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missmis · 3 years

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I’ve been having a lot of heated debates recently over which actors are the best in certain roles, so I thought long and hard about my ideal Les Mis cast.

For some roles, I have several actors (mainly Enjolras, because every guy who’s ever played him seems to be gorgeous). For some roles, there is only one person who just IS that character to me.

Now without further ado, here we go:

Jean Valjean: Alfie Boe, always. He perfectly conveys Valjean’s transition from angry convict to noble and almost saintly, plus his voice still gives me chills every time. I could write an entire post exclusively on the sheer perfection of his high note at the end of “Bring Him Home”, but that is a subject for another day. Honourable mention: John Owen-Jones because his voice is incredible, too-but he overdoes it on the anger sometimes.

Javert: ooh, that’s a tough one. I’d say it’s probably a tie between Earl Carpenter (who has the warmest and most powerful baritone ever) and Norm Lewis, who does the cold-hearted arrogance perfectly. Honourable mention: Richard Woodford, who used to be Grantaire and Javert’s understudy ages ago. Most people probably won’t know him, but he is honestly amazing- and a lovely guy.

Fantine: Carrie Hope Fletcher. Her voice can be powerful or soft as needed and she really captures Fantine’s pain. Honourable mention: Lea Salonga, whose voice is also gorgeous, but whose acting I find a little exaggerated sometimes.

Éponine: Samantha Barks will always be the one true Éponine for me. Her voice is incredible, she looks right (because in my head, Éponine is always dark-haired) and she portrays the whole unrequited love thing to perfection. And yes, I may possibly have a tiny crush on her... Or a big one.

Cosette: Honestly, Cosette always annoyed the heck out of me until I discovered Lily Kerhoas. She’s completely lovestruck-as the character should be- but she manages to turn Cosette into an actual person and not just a one-dimensional teenager who was put in to make all the guys look better. And that is honestly a huge accomplishment. Honourable mention: Amanda Seyfried, although her incredibly high soprano is a bit too much for my ears.

Marius: I loved Eddie Redmayne’s portrayal in the film version. His general adorable shyness steals my heart every time. I also love Rob Houchen, who has a gorgeous voice and who captures the innocence of the character. And Gareth Gates does hands down the best version of “A Little Fall of Rain” I’ve ever seen, because he actually seems to care that Éponine just died, unlike many other actors who’ve played this role.

Enjolras: As I said, there are so many amazing people who have played him. But if I had to choose one, it’d probably be Bradley Jaden (and no, I’m not just saying that because his man bun is a blessing to this fandom). I love his passion and the sheer power he brings to the character. Aaron Tveit is also up there with my favourites-he may not be the greatest singer, but he looks exactly like Book Enjolras and he gets that coldness and indifference-especially towards poor Grantaire- just right. Then there’s Killian Donnelly whose Irish accent I absolutely adore. Oh and lastly, Ramin Karimloo, of course-he may not look like your classical Enjolras, but the light of rebellion is ablaze in his eyes :)

Monsieur Thénardier: the one and only, the inimitable Matt Lucas. He is simply hilarious, which is actually kind of an ethical issue, because he almost makes me like Monsieur T. And every time someone says “Cosette”, I now hear “Courgette” in my head, which is entirely his fault.

Madame Thénardier: Katy Secombe. She’s mean, she’s funny, she’s brash, her facial expressions are everything and her voice can knock you off your feet. Especially great in combination with Matt Lucas. Honestly, I’d pay to see these two do stand-up comedy together.

Gavroche: Also a tough one. My favourite is probably Daniel Huttlestone in the film, just because he’s so adorable I want to adopt him. I also love Robert Madge’s mischievous and cocky Gavroche in the 25th and recently, Logan Clark, whose antics give me life.

Grantaire: He’s my favourite character, so I’m kind of picky about who plays him. Only two guys have found mercy before my eyes. One: George Blagden, whose pining for Enjolras was the only thing that kept me watching the film. I will never stop being pissed that they cut his solo in “Drink With Me”. Two: Keith Anthony Higham. He has the richest voice ever and he just gets Grantaire-the cynicism, the drama and the unrequited love thing. If you haven’t already, watch his 2008 version of “Drink With Me” with David Thaxton. Thank me later.

Courfeyrac: Fra Fee- I love his passion and his friendship with Gavroche in the film. Plus, he has a beautiful voice. Also the guy from the 2019 staged concert- I believe his name is Michael Sheehy, but I could be wrong. He is honestly hilarious.

Combeferre: Killian Donnelly. He gets the whole slightly-exasperated-by-all-of-these-irresponsible-idiots professorial vibe. And he has a very powerful voice.

Feuilly: Matthew Gent because of his lovely soft singing and his funny-as-hell facial expressions.

Joly: Jamie Muscato, who is just such an adorable goofball.

Bossuet/Lesgles/Laigle/the dude with a hundred different names: I don’t know the guy’s name, but he’s in the 25th. Firstly, because he’s actually bald and thus, about ten times more accurate than most other portrayals and secondly, because his voice is warm and soft and it’s actually a shame he hasn’t got more lines to sing.

Bahorel: Again, the dude from the movie- Iwan Lewis, I think he’s called. Just the right amount of recklessness.

Jehan Prouvaire: I haven’t really found anyone I like in this role yet. I’m not that big a fan of Alistair Brammer for some reason, so if someone could help me out here, I’d be grateful.

The Bishop: Also Earl Carpenter, because his voice is-for lack of a better description-like a nice, warm blanket. And I like Colm Wilkinson in this role, too.

I hope I haven’t missed any characters. If I have, please do point them out to me. I hope you’ve enjoyed my analysis- I tried to make it about more than just “Oh, I like this person because they’re hot”. Feel free to share your own opinions and remember: these are just my subjective ones.

#les mis #les miz #les misérables #les amis #jean valjean #fantine les mis #éponine #marius pontmercy #javert

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fanfictionaries · 4 years

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A Fine Line Between Lust and Hate - jbbuckybarnes Birthday Challenge

Thank you to @jbbuckybarnes for this fun writing challenge! Congratulations on over 900 followers and also happy 21st birthday! It’s a fun age, enjoy it!

Prompt 1: Bookstore AU

Prompt 2: “Just gimme the book and fuck off!”

Pairing: AU Bookstore!Bucky Barnes X female reader

Summary: If there was one person you hated more than anyone else in the world it was James Buchanan “Call Me Bucky” Barnes. Or at least, you thought you did. As Bucky continues to press your patience, it becomes unclear as to whether it’s hate you feel, or lust.

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: Swearing, smut, doggy style, oral (male receiving), NSFW/18+ only

Author’s Note: Man, I do love a good rousing debate over literature.

***

You stood in one of the long aisles as you worked on putting the store’s most recent influx of donations on the shelves. The endless rows of historical memories stretched high above your head and all around you. However, the large stack in front of you currently sat untouched, a copy of Ernst Jünger’s Storm of Steel held tightly in your grasp, as you watched the events occurring at the front desk. Your coworker, James, was leant casually against the counter, once again ignoring his work duties as he openly and obnoxiously flirted with the woman in front of him.

