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seancekitsch · 3 years

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Powerplay: a Marko x Reader fic

part 3 of 3, previous part here

Warnings: harassment, vamp typical shit, cursing, death/killing, smut mentions, reference to the book

Marko was a good boyfriend, it turned out, except for when he wasn’t. You liked the sweet little kisses, the teasing way he snaps his jaw at you when you catch him staring, the way he holds you while you’re falling asleep even though he doesn’t have to.You like that he listens, more than your friends do. You rang another friend the other day, and were left waiting with the endless ringing again. You want to be upset, but they weren't as close as you were hoping they’d be. Your close friends were back in New York, three thousand miles and a year of working behind you. And they were Marko and his brothers now.

You love the way he keeps you safe, your protector being probably the deadliest thing you could encounter. You love the way he laughs, always joking and jovial. You always thought his smile hid a joke like some mystery, but now you're in on it too, and it's the funniest thing. There is no secret joke, just Marko seeing the world with eyes full of humor. He sees the little things, and now he shows them to you. You love the way you can speak without speaking. Silence followed by heavy laughter, kisses, and understanding.

You even love that week you were on your period and every night he ate you out until you screamed yourself hoarse.

“Marko,” you’d say, “lets ride.”

And he would obey, letting you hop on the back of his bike, always after work, always too fast. You'd like to imagine him crashing as the wind whips your hair, stings your face. What that would be like, huh. It's what you assume he feels like when he flies, free and wild in the night. He caters to your every whim, makes you feel the happiest, as long as the sun has set.

He was less a good boyfriend when he was hungry, brooding and refusing to get close to you. He would be irritable, pick fights, silent treatment. He would purposely leave you in silence, but he wouldn't ask for a taste, despite your offering. He respected you enough not to try that. Other times, he would make sure that you could hear every thought in his head. His thoughts sounded like shouts, always telling you to get the fuck away, always reminding you how vulnerable you were, how easy to kill you’d be. It's almost maddening. You never knew which nights he would be the silent ones, or which ones would be the loud ones.

“Marko,” you’d say, “This is just temporary.”

You don't even have to think the words for him to know what you mean. Or those moments during the day when it's highlighted just how different he was, would always be. He would always be twenty and handsome and having fun, with a guaranteed group of friends. With a family he belonged with. You would always age, you would have to find something else to do eventually, and you would probably have to leave Santa Carla, because he wouldn't. You could always bore him, with Marko one day realizing you can't keep up anymore. You would always be weaker, and no matter how often Marko puts you first, he always holds the power. You’re only the decision maker because he lets you be. He could always take that power back. Find someone new when you get old and he stays the same age. He will always be this way, and you will always change.

It's those nights you think of pulling away from him, and you hope he never hears those thoughts. You love him, but he’ll always say it's not temporary. It's not true.

You love Marko today.

The jingling of the bell snaps you from your thoughts, head rising only to be face to face with one of the surf nazis. Huh, guess the boys didn’t clear all of them out. This one was tall, a skinhead with an upturned pug-like nose, wearing a lot of denim with eyes alight with mayhem in his agenda. Oh, please don’t fucking break anything.

“Hey Baby,” he sneers. God, his voice was even worse than his looks and his smell.

“Not your baby,” you deadpan, wishing desperately for him and his friends to leave without stealing or breaking anything forcing a sickeningly sweet customer service tone, “But what can I help with?”

Maybe good customer service will get them in-and-out quicker.

“That hot little body of yours could help me out,” his tone is outright mocking. God, is this how dudes like these think they can pull? You can’t even hide your grimace as you flinch at the words. If there was anyone else, just one other person working tonight, this wouldn’t be happening. You know this. Working nights alone practically invited this brand of harassment.

fuckfuckfuck. It’s way too early for Marko to be sniffing around, and if you can get them to leave the next four hours of your shift will be miserable. The man laughs, and it makes your blood run cold. He leans over the counter, past the little curtain of incense haze; breaching your only barrier of safety.

“I bet it could. Couldn’t it, baby?”

His large arms press against the glass of the counter and your eyes immediately flicker from them to the back room, where your knife is. He straightens up.

“Cat got your tongue?”

You frown, meeting his eyes now.

“Do you plan on buying anything we sell?” The Bauhaus record you have playing over the speaker skips, and you almost jump. It's just enough to break the tension, the rising bile in your throat clearing.

“I come in here for you, girlie,” and he affirms what you already know. Now that half of the surf nazis were gone, they were struggling to maintain their turf on the boardwalk. So harassment and torture at their hands were on the rise. Many people over the past few weeks had been dodging them in the stores around here, and now apparently they had caught wise to that. Done with it, you take a step back, leaning yourself against the back shelf to retreat further into the curtain of nag champa.

“You can fuck off,” you offer, gaining confidence as you realize the bong behind your head was more than affordable, and if you broke it over his head, you could cover it.

He opens his mouth to respond, but-

The bell on the door jingles again. A familiar smile fades into a scowl. Marko looks like one of those greek heroes tonight, maybe if only because his presence saves you from the gross comments (or anything worse) of the shaved head across the counter. He immediately distracts the surfer from you.

“Why don’t you get outta here, buddy? Me and the lady were just discussing me trying her out later,” the man spits, and you almost gag at the mental image of that.

Marko laughs, that high pitched full body laugh you love so much.

“That’s funny, buddy,” He throws the man’s nickname back at him, “Cause that’s my old lady right there.”

You loved and hated when he called you that. Technically, you are a year older than the year he turned. The first time you all realized that, Paul gave himself a stomach ache laughing over the ‘older woman’ Marko brought home. Tonight though, the nickname brings the biggest smile to your lips.

“Damn right I am,” you chime in, “and you couldn’t take the hint.”

Marko seals the deal by striding over to where you are and pulling you into a kiss over the counter. It doesn't take much more for the surf nazi to leave, the jingling of the door opening announcing his departure.

“I’m gonna make sure we kill the rest of them before the week is out.”

He waits the three hours it takes for you to be able to lock up behind the counter with you, loosely holding your hips and following you around, only moving away from you to pick out new records when one ends.

Come over tonight, Marko thinks, and you know it isn't a suggestion. You kiss him hard on the mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him to press against you. His arms automatically find themselves around your waist, squeezing you as he eagerly returns the kiss. This wouldn’t be your first time at their dilapidated hotel, with sprawling caves and chandeliers and beautiful spray painted murals on the walls. The first time you were there, he brought you there while the others were hunting. He fucked you on any surface not covered with knick knacks they'd collected or takeout containers, leaving you to sheepishly blush while he proudly talked to the others when they returned, deep red hickies and a bite mark on your collarbone you couldn't hide. The next time, the boys and Star and Laddie welcomed you in with booze and a feast and a fun night where you had to crawl out of the cave at dawn looking like a mess. Either way, he waits for you to agree before he leads you to his motorcycle.

“Star, Why don't you just become one of us already?” Paul whined, holding his half eaten eggroll like a cigar, “You're already living with us, Mama. We just want to be friends forever.”

She scrunches her nose, smoothing the long hair of Laddie’s head in her lap. The boy was tired, their unofficial little brother or not, he was still an eight year old.

“Or maybe,” David starts, dropping down from the rim of the check in counter of the hotel, “Star can just have some fun with them and we don’t even have to do what Max wants.”

The boys all laugh, Dwayne’s shoulders turning inward, while Paul smacks Marko in the chest behind you. Whoever Max was, he was someone that could give the boys orders; something you didnt think possible besides their own little group hierarchy. You'd figured out pretty quickly that David was the leader, Marko was his right hand, Dwayne was the left hand; with Marko enforcing, playful and impulsive, and Dwayne being the level head, logical and the one who often kept the boys from fighting and made them all remember why they loved each other so much. Paul was the baby. Both literally and figuratively. He was the messiest, the most likely to slip up;. He was also the one turned last. So when Star decides to be one of them, she’ll be the new baby. Then Laddie.

“No,” Star affirms, “No, I can’t do that to Michael.”

“Michael,” David tests the name on his lips, tongue darting out to lick them after he says it. The curly haired brunette on the boardwalk had a name. Then his eyes flick to you. There's a sharpness to them that feels so different from Marko’s. David is trying to stare through you, not to look inside of your head, to look past it, to see any weakness. A challenge.

“Who’s Max?” you speak up from your spot on Marko’s lap. You can feel him tense under you, but David smiles.

“You don't know about Max? Marko, you didn’t tell her about Max?”

Marko’s hand wraps around your wrist as David continues.

“Max knows all about you, y/n. There’s a reason you're here.”

Here as in, still alive in a vampire den, or here tonight specifically?

Mind thing? You think, and Marko leans his head down against your shoulder as he nods.

“So he knows Marko and I are X-men? Is he Professor X?”

You hear Dwayne and Paul chuckle from the other side of the circle, and Dwayne mutters, “Yeah something like that,” as he swats his hand at Paul’s mesh-covered chest.

“He sired us,” David clarifies.

“You feel it right?” changing the subject, “You feel like you need to be near Marko?”

Marko squeezes your wrist in encouragement, and you nod.

“He’s my boyfriend.”

“That's not what I mean.”

You know what he means. It's the way you feel Marko before you see him, the way you can never sneak up on him.

You nod again.

“That’s what Max wanted to know. Marko, do you wanna tell her, or should I?”

What does he mean? You think and the man below you perks up.

Come with me. His palms grip your hips and gently push you to stand, and he follows suit before taking the lead.

He leads you towards the mouth of the cave, where you enter and away from any listening ears.

“So you know how David is dating Star?” he asks, voice low and close to you in the shadows.

“If that’s what they’re doing,” you joke, and he laughs along with you.

“Well, he thought they had what we have, and that's why she’s with us.” He reaches for your hands to hold them, dropping any playfulness from before.

“I’m supposed to turn you, Max thinks. He’s a lot older than us, and he says some vampires have mates or something similar to that. Others they have some deep mental connection with. The guys… we can hear each other sometimes if we try hard, because we’re a pack. I don't have to try with you and that's why Max thinks it's different.”

Turn you? Like, capital T- Turn you? Into one of them? If he turned you, you’d never see the sun again; never feel its warmth. You’d have to drink blood, and human blood at that. You’d become a killer, and you’d have to keep killing. While you aren’t innocent, killing kind of seems like it would be a stretch for you. Some of their victims had to be innocent, but would your hunger corrupt your morals one day?

It's like he can see the wheels turning in your head, ability to hear your thoughts or not.

“Y/n, you don't have to. Fuck, this was dumb to bring up. David thought you were ready, but if you don't want to I won't make you…” He trails off, visibly a little more deflated.

But if you did, you would be on the same level as Marko. All of the insecurities you have about your relationship would just… stop existing. Your relationship’s expiration date would disappear, your fears about having to leave him or him leaving you would disappear. You'd have people and a place to belong and lover and guaranteed group of friends to be a new family.

“How does it work, Marko?” your voice surprises him, and in honesty, he brought you to the mouth of the cave to give you an out. If you wanted to leave here, leave him specifically, he was going to let you.

“You gotta drink, uh, vampire blood.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

You shrug.

“Are you sure? There's no take backs for this,” Marko’s voice is stern, unlike you ever heard it before.

Deadly sure, Marko.

He smiles, slowly like the moon rising in the night before it crescendos into the wide toothy grin you're so used to seeing.

Marko leads you back into the den of the cave where the others are hanging out.

Dwayne is the first to approach the two of you.

“Everything okay?”

You nod thankfully, offering him a smile.

Paul swoops in next.

“You better be tellin’ me you're joining the fam, chica!”

He tries to drape his arm around your shoulder, but Marko pushes him away playfully, both of the boys smiling.

“Let’s get this girl a drink!” Marko shouts, and the guys start up hollering and laughing.

Marko leads you back to where you had originally been sitting, his designated folding chair. He gestures to you to sit down, while he looks to David for something. Over his shoulder, you can see Star frowning as she watches on.

“Glad you got to talk it out,” David remarks as he hands a bottle of wine to Marko. Maybe you’ll be able to get used to his mannerisms in half a century. Marko hands off the bottle of wine to you, and your hands dip with the weight of it.

The wine bottle is bejeweled, another do it yourself project that the guys seem to love so much. It's heavy in your hands, dark and unseeing down the neck of it, but full. Marko crouches down between your legs, palms flat against your thighs as everyone waits with bated breath. You uncork the bottle, noticing the dark red staining on the cork, and knowing exactly what’s in it now. Two shaky hands bring the bottle to your lips, tilting your head back as you let the contents flow into your mouth, filling it. The ‘wine’ is thick, warm and salty but feels like it's already intoxicating you from just being in your mouth.

“That’s all Marko’s blood, you know,” David remarks, and you swallow deeply. All Marko. He drained his blood for you, weakened himself for you. Your eyes flicker to him, and he smiles up at you from his spot between your legs.

You smile back at him, widely, teeth stained with blood.

#my work #marko lost boys x reader #marko lost boys #marko x reader

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fanficshiddles · 4 years

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Butterfly Into Chains, Chapter 3

Esme didn’t get up until after lunch time the following day, as it had been a late one with her friends. Not at all because they couldn’t stop looking at the Alpha pack…

When she dragged herself downstairs, her Mum and Dad were sitting at the table eating lunch.

‘Did you have a good night?’ Wendy asked, smiling but it wasn’t a genuine smile.

‘Yeah it was good. Anything left for me?’ Esme asked, heading over to the cooker to see if there was soup.

‘Help yourself.’ Wendy said, then she looked at her husband.

Richard cleared his throat when Esme joined them at the table. ‘Esme… I heard that the Alphas were in the same bar as you were last night.’

Esme nodded while she had her soup.

Richard looked to Wendy, then back at Esme with concern. ‘Mason told me that one of them bought you drinks.’

Esme rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah, he did. He was being friendly though. And it wasn’t me he bought drinks for, it was us. Not just mine.’ Esme said in defence.

Richard sighed. ‘Even so. I don’t want you near them, they’re trouble.’ He said firmly.

‘Come on, Dad. They’re just visiting. They seem nice so far, the only Alphas causing trouble last night was Stuart and his pack!’

‘Esme. You know we do NOT have packs in this town.’ Wendy snapped.

Esme rolled her eyes again. At this rate she thought they were going to roll right back in her head.

‘Cronies then. Whatever.’ She sighed and got up from the table. Dumping her half-eaten bowl of soup by the sink.

‘Where are you going?’ Richard asked as he watched her grab her jacket and bag by the door.

‘Work. They asked if I could cover for a few hours. Mandy is off sick.’

‘Well, come straight home after.’ Richard said, but Esme didn’t take in what he was saying as she was out the door as quickly as possible.

When the young omega got to work, she forgot about her little spat with her parents and was smiling once more, greeting everyone into the carnival.

But half way through her shift, she caught the whiff of a familiar scent… One that made her skin tingle all over and her insides heat up.

Looking up, her breath was caught as she spotted two of the Alphas. When they saw her, their eyes lit up and they smiled warmly when they went over to her booth to get entry.

‘Hello, love. It’s Esme, isn’t it?’ The first one asked charmingly.

‘Yes, it is. Hi!’ She said with a bright smile, secretly ecstatic they remembered her name.

‘I’m David, it’s nice to meet you properly.’ He put his hand out and just like last night with Tom, when she took his hand he bent over and kissed the back of it.

‘And I’m Benedict, but just call me Ben.’ Ben took her hand before David had even let go properly and he also kissed the back of it, making her heart flutter.

‘Nice to meet you both. Are you wanting full tickets or just entry?’ She asked, quickly remembering her job.

‘Just entry, please.’ Ben grinned.

She was a little flustered as she took their money and then counted out their change. When she handed them the tickets, David made sure to touch her fingers and she felt what was like a little jolt of electricity between them that made her jump.

‘Enjoy your day!’ Her voice went a bit too high, making her blush.

‘When do you finish work?’ David asked before they moved on.

‘In an hour.’

‘Well, how about we come back here and meet you then. Since you did say to Tom last night that you’d show us around.’ He grinned.

Esme’s eyes widened. ‘Oh, uh… Yeah! Of course!’ She nodded.

‘Excellent. I’ll tell the others to meet us here, too.’ David said in delight, rubbing his hands together. ‘See you soon, love.’

Ben gave her a cheeky wink before they went into the carnival. She felt like she was going to faint from swooning so hard. But she got herself together and downed some water, then continued on with her job and tried her best not to think about meeting with all five of the Alphas at once…

After her shift, she spotted the five Alphas all gathered opposite the entrance to the carnival. She took a moment to compose herself, feeling ridiculous for letting a bunch of men get under her skin. But she knew deep down it was natural, it was in her DNA to be affected by Alphas.

The five Alphas were dressed down compared to last night. But they still looked smart with their shirts, sleeves rolled up their forearms and they were wearing sunglasses aside from Tom and David.

Taking a deep breath, she emerged from her booth and walked over to meet them. All five of them turned and locked eyes on her, making it feel like the longest walk she had ever done.

‘Hi.’ She said shyly, awkwardly putting her hand up in greeting.

‘Good to see you again, darling.’ Tom purred, making the first move, kissing her hand again.

‘I believe you’ve not met Chris and Michael yet.’ He said, motioning to said men.

They both in turn removed their sunglasses to kiss her hand politely. She thought perhaps that was just the way that gentleman greeted woman where they were from. Not that she was complaining about it, not at all. All the kisses to her hand gave her more pleasure in just a few seconds than Mason ever had in all the time she’d known him.

‘So grateful that you’re showing us around your lovely little town. And such a perfect day for it, too.’ Michael smiled, falling into step next to her as they all made their way along the seafront.

‘It’s my pleasure. I love showing visitors around, there may not seem much to this place at first. But it’s full of history and exciting stories.’ She beamed happily.

David looked to Tom and smirked, he leaned in close so only he would hear. ‘She’s a spritely little thing, isn’t she?’

Tom nodded and replied without taking his eyes off her. ‘She’s an absolute delight.’

The five Alphas enjoyed being shown around by Esme. She had stories for every place they went to. She was bright, bubbly and fun to be around. Seemed to know everyone as she said hi to almost every single person they passed, even the ones that looked daunted at who she was with.

At the end of the tour Michael bought them all ice creams on the pier.

‘You must let us take you out to dinner as thanks for giving us all your time today.’ Chris suggested, looking at Esme with hope in his eyes.

‘Oh… There’s no need, honestly. I’ve enjoyed spending some time with you all.’

Tom smiled and put his hand on her arm gently. ‘Very kind of you. But Chris is right, we need to repay you in some way. Besides, we would just love to spend some more time with you.’ He grinned.

Esme looked a little surprised at these Alphas wanting to spend time with her. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to say no.

‘Alright then. That would be nice.’ She nodded.

‘Where’s your favourite place to eat?’ Michael asked.

‘Uhm… I don’t mind really. I’m not too fussy.’ She shrugged.

‘But you must have a favourite place.’ Ben said.

‘Hmm… There’s a really nice restaurant just off main street. It’s got a good variety on the menu.’ She suggested.

Michael nodded. ‘That’s where we shall go then.’

Esme actually felt like she was on top of the world when she went for dinner with the pack. She had never felt so safe and secure before. Even though she knew she was safe in her little town, it was still a more warm and homely kind of feeling she got from being with the Alphas.

Over dinner, she got to know them all better. They were all really kind and friendly, funny too. She had a good time with them. And she was comfortable enough to share about herself, too. How she grew up in East Meadowridge, had never been anywhere else. But she loved her job and had enjoyed being in education beforehand.

