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idiopath-fic-smile · 6 months

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this one goes out to all my Singin' in the Rain ot3 truthers—

Cosmo Brown had always known it would end like this.

Cosmo was a lot of things—in fact, you could argue he was too many—but he wasn’t dumb.

From the early years, when Cosmo and Don were just kids playing for pennies in pool halls, to their stint dodging rotten vegetables on Vaudeville stages across the very backwaters of America’s backwaters, to their first real breath of success in Hollywood (and then the second and the third and the fourth), Cosmo would catch a glimpse of his handsome, charismatic friend from the corner of his eye—a flash of dark hair, that perfect tooth powder ad smile—and know that for all Don’s protestations, someday the guy was gonna meet a wonderful girl and get married, settle down, and very gently slip off to the far edge of Cosmo’s life.

So yes, Cosmo had seen Kathy Selden coming. Not the details, not her sense of humor or her musical little laugh or the madcap way she really threw herself into dancing with them around Don’s place at 1:30 in the morning—and okay, certainly not the part at the beginning where she had jumped out of a cake at a party, but he thought a fella could be excused for not correctly divining that.

The general outline of the thing, though, how Don’s eyes followed her around a room...he had been preparing for Don to propose to Kathy ever since she’d tried to throw a pie at Don’s face. And when the happy day came, Cosmo had been ready with his best man suit, his best man speech, a slightly updated version of “Here Comes the Bride” that’d had Don and Kathy laughing all the way down the aisle.

Don and Kathy would buy a house together. They would have a swimming pool and a dog and then inevitably, a small parade of adorable little snot-nosed kids who would call him Uncle Cosmo, and they would spend less and less time with him, not on purpose but busy with the rest of their lives, and ultimately Cosmo would learn to make his peace with it because he’d have no other choice and he would have to try to move on and not live too much in his memories. He could picture it so clearly, he figured if the songwriting gig with Monumental didn’t pan out, he could always return to the backwater circuit with a new act: The Amazing Cosmo of the Cosmos—ladies and gentlemen, he sees the future, he reads the stars, he silently pines for his best married pal and all the while tap dancing!

Don and Kathy inviting him along on their honeymoon, though—that part was a surprise.

“What?” said Cosmo, hands frozen over the piano keys. He’d been busy with a brand-new assignment; on the heels of The Dancing Cavalier, offers were pouring in and he’d taken the first one scoring a movie that didn’t star anyone he was secretly in love with.

Don had looked a little wounded when Cosmo broke the news last week, but a guy had to start making his own way in the world. Besides, orchestrating layers of strings to swell as the camera zoomed in on Don and Kathy blissfully locking lips in radiant monochrome, oblivious to the rest of the world—well, Cosmo knew that dance, he had mastered the footwork, and he didn’t especially feel like a reprise.

It wasn’t lost on him that Kathy had dropped by his rehearsal space alone today. Of course, he had no idea what this meant—he didn’t think it was about the new job; Don didn’t tend to stay sore at him for that long—but Kathy was acting perfectly natural, and so probably the smart thing was to follow her lead.

“It’s a two-week transatlantic cruise,” she said now, gracefully dropping beside him on the piano bench. “We thought it would be nice to see Europe, take in the sights, get away from all the cameras.”

“Ah yes, such a wallflower, our dear Don,” said Cosmo solemnly. “Besieged on all sides by the love of his public, a tragedy of our times, up there with Lear! Hamlet! Caesar! The one with all the Greeks and the giant wooden horse, nay, nay, neigh.” He played a tragic little trill, for effect. Kathy huffed a laugh and smacked his arm.

“You know that’s not it,” she said. “Being watched all the time—we can’t always do what we want. It’s rotten.”

Tell me about it, thought Cosmo.

He was sort of seeing a fight choreographer named Archibald, who came from old money and was a “the third” or a “the fifth” but nice enough Cosmo might even forgive him for that. Archibald was trim and athletic, with dark brown hair that was just starting to go gray at the temples and enough discretion that Cosmo didn’t think they’d get caught. The only problem was that he didn’t laugh at Cosmo’s jokes, seemed to just tolerate them.

“What do you two even talk about, then?” Don had asked, when Cosmo had let this slip over drinks the same night he’d explained about the new movie project. (Cosmo had been trying to spend less time with Don and Kathy since the wedding but Don had said, “C’mon, pal, we miss you” and Kathy had laid one hand on his arm and peered up at him with her big green eyes and Cosmo was only one man.)

Cosmo had frowned, because Don hated Archibald, for reasons that were frankly mysterious. Then he’d looked up and grinned a grin he didn’t exactly feel and said,

“Tell you when you’re older,” and then Don had choked on his dry Martini even though Cosmo knew Don knew about Cosmo’s tendencies. It wasn’t something they discussed, and Cosmo had never properly gone with a guy before, but whenever a big-shot producer started complaining about all the degenerate queers in showbiz, Don always sharply steered the conversation someplace else. It was all very gallant and noble and knightly, and someday Don would play King Arthur and Kathy his lady Guinevere—

“Honestly, sometimes it feels as if we’re living in a fishbowl,” said Kathy now, in the present.

“And so your solution is to relocate,” said Cosmo, “to the biggest fishbowl on this here magnificent earth. The mighty ocean!” He struck up a sea shanty. “Oh blow the man down, blow the man down / way ay, blow the man down…”

Not everyone appreciated his musical flights of fancy, but when Cosmo turned, she was leaning with her elbow on the side arm of the piano, watching him with her chin on her hand and laughing.

“Just for two weeks,” she said. “So, are you coming?”

“With you two,” said Cosmo, just so there could be no misunderstandings. “On your one and only honeymoon.”

“Yes,” said Kathy.

“As what, your first mate?”

“Sure.” She grinned and threw him a quick salute. Cosmo was almost never attracted to women but in this case, he understood the appeal.

He swallowed. “You are aware of that ancient saying, ‘Two’s company and three’s a fast track to divorce court’?”

“You’re hardly a threat to our marriage, Cosmo,” she said, and he agreed, of course, in both directions, even, but it still stung to hear her say it out loud. For want of anything better to do, he gasped, clutched a hand to his chest and reeled backwards so hard, he threw himself off the piano bench, landing in a somersault on the floor.

Kathy spun around fluidly on the bench to face him, pleated skirt whirling a little, heels of her shoes clicking together.

“Oh, I said that badly,” she said. “I only mean that it’s more fun when you’re around. We have a better time, Don and me both. Remember the night we decided to make Dueling Cavalier a musical?”

“Do I remember the best night of my life?” Cosmo peered up at her from the hardwood. “Why yes, madam, now that you mention it, I believe it might ring a bell or two.”

“The best—” She frowned for a moment, and he remembered then that as a newly married woman, a newly married woman to Don Lockwood, no less, she’d no doubt experienced any number of evenings that blew that one out of the water.

Even besides that, it felt awfully revealing all of a sudden. Cosmo threw an arm over his eyes. He felt naked. He wished he was naked, because that might at least distract from whatever his face was doing.

“So it beats your time with Archibald, then?” said Kathy shrewdly.

Cosmo uncovered his eyes. He forgot, sometimes, that new as Kathy was to the moving pictures business, she was still a city girl, with a city girl’s worldliness. Also, Don had probably told her; that seemed like the kind of second-hand secrets married people shared with each other. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

“Hardly a topic for mixed company,” he said.

There was a pause.

“So yes,” she said and smiled with a smugness that would’ve been unbecoming were she not as cute as a button.

“What do you and Don have against the poor man anyway?” he groused. “He’s never done so much as sneezed in your direction, and if he did, I’m sure he’d use a handkerchief.”

“For one thing, we know you could do better,” said Kathy, folding her arms.

Cosmo elbowed his way back to sitting, brushing himself off with dignity. “Well, better’s not exactly knocking on my door right now.”

“This town doesn’t have an ounce of sense.” She reached down to offer him a hand up, pulling Cosmo to his feet; she was stronger than she looked. “Listen, two weeks away, it’ll be good for you.”

“What about you two?” Cosmo protested as he reclaimed his spot on the bench, Kathy sliding to make room.

“What about us?” said Kathy with wide eyes.

“Two newlyweds might want some alone time?” he offered weakly.

Kathy shrugged. “I told you, there won’t be reporters or cameras. It’ll be plenty private.”

“What about your matrimonial needs?”

“Which needs?”

His eyes narrowed; she was a terrific actress but suddenly he wasn’t sure he was buying it. Kathy wasn’t dumb either.

“You have to know what I mean. Don’t make me play Cole Porter at you,” said Cosmo. She hesitated, and Cosmo began to pluck out a melody: “Birds do it, bees do it / even educated fleas do it…” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Let’s do it,” sang Kathy, finishing the stanza in her lovely alto, “let’s fall in love.”

Cosmo stopped playing.

“I do know,” she said simply, “of course I do, and we’re not worried about it, alright? Listen, do you want to go?”

Cosmo, who had been carefully not asking himself that question, stared down at the piano keys. Did he want to go? He thought back to that night at Don’s, the three of them giddy with excitement and inspiration and sleep deprivation, running through the house, clowning around and dancing with no audience except each other—he hadn’t felt like a hanger-on then, like a third wheel or an extra limb or a chaperone. He’d felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be, one note of a perfect chord.

Still.

“I can’t swim,” he said.

“They’ll have lifejackets,” said Kathy.

“I’ll have to work.”

“We’ll bring a piano.”

“All my houseplants will die,” said Cosmo.

“All your houseplants are fake,” she said. This was true, although he wasn’t sure how she knew since she’d never been to his house. She sighed. “Remember the night of that first screening, when you were about to expose Lina and instead of explaining what was happening, Don told me I had to sing, that I didn’t have a choice?”

He winced, thinking of Kathy’s heartbroken, tear-stained face before they’d pulled up the curtain and revealed who was really singing when Lina moved her lips.

“Yes, and I feel just awful about it.”

“Well, Don doesn’t,” said Kathy. “Because he knew it would take too long to convince me to do something that mean to her.”

“Mean?” Cosmo echoed. “She tried to trap you in a lifelong contract and steal your voice. A common sea witch wouldn’t stoop so low.”

“But there wasn’t time,” she pressed. “And anyway, he knew how it would end.”

“What’s your point?”

“We already bought your tickets,” said Kathy.

Cosmo gaped at her.

“We’ve cleared the trip with everyone at Monumental and anyway, like I said, we’ll have a piano on the boat.”

Distantly, he was aware his mouth was still hanging open. Kathy reached over with one light finger under his chin and gently closed it.

“That’s better,” she said, folding her hands daintily in her lap. It was around this time she seemed to realize it wasn’t some routine, that Cosmo really was well and truly stunned. “Of course, nobody is going to force you to go with us if you truly don’t want to,” she said into the silence.

“These tickets,” he said at last, “are they refundable?”

“Gosh,” said Kathy easily, “I can’t imagine they are, no.”

The thing was, none of them were hurting for money or work anymore, so the fact that Don and Kathy might be out even a few hundred dollars didn’t catch at him the way it might’ve some years earlier. No, the thought that really seized his imagination was the mental image of Don and Kathy planning this together, Don and Kathy discussing the matter with each other, maybe over breakfast—toast and coffee in their dressing gowns, so sure it was the right thing to do that they’d decided to just go ahead and make preparations: oh and a ticket for Cosmo, of course.

He could do it, he realized. He could go. He wanted to go. It was foolish, but Cosmo was an entertainer; he’d been doing foolish things in front of a roomful of witnesses since he was in shortpants.

“I’ll pack tonight,” he said.

“Perfect!” Kathy hopped off the bench and straightened out her dress. “And bring something nice to wear at dinner for a night or two; it doesn’t need to be black-tie formal, a good suit will do.”

He nodded. “I shall leave the top hat and monocle at home. Two weeks, you say?”

“Yes, and another half-day on either side flying to the harbor and back.” She reached into her coat pocket, and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. “The itinerary,” she said. “Don and I are so glad you’ll be coming.”

“Uh-huh,” said Cosmo. “Say, where is that fella, anyway? What’s the big idea, can’t even stick around to ask his best pal to his own honeymoon?”

“He’s planning the trip,” said Kathy brightly. “Last-minute details. Anyway, he thought you and I should have a chat, one on one. He thought it might help.”

He blinked. “Help what?”

“Help us,” she said.

It was all starting to feel like a farce, like one of those old Vaudeville acts with a lot of fast talking.

“Did it?” he asked.

“I think so,” said Kathy warmly. She turned and began to walk towards the door. “See you at the airport tomorrow. Six AM sharp.”

“Six AM,” he said, and then, foolishly, “You know, I can see why he likes you.”

Kathy dimpled. “Oh, likewise!” She tossed him another smile and then she was heading out of sight down the hallway, shoes clacking rhythmically on the tile.

“Well,” said Cosmo to no one. He felt pole-axed, he decided. He wasn’t sure he had ever felt pole-axed in his life before, but there was no other word for it.

He played a chord, then another chord, then a few more.

“Pole-axed,” he sang, “out of whack, when you are near there’s only one drawback: I can’t be clever, no I lack the knack, Darling, I’m pole-axed, out of whack around you!”

It wasn’t exactly Cole Porter, but he’d take it, he thought, reaching for his pen. There was still an hour or two left before he’d need to race traffic home and dig out his suitcase. Apparently, he had early morning plans.

(ETA: if you didn't see, there is now a second part here!)

(ETA THE SECOND: the whole finished thing is now here!

#singin in the rain ot3 #i might write more idk but listen like you can probably imagine the rest of it #old-timey polyamorous shenanigans on a boat #pretty straightforward stuff #there's singing there's dancing and somehow don managed to 'accidentally' book cosmo in an adjoining bedroom etc etc

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hotvintagepoll · 1 month

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Propaganda

Judy Garland (Meet Me In St. Louis, A Star is Born, Summer Stock)— Judy is the GOAT when it comes to classic movie musicals. The voice of an angel who deserved so much better than she got. She can sing she can dance she can act she's a triple threat. Though she had a turbulent personal life (her treatment as a child star by the studio system makes me mad as hell like Louis b Mayer fight me ((she was made to believe that she was physically unattractive by the constant criticism of film executives who made her feel ugly and who manipulated her onscreen appearance by capping her teeth and using discs in her nose to change its shape and Mayer called her "my little hunchback" like imagine hearing that as a child and not having damage)) she always goddamn delivered on screen and in any performance she gave. She began in vaudeville performing with her sisters and was signed to MGM at 13. Starting out in supporting parts especially paired with mickey Rooney in a bunch of films (she's the best part tbh) she eventually transferred to the lead role. She is best known for her starring role in movie musicals like the iconic Wizard of Oz (somewhere over the rainbow still hits hard and is ranked the top film song of all time), meet me in St. Louis (Judy singing have your self a merry little Christmas brings tears to the eyes she is that powerful), the Harvey girls (she looks like a technicolor dream and sings a catchy af song about trains), Easter parade ( dancing and singing with Fred Astaire), for me and my gal, the pirate, and summer stock ( with pal Gene Kelly who she helped when he was starting out and he helped her when she was struggling). But she also does non- singing just as well like the clock ( her first movie where she sings no songs and is an underrated ww2 era romance), her Oscar nominated a star is born ( like the man that got away she put her whole soul in that and I have beef with the fact she lost to grace kelly ((whom I love but like still not even her best work)), and judgement at Nuremberg (a courtroom drama about the nazi war criminal trials). Outside of film she made concert appearances to record-breaking audiences, released 8 studio albums, and had her own Emmy-nominated tv series. She was the youngest (39) and first female recipient of the Cecil B DeMille award for lifetime achievement in the film industry. Girl was a lifelong democrat and was a financial and moral supporter of many causes including the civil rights movement (she was at the March on Washington and held a press conference to protest the 16th street Baptist church bombings). She was a friend of the Kennedy family and would call jfk weekly often ending the calls by singing the first few lines of somewhere over the rainbow (she thought of them as Gemini twins).She was a member of the committee for the first amendment which was formed in response to the HUAC investigations. Though she died far too young and tragically she remains an icon for her work and her life. As a girl who didn't feel like i was as pretty as everyone else I have always felt a connection to Judy and I just really love her.

Patsy Kelly (The Countess of Monte Cristo, Merrily We Live, Topper Returns)—patsy kelly was a character actress best known for her brash wisecracking best friend roles, first appearing in a series of comedy shorts with thelma todd and then in a number of feature films. she was openly gay (lovers included tallulah bankhead), even candidly referring to herself as a dyke to the press on occasion and declaring she didn't intend to marry.

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Patsy Kelly:

Oh, that wry little smile! She could sing. She could dance. She could do comedy and drama. Her mother enrolled her in dancing school to distract her from playing baseball and trying to become a firefighter. At the height of her career, she burned the whole thing down (heh) by answering a reporter's softball question about why she never married with "Because I'm a dyke." She became Tallulah Bankhead's "private secretary" and by the 1960s, she was once again a prominent character actress. Remember Laura-Louise in "Rosemary's Baby"?

Judy Garland:

Judy's voice alone qualifies her for at least top ten hottest HOT VINTAGE MOVIE WOMEN. She was a truly incredible swing singer, with a stunning voice on top of her technique. Her short dark hair looked incredible in just about any style. Have I mentioned her swagger? I can’t do it justice with words. She had swagger. She was funny as hell, and clever too. Incredibly charming and cool. I adore her.

Her eyes, her voice have bewitched me

I mean how can you beat the one and only Judy? She's beautiful, her smile is contagious, the way she sings with her whole body. You can't help but love her.

youtube

Beautiful woman, love her singing voice. And she can do everything between happy or silly and angry or heartbroken

#patsy kelly #judy garland #hotvintagepoll #ladies 1 #fuck that old woman

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renthony · 11 months

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I haven't enjoyed a Marvel movie since I stopped bothering to keep up with the MCU in 2014. I don't care for most Marvel movies. I think Marvel Studios is a case study in things that are shitty in the entertainment industry. But holy shit, pretentious posts along the lines of "haha, I don't watch Marvel films, I have real taste, go watch another movie!" are so fucking annoying.

Like, go put up your middle finger at some preps or something. People are allowed to watch whatever they want and enjoy whatever movies they want and make whatever fandom stuff they want, and that doesn't say anything about their intelligence or morals or character. It doesn't mean they are somehow bad at watching movies, or are too stupid to realize whatever nugget of wisdom ye high-and-mighty Marvel Haters think you're the only ones to understand.

Again, not personally a Marvel fan, but this whole "haha, I'm better than Marvel fans" relates to something I've been musing on about media analysis as a whole. There is a persistent idea that mass entertainment is inherently lower quality or less artistic because it's made for a wide audience, and that bad art isn't worth analyzing or engaging with just because it's low quality. In this mindset, the only art that has the possibility to be any good at all is 100% independent projects made by amateurs, and anything produced by a studio or with wide appeal is inherently poser art with absolutely nothing meaningful to say. In this mindset, you can't possibly learn anything or take anything from bad art, and if you find meaning in bad art, you're clearly just stupid and uneducated and have bad taste.

The thing is? Liking bad art is not a sin. Having a different opinion about what constitutes "bad art" is not a sin. Finding something entertaining despite its flaws is not a sin. Studying bad art is not a sin. You can learn a lot from bad art, you can learn a lot from interpreting propaganda, you can learn a lot from engaging with things even if you don't think they're very "good."

My vaudeville research keeps turning up author after author who talks about vaudeville as some sort of "point of no return," like the performing arts all turned to shit the second things were intended to be seen by more than a single audience for a single show. Popularity gets equated with lack of skill or quality, because all the performers were "just pandering to the audience" instead of relying on "real skill."

For one, what the fuck does that even mean, but for two, the theatrical quality of vaudeville isn't what makes it interesting and worth engaging with. Every single thing that ever came out of vaudeville could be 100% total utter garbage, but vaudeville would still be worth studying because of how influential it still is on arts and entertainment today. It has significant historical and educational merit. And some of it is still genuinely fun and entertaining, once you pick out all the things that didn't age well or were just plain bigoted. There's artistic merit in those old sketches and songs, and there's meaning to be drawn from plenty of it even here in 2023.

You want to learn about the Hays Code? Well, let's talk about how early films were shown on projectors on vaudeville stages, so vaudeville censorship went on to influence American film censorship. Let's talk about how we still use slang to this day that originated on vaudeville, such as "skit" or "one night stand" or "ad lib" or "the big time." Vaudeville is still in the bones of the modern American entertainment industry and pop culture, and you can't really escape that influence.

People in modern day use Marvel movies as proof that big studio films are singlehandedly responsible for the decline of art, and there is nothing to learn from them or see in them at all, ever. But to me, "Marvel movies are bad" is such a flat, uninteresting observation, because when it comes to media analysis, it doesn't really matter if Marvel films are good or entertaining. If you want to actually dig into the problems with big-budget summer Hollywood blockbusters, and the way they're impacting the industry as a whole, you have to go deeper than "pop culture is all stupid stuff for stupid people, unlike me, who isn't like other girls actually has good taste in media!"

There are so many more factors at play than "mass entertainment = bad art." Let's look at the ways capitalism screws over small creators and forces them to seek funding from the very same studios that fuck them over. Let's talk about how the actual workers in the industry are fighting tooth and fucking nail against the exact same things all the Marvel haters harp on about. Let's talk about studios that accept funding from the United States Government to turn superhero comics into propaganda films, and then threaten the actual workers with never having a career again if they complain or quit. Let's talk about how the actors are regularly abused and treated to hostile work environments.

Let's talk about the people who made the films, because the films were not made by a CEO pressing the "make movie" button. The workers made those films. The workers were exploited by those studios. Let's try giving a shit about them, instead of taking the "haha, Marvel fans are stupid and cringe" route.

There is so much more fucking nuance and detail and conversation about mass media as a topic, and boiling it down to, "art made for a wide audience is inherently shitty and has nothing to say."

You're not a better, more intelligent, more educated person just because you don't like Marvel movies. Making posts about how much better you are than Marvel fans does nothing to either explain or tackle the issues in the entertainment industry.

It just makes you look like a dickhead.

#original post

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hlkproductions · 1 month

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behold, the hazbin oc i forgot to post here after debuting her on twitter! Vixen Dupont is a vaudeville performer of the roaring 20's who, after dying in a tragic electrical fire in the studio she worked out of with her fellow dancers, learned that she and the girls had been condemned to hell on hot wheels for what none of them could justifiably conceive the cause. Eventually, she took the initiative to seek out a means of making an after-living for herself and her friends, dabbling in the rising popularity of the Pride Ring's exclusively sinner based entertainment scene. Through a number of unfortunate events and charity courtesy of a friendship with Hell's newest creepy crawly, The Radio Demon, Vixen shook herself free of her exploitative career and went on to build her own business in another Overlord's territory. The Silk Paw, a club for the weary soul longing for times gone by and a touch of softness after the inferno, is her current pride and joy. Her relations with Alastor remain purely speculation to the public at large, and for a decade or so managed to die down. His return to the spotlight now turns the rumor mill once more, and the hotel he sees fit to busy himself with becomes an interest of his old friend's to the point that Vixen decides it would be profitable for all parties if she became a sponsor of Princess Charlie's endeavors.

#my art #my oc #hazbin hotel #hazbin oc #alastor #radio demon #yknow im mildly hesitant to tag it oc canon bc people get real mean real fast but #2024 is my villain era #oc x canon #lucifer morningstar #bc he's also here technically #dont worry im making a separate post for him in a bit

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terry-perry · 7 days

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It’s not original but I have a feeling you’d be great at writing a Flapper AU between Alaster and Reader who’s a flapper/singer

Original or not, it was still fun to write!

Alastor came down to the club like any other Friday night. Normally these visits passed in a whirl as the joint remained all night with jovial noises like the clinking of full glasses and loud laughter. That night, however, was different in one small yet significant way. Amid the dim lighting and senseless chatter that most men seemed to be the reason for while their female companions sat in aloofness, there was brightness onstage that Alastor couldn't look away from. The brightness came in the form of you in an alluring red ensemble singing about the fleeting nature of material wealth and the relationships that come and go with it.

With a voice like yours, Alastor felt he might need to check your back for wings. He settled for asking about you.

"Mimzy, who is that delectable creature?" He said to his friend who sat with him at their usual table. His eyes never left the lovely singer onstage, so Mimzy couldn't help but feel smug as she answered him. "That's Y/N, the newest talent here. They've got quite a set of pipes on them, huh?"

"Indeed..." was all Alastor could mutter, continuing to stare at you dazedly. You had finished the Vaudeville-blues-style song you started with and were about to slow things down with a softer tune about not knowing what to do after your love was gone.

Before this second song, however, Alastor could've sworn you peered over at his table and met his eyes. You must've because as he smiled, you winked before returning your attention to everyone else. The men had hollered at your sultry act and went nuts at the flirtatious move you pulled that was only meant for him.

He wasn't too pleased about this attention you were receiving from others. This was the first time such a thing had happened to him. There was an overwhelming desire to possess you. The shortness of breath and flooding through his body had him understand this was classic jealousy at play. When you gave him that quick wink and tiny smile that was met with such ungentlemanly calls, he was ready to kill anyone who touched you, who tried to take you away from him.

Nothing was going to stop him from owning you.

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shewhoworshipscarlin · 3 months

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Victoria Spivey

Victoria Regina Spivey (October 15, 1906 – October 3, 1976), sometimes known as Queen Victoria, was an American blues singer, songwriter, and record company founder. During a recording career that spanned 40 years, from 1926 to the mid-1960s, she worked with Louis Armstrong, King Oliver, Clarence Williams, Luis Russell, Lonnie Johnson, and Bob Dylan. She also performed in vaudeville and clubs, sometimes with her sister Addie "Sweet Peas" (or "Sweet Pease") Spivey (August 22, 1910 – 1943). also known as the Za Zu Girl. Among her compositions are "Black Snake Blues" (1926), "Dope Head Blues" (1927), and "Organ Grinder Blues" (1928). In 1961, she co-founded Spivey Records with one of her husbands, Len Kunstadt.

Born in Houston, Texas, she was the daughter of Grant and Addie (Smith) Spivey. Her father was a part-time musician and a flagman for the railroad; her mother was a nurse. She had three sisters, all three of whom also sang professionally: Leona, Elton "Za Zu", and Addie "Sweet Peas" (or "Sweet Pease") Spivey (August 22, 1910 – 1943), who recorded for several major record labels between 1929 and 1937, and Elton Island Spivey Harris (1900–1971). She married four times; her husbands included Ruben Floyd, Billy Adams, and Len Kunstadt, with whom she co-founded Spivey Records in 1961.

Spivey's first professional experience was in a family string band led by her father in Houston. After he died, the seven-year-old Victoria played on her own at local parties. In 1918, she was hired to accompany films at the Lincoln Theater in Dallas. As a teenager, she worked in local bars, nightclubs, and buffet flats, mostly alone, but occasionally with singer-guitarists, including Blind Lemon Jefferson. In 1926 she moved to St. Louis, Missouri, where she was signed by Okeh Records. Her first recording, "Black Snake Blues" (1926), sold well, and her association with the label continued. She recorded numerous sides for Okeh in New York City until 1929, when she switched to the Victor label. Between 1931 and 1937, more recordings followed for Vocalion Records and Decca Records, and, working out of New York, she maintained an active performance schedule. Her recorded accompanists included King Oliver, Charles Avery, Louis Armstrong, Lonnie Johnson, and Red Allen.

The Depression did not put an end to Spivey's musical career. She found a new outlet for her talent in 1929, when the film director King Vidor cast her to play Missy Rose in his first sound film, Hallelujah!. Through the 1930s and 1940s Spivey continued to work in musical films and stage shows, including the hit musical Hellzapoppin (1938), often with her husband, the vaudeville dancer Billy Adams.

In 1951, Spivey retired from show business to play the pipe organ and lead a church choir, but she returned to secular music in 1961, when she was reunited with an old singing partner, Lonnie Johnson, to appear on four tracks on his Prestige Bluesville album Idle Hours.

The folk music revival of the 1960s gave her further opportunities to make a comeback. She recorded again for Prestige Bluesville, sharing an album, Songs We Taught Your Mother, with fellow veterans Alberta Hunter and Lucille Hegamin, and began making personal appearances at festivals and clubs, including the 1963 European tour of the American Folk Blues Festival.

In 1961, Spivey and the jazz and blues historian Len Kunstadt launched Spivey Records, a low-budget label dedicated to blues, jazz, and related music.

In March 1962, Spivey and Big Joe Williams recorded for Spivey Records, with harmonica accompaniment and backup vocals by Bob Dylan. The recordings were released on Three Kings and the Queen and Kings and the Queen Volume Two. Dylan was listed under his own name on the record covers. A picture of her and Dylan from this period is shown on the back cover of the Dylan album, New Morning. In 1964, Spivey made her only recording with an all-white band, the Connecticut-based Easy Riders Jazz Band, led by the trombonist Big Bill Bissonnette. It was released first on an LP and later re-released on compact disc.

Spivey married four times; her husbands included Ruben Floyd, Billy Adams, and Len Kunstadt.

Spivey died in New York on October 3, 1976, at the age of 69, from an internal hemorrhage.

#historical #black history month #singer

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newyorkthegoldenage · 6 months

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Above: the sheet music for Shakin' the Blues Away. Photo: ebay

The Ziegfeld Follies of 1927 was the first Follies to feature a star performer--Eddie Cantor--and the first to have all its songs written by a single composer--Irving Berlin. Although it received tepid reviews ("His formula has never failed," wrote Time magazine. "But as nothing subscribes more unreservedly to the law of diminishing returns than [a] succession of splendors, this last superbly heralded Follies achieves only another anticlimax."), it was a hit, running for 167 performances from 1927-28.

In addition to Cantor (who appeared in nearly half the numbers), the show featured Claire Luce, Cliff Edwards (aka Ukelele Ike; 13 years later he was the voice of Jiminy Cricket in Disney's Pinocchio), Ruth Etting, and the Brox Sisters.

"Shakin' the Blues Away" was the show's big number, and Etting made her breakout appearance leading it.

Above: Shakin' the Blues Away, led by Ruth Etting. Photo: Songbook

There was also a jungle scene with live animals, in which Luce entered riding an ostrich. One night the bird left the stage in a flurry and, instead of depositing Luce in the wings, kept on walking, out the stage door and onto West 43rd St.

Below is the first page of the program for the October 17, 1927 performance. Note the sententious legend, "He who glorifies beauty glorifies truth." Would Keats have approved?

Above: the first page of the program for Oct. 17, 1927. Photo: Playbill

The 1927 Follies was the last of 21 annual shows. It was revived briefly in 1931, but didn't continue. The Follies were essentially vaudeville, only much more sumptuous. Later in 1927, Ziegfeld produced Show Boat at his own theater, and it heralded a change in Broadway musicals.

#vintage New York #1920s #Florenz Ziegfeld #Ziegfeld Follies #musical revues #Follies #Broadway musicals #vintage Broadway #Eddie Cantor #Irving Berlin #Claire Luce #Ruth Etting #Ukelele Ike #Brox Sisters

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queenie435 · 2 months

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FIRST SUCCESSFUL FEMALE STANDUP COMEDIAN

Loretta Mary Aiken (March 19, 1897 – May 23, 1975), known by her stage name Jackie "Moms" Mabley, was the first successful female standup comedian and had a career that spanned over 50 years. Moms bridged the gap between vaudeville and modern stand up comedy. She was also the first woman comic to be feature at the Apollo theater and Carnegie Hall in 1962.

Moms Mabley was born Loretta Mary Aiken in Brevard, North Carolina, to a large family. She experienced a horrifying, traumatic childhood. Her firefighter father was killed in an explosion when she was 11 and her mother was later hit and killed by a truck on Christmas Day. By the time she was fifteen she had borne two children resulting from sexual assaults: the first by a neighbour when she was twelve, and the second, two years later by a local sheriff. Her stepfather, who had remained her guardian, gave both children up for adoption and then forced Moms to marry a much older man who she despised.

Aiken left home at the age of 14 and pursued a show business career, joining the African-American vaudeville circuit(aka Chitlin' Circuit)as a comedian under the Theatre Owners Booking Association, Fellow performer Jack Mabley became her boyfriend for a short time, and she took on his name, becoming Jackie Mabley, with "Moms" coming from her eventual reputation as a mentoring, mothering spirit.

Moms saw an opportunity to try out her own voice, and discovered that she was a natural at singing, dancing and telling a joke. Especially telling a joke. She realized she had something that many of her contemporaries didn’t - original material. Since her sheltered life had hampered any introduction to current comedy routines, Moms inevitably began to craft authentic pieces based on her own experiences, much of it based on Granny’s pearls of wisdom.

Moms talked to her audience as if they were her children. She delivered superbly solemn routines, original in their time yet amazingly, never bettered. As soon as Moms delivered her opening line “I 'gots' something to tell you...” she immediately captured the attention of everyone in the room - and those rooms were full for over fifty years.

By the early 1920s she had begun to work with the duo Butterbeans & Susie, and eventually became an attraction at the Cotton Club. Mabley entered the world of film and stage as well, working with writer Zora Neale Hurston on the 1931 Broadway show "Fast and Furious: A Colored Revue in 37 Scenes" and taking on a featured role in Paul Robeson's "Emperor Jones" (1933).

Starting in the late 1930s, Mabley became the first woman comedian to be featured at the Apollo, going on to appear on the theater's stage more times than any other performer. She returned to the big screen as well with "The Big Timers" (1945), "Boarding House Blues" (1948), and the musical revue "Killer Diller" (1948), which featured Nat King Cole and Butterfly McQueen.

By the late 1950s Moms Mabley was one of the highest-paid comics in the US, making $10,000 a week. Mabley's standup routines were riotous affairs augmented by the aesthetic she presented as being an older, housedress-clad figure who provided sly commentary on racial bigotry to African-American audiences. Her jokes also pointed towards a lusty zest for younger men.

Mabley began a recording career with her Chess Records debut album "The Funniest Woman Alive," which became gold-certified. Subsequent albums like "Moms Mabley at the Playboy Club," "Moms Mabley at the UN" and "Young Men, Si - Old Men, No" continued to broaden Mabley's reach (she ultimately recorded many albums). She landed spots on some of the top variety shows of the day, including "The Ed Sullivan Show," and graced the stage of Carnegie Hall.

Mabley continued performing in the 1970s. In 1971, she appeared on The Pearl Bailey Show. Later that year, she opened for Ike & Tina Turner at the Greek Theatre and sang a tribute to Louis Armstrong as part of her set.

Mobley had a starring role in the 1974 picture "Amazing Grace," which she was able to complete despite having a heart attack during filming.

Over the course of her life, Mabley had six children: Bonnie, Christine, Charles, and Yvonne Ailey, and two placed for adoption when she was a teenager. She died from heart failure on May 23, 1975, in White Plains, New York.

Actress Clarice Taylor, who portrayed Bill Cosby's mother on "The Cosby Show" and was a major fan of Mabley's work, staged the 1987 play "Moms at the Astor Place Theater, in which she portrayed the trailblazing icon.

Fellow comedian Whoopi Goldberg made her directorial debut with the documentary "Moms Mabley: I Got Somethin' to Tell You, which was presented at the Tribeca Film Festival and aired on HBO in 2013.

#black history month #black history #comdey #comedian #Loretta Mary Aiken #carnegie hall #vaudeville #Jackie Moms Mabley

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powderblueblood · 28 days

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Is there ever a time where Nicole, Cass, Heather,or even Carol start missing Lacy????

Like maybe they miss there old friend????

(and i’m gonna fold your other anon in here as well my love) but god have i been waiting to talk about this one.

because if we’re going to talk about girlhood, we’re going to talk about grief.

because for all the vaudeville of her high school persona, all that borrowed high wire performance where she pretended to be just the right girl with all the right moves, lacy was just that. lacy was a girl, and nicole was a girl, and cass, and heather, and tina, and god, carol. carol was a girl.

carol might miss lacy the worst of all.

grief finds carol at the perfume counter of the department store, pouring over crystalline glass and her red hair smelling of candied roses. she catches a whiff of a powdery vanilla with a spicy blowback and her heart pounds.

“you can’t wear an empire waist to junior prom, care. you know what the headline on that will be? shotgun wedding.”

“hm. maybe the sooner i lock it down with tommy, the better.”

carol had watched as lacy’s fist tightened around skirts of chiffon, eyes flashing.

“you’re not seriously threatening to beaver trap him?”

“no… but. you know. it has to happen. it’s what’s supposed to happen. right? mrs hagan, three kids, two dogs, white picket.”

carol swayed in her dress, a periwinkle blue that washed her out, as lacy hovered in the near background. an apparition in the mirror.

“it doesn’t have to be just that, you know. you don’t… have to want that.”

because lacy had been the one to hear carol cry when tommy cheated on her the first time, and the fourth and the fifth. lacy had been the first one to push back when she and tommy got back together, like two leeches latching onto one another, returning to parasitic bliss. told carol she was humiliating herself, the way she kept doing this.

“better to be humiliated with a boyfriend than single with a stick up my ass, lacy.”

“i’m gonna remember you said that the next time he comes crying to you all guilty and hungover and you come crying to me, telling me he did it again.”

she didn’t, though. for whatever reason, lacy never threw that back in her face until she absolutely had to.

of all the prize fighting bitches carol had managed to collect, lacy was her favourite. lacy could go toe to toe with anyone, even nicole on her good days. tina was nothing but drop dead jealous of her and cass regarded her with an admirable intimidation. heather was the one who started the rumor about her having a combination lock on her pussy, but carol just loved her. being with lacy felt like strutting on a knife’s edge; carol couldn’t explain it, but it felt like being somebody. lacy had that aura about her. you felt important just by being in her orbit.

she’d haul carol in when she was being too much of an unrepentant bitch and call it a lesson in class.

“never give them more than they deserve, care. don’t sully yourself by dignifying trash.”

lacy never sunk to anyone’s level—she never sunk, until carol’s fist collided with her face at harrington’s that night. watching her get hauled off by that munson freak, her limbs thrashing toward her, desperate to retaliate, carol’s stomach roiled with two distinct kinds of shame—one, at the humiliation lacy’s betrayal had put upon her, what with her running her mouth about tina and tommy and crabs and all. and two, carol’s betrayal of lacy.

because she never did sink, not with anything that was going on. and carol never thought to check on how hard she was working to keep water out of the boat. lacy would have done it for her. whether she wanted to or not. it’s just what you do.

she should have held lacy’s hand and cradled her head and let her crash at her place when her old man got scary. it’s just what you do.

carol would catch glimpses of lacy snaking throughout the hallways these days, in her darkened outfits and berried lips, sharing some blast of static with that piece of long-haired forest hills trailer trash. looking like someone had switched on a light inside her, despite it all. carol would angrily tut, the only thing filling the deadened air between her and tommy.

grief chokes carol up at the perfume counter of the department store and she realises that she misses having a girl who makes her feel like somebody tell her what not to wear.

#powder room talk #anonymous #hai brainrot

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opera-ghosts · 2 months

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Edith Helena - Verdi: Il TROVATORE, Tacea la notte placida, 1913 High E-flat

THE SONGBIRD: Edith Helena (1876–1956) was born in Brooklyn as Edith Helen Seymour, however her stage name became the Italian-sounding Edith Helena. Her mother had been a singer for the Mapleson company and her grandfather was an actor. Helena's rise to fame came through vaudeville from 1902 to 1909, where she specialized in high florid singing and violin imitations (performing melodies in a high, smooth vocalise style -- you can find a few of these novelty recordings posted on YouTube.). In 1910 she joined the Aborn Grand Opera Company and toured until 1917 singing roles such as Gilda, Violetta, Lucia, and Martha, as well as Aida, Butterfly, and Elsa of Brabant. Helena sang leading roles with the Century Opera Company from 1918 to 1921 and then returned to vaudeville until she retired in 1929.

THE MUSIC: Verdi's "Il Trovatore" premiered in Rome in 1853 and became his most popular opera for decades. There were 229 productions worldwide in the three years following its premiere. It still considered a staple of the standard repertoire and ranks 22nd on the list of most performed operas worldwide according to Operabase.com. Leonora, the prima donna, is a noble woman who falls in love with the troubadour Manrico, which inflames the jealous Count di Luna. Her first aria is the dreamy "Tacea la notte placida," which is followed by a perky and somewhat pecky florid cabaletta "Di tale amor." The score tops out at High C, but Helena throws in a High E-flat, just for good measure!

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cliozaur · 9 months

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At the beginning of this chapter, Marius notices too many ominous things: a sinister silence in the Thénardiers’ room, “a reddish glow which seemed bloody”, an atmosphere akin to that of a sepulchre, and he perceives his neighbour’s family like “wolf whelps in the absence of the wolf”. It’s truly astonishing how Marius had not noticed their presence earlier. Because now he can hear distinctly every movement and every step from his neighbours’ room!

My hatred towards Thénardier resurges. He returns home and declares, “my feet are beastly cold.” Are they, really? At least you have boots to ward off the chill, unlike your girls who wander barefoot! And his empty promises of a prosperous future "tomorrow" are equally irksome!

On the other hand, Éponine in Marius’ room is a delight. Apparently, everyone in the Gorbeau house knows that he doesn’t lock his door, and they come and go at will. Éponine is there on her own (or so she thinks), revelling in the simple joys that a young girl should: preening herself, singing, and humming. I genuinely appreciate this side of her. If memory serves me right, Éponine is one of the characters who sings the most. Her first song (in this chapter) is from a popular vaudeville of the 1830s (it is not surprising, as she is a theatre lover). Oh, It warms my heart that she has finally defied her father's orders and refrained from inspecting the room – not because I'm concerned about Marius, but simply because it's the right thing for her to do!

#les mis letters #lm 3.8.16 #les miserables #marius pontmercy #eponine #thenardier

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hotvintagepoll · 25 days

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Propaganda

Gloria Swanson (Don't Change Your Husband, Queen Kelly, Sadie Thompson, Sunset Boulevard)—the absolute BALLS this woman had! an icon of the 1920s, her career had simmered down, decent living in radio, deciding you know what? you know what i'll do? I'll star as the haggard old aging decrepit horror icon in Sunset Boulevard, that's what I'll do. Nobody else in Hollywood would take the part (every other actress didn't want to be framed as a has-been)—gloria said, fuck that, I'll eat this role alive and serve cunt the whole time. she was still so gorgeous when they made Sunset Boulevard they had to intentionally make her up/costume her to make her look older than she was. mad respect for the screen legend who says yeah, i am a screen legend, i was always that bitch and here I am again to prove it

Mary Nolan (West of Zanzibar, Desert Nights)—mary nolan had star quality in spades but her career was sadly plagued by tragedy and scandal (though really a lot of what was characterized as "scandal" by the press was more like "men being physically abusive"). she reinvented her career multiple times, first becoming very popular as a ziegfeld girl in the early 1920s under the stage name imogene "bubbles" wilson (said a columnist of the time, "only two people in America would bring every reporter in New York to the docks to see them off. one is the President. the other is Imogene "Bubbles" Wilson.") but after some shit involving a shitty dude got her fired from the follies for negative media attention she went to europe and made films in germany under the name imogene robertson for a few years. in 1927 she accepted the offer of a contract from united artists and returned to the u.s., taking on the stage name mary nolan. she was received favorably in films like west of zanzibar as lon chaney's daughter, and desert nights opposite john gilbert, but she began having difficulty finding work in the early 30s, having at that point acquired a morphine addiction, and she made her final film appearance in 1933, intermittently working in vaudeville and nightclubs. uh well this propaganda ended up super sad but here's a short clip of her in action in a 1930 movie

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman. (remember that our poll era starts in 1910, so please don't use propaganda from before that date.)

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Gloria Swanson:

She was THE idea of a 1920s sex comedy star, and was a hot (and totally unhinged) older woman in Sunset Boulevard. Hot as a young woman and as an older woman? Yes plz

I feel like she would slay in alternative fashion

her performance as Norma Desmond in sunset boulevard makes me insane. I love her

Mary Nolan:

Shockingly modern style of acting! She could pop up today and be a starlette all over again

#mary nolan #gloria swanson #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 2

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wickedsrest-rp · 4 months

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Name: Raisa Paretti Species: Muse Occupation: Actress Age: 119 Years Old (Looks about 35) Played By: Beth Face Claim: Jessica Parker Kennedy

"What better way to rub elbows with royals than to become one yourself?"

TW: Train (trolley) accident

Raisa was born to Katerina Peretti at the tail end of 1904. In a town like Wicked’s Rest, the gossip of a single month could spread far, but Katerina kept her head held high. She’d only been in New York City for a few months. Still, as Raisa grew up, she loved to hear the stories of her mother’s whirlwind romance with a writer named Adè. In the months Katerina spent with him, he wrote what could have been the next Great American Novel. Alas, even a fae could only do so much, and Katerina wasn’t even there to see him get struck by the streetcar. Stuck in Wicked’s Rest as she was, Raisa thought that sounded like the grandest romance—short-lived and tragic but beautiful in its simplicity. And her mother had her to remember it!

As she grew older, Raisa quickly grew bored. She always planned to get out of Wicked’s Rest and did drift away for brief moments throughout her long life. Something about it always pulled her back, though. Every child wants to believe that nothing in their town ever stays the same, although that becomes harder for a teen to believe when they see said town partially disappear in a cataclysmic event.

Still, Raisa couldn’t help feeling that wherever she’d grown up, she couldn’t have asked for a better when. Perhaps she could have done without the 30’s forcing a sensible growing up on her, but at least it helped her see her mother in her prime as she poured her all into cultivating a crop of writers and painters strong enough to scrape a living in the arts at such a desperate time. Raisa vowed to do the same, but she couldn’t be too much like her mother. She turned to the struggling Vaudeville circuit.

Raisa certainly wasn’t the first muse to get involved at the theatre, but perhaps she was the first to make the transition onto the stage and stay there. She’d been booking acts for over forty years—aside from occasional sabbaticals to larger cities where she lived a little more freely while “looking for talent”—before the idea occurred to her. Perhaps she wasn’t the perfect 50s ingénue, but Raisa played a woman scorned like no one’s business. She worked her way up through bit parts, ignoring light warnings from other muses and barely concealed barbs from her mother about the way she was playing with fire.

But Raisa saw no reason to quit. She could take a—albeit much smaller—role across the state, far from Wicked’s Rest. The town would always be here when she got back and felt ready to reemerge onto the theatre scene as a beautiful woman who reminded audiences of a girl they used to see perform ages ago. Now what was her name? Raisa would always smile and say she didn’t know.

Her mother left the area in the 80s, ready to return to larger cities and looking for a place with more sunshine. Raisa thought she ended up in Seattle. Not much for sun, but if it made Katerina happy… Finally, though, her daughter felt like she could grow up out of that shadow. She wasn’t Katerina’s daughter in fae circles anymore, not nearly as quickly on the lips as it used to be. Raisa was a reckoning in her own right, even if it came with a reputation some found foolhardy.

She didn’t particularly care. Raisa’s star was rising. In the fifty years since, she honed her methods into a science. Occasionally she dealt with hunger pains. Occasionally she blurred those lines that she said she never would to the point of truth. But those moments of weakness were behind her. For the first time in years, Raisa was beginning to feel hints of boredom and ennui creep into her days. Perhaps it was the roles. Perhaps it was type to branch out to new types.

Character Facts:

Personality: Driven, obsessive, cunning, confident, brazen, romantic, idealistic, resolute, cutting

She was born on December 29, 1904 and is a Capricorn.

She is bisexual. Raisa doesn’t consider herself someone who loves lightly, but she also isn’t the type to settle in unless she means it.

Raisa doesn’t necessarily strike bargains often. When she inspires, it is often on the downlow—a little feeding from a costar as they rehearse a particularly intense scene or taking in a little extra when she takes a playwright to bed. Even discussing the creative potential of a scene with some of her long-time directors offer Raisa the opportunity to feed in snatches. She can acknowledge that being on stage does carry some risk, so she tries not to mix business with pleasure.

Raisa has lived on Elm Street her whole life, though she moved out of her childhood home long before her mother left town. The neighbors don’t always agree with her choices, but Raisa can bare her teeth in a barbed smile with the best of them.

No matter how long she lives in this town, Raisa knows she’s never going to forget what the town was like before. She had friends assumed dead under the Serpent’s Flat. As far as Raisa is concerned, any time spent on or around it is just asking for trouble.

#bio #taken #taken fae #taken muse #muse #fae #jessica parker kennedy #roxie #train accident tw

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crtter · 1 year

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Hello, you've piqued my interest. Can we hear about Iyami's themes?

Oh man!!! I could talk about him all day! OK so! I’ll try to talk about some of the things that make his characterization so interesting to me! This is probably going to be long and all over the place so I’m going to put it under a readmore.

Iyami’s name means gaudy, disagreeable and he sure is both of these things! Fujio Akatsuka reportedly based him as a character in two sources: Tony Tani, a Japanese vaudevillian who dressed in a very flashy way, spoke in a mock-fancy way and loved dropping random words in English in his speech and… in Charlie Chaplin’s Tramp character! (A character who was also based on vaudeville performers. Iyami’s an entertainer through and through!)

Such a combination made Iyami a very contradictory character. He’s a fashion victim, extremely vain and overdressed in most occasions, liking to follow European fashion to a T. He speaks how he assumes is how rich, sophisticated people speak, and he even goes by his own personal pronoun: the English word me (the French word moi in the English translations of Osomatsu-kun / Osomatsu-san.)

He’s also usually living in poverty, having to resort to tricks and scams to survive. Osomatsu-kun ran according to a “Looney Tunes continuity, which is to say, the characters stay the same but the setting and their relations might change. In the vast majority of stories, though, he’s shown as a not-very-successful con man.

In the story we’re first properly introduced to him he’s an old college friend of the sextuplets’ dad, Matsuzō, and he overstays his welcome something fierce in their house, being completely clueless to the fact everyone wants him to leave. This aspect of his personality has remained consistent throughout all of his characterizations: Iyami is a character who’s awfully oblivious of and doesn’t think much of disregarding Japanese societal norms. As a result, most consider Iyami absolutely unpleasant to be around. Usually, his only friend is Chibita, a street kid he has no blood relation to who he basically raises on his own (although he doesn’t consider himself his father.) One can argue their relationship mirrors the Tramp’s relationship with the kid from the eponymous Charlie Chaplin’s film The Kid.

This very extreme duality aspect of Iyami is seen in other ways sometimes: he seems to be extremely self-assured and self-absorbed but some stories suggest he’s actually deeply self-conscious, usually about his poverty and appearance (which seems to mostly revolve around his overbite). Whenever he has a chance to fully reinvent himself, he usually lunges for it. Despite his unpleasantness as well, he’s also very charismatic, being able to charm just about anyone into complying with his tricks. His overconfidence usually ruins everything before he has a chance to make a run for it with the money, though. And -the duality aspect of his that caught my attention the most- despite the harsh life he lives, Iyami is always upbeat and full of hope for the future.

Here’s some “self-portraits” Iyami drew of himself once. As you can see, this guy looks nothing like him.

This charisma of his made it to the real world. Iyami’s famous pose and catchphrase, the sheeh, became a real life “meme” in the 60s which was repeated everywhere in Japan. Godzilla himself struck it in one of the movies and the Beatles were convinced to strike it when visiting Japan!

Iyami also became a breakout character in the Osomatsu-kun manga, overshadowing the main characters. Osomatsu-san, the 2015 reboot of Osomatsu-kun runs with it, making Iyami yearn for his meta fame of yesteryear and try as much as he can to “become the main character again”, which won’t happen because he’s awfully antiquated by current anime character standards.

Another thing that’s extremely interesting about Iyami in my opinion, which is also his claim to fame besides the sheeh is what I dub “the France thing”. Iyami insists he “is just returning from France” as a way to brag or protest whichever way he’s being currently treated. He repeats this so much it’s an incredibly well-known catchphrase of his, and the way he refers to France (in an inappropriately respectful way, by adding the honorific ō in front of the word) and was previously completely unheard of, is now super well known and used as a joke to this day in Japan.

While it would make sense for Iyami to just randomly claim he’s been to somewhere far away and “exotic” to sound fancy, some stories have suggested that… it’s not quite just that. It seems to be a real coping mechanism for him. Whether it’s for the hardships of his life or something else is unclear. He seems to have truly convinced himself he has been to a highly idealized France and it’s the place where he truly belongs. He even writes Japanese characters in mock cursive and tries to eat using chopsticks as western cutlery.

There’s even a story in which his lies about France are contested by a character who has actually been there and he gets so distraught he starts speaking without his “accent” for the first and only time in the entire 30-odd year run of the manga.

One could argue his fixation on “going to France” is what keeps his optimistic and going through life despite everything. There’s nothing really supporting that, but I personally believe that, at least part of him thinks it’s a place where he’d be more accepted. Where his natural flamboyance wouldn’t be seen as unpleasant and disruptive but celebrated instead. But of course, this one’s just me, heh.

#Answers #Elsinoregirl #Iyami #Osomatsu san #Osomatsu kun

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