography it is a popular form of photography dependant on a specific story or event through a long period of time in more depth.It is a very popular form of photography and is used to photograph people and environments which are relevant to history and historical events as well as everyday life.

Photographers often use different coloured filters on their photographs. These can be used to portray a certain mood or atmosphere in which they want the audience to decode the image. Each colour can portray a different feeling however what may also have an impact on the way the viewer portrays the image is the saturation of the filter.For example the photographer may use a blue filter which can be seen as serious however if he/she uses a light blue it can automatically be seen as much softer and therefore the viewer may be more understanding. As well as colour the hue of the photo may also have an impact on the way the photographer may want to portray a specific event or moment in time that is part of a person’s journey. Factors that may have an impact on the hue and colour of the photograph may be how it is edited or the equipment that is available to the photographer. For example if the photographer only has access to a low quality disposable camera he will not be able to review his photos and edit them therefore whatever colour and hue you capture the photo that is what you will have to stick with. This also depends whether the camera has colour or black and white film and if it has flash. On the other hand if a photographer has a good quality digital SLR camera professional studio lighting and flash he/she may be able to create a more manipulative photograph.

This leads me onto the third photographer which I analysed, Gregory Crewdson.Unlike the other photographer’s his work is staged . He uses large moving image lighting.His series of 20 photographs called ‘Beneath the Roses’ is a very theatrical yet intensely real set of images.Although his work is staged it still creates a story of surrounding a character’s life.The subject matter is usually centred and is surrounded with suburban environment.Just like in this photograph called ‘Ophelia’ we have a plain suburban house which is flooded and in the middle of it Crewdson introduces , what could possibly be , a woman’s corpse. The photograph is still and cold, possibly reflecting the end of this woman’s journey of life.Because the photo is staged we are not able to tell the whole life journey of the woman but we are witnessing a specific moment in time and the end of her journey.

In conclusion from the three photographers that I researched I believe that Jacob Holdt’s technique is the most effective in documenting the journey of life as it is authentic and shows true life situations. I believe that documenting people’s life through photography is more effective and believable than text because what we see is what we believe whereas text can be altered.

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cicadagarage2 · 4 years

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Geraldo Rivera's 1986 live TV occasion "The Secret of Al Capone's Vault" didn't discover the score in a secret vault in Chicago's Lexington Hotel." There has constantly been talk of 'What truly happened to Al Capone's money?'" states Eig. "He invested his cash like crazy. al capone movie amazon believe that's the answer, he never accumulated much." Capone had one son, Albert Francis (played by Noel Fisher), who passed away at 85 in 2004.

Capone (1975) - IMDb

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Hardy instead ended up shooting in 2017, and in March 2018 revealed Fonzo as his next project. Later on that month, Linda Cardellini, Matt Dillon, Kyle MacLachlan, Kathrine Narducci, Jack Lowden, Noel Fisher and Tilda Del Toro joined the cast. Shooting started on March 19, 2018 in New Orleans, and lasted through May 15.

Capone on Screen - Andrew Ward - Medium

Unknown Facts About Capone Movie Review & Film Summary (2020) - Roger Ebert

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