#which is technically true. i like movie scores

[rabbithaver]

they asked if i have music preferences so they could play something during the surgery. and there is no easy way to say my favorite band is called Ninja Sex Party so i just said "classical"

#which is technically true. i like movie scores #the interstellar soundtrack lives in my brain #terin.txt #it was either that or 'i really like symphonic metal' #im gonna be sedated so it's not like it matters lmfao

[mangoisms]

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter five: i am found on the ground | read chapter four

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 4.5k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

━ a/n: if you'd like to see my notes (and my thoughts behind a certain inclusion of a character in this chapter), you can find them here <3 (also i'm on fire is playing in the last scene the formatting of the lyrics just killed me so i had to get rid of it thank you all)

“You just can’t beat it.”

“It was okay.”

You turn sharply to look at Tim, who shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. 

In the kitchen, Steph snorts. “Here we go.”

You ignore her. “Okay? Inception was okay—”

“Uncalled for—”

“But true. This?” You gesture to his flatscreen TV, where the end credits for Interstellar are playing; you’re a little bit red-eyed from the end scenes with Cooper and Murph but no less passionate. “This is more than okay. It’s—”

“Not technically scientifically accurate.”

You grab a pillow and gently whack him with it. He tries to hide a growing smile. You don’t understand what exactly he’s smiling at but you don’t care in this moment.

“It’s not about scientific accuracy, duck boy, it’s about love.”

“Yeah!” Steph yells from the kitchen. “Go love! Woo!”

You gesture in her direction. “He literally said it in the movie, Tim. How can you miss it? And Brand, too!”

“It wasn’t enough to save who she loved, though,” he points out—ever the devil’s advoactate, honestly…

“But it was there and she knew that, too, and she was okay with it. And it was enough for Cooper and Murph, too. I mean, literally to the point that she was able to save humanity. Right? Brand said it—love is the one thing we are capable of perceiving that transcends dimensions of time and space.”

Tim looks… well, far from upset or annoyed. He seems amused, almost… almost fond, the way he looks at you, but it’s too much for you to handle, so you look away, pouting a little.

“And also, okay, I know entering the black hole wasn’t ‘scientifically accurate’ but that’s the point, that some higher being switched them out so he didn’t die. You do have to admit, however, that the depiction of the black hole, which I’ll give Nolan props for, was great.”

“Okay, true,” he concedes. “The score was pretty good, too.”

“It was excellent.”

Steph steps out from the kitchen, looking at her phone. “Give me a sec, you guys, my mom’s calling me.”

You both give her an affirmative and she steps out the front door. You and Tim quickly resume your discussion.

“Inception’s score was good, too,” he points out. 

“Bah. They both had Zimmer. Of course it’s going to be good. But Interstellar has the benefit of being enhanced by it because it’s already a good movie. I mean, it surprises even me that Nolan could manage to pull off something like this.”

“He has the range,” Tim protests. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, you Nolan stan. I’m still a bit hung-up on you saying it’s just ‘okay.’ I mean, sure, it could just be me projecting my own grief about my dead parents onto the story about a dad crossing space and time to get back to his daughter but still!”

That’s the understatement of the century. The scenes between Cooper and an old Murph never fail to make you tear up. Any of the scenes between them, really. 

The prolonged silence from Tim tips you off and it’s only when you look at him do you realize your mistake.

His eyes are wide as he looks at you, surprised, with something else. 

“Oh, it’s fine—”

“Your parents are—”

You both stop. 

You clear your throat, waving a hand. “It’s fine. I… I mean, sorry if it made you uncomfortable, I joke about it sometimes.”

“No,” he says. “It’s okay. It just surprised me. I guess… I don’t want to—I mean—I’m, uh, sorry?”

You shift on the couch, turning more toward him. “It’s okay. It was… well, not that long ago, but—”

You stop, because your instinctive response is ‘I’m over it’ but that’s not totally true, is it? You don’t think you’ll ever be over it. One part of you still feels horribly robbed of them, and some days, their deaths feel so monumental you can barely get through the day, while others, you can function normally for the most part. 

“No, I understand,” he says softly. “My parents, too. My mom when I was younger but my dad died when I was sixteen. It’s… not really something you get over, I think. No matter how much time passes.”

A quiet moment between you. It’s not like he’s tried to make you feel ostracized—if anything he’s gone out of his way to make you feel welcomed here, to make sure he and Steph don’t get too caught up on their own and they include you—but… This is a common thread between you and you know he knows and you know he knows you know. 

“Yeah… Yeah, exactly.” You pause, glancing at the TV, where the credits are rolling now. “It happened when I was fifteen. The, um, earthquake.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again and you know he means it. 

“I’m sorry about yours, too.”

Tim nods, the look on his face still soft, still gentle, then he glances back at the TV. 

“I was kidding, you know,” he says next. “It, uh, really was good. Better than I thought it would be. Scientific inaccuracy aside…”

“It’s good,” you press, ignoring the last comment. “And I don’t think it was trying to fool anyone into scientific accuracy.”

“Also true. I just…”

“Wasn’t expecting it to hit that hard?” you guess, smiling. “Yeah, I get it. Cried like a baby when I first saw it. You’re stronger than me for getting through it dry-eyed.”

“Oh, I’m just waiting for later,” he says. “Saving my sorrows for my pillow. That kind of thing.”

You laugh loudly. He smiles. 

“It does unearth all the dead parent trauma, though,” he says. 

“Oh, tell me about it. Cooper wanting to try to go back home after they find out Dr. Brand never intended to help those on earth…”

“And then having to sacrifice himself to give Brand a chance,” he finishes, shaking his head. “Only for it to turn out well in the end. If only real life was like that.”

A shade too dark for right now but you can’t say you disagree. 

The front door opens. Steph slips back inside, raising an eyebrow at you two. Though she hardly means what you think she means, you find yourself inching away from Tim, turning back forward slightly. You’d hate to give her the wrong impression.

And of course, that is not at all what she is thinking about.

“Why do you two look like someone just died?”

“Well, we were just talking about our dead parents, so,” Tim responds without missing a beat.

You burst out laughing. Steph groans. 

“I was wrong. You two shouldn’t be friends.”

“It’s too late for that, I think,” Tim says, grinning. 

You can’t help but grin, too.

She groans again.

Catwoman is your next vigilante visitor.

All skin-tight latex and a coquettish attitude that makes your face hot.

Luckily, she doesn’t appear to mind. She even pays for her stuff. 

(“I was told,” she purrs. “And I don’t much like being told what to do but… you’re cute enough to convince me to go along with it.”