God, you hated him. You hated his stupid long hair that he pulled up into a stupid bun. You hated his stupid tight jeans that hugged his thick thighs and his stupid red Henley that accentuated his muscular shoulders and arms. You hated his stupid handsome face that only fueled his overall cocky attitude. God, you absolutely hated James Buchanan ‘Call Me Bucky’ Barnes.

You hadn’t set out to hate him of course. Quite the opposite in fact. When your boss informed you of a new employee who wasn’t a billion-year-old woman, you had been ecstatic. Not to say you didn’t love Lucille, but to finally meet a person close to your age that loved books so much they were willing to work at the musty, expansive bookstore was a dream come true. For years now, you’d found yourself spending more time alone, tucked into the rows of books than you did with anyone your own age. You’d think that the kitschy bookstore would be a draw to the younger individuals in town, with the rise of intellectualism or at least the guise of intellectualism within today’s youth. Not to mention, the fact that it was nestled in between the cutest antique store and 50’s style diner. But, alas, it didn’t seem to be on trend for your town. Instead, you got the odd stragglers of older individuals who still enjoyed reading physical books, and local community college students looking to either sell or buy books for classes. That’s why the idea of coming into work every day to a coworker you could relate to was beyond wonderful. However, it hadn’t taken long for James to get so far under your skin, you practically wore him like a pair of itchy long johns.

It had started with his complete disregard for the books and their safety. As a self-proclaimed bibliophile, you took great pride in the care and safety of the books in the store. They were a mix of new and used, the older ones coming into your protective arms the moment you clocked the torn corners and dog-eared pages. You spent hours restoring them before putting them out to be appreciated by the next reader. That’s why, on his third day there when you’d spotted him using his copy of Catcher in the Rye as a coaster for his iced coffee, you’d nearly had an aneurysm. You wished that the situation was a one-time thing, but every time you turned a corner, he was bending spines, creasing pages, WRITING in the margins. He was a book sadist.

Then of course, there was the lackadaisical way in which he approached his job. Not once, not twice, but ten times in the last three months you had stayed late finishing work that had been assigned to him. Why did you do it, instead of letting him take the fall for shoddy work? Well, because it was always things that needed to be done either before the shop could close or before the shop could open. Closing out the till, turning off all the lights, locking the back door, fixing the displays, picking up the giant stack of books that had fallen near the back, changing a burnt-out light using the very old and very rickety ladder.

And lastly, the one thing you absolutely hated the most about him was just how incredibly flirty he was! From the very beginning, he took every opportunity to hit on you. At first it had been flattering, but incredibly jarring and confusing. What could he possibly want with you? He looked like that and you looked like, well people didn’t really want to date the weird bookstore girl that always smelled faintly of old books. Then, it had all come into focus. James flirted with everyone. Not just you. Everyone. The moment a woman under the age of forty walked through those front doors, James was there with his stupid charming ways; “Can I help you with anything today?” “What’s a beautiful woman like you doing in here today?” “I knew a woman of your caliber would have good taste in books.” All the while, he’d chance little glances your way, smirking at you and raising his eyebrows slightly. It was all a game to him. Prick.

“Now, see, that is a fantastic choice. I knew the moment you walked in you had good taste,” stated James pointing down at the copy of The God of Small Things that was currently clutched to the woman’s chest in her perfectly manicured hands. You rolled your eyes. Ridiculous. You glanced over again to see James smirking in your direction before he walked the woman to the front door and waved her goodbye, shutting and locking the door behind her. Last customer of the day. You sighed, turning back to the stacks in front of you and swiftly putting the books back into place. The quicker you got this done, the quicker you would be out of there and away from James’ mocking face and overall itchy personality. You continued to put the books away, probably harsher than you should have, as you listened to the faint sounds of James closing out the till. Well, at least he was doing that today. I knew the moment you walked in you had good taste, you mocked him in your head, huffing and puffing at just how infuriating he was. You winced at a particularly harsh shove of a book into the shelve. Quickly, you pulled it out and inspect the corners and sides of the hard cover.

“Careful there—” a pair of large hands came into your line of site, snatching the book from your hands “—What did Michael Herr ever do to you?”

“Nothing,” you huffed, turning to grab the book back, but coming up unsuccessful. “Although, I really would prefer it if you didn’t allow customers to stay so late past closing.”

“Why? Got somewhere to be? Hot date?” James asked, circling around you to lean against the bookshelves to your right.

You snorted, “As if that’s any of your business.”

“Come on. Lighten up a little bit (Y/N). She needed help finding a good book for her English class,” said James, pulling the book out of reach as you attempted to grab it back from him once again.

“Okay,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes and reaching back down to the stack of books remaining on the cart to your left.

“What? You got something against Indian authors writing about caste relations and cultural tensions?”

“No, but I think if Roy tried to squeeze one more literary device into the text, the book would literally explode. Nobody genuinely enjoys a work where the author is intentionally trying to be clever. It’s obnoxious,” you said as you continued to put the books into their correct spaces as quickly as possible.

“Oh, so I guess you don’t care for Shakespeare then? What about Vonnegut, Anne Rice, Tolkien? Every author thinks they’re clever (Y/N). If they didn’t, they wouldn’t be writers,” said James, crossing his arms and leaning towards you condescendingly.

“That’s-that’s just ridiculous,” you responded lamely, placing the last book in your pile away.

“Oh really? Then please, oh smart one, name a single author who didn’t take themselves so seriously that it didn’t bleed through their work in some way,” James challenged, once again pulling the book in his hands away from your reaching hands.

You stood there, glowering at the man in front of you as you tried to come up with some king of answer. “C. S. Lewis,” you blurted out, wanting to kick yourself at the obviously stupid answer.

A barking laugh left James, “Oh come on. The man spent most of his career preaching Christian values and what it means to be moral. He even went so far as to write a short story on what the afterlife looks like and how to get into heaven. Or are we just going to pretend like The Great Divorce didn’t happen? Just because he wrote a bunch of entertaining children’s stories bathed in Christian symbolism with little effort does not mean that he didn’t take himself seriously.”

His astute criticism caught you off guard and peaked your anger, mainly because to a certain extent he was right. That didn’t mean you were going to let him know that though, “Excuse you! I’ll have you know he wrote The Great Divorce after the death of his wife. What else was he supposed to write about? You know what James—”

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Bucky?”

“Just gimme the book and fuck off!”

Your eyes widened at your outburst. You’d never spoken to anyone like that before in your life. Opening your mouth to apologize, you quickly closed it when James sighed heavily and pushed himself off of the bookshelf. He stared at you, his eyes calculating as he closed the space between you, slamming the good on the shelf behind your head. You jumped, turning so that you faced him head on, your back to the endless rows of books. James placed an intimidatingly large arm on either side of you, bracing himself against oak shelves. You swallowed thickly at the sheer size of him. Your pulse quickened. He had never been this close to you.

“You know what (Y/N)? I think you’re just jealous,” James murmured, tilting his head dangerously low to yours.

“Jealous? Of what?” you asked, your voice embarrassingly breathy, as your head began to swim. He was so close. So close you could smell his cologne, a musky warm scent mixed with the fresh scent of soap and…old books? Subtly, you tried to inhale more of the tantalizing smell without James noticing. But one glance up and you could see that familiar smirk and cocky gleam in his eye.

“Me, and every woman that walks in here ready to fuck me in the encyclopedia section.”

You gasped at his words, “That’s ridiculous. Why would I be jealous of that?”

“Because you want to fuck me in the encyclopedia section.”

“I—I do not—I do not want to—I hate you!”

James leaned closer, his nose brushing against yours, “Doesn’t mean you don’t want to fuck me—” His head titled, his lips brushing across your cheek, your jawline, and then to the shell of your ear. “—Just say the word and I’ll take you right there. Right then. Any time. Any day.”

You shivered at the offer. Never had his flirting gone this far. Sure, James had given you a flirtatious smile and charming little comment here and there, but never had he come close to propositioning you. You should say no. You hate him. He’s everything you despise and yet…

“Fuck it.” Rising up on the tips of your toes, you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his in a searing kiss. James’ lips claim yours, never hesitating for a second, as if expecting it. The soft skin of his plush lips a stark contrast to the harsh way in which you both battled for dominance. Every ounce of anger, frustration, and tension that you held towards him fought its way through your body as you nipped, bit, and tugged. James’ hands moved from the bookshelf to your body, gripping your hips and tugging you harshly against him, revealing the same level of pent up aggression. His hands traveled upwards, cupping your breasts through your sweater, roughly massaging them as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. Threading your fingers into his hair, you tugged harshly earning you a growl from James. Breaking away from the kiss just long enough to pull your sweater up and over your head, your bodies reconnected, the feel of your bare torso against him feeling oh so right. You continued to hang onto him for dear life, as his kisses left you breathless and needy. Bringing a leg up around his hip, your pelvis rocked against him, searching for any kind of friction as you climbed him like a tree.

“Eager, aren’t we?” James teased, hands moving down to harshly grasp your ass and lift you up. Wrapping your legs around his hips, you allowed him to carry you the brief distance away from the bookshelves and lower you onto the rough carpet floor. Trailing kisses down your neck and towards your breasts, he roughly yanked the cups of your bra down before taking a nipple between his teeth. You arched into his mouth, loving the sting as he bit down.

“God, I knew you’d be a fucking little minx,” panted James, sitting up on his knees. “Look at you all sexy and needy. Just had to get you to let go.”

Pushing up onto your elbows, you stared up at him, “Shut the fuck up and take your shirt off James.”

Swinging his hand down, he swatted the inside of your thigh, “The name’s Bucky, babe.”

Your head fell backwards at the contact and your pussy clenched as you moaned low. Sitting up, you ripped his shirt from his torso and threw it behind you before pushing him down onto the ground. You made quick work of removing your bra, shoes, and pants before reaching for his belt buckle. This time it was his turn to push up onto his elbows as he watched your near naked form, undo his belt and then his pants. You tugged at his pants and then his boxers in a desperate manner, James kicking off his shoes and socks to held aid in their removal. Finally, when he was naked before you, you took a moment to admire the lean curves of his muscular form and the thick cock that sat just below his belly button, nestled in a patch of short brown curls.

Running your nails lightly up and down his thighs, you smirked as he writhed below you, sucking in a harsh breath through his teeth. Lowering yourself slowly, you positioned yourself between his thick thighs and grasped the base of his cock in your hand, wasting no time in wrapping your lips around the head and swirling your tongue around him. Bucky cursed, low and sexy as you took him in your mouth. You worked him with your lips and tongue as your moved lower and lower. Spit gathered in your mouth as you breathed through your nose, giving your all into pleasuring the man below you. You wanted to once and for all wipe the smirk off of James “Bucky” Barnes’ face. When you made it almost all the way to the base, you hollowed your cheeks, sucking as you massaged the vein on the underside of his cock with your tongue. His hands flew to the back of your head, fingers lacing in your hair and gripping tight. He held onto you for dear life as you attempted to suck the soul out of him through his dick alone.

“Jesus Christ! Fuck! (Y/N),” he yelled, his body shuddering. When you slipped down the last few inches, allowing his cock to slip easily down your throat, he stilled, body rigid before he pulled you off of him with a curse.

You fell backwards onto your hands, spit coating your lips and drool falling down your chin as you breathed in deeply. A low growl escaped James’ throat as he launched himself at you, flipping you onto your stomach, and ripping your panties down your legs. His hands found your center in no time, his fingers delving deep into your core easily, aided by the embarrassing amount of arousal there. James fingered you, curving and finding that special spot inside of you that made your see stars. You yelped, bucking your hips back against him. His teeth sunk into the supple flesh of your ass.

“You’re god damn dripping down my arm (Y/N). Did sucking my cock turn you on that much?”

“Yes!” you admitted, continuing to rock your hips against him. Pulling his fingers from you, you whimpered at the loss of contact. The loss was only temporary though, as soon James was pulling your hips up, placing you back on your knees, face still pressed against the carpet as he lined his cock up with your entrance. There was no slow and delicate start. No, in one swift thrust, he was seated fully inside of you, hands firmly grasping your ass as he began to fuck you at a punishing pace.

“Fucking hell baby. Your pussy is like a vice-grip. I don’t think I’m going to last long,” he admitted, continuing to pound into you, his balls slapping against your clit with every thrust. He reached down, finding your clit and rubbing light, fast circles around it until you began to feel the familiar pressure building in your lower abdomen.

“Yes! Bucky! Fuck. Just like that, don’t stop!” you cried, desperate to reach your climax. The carpet scraped against your skin, sure to leave burns after. But you didn’t care. The only thing you cared about was the delicious stretch of your cunt around Bucky’s cock and your imminent orgasm.

“That’s it, baby. Say my fucking name again. Say my name as you cum all around me.”

You chanted his name over and over again, Bucky, Bucky, Bucky, until finally you were approaching the edge and falling over. Your body shuddered and hips bucked as you came, loving the feeling of every hard ridge of Bucky’s thick cock inside of you. A few seconds late, he was pulling out of you and then you felt the warm streams of cum splashing across your ass. You collapsed fully onto the carpet below you, Bucky falling after you and rolling to lay beside you. You laid there, in post-orgasmic bliss. The feeling of Bucky’s fingertips trailing up and down your spine soothing you down from your high. After a little while, the two of your stood up and began to redress. Bucky, ever the gentleman, told you to wait as he ran to the front counter and came back with some tissues before wiping up the mess he had made on your ass.

Once you were both dressed, you finished closing up the store. Neither of you spoke, instead choosing to spare the other furtive little glances as you turned out the lights and locked the door behind you both.

“Looks like the diner is still open. Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” Bucky asked, looking down at you giving you a small, shy smile that you’d never seen on him before.

His question caught you off guard. He wanted to buy you coffee. “Oh, Bucky. You don’t have to feel obligated to—”

“—I don’t feel obligated. I, um, I want to.” He swallowed thickly, almost as if he was nervous. Was he nervous? “I know we just, well, I know we skipped a few steps, but I actually do want to take you out. I’ve been trying to hint it to you for the past three months.”

“So, all the flirting with the customers…?”

“Was me stupidly trying to make you jealous,” laughed Bucky, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets.

“Ah,” you said, a smiling spreading across your face, “How about you buy me a coffee and tell me all your thoughts on Brontë.”

“How much time do you have?” asked Bucky with an exaggerated groan.

Holding your hand out to him, you reveled in the feel of his warm palm connecting with yours, “All the time in the world.”

Marvel Taglist:

@caffiend-queen

@hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall

#jbbuckybarnesBirthdayChallenge #fanfic #fanfiction #bookstoreau #smut #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #marvel

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amusewithaview · 7 years

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blood tells (a tale all its own)

Darcy looks a lot like her mother.

Most of that is by nature, some of that is by choice.

With a name like “Current Events,” she thought she’d be safe taking the class. News and stuff, right? She could handle that. Darcy really should have known better. She should have considered that ‘current’ could have variable definitions depending on perspective. Unluckily for her, the professor took a long view encompassing most of the past fifty years. The syllabus was the only warning she had, the outline told her that on week six they’d focus on assassinations that shaped society.

She clicked on the corresponding link to find the assigned reading and felt her stomach do a dip and roll. “The President Who Wasn’t - Friend or Foe of Humanity?” was the title that jumped out at her. She debated dropping the class, but eventually settled on skipping week six.

It had been five years. It was still too soon.

She knows she’s lucky. She knows.

1. Her mutation is easily hidden. She can pass. 2. Her family loves her.

But she still wonders about the other side of her family. Her father was a foundling, albeit an oddly well-funded one from what her grandparents’ investigators could turn up. They never found anything on his family though, in spite of the money they poured into the endeavor. It’s a mystery, but they’re almost certainly the ones she got her x-gene from.

She knows that her father hated what she was. She knows. There are entire youtube channels devoted to his fiery speeches, preaching hate against her and others like her. Sometimes she can’t help but wonder what if. Would he have changed his mind if he knew about her? Probably not. She’ll never know for sure, but she wonders. She tries not to let it eat at her.

Sometimes she succeeds.

When Darcy was twelve years old, she woke up with buttery-gold eyes and blue freckles scattered like a thick coat of midnight stars on her otherwise fair skin. Her first thought was cool and then can I keep them? It didn’t occur to her to be scared until she smelled the fear on her mother.

Of course, she didn’t realize what she was smelling until Heather Lewis was well into the throes of a panic attack.

Her mother kept patting her hair and crying. “Oh baby, baby, it’ll be okay, we’ll be okay, we’ll figure something out,” she kept whispering it, over and over like a mantra. “It’ll be okay, we’ll figure something out.” Heather’s hands were shaking and tears were pouring down her face unacknowledged.

Darcy was terrified.

That was how her grandparents found them: Heather clutching Darcy close to her, shaking so hard she was near to swaying back and forth. Darcy holding her mother just as fiercely, crying just as hard in confusion and fear.

Grandpa took Darcy and grandma took her mom, in two hours they reconvened in the parlor. Darcy learned three things that day:

1. Her father’s name was Graydon Creed. 2. She was a mutant. 3. If either of the first two became well-known, she could be in danger. If both of the first two became known, she could die.

They danced around the ‘death’ thing, but even as a child she could read between the lines. Her father had been making a name for himself over the past few years, making waves in the political sphere with his group, “The Friends of Humanity.” He was making a campaign off of anti-mutant paranoia and if it ever got out that he had a daughter, out of wedlock, who was a mutant...the damage to his image would be catastrophic.

It was nothing but old money snobbery that had kept Graydon out of her life up to that point. Her grandparents had given her mother an ultimatum: keep her boyfriend or keep the child. If she’d chosen the former, they would have quietly arranged for her to have an abortion but allowed her to continue at her elite boarding school in much the same way she had, considering it a ‘warning’ of sorts. Heather chose the latter and allowed her parents to withdraw her from school and squirrel her away to a more remote estate where they could pretend that Darcy was her little sister.

That was the story they told. One of those polite society fictions that stood up as well as a tower of cards, remaining intact only as long as others were kind enough not to blow on it. It helped that Darcy’s grandmother was a society dame, the kind who could make or break reputations with a single word because she knew all the dirt and wouldn’t hesitate to use it. It helped even more that Darcy’s mother was quiet about her indiscretion, didn’t flaunt it or step out of the line her parents had drawn in the sand.

Heather chose her battles carefully and, nine times out of ten, she fought for Darcy rather than herself.

Darcy had been home-schooled by her mother’s choice up till the age of twelve. After the manifestation of her x-gene it became a necessity. She learned to metamorph away her more outlandish outward traits (the blue freckles and yellow eyes she got at twelve; the pointed canines and elongated ears she grew at thirteen; the retractible claws on hands and feet she sprouted at fifteen; the tail which she never told anyone about at seventeen) enough to go to high school.

All the while she watched her father’s support grow. She tracked his progress through papers and tv adverts, through her grandfather’s blustery remarks about his dim prospects to the very real fear behind her mother and grandmother’s eyes. If Graydon Creed won, the mutants, as a whole, would lose.

Her father’s success would be her people’s downfall.

It fucked her up.

Then, days after formally announcing his candidacy for president, Graydon Creed was assassinated at a rally in Ohio.

It fucked her up worse.

In college, Darcy meets her first out-and-proud mutant.

There had been none at the fancy private boarding school she’d attended. Even if there had been, she wouldn’t have been allowed to associate with them. Creed’s death might have made the world safer for mutants and, in a very specific sort of way, Darcy, but there were plenty ready to pick up his banner of hate and intolerance. The very last thing the Lewises wanted was for Darcy to come out of the closet and be hurt.

Darcy knows that that rule comes from a place of caring. She can literally smell it on them. That doesn’t make their active and aggressive denial of a very real part of her hurt any less.

So when she meets the girl called Lorna, it’s a revelation.

Lorna has green hair, and not just on her head: all of her visible body hair is green. She lives on Darcy’s floor and by the end of the first week of freshman year, they’ve swapped assigned roommates so they can live together. Lorna doesn’t say if her x-gene does more than give her awesome hair and Darcy never asks.

Darcy doesn’t tell her the truth, but it’s a near thing. The fear is just too deeply ingrained. She regrets it when the X-Men come for Lorna, halfway through sophomore year. She doesn’t even get a chance to say goodbye properly, stuck in class when Lorna up and leaves.

They still exchange emails though.

“Did you love him, mom?” Darcy asked, once, in that brief, awful period between finding out who her father was and seeing him shot on national tv.

Heather had shrugged, pulling her daughter closer to tuck under her arm. “Part of me still loves him,” she admitted quietly. “He gave me you.”

“But without me, you could still be with him,” she said, soft like a secret.

Her mother tilted her head to the side, thinking very carefully about Darcy’s not-quite-a-question. “I don’t know,” she said finally. “I’d like to think that I would have left him when I saw how deep the hate ran, but...” She smiled a little wistfully, “Your father was - is a very charismatic man. You’ve got a little of that spark. No, really.” Her lips pressed together and a wrinkle formed between her eyes, “I’m sorry I can’t give you a better answer. I don’t know what would have happened without you, but honey?”

“Yeah?”

“I chose you over him. I will always choose you.”

Her mother is a librarian and her father was a politician and Darcy...

Darcy is a perpetual student of life, or at least that’s how she tries to sell it to her grandparents. She manages six years at Culver, ends up with a double major in political science and biology, one minor in social justice. It’s unfortunate for her that Culver requires more diversity in certain fields. She still has six credits of science requirement to kill and two options:

1. Take Rocks for Jocks. 2. Intern with a crazy astrophysicist.

Darcy takes the internship and never looks back.

She learned control out of necessity. It was learn control or be confined to the estate. Her mother did most of the real work, teaching her to meditate, helping her figure out how to associate scents with emotions and physiological tells. But sometimes Darcy just felt so pent-up, so caged.

She learned to escape into her own head.

She fell into music and let it express all the emotions she couldn’t. All the things she wanted to say and ways she wanted to react and had to hold back every moment of every single day. Her body, the one natural to her, had claws and a tail and fangs and elongated pupils and heightened senses -

Sometimes she wondered, didn’t her family realize those manifestations were more than just cosmetic?

Sometimes she wondered, did they care?

Darcy knew, on some level, that her instincts weren’t wrong just different.

It didn’t always help.

Jane is the second person Darcy wants to tell.

Not so much because she epically trusts her on sight or anything, but, well, Jane has a tendency to get a little too caught up in science and forget things like showering or cleaning. It’s a problem. Darcy grew up in a house kept clean by a weekly service. Darcy has always kept her dorm room as clean as possible because her nose demands it.

Living and working with Jane is...an adjustment.

The Thor thing? That’s enough to send Darcy’s entire world out of alignment.

CAST LIST -

Darcy Lewis (Creed)

Heather Lewis

Josephine Lewis

Abernathy Lewis

Graydon Creed

Mystique

Victor Creed

BONUS

Lorna Dane

#amuse writes stuff #darcy lewis #graydon creed #victor creed #mystique #mutant!darcy #darcy is a mutant #darcy is graydon creed's daughter #darcy is the most repressed feral mutant in the history of ever #lorna dane #various ocs (darcy's family)#i didn't get to the part where wolverine meets her and smells mystique and assumes she IS mystique and nearly disembowels her #or the part where sabretooth kidnaps her to teach her how to feral #or the part where mystique shows up for realsies and true fun is had #also could not figure out who to ship her with no lie #also also the part where all of the many kids and adopted kids of her blood relatives find her and decide to befriend her #darcy's wacky extended family (drama)

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chrismaverickdotcom · 6 years

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Mav’s Big Fucking Oscar Predictions List – 2018 (Why can't my favorite movie win?)

Who wants to do an Oscar pool? I love the Oscars. Everyone knows that. Oh, you didn’t know that? Well, then you haven’t been paying attention… how the hell are you even reading this? To me the Oscars are almost as exciting as the Super Bowl (come on, last year’s last minute buzzer beater by Moonlight was amazing).. I watch them every year and I make Stephanie watch with me so we can fill out ballots and baton the winners. In 2015 and 2016, I posted my “Big Fucking Oscars Prediciton List” for the awards so that people could try to beat me. For some reason I seem to have forgotten to have done a predictions list online last year; I was probably too busy working on a conference paper or something. I’m busy working on papers right now, but you know what… fuck it.

I love the Oscars!

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So I’ve written at various points about what it means to be an Oscar movie and why something like Wonder Woman, as much as I loved it, doesn’t deserve to be there. It just isn’t “good” enough in an objective sense… at least not in the any of the ways that the Oscars are meant to measure. The Oscars often take criticism for being “out of touch with the fans”and just being “the Hollywood industry just taking a chance to blow itself.” And well, YES! It is! It is totally Hollywood taking the chance to blow itself. That’s why I use the silly sex metaphor in my predictions. It is what it is, and that’s ok. The Oscars are the movie industry looking at the their peers and celebrating their technical and artistic merit. They’re about the artistic statement that the Academy wants to present. The Oscars aren’t about what people like. They’re not about connecting with the fans. That’s the People’s Choice awards and the Billboards. Wonder Woman was hugely inspiring to a great many people who needed that inspiration and will carry it with them for the rest of their lives. Black Panther is doing much the same this year. But you don’t get an Oscar for that. You get a different award. It’s called a billion dollars. And when you compare that billion dollars to a little golden statue that something like Moonlight takes home, well… it’s not that bad a trade.

Movies are a funny art form. Pop culture entertainment is in general, but especially movies. Pop culture fandom often develops such a sense of ownership over the media that it consumes that it feels entitled to demand that others see it the same way as they do. No one ever writes think pieces complaining that Pulitzer Prize should have considered Twilight or The Hunger Games or even Harry Potter series. And when’s the last time you read a hot take on someone being snubbed by the Dentistry Awards? To argue that the popular choice film should get the award because the Academy is out of touch for wanting to celebrate their values rather than the public’s is much the same thing.

That said, I don’t always think the Academy gets it right. Sometimes I disagree with their choices, even within their own metric. Lots of critics do. Famously Shakespeare in Love beating out Saving Private Ryan back in 1999 and the Artist arguably should have lost to literally ANY of the other nominees back in 2012. So this year I figured maybe I’d offer two sets of picks when applicable: The pick I think will win and the pick I want to win when I disagree. It will be interesting to see if any of my wishes for will actually pull an upset.

Steph and I will be watching the show Sunday night and probably drinking a bunch (yay, I don’t have to work on Monday!!!!) so if anyone is up for Oscarsing and Chilling as the kids say (well, the cool kids say… ok… well they should say… whatever… fuck you!) let me know. And one way or the other, I’d love to see your Oscar Picks as well. Post them here, it’ll be fun to see if anyone can beat me. You can get a ballot here: https://www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/2018/02/printable-2018-oscar-ballot. For extra super awesome points, feel free to comment with your guesses before you read mine. That makes it more fun to compare.

And now my picks… Mav’s Big Fucking Oscar Predictions 2018:

Best Picture:

The biggest award of the night is probably the most obvious place where I’ll disagree, and it’s the place where the common viewer probably has the most problem with the Oscars. It’s where people think Wonder Woman got snubbed. But when you look at the other films there… films, which granted only 5-10% of the Wonder Woman audience saw, and you objectively judge them it doesn’t fit. If anything, the snub here for me was The Big Sick, which really probably should have snuck in here. It is worth noting that the Oscars allow up to ten nominations for Best Picture (instead of the five for most categories). This year they only chose nine, and so there was an open spot which has actually been pretty debated. In some respect, I guess everyone can just assume their favorite film should have been inserted there and was snubbed for political reasons. Or maybe it’s like saving a seat for Elijah? I dunno. Anyway Conventional wisdom is that this is a two dog race between The Shape of Water and Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri. I personally actually liked the latter film more, but for Best Picture, I think the visual artistry of former film is going outweigh the storytelling mastery of the latter. Especially since Three Billboards isn’t really “enjoyable” so much as it is “good.” The social issues being so unresolved and so present in Three Billboards is going to leave some voters uncomfortable for this category. Of course, if it were up to me, I’d go with Lady Bird. I do think it was the best film of the year in terms of storytelling and theatrical craft, plus it fit the social message of the time period and it was hella enjoyable. Lady Bird was like the first time you have sex. It was true love or what felt like it. Maybe you don’t totally know what you’re doing yet, but it was sweet innocent and beautiful. You’ll never forget it. But that just won’t compare to the mastery of what is Shape of Water, this year. After all, who doesn’t love the beautiful touching story of a woman fucking a fish. Everyone wants to see that, right? You know you do!

Mav’s wishful thinking: Lady Bird

Mav’s prediction: The Shape of Water

Best Directing:

Much of what I said under Best Picture applies here as well. This is the place where a lot of people thought Patty Jenkins should have been nominated for directing Wonder Woman (she shouldn’t have been). And it’s a place where I personally would love to see Greta Gerwig win for Lady Bird. She won’t. A lot of people are probably also probably pulling for Jordan Peele to get the Oscar for Get Out. He won’t. Hopefully Gerwig and Peele will have future opportunities. But as far as how this year is going to shake down, this is all about Guillermo del Toro. And this is for the same reasons that I think his film is going to take Best Picture. This is a movie that honestly isn’t all that innovative from a storytelling point of view. It was a cute little fairytale, that I’ve seen before (specifically it’s Splash… but if you want to take out specific plot details, it’s just a lot of star-crossed lovers romances), but what made it special was the exceptional craft of presentation and that was all del Toro. Who else could make such a beautiful visual statement out of woman fucking a fish? Exactly!

Mav’s wishful thinking: Greta Gerwig for Lady Bird

Mav’s prediction: Guillermo del Toro for The Shape of Water

Best Actor in a Leading Role:

I try to see most of the movies that I think have Oscar potential. Partly because I want to make informed guesses here. Partly because I’m like the pop culture weenie guy so understanding the current zeitgeist is sort of my job. And partly because I just really like movies. I’m going to admit that I never got around to seeing Darkest Hour. I wanted to, it was just never the right time. So I’m kind of judging it based on trailers and clips. But I think I have the basic plot down. The story goes like this: Let’s dress up Gary Oldman in a fat suit and win him an Oscar. And something about Churchill too, maybe, but really what can we do to get Oldman and Oscar? That’s the story, and I think it’s going to work. The only thing could possibly fuck it up is that we know Daniel Day-Lewis is giving up acting after his latest movie (Phantom Thread), presumedly to continue to pursue his lifelong dream of being a cobbler (no, really!). And it’s possible that the Academy just wants a chance to blow Day-Lewis last time… you know how it is… sometimes the love of your life is leaving you… you know there’s nothing you can do to make them stay, but if this is going to the last night together, then you’re going to make it memorable and you’re going to fuck the shit out of them! Really work it this time. Suck harder than ever. No orifice is off limts. Maybe call in a friend as well. The Academy wants Daniel to know what he’s giving up. They want him to remember their name. But let it go, Academy. He’s already moved on. I mean, it’s not that he doesn’t care about you. He does. And if you beg hard enough… then sure… he’ll finish on your face one last time. But honestly, he’s doing that for you, not for himself. The magic is gone for Daniel. It’s over. If you love him let him go. But Gary… look at Gary over there in his fat suit. He’s doing that for YOU! Gary loves you. He just wants a little recognition. He just wants to know you love him. You don’t need to do too much. Maybe just a little hand stuff. He deserves it. Don’t make him beg. He will. And you know what that’s like. Besides, Oldman is totally ok with you having a side piece.

Mav’s wishful thinking and prediction: Gary Oldman for The Darkest Hour

Best Actor in a Supporting Role:

And speaking of being a side piece. Sam Rockwell wants this bad and will do ANYTHING for you and I mean ANYTHING. All the stuff you’re willing to do for DDL plus stuff you’ve never even heard of and wouldn’t know to google. Filthy stuff. Sam’s going reach down your — Ok, I just want to break away from the sexual metaphor gimmick for a second. Same Rockwell, fucking owned his role in Three Billboards. No one else matters here. Not even a little bit. And yeah, there’s a little bit of controversy about “should we be celebrating someone in this day cultural moment for playing such a racist?” And the answer is yes. Rockwell embodied that character perfectly. That was the definition of acting and he did it in a way that made a character that was completely over the top seem very real and tangible. So much so that he caused the controversy. That’s craft and there’s just no question that he deserves this. Ok back to the sexual metaphor gimmick already in progress. — and you’ll both be walking funny for weeks afterwards.

Mav’s wishful thinking and prediction: Sam Rockwell for Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri

Best Actress in a Leading Role:

So there’s this problem in Hollywood. They favor the young, particularly among women. And really… I get it. Because given the chance I totally would totally fuck both Margot Robbie and Saoirse Ronan. And if you don’t want to… well, something is wrong with you. But they’re both in their 20s. They’re skinny, white, blonde and pretty. Frankly, even if they weren’t talented (and they both are) Hollywood find something for them to do. Sally Hawkins is 41 and brunette, so she had to do a little something extra and fuck a fish on camera to get noticed (and again, I don’t want downplay the cinematic achievement there… it was beautiful… like, I mean, I’m questioning stuff about myself). But you know who’s willing to really work for it? A sixty year old France McDormand, who like her co-star Sam Rockwell (see above) was good enough that my whole stupid Hollywood orgy metaphor just kind of falls apart. She was just that good. It doesn’t matter who else was nominated. What? There are five spots and we only nominate four women? I don’t know, someone throw Meryl Streep in there for whatever she’s done most recently… because it doesn’t fucking matter. This is McDormund’s year.

Mav’s wishful thinking and prediction: Frances McDormand for Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri

Best Actress in a Supporting Role:

So this is a weird one. Here’s the one place that I feel like there was a serious snub this year. Holly Hunter really deserved a nomination here for The Big Sick. It didn’t happen. Probably just because the movie came out too long ago and no one really expected much to come of it. I’d argue it’s probably the biggest omission in this year’s nominations. She was amazing in it. The only things that come close are Allison Williams not getting nominated for lead actress in her role in Get Out (and she’s young, white and pretty… even without being blonde she’ll get another shot… especially given how talented she is) and Patrick Stewart not getting a nomination for supporting actor in Logan (but that’s a comic book movie… so probably a lot of Academy voters didn’t take it seriously even though he was very good). However, in each of these cases, including Hunter, it wouldn’t have mattered. Rockwell is taking the category that Stewart would have been nominated for. McDrormund is taking the category that Williams would been in. And supporting actress is coming down to one of two people. Laurie Metcalf for Lady Bird and Allison Janney for I, Tonya. This one is kind of a steal. Janney is going to take it. And Janney totally deserves an Oscar. But even at 58, she’s going to get another shot. This is a body of work award. She’s paid her dues and she was good in this and she’s going to take it. I personally think Metcalf was better. And she’s 62 and doesn’t do as many movies (she’s a TV actress) so this is probably her last shot. But it’s not going to happen. This is Janney’s year. Everyone else should just be happy to be there. But this is the one place where I would have replaced a nominee. I like Octavia Spencer a lot and she has an Oscar win and another nomination for a reason. Shape of Water was not her best work. Hunter was better. So since they’re all going to lose to Janney anyway, I would have liked to have seen Hunter get a nod here.

Mav’s wishful thinking: Laurie Metcalf for Lady Bird

Mav’s prediction: Allison Janney for I, Tonya

Best Animated Feature:

Animated Feature is probably the one category in all the Oscars where being the super popular movie is actually the best way to guarantee a win. Sometimes this is deserved. Sometimes it’s not. This time it is. The answer here is Coco. Arguably, Coco deserves that 10th spot in the Best Picture race. There shouldn’t even be a contest here really. To continue the Hollywood orgy metaphor that I’ve been doing one last time (it doesn’t really matter for the awards after this) and be quite inappropriate for a film that is aimed very much at children, Coco is like deep sensual lovemaking while everyone else is still waiting for their first kiss. I mean, really… we’re comparing this to fucking Boss Baby. Are you fucking kidding me?

Mav’s wishful thinking and prediction: Coco

Best Animated Short Film:

And now we’re getting down to the films and awards that most people don’t understand even a little bit. That’s why the orgy metaphor is hard to continue If you’ve got an Oscar pool going, this is where you win it. Animated short films are actually really hard to judge. Partly because it’s sort of like Best Picture in that there are a lot of different ways to win it. Sometimes it’s technical achievement. But it’s just as often to be awarded on grounds of making a really touching story or a beautiful piece of artwork. And sometimes you just give it to whatever random thing Disney or Pixar tossed out there just to win the award (this year, that thing is Lou). This was tricky this year, because I actually would kind of like to see Revolting Rhymes win in any given year. But not this one. Usually, this isn’t the kind of award that anyone that you’ve ever heard of matters at all. Best Animated Short Film is not about star fucking. But not this year. This year, I think it goes to Kobe Bryant’s Dear Basketball. Oh yeah, did you know Kobe Bryant was a film maker now? Well he is. And his short is a gorgeous and touching love letter to… well, himself… but it’s really good.

Mav’s wishful thinking and prediction: Dear Basketball

Best Cinematography:

If there is a fucking god, then this belongs to Blade Runner 2049. I loved that movie, and while I acknowledge it isn’t for everyone (and predicted that no one would see it when I reviewed it), if Blade Runner is about nothing else, it is about the beauty of the film medium. This category basically exists for Blade Runner 2049. I would argue that ninety years of fucking Oscars were all leading up to this moment when Blade Runner 2049 wins an Oscar for cinematography. But there is no god… so there’s a good chance that Dunkirk takes this instead. But I’m going against my gut… this is the one place where I’m going to put my wishes in instead and make my official prediction what I want it to be instead of what I expect the Academy to do. It’s the one award I’ll be least surprised to lose.

Mav’s wishful thinking and prediction: Blade Runner 2049

Best Costume Design:

Remember how I said that The Darkest Hour only exists to give Gary Oldman an award for best actor? Well, Phantom Thread only exists in order to win the award for Costume Design. No joking… it’s literally a movie about designing costumes. That’s it. I actually haven’t watched it yet (I should) but I mean, this is the most Oscar pandering concept ever. And by all accounts, they did a great job.

Mav’s wishful thinking and prediction: Phantom Thread

Best Documentary Feature:

This one is always hard. Generally I never get to see any of these until after the Oscars (if ever) and that’s true this year. A lot of the industry buzz is that this is going to go to either Icarus or Faces Places. But, I’m going with Last Men in Aleppo. The Documentary category is one where traditionally the Academy likes to show just how socially conscious they are. This is not not just culturally and socially relevant in this exact historic moment as a film, but it is notable because it is not only the first film ever nominated out of Syria, and the subject matter of the film itself, but because if it were to win, no one will be there to accept the award because Trump’s travel ban is keeping the filmmakers out of our country. And yeah, maybe you didn’t know that… but the people who vote for documentaries probably do.

Mav’s wishful thinking and prediction: Last Men in Aleppo

Best Documentary Short Subject:

Same issue with Documentary Short Subject. Here socially conscious and relevant matters. The two short subject categories (this and animated) are the only ones where all of the voters are required to see all of the films (since it doesn’t take long) and with documentary, this is a place where making a statement matters. I’m going with Heroin(e) purely because people are going to want to address opioid crisis.

Mav’s wishful thinking and prediction: Heroin(e)

Best Film Editing:

Remember what I said about there not being a god? If there were a god, then Baby Driver might have a shot here. Baby Driver is a movie that is all about craft. The magic of that movie is the way in which sound and visuals are expertly crafted together. The challenge was not only editing it together in a brilliant way that made for an engaging visual experience, but the technical expertise to make it work with the music and sound mixing. The film is a master class in craft. It is a singular achievement in film editing that absolutely deserves this almost as much as Blade Runner 2049 deserves the cinematography award. But I said I was only going to play that card and go against my gut once and I am sticking to it. So I think Baby Driver gets beat here just because it’s too genre and high concept and voters might never have given it a chance. So this award is going to go to the second best edited film this year, Dunkirk.

Mav’s wishful thinking: Baby Driver

Mav’s prediction: Dunkirk

Best Foreign Language Film:

Like I said, these categories are really hard. I’m going to go with A Fantastic Woman, because it’s the one I am most interested in seeing (I haven’t seen any of the nominees this year). There are a couple others that sound interesting (The Insult is getting some good buzz) but I feel like this one. And much like the documentary categories being a socially relevant can really help in this category. Not as much, but some. And this is a story focusing very heavily on transgender rights. This is something that can also tank it because… well, the Academy is a lot of very very old white men. So it might just be “icky.” But, I expect Foreign Language Film is one of the categories where a lot of the people who would be squicked out by it just don’t bother to vote, so I’m going with it.

Mav’s wishful thinking and prediction: A Fantastic Woman

Best Live Action Short Film:

This is another one of my hard sections because I haven’t seen them. So on this one I’m judging purely on industry buzz and social relevance. I’m going with Dekalb Elementary. Honestly, a big part of this is because it will create a moment for the filmmaker to stand up and give an inspiring speech about gun control and how we have to do something to end the crisis of school shootings. And everyone will applaud and feel great… well, until he gets played off for giving a speech longer than ten seconds, because we have to make sure we have enough time left for the big names to give speeches at the end of the show. We care about school shootings… but only so much.

Mav’s wishful thinking and prediction: DeKalb Elementary

Best Makeup and Hairstyling:

This is usually a hard one. It’s not this time. Remember how I said that Darkest Hour was a movie about getting Gary Oldman his Oscar? Well, in order to that they had to transform him. And that took a massive technical achievement in makeup and hairstyling.

Mav’s wishful thinking and prediction: Darkest Hour

Best Original Score:

Original Score is a weird category this year. For obvious reasons, the industry sort of privileges the “Original” part of Original Score. And, so in a lot of ways it sort of makes sense to exclude Baby Driver from the category because the music is from preexisting sources. BUT, in the same way that Phantom Thread is a movie about costuming. Baby Driver is a movie about scoring a movie. That’s the whole gimmick of the film. And to exclude it is sort of the same thing as arguing a DJ isn’t a musician and well… that’s an argument. But in this specific case, I feel like Baby Driver at least needed to be on the conversation. Certainly more than Star Wars: The Last Jedi which I think is just sort of there because legally, Star Wars has to be nominated in this category. But Baby Driver is not there. And so I am forced to pick something else, and while I personally liked the Dunkirk score a lot, I think for what the Academy is going for, we go to Shape of Water again here. If nothing else, because it has momentum.

Mav’s wishful thinking: Dunkirk

Mav’s prediction: Shape of Water

Best Original Song:

The music categories are hard at the Oscars. You have to sort of forget that you’re at movie awards and then apply the logic that you would use for making a Grammy pick. But then you have to remember that you’re picking an award for a movie and you are at the Oscars and it’s just a whole big thing. And also, it’s music so it kinda needs to sound nice. Anyway, for some reason, 21st century Hollywood loves a musical and The Greatest Showman was one.

Mav’s wishful thinking and prediction: “This is Me” from The Greatest Showman

Best Production Design:

Like I said, there is no god, but there is momentum.

Mav’s wishful thinking: Blade Runner 2049

Mav’s prediction: Shape of Water

Best Sound Mixing:

As I say every year, no one in the world really understands the difference between Sound Editing and Sound Mixing. Not even the people who do it for a living. I think I understand… and if I do, then this is the one place where Baby Driver has a very real shot at winning an Oscar. And it deserves it. But again, remember, there is no god… and you’re not required to watch all of the movies to vote in this category. I can totally see old Oscar voters looking at the cover for their Baby Driver screener DVD and saying “oh fuck no” and moving on without knowing how much that movie needs this. It is a celebration of the art of film sound. But no… they’ll probably just pick Dunkirk.

Mav’s wishful thinking: Baby Driver

Mav’s prediction: Dunkirk

Best Sound Editing:

Baby Driver was more about the sound mixing than the sound editing… you know… unless I got those backwards… because again, no one really remembers which is which. If I’m right, then Blade Runner 2049 had better sound editing. But it doesn’t matter, because the same deal as with Sound Mixing and the Academy will just pick Dunkirk and move on with their lives.

Mav’s wishful thinking: Blade Runner 2049

Mav’s prediction: Dunkirk

Best Visual Effects:

Do you know why this category exists? This category exists to give trophies to Star Wars. Any year that there is no Star War is just a year that we’re standing around and waiting for a Star War to happen. And I am including the fifty years that the ward existed before the first Star War. And now that we have a Star War every year, you should be able to sort of pencil in the Star War to win this award. Only it hasn’t happened. See, the last time we brought back the Star Wars we were busy giving this award to Matrixes and Lords of Rings. And this time, now that we have a yearly Star War, we keep saying “oh, well, there will be another chance for the Star Wars, so let’s recognize an Ex Machina or a Jungle Book because we’ll totally get to the recognizing the Star War next year.” Well, this is not that year. Because this is the year of Blade Runner 2049. And frankly, there’s probably not going to be another one. In 1982, the original Blade Runner got bumped for this award by E.T. which for all intents and purposes (in this category at least) might as well have been a Star War. Well, this franchise didn’t wait thirty-five years for that to happen again. So you know… lets see how Solo: A Star Wars Story does next year (BWAHAHAHAHAH!!!!)

Mav’s wishful thinking and prediction: Blade Runner 2049

Best Adapted Screenplay:

Sometimes it’s an honor to be nominated. Two of my own personal favorite films are in this category this year. Logan and The Disaster Artist. A movie about the X-man Wolverine and a movie about arguably one of the worst movies of all time. Neither of these things have any business being anywhere near the Academy Awards… and yet, in these two specific cases… they totally do belong. They’re just not going to win. In the past we’ve had a lot of Oscar controversy about things being too white. Too male. Too heteronormative. The Academy is trying to fix that… Moonlight last year was a big part of that. But they’re not going to burn the Best Picture spot on diversity every year. And a good place to do that is the screenwriting awards. So this is going to be the Academy saying “you want diversity? Fine, we’re so woke we’re going to give an award to a gay film that you’ve never even fucking heard of. That’s right, we’re going with Call Me By Your Name. You don’t know it! Not so woke after all, are you! Fuck you!”

Mav’s wishful thinking: Logan (though to be fair, this is partly me being a comic book weenie and I haven’t seen the film that is going to win yet either… though I want to)

Mav’s prediction: Call Me By Your Name

Best Original Screenplay:

And they can consider demonstrating their wokeness with the other screenwriting award. And this is kind of a problem. Because as I said on my very first pick, Lady Bird was probably the best pure film of the year. And it really deserves and Oscar. But it’s not going to get one. It’s going to get shut out, and that sucks. Because it wasn’t the best written film. The Big Sick was actually better, and this is the only places it’s even nominated. And I really would have liked to see that get more recognition. And really, again, if there was a god, it would probably be a shoe-in here. But there is no god… and in the mind of the Academy voter, diversifying means tossing a vote towards a woman, a gay, or a black. But then when the voter looks at Kumail Nanjiani they say “what the fuck is that dude?!?!? Pakistani? Uhhh…. no… no no no… that’s just not going to happen here.” Wokeness only goes so far. But on a good note, it goes far enough that I think you can pencil in Jordan Peele to get recognized for Get Out. Oddly enough, of the three things I’ve mentioned here, Get Out is probably the LEAST well written. But it’s the one that I feel like can really get traction and win here. Of course, this is a tough category… and I wouldn’t be shocked if Three Billboards gets another nod here (and that would be reasonable) or Shape of Water because of its momentum (and this would NOT be reasonable. It’s not as well WRITTEN as the others). But I think this is one where the more diverse pick really can pull it out. Not just because he’s black, but because it’s such a different film than anything else that Academy has ever seen. And yet they liked it enough to nominate it anyway.

Mav’s wishful thinking: The Big Sick

Mav’s prediction: Get Out

So those are my picks… What are yours? And if you’re interested in watching with me an Steph, let me know (we may even say yes 😀).

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Mav’s Big Fucking Oscar Predictions List – 2018 (Why can’t my favorite movie win?) was originally published on ChrisMaverick dotcom

#90th Academy Awards #Academy Awards #Baby Driver #Blade Runner 2049 #Coco #Dunkirk #get out #greatest showman #I tonya #movie reviews #oscars #shape of water #Three Billboards Outside Ebbing

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