‘Do you ever wonder what might be out-with this town? Never thought about traveling?’ David asked, sipping on his drink as he watched her across the table.

She was sat between Tom and Michael with the other three opposite.

‘Uh… Sometimes I do wonder what’s beyond here. But from what I’ve been told, I’m not really missing much. I mean, I don’t mean to offend yourselves. But I’ve heard that some packs can be quite nasty.’

Chris nodded. ‘They certainly can be. But that’s why you have to be careful, and also why an omega would usually stick with her pack or Alpha when out and about. Is there no Alpha here that you have your eye on, who would perhaps show you the world?’

Esme had a forkful of her pasta before answering him. ‘No, not really. I have been paired off with someone, but I doubt we will ever leave here.’ She shrugged.

Tom raised an eyebrow. ‘Who is it you’ve been paired with?’ He asked, turning more towards her.

‘Mason. He was in the group of Alphas last night at the bar.’ She said sheepishly. ‘He’d never take me anywhere like this though, the best place he took me to on a date was to the Indian buffet down the road.’ She scoffed.

‘So, you’re not happy with being paired with him?’ Michael asked.

‘Not at all. It’s the one thing I hate about this town. Being an omega, I’m forced to bond with an Alpha from here. But I’m sure you’ve all noticed the Alphas here are… well… not exactly anything to write home about.’

The pack laughed and nodded.

‘We certainly have noticed that, yes.’ Ben chuckled.

‘Perhaps you need to find yourself a different Alpha, one who will treat you right, as a beautiful omega should be treated. And one that will take you out of this town, show you the world.’ Tom purred, smiling sweetly at her.

She blushed and looked down at her food. ‘I wish it was that easy.’

After dinner, David and Chris walked Esme home since it was getting dark. And they wanted to make sure she got home safely. Which Esme thought was really sweet of them.

‘I really appreciate you both walking me home.’ She said when they reached her house, they stopped on the pavement outside.

‘No problem at all, love. Thanks again for showing us around today.’ David smiled.

‘Esme?’ Her Dad called as he appeared at the door, narrowing his eyes at the two Alphas who were escorting his daughter.

Esme glanced at him then looked back at the two Alphas. ‘It was no problem. Thank you for dinner, I really enjoyed it.’

‘You’re very welcome.’ Chris picked up her hand and kissed the back of it, David then did the same and thanked her again.

‘Esme. Get inside, now!’ Richard called.

‘I’m just coming, Dad!’ She shouted back.

‘We were just making sure that she got home safely, Sir.’ David said politely, smiling over at the Alpha.

Richard narrowed his eyes at David.

‘Thanks again.’ Chris and David said to Esme as she made her way up the path, waving back at them.

The two Alphas watched, smugly, when Richard ushered Esme quickly inside.

‘She’s adorable.’ David said as they made their way back to the hotel.

‘And she smells delicious.’ Chris growled, making David chuckle.

‘So what’s the plan?’ David asked Tom later that night. The pack was in their common room, chilling with some beers.

‘I think we can afford to play around for a while. I rather like it here, keeping the locals on their toes.’ Tom chuckled darkly. ‘Besides, there’s no rush. The more she trusts us, the easier it will be to take her away. And the bigger blow it will be to the Alphas of this town.’

David nodded in agreement.

‘What about this Mason guy?’ Michael asked.

‘I’d say we can deal with him rather easily, if he becomes an issue. But he hasn’t claimed her this far, I doubt he will do it within the next few days anyway.’ Tom shrugged.

#butterfly into chains #tom hiddleston #david tennant #benedict cumberbatch #Michael Fassbender #Chris Evans #fan fiction

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grigori77 · 4 years

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Summer 2020′s Movies - My Top Ten Favourite Films (Part 2)

10. BODY CAM – in the face of the current pandemic, viral outbreak cinema has become worryingly prescient lately, but as COVID led to civil unrest there were a couple of films in this summer that REALLY seemed to me to put their finger on the pulse of another particularly shitty zeitgeist. Admittedly this one highlights a problem that’s been around for a good while, but it came along at just the right time to gain particularly strong resonance, filtering its message into the most reliable form of allegorical social commentary – horror. The vengeful ghost trope has become pretty familiar over the past decade or so, but by marrying it with the corrupt cop thriller veteran horror screenwriter Nicholas McCarthy (The Pact) has given it a nice fresh spin, and the end result was, for me, a real winner. Mary J. Blige plays troubled LAPD cop Renee Lomito-Smith, back on the beat after an extended hiatus following a particularly harrowing incident, just as fellow officers from her own precinct begin to die violent deaths under mysterious circumstances, and the only clues are weird, haunting camera footage that only Renee and her new partner, rookie Danny Holledge (Paper Towns and Death Note’s Natt Wolff), manage to see before it inexplicable wipes itself. Something supernatural is stalking the City of Angels at night, and it’s got a serious grudge against local cops as the increasingly disturbing investigation slowly brings an act of horrific police brutality to light, until Renee no longer knows who in her department she can trust. This is one of the most insidious scare-fests I’ve enjoyed so far this year, sophomore director Malik Vitthal (Imperial Dreams) weaving an effective atmosphere of pregnant dread and wire-taut suspense while delivering some impressively hair-raising shocks (the stunning minimart sequence is the film’s undeniable highlight), while the ghostly threat is cleverly thought-out and skilfully brought to “life”. Blige delivers another top-drawer performance, giving Renee a winning combination of wounded fragility and steely resolve that makes for a particularly compelling hero, while Wolff invests Danny with skittish uncertainty and vulnerability in one of his strongest performances to date, and Dexter star David Zayas brings interesting moral complexity to the role of their put-upon superior, Sergeant Kesper. In these times of heightened social awareness, when the police’s star has become particularly tarnished as unnecessary force, racial profiling and cover-ups have become major hot-button topics, the power and relevance of this particular slice of horror cinema cannot be denied.

9. BLOOD QUANTUM – it certainly has been a great year for horror, and for most of the summer this was the genre leader, a compellingly fresh take on the zombie outbreak genre with a killer hook. Canadian writer-director Jeff Barnaby (Rhymes for Young Ghouls) has always clung close to his Native American roots, and he brings strong social relevance to the intriguing early 80s Canadian setting as a really nasty zombie virus wreaks havoc in the Red Crow Indian Reservation and its neighbouring town. It soon becomes clear, however, that members of the local tribe are immune to the infection, a revelation with far-reaching consequences as the outbreak rages unchecked and society begins to crumble. Barnaby pulls off some impressive world-building and creates a compellingly grungy post-apocalyptic vibe as the story progresses, while the zombies themselves are a visceral, scuzzy bunch, and there’s plenty of cracking set-pieces and suitably full-blooded kills to keep the gore-hounds happy, while the horror has real intelligence behind it, the script posing interesting questions and delivering some uncomfortable answers. The characters, meanwhile, are a well-drawn, complex bunch, no black-and-white saviours among them, any one of them capable of some pretty inhuman horrors when the chips are down, and the cast, an interesting mix of seasoned talent and unknowns, all excel in their roles – Michale Greyeyes (Fear the Walking Dead) and Forrest Goodluck (The Revenant) are the closest things the film has to real heroes, the former a fallible everyman as Traylor, the small-town sheriff who’s just trying to do right by his family, the latter unsure of himself as his son, put-upon teenage father-to-be Joseph; meanwhile, Olivia Scriven is tough but vulnerable as his pregnant white girlfriend Charlie, Stonehorse Lone Goeman is a grizzled badass as tough-as-nails tribal elder Gisigu, and Kiowa Gordon (probably best known for playing a werewolf in the Twilight movies) really goes to the dark side as Joseph’s delinquent half-brother Lysol, while there’s a memorably subtle turn from Dead Man’s Gary Farmer as unpredictable loner Moon. This is definitely one of the year’s darkest films – by and large playing the horror straight, it tightens the screws as the situation grows steadily worse, and almost makes a virtue of wallowing in its hopeless tone – but there’s a fatalistic charm to all the bleakness, even in the downbeat yet tentatively hopeful climax, while it’s hard to deny the ruthless efficiency of the violence on display. This certainly isn’t a horror movie for everyone, but those with a strong stomach and relatively hard heart will find much to enjoy here. Jeff Barnaby is definitely gonna be one to watch in the future …

8. PALM SPRINGS – the summer’s comedy highlight kind of snuck in under the radar, becoming something of an on-demand secret weapon with all the cinemas closed, and it definitely deserves its swiftly growing cult status. You certainly can’t possibly believe it’s the feature debut of director Max Barbakow, who shows the kind of sharp-witted, steady-handed control of his craft that’s usually the province of far more experienced talents … then again, much of the credit must surely go to seasoned TV comedy writer Andy Siara (Lodge 49), for whom this has been a real labour of love he’s been tending since his film student days. Certainly all that care, nurture and attention to detail is up there on the screen, the exceptional script singing its irresistible siren song from the start and providing fertile ground for its promising new director to spread his own creative wings. The premise may be instantly familiar – playing like a latter-day Saturday Night Live take on Groundhog Day (Siara admits it was a major influence), it follows the misadventures of Sarah (How I Met Your Mother’s Cristin Miliota), the black sheep maid of honour at her sweet little sister Tala’s (Riverdale’s Camila Mendes) wedding to seemingly perfect hunk Abe (Supergirl’s Superman, Tyler Hoechlin), as she finds herself repeating the same high-stress day over and over again after being trapped in a mysterious cosmic time-loop along with slacker misanthrope Nyles (Brooklyn Nine Nine megastar Andy Samberg), who’s been stuck in this same situation for MUCH longer – but in Barbakow and Siara’s hands it feels fresh and intriguing, and goes in some surprising new directions before the well-worn central premise can outstay its welcome. It certainly doesn’t hurt that the cast are uniformly excellent – Miliota is certainly the pounding emotional heart of the film, effortlessly lovable as she flounders against her lot, then learns to accept the unique possibilities it presents, before finally resolving to find a way out, while Samberg has rarely been THIS GOOD, truly endearing in his sardonic apathy as it becomes clear he’s been stuck like this for CENTURIES, and they make an enjoyably fiery couple with snipey chemistry to burn; meanwhile there’s top-notch support from Mendes and Hoechlin, The OC’s Peter Gallagher as Sarah and Tala’s straight-laced father, the ever-reliable Dale Dickey, a thoroughly adorable turn from Jena Freidman and, most notably, a full-blooded scene-stealing performance from the mighty J.K. Simmonds as Roy, Nyles’ nemesis, who he inadvertently trapped in the loop before Sarah and is, understandably, none too happy about it. This really is an absolute laugh-riot, today’s more post-modern sense of humour allowing the central pair (and their occasional enemy) to indulge in even more extreme consequence-free craziness than Bill Murray ever got away with back in the day, but like all the best comedies there’s also a strong emotional foundation under the humour, leading us to really care about these people and what happens to them, while the story throws moments of true heartfelt power at us, particularly in the deeply cathartic climax. Ultimately this was one of the summer’s biggest surprises, a solid gold gem that I can’t recommend enough.

7. THE LAST DAYS OF AMERICAN CRIME – the summer’s other heavyweight Zeitgeist fondler is a deeply satirical chunk of speculative dystopian sci-fi clearly intended as a cinematic indictment of Trump’s broken America, but it became far more potent and prescient in these … ahem … troubled times. Adapted by screenwriter Karl Gadjusek (Oblivion, Stranger Things, The King’s Man) from the graphic novel by Rick Remender and Greg Tocchini for underrated schlock-action cinema director Olivier Megaton (Transporter 3, Colombiana, the last two Taken films), this Netflix original feature seemed like a fun way to kill a cinema-deprived Saturday night in the middle of the Lockdown, but ultimately proved to have a lot more substance than expected. It’s powered by an intriguing premise – in a nearly lawless 2024, the US government is one week away from implementing a nationwide synaptic blocker signal called the API (American Peace Initiative) which will prevent the public from being able to commit any kind of crime – and focuses on a strikingly colourful bunch of outlaw antiheroes with an audacious agenda – prodigious Detroit bank robber Bricke (Édgar Ramiréz) is enlisted by Kevin Cash (Funny Games and Hannibal’s Michael Carmen Pitt), a wayward scion of local crime family the Dumois, and his hacker fiancée Shelby Dupree (Material Girl’s Anna Brewster) to pull off what’s destined to be the last great crime in American history, a daring raid on the night of the signal to steal over a billion dollars from the Motor City’s “money factory” and then escape across the border into Canada. From this deceptively simple premise a sprawling action epic was born, carried along by a razor sharp, twisty script and Megaton’s typically hyperbolic, showy auteur directing style and significant skill at crafting thrillingly explosive set-pieces, while the cast consistently deliver quality performances. Ramiréz has long been one of those actors I really love to watch, a gruff, quietly intense alpha male whose subtle understatement hides deep reserves of emotional intensity, while Dupree takes a character who could have been a thinly-drawn femme fetale and invests her with strong personal drive and steely resolve, and there’s strong support from Neil Blomkampf regulars Sharlto Copley and Brandon Auret as, respectively, emasculated beat cop Sawyer and brutal Mob enforcer Lonnie French, as well as a nearly unrecognisable Patrick Bergin as local kingpin (and Kevin’s father) Rossi Dumois; the film is roundly stolen, however, by Pitt, a phenomenal actor I’ve always thought we just don’t see enough of, here portraying a spectacularly sleazy, unpredictable force of nature who clearly has his own dark agenda, but whom we ultimately can’t help rooting for even as he stabs us in the back. This is a cracking film, a dark and dangerous thriller of rare style and compulsive verve that I happily consider to be Megaton’s best film to date BY FAR – needless to say it was a major hit for Netflix when it dropped, clearly resonating with its audience given what’s STILL going on in the real world, and while it may have been roundly panned in reviews I think, like some of the platform’s other more glossy Original hits (Bright springs to mind), it’s destined for a major critical reappraisal and inevitable cult status before too long …

6. HAMILTON – arriving just as Black Lives Matter reached fever-pitch levels, this feature presentation of the runaway Broadway musical smash-hit could not have been better timed. Shot over three nights during the show’s 2016 run with the original cast and cut together with specially created “setup shots”, it’s an immersive experience that at once puts you right in amongst the audience (at times almost a character themselves, never seen but DEFINITELY heard) but also lets you experience the action up close. And what action – it’s an incredible show, a thoroughly fascinating piece of work that reads like something very staid and proper on paper (an all-encompassing biographical account of the life and times of American Founding Father Alexander Hamilton) but, in execution, becomes something very different and EXTREMELY vital. The execution certainly couldn’t be further from the usual period biopic fare this kind of historical subject matter usually gets (although in the face of recent top-notch revisionist takes like Marie Antoinette, The Great and Tesla it’s not SO surprising), while the cast is not at all what you’d expect – with very few notable exceptions the cast is almost entirely people of colour, despite the fact that the real life individuals they’re playing were all very white indeed. That said, every single one of them is an absolute revelation – the show’s writer-composer Lin-Manuel Miranda (already riding high on the success of In the Heights) carries the central role of Hamilton with effortless charm and raw star power, Leslie Odom Jr. (Smash, Murder On the Orient Express) is duplicitously complex as his constant nemesis Aaron Burr, Christopher Jackson (In the Heights, Moana, Bull) oozes integrity and nobility as his mentor and friend George Washington, Phillipa Soo is sweet and classy as his wife Eliza while Renée Elise Goldsberry (The Immortal Life of Henrietta Jacks, Altered Carbon) is fiery and statuesque as her sister Angelica Schuyler (the one who got away), and Jonathan Groff (Mindhunter) consistently steals every scene he’s in as fiendish yet childish fan favourite King George III; ultimately, however, the show (and the film) belongs to veritable powerhouse Daveed Diggs (Blindspotting, TV’s Snowpiercer) in a spectacular duel role, starting subtly but gaining scene-stealing momentum as French Revolutionary Gilbert du Motier, the Marquis de Lafayette, before EXPLODING onto the stage in the second half as indomitable eventual American President Thomas Jefferson. Not having seen the stage show, I was taken completely by surprise by this, revelling in its revisionist genius and offbeat, quirky hip-hop charm, spellbound by the skilful ease with which is takes the sometimes quite dull historical fact and skews it into something consistently entertaining and absorbing, transported by the catchy earworm musical numbers and thoroughly tickled by the delightfully cheeky sense of humour strung throughout (at least when I wasn’t having my heart broken by moments of raw dramatic power). Altogether it’s a pretty unique cinematic experience I wish I could have actually gotten to see on the big screen, and one I’ve consistently recommended to all my friends, even the ones who don’t usually like musicals. As far as I’m concerned it doesn’t need a proper Les Misérables style screen adaptation – this is about as perfect a presentation as the show could possibly hope for.