You don’t think the noise you made was human but it amused her enough.)

Alongside that, you have the others who regularly drop by. Your vigilantes, but then, as you pick up a few weekend afternoon shifts (much to Steph’s disapproval), some normal faces, too.

Barbara, a red-haired woman with sharp green eyes who has a stately and intimidating aura to her but is always pleasant when you two chat. Sometimes she has another woman with her, a pretty blond Barbara calls D. Then, that one man, the stocky blonde with the tortoise-shell glasses and a quiet but kind disposition, who eventually introduces himself as Jean-Paul. 

You spot him during one of your weekend shifts, waiting his turn as you finish ringing up a harried-looking lady. Another man joins him, a little bit younger, you think, with dark hair and an odd white streak at the front; they’re both dressed in scrubs. 

“It’s been a while, Jason.”

“You know how it is, JP. Work doesn’t stop. How’s Leslie?”

“Doing everything at once and somehow managing to pull it off. I’m sure she’d like to see you, if you could find the time.”

“Sure. I’ve got a couple days off from the hospital. I could drop in. Lend a hand.”

A soft chuckle. “If she doesn’t turn you around and tell you to go rest.”

“I’ll rest when I’m dead.”

He coughs. The other man snickers.

Just as the lady leaves, Jean-Paul says, “Let me pay.”

“I won’t say no.”

They both step up to the counter. Jean-Paul gives you a small smile in greeting and seems to decide to forgo your usual small talk—probably because of his new company, which you’re a bit grateful for. The other man—Jason?—nods, eyeing you curiously. Why, you have no idea. But that’s the only thing odd about it. You ring up the coffees without issue and soon, they’re stepping out, Jean-Paul giving you another small smile in goodbye. You return it. 

Having regulars like that reminds you of the ones you had in Keystone City. Kind Mr. Garrick, who stopped by about once a month for lottery tickets, his wife typically in tow; they were always kind to you, always a little bit concerned over your wellbeing, whether you were getting enough sleep or eating well. Painfully reminiscent of grandparents you never had. 

A little more frequently, there was Linda Park-West, a face you easily recognized from WKEY-TV for the Channel 4 News. She didn’t miss much, always so perceptive, but kind to you, sometimes testing your PR skills as a reporter. She usually stopped by for coffee before work but on occasion, she brought along her kids, Jai and Iris, to let them pick out something for themselves, too. Quite literal balls of energy, they were a handful but always good-intentioned. 

You miss them all a lot. More than you thought you would. The Flash, too. Especially these days. What you’d give to talk to him about all this stuff…

But you’ve managed on your own since your parents died. You can keep doing it. 

The following week, Tuesday night, you get another new vigilante visitor.

This one?

Robin. 

He is, admittedly, a figure you are considerably more scared of. It’s a bit… silly on your part, too, because he is a kid, you think, a teen at least, but, well, teens can be scary. This one certainly is. If only because of his close proximity to the one who scares the most. The one who you are happy not to have visited you thus far and Robin’s appearance… well, you don’t entirely know if it’s a good thing. 

But it might be foolish to assume that Batman doesn’t know this is happening. 

But then thinking of him knowing you exist makes you horribly anxious, so, you shelve the thought for now and try to focus on the situation.

Which is…

The three dogs in tow collapse in front of the door, panting, tongues lolled out, appearing to enjoy the air-conditioned bliss of the inside of the store. Robin stares at you, his face a blank mask. 

“Water?”

“At the back. Far left.”

He nods and turns.

You wait there, uncertain, glancing at the dogs. They look worse for wear, fur dirty and matted, old scars healed over; the sight tugs at your heart, so you step around from the counter, heading to the coffee machine. The store doesn’t carry bowls but the extra-large soda cups are wide enough to work for now. 

Robin appears near you, several big bottles of water held in hand. He doesn’t say anything, just looks at you and the cups.

“Don’t have any bowls,” you admit. “So, I thought this might work.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Styrofoam. Wasteful. But it’ll do.”

“Yeah, Circle K isn’t breaking barriers in terms of eco-friendliness.”

He says nothing to that, just turns and heads for the dogs. You follow him, not that turned off. You’ve heard rumors about this particular Robin. He does a good job but can be… rough around the edges. Like Bat, like Robin, you guess.

Glancing at the cups, you get an idea, stopping to duck around the counter and grab a pair of scissors. You cup off the top half of each of them, Robin taking them as you go, until all three cups are cut, allowing for the dogs to have better reach. 

You join him with the last one, filling it with cold water. Most of the dogs are so heat tired, they only lift their heads to drink, seemingly unable to stand.

You and Robin stay kneeled in front of them, filling the cups when necessary. You gently stroke the head of one nearest to you, smiling as his tail thumps against the tiles. 

Robin says nothing else and neither do you. That’s how his time there goes, spent in silence, petting the dogs, letting them cool down and rest. 

Eventually, he starts to leave, and you can’t help but ask, “What’s going to happen to them?”

He regards you for a moment and you get the unnerving feeling of being picked apart and analyzed. Still, you hold steady. It’s good practice, you try to tell yourself. One day, you’ll be faced with bloodhounds for journalists and you have to keep it together. Let yourself practice with Robin because if you can pull it off with him, you can do it with anyone. 

“The shelters are closed for the night,” he eventually responds. “I will take them somewhere safe, off the streets. Then in the morning, they’ll go there.”

“That’s good. Thanks for doing that. It’s kind of you.”

He pauses, looking back at the dogs, who are rejuvenated by this point, stretching and standing up, tails wagging as they look at you two. 

“It’s the right thing to do,” he says at last. “And… thank you, for your help.”

You glance away, picking up the cups. “Sure. No problem.”

A nod and Robin is soon corralling the dogs out of the store, murmuring more gently to them than you would expect, but from this experience, you suspect he has some kind of soft spot for animals. It’s endearing, in a way. 

You hope you made a good impression on him, too. 

(And if your good impression keeps Batman out a little longer, well, that’s just a lucky coincidence.)

The start of July creeps on you. 

There is still achingly little contact between you and Tim. By this point, you haven’t seen him in person for more than a month.

You miss him, in the same way you miss a limb. Scrolling through your social media, whenever you find something funny or that he would like, your knee-jerk reaction is to send it to him. But your conversations on those respective platforms are made up of messages from you and none from him, so you have to stop yourself, because it wouldn’t be worth it. He wouldn’t see it. 

Steph tries to preoccupy your time, though her behavior regarding Tim grows increasingly skittish, to the point where you almost think she might know.

