the hollywood studios are the dumbest people alive bc now every american city with a large film/TV industry (LA, NYC, Atlanta, etc) are going to be overrun by grown up theatre kids (professional writers and actors) hanging out together in public for months on end with nothing to do but emulate newsies. whole american cities are about to look like the inside of a suburban dennys at 11 pm on a saturday after a high school musical closes. they have trapped millions of people in a hell of unimaginable proportions.
every day i think about that one illegal high school production of les miserables on youtube where they changed lovely ladies from being about sex workers to being about like... selling bread... but they kept all the lines about "waiting for the customers who only come at night" and "standing up or lying down or any way at all" which paints a strange and delightful picture of some kind of nighttime bread black market
can i just say how much i adore how Nao-chan's gender is treated so casually in skip to loafer
like, as a white cis woman who is also quite tall and havent read the manga i didnt even realize she was trans until this scene in ep2:
and i didnt even have the time to get nervous how they would handle this as they already moved on, ignoring the comments (just like queer people learn to do so) except for Mitsumi's comforting touch (implying she also heard the comments):
and there were no sad words or anything about this either, it was just handled so.... normally. which should not be something worth highlighting, but, well, you know. also on that note, special shoutout to P.A. Works for casting a woman as her voice actor as well.
she's shown being the supportive and lively aunt and like seconds later in this scene she's back to being her usual self again:
detail i didn't catch until i giffed this scene: louis noticing his unhealed self-inflicted bite wound from earlier that night (with jonah) and quickly moving his wrist out of lestat's sight.
Thinking about Carpe Diem and the cinematography of falling leaves to falling snow.
Seasons as cyclical as generations. It's tapestries and banners. It’s photographs on the wall. A structure, a system; tradition in the bones of buildings and boys.
There's a choice to be made - Nolan's hollow, ceremonial Light of Knowledge, or Neil's scavenged, man-made God of the Cave?
They’re children living for the future through a lens of past. Fireside stories embraced by woodland caves. They chant, dance, and recite from a sacred book - the heirloom they claim from a father they chose.
The window is finally open, but time froze at Welton lake. Forever winter. Forever youth. A moment in time, a feeling, a community turned to dust.
It's all so fleeting. Carpe Diem. Teenage years, childhood, a lifetime in three months. It’s a tragedy of classical epics.
The tale is old, but this wound is fresh. Falling to your knees. Shouting at the sky, praying and wailing, and clutching at the earth.