5. SPUTNIK – the summer’s horror highlight (despite SERIOUSLY tough competition) is a guaranteed sleeper hit that I almost totally missed, stumbling across the trailer one day on YouTube and being completely bowled over by its potential, prompting me to hunt it down by any means necessary. The feature debut of Russian director Egor Abramenko, this first contact sci-fi chiller is about as far from E.T. as it’s possible to get, sharing some of the same DNA as Carpenter’s The Thing but proudly carving its own path with consummate skill and definitely signalling great things to come from its brand new helmer and relative unknown screenwriters Oleg Malovichko and Andrei Zolotarev. Oksana Akinshina (probably best known in the West for her powerful climactic cameo in The Bourne Supremacy) is the beating heart of the film as neurophysiologist Tatyana Yuryevna Klimova, brought in to aid in the investigation in the Russian wilderness circa 1983 after an orbital research mission goes horribly wrong. One of the cosmonauts dies horribly, while the other, Konstantin (The Duelist’s Pyotr Fyodorov) seems unharmed, but it quickly becomes clear that he’s now playing host to something decidedly extraterrestrial and potentially terrifying, and as Tatyana becomes more deeply embroiled in her assignment she comes to realise that her superiors, particularly mysterious Red Army project leader Colonel Semiradov (The PyraMMMid’s Fyodor Bondarchuk), have far darker plans for Konstantin and his new “friend” than she could ever imagine. This is about as dark, intense and nightmarish as this particular sub-genre gets, a magnificently icky body horror that slowly builds its tension as we’re gradually exposed to the various truths and the awful gravity of the situation slowly reveals itself, punctuated by skilfully executed shocks and some particularly horrifying moments when the evils inflicted by the humans in charge prove to be far worse than anything the alien can do, while the ridiculously talented writers have a field day pulling the rug out from under us again and again, never going for the obvious twist and keeping us guessing right to the devastating ending, while the beautifully crafted digital creature effects are nothing short of astonishing and thoroughly creepy. Akinshina dominates the film with her unbridled grace, vulnerability and integrity, the relationship that develops between Tatyana and Konstantin (Fyodorov delivering a beautifully understated turn belying deep inner turmoil) feeling realistically earned as it goes from tentatively wary to ultimately, tragically bittersweet, while Bondarchuk invests the Colonel with a subtly nuanced air of tarnished authority and restrained brutality that makes him one of my top screen villains for the year. Guaranteed to go down as one of 2020’s great sleeper hits, I can’t speak of this film highly enough – it’s a genuine revelation, an instant classic for whom I’ll sing its praises for the remainder of the year and beyond, and I wish utmost success to all the creative talents involved in the future. The Invisible Man still rules the roost in the year’s horror stakes, but this runs a VERY close second …

4. GREYHOUND – when the cinemas closed back in March, the fate of many of the major summer blockbusters we’d been looking forward to was thrown into terrible doubt. Some were pushed back to more amenable dates in the autumn or winter, others knocked back a whole year to fill summer slots for 2021, but more than a few simply dropped off the radar entirely with the terrible words “postponed until further notice” stamped on them, and I lamented them all, this one in particular. It hung in there longer than some, stubbornly holding onto its June release slot for as long as possible, but eventually it gave up the ghost too … but thanks to Apple TV+, not for long, ultimately releasing less than a month later than intended. Thankfully the final film was worth the fuss, a taut World War II suspense thriller that’s all killer, no filler – set during the infamous Battle of the Atlantic, it portrays the constant life-or-death struggle faced by the Allied warships assigned to escort the transport convoys as they crossed the ocean, defending their charges from German U-boats. Adapted from C.S. Forester’s famous 1955 novel The Good Shepherd by Tom Hanks and directed by Aaron Schneider (Get Low), the narrative focuses on the crew of the escort leader, American destroyer USS Fletcher, codenamed Greyhound, and in particular its captain, Commander Ernest Krause (Hanks), a career sailor serving his first command. As they cross “the Pit”, the most dangerous mid stretch of the journey where they spend days without air-cover, they find themselves shadowed by “the Wolf Pack”, a particularly cunning group of German subs that begin to pick away at the convoy’s stragglers. Faced with daunting odds, a dwindling supply of vital depth-charges and a ruthless, persistent enemy, Krause must make hard choices to bring his ships home safe … jumping into the thick of the action within the first ten minutes and maintaining that tension for the remainder of its trim 90-minute run, this is screen suspense par excellence, a sleek textbook example of how to craft a compelling big screen knuckle-whitener with zero fat and maximum reward, delivering a series of desperate naval scraps packed with hide-and-seek intensity, heart-in-mouth near-misses and fist-in-air cathartic payoffs by the bucket-load. Hanks is subtly magnificent, the calm centre of the narrative storm as a supposed newcomer to this battle arena who could have been BORN for it, bringing to mind the similarly unflappable turn he delivered in Captain Phillips and certainly not suffering by comparison; by and large he’s the focus point, but other crew members do make strong (if sometimes quite brief) impressions, particularly Stephen Graham as Krause’s reliably seasoned XO, Lt. Commander Charlie Cole, The Magnificent Seven’s Manuel Garcia-Rulfo and Just Mercy’s Rob Morgan, while Elisabeth Shue does a lot with a very small part in brief flashbacks as Krause’s fiancée Evelyn. Relentless, powerful, exhilarating and thoroughly unforgettable, this was one of the true action highlights of the summer, and one hell of a war flick. I’m so glad it made the cut for the season …

3. PROJECT POWER – with Marvel and DC pushing their tent-pole titles back into late autumn in the face of COVID, the usual superhero antics we’ve come to expect over the main blockbuster season were pretty thin on the ground, leading us to find our geeky fan thrills elsewhere. Unfortunately, pickings were frustratingly slim – Korean comic book actioner Gundala was entertaining but workmanlike, while Thor AU-take Mortal was underwhelming despite strong direction from Troll Hunter’s André Øvredal, and I’ve already made my feelings clear on the frustration of The New Mutants – thank the Gods, then, for Netflix, once again riding to the rescue with this enjoyably offbeat super-thriller, which takes an intriguing central premise and really runs with it. New designer drug Power has hit the streets of New Orleans, able to give anyone who takes it a superpower for five minutes … the only problem is, until you try it, you won’t know what your own unique talent is – for some, it could mean five minutes of invisibility, or insane levels of super-strength, but other powers can be potentially lethal, the really unlucky buggers just blowing up on the spot. Robin (The Hate U Give’s Dominique Fishback) is a teenage Power-pusher with dreams of becoming a rap star, dealing the pills so she can help her diabetic mum; Frank Shaver (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) is one of her customers, an NOPD detective who uses his power of near invulnerability to even the playing field when powered crims cause a disturbance. Their lives are turned upside down when Art (Jamie Foxx) arrives in town – he’s a seriously badass ex-soldier determined to hunt down the source of Power by any means necessary, and he’s not above tearing the Big Easy apart to do it. This is a fun, gleefully infectious rollercoaster that doesn’t take itself too seriously, revelling in the anarchic potential of its premise and crafting some suitably OTT effects-driven chaos brought to pleasingly visceral fruition by its skilfully inventive director, Ariel Schulman (Catfish, Nerve, Viral), while Mattson Tomlin (the screenwriter of next year’s incendiary DCEU headline act The Batman) takes his script in some very interesting directions and poses some fascinating questions about what Power’s TRULY capable of. Gordon-Levitt and Fishback are both brilliant, the latter particularly impressing in what’s sure to be a major breakthrough role for her, and the friendship their characters share is pretty adorable, while Foxx really is a force to be reckoned with, pretty chill even when he’s in deep shit but fully capable of turning into a bona fide killing machine at the flip of a switch, and there’s strong support from Westworld’s Rodrigo Santoro as Biggie, Power’s delightfully oily kingpin, Courtney B. Vance as Frank’s by-the-book superior, Captain Crane, Amy Landecker as Gardner, the morally bankrupt CIA spook responsible for the drug’s production, and Machine Gun Kelly as Newt, a Power dealer whose explosive pyrotechnic “gift” really isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Exciting, inventive, frequently amusing and infectiously likeable, this was some of the most uncomplicated “cinematic” fun I had this summer. Not bad for something which I’m sure was originally destined to become one of the season’s B-list features …

2. THE OLD GUARD – Netflix’s undisputable TOP OFFERING of the summer came damn close to bagging the whole season, and I can’t help thinking that even if some of the stiffer competition had still been present it may well have still finished this high. Gina Prince-Blythewood (Love & Basketball, the Secret Life of Bees) directs comics legend Greg Rucka’s adaptation of his own popular title with uncanny skill and laser-focused visual flair considering there’s nothing on her previous CV to suggest she’d be THIS good at mounting a stomping good ultraviolent action thriller, ushering in this thoroughly engrossing tale of four ancient, invulnerable immortal warriors – Andy AKA Andromache of Scythia (Charlize Theron), Booker AKA Sebastian de Livre (Matthias Schoenaerts), Joe AKA Yusuf Al-Kaysani (Wolf’s Marwan Kenzari) and Nicky AKA Niccolo di Ginova (Trust’s Luca Marinelli) – who’ve been around forever, hiring out their services as mercenaries for righteous causes while jealously guarding their identities for fear of horrific experimentation and exploitation should their true natures ever be discovered. Their anonymity is threatened, however, when they’re uncovered by former CIA operative James Copley (Chiwetel Ejiofor), working for the decidedly dodgy pharmaceutical conglomerate run by sociopathic billionaire Steven Merrick (Harry Melling, formerly Dudley in the Harry Potter movies), who want to capture these immortals so they can patent whatever it is that makes them keep on ticking … just as a fifth immortal, US Marine Nile Freeman (If Beale Street Could Talk’s KiKi Layne), awakens after being “killed” on deployment in Afghanistan. The supporting players are excellent, particularly Ejiofor, smart and driven but ultimately principled and deeply conflicted about what he’s doing, even if he does have the best of intentions, and Melling, the kind of loathsome, reptilian scumbag you just love to hate, but the film REALLY DOES belong to the Old Guard themselves – Schoenaerts is a master brooder, spot-on casting as the group’s relative newcomer, only immortal since the Napoleonic Wars but clearly one seriously old soul who’s already VERY tired of the lifestyle, while Joe and Nicky (who met on opposing sides of the Crusades) are simply ADORABLE, an unapologetically matter-of-fact gay couple who are sweet, sassy and incredibly kind, the absolute emotional heart of the film; it’s the ladies, however, that are most memorable here. Layne is exceptional, investing Nile with a steely intensity that puts her in good stead as her new existence threatens to overwhelm her and MORE THAN qualified to bust heads alongside her elders … but it’s ancient Greek warrior Andy who steals the film, Theron building on the astounding work she did in Atomic Blonde to prove, once and for all, that there’s no woman on Earth who looks better kicking arse than her (as Booker puts it, “that woman has forgotten more ways to kill than entire armies will ever learn”); in her hands, Andy truly is a goddess of death, tough as tungsten alloy and unflappable even in the face of hell itself, but underneath it all she hides a heart as big as any of her friends’. They’re an impossibly lovable bunch and you feel you could follow them on another TEN adventures like this one, which is just as well, because Prince-Blythewood and Rucka certainly put them through their paces here – the drama is high (but frequently laced with a gentle, knowing sense of humour, particularly whenever Joe and Nicky are onscreen), as are the stakes, and the frequent action sequences are top-notch, executed with rare skill and bone-crunching zest, but also ALWAYS in service to the story. Altogether this is an astounding film, a genuine victory for its makers and, it seems, for Netflix themselves – it’s become one of the platform’s biggest hits to date, earning well-deserved critical acclaim and great respect and genuine geek love from the fanbase at large. After this, a sequel is not only inevitable, it’s ESSENTIAL …

1. TENET – granted, the streaming platforms (particularly Netflix and Amazon) certainly did save our cinematic summer, but I’m still IMMEASURABLY glad that the season’s ultimate top-spot winner was one I got to experience on THE BIG SCREEN. You gotta hand it to Christopher Nolan, he sure hung in there, stubbornly determined that his latest cinematic masterpiece WOULD be released in cinemas in the summer (albeit ultimately landing JUST inside the line in the final week of August), and it was worth all the fuss because, for me, this was THE PERFECT MOVIE for me to get return to cinemas with. I mean, okay, in the end it WASN’T the FIRST new movie I saw after the reopening, that honour went to Unhinged, but THIS was my first real Saturday night out big screen EXPERIENCE since March. Needless to say, Nolan didn’t disappoint this time any more than he has on any of his consistently spectacular previous releases, delivering another twisted, mind-boggling headfuck of a full-blooded experiential sensory overload that comes perilously close to toppling his long-standing auteur-peak, Inception (itself second only by fractions to The Dark Knight as far as I’m concerned). To say much at all about the plot would give away major spoilers – personally I’d recommend just going in as cold as possible, indeed you really should just stop reading this right now and just GO SEE IT. Still with us? Okay … the VERY abridged version is that it’s about a secret war being waged between the present and the future by people capable of “inverting” time in substances, objects, people, whatever, into which the Protagonist (BlacKkKlansman’s John David Washington), an unnamed CIA agent, has been dispatched in order to prevent a potential coming apocalypse. Washington is once again on top form, crafting a robust and compelling morally complex heroic lead who’s just as comfortable negotiating the minefields of black market intrigue as he is breaking into places or dispatching heavies, Kenneth Branagh delivers one of his most interesting and memorable performances in years as brutal Russian oligarch Andrei Sator, a genuinely nasty piece of work who may be the year’s very best screen villain, Elizabeth Debicki (The Night Manager, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Widows) brings strength, poise and wounded integrity to the role of Sator’s estranged wife, Kat, and Aaron Taylor-Johnson gets to use his own accent for once as tough-as-nails British Intelligence officer Ives, while there are brief but consistently notable supporting turns and cameos from Martin Donovan, Yesterday’s HImesh Patel, Dirk Gently’s Fiona Dourif and, of course, Nolan’s good luck charm, Michael Caine. The cast’s biggest surprise, however, is Robert Pattinson, truly a revelation in what has to be, HANDS DOWN, his best role to date, Neil, the Protagonist’s mysterious handler – he’s by turns cheeky, slick, duplicitous and thoroughly badass, delivering an enjoyably multi-layered, chameleonic performance which proves what I’ve long maintained, that the former Twilight star is actually a fucking amazing actor, and on the basis of this, even without that amazing new teaser trailer making the rounds, I think the debate about whether or not he’s the right choice for the new Batman is now academic. As we’ve come to expect from Nolan, this is a TRUE tour-de-force experience, a visual masterpiece and an endlessly engrossing head-scratcher, Nolan’s screenplay bringing in some seriously big ideas and throwing us some major narrative knots and loopholes, constantly wrong-footing the viewer while also setting up truly revelatory payoffs from seemingly low-key, unimportant beginnings – this is a film you need to be awake and attentive for or you could miss something pretty vital. The action sequences are, as ever, second to none, some of the year’s very best set-pieces coming thick and fast and executed with some of the most accomplished skill in the business, while Nolan-regular cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema (Interstellar and Dunkirk, as well as the heady likes of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, SPECTRE and Ad Astra) once again shows he’s one of the best camera-wizards in the business today by delivering some truly mesmerising visuals. Notably, Nolan’s other regular collaborator, composer Hans Zimmer, is absent here (although he has good reason, currently working on his dream project, the fast-approaching screen adaptation of Dune), but Ludwig Göransson (best known for his regular collaborations with Ryan Coogler on the likes of Fruitvale Station, Creed and Black Panther, as well as truly awesome work on The Mandalorian) makes for a fine replacement, crafting an intriguingly internalised, post-modern musical landscape that thrums and pulses in time with the story and emotions of the characters rather than the action itself. Interestingly it’s on the subject of sound that some of the film’s rare detractions have been levelled, and I can see some of the points – the soundtrack mix is an all-encompassing thing, and there are times when the dialogue can be overwhelmed, but in Nolan’s defence as a film this is a heady, immersive experience, something you really need to concentrate on, so these potential flaws are easily forgiven. As a piece of filmmaking art, this is another flawless wonder from one of the true masters of the craft working in cinema today, but it’s art with palpable substance, a rewarding whole that really HAS TO BE experienced on the big screen. So put your snobbery at post-lockdown restrictions aside for the moment and get yourself down to your nearest cinema so you can experience it for yourself. You won’t be disappointed. Right now, this is my movie of the year, and with only one possible exception, I really don’t see that changing …

#movies 2020 #body cam #body cam (2020)#blood quantum #blood quantum movie #palm springs #palm springs movie #the last days of american crime #hamilton #hamilton movie #sputnik #sputnik movie #greyhound #greyhound movie #project power #the old guard #tenet #tenet movie #awesome sauce

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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The 21 Best Christmas Horror Movies

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Technicolor lights are about to illuminate every other home in the neighborhood; carolers are marching through the streets; even that old tree in Rockefeller is shining brightly.

For some folks, that’s enough to make you want to grab an axe. But don’t do that. Watch demented men dressed as Santa Claus or a demon Krampus indulge your Anti-Christmas sentiments with maximum gore. Indeed, this list isn’t about the most charming, heartwarming, or schmaltzy Christmas viewing traditions. Nah, this is about the 20 grossest, nastiest, and all around most fun Christmas horror movies. The kind where the greatest gift you’re going to get on Christmas morning is escaping with your life and maybe some psychological triggers whenever you see jolly men in red suits.

Yep, these are the very best Christmas horror movies. Ho. Freaking. Ho.

Anna and the Apocalypse (2017)

Almost certainly one of the sweetest, most positive, and upbeat Christmas movies on the list is this wonderful feel good musical romance from director John McPhail, which also happens to be a zombie movie. It follows a group of friends in a small Scottish town who are just about to finish school and are making plans for the future when a zombie outbreak lands.

Incredibly catchy tunes which take inspiration from Buffy musical episode Once More With Feeling, mix with inventive festive kills – zombie snowman decapitation is a highlight – in a way that manages not to tonally jar. It’s mostly thanks to the super-likeable performances of the young cast, headed up by Ella Hunt, and the teenage troubles, romances, and heartbreak which form the backdrop of the movie. Paul Kaye also pops up as the school’s tyrannical headmaster – his musical numbers aren’t the best but he brings cartoon villain energy to an unusual but rather adorable Christmas horror that’s way better than you might expect.

– Rosie Fletcher

Better Watch Out (2016)

Home Alone is surely one of the most popular and iconic Christmas movies of all time, though it is not, of course, a horror. However, if it was, it would look something like Better Watch Out, a slick reinvention of the home invasion sub-genre. Olivia DeJonge plays babysitter Ashley, who attempts to protect her charge, 12-year-old Luke (Levi Miller), when they are threatened by intruders in his home. But all is not as it seems.

DeJonge and Miller spar beautifully in a movie which plays with gender and coming of age tropes and includes handfuls of gruesome set pieces, while Ed Oxenbould brings comic relief. This is clever, funny and gruesome stuff from director Chris Peckover which might not become a new Christmas tradition but should definitely be watched at least once.

– Rosie Fletcher

Black Christmas (1974)

Getting stabbed by a unicorn head to the tune of carolers singing “Silent Night” is probably not how you want to spend Christmas Eve. This pre-Scream holiday slasher claims its victims in a sorority house haunted by creepy phone calls (sans ghost mask), demonic noises, bodies eerily shrouded in plastic wrap, and one perverse killer whose voice alone is enough to freeze your blood.

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When an unidentified caller keeps harassing your entire sorority house with obscene things you can only half-understand (because he sounds like a deranged Donald Duck that laughs like the Joker), you should run even if it is 10 degrees outside. The blizzard of murders keeps raging with one victim dragged screaming by a hook, and another bludgeoned to death. Never mind the one suffocated by plastic wrap and left next to the window like the vacant face of a doll staring out into the night. You’ll hardly sleep in heavenly peace after this one.

– Elizabeth Rayne

Christmas Evil (aka You Better Watch Out) (1980)

In his one and only film as writer/director, Lewis Jackson crafted a smart and clever black comedy that’s more character study than straight horror film. John Waters insists it’s a comedy about a closeted transvestite (of a sort), but it’s much more than that—it’s the Taxi Driver of Yuletide shockers. Brandon Maggart plays a man who takes Christmas way too seriously. His home is filled with bright holiday decorations all year-round while Christmas carols are playing on the stereo. Santa is his role model, a symbol of all that is good and just in the world. He even works at a toy factory.

He so identifies with Santa, he takes to spying on the neighbor kids, keeping his own carefully annotated naughty and nice lists. But when he recognizes the level of cynicism and hypocrisy among his co-workers, bosses, and the people around town as the most joyous time of the year approaches, well, he goes a little funny in the head. He reaches for the suit and beard and axe, determined to reward the good and punish the evil.

Maggart has since tried to desperately distance himself from the film, but he gives a remarkable performance here as a completely isolated figure with a head swimming with both joy and rage. In the end, the film remains king of the sub-subgenre. Screw It’s a Wonderful Life and Rudolph. Apart from Blast of Silence and Invasion U.S.A., Christmas Evil is the only holiday film I watch annually.

– Jim Knipfel

A Christmas Horror Story (2015)

Admittedly, a number of horror-based Christmas movie have gone with the anthology angle for their storytelling. Hell, this isn’t even the only anthology film on this list. A Christmas Horror Story may not be on a lot of people’s radar, but it’s a worthy installment that goes to some unusual places purely because both the Christmas and anthology playgrounds have gotten so bloated at this point. This film also benefits from being executed by a cabal of directors who are responsible for directing some of the best horror movies to come out of Canada in passing years, such as Splice, the Black Christmas remake, and the Ginger Snaps trilogy.

A Christmas Horror Story deliciously uses a radio DJ (William Shatner) as the connective tissue that holds together the four stories that comprise the film. Parables on ghost possession, clone doppelgangers, Krampus, and zombie elves all get their due here. The film also has a pretty inspired ending that actually casts the picture in a whole new light. It’s got Santa Claus fighting Krampus. What’s not to like?

– Daniel Kurland

Dead of Night (1945)

Never play hide and go seek in a house where someone was murdered. While it might be best known for Michael Redgrave’s night-terror-inducing ventriloquist dummy scene that sparked the phobia of possessed puppets, Dead of Night also invites you to a Christmas party with a spectral guest. Spacecase Sally’s genuine terror at realizing what she thinks she saw is what she really saw will forever have you second-guessing shadows creeping in the cold.

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What is obvious in this scene—encroaching darkness and shadows looming over what a place you know is haunted without ever having to hear the big reveal—is hardly as chilling as what is not so obvious until the truth silently materializes. The ghost of the little boy plays hide-and-seek with the other children as if warm blood courses through his veins. Unlike many stereotypical see-through phantoms of the era, this one doesn’t have that telltale translucence which would set off a chorus of screams. Being almost disturbingly normal is exactly what makes him so terrifying.

– Elizabeth Rayne

Eyes Wide Shut (1999)

Eyes Wide Shut was the non-denominational star at the top of Stanley Kubrick’s Christmas tree. Originally conceived as a Woody Allen vehicle, it almost starred Steve Martin after Allen insisted on reading the script from right to left. It is as much a cautionary tale as Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, bringing the whole family together with a different Christmas tree in almost every frame.

Kubrick pours on the cheer from the opening sequence at the Christmas party where the first gifts are unwrapped, and oh boy are they unwrapped. Bill Harford, played by Tom Cruise, dives right into the muffled spirit of giving after he performs a more than charitable deed for the party’s host, played by Sydney Pollack.

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Harford spends most of the film looking for the perfect gift like a slow motion version of Jingle All the Way, rushing around from New York City’s famous toy repository FAO Schwartz to downtown specialty shops, to the suburbs, where he can find collectors’ editions. Cruise pays Harford like a wooden windup toy, and not a particularly cute one, either. In spite of all the colorful lights and trips above and below the rainbow, Harford just can’t get into the Christmas spirit. He’s not even moved by the uplifting seasonal tunings of “I Want a Boy for Christmas” by the Del-Vettes. He recovers his seasonal facilities while humming along to the chant during the climactic illuminati sex party, though! The song is actually “Here Comes Santa Claus” sung backwards in Latin, adding more menace to the proceedings than Silas Barnaby brought to Toyland in The March of the Wooden Soldiers.

– Tony Sokol

Gremlins (1984)

Santa doesn’t exist… unless it’s your father in a red suit who met his untimely end trying to slide down the chimney with a sack of presents before getting stuck. Don’t tell that to the innocent bat-like ears of a harmless (for now) Mogwai. It’s exactly the kind of story you expect to hear while hunkering down in the shadows with a flashlight while a bunch of leathery green things with too many teeth ransack the neighborhood.

And as for Santa? That smell coming from the fireplace weeks later was no dead cat. Worst. Christmas story. Ever.

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This movie should be on every hardcore horror fan’s holiday playlist just for the musical monstrosity of those reptilian things decked out in Santa hats and earmuffs singing “Deck the Halls” at the neighbors’ door, sheet music and all. This is continuing proof that animals have a sixth sense, because her yowling cat senses something off about the voices warbling “Joy to the World” outside. She’s right to have an aversion to Christmas carolers.

– Elizabeth Rayne

Holidays (2015)

There have been so many holiday-themed horror films at this point—reaching Christmas and going far, far beyond that—so why not make an anthology film that takes that idea to the extreme? Holidays hits the expected staples such as Christmas, Halloween, and Valentine’s Day, but part of the fun here is how holidays with lesser expectations like Easter or St. Patrick’s Day deliver some truly horrifying content (seriously, the St. Patrick’s Day segment is disturbing, bonkers chaos).

The Christmas segment comes courtesy of Scott Stewart (Legion) and has Seth Green trying to survive the holiday as he attempts to get his son the perfect gift. Stewart’s installment feels very reminiscent of a Black Mirror episode with virtual reality, consumerism, and the dangers of mob mentality all playing their part here.

A lot of these anthology films also try to bank off of the name recognition and notoriety of the assembled directors, but Holidays proudly features a collection of mostly fresh faces (although Kevin Smith and Starry Eye’s Kevin Kolsch contribute segments). It’s fun to discover a bunch of new blossoming talents here.

– Daniel Kurland

Jack Frost (1997)

This ain’t the cringeworthy father/son bonding vehicle starring Michael Keaton. No, this is the Jack Frost where the killer snowman’s nose functions as both a killing tool and a device to sexually assault his victims. All square? But hey, at the least the film isn’t afraid to ride its ridiculous premise as hard as possible.

First of all, an actual killer named Jack Frost crashes into a truck of “genetics material” that causes him to transform into this cold abomination in the first place. That sets the tone pretty nicely for the abundant murders, sex, and plot holes that plague the town of Snowmonton (yup). It’s hard to believe that this film got made, with all of the visuals being some real spectacles that you don’t typically see in the horror genre.

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Jack Frost is the perfect Christmas horror film to shut your brain off and watch, or the title that you should be selecting right in the middle of your deep eggnog haze. It’s utter nonsense, but it knows that it is and has tons of fun with itself. We need more talented individuals trying to tap into the killer snowman subgenre. There’s still a true classic waiting to come to life here.

– Daniel Kurland

Krampus (2015)

Morbidly funny in its anti-holiday sarcasm and ridiculous demons, Krampus is like a mashup of the Griswolds, the Grinch, and every mythical beast that has ever been rumored to devour children on the naughty list. You’d rather get coal in your stocking than a killer jack-in-the-box jump scare… or find chilling hoof prints in the snow that are definitely not from Rudolph.

Krampus is one Yuletide monster actually worse than the Grinch. The grisly inspiration for this tale is a Germanic one about a hairy, horned, and cloven-hooved demon who stuffs naughty children in his sack and either beats them with a wooden switch or eats them (depending on who you ask). Also, his heart won’t grow three sizes from gorging on human flesh, either.

This version of Krampus is also hungry for anyone who’s lost their holiday spirit—whether or not you otherwise qualify for the nice list. Watch this with the lights off for the full effect of the power outage that works to the creature’s advantage as he goes hunting for holiday nonbelievers. Kids, don’t scorn Santa or Krampus will come to collect you.

– Elizabeth Rayne

The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)

There are some of us who know this movie verbatim and to the point where we will shamelessly break out singing “This is Halloween” and raise Jack’s quasi-Shakespearean monologue from the dead even in the middle of July. Or keep warning people that tragedy’s at hand. Or correct anyone who says there are 365 days until next Halloween by growling “364!” The stop-motion animation saga of the talking skeleton turned “Sandy Claws” bewitched an entire generation of ‘90s kids.

Even people who hate Halloween will stare with delight and awe when Jack’s skull bursts out of a snowdrift, and he first puts colored lights in his eye sockets and explores every “what’s this?” in Christmas Town like a spook in a coffin shop. You just can’t help but love the adventurous skeleton, even if he does end up making haunted houses out of people’s living rooms on Christmas Eve. Whether you’d rather be making Christmas with strangely somber carols, reanimated reindeer or toys that bite back, it’s now an officially unofficial holiday classic.

– Elizabeth Rayne

P2 (2007)

On the sillier end of the Christmas horror spectrum comes P2, a film named after a section in a parking lot, starring Wes Bentley and Rachel Nichols. She’s a business woman trapped in a multi-story parking garage on Christmas Eve, he’s the insane Security Guard who’s obsessed with her and really wants her to try his festive eggnog, so to speak.

Camp and gory, this is the directorial debut of Franck Khalfoun who would follow it up with a remake of Maniac. The movie was co-written by Alexandre Aja who made one of the greatest cat-and-mousers ever in Switchblade Romance. The set up is formulaic, perhaps, but the game performances and relentlessness of the action makes this worthwhile. And if that’s not enough check out a deranged Bentley dressed as Santa, for the angel on the top of the Christmas tree.

– Rosie Fletcher

Rare Exports (2010)

There couldn’t possibly be a more sinister place to search for Santa’s ancient burial mound than in the frigid depths of Lapland. It’s the same supposedly enchanted place Dick van Dyke hiked to in the search for Santa in an ‘80s musical Christmas special, except this time you won’t find him in a cozy cottage with stockings hung by the chimney with care. You won’t find the guy in red from the mall, but anything that takes a disembodied pig’s head as bait couldn’t possibly be jingle-belling on a sleigh with eight tiny reindeer, especially when he seems to have a ravenous appetite for said reindeer.

This time, “the spirit of the season” is literally the most malicious Christmas spirit that has ever terrorized the Yuletide. Even if you watch the whole thing in Finnish and don’t understand a word except the screaming, the ghost of the child in you that really did believe there was a guy in the North Pole will be forever traumatized. This glaze-eyed zombie incarnation of Mr. Claus doesn’t laugh like a bowl full of jelly. You better watch out, indeed.

– Elizabeth Rayne

Santa Claws (1996)

You do have to wonder what happened to John Russo along the line. 30 years after co-writing Night of the Living Dead, he came up with this decidedly sleazy but sadly unoriginal wonderment, which was much more focused on boobs than Yuletide butchery. In what by that point had become a battered cliché of the Slasher Santa subgenre, a young boy named Wayne (Grant Kramer) sees his mom having sex with a man wearing a Santa hat (!), and so murders them both. I’m not exactly sure how this transference would work in Freudian terms, but when he gets older, he a) becomes obsessed with a low-budget scream queen named Raven (played by low-budget scream queen Debbie Rochon) and b) decides he’s Santa.

As you might imagine, stalking someone when you’re wearing a Santa suit is no mean feat, but Wayne gives it his best shot. Most of the film, however, focuses on Raven and her extended family as she gets undressed a lot and wonders not only why that creep in the Santa suit keeps showing up everywhere, but why everyone around her keeps dying in a particularly bloody fashion. It can feel like there are two films going on here, a by-the-numbers stalker/slasher movie and a holiday horror film, which leaves me thinking Russo had one of them in mind, but after some eight-year-old smarty-pants came up with that clever “Santa Claws” pun, well, he just had to run with it.

– Jim Knipfel

Santa’s Slay (2005)

Christmas can sure scare the Dickens out of people. Hence why you can’t not watch a holiday horror flick in which Santa is the Antichrist, sentenced to 1,000 years of delivering gifts after losing a curling match with an angel, and played by former pro wrestler Bill “Who’s Next?” Goldberg.

As the only son of Satan (you know what they say about rearranging the letters in that name) whose grim legend is immortalized in the Book of Claus, he can now at last spread Christmas fear with weapons, karate kicks, hand grenades, exploding presents, and his own perverse idea of what “Ho ho ho” should really mean. Them’s the breaks once the bet’s terms are done.

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Santa’s methods of murder are fiendishly festive—to say the least. There is no naughty or nice list when it comes to an insatiable appetite for violence. He even knocks out poseurs in red suits and drives a sleigh with a rocket engine like it’s the Batmobile. Mall Santas everywhere are shaking in their pleather boots.

– Elizabeth Rayne

Silent Night, Deadly Night (1984)

Naughty children get punished with more than just a stocking full of coal in this Christmas chiller. Just the opening scene with all those empty-eyed animatronic toys haunting a window display after-hours should tell you that this is not a movie that’s going to end in visions of sugarplums. Forget that it’s supposed to be the season of all things magical. Those things can be more terrifying than every single plastic skeleton and gaping zombie mask you’ll ever see in a haunted house around Halloween.

You’d better watch out for that psycho in the red suit who grabs a hatchet off the wall as if it was his bag full of toys and packs an automatic pistol in his fur-lined pocket, murdering misbehaving kids he’s been watching undercover of shadow. This sadistic Santa clearly doesn’t believe in sliding down chimneys—and the only red he’s interested in wearing is the blood of innocents. If that won’t convince you to stay awake because he sees you when you’re sleeping, you must be Freddie Krueger.

– Elizabeth Rayne

Silent Night, Deadly Night Part 2 (1987)

Three years after the shit-storm sparked by the original’s ad campaign, some smart cookie decided a sequel was necessary. A tough call there, given most all the principals were killed off pretty thoroughly the first time around, but still, right?

But there was money to be made, so they brought in an untested director (Lee Harry), a mostly untested crew, and a cast of mostly non-professional actors. After a half-dozen writers took a swipe at the script, they came up with a confounding but tepid rehash of the first film. This time around, and mostly in flashback, we learn that after the first killer Santa was sloppily dispatched at the end of Part 1, his brother Ricky becomes determined to uncover what went wrong.

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He pays a visit to the sadistic Mother Superior at the Catholic asylum where his brother had been kept, and before you can say “ho ho ho,” Ricky ends up donning the red and white suit himself to do a little rampaging, though without nearly half of his brother’s imagination. They even used the same fucking poster design, just slapped a “2” on it. I guess hoping they might raise the same sort of ruckus the first one had. Sadly, it was too late for that.

– Jim Knipfel

Sint (2010)

Dutch director Dick Maas took some early steps toward Krampus territory with his re-imagining of the legend of the warm-hearted Saint Nick. Borrowing heavily from earlier Italian, Spanish, and American horror films, as well as Danish folklore, “Sinterklaas” here was actually a bloodthirsty medieval murderer and all around brute who oversaw a savage reign of terror. Finally fed up with all his nonsense, the ornery local villagers banded together on the night of Dec. 5 and lynched him. As per tradition, however, in the moments before he died Sinterklaas vowed vengeance from beyond the grave, promising to return every 32 years on that very night to do bad and icky things to the villagers’ descendants.

Over the centuries, the story was mainstreamed and soft-pedaled, becoming part of the local folklore. The character of Saint Nick became much more benevolent and child-friendly so as not to scare the wee folk. Then, well, wouldn’t you know it? That anniversary creeps around again, Sinterklaas is true to his word, and Amsterdam turns all bloody, leaving it up to an intrepid teenager named Frank to put a stop to the mayhem.

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A stylish, wicked, and hugely entertaining take on the darker history of a beloved legend. It was also the top grossing film in Denmark in 2010, which either says something about the Danish film industry or the Dutch themselves.

– Jim Knipfel

Tales From the Crypt: And All Through the House (1972)

The Crypt Keeper first emerged as a ghoulish EC Comics horror host in the pages of Tales From the Crypt who crawled onto the big screen in this horror anthology, welcoming unknowing tourists to his catacombs with bony arms open. What the tourists don’t know is that they’re all recently deceased. The invite is to a subterranean story-time in which he unearths the gruesome details of their deaths with a gap-toothed grin. Creatures are obviously stirring when killer wife Joanne is stalked by a homicidal Santa in this warped homage to ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas titled (appropriately enough) “… And All Through the House.”

So it is that “O Come All Ye Faithful” is interrupted while playing on the radio by a scratchy warning of a homicidal maniac run amok. And wouldn’t you just know it, this occurs right as Joan Collins is offing her husband with a shot to the head—and then realizes she has to dismember the body before cashing in on his life insurance. Her blissfully naïve daughter lets the killer jolly old elf in, shrieking that Santa finally came before he erupts into psychopathic rage. Clement C. Moore must be turning in his grave.

– Elizabeth Rayne

The Wolf of Snow Hollow

Certainly less purely Christmas-y than other entries on this list, The Wolf of Snow Hollow is nonetheless a wintry delight set during the holiday season. Carols play ominously in the background during key moments, and the immaculately snowy white setting of Snow Hollow, Utah is broken only by splashes of color from lights on homes and Christmas trees. Oh yes, and the blood of the titular werewolf’s victims.

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Jim Cummings’ film is heavy on cozy, ski town holiday atmosphere without leaning on its actual Christmastime setting at all. But good werewolf movies are a rare breed indeed these days, and a werewolf movie set at Christmas? Well…now you know what to watch when the moon is full each December

Mike Cecchini

Got any other suggestions for Christmas horror movies that we missed? Let us know in the comments!

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silenthillmutual · 4 years

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it’s my goal to eventually work through the whole list of the AFI top 100, so here’s what’s on it and what I’ve seen:

Citizen Kane (Orson Welles, 1941) - seen; incredibly overrated; probably would not have reached the popularity it currently has had Hearst not made such a big fucking deal about it. why this is the top spot is beyond me.

The Godfather (Francis Ford Coppola, 1972)

Casablanca (Michael Curtiz, 1942) - seen; pretty good, actually worth watching

Raging Bull (Martin Scorsese, 1980)

Singin' in the Rain (Gene Kelly, Stanley Donen, 1952) - seen; genuinely still incredibly funny and feel-good. please watch it if you haven’t!

Gone with the Wind (Victor Fleming, 1939)

Lawrence of Arabia (David Lean, 1962)

Schindler's List (Steven Spielberg, 1993) - seen most of; could not watch the second tape. incredibly heavy.

Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) - seen; not bad, but why the hell is this above Rear Window?! it’s hardly had the same lasting cultural effect as Rear Window, The Birds, Psycho, or even The 39 Steps

The Wizard of Oz (Victor Fleming, 1939) - seen, but like, who hasn’t?

City Lights (Charlie Chaplin, 1931) - seen; i think i like Modern Times better but it’s still good!

The Searchers (John Ford, 1956)

Star Wars (George Lucas, 1977) - seen; still holds up pretty well to modern scifi imo

Psycho (Alfred Hitchcock, 1960) - seen; a classic. should be above Vertigo.

2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick, 1968) - seen; i can understand why this made the list but if you can only watch one significant sci-fi film, watch Fritz Lang’s Metropolis instead. to everyone except cishet white guys, 2001ASO will be extraordinarily difficult to sit through. the pacing is godawful.

Sunset Boulevard (Billy Wilder, 1950)

The Graduate (Mike Nichols, 1967) - seen; not sure i can tell you what makes it special, though. i guess it’s good as far as 60s movies go, but i’d rather Rebel Without a Cause stayed on here.

The General (Buster Keaton, Clyde Bruckman, 1926) - i’m pretty sure i’ve seen this but i can’t remember anything about it.

On the Waterfront (Elia Kazan, 1954) - seen; definitely watch this one, it’s so good

It's a Wonderful Life (Frank Capra, 1946) - seen; obviously, since i’m Catholic. a Christmas standard, but if the holidays depress you don’t watch it then.

Chinatown (Roman Polanski, 1974)

Some Like It Hot (Billy Wilder, 1959)

The Grapes of Wrath (John Ford, 1940)

E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial (Steven Spielberg, 1982) - seen, but i don’t remember anything about it.

To Kill a Mockingbird (Robert Mulligan, 1962) - seen; i think it was pretty good but the only thing I remember is that Atticus Finch is the original DILF.

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (Frank Capra, 1939)

High Noon (Fred Zinnemann, 1952)

All About Eve (Joseph L. Mankiewicz, 1950)

Double Indemnity (Billy Wilder, 1944)

Apocalypse Now (Francis Ford Coppola, 1979)

The Maltese Falcon (John Huston, 1941) - seen it, but i don’t remember anything about it, so i’m gonna rewatch it

The Godfather Part II (Francis Ford Coppola, 1974)

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (Miloš Forman, 1975)

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (David Hand, 1937) - seen; the forest part still freaks me out, to be honest

Annie Hall (Woody Allen, 1977) - seen; i begrudgingly have to admit that it is pretty good. if you’ve seen (500) Days of Summer, you’ve pretty much seen Annie Hall.

The Bridge on the River Kwai (David Lean, 1957)

The Best Years of Our Lives (William Wyler, 1946)

The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (John Huston, 1948)

Dr. Strangelove (Stanley Kubrick, 1964) - i genuinely can’t remember if i ever managed to watch this all the way through or not. i know i tried several times in sixth grade because i, for some reason, had a crush on Peter Sellers, but if i ever managed to make it through it was apparently unremarkable enough that i can’t recall it.

The Sound of Music (Robert Wise, 1965) - seen; not sure what there is to say about it. but i certainly have seen it.

King Kong (Merian C. Cooper, Ernest B. Schoedsack, 1933)

Bonnie and Clyde (Arthur Penn, 1967) - seen; really wasn’t that great. not sure why so many people have a hardon for this movie. again...could we not have kept Rebel Without a Cause instead?

Midnight Cowboy (John Schlesinger, 1969)

The Philadelphia Story (George Cukor, 1940)

Shane (George Stevens, 1953)

It Happened One Night (Frank Capra, 1934)

A Streetcar Named Desire (Elia Kazan, 1951)

Rear Window (Alfred Hitchcock, 1954) - seen; definitely up there with Psycho. how this placed so far behind Vertigo, of all the Hitchcock movies, i’ll never understand. skip Vertigo and watch Rear Window instead.

Intolerance (D. W. Griffith, 1916)

The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (Peter Jackson, 2001) - seen; very good, of course, but i rewatched it after reading the book and that was a pretty jarring experience!

West Side Story (Jerome Robbins, Robert Wise, 1961) - seen; the fact that this places below not one but two Stanley Kubrick films should be considered a type of homophobia.

Taxi Driver (Martin Scorsese, 1976) - seen; very dark but not bad. personally i think this should be above the Graduate in terms of quality.

The Deer Hunter (Michael Cimino, 1978)

MASH (Robert Altman, 1970)

North by Northwest (Alfred Hitchcock, 1959) - seen; pretty good but the ending is kind of abrupt. i guess it makes sense, for 1959 it’s absurdly long for a non-musical film. it’s like 2hr 15 minutes and that is just absolutely bonkers.

Jaws (Steven Spielberg, 1975) - seen; it fucking sucks, why are people obsessed with this film?

Rocky (John G. Avildsen, 1976)

The Gold Rush (Charlie Chaplin, 1925)

Nashville (Robert Altman, 1975)

Duck Soup (Leo McCarey, 1933) - seen about half of it and there is a very good reason i could not finish, and it is this: it was too fucking funny. it was finals and i was supposed to be writing a paper and i could not stop laughing.

Sullivan's Travels (Preston Sturges, 1941)

American Graffiti (George Lucas, 1973)

Cabaret (Bob Fosse, 1972) - seen; can’t think of another movie musical that deserves to be on here that isn’t already.

Network (Sidney Lumet, 1976)

The African Queen (John Huston, 1951)

Raiders of the Lost Ark (Steven Spielberg, 1981) - seen; i mean...it’s good... but an Indiana Jones film?

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (Mike Nichols, 1966)

Unforgiven (Clint Eastwood, 1992)

Tootsie (Sydney Pollack, 1982) - seen; not bad, but kind of a weird choice for this list? it’s not something that exactly jumps to the top of my head when i think of iconic films.

A Clockwork Orange (Stanley Kubrick, 1971) - seen; bad. extremely traumatizing. misses the point of the book. when Get Out comes of age i hope it replaces this nonsense. just another excuse for Kubirck to show off how much he hates women.

Saving Private Ryan (Steven Spielberg, 1998)

The Shawshank Redemption (Frank Darabont, 1994)

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (George Roy Hill, 1969)

The Silence of the Lambs (Jonathan Demme, 1991) - seen; one of my absolute favorite films!

In the Heat of the Night (Norman Jewison, 1967)

Forrest Gump (Robert Zemeckis, 1994) - seen; it’s been a long time, but i seem to remember it being pretty good. considering the cultural impact i would have thought it’d be up higher on the list.

All the President's Men (Alan J. Pakula, 1976)

Modern Times (Charlie Chaplin, 1936) - seen; i liked it better than City Lights, but to each their own.

The Wild Bunch (Sam Peckinpah, 1969)

The Apartment (Billy Wilder, 1960)

Spartacus (Stanley Kubrick, 1960)

Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans (F. W. Murnau, 1927)

Titanic (James Cameron, 1997) - seen; and though i personally think it’s overrated, i’m having a hard time grappling with the fact that it somehow comes after two Kubrick films i never hear anyone talk about.

Easy Rider (Dennis Hopper, 1969) - seen about half of it. not sure that this film even has a plotline.

A Night at the Opera (Sam Wood, 1935) - seen; i absolutely loved it. i still think the Marx Bros films are hilarious and i definitely recommend this one over A Day at the Races.

Platoon (Oliver Stone, 1986)

12 Angry Men (Sidney Lumet, 1957) - seen; i was always given the impression this was a pretty remarkable and important piece of film, so how did it wind up in 87th place?! after Easy Rider, of all things?!

Bringing Up Baby (Howard Hawks, 1938)

The Sixth Sense (M. Night Shyamalan, 1999) - seen; i know Shyamalan has never managed to replicate his success, but this is still a really good film.

Swing Time (George Stevens, 1936)

Sophie's Choice (Alan J. Pakula, 1982)

Goodfellas (Martin Scorsese, 1990)

The French Connection (William Friedkin, 1971)

Pulp Fiction (Quentin Tarantino, 1994) - seen, but it was pretty confusing to me at the time so i’ll have to rewatch it. i’m a little surprised Kill Bill didn’t make the list.

The Last Picture Show (Peter Bogdanovich, 1971)

Do the Right Thing (Spike Lee, 1989)

Blade Runner (Ridley Scott, 1982) - seen and plan on rewatching. how did this get lower on the list than 2001: A Space Odyssey? it’s just as influential to sci-fi films and much more interesting.

Yankee Doodle Dandy (Michael Curtiz, 1942)

Toy Story (John Lasseter, 1995) - seen, and i’m so glad it’s on here! it really does hold up very well. i hope none of its sequels ever replace it.

Ben-Hur (William Wyler, 1959)

Total: 44/100

#plato posts #film talk

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justreviewingokay · 5 years

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D.C. Beetlejuice Review

Let me cut to the chase. I know what you’re gonna ask, is Beetlejuice “good”? Now I have a very complicated answer, but I will say this: if a Tim Burton styled stage show is what you’ve always wanted, then should probably be off to see it as soon as you can. Hold your sandworms, I’m not done yet. Beetlejuice may be a visual masterpiece, but it is also a work in progress. If you’re looking for more than high caliber Broadway comedy actors and half-baked humor, it may be better to wait and see what the move to the Winter Garden Theatre has in store for us.

Now for the complicated answer. If spoilers aren’t your thing, turn back now, for the surprises of Beetlejuice are extremely rewarding.

Making it Beetlejuice’s given job to usher the dead into the netherworld is an excellent addition to the character, except there isn’t very much character to begin with. The opening makes the blind mistake of relying on the audience already knowing who Beetlejuice is. A newcomer to the show might find him confusing or vague. “The Whole Being Dead Thing” is an explosively entertaining number where BJ bashes some funeral goers. Cutting in half way is Lydia mourning with “Invisible”. Although the long arm gag is good and the bus driver costume from the film is much appreciated, the big B is introduced all too soon. The buildup is killed rather quickly and consequently, the anticipation. Alternatively, since the scene starts off with a dirge, Lydia could plunge right into “Invisible” with Beetlejuice popping out of the casket and delivering the brilliant line “a ballad already?” The audience cheers as he climbs out and begins “The Whole Being Dead Thing”, uninterrupted. Act One’s pacing is quite tangled, so this jumpy establishing song is important. Alex Brightman is an absolute tour de force and does his best with the often immature dialogue. It’s obvious that Brightman is doing a good job of balancing the voice, but it’s still a bit much when he’s singing. His vocal talents are betrayed in this respect and some of the lyrics are hard to understand because of it.

The Maitlands are brilliantly portrayed by green clad Rob McClure and Kerry Butler, known for Something Rotten! and Little Shop of Horrors, respectively. “Ready, Set, Not Yet” is funny, but far too frantic to be endearing. Contrary to the writers’ belief, Adam and Barbara can be thoroughly lame and likeable simultaneously. In the following scenes one could argue that too many pelvic thrusts are performed. The scene progression is quite choppy, with so many reprises that one wonders if the song ever ended in the first place. “Fright of their Lights” has a weird 1980’s sound and it has a great joke where Adam informs BJ that they can still hear him, with BJ responding “Well that was a soliloquy, so you’re the one being rude.” BJ’s interactions with them are typically crass, but not in a clever adult way, an almost childish mentality instead. Many of the jokes end with an unnecessary “F You,” which often feels like it’s only there to keep children out of the theatre.

The show really begins to pick up when the Deetz family begin to move in and Lydia sings “Dead Mom,” easily one of the best numbers. Sophia Anne Caruso plays the iconic goth girl in a way that doesn’t leave you cringing at all. As the show progresses, Lydia upstages everyone. An odd thing to note though, Lydia comes downstairs to dinner wearing a yellow dress to confuse her dad, which is exactly what Wednesday Addams does in the Addams Family Musical.

Slapstick is the name of the game, considering BJ himself isn’t given many witty lines in the first act. The sight gags are what work best, so you’d assume that the iconic Day-O scene would be the hit. Instead of ascending to a new level of ridiculousness, it stays at relatively the same length. A puppet roasted pig is added to the song which is funny by itself, but they didn’t stop there. The pig’s male organ begins to invade Delia’s personal space. Leslie Kritzer (a delightful scene stealer) appeared to be having troubles realistically interacting with it, awkwardly thrusting herself into the pig’s appendage for the remainder of the song. Even though it garnered some laughs, initially it was a distraction from more clever effects such as the shrimp hand. This is a perfect example for most jokes in the show; something clever is undermined by something vulgar. They say a funny person can make a good joke, but a comedian can take it to the next level.

Act Two is significantly better than the first, giving the ghost with the most just the right edge. “That Beautiful Sound” is my personal favorite, showing off the comedic prowess of Beetlejuice and Lydia as a pair, only seen before during “Say My Name.” Casting actual teenagers as the girl-scout and Lydia was a great move, considering the big concern among fans after the misfires in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

“Children We Didn’t Have” is a wonderfully somber piece, (beautifully sung I might add) but would have made a larger impact if the audience had learned to see the Maitlands in a more positive view throughout the first act. If any song is to be removed, I hope that this one survives instead.

Otho’s lines aren’t too brilliant, but luckily for them, they’ve got Kelvin Moon Loh to deliver. Brief as the character is in this version, Kelvin’s comedic talents make the scenes memorable. His days on SpongeBob SquarePants especially prove that he deserves a bigger spotlight.

“Everything is Meh” by Boy Inferno is quite brilliant considering… well… boy bands are dead. The netherworld has a well-designed look and the characters are quite faithful to the film, including Mrs. Juno Shoggoth exhaling smoke through her neck, Miss Argentina, a shrunken headed hunter, (the effect works surprisingly well) and that one guy who appears to have been run over. “Running Away” has a nice tune to it and its enjoyable right up until the “woah-oh’s” start off. This trope feels almost anachronistic and quickly evokes the desire to attempt Miss Argentina’s “little accident” on yourself. It does end up being a good moment though, with character development for Lydia and Charles.

The ending is hilarious and pretty unexpected. Beetlejuice’s exit is somewhat delayed though; every time you think he’s done, he turns around and delivers another cheesy one-liner. BJ being carried off into the netherworld was quite enough. Even though it doesn’t really make sense, (does Lydia somehow have a karaoke record?) it is indeed surprisingly pleasing to hear the cast sing “Jump in the Line”… and the levitation effect is flawless.

In fact, probably the best aspect of the show is special effects and scenic design. David Korins has done an absolutely astounding job of fulfilling Tim Burton’s vision, all while presenting his own take. Michael Curry’s puppet design is not to be missed, with smooth movement and grand scale. Enough cannot be said about the visual aptitude of Beetlejuice.

The music by Eddie Perfect is ironically not… perfect. Sorry. Rock and Roll style ballads may be a good choice for the musical, but a few things it still lacks. Remnants of Danny Elfman’s original score are always welcome and can be heard during some cues. After all, the music is half of what makes Beetlejuice feel like Beetlejuice. Thankfully, the keys and trumpets are pretty prominent in Perfect’s score, which helps greatly to set the tone. It’s important to mention that one thing is missing… strings. Violins are either utilized very little or are nonexistent. Sound design should be looked in to, most of the time the music overpowers the voices or the voices hide the music. Even though I have no hearing problems whatsoever, the lyrics were frequently hard to understand. (I do realize that this could entirely be the National Theatre sound system’s fault) When you come down to it, the music needs beefing up. Giving it a fuller, more orchestral sound to complement the rock instruments is the exact way to accomplish this. (See Hans Zimmer, Trans-Siberian Orchestra, Kansas, or Foreigner with the David Eggar Orchestra)

Overall, Beetlejuice is a spectacular show with immense potential. That fact is, frankly, quite enough to satisfy considering it could have been a huge misstep, similar to the fate of Moulin Rouge. With the fabulous cast and crew carrying it through, Beetlejuice could be an absolute Broadway hit in the making.

We’ll see at the Winter Garden Theatre on April 25th, 2019.

#Beetlejuice #Lydia #betelgeuse #TimBurton #Broadway #Theater #Theatre #Musicals #Netherworld #Spoopy #BeetlejuiceMusical #StrangeAndUnusual #AlexBrightman #RobMcClure #kerry butler #KelvinMoonLoh #TheBox

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tessatechaitea · 4 years

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Cerebus #4 (1978)

Elrod! So soon? Be still my quivering loins!

I may not have understood a lot of Dave Sim's historical references when I read began reading this series in my early twenties but I sure as hell got all of his Looney Tunes references! I read the Elric books the summer after my first year of college. I was eighteen. I would have begun reading Cerebus a year or two later. I was definitely reading it by 1992 when I was volunteering with the Santa Clara Junior Theater helping backstage because I passed the first Cerebus phone book around to anybody I could convince to read it by telling them about the characters stowing away on a ship and hiding in some barrels where one of the characters says, "Nobody here but us mice!" and Elrod pipes up with, "Squeak, I say, squeak!" Goddammit that still makes me chuckle. That was my long-winded and autobiographical way of saying that I understood the Elrod/Elric parody! I sometimes think of the first 25 issues of Cerebus as being less than the rest of the series. I suppose because they're a lot of individual stories coming just before the huge 25 issue High Society story arc, they can seem trifling and inconsequential. But we're only on Issue #4 and we've already been introduced to Red Sophia and Elrod of Melvinbone, two of the series most iconic characters. And examples of what Dave Sim does so well: characterization, parody, and mimicry. Sure, Red Sophia is basically just an exaggerated mash-up of Red Sonja and Pepé Le Pew. Of course, Elrod is just a blend of Elric and Foghorn Leghorn (mostly Foghorn Leghorn with an outer glaze of Elric). But he does their voices so well and makes them completely his own, fitting their foibles and eccentricities into Cerebus's world. And Dave Sim is funny. He can be absolutely hilarious. And is it next issue already that we'll get The Roach (it is not. Next issue is Bran Mac Muffin!)? I mean, can you name a comic book that got off the starting block faster without any actual planning?! Deni Loubert announces that she and Dave have moved in "A Note from the Publisher" and not much else. Well, she does exclaim how she forgot to write her editorial. I'm getting the feeling she doesn't really give a shit about these notes and just wants to get on with the real work of getting the stupid comic distributed. In his Swords of Cerebus essay, Dave Sim admits to having never read an Elric story so I guess I probably never had to bother with it either! Although knowing the author's name, Michael Moorcock, helped score some pretty good points in Scattergories on occasion. Speaking of Scattergories and not Cerebus, I once played the game with Sam Adams (ex-Portland Mayor and also my Uncle-in-Law. He also played the assistant to Kyle MacLachlan's Portland Mayor in Portlandia). The category was "type of dance" and the letter rolled was an "L". So my answer was "Lap". Sam sneered and said, "Classy." At least it scored me points and I didn't have to cheat the way Sam and his mom did! That was the Brush with Greatness story I would have told on David Letterman if time and experiences and space were different.

I realize a lot of you are living your worst online life because you view everything on a phone so, really, don't bother trying to read this. Although maybe it's actually easier to increase the size of on a phone! Stupid laptop. I hate you now!

In this essay, Dave Sim mentions how someday he's going to write an issue with Elrod, Lord Julius, and Cerebus locked in a closet. I'm pretty sure that eventual story is the one I mentioned earlier about the mice. I believe the story takes place between High Society and Church & State, maybe Issue #50/51 or something weird like that? When they're fleeing Iest after Cerebus's run as Prime Minister ends? Anyway, it was a great idea and a well executed and hilarious sketch. The issue begins with some guy dying mysteriously to some cursed gem he stole. But never mind his story. It's over and it probably wasn't very interesting anyway. The gem, however, continues on until it winds up in Cerebus's clutches. Cerebus has arrived in Serrea to spend the last of his gold (remember, he never keeps his riches for long) gambling and drinking apricot brandy. I called it Peach Schnapps in a previous review because, have I mentioned, my memory is utter shite? This is also the first appearance of Cerebus's vest. Dave Sim says so in that essay I scanned. But I'm sure I would have commented on it without the prompt because he's so fucking adorable. Plus his snout is nearly to its regular shape and size. That means he's maturing into an adult Earth Pig. After picking up the gem, some strange shit begins to go down.

Cerebus could have been meeting the stripper love of his life but instead he's battling weird magic figments of his imagination.

Remember that thing about my terrible memory? I can't remember if Death was an imaginary character brought on by the aardvark's strangeness mixed with the gem's magic. But I do remember Elrod was some kind of illusion created by this confluence of events. One of the saddest moments in this entire series for me was when Elrod blinks out of existence. I can't say how long I was in denial about that but, month after month, I kept hoping that he'd come back in another of Dave's retcons to make sense of past stories that didn't fit his vision of Cerebus's current world and story. I kept hoping that a bedraggled Elrod would wander into Cerebus's bar in Guys having once again somehow eluded death or capture or nonexistence through his strange blundering overconfidence. Maybe my hope in the reappearance of Elrod was what really kept me reading until Issue #300! Death's plan is to have the Crawler (that's the squiddy, octopus, vagina-stand-in thing) drive Cerebus into Death's clutches. But Cerebus has a knack for winning battles by knowing when to retreat and when not to retreat. Previously, he would have died in the wizard's tower while hunting the flame jewel if he had attacked the skeleton; this time he realizes that if he keeps retreating, he will lose the battle so he presses the attack. Four issues in and I now have total confidence in Cerebus's strategic mind. He can't be defeated even by what amounted to a Great Old One! At least according to Death's description of the beast. I'm not sure Death is the most trustworthy of narrators though. Also, is he really Death? Seems like a crazy character to introduce four issues in. How many issues was Gaiman's The Sandman on before readers were introduced to their next huge comic book crush, Death? Death realizes he can't manipulate Cerebus to force Cerebus to bring him the gem. So he searches for somebody he can manipulate.

Or does he create one? I suppose that spark is the moment Elrod comes into existence.

The first half of this issue was lacking in, as Dave says, "Ha-ha." And true to form, it wasn't that great. Standard sword and sorcery fare with Cerebus battling a monster and magical forces intervene in the barbarian's life. Death isn't much of a character and the monster wasn't much more than any of the listings on a typical wandering monster chart. But then Cerebus wanders into the market to meet one of the top three characters in the series! No wait. Maybe top four because I just remembered another character I love. Whoops! Make that top six. No, no, top seven maybe? Top ten? Christ I forgot about all the characters in Guys who read that Wankerman comic book which puts Elrod in, what? Top twenty, maybe? And do we count all of The Roach's incarnations as one character or several?! Anyway, he's a pretty good character.

Is this the most iconic entrance for a character ever? You know what? Don't answer that. I already said that I hate debating other comic book nerds.

Oh man. I'd completely forgotten about how Elrod refers to Cerebus as the kid in the bunny suit. Which provides for some great imagery later when we see their first encounter through Elrod's eyes. It must have been tough living in barbarian times and also this fictional world because, once again, Cerebus finds himself drawn into a sword fight for practically no reason. I mean, there were probably more reasons for every other fight he got into, like the one against the shadow beast and the one against the skeleton and the one against the wizard and the one against the Boreleans and the one against Klog and the one against the army hypnotized by the succubus and the one against the succubus and the one against Red Sophia and the one against Thugg the Unseemly and the one against Feras and the one against the Crawler. This fight happens because he just tries to ignore Elrod and Elrod is all, "Look at my hat! It's tall and pointy!" Remember that joke from Dave's essay where he said it made him laugh a lot? Yeah, it was pretty good.

Elric's sword was black but it was not called "Seersucker." It was called, um, Black Razor? No wait! Stormbringer!

Speaking of Black Razor, does anybody remember the names of the other two magic weapons that could be found in S2 White Plume Mountain? If so, I'd like to steal your lunch money and give you a swirly. A minor bit of explication happens on the next page which describes Death's motivations for seeking the gem currently in Cerebus's possession. It's the Chaos Gem and would be the 13th magic gem in Death's collection. That would enable him to kill even more people than he presumably already kills. I figure he's eventually going to kill everybody anyway so what's the hurry? Elrod's sword shatters when Cerebus blocks his first blow and Elrod decides maybe they should team up instead. Cerebus has yet to say a word as Elrod talks enough for the two of them. Also, it's a Foghorn Leghorn parody and Foghorn's foils usually have little to say. Half the character is in the bluster and overblown confidence. Elrod gets them both in trouble with the guards and hauled off to prison.

Maybe I loved Elrod because he reminded me so much of my gaming group's role playing encounters.

Cerebus breaks his chains in prison and escapes while Elrod continues to shoot his mouth off. He's useless for anything but talk, evidence, I suppose, that he's nothing but an illusion. I'd like to believe Dave Sim retconned Elrod into being some kind of magical, illusory creation because I don't like to believe that any writer plans that kind of stuff. Why even consider if he's a real being or not this early? But Dave Sim has that bit in the Swords of Cerebus essay where he says, "He always pops up, seemingly from nowhere, with no explanation of how he got out of the fix we left him in (Aha! You hadn't noticed, had you) and an entirely new vision of the best direction for his life to take." It's almost like he's winking at us and nudging us with his elbow, daring us to guess that there's something not right with the character. Maybe Dave Sim only came up with the "Elrod is an actual cartoon character" after a few more Elrod appearances. Cerebus throws the gem in a well, figuring it must be bad luck, and Death walks off dejected that his plan failed. Who's he going to manipulate into climbing down a well?! I mean, The Roach would probably do it. But it seems like Death's heart wasn't really into killing everybody quicker anyway. He probably realized it was just too much extra work. And that's it for the story! Not much in Aardvark Comment except for this list of creatures Cerebus has fought which I did not know existed before I wrote out my list earlier or else I would have simply used it and missed out on some of them.

Also, Frank Thorne wrote another letter.

Cerebus #4 Rating: B+. Dave Sim was correct in his essay about not much really happening in this issue. It's a lot of Death hoping for some gem for some reason which he never gets and nobody ever notices he's even trying, and Elrod going on and on and on about himself. It's a good first appearance by Elrod but he's definitely better utilized when he has actual dialogue with other characters. I loved this issue so don't take it the wrong way when I say my favorite part of this issue was probably when Dave mentioned of Wendy Pini. Elfquest was my favorite thing from 6th to 9th grade. Wendy Pini and Dave Sim have this thing in common: they're two of three comic book creators whom I went out of my way to get to sign my books. The other one was Terry Moore. And I guess you could include Richard Pini but I just think of him as a subset of Wendy.

#Dave Sim #Cerebus

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ahouseoflies · 4 years

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The Best Films of 2019, Part I

On one hand, I fear the direction of American cinema, and I feel more personally distracted from great art with each passing day. On the other hand, my viewing was up 5% from last year despite my belief that I’ve gotten choosier. I even approve of most of the films nominated for Best Picture. Are the offerings just top-heavy this year? Are my standards declining? Answering questions like those is part of why I present a paragraph or two on everything I see each year, though I can’t even imagine someone sitting down and reading all of this.

Full disclosure: I haven’t seen Just Mercy, Monos, Portrait of a Lady on Fire, Good Boys, Frankie, For Sama, or An Elephant Sitting Still. The tiers, as always, are Garbage, Admirable Failures, Endearing Curiosities with Big Flaws, Pretty Good Movies, Good Movies, Great Movies, and Instant Classics. GARBAGE

129. Cold Pursuit (Hans Petter Moland)- A film professor of mine showed us Wings of Desire and City of Angels, its American remake, in order to show us how a film can technically cover a story while losing the essence that made it special. I can only hope that Hans Petter Moland's Norwegian original is better than his stab at an English language remake, which fails completely at balancing violence and comedy. The movie almost announces its own boredom with the protagonist as it shifts focus first to the villain and then to cops on the case, all of whom have artificial quirks to try to give them life where there isn't any. The Neeson character's journey toward revenge is empty, so the film drifts from him, but it doesn't have anything to say with the other characters either. 128. Domino (Brian De Palma)- Seeking revenge, a Libyan informant roughs up a potential terrorist by throwing him over a restaurant bar. Cut to two cops driving wordlessly. Cut to the Libyan guy dunking the other guy's head in boiling soup. That interruption spells out what the rest of the film does: De Palma could not be less interested in his replacement-level actor's shoddy policework, especially in the self-parody of the last twenty minutes. Any intensity the movie has comes from terrorists (or Guy Pearce over-salting a salad), and then the police drain the momentum. Just make a movie about terrorists, Brian! And, as I've urged you for years, get rid of Pino Donaggio. 127. Beach Bum (Harmony Korine)- Moondog, the spacey, Floridian hedonist poet at the center of the film, is supposed to be "brilliant" and "a good guy" at heart according to his daughter. But at the daughter's wedding, he shakes the hand of her fiance, whom he usually calls "limp-dick," and he says, "What's your name again?" The line got a laugh in my theater, but is it likely that he didn't know the name of his daughter's fiance? Especially if he's a good guy who doesn't hurt people on purpose? It's one example out of a thousand of Harmony Korine making the goofy decision instead of the one that would benefit character or story. I thought that Korine had taken a turn for the lucid with Spring Breakers, but he just isn't interested in making anything consistent enough for me. There's an hour of consequence-free episodes to follow, though I did cherish Jonah Hill's three improvised scenes, for which he tries a sort of Tennessee Williams voice. You can admire how audacious some of the choices are--describing Zac Efron wearing Jncos makes the film sound more fun than it is--but looking at the poster gives you about 70% of what you would get out of the long ninety-five minutes. Yes, McConaughey's shoes are funny, but what else have you got? 126. Fyre Fraud (Jenner Furst, Julia Willoughby Nelson)- Half as good as the Netflix one. Please, by all means, explain to me what a millenial is again. 125. The Kitchen (Andrea Berloff)- One of my mentors stressed that Shakespeare worked in "cultural touchstones," truisms that weren't difficult to prove but served as a sandbox for all of the juicy stuff. So we all know that, say, too much ambition is a bad thing, but having that North Star at all times allows Shakespeare to ply his trade with character development and imagery and symbol. I know that The Kitchen isn't funny or cool or original, but it also doesn't really have an emotional or thematic core. It's a movie with neither the window dressing nor the window. I don't know what I'm getting at, but I watched the last five minutes twice to make sure that it actually was as anti-climactic and inert as I thought.

124. Climax (Gaspar Noe)- Ah, to be a provocateur who has made his best work already and took all of the wrong lessons from it. I don't envy Noe, who insists on formal rigor even when it adds nothing, who goes to greater, more desperate lengths to shock. A third of this film, embedded somewhere between the three openings, is gross young people talking, lewdly and clinically, about whom they want to bone. I thought I started watching French art movies to get away from locker rooms. 123. The Best of Enemies (Robin Bissell)- The supporting cast of Anne Heche, Wes Bentley, and John Gallagher Jr. avail themselves better than the finger-wagging, scenery-chewing leads, but that hardly matters in a movie this fundamentally broken. Apparently no one saw the problem with making a Ku Klux Klan president the dynamic hero of a school integration that he fought against, but that's how the story functions. He's the guy who casts the deciding vote and gives the speech at the end, but it's a bit anti-climactic for an audience that assumes, yeah, the White race is not morally superior to any other race. Congratulations on your realization, buddy. Long before that, Sam Rockwell’s character is inconsistent. Neither the Rockwell performance nor the Robin Bissell script can thread the needle between showing the heinous terrorist that a Klan member is and revealing the depth that foreshadows the character's change. The answer is to show the character being nice to his developmentally disabled son, which, again, doesn't get all the way there. That's cool that you love your own son, but, uh, that has nothing to do with the hatred that made you shoot up a girl's house because she has a Black boyfriend. Of course you can show these contradictions and changes in a character incrementally--lots of good movies have--but this one ain't going on the list. 122. The Intruder (Deon Taylor)- Probably the most two-star movie of the year. Prototypical in its two-starness. Instructive to me as far as what I give two stars. There’s a point of view error in the first twenty minutes that ruined it for me. ADMIRABLE FAILURES 121. Little (Tina Gordon Chism)- We're all good on body swap movies for a while. This one, otherwise undistinguished in its comedy or storytelling, is notable for just how specifically 2019 it might look in a time capsule: Here's a joke about transitioning as we're on our way to our job developing apps; there's a kid doing The Floss and talking to Alexa. Whoops! Bumped into a guy wearing a VR headset! 120. The Kid Who Would Be King (Joe Cornish)- I appreciate that somebody is still making movies for 9-10 year old boys, but I checked out hard and kind of just left this on until it was done. I don't like lore. Much less funny and urgent than Attack the Block, and it's crazy that this is the only project that came together for Joe Cornish in the intervening eight years. 119. Godzilla: King of the Monsters (Michael Dougherty)- Exhausting and joyless in its large-scale destruction, Godzilla: King of the Monsters pitches everything at the same volume, and even the end of the world ends up not mattering as a result. Despite (or maybe because of) the presence of such great actors, the screenplay dilutes the characters by having three fighter pilots or three scientists when all the lines really could have been given to one of these interchangeable figures. That's first draft stuff, homie. Still, Kyle Chandler is kind of awesome as the weathered one shouting about how everyone else is playing God. He reminds me of Larry Fitzgerald toiling away with professionalism on teams that would never sniff the playoffs. 118. Blinded by the Light (Gurinder Chadha)- I made it about twenty minutes into this movie before flipping the switch and making fun of it relentlessly. It tries to strike the heart-on-sleeve authenticity that a Springsteen song does, but if The Boss never overwhelms you with language, almost every line of dialogue in this film spells out what the character is thinking. The overbearing father is especially intolerable: "What is this music? You need to get rid of distractions and focus on getting a good job so that you don't end up a taxi driver. Like me!" I'm only sort of paraphrasing. Blinded by the Light is too well-meaning to be offensive, but it's absurd in its spoon-feeding. LMK, ladies: On the third time that I have headphones in my ears during a conversation with you, and I start buttering you up with lyrics to "Jungleland," will you still love me? 117. Fast & Furious Presents: Hobbs & Shaw (David Leitch)- What a summer, huh? The go-for-broke final setpiece redeems the film somewhat, and Vanessa Kirby is a welcome addition to the universe. But Idris Elba's first line, responding to a question about who he is, is "Bad Guy," and the characterization doesn't go too much further. I feel as if I have honed the requisite disposition to enjoy a Fast and Furious movie, but that doesn't mean that the most cliched thing has to happen at the most cliched time in the most cliched way.

116. I Lost My Body (Jeremy Clapin)- Not for me ultimately. The film presents itself as above the tropes of cinematic romance but sure seems to circle around them. Clapin is willing to set up the pins of, say, "I'm actually the pizza delivery guy but have kept it a secret for a year," but he is unwilling to knock the pins down with anything resembling catharsis. I don't know if the French bowl, but feel free to substitute whatever kind of metaphor they might get offended by.

115. The Lion King (Jon Favreau)- I saw the original Lion King when I was ten: old enough to think that Disney movies were beneath me but young enough to know nothing about art or the world. And I remember the way that the songs transcended reality: "I Just Can't Wait to Be King" turning into a Busby Berkeley number, "Be Prepared" taking on an expressionist green tint. It was mass entertainment that was far from experimental, but I remember thinking, "Can you do that?" As an artistic experiment, this remake is kind of confounding, to the point that I don't know whether to classify it as an animated or live-action film. The final scene starts upside down, and your eye adjusts to the idea that you're looking at a reflection in a stream, but that stream is a Caleb Deschanel-aided, computer-generated reflection of a reality. However, I return to my original point: You're missing something if you think The Lion King is a better story if it's more realistic. Capably made as The Lion King 2019 is, no one is referencing 42nd Street. These Disney remakes just reference themselves. 114. Stuber (Michael Dowse)- The critical community has been pretty forgiving of Stuber; I guess because it's a type of studio film that used to be common but now is not. Judged on its own merits, however, it's labored. The screenplay circles around questions of masculinity, but not in a way that hasn't been done better in other recent comedies. Perhaps most disappointing of all, I've seen Iko Uwais and Bautista fight before, and it looked a whole lot cooler than the way they're sliced and diced here. The ending's sweet at least. 113. After the Wedding (Bart Freundlich)- Think of what Julianne Moore could have accomplished in the time it took in her career for her to shoot four crappy movies with her husband. This is the type of melodrama that makes more sense after all of the revelations have cleared the air, but that doesn't mean the preceding hour and a half was any more fun because of the aftermath. 112. The Goldfinch (John Crowley)- One day someone's going to figure out how to coherently adapt a Dickensian novel and actually do that thing Crowley is trying to do: condensing two hundred pages of back story into 1/8th of a page here or a line there. Somebody's going to be able to figure out the little moments that are important and the big moments that aren't. And you'll all be sorry. The movie is ultimately hampered by the bad ending of the novel, in which a person who isn't a mystery writer has to solve a mystery. Perfect casting for Luke Wilson though. He definitely looks like a whiskey-faced dad who would steal your social security number. 111. The Souvenir (Joanna Hogg)- This movie is autobiographical. The protagonist has the same initials as Joanna Hogg, and she's attending film school at the same time Hogg did. But what a self-own it is for your hero, based on you, to be this inexpressive and restrained and deferential. The film is mostly about a cold romantic relationship--and I guess what the character learns through that experience--but when her beau's friend asks what she sees in him, she can't really say. Neither can the audience. I guess it's a skill to write a scene in which a family is having an argument that is so clenched-jaw reticent that the viewer can't even discern the topic of conversation for a few minutes, but it's not a skill I appreciate. 110. The Dead Don’t Die (Jim Jarmusch)- Jim Jarmusch must be a very good friend.

109. Velvet Buzzsaw (Dan Gilroy)- If the film were funny, I wouldn't mind the lack of narrative drive. If the film had narrative drive, I wouldn't mind the lack of atmosphere--glaring for a film that circles around to horror eventually. If the film had more to say, I wouldn't mind how pedantically it says it. If the protagonist's change of heart made sense, then I wouldn't mind that his conversion apparently happens off-screen. At least most of the actors seem to be having fun. I wasn't. 108. It: Chapter Two (Andy Muschietti)- I started squirming in my seat during a sequence somewhere in the circuitous second hour. Bill sees his old bike in an antiques window, haggles with a Stephen King shopkeeper cameo, and finishes the scene on a triumphant note, believing that his old bike will ride like the wind. Cut to the bike falling apart on the road, deflating his pride with comedy. Cut to a flashback of him riding the bike with young Beverly, serene and warm. Cut to him riding the bike again with determination until he stops, terrified. Within fifteen seconds, the film jerks us into four divergent emotions at a whim. The overall tone felt just as arbitrary to me, and that's before we get to the always-unclear line between fantasy and reality. And this time, the flashbacks of each young character's encounters with Pennywise are less scary because we know they all live into the present. Andy Muschietti just does not have a light enough touch to make this movie work.The last forty-five minutes are interminable. But I had all the same gripes with the first chapter, so personal taste is a factor. 107. Trial by Fire (Edward Zwick)- Perfect example of a true story that could use some poetic justice. I don't want to give away anything that the first line of the imdb summary doesn't already, but this ending could have been much more satisfying by changing one or two lines. This is a movie that recreates, multiple times, babies burning alive, but the ending is somehow more punishing. It's also one of those films that should have just begun at the halfway point. If we can praise special effects when they're done well, then they should be fair game when they're this embarrassing. Zwick definitely put his flash drive into the Lifetime computers for fire.exe.

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ramajmedia · 5 years

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10 Jokes From Family Guy That Have Already Aged Poorly

As other shows airing right now are changing with the times, Family Guy struggles to shake off the shackles it's worn since 1999. After all, the series was founded on shock value satire and intentionally offensive jokes, and a whole generation was raised on this humor.

Just earlier this year, the showrunners claimed they would "phase out" homophobic jokes. It remains to be seen whether or not that's true. While the show's tried to rectify past errors, it's only after accumulating twenty years worth of objectionable jokes. We can't discuss every single one, but here are ten that have aged poorly.

RELATED: Family Guy: 10 Storylines That Have Aged Poorly

10 Anything Herbert Says

Quahog is full of eccentric, recurring characters, and one of the most notable is someone who has overstayed his welcome. Not living too far from the Griffins' house is John Herbert, an elderly man Chris interacts with regularly.

What's so strange about him? Well, he's a pedophile, to put it bluntly. The show makes no qualms about addressing that either. One joke even in context—"You know, Chris, all my life, I've wanted to see you locked in a basement. But now that it's happened, all I want to do is get you out!"—will make anyone cringe.

9 Bill Cosby

Family Guy has never been too kind to Bill Cosby, even before the world learned of the comedian's history of drugging and taking women against their will was made public. And, after it became common knowledge a few years ago, Family Guy continued to go in on Cosby with no remorse.

Though, at some point, it became unclear if jokes targeting Bill Cosby were actually helping the conversation that needed to be had—sexual assault was not funny. One shocking moment was when the series reimagined the Bill Cosby Show opening. In it, Cosby drugs his costars and then some.

8 Tricia Takanawa

Race has always been a free-for-all opportunity for the show. The number of times the series was offensive about race can't even be counted on one hand much less twenty.

For example, Reporter Tricia Takanawa is a racist caricature. Not only is she voiced by Alex Borstein—an actress with a history of playing Miss Swan on MADtv—Tricia is an embodier of stereotypes about East Asian people's sexuality and culture. When Tricia interviews David Bowie, she succumbs to her carnal urges and proclaims, "I'll take you home; I'll make you fish ball soup." It gets only worse from there.

RELATED: Family Guy: 10 Funniest Running Gags, Ranked

7 The Death of Daniel Karven-Veres

The writers revel in their edgy sense of humor that often earns more gasps than genuine laughs. But at what point is the line crossed? In "Stewie Loves Lois," Stewie unleashes a brutal throwaway joke whose origin people might not be aware of.

First, some background information on why it's messy. In 2000, Ursula Karven's four-year-old son Daniel was attending musician Tommy Lee's son's pool party. Daniel then drowned, and Tommy was accused of negligence. Lee was eventually cleared of wrongdoing. When Lois is ignoring Stewie's suicide attempt, he says, "What is this, a Tommy Lee pool party?" Yikes.

6 Why Peter Only Has Two White Shirts

When Family Guy's writers land its sight on a target, they shoot to kill. Meaning they will obsess over the subject matter or person ad nauseam.

In later seasons, the show was invested in reminding viewers actor Michael J. Fox has Parkinson's disease. One joke that is more awkward now than before is from the episode "Tiegs for Two." In the cutaway, Peter explains why he only has two white shirts. It's a protracted monologue where it seems like the show is trying to feign humanity towards Fox. Then they go ahead and show the offensive clip anyway. Quelle surprise.

5 Quagmire's Abused Sister

The show was slowly shifting in the right direction with "Screams of Silence: The Story of Brenda Q." Previously, Quagmire's sister's abusive relationship was introduced as a gag to shame Brian. The sister, Brenda, later returned in season 10 for a very special episode. She was still being abused by her boyfriend Jeff, and, after she accepted his proposal, Quagmire planned on killing Jeff.

The episode almost works, but there are jokes about the victim. Even ones more or less criticizing Brenda for not leaving Jeff. The story's heart was in the right place, but the execution is still amiss.

RELATED: Family Guy: 10 Funniest Star Wars Gags, Ranked

4 Child Harm

As we learned in season 7's "The Juice Is Loose," the Griffins apparently had another son named Peter, Jr. At the aforesaid infant's grave, Peter says, "I'm sorry, Lois. I thought if I shook him enough he'd stop crying. I was kinda right."

This attempt at gallows humor is similar to Stewie's demand of "Shake me like a British nanny" in "Mind Over Murder." The latter is a direct reference to British au pair Louise Woodward, who was convicted for shaking an 8-month old to death. The only thing shocking about these jokes is anyone would laugh at them nowadays.

3 Quagmire's Predatory Habits

Something definitely isn't right with your show if there once a petition asking you to stop writing jokes about sexual assault. And, in light of the important #MeToo movement, the show said they would address Quagmire.

Well, historically, Quagmire was prone to taking women without their consent. He drugged them, and he even held a number of them captive against their will. In "Quagmire's Mom," he almost experienced the consequences of his actions after unknowingly hooking up with an underage female character. Instead, he got off without serving any time. Nevertheless, jokes revolving around Quagmire's heinous behavior simply aren't funny.

RELATED: All The Times The Simpsons Called Family Guy Out For Plagiarism/Copying

2 Antisemitism

The original seasons of Family Guy had the pleasure of skirting by without too much flack—mainly because the audience was comparatively small. That didn't stop them from getting into trouble for the season 3 episode "When You Wish Upon a Weinstein." Or rather, they could have gotten into trouble had Fox actually aired it.

The network opted to not show the episode out of fear of it being antisemitic. With lines like "I'm sorry, Lois. I just wanted our son to be Jewish so he'd be smarter," Fox's concerns were valid. Nonetheless, it was instead aired on Adult Swim.

1 Transphobia

We first met Glenn Quagmire's father Dan in the aptly titled season 8 episode "Quagmire's Dad." The audience was led to believe Dan was gay. The truth was Dan, now Ida, had come to Quahog to have sex reassignment surgery. The operation is a success, but Quagmire is having difficulty accepting Ida.

Meanwhile, Ida has a one-night stand with Brian. When Stewie informs the unaware Brian that Ida was transgender and was Quagmire's parent, Brian vomits non-stop for half a minute. By today's standards, the episode is hard to watch. The more recent "Trans-Fat" episode handled the topic better, though.

NEXT: The 10 Worst Family Guy Episodes Ever According To IMDb

source https://screenrant.com/family-guy-jokes-aged-poorly/

#screenrant

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kissofgallifrey · 7 years

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I'm slowly coming to realise this weekend has been real. It's not my first convention. Not the second, either. I've been doing this for six years. Tenth convention (funny coincidence, isn't it?). I've gone through the shock of meeting a favourite actor for the first time half a dozen times, at least. I was that girl who started crying after one of the conversations I've had with Michael. The only conversation I've never spoken about, because it's private. But it was enough to leave me crying with gratitude and emotional overwhelmingness (is that even a word?) for an hour. But this weekend was slightly different. Kinda like that conversation I never talk about. In the past couple of days I've been asked what David is like a couple of times. And I've tweeted (repeatedly) about how gorgeous he is and how kind he is and how he's always talking to everyone who come to get an autograph/a photo. I've tweeted about how energetic he is and how much he smiles to everyone and just what a sweetheart he is. And yet none of it really sunk in. Now it's beginning to. David and his characters have kept me going through so much in the past several years. Honestly. Alec and Campbell immediately spring to mind. The Doctor, too. But most of all, the man he is. The way he doesn't give up, even though he keeps thinking he's not good enough, and that he doesn't deserve what he's receiving. The way he's so alive and vibrant with energies all the time. His smiles and his kindness. His support of breaking the mental health stigma (touchy subject here). He's amazing. I've been waiting for this weekend for several years. I've been trying to write him a letter for months and months. I have two and three years old drafts all over my desk. I've been thinking about this so much, you'd have thought the experience might even be disappointing. And it so wasn't. I know a lot of people back home would have wondered if I'm sane for flying halfway across the world for three days, for one man (who lives closer to me than to this place!). But I think they can't possibly understand just what it means to me. I've spent the better part of my trips around the world in the past few years in conventions. Flying to North America for three days isn't new to me. On my scale, it's actually quite normal. And yet in a way, it's been a whole new experience. After my first photo op with David, I practically collapsed on the floor. The same thing happened after the first autographs session. He was so sweet, and so kind, and so utterly amazing. It was mind-blowing. We had a conversation. An actual conversation. And it wasn't unusual for him. I watched him signing later on, and that's just how he does it. In the photo ops, in the autograph sessions. He takes the time to speak to everyone. He laughs. He compliments. He asks questions. He listens. It doesn't matter where you are and how long the line is. He'll take the time to talk to each person as if they're the only ones in line. When he smiles at you, you know that in this second, right now, his attention is all towards you. He is honestly one of the most amazing men I've ever met. I've taken three photos with David over the weekend. I don't know if I'll have the chance to meet him again, and if I made the trip to this side of the Atlantic, I decided I'd make the most of it. Two photos were fairly regular. One wasn't. Just like the conversation I was talking about earlier, I'm not going to say what was in it. It's too private. I usually show my photos to everyone, but this one remains my own. Safe, and hidden away (not exactly like a painting). I will say one thing about this photo, though. It meant the world to me. I was so nervous about it before coming up. I knew what I wanted to do, give or take, but I was so scared of asking. I've never had the guts to ask for something during photo ops. The prospect of doing it for the first time in front of David, for something that meant so much to me, was terrifying. I wasn't sure I'd manage. And then the machine that scanned the tickets decided to stop working right when I came up. And for a few minutes, we were all just waiting. And I felt extremely awkward and self-aware, because I kinda felt like it's my fault, but every time I looked up at David and he saw me looking, he smiled at me. And I'd immediately look away and blush, and the next time he'd see me he'd smile again. Just because. When they got it working again, I walked in, still a bit nervous (even though his smiles were highly reassuring). At first he came to take a regular photo, but I explained to him what I wanted to do. And it took a bit of explaining for the concept. But he didn't mind. He listened the whole time, and brought up his own suggestions as to how we do it. And then I hugged him and he hugged me back. And he didn't even care that we had to do it again because of the glare from my glasses. He was all his smiley-vibrant-energised-sensitive self. And now that I'm writing these things, I'm slowly coming to realise just what an amazing thing this weekend has been. And I'm really crying. Because you know what? I didn't deserve this. I didn't deserve meeting this amazing man, talking to him, thanking him, hugging him. I didn't deserve any of the amazing things that happened this weekend. And I'm sure he wouldn't have agreed, and that just makes me love him even more. Because he's just such a beautiful soul, and I admire and adore him with every piece of my heart. I've spoken to him three times. I've had three photos. I've gotten four autographs. I got the photo that meant everything to me. I'm really, really lucky. And I love him to bits. ❤️

#personal #David Tennant #conventions #the convention experience #montreal comiccon #mtlcomiccon #my story

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bradleyhartsell · 5 years

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Peeking Through the Kudzu

R.E.M. – Murmur 1983 (100th of Top 100)

Ambivalence towards R.E.M. is peculiar when you’re someone with a hardwired proclivity for alternative, underground rock. Not only was my favorite band, Pavement, unabashed devotees to the Athens college rock group, but R.E.M. was big in my and roommates’ rented house for my undergrad days. One of my roommates adored R.E.M.—and still to this day, is heavily influenced by guitarist Peter Buck’s signature playing style. So, when we were making music together, even playing out a few times, the crux of many of our songs could be linked to that jangly pop they popularized.

But I never cared too much for R.E.M. For starters, even as someone who frequently cites Silver Jews’ David Berman, “All my favorite singers couldn’t sing,” I often find Michael Stipe’s voice grating, especially when the band turns anthemic and Stipe strains to accordingly soar at that register. Then, I noticed they often liked taking left turns in bridges and key changes, which, again, Pavement were experts at, but would fall flat for me with R.E.M. (admittedly, I have a strong psychoacoustic reaction to awkward key changes and unsatisfying melodic resolutions, the same way some people can’t stand hearing bags rattle, pens click, babies crying, etc.).

Moreover, R.E.M. stands as a good test case for my larger lens of New Criticism. I can appreciate the influence of an artist and the paths they blazed, but I by and large divorce context from the music itself. I rationally understand that R.E.M. is probably the most important alternative rock band ever, and I’ve endlessly been told how Buck (and The Smiths’ Johnny Marr) changed the way lead guitar sounded. I can readily admit that all the bands like Real Estate that have co-opted the Buck style of chorded arpeggios means that R.E.M. now unfairly sounds passé, even as they stand as the originators. But I’d argue that New Criticism keeps us from an inauthentic imagining and impersonating of “feeling” what was “at stake” in the ‘90s, ‘80s, ‘70s, and so on. For example, barring the unlikely event of the Beastie Boys ever even marginally clicking for me, they stand as my strongest test case. Maybe three white frat boy types interloping through 1980s hip-hop was revolutionary, but here I am in 2018 and they sound, frankly, corny. Something like “(You Gotta) Fight For Your Right (To Party)” is what soccer dads rap when they turn their hat backwards to be funny—it’s not exactly Kendrick Lamar’s “Sing About Me, I’m Dying of Thirst,” if you get what I’m saying. I can recognize Beastie Boys were doing something daring, but I can also associate their sound with sowing the seeds for Limp Bizkit and Kid Rock, you know?

I stand by much of those criticisms against R.E.M. (though far tamer than my directly linking Beastie Boys to Kid Rock). They’re not objectionable, to be sure—I just don’t find their underdog and arena rock hits all that interesting for the aforementioned reasons (Stipe’s voice, passé hooks, and my low psychoacoustic tolerance). But there is one exception for me—their 1983 debut, Murmur. Admittedly, Murmur is in contention with a host of other great, if not still flawed, albums for the bottom spots of my Top 100, which means that I can’t write about Murmur with the conviction of something I truly adore, like a Pixies album, for instance. But Murmur highlights the best the band has to offer and has enough layers to provide a still-fresh listening experience 35 years later, even after they’ve been aped a thousand times over.

Murmur is actually becoming a familiar face in my personal pantheon. I remember driving to Baltimore in 2011 and putting on Murmur being the first time I successfully connected with R.E.M. for anything more than the universally beloved hit “Losing My Religion.” But what struck me most recently about Murmur was the relatively intricate production. Murmur may be regarded as a beacon to lo-fi, DIY, and alternative, but subtle textures constantly flesh these songs out. The most conspicuous example of this is the stellar “We Walk,” which is wonderfully juxtaposed by the rollicking melody and Stipe’s wayfaring lyrics (“We walk through the woods”) that sincerely evoke a fairytale jaunt, something cute and childlike, yet serving as contrast is the odd and eerie warehouse ambiance that intermittently occurs. Throughout the album, mostly imperceptible chimes of instrumentation (even what sounds like a xylophone) pepper just a fragment of a song before being discarded, or Stipe and Mike Mills’ voices are given reverb effects and seemingly switched in and out of channels, like on closer, “West of the Fields.” If producers Don Dixon and Mitch Easter’s job were to capture something stripped down (resistant to always en vogue guitar solos and then/now en vogue synthesizers), they artfully fill Murmur with the bevy of tools the band would later overtly display as the world’s most important (and wildly popular) rock band.

If the Disney-infused “We Walk” is a terrific outlier, Murmur further benefits from diversifying with the sentimental piano ballad “Perfect Circle” and the over-caffeinated post-punk of “9-9.” “Catapult” sees early-period R.E.M. at their most anthemic (which they’d later go on to make something of a staple; see “Shiny Happy People”), while “Talk About the Passion” is tinged with a Southern-style picking influence befitting of their Georgia roots. Then, there’s the jangly pop and cryptic, laconic Stipe bedrock of Murmur that, despite my aforementioned criticisms, is done really well and stands up all these years later. “Shaking Through” is rhythmic and jangly in its cascading melody, but the catharsis in the chorus feels earned in this standout. The best song, though, “Laughing,” is needed to tip Murmur from a strong collection of moments and oddly satisfying hooks into something rather essential. Mills’ melodic bass—another foundational piece of the band’s sound—is stout, anchoring Buck’s trickling acoustic arpeggios. All of these components find each other, thrusting a sort of punctuation at the end of each verse. Then, the too-brief bridge strips back the filler and adds twinkles of piano (another producer’s flourish), before jogging back into the chorus. Stipe is wonderfully reserved on “Laughing,” with Mills’ backup providing the breathy and emotive tones to what is ultimately a quaint and sweet song that’s both charming and addicting to sing along with (even if Stipe’s lyrics here are as especially difficult to understand as most songwriters can muster).

“Laughing” may be the most defining example of R.E.M. at their best—the compelling juxtaposition of pop accessibility oozing out of Buck and Mills’ fingers with Stipe’s enigmatic reticence. Hence, there seems to be a positive correlation between the standout debut being the most guarded Stipe. No, Murmur isn’t perfect—there’s a waning middle section of the album, as “Talk About the Passion” spins its wheels with the eponymous recantation; “Moral Kiosk” is more an avatar to Stipe’s confounding lyrics (many wonder “what is a moral kiosk?”) than it is rewarding of multiple listens; and “Catapult” keeps urging on a oddly-inflecting Stipe and too-saccharine Mills as they shout the title over and over. But ultimately, it’s largely refreshing and rewarding to return to an album that feels clean, brisk, and propulsive, yet circumspect and layered. Murmur isn’t referential like a Coen brothers movie, but it’s similarly slight at first glance, yet rife with subtext.

It always feels like work unpacking Murmur, right down to what the kudzu is concealing on the album cover. To a categorical, problem-solving mind, that’s frustrating, especially when these 30+-year-old three-and-a-half minute jangle pop tunes feels so at the surface. But I’m equally craven to the incongruent beauty inherent in art, so it’s no wonder I keep returning to a puzzle I can never quite solve.

#REM #murmur #Stephen Malkmus #pavement #Kendrick Lamar #Michael stipe #mike mills #Peter buck #the smiths #Johnny marr #Coen brothers #beastie boys #kid rock #limp bizkit #real estate #pixies #silver jews #David berman

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theconservativebrief · 6 years

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The second half of 2018’s fall TV premiere week brings with it a slew of comedies, new and old, as the afterlife dwellers of NBC’s The Good Place move on to a new location and scene stealer Lil Rel Howery finally gets his own sitcom with Fox’s Rel (which technically debuted a few weeks ago but moves to its regular time slot this week).

But the week’s biggest “new” series is Murphy Brown, the 1988 stalwart that has returned for its first season since 1998, with most of the original cast in tow. (It’s the 11th season of Murphy Brown overall.) Does Candice Bergen still have it? Do you even have to ask that question? (You saw Book Club, right? Good movie!)

Oh, and there’s also a show where God friends somebody on Facebook, and it’s nowhere near as bad as that sounds. Promise!

Few of these shows are great, and as critics, we often have limited information on whether they’ll get better. (It’s rare to impossible for broadcast networks, especially, to send out many episodes for review beyond the first couple.) But there’s something in all of these shows worth checking out, especially if you’re a particular fan of their genres.

(A note: We’ve only given ratings to shows where we feel we’ve seen enough episodes to judge how successful they will be long-term, which for right now is just Murphy Brown and The Good Place. In the case of both shows, we’ve seen new unaired episodes in addition to prior seasons.)

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Good news: The Good Place is back.

The NBC comedy is one of the best shows currently airing. It’s smart, it’s touching, it’s funny, it’s well-acted — and even in its third season, it’s firing on all cylinders.

Season three picks up where season two ended, with our heroes sent back to Earth to test out Michael’s (Ted Danson) theory that, given the opportunity, they would change their lives enough to make it into the Good Place.

Of course, saving the souls of everyone’s favorite humans — self-professed “trash bag” Eleanor (Kristen Bell), mortally indecisive Chidi (William Jackson Harper), navel-gazing socialite Tahani (Jameela Jamil), and Jacksonville, Florida’s very own Jason (Manny Jacinto) — isn’t quite that easy. But it wouldn’t be The Good Place if it was.

From the start, showrunner Mike Schur has been perfecting the art of subverting expectations and throwing curveballs into the story at a rate that would cripple pretty much any other show. The new season doesn’t let up in that regard, as its twists and turns pull off a three-season hat trick.

That it works comes down to the fact that nothing on The Good Place is done for shock value; at the risk of sounding preachy, it’s all in service of a larger arc, as well as a reminder — whether you believe in the existence of a Good Place or not — to be good, even when it seems impossible. —Karen Han

The Good Place debuts Thursday at 8 pm Eastern on NBC. Don’t miss it, ya dink!

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The first three episodes of the new season of Murphy Brown, which reunites liberal lion news anchor Murphy and most of her pals at a cable news morning show, aren’t very good. The jokes are mostly easy potshots at Donald Trump (would you believe that Murphy calls him “orange” in the first episode?!), and the live studio audience is so over-mic’ed that every little utterance they make sounds like wild laughter and applause.

In the 2018 revival, Murphy and her friends are hosting a sort of Fox & Friends for the type of left-leaning folks who watch Murphy Brown. And putting Murphy in the hollow confines of a morning show could be fun! But the new Murphy Brown doesn’t even try to explore these contradictions, or the sheer anachronism of the show’s existence in this era.

It instead exists in a world in which support for Trump is inexplicable and if the press just found the right words to speak, it might make him disappear; this is a show that takes every opportunity to harangue America, Republicans, and the press for not having the calm, collected wisdom of Murphy Brown.

And yet there’s something here. For as sitcom-silly as it is for Murphy to be dragged into a tweet war with the president in the season premiere, the heroine of this revival serves as a specific panacea to people old enough to remember Murphy Brown, peddling a kind of sitting-on-your-couch activism designed not to effect change but, instead, to make you feel less alone in these scary times.

And every so often, there’s a flash of the old show’s panache, or a line reading that Bergen knocks dead, or a flicker of terror at how bad things have gotten and how bad they could still get, and the show comes to life, for a moment at least. It’s not good, but it’s comforting. —Todd VanDerWerff

Murphy Brown season 11 debuts Thursday at 9:30 pm Eastern on CBS, with a special 35-minute episode. For much more on Murphy old and new, read our comprehensive explainer.

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On paper, the premise of God Friended Me sounds so very, very stupid. Miles, an atheist played by the effortlessly charming Brandon Micheal Hall, hosts a podcast where he dunks on believers. And then one day, he receives a Facebook friend request from “God.” He accepts the friend request, and God suggests other friends, who turn out to be part of a massive puzzle that could only be assembled by someone omniscient.

Does Miles start believing in God as a result? Nah. To God Friended Me’s credit, the show lets Miles think that what’s happening to him involves either the actual God … or such a sophisticated artificial intelligence that it seems like God but is, instead, just really good at predicting what people are going to do. (Shades of the late, lamented Person of Interest!)

Miles spends a lot of the pilot trying to figure out who “God” is, like he’s not in a TV show where it will take him 100 episodes or more to solve the mystery (and where he will almost certainly learn that “God” is actually God or, like, a conglomerate of psychic rabbis). But somehow, God Friended Me has a good shot at wearing down your (very reasonable) defenses.

Hall earns my earlier descriptor of “effortlessly charming,” bearing even more of the load than he did on ABC’s one-season-and-done comedy The Mayor. And the series has surrounded him with equally likable supporting players, including Violett Beane as a journalist who joins his cause, and Joe Morton as his — dramatic irony!!! — minister father?!

If God Friended Me were at all cynical about its premise, it would be unbearable. Instead, it’s earnest and cheesy and a little stupid, which turns out to be the right approach. When the puzzle pieces snap into place, it works, the viewer’s cynicism be damned, because it’s silly in the way that a golden retriever licking your face is silly — you eventually just kind of give in and laugh about it. —TV

God Friended Me debuts Sunday, September 30, at 8:30 pm Eastern on CBS. If you grew up in the Protestant Church, try singing the title to the tune of “Love Lifted Me.” You will never be able to stop. You’re welcome.

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The mileage you get out of Rel will likely depend on how much you like its namesake, Lil Rel Howery. On the bright side, objectively speaking, Howery has charm to spare, and after supporting turns in Get Out and Insecure, it’s nice to see him as a leading man. Rel’s creators, Josh Rabinowitz and Kevin Barnett (The Carmichael Show), also seem to be keenly aware of their star’s strengths, as the show’s pilot opens with a monologue that depends entirely on how well Howery can sell a scene where he’s essentially talking to himself.

That said, Howery is stuck doing most of the heavy lifting. Rel is based on Howery’s own life — his character is named Lil Rel and, like Howery, is divorced with two children and from the West Side of Chicago — but the specifics and depths that such a correlation ought to provide aren’t quite there. At least, not in the pilot.

Though Rel occasionally plays a little too hard into its multi-camera comedy format (audience laughs are a difficult thing to master; if a show relies on them too much, they become annoying rather than helpful), there’s clearly potential for growth. The natural rapport between Howery and the rest of the cast, including Jessica Moore as Lil Rel’s longtime friend, Jordan L. Jones as his brother, and Sinbad as his father, is great, even if they’re aiming wider with their jokes than Howery, who seems to have something a little more substantive in mind as far as the long game is concerned.

Which is all to say, if you’re a fan of Howery’s work, Rel is worth tuning in to. The series has the potential to become something special — just a little further into the season. —KH

REL airs Sundays at 9:30 pm Eastern on Fox.

Last Man Standing (Friday, 8 pm) returns after a year off the air, with some cast changes and a new network — it used to be on ABC; now it’s on Fox. Tim Allen is still front and center, though. We’ll post more comprehensive thoughts soon, but if you liked Last Man Standing in its first go-round, you will probably like its return episodes.

Last Man Standing’s Fox debut is followed by The Cool Kids (Friday, 8:30 pm), which gathers a lot of great actors (David Alan Grier! Martin Mull! Vicki Lawrence! Leslie Jordan!) only to strand them in a bland story about retirement home shenanigans. With a cast this good and a co-creator like It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia’s Charlie Day, there’s a world in which The Cool Kids evolves rapidly into something truly funny. It’s probably just not this world.

Also, NBC’s Saturday Night Live (Saturday, 11:30 pm Eastern/8:30 pm Pacific) is back this weekend and live coast to coast. Obviously, we haven’t seen it, but the series’ season premieres are often among the best episodes of the season. This one is hosted by Adam Driver with musical guest Kanye West. Keep an eye out for the debut of new cast member Ego Nwodim.

Original Source -> 4 TV shows to check out, from The Good Place to Lil Rel Howery’s new show

via The Conservative Brief

#IFTTT #The Conservative Brief

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rojpoj-diary · 7 years

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Blog Entry #15

4/13/17

Hello, today was amazing, it was one of the best days I have had this year. Since we have no school tomorrow today is the last day then we have Spring Break! WOOHOO! So anyway the school day was ok, as we were finishing the decor for the Rally and the MORP dance, we were tying three balloons together to put on a balloon arch, well I tried anyway. I got the first two tied, but shortly after it either almost immediately became undone or it became undone when I tried tying the 3rd one. And need I remind you I made around 5 attempts before I gave up, those balloons hate me or something. I tried them right, the crisss-cross then the tie, it is so basic but fuck me right. Anyway at the end of 5th period Neko was doing a cheap Russian accent and I told Maddie so I walking up to him and explained to him how Russians pronounce the W like a V and that your tongue should be more flat as that is how slavic speakers talk apposed to the romance language speakers who’s tongues are more upward. He tried getting me to do an accent and I said Slavic with a Russian accent and he loved it, as Maddie, David and him her walking out of class together he told them how I schooled him on pronunciation and jokingly said he should take classes from me, lol. So after school I head towards the Rally as it was today and a surprising amount of people came and loved it. Cool enough Amanda was coincidentally sitting behind me. The rally was great, I had no idea the Mr. Bassy knew how to play the drums and so well I might add, him and Molly played them so well. Molly is becoming really well known in Solano and is getting a lot of support, I am so proud of her. Afterwards I walked to Mr. Riley’s room for no real reason, Cesi came in to get his keys to get into the little threater to get her keys and told me the set up for MORP was at 5:30pm so as I leave the front door I and walk told the walk area, I turn around and Amanda is there and we talk about the MORP dance being at 7pm and how I needed to be there at what Cesi said was 5:30 but come to find out was officially 6pm. She offered me a ride and I was debating with her on how I could get a white shirt for the color run where we throw powdered paint at the runners on a path. During this conversation, I noticed Sophia was walking behind Amanda by several feet and i asked why she was at school and she said she was looking for someone and I totally should have used that chance to give her a hug but it did not cross my mind like usual. Sarah comes over soon after and we just talk about random stuff like medication for horses and make up, like my cover up I use for my acne. She leaves after getting picked up as she was waiting for a ride. So then I proceed to call my mother to see if she had the car so I could go to the store to buy a shirt but she didn’t and said she would look for a shirt. But I took Amanda up on her kind offer to go to Michael’s to buy a white shirt. Her car was messy but so are most people’s cars. So anyway we get there and look at the large white shirts as the last time I bought a blue there in medium size it barely fit but the large white looked too big, but the medium surprisingly looked like it would fit. So as we are in line I offer to buy her candy as she was looking at them but she declined the offer, and soon after she notices Lawson and Stephen walking down to the shirts so I told her to so turn around so they don’t notice us as my plan was to buy the shirt and sneak up on them but we weren’t fast enough and they got in line and noticed us so we walking over to them and Lawson was holding a black shirt and a white shirt which I wondered why but did not get a clear answer besides for the dance. Stephen asked if I am going to his and Beth’s party tonight but I decline as I am not a party person, I wouldn’t know most people there, and the fact my home is a police state and my parents would never let me go to a party let alone one late at night. So we leave and she drops me off but before I get out of the car I give her a thank you hug and then go inside my home. Mother and my older sister Nina had apparently found a white shirt actually and mother got a bit upset that I bought one but to be honest I bought it because I did not think they’d actually find one, besides the new one was better. So after listening to some music I take a nice warm shower to get clean for the dance. I worse my green converse, the new white shirt and my black jogging pants. Mother put some cover up on my face for my acne. Father dropped me off at 5:29pm so I was very early. I said Hi to Maddie as she was with her orchestra friends. I knock on MS. Sullivan’s door to see what the official time was as my text to Melissa was not replied to. She said it was officially at 6pm and that I could hang out in her room but I declined the offer and said I wanted to walk around. After walking around for a couple of minutes I return to the quad only to meet up with Cassidy, Biane, and some new girl who’s name escapes me. They had Starbucks and Cass was sad as she said she should have gotten something for me but I said it was fine. I did appreciate the thought though. SO we start getting to work by going to the gym and seeing what’s what, then we go the little theater to look for the posters, we looked int he back stage and we couldn’t fine the light for like 5 minutes until Cass found it down the starts leading to the music room. I am not used to being in the back stage so it was new to me, what we thought were old posters from the MR. GQ event they we thought we could use, turned out to be for something else that escapes me, so we look for the posters on the other side. There is this little stairway down that leads to this little storage space but it also has an elevator for wheelchairs, what was funny was that Biane didn’t see the handle for the space so Ms. Sullivan jumped the gate only for it to open on her, we all laughed hard because she thought it was locked for some reason. I soon after came up with the idea to check the Student Counsel Storage room which Ms. Sullivan gave me credit for for having such a great idea, anyway we find the posters and the boxes painted as Rubik’s cubes and stereos in there. I grabbed all the “stereos” but they were too tall stacked up for the door so Cass helps me when her and the new girl walk in and see me struggling and the new girl grabbed the big Rubik’s Cube and we all walked over to the gym. And the a bunch of Link Crew people arrive to help out. Lauren also does too and we all start putting up posters. Lauren, Cassidy and a few others hang out the Mr. Riley’s room for a bit so Lauren could do her make-up and we talked about how I have never been to Dutch Bros or Chick Fil A, and everyone one is surprised. So Lauren starts talking about how her and Cass should bring me to to those places some time. Including the other small chatter it was fun, then we get back to the gym to do posters and I mention how my dad gets me clothes from the dumpster sometimes because he likes dumpster diving and from his work randomly and she was shocked and hilariously said he should see a doctor. She also comically asked if I wanted to move in with her lol. She kept saying how she would teach me how to yike when the dance started and I was my usual uncomfortable self about such odd activity, she also intentionally made me feel uncomfortable to be funny but acting like she was going to yike on me, she said it was easy to do, which is true. So then we go back to the room so that I could get tape for the posters but there isn’t any more so I give up and when we get so Lauren could get her hair curled, which Cesi did, and I said how I couldn’t do it because I didn’t want to burn her as I have never had practice and would need someone who who tolerate burns without slapping me or a wig bust to learn how. Lauren asked if I wanted to be one of those hair people but I said no, I just wanted to learn how as it’s a nice skill and that my mother also said it would be a good idea as girls like a guy who can do hair. She then asked out of no where if I was ever going to tell my parents that i liked girls and I said that my mother may be accepting but the rest of my family wouldn’t be. Cesi said I should tell my mother. I told them how I have to bottle in how I feel and how it’s slowly killing me on the inside emotionally. They were very supportive and how it must feel terrible. Lauren said if she was a lesbian that her parent’s would eventually accept her. Sarah came in and Lauren told her the fact that I liked guys. Link crew peoples were fine to tell, plus I trusted Lauren to tell the right people even though I was so nervous that she was telling others about it but she was speaking softly and I forget her justification. But anyway it made me feel so great and motivated me to act more myself and be more confident about liking guys. Lauren again offers for me to live with her which I just found so sweet. Cesi is such a cool person by the way, the room isn’t the same without her. So after her hair was done, we all compliment Lauren’s now wavy hair. And then we start getting work on stuff, I and two other girls make new posters for the ticket sales because the last poster was messed up, then we got the paint powder out and threw it on eachother. I was just caked in it but I loved it, my whole body was covered. So when the color run happened everyone switched between different colors to throw and it was so much fun. I started out helping Cesi with the blue but then switched to other colors independently. The runners loved it and it lasted until 8pm, so about half an hour. Then the dance started but it took a while for most people to show up. Selena had to use the restroom so I took over the scanner but did not know how to use it so I did wrist bands while Sarah did the scanner with Lawson watching. Selena and the others never came back. I called Amanda as to know when she was showing up and she said she just left her home. When she called me I was too busy putting bands on people’s wrists to answer it but it was fine as she just went in and waiting for me with her friend. I then had Lawson cover for me so I could go in. Now I never did dance but with one of the songs Amanda kept making me crouch when the song said to go low. I don’t know how to dance and so it frustrated me that she kept saying go with the flow but there is no flow to follow as my arms and ass are too shy to express themselves. So i sort of give stood there while being touched and pushed by a bunch of people who were dancing and walking past. I felt so uncomfortable yet happy that I was at least hanging out with Amanda. I kept leaving to get water or fresh air as it was humid in there and hot. After a few times of leaving I start feeling incredibly sad that I can’t dance I felt like an idiot for doing nothing. Lauren wasn’t there to teach me anything and Amanda didn’t show me anything so I spent a few minutes in the bathroom crying at the fact I am trying to act normal and was failing. So i get out and get some fresh air before going back in, and after hanging out with Amanda for a couple of minutes I go to get some water and Selena grabs my hips like she was yiking on me and I panic and turn around quickly only to hit my head on the rim of the metal. And so i leave and I tell Mr. Riley how it essentially smells like B.O. and bad choices, which he relayed to Kalvin and Ms. Sullivan who also found it funny and said it was so true. I and still remember how loud Mr. Riley laughed, it was funny. Anyway as it was reaching the end of the dance my mother and sister call me to see when the party ends and tell them 10:30pm and that there is also clean up, to which they essentially did not understand between each other. My mother as going to call Alex to pick me up since father was going to bed. And at this time, Mattie left because he didn’t like a lot of dancing and so Lauren looked a bit sad, and I tried to cheer her up but it didn’t work. Anyway when she heard about my dilemma, she offered to drive me home since she couldn’t that one time it was almost raining but she was late for work so she couldn’t give me a ride but luckily for me it didn’t rain on me. It made me very happy. So then I call my mother to tell her the news and she said it was fine. So then we all started to clean up. I also called Amanda to tell her I was sorry that i left at the last several minutes because Ms. Sullivan asked me if I could check to see if the dumpsters were open which they were and then we told each other good night. Soon after Cassidy, LJ, and I move a table to the little theater and Lauren asks me if I am going to the Prom to which said yes and she gets all excited and I tell her I am going with Maria and Amanda. I also told her that my sister was going to help me rent a tux and she says “aw” and goes all goo goo about thinking of me in a tux going to prom with two girls. It was funny ad made me happy. So after we were dismissed Lauren and I head to her truck while Cassidy went to her car so she could follow Lauren so after I was dropped off they could get some food. I wish I could have gone along, I have $20 in my wallet but my parents wouldn’t have let me out later than that dance. So anyway I tell her the usual directions, straight down the road, lake a left at the fork then turn left at the 7/11 and it’s the apartment complex with the cross on it next to the big ass tree. She drove into the driveway of the next apartment complex by accident but it was fine because that one was a path that went around easily, vs having to turn around in the small parking lot of my complex. Anyway since the fence is basically missing I just walked over after saying thanks and good night. In hindsight I should have given her a hug but I was too happy about what transpired today. I’ll give her one next time I see her. So anyway I get inside my home and take a shower and stuff then I text her thanking her for the ride, and now I’m off to bed early on a free night, because my legs are damn sore and my lower back hurts like fucking hell. So good night, great story wasn’t it? Lol, see ya. I’ll leave you with a picture of the dance.

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aion-rsa · 5 years

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Who is She-Hulk? A Guide to Marvel's Next TV Star

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Avengers: Endgame gave us a Hulk in the laboratory. Now Disney+ will be giving us a She-Hulk in the courtroom.

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One of the better parts of Avengers: Endgame was the fact that Professor Hulk was a viable character, able to exist in normal scenes without sticking out like a sore thumb. Once they had that tech figured out, it was only a matter of time before She-Hulk became part of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. And now, here we are, with the announcement of She-Hulk getting her own Disney+ show!

She-Hulk is high on the list of “top Marvel characters to not yet show up in the MCU,” especially now that both the X-Men and Fantastic Four are inevitable arrivals. Since her introduction in 1980, she’s been a major fixture in Marvel and a fresh enough take on an existing property that she rarely feels redundant when standing next to her brutish cousin.

So who is She-Hulk? Let’s take a look ...

THE ORIGINAL SERIES

The funny thing about She-Hulk’s creation was that she was made for the sake of legal strategy. The Lou Ferrigno Incredible Hulk TV show was a massive hit and Marvel came to a dire realization. Since it was an easy trope to give a popular male character a female counterpart (ie. the Bionic Woman), there was strong potential that the TV show would introduce a female version of the Hulk. But if that happened then the character would belong to the TV show! It’s like why Skeeter from Muppet Babies never shows up in actual Muppets stuff.

So Stan Lee went, “John Buscema! Get over here! We’re making a She-Hulk comic!” Then he let David Anthony Kraft and Mike Vosburg take care of the rest of the 25-issue run.

Funny enough, with Savage She-Hulk #1 existing to counter the TV show, the very first narration box even calls attention to the show via making a joke about whether Banner’s first name is David or Bruce.

read more - Eternals: Who is Marvel's Black Knight?

Jennifer Walters starts out as a mild-mannered lawyer until the day her cousin Bruce Banner shows up because he needs someone to confide in about his whole Hulk situation. They’re hanging out for a good 10 minutes before a criminal involved in one of Jen’s cases shows up and shoots her. In order to save Jen, Bruce MacGyvers together a blood transfusion and then splits. Jen soon discovers that she can transform into a giant, jacked, green woman, and so we have She-Hulk.

It’s your usual Bronze Age fare after that. She does double-life hero stuff because She-Hulk gets blamed for tragedies. The supporting cast is boring. The villains are forgettable (outside of a half-man/half-elephant).

Somewhere, it’s established that Hulk isn’t a rage monster simply because of the gamma radiation, but because Banner spent so much of his life holding down his anger. She-Hulk plays on that by showing that instead of being driven by fury, her second form is based on Jen’s lack of confidence. She-Hulk is strong in all the ways Jen Walters could never bring herself to be.

THE FANTASTIC HULK

With her series done, She-Hulk went on to become a member of the Avengers. She remained a regular part of the team up until Brian Michael Bendis’ mid-00s reinvention of the team. What’s interesting is that she was actually part of two major teams at the same time for a period.