She might know that you’re in love with him, him, her ex-boyfriend and first love. The thought brings on the usual amount of soul-crushing guilt and disgust with yourself. How can you do that to her? She’s your best friend. You love her to the ends of the universe and back and… How can you do that to her?

But… something else about it all niggles at you, too. She switches between reassuring you he’ll come around, and dismissing him the other times, saying you ‘don’t need him to have a good time.’ It makes you think they may be having their own issues, too.

The thought is sobering. 

You’ve always thought of Steph and Tim as—as insane as it sounds—a pair of bonded kittens. Not exactly getting along all the time but…

You couldn’t separate them. You shouldn’t separate them. 

And it feels so wrong for it to be just you two, sometimes. Like you’re missing another piece of the puzzle and it’s noticeable. This empty space between you two that he usually filled. Your group chat, at his insistence, is called the three musketeers. Well, you’re missing your third. Desperately.

“We can rebrand,” Steph says to you one day, the two of you at the mall’s food court. Tim said he was busy. Again.

“No,” you sigh. “That’s not… no. Anyway, Big Belly?”

“I—oh, you have got to be kidding me.” She sounds annoyed, voice sharp.

“What?” you ask, your eyes still on the menu in front of you. 

She grabs your arm. “I think we should eat somewhere else.”

You frown at her. “But you said you wanted to get—”

“We can get Big Belly somewhere else. Maybe a little more quiet, you know, it’s kinda crazy in here,” she laughs, though it sounds strained as she tugs you over to the exit. 

“Crazy? It’s not that busy—Stephanie!” You yelp as she drags you forward before you can take a look around. “What is going on—”

“It’s just—I think I see Jordanna—”

“Where—”

“Let’s not look! Don’t want her to see you or me, you know how she is, so, let’s get out of here…”

“Well, I—okay—you don’t have to—”

She tugs you all the way through the exit, out into the burning mid-afternoon heat. Humidity swallows you whole, turning your skin tacky, sun bearing down on you full-force. Outside, it smells sharply of gasoline and hot blacktop.

“Honestly, Steph,” you say, shaking your head. “You didn’t need to drag me out like that.”

She gives you an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I just… didn’t want to deal with Jordanna. She’s been really annoying me recently.”

“Has she?” You can’t imagine why Jordanna would even be talking to her since it’s the summer, but to be fair, there isn’t much Jordanna wouldn’t do in the name of annoying her. 

“Yup. Just… acting way out of line. So, let’s go somewhere else.”

“Alright, that’s fine. Let’s get out of the heat before you have to scrape me off the pavement.”

“Food’s on me,” she promises, looping her fingers through the belt loops of your jeans, tugging you gently; too hot to hold hands or twine your arms together like usual. 

Though the whole thing bothers you a little bit, you are too used to Steph and Tim’s sometimes strange ways. Leaving abruptly, missing scheduled hangouts, a penchant for tardiness. The occasional bruise or cut that they both wave away. The exhaustion that wears them down sometimes.

It’s odd.

But stranger things happen in Gotham, so, you heed their wishes for that stuff to be ignored. 

Just like you let this one go, too. 

Really. The things you do for them.

Oddities aside, as Tim remains virtually radio silent, you miss him more. Think about him more. 

Dream about him more.

“Steph’s going to be late,” is what Tim says as soon as he steps inside your dorm. 

You snort. “Of course she is. You’re both terrible at being punctual.”

“I… am less bad at it than she is.”

“Right,” you say, smirking, pointing to your clock. “You’re only twenty minutes late, compared to what her forty minutes to an hour will be.”

Tim grimaces as he shuffles off his shoes by the door, then steps in further. “She said she was showering.”

“So, we have even more time. That’s fine. I wanted to paint my nails.”

In the bathroom you share with your ‘roommate,’ the shower turns on. It’s really just the bathroom you two share. Your small dorm is entirely private. The perks of being a junior. 

You go over to your dresser, where your collection of makeup and nail polish is. Above it, your window looks out to the grassy quad, the sky clear of clouds, unusually blue today without the typical smog; the sun shines in, dust motes dancing in the rays.

Tim comes over, too, but he goes for your phone instead, which is connected to your Bluetooth speaker, music playing lowly; he got that for you this past Christmas. 

“Gonna play your old people music?”

“Bruce Springsteen is a treasure to this country and, to quote my dad, one of the few good things to ever come out of the state of New Jersey.”

You laugh. The song changes. The upbeat notes of Hungry Heart start. You’ve heard this one more than a couple times since meeting him. It’s not so bad. 

You fiddle with the bottles of nail polishes. Tim sets your phone down and leans over, dropping his chin to your shoulder as he watches you, humming quietly under his breath. 

The contact makes your heart skip a beat, tendrils of his cologne wrapping around you, the heat of his body palpable through your thin t-shirt. It’s a contradicting sensation, with the AC working hard to beat the May heat that’s settled in. Maybe too hard, as your fingers are a little bit cold. You warm up quickly with Tim so close to you, your heart thudding in your ears. You desperately hope he can’t feel the heat that expands in your face.

That’s a more recent development. One you hate looking too closely at, for fear of what it means.

(You do know what it means. You’re just still in denial. Because admitting it means you have feelings for your best friend’s ex-boyfriend. For your best friend.)

You keep fiddling, not sure which color to pick. Tim huffs softly, reaching past you, picking out a bottle of wine red nail polish.

“Fine. But you have to help,” you say, taking it from him, then grabbing another bottle for the top coat. 

“Don’t I always?”

You just nudge him back, stepping away from the dresser and taking a seat on the floor. The floor is hard, polished concrete; not pleasant to sit on or walk on, so you’ve invested in several cushioned rugs to cover as much as you can. 

Tim grabs a Zesti from your mini fridge, then joins you as you set to painting the nails of your left hand. This one is easier since you’re using your dominant hand and you manage to paint your nails without catching any of the skin around them. 

The shower in your bathroom hums underneath the sound of the song as you finish your left hand. The first coat, anyway. Tim passes his Zesti to you, wipes a hand on his jeans to get rid of the condensation, then takes the bottle of nail polish. 

You sip the soda, extending your right hand to him. He carefully balances the bottle on the rug and sets to painting your nails. 

Like with most things he does, Tim dedicates himself to his task wholeheartedly, cornflower blue eyes trained on your hand, tongue poking out in concentration. The sight makes your heart skip a beat. Warmth unspools in your chest like cotton candy.

Sunlight pours in from the window above the dresser, bathing him in warm, golden rays; it makes the shade of his dark hair warmer, the blue of his t-shirt, too, softening the pale of his skin. 

“So… how was that date?”

The question jars you. You avert your eyes. 

Ah. The date you agreed to go on with a guy in your communications class in an attempt to… you don’t know. Distract yourself from Tim? Try to find someone else to latch onto? All… not so great reasons, you know, but needs must. 

Not like it worked out, anyway…

“Terrible.”

He stiffens, pausing in his work to look at you, eyes narrowing, and you send him a small smile, privately pleased—though you shouldn’t be—at seeing him get all protective. You can take care of yourself and he knows that, too, but… one can appreciate having a cute guy be like that for you. Within reason, anyway. 

“He didn’t do anything, Timmy, relax. He was just… well, seemed nice initially. But when we got to the restaurant, he was horrible to the waitress. I already wasn’t feeling it, but after that, no way. So.”

He glances away, thumb rubbing idly at the back of your hand from where he cradles it in his. “Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s okay. It wasn’t a good idea.”

“To go with him or—” he clears his throat, turning back to his work “—dating in general?”

“I don’t know. He just wasn’t what I was looking for.”

“What are you looking for?”

You, you want to say, but don’t. 

Frightening to realize, really, that the answer to that question is immediate, as sure as the day. 

It’s Tim. 

Always Tim. 

But you’ve never felt this way for someone. This strongly, like you want so much, you could never be satisfied. 

“I don’t know,” you say quietly, watching the brush of the handle glide over your nail in easy, practiced sweeps. “Does anyone?”

“I guess not,” he concedes softly. “But still. I hope you can find it.”

The song changes. Something calmer, with the strum of the guitar. Familiar croons of I'm On Fire.

I have found it, you want to say. It’s you. It’s this. Right here, right now.

But just because you found it doesn’t mean it’s yours.

“Do you?” you find yourself asking because apparently you’re feeling extra masochistic today. “Know what you’re looking for, I mean.”

Steph sometimes teases him. Tries to point out nice boys and girls he might like. You used to play along. You don’t so much these days. 

He would always wave it off, anyway. Just shake his head and change the subject. He has dated before. Obviously. Someone as gorgeous as him… all of Gotham wants a piece of him. You do, too. Well. You want all of him. Which is another thing you are just now realizing. But anyway, since you’ve known him, he hasn’t dated anyone. He used to date a boy—Bernard? Steph said he was a character—from one of his old high schools but that didn’t work out. And now he still has the occasional date, but it never pans out. He says they just aren’t compatible. 

Makes you curious.

You’d never match up to it, you know, but you want to know, anyway. 

Tim looks up, his eyes slowly scanning your face. This close, with the sunlight, you can see the shadows his lashes cast on his cheeks, the flecks of silver in his eyes, like mercury, the odd scars, too, that he excuses behind clumsiness as a child. Everything inside you squeezes.

“I guess you can say that,” he eventually says, voice soft. 

The words hurt, but distantly, like it’s all far away from you. You’re too caught up here, now, close enough to smell his cologne. 

Tension thickens the air between you. It’s unfamiliar, unknown, but not unwelcome with how your stomach swoops like you missed a step, heart pounding in your ears. 

Tim looks… contemplative. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the movement of him biting his lip, teeth sinking into plush pink, and the urge to soothe away the indents with your own lips is fearsome, monumental, like a hurricane. 

His fingers tighten on your hand. You want to get swept away in this moment, no matter the consequences. It’s a dangerous kind of feeling you aren’t used to. 

But the shower abruptly shuts off in the bathroom, plunging the room back into silence with the strum of the guitar and the croon of the song as it ends. The moment is broken. 

Tim clears his throat and returns to his work. 

Neither of you say anything. 

Too much for you to want. 

Too much you cannot have.

Too complicated.

reblogs are appreciated!

taglist: @peachesona @knoxx-seresinbradshaw @kikis-writing-service @sweetistic @soundsfunbutno @ginevraxrogers @fridaenpina @skcj24 @bath1lda @omfg-its-tay @laughydaphne @fhrjrirj @iamthesimpmother @alittlelateforstars @thaliadoesthings @scarlett13 @zelabee @coffee-love-alltheabove @benstormy @sad-girl09 @lockofspades @thereallchristine

[ask to be tagged! either here or my inbox! ^_^]

#tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #dc comics imagine #tim drake imagine #red robin imagine #batfam imagine #batfam x reader #tim drake x y/n #tim drake x you #red robin x you #red robin x y/n #batfam x you #batfam x y/n

[everwitch-magiks]

Hi I love your RWRB stories.

How about for the AU fun facts game a high school AU and one of them is the popular jock and the other is the unpopular nerd?

Hi there, and thank you! ♡ What a lovely idea! Here goes:

It's when Henry scores a touchdown at homecoming that Alex falls in love with him. Not because of the touchdown itself - fuck knows Alex doesn't care about sports - but because of the way Henry looks after. The big fancy screens in the Fox Memorial Stadium show an absolutely irresistible closeup; Henry covered in mud and grinning from ear to ear, his happiness contagious as he pumps his fist in the air. He looks like he doesn't have a care in the world. It's wonderful to see. It so far from what Henry's expression has been for the past year - since they had reason to rename that goddamn stadium in the first place.

They meet in the school library. Although meet isn't really the word for it. Alex is late from his practice session with the mathlethes and is half-running so he won't miss too much of this week's model UN. Henry is holding court for his many adoring fans right by the classics section. And maybe it's an accident that Henry trips Alex over and makes everyone laugh, but that doesn't change the fact that it happens. Alex bats Henry's hand when Henry tries to help him to his feet. He hurries away; he's fucking late. And he's got much more important concerns than self-obsessed jocks who can't stay out of people's way. Even when they're as pretty as Henry.

Alex doesn't expect Henry to seek him out after that. Henry's got literally no reason to, not least because Alex is absolutely nobody. Henry, on the other hand, is more popular than the goddamn school mascot - no offense to the indomitable Mr. Wobbles, a most ferocious kitty, but he's got nothing on a certain Fox. But Henry waits by Alex's locker every day for a week. First to apologize, then to continue their conversation about sci-fi movies, then to ask Alex to lunch with him, then to lend Alex his copy of "Girl, Woman, Other", and finally to invite Alex to his next game. Alex rolls his eyes and goes on a rant about unequal school funding for dumb sports versus everything else. It's only when Alex gets to his math class that he realizes Henry might've just asked him out.

Pez is cheer captain and choreographs a whole routine for the sole purpose of wooing June. June is absent from the game as she's away at a student journalism meet. Sadness ensues. Henry comforts Pez. They stay in the locker room and feast on a bucket of popcorn until the coach finally kicks them out. They both miss Alex who was waiting with flowers outside.

Alex attempts to return Henry's copy of "Girl, Woman, Other" to Pez in order to avoid speaking to Henry. He must've misunderstood. Henry hadn't asked him out after all. It was all in his head. But Pez, who's great at spotting prime opportunities for grand gestures, springs to action. He quickly repurposes the cheer squad's 'woo June' routine to a grand promposal starring none other than Henry Fox. Pez isn't a man to let a good split-lift go to waste - especially not when it could help his best mate find true love. Henry declines performing the split-lift, which is his loss, but he does perform the promposal. Alex is speechless. He kisses Henry for the first time in the middle of the football field. For Henry's next game, Alex shows up with the classic game day face paint: grey whiskers (inspired by none other than Mr. Wobbles) and a blue heart on his right cheek. The way Henry kisses him after their win gets them both banned from the dance that same evening. Whoops. The football team, the cheer squad and the mathlethes all ditch the dance as a result. Pez organizes an expertly decorated alternative gathering within a minute and a half. It is technically impossible, but nobody thinks to question it. They all dance the night away. The end.

... okay, so this isn't five things that happens in the AU as much as the whole plot of it, but I did list it as five bullet points, so go me? And in any case, this was very fun! Thank you again for the ask! ♡

#firstprince #red white and royal blue #rwrb #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #fanfiction #evie writes #alternate universe #ask game #answered

[fanficfanattic]

Goal, Chance and/or Away (purely taking words from this football commentary rn lol)

I am once again impressed with the gems my recent word challenges have excavated. Six fic snippets under the cut.

Goal

1. From a fic where a newly returned Jamie sees a man drug a lady’s drink at a bar and intervenes. But without context it just looks like Jamie got in a bar fight.

He knows it plays into the idea that he is a prima donna, a moody little bitch, feels like its proof that he’s more trouble than he’s worth. But he can’t help laying in bed; with the team that can barely stand him downstairs watching a movie, while he’s been fucking grounded to his room like the child Roy always said he was, and feeling desperately alone.

He hadn’t cared about being alone, before Ted. During most of his time with Ted, even. His dad had always made him either actively drive people away or that was just the practical application of conforming to his demands. He’d been used to it. It was all he’d ever known.

And then Keeley said he should stop battling the people trying to help him. And he sacrificed the reminder he’d taken from home, of home, when he left it. And danced around a bonfire after Roy Kent said he was right about something. Dani had thrown his arm around him. He’d sung with the lads…

It was fun, and it made it hurt even more when the next day he’d gone back to how it had always been. He didn’t tell Ted how much time he’d spent fantasizing about what it would have been like to have gotten to stay. To develop those tiny first buds of friendships.

To have never relegated Richmond. To be playing in the now with his teammates but versions of them he’d grown alongside for months. Who never got extra pissed at him for shit talking them on tv, and destroying their Captain’s career, for sending them down.

To be trusted. Before, the only thing a team had cared about was wether they could trust him to score. Which was still technically true. But they hadn’t ever wanted more from him, and he certainly hadn’t been putting extra out there for free. Besides he hadn’t trusted anyone else much either. Maybe Man City to be good players and to work together towards a common goal. And Richmond to pass him the ball to score the first time around.

Now he trusted Dani to smile at him even when no one else would. He trusted Jeff to subtly nod, but not more than that, because he had greeted Jamie when he returned before realizing how mad everyone else was at him. Not that Jamie blamed him. He’d gone out of his way to message the man saying the small nod was probably better for both of them.

He hadn’t realized it until the moment Ted didn’t even let him talk that he’d trusted the man to be fair. He talked a good talk, but he had trouble walking the good walk, and was pretty lousy at both when it came to Jamie.

2. Now that the team has been gelling, and Roy understands how Jamie’s mind works more, he’s got a plan to run circles around West Ham.

“Kent, the fuck mate! You said you could keep in position!”

“Fuck you Tartt! Maybe if you weren’t-“

They had been yelling about the play in the heat of being pissed off at each other. Jamie had telegraphed the pass to Roy very clearly. And the defender who was supposed to be on the left, loosely marking Sam, tore off to be another line of defense between Roy Kent and their goal.

Unfortunately for them, even when Roy and him had been out for blood against each other, they’d have never been that stupid. Jamie doesn’t even twist his body fully the way it should be for the kick. It still rolls smoothly to Sam who buries it in the back of the net from his completely cleared lane.

Chance

1. From the Investigative Journalist epic.

“…for as long as I remember, when I heard people say things, I always thought they meant it however the worst possible way is. But a lot of people say it while meaning it in the best possible way turns out.”

“And how does this relate back to you thinking people are rude when they talk around a subject?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m trying to do that more.”

“What more?”

“Identify when I’m doing that kind of thinking that what someone is doing is the worst version it could be. So, society probably isn’t trying to be rude by talking around things. I think it’s accidentally rude.”

“Do you mean incidentally?”

“What’s the difference?”

“They both mean something happened by chance. Accidental implies that the thing happened by carelessness while incidental indicates it would still happen this way even if people were taking care.”

“I think people want to believe it’s that last one but I believe it’s more often the first one. Cause I can be the same way. I normally don’t think much before talking, and if I did that more, I’d say things differently or maybe not say anything at all.”

2. This is also from the platonic a/b/o fic I didn’t realize had so many scenes already sketched out. The scenario is that James had a shady doctor prescribing Jamie pills that included an (i fucking guess) untraceable dynamic suppression med. When his dad is too busy to deal with a refill, Jamie asks Richmond’s med team to prescribe him a new vitamin pack.

“Oh that bastard. I’m gonna kill him this time, Simon, I am!”

“Georgie, c’mon, let’s focus on Jamie now and murdering later, yeah?”

“Fine, fine! So doctor, what about that? Like I believe his father would hurt him, cause that’s his way, but the how doesn’t make any sense. With vitamins?”

“Well, we don’t know if there is anything different between the vitamins his dad got for him and what we provided here. The best way to find out is with a blood test.

And you’re Jamie’s medical health proxy. So-“

“Yes, you’ve got my. You need to do a blood draw? Run tests?”

“Yes ma’am. You’re granting permission for the draw?”

“Yes, of course. What the fuck. How-how soon will you know? Does he have to go to hospital? It’ll take us almost four hours to get there. Do we-“

“Georgie, she can’t answer any questions if you don’t give her a chance, love. Take another deep breath for me, okay? In and in and in. Hold and hold and hold. Out and out and out. Okay, again.” And after she kept at it, he addressed the doctor again.

3. From that evil fic I teased about. I’ve played coy about what happened before now but you caught me! Rebecca walks onto the practice pitch ‘without Jamie’, Ted notes to himself.

“Jamie’s parents were in a car accident this morning. That’s why I called for him. His mother is being held overnight for observation and is quite understandably shaken. She called Man City to get a hold of Jamie, and when she explained what was going on she was able to talk with Pep. He promised he’d talk to Jamie so she could rest.

And then he called me directly.”

It was silent for a moment, and she was tempted to look around to better gauge player reactions. She kept her eyes on Ted, instead, because his was both more important and certainly more interesting. As she’d begun her story, he’d paled alarmingly.

And he failed to spill forth some folksy American tale to talk circles around everyone. Instead he hoarsely asked only one question.

“And his father?”

It gave away a weakness he had, which Rebecca was sure he neither realized he’d done nor that it was one. And why would he be worried about that, she reminded herself, when he also doesn’t realize he’s in game of your making.

“Ah, I should have been more precise in my language. His biological father divorced his mother when he was still an infant, I’ve been informed. It was his stepfather that was driving and took the brunt of the impact. He died on scene.”

She didn’t say it icily or meanly. She just said it without warmth. And that impacted the players more than she’d thought possible. Unfortunately it took time for her to understand that, because at the moment everyone just appeared to be in shock.

Ted didn’t ask anymore questions, and the silence was getting uncomfortable even for her.

“Well, since she took her late husband’s last name, there is a chance this won’t make the papers without the name Tartt attached. Still, if it does, Keeley made some excellent points about how we want to look. So no one go on your socials until she’s spoken with you.

Back to training now.” And she turned to walk away, not once looking back.

Away

1. ^ Chance #3

2. ^ Goal #1

3. I shamelessly stole this idea from a fic where Ted has Jamie stay with Roy in a similar manner as hockey players sometimes do? Apparently. So season 2 Jamie returns to Richmond. And Ted cooks up a thing where Jamie is going to room with Sam. Help them get their differences settled. And then…and then James Tartt shows up.

Jamie sort of unthinkingly says “Oh, Ted knows about me da’”. And Sam is sure that Jamie must have misunderstood what happened until he hears about Ted walking away but sending the soldier. And the conversation Jamie and Ted had in the Crown & Anchor.

#jamie tartt #dani rojas #jeff goodman #ted lasso #referenced attempted date rape #bar fight but make it a rescue #roy kent #trick plays #a/b/o #alpha beta omega #platonic a/b/o #death of a parent #death of a stepparent #georgie ted lasso #jamie’s mum georgie #simon ted lasso #jamie’s stepdad simon #sam obisanya #james tartt sr

[lexosaurus]

Lexx, outta curiosity do you have an archive of all your past banners and icons? I'm curious to see the evolution if so

As a matter of fact, I do save them all!

Here is a history of the icons (no dates tho cuz im not digging that info up):

Technically the first icon I had was just a generic dp screenshot. I can't remember what is was now. I think it was like 6-8 months before I began making my own icons.

This was the first "custom" icon I made. I created this amazing look on an app called Pizap, which was the first photo editing app I'd ever tried. At the time, it was free to use (I don't believe this is the case anymore? I don't have it anymore so idk). As you can see from the incredible quality, I was truly a master from the start.

I could be mixing up 2 and 3's order, but I'm like 99% sure this was icon 2. I made it for Pride Month because I'm asexual, and I used that same app. I put this icon in every June.

This is icon 3, again still using Pizap. This is sort of the "base" icon that I use for everything now. I really should update this now, but part of me almost likes the retro meme aesthetic.

Here's icon 4, which is just icon 3 but with a Disney Princess hat on it that I put in using Photopea my beloved. I made this after the premier of the Disney soundtrack I participated in.

Icon 5, this was the one you made me in ms paint. Literally still obsessed with it thank u 🤌

After that I went back to icon 3 for a while. This one has always just spoken to me in a way that no other icon ever could.

When Apple threw the goddamn chains on Tungle dot gov and banned like 300 fucking tags, I quickly took icon 3 and threw a censored bar over it because Apple decided to ban the tag "Lex". This tag is still banned on my iphone, along with many others.

As of two days ago, this is now my icon, which will stay for as long as this meme is hot. Honestly, I am just honored that people are finally acknowledging one of my favorite movies of all time. The sound design on it was impeccable, and the score was a true masterpiece.

As for my headers, I've only ever had like 2 of them so they're not really an evolution. I plan on actually redoing it soon because there's something about this design (I'm not specifying what) that has always bugged me. So I can do the header evolution after I've sorted that out.

But honestly I love making little iterations to my icon. I just think it's really funny. The goal is always to be recognizable to those glancing by, but still different enough that someone who actually looks will be like, "wait a second..." (with the exception of pride month which has ace colors).

#danny phantom #lexx lore #what is next after goncharov? #will i finally redesign the icon to be an HD quality? #will i update the memes? #your guess is as good as mine

[merry-harlowe]

Having both pirated it and snuck into the theater, avatar 2 is simply a bad movie. For all of the technical reasons (the script was hilariously bad, they reused the same score from the first movie, most of the plot points were borrowed from the first movies as well, subjectively its like a bad fn net fic written by a twelve year old), but mostly because literally it made me sick to my stomach as an indigenous person.

There were multiple points where both times viewing I nearly left the room. On four (4) separate occasions in this movie, indigenous coded women are made to scream-sob in front of the camera. In Canada, indigenous women experience disproportionate rates of physical and sexual violence. This is mirrored in the US and in Aotearoa. James Cameron took the real life violence and grief our communities experience, and exploited it on screen for profit. The whole franchise is obviously exploitative of indigenous spiritualities, aesthetics, and experiences under colonialism, and it only got more obvious in this installment. Any anticolonial message is surface level at best, and don’t start typing out that stupid “well watching how awful this fictional colonization is made people feel bad for real indigenous people” argument. Because 1) I’ve never met a single goddamn person online or offline that that was true for and 2) James Cameron isn’t an ally for making exploitive appropriative trauma porn.

I had been considering writing a full review of this movie, which is why I snuck in for an actual viewing. Thinking about this film, and the reactions to it online from settlers, makes me so upset that I don’t think I will. I’m sure there’s more in-depth writing out there on just how horribly racist this film is. So. Just. Please don’t give James Cameron money for this shit. Read and watch shit actually made by indigenous people. Thanks.

#theo rambles #avatar way of water #james camerons avatar #im so angry and frustrated that people still are like this #and that a movie like this can be released and SUCCESSFUL #i literally left the theater sick to my stomach #before anyone starts bullshit. i thought the first movie was ok. i thought it was appropriation and that is was gross for using a Pocahontas #metaphor. but I thought that maybe James Cameron would change and get consultants and maybe the second movie would be ok #i grew up with the first movie and i liked it. i liked seeing indigeniety in scifi and I liked watching people like me get to win against #the colonizers and not be demonized for it #fucking. whatever though lol #begging settlers to have some tact when both praising or critiquing this piece of shit film

[thenineofus]

Time to gather my thoughts on the Frankenstein movies I watched this month. I'll go in the order in which I saw them.

Frankenstein '80 (1972) 1/10 I can't possibly recommend this one as it is a sexploitation with a very thin veil of Frankenstein to justify its existence. But I will say this: The monster steals money from Frankenstein to hire a prostitute who he will murder anyway. So yeah, there was some fun in it.

Frankenstein: The True Story (1973) 10/10 Objectively the best adaptation of Frankenstein I have ever seen. Although it doesn't follow exactly the story of the original book, instead engaging as well with the previous adaptations (namely the Universal ones and the Hammer ones) to create a conversation of themes between them all. But what it comes down to is undoubtedly the best version of the themes introduced by the book, on the top of the fact that technically it is a masterpiece. If you watch only one Frankenstein movie, let it be this one.

Frankenstein 1970 (1958) 5/10 This one is interesting, it came out one year after the Hammer one, but I don't think it was influenced by it at all, it is instead engaging more with the Universal movies, but already it is a meta linguistic adaptation, since the plot is actually about a film team shooting a Frankenstein movie at the castle of the Frankenstein family. It's a very fun movie and Boris Karloff is fantastic as always, I like the ending too.

Frank3n5t31n (2015) 3/10 I feel that Bernard Rose (of Candyman fame) had different plans for this movie but lacked resources to accomplish his vision. The movie feels incomplete, like a first draft. Themes are introduced clumsily and then dropped, so not great. BUT! It is very gory, it's the first really gory version of Frankenstein that I have seen, also there is a very Freudian thing going on that is fun too. And at the very end Adam, on fire, screams "I am Adam", can't make this shit up!

Victor Frankenstein (2015) 6/10 This is by far the most frustrating one, because there is A LOT to like about it, but the lows are so low. I love the chemistry and dynamic between the leads, I like the way they turn Igor into Victor's ultimate creation, I love when Igor says "They won't remember Frankenstein the man, only the monster" that is actually a brilliant meta line. But like, they were aiming for BBC Sherlock so bad and for what? Still, it looks kinda nice, they were trying to do something here, too bad it falls apart at the seams.

Frankenstein (1992) 9/10 This is the only adaptation of Frankenstein that I have ever seen genuinely follow the original book. It is as faithful an adaptation as you will ever see, down to having the framing narrative of the ship in the Arctic. The only element it introduces is that Victor and Adam are connected and one feels whatever the other does. And I love that! It works beautifully! The only downside of this one is that it is a made for tv movie and it shows. It has that 90's teleplay visual identity, but I don't mind it. It is a genuinely amazing adaptation and I highly recommend it. Also the score is a highlight!

#Frankenstein #about me

[rikeijo]

Today's translation #101

Uaaa~ Beginning of another hundred 🔥🔥🔥

Another Misc. translation for today! This time it's the interview that little Yuuko shows to little Yuuri about teenage Victor in ep. 1, Yuuri's flashback scene!

Pick Up! Victor Nikiforov

A day off in St. Petersburg

[Photo description] Victor Nikiforov and his pet dog Makkachin/ In his house's garden.

Exclusive interview

Junior World Championships, the last note of this [figure skating] season. Victor Nikiforov broke the world record for best personal total score. He's only 15, but he has both a solid skating technique and artistry, which charms the audience, and not only in Russia, he is now being observed very intensely. A sunny afternoon in St. Petersburg. After off-season started, we visited him in his house.

--- You did very good job this season! How do you spend your time now in off-season?

"I can relax a lot now! I walk with Makkachin (in the photo, the poodle next to Victor), watch movies… As I didn't have much time to do that until last month.

--- Makkachin is such a big dog!

"[Makkachin is] a standard poodle [Japanese let you avoid pronouns a lot, especially third person pronouns, so it's not specified here if Makkachin is a "she" or a "he"]. I've got him/her 3 years ago. S/he might have got that big because s/he's sleeping all the time. And that s/he often snatches food may also have something to with that, I guess… Makkachin is very good at hiding [this habit] from me […]"

[The rest of the text is hidden, but from the few words visible we can infer the next question starts with either "congratulations for winning Junior Worlds" or "breaking world record" last month, and then about the program/s most likely, that something was very memorable. Then Victor talks about his program/s, then that something happened when he didn't know what to do, the next question starts with "This morning…" and then Victor answers about how he feels most likely, the answer starts with "Happy" but as in Jp the negation is added to the end of adjectives, it may as well be "Unhappy" hehe… The next question is probably about next season, and Victor answers something about seniors. So, to sum up, such a shame we can't read it.]

Towards the next season

"[…] I have been skating since I was very young, and I'm so happy that at present too, skating gives me joy. I'd like to always feel like this [that is: enjoying skating]. As for the programs I was skating until last month, my technical skills stabilized a lot, and I feel the effects of that. When it comes to the artistry, I think it would be interesting if I could discover many more different sides of me. I think that if you just continue to work on something, the the effect will come in due course!"

--- And lastly, [not visible, but traditionally it's most likely "a message for our readers/your fans, please"]

"Thank you for always supporting me. From now on too, I'd love to be able to show you a new me [the word used is "miseru", means "to show somebody something", but the kanji used is for "charm somebody", it's a play on words, because both have the same reading]. Let's meet again next season!"

[Notes: It's just so sad, that from what we see in the show, this wish of 15 year-old Victor to always enjoy skating didn't come true…

It's also interesting that 15-years-old Victor was living in a house with such a beautiful garden... Unless he's into gardening, it looks like it's his family home 🤔]

#yuri on ice #yoi translations #yuri on ice translation

[period-dramallama]

The Lost King: movie review

TLDR: not as Ricardian as I was expecting, but definitely a Ricardian movie. Enjoyable, but the historical arguments were weak.

I want to grab the makers of this movie and shake them and shout RICHARD  III IS AN IMPORTANT HISTORICAL FIGURE AND THEREFORE WORTHY OF FINDING HE DOES NOT HAVE TO BE “THE RIGHTFUL KING” NOR DOES HE HAVE TO BE GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD

My favourite part of the film was Harry Lloyd as the ghost of Richard III. He was just great. 

One moment that i loved, being a nerd, was when Philippa goes to a bookshop and asks about books on King Richard III and the woman says “we have 8 titles” “I’ll take them” “which ones?” “all of them.” MOOD.

Given that Philippa Langley was a producer on this movie I was worried they’d portray her as flawless but she felt like a real person rather than a saint. Even Richard’s ghost is like “your interest in me is getting obsessive.”

 I also liked the portrayal of ME. It felt like the moviemakers did their homework. The score at times was pretty overpowering and maybe a bit too whimsical.

“Tudor propaganda” this and “Tudor historians” that. This movie never acknowledges that anti-Richard Yorkists existed. Richard wasn’t just brought down by Henry Tudor, he was brought down by a Yorkist-Tudor coalition. Let’s not erase the teamwork of Elizabeth Woodville and Margaret Beaufort!

There is one passing mention of Anne Neville, yaaaaaaay.

I dislike this movie’s implication that anti-Ricardians are ableist or they can’t see past Shakespeare. Ricardians aren’t the only ones reading sources!

Now on to the feeble historical arguments this movie allows to go unchallenged:

“Shakespeare made up the hunchback”. 

No. Shakespeare took the idea of Richard’s back and the idea of him having an abnormal birth from Thomas More’s history. 

“Richard III wasn’t a usurper but the rightful king! Edward was married to Eleanor Butler! His marriage to Elizabeth Woodville was invalid!”

Even if Eleanor was the ‘true wife’ of Edward IV (and isn’t it convenient that both were dead when Richard argued this?) Edward V was his father’s chosen heir. Edward IV specifically said he wanted Richard to be Protector, not king. If Edward IV wanted Richard to be king or considered him the rightful heir...he could have named Richard. He was the king!

“Richard didn’t kill Edward of Warwick or his nieces or his sister’s seven sons!”

Duh he didn’t. They were behind him in the line of succession! And if Edward of Warwick was technically ahead of Richard in the line of succession.... that means Richard wasn’t actually the rightful king Philippa. 

“In Henry VII’s first speech he doesn’t mention the princes’ murder, why? They were still alive!”

That’s a huge leap of logic oml. These two things...just don’t connect. 

“Richard III established innocent until proven guilty!” “Richard wanted a more just society”.

We’re really not going to mention the time he had people disembowelled for talking shit about him?

“Richard was an advocate for the printing press when people thought it was the work of the devil”

OK, first of all, Edward IV was Caxton’s patron and early printed works were dedicated to Elizabeth of York so jot that down. Stop acting like Richard was THE innovator here. Also, work of the devil?? What’s the source for that??

“Richard provided the safe strong leadership the country needed”

His coup killed Richard Grey, William Hastings, and Anthony Woodville. With no trial. Then he was on the throne for 2 years, and there were 2 attempts to remove him and the second succeeded. How low are your standards?? 

Nevertheless, the movie wasn’t as Ricardian as I thought it would be. Philippa asks Richard’s ghost “did you have them killed?” and he doesn’t say no. He simply asks her what she thinks. Also one character says we mustn’t sanctify OR demonise people.

This movie has caused controversy because there’s a character we’re clearly meant to hate called Richard Taylor. He’s patronising, dismissive, and pretty ableist too, so ableist that Philippa calls him out publicly and educates him that “having a disability doesn’t make you evil.” 

Unfortunately there’s a real guy called Richard Taylor, and I can see why he’s planning on suing for defamation. This was an easily avoidable problem! Just change the goddamn names, or have some proof that the real Taylor was a dick!

#richard iii #the lost king #ricardians for ts

[solar-tl-27]

You said you have a collection of old electronics, can you show some?

I can! It’s very small and not that impressive but i’m a bit of a nerd. (It’s…. It’s all Nintendo lol and not old old)

FIRST OFF MY CONSOLES

I personally own

An original gameboy i recently got from a family member because they were clearing out stuff and knew i liked old stuff. It’s coroded and needs a good clean for it to properly work again but I honestly just want it for show because i own the gba sp which hurts my eyes less.

My gameboy advance sp i have owned since i was little this thing is a champ! It doesn’t power on normally and i have to do a whole start up ritual but she’s strong!

Then we have my ds lite. Iiii used to own like 3 of these but my last remaining one recently decided it had seen enough and …. Snapped in two. It survived a very rough life for a while i was an extremely clumsy kid and that thing got dropped… so often. I actually managed to score this new one for like 25 euro’s at a con. Cuz it didn’t come with a charger or stylus, but thankfully i own plenty of stylus’s. And another fender SOLD THE CHARGERS FOR CHEAP! I also got 2 games and ended up with a whole new ds lite for like 50 euro’s!

And finally my baby my problem child… my new 3ds xl. I was originally gonna get a 3ds for my birthday but when at the store the guy told us that if we waited just a little the new 3ds would actually come out so waiting for that would probably be better (and more expensive) so we did! This bad boi has survived sooo long. The paint on the back started to chip so I actually got an accessory that works as a stand and a hand grip so your hands don’t cramp up. and it has had a screen replacement and a joystick replacement. But he’s still going strong!

I also own a switch but it’s not really old and didn’t have it on hand.

Next up the games

I got these with the og game boy i got from family so tbh they aren’t my choices tbf

Out of all of these I’m probably the most interested in kirby. So these are also more to look at in comparison to my other games.

Then we have my gba games! And Pokémon silver but I couldn’t find it.

First up my copy of Pokémon fire red! I got it for cheap plated it a bit then restarted and for a second I thought my screen had finally quit life because i was face to face with a yellow ratata THANKFULLY I actually like ratata and raticate on my team so i threw a ball at it… only to be transported to the pokedex menu and go…. Wait a minute…OH MY GOD! So I accidentally caught a shiny 😅 i named her Shimmer and haven’t touched that save file since.

Then we have 2 games I bought PURELY for nostalgia

A barbie game to get hyped for the barbie movie

And disney princess royal adventure I LOVE THAT GAME honestly if anyone wants to just play a feel good cozy walking game with little minigames this is such a nice game the graphics are fantastic and it’s just soooooo cozy (it is a glorified walking sim though…. It’s mostly walking walking and more walking)

A true delight tho!

Next up

DS GAMES here my true personality shows!

Pony friend and professor layton I owned since i was little and I finally completed professor Laytona few years ago! I’m not a puzzle person but godddd i love prof layton games!

Furthermore lps beach friends, lps garden and style boutique are recent purchases!

I got back into lps a while ago and am very excited for the new 2024 peta but they made me soooo nostalgic for the games so at a local con I basically ordered my friends to help me look for the games! I ended up finding lps beach friends together with style boutique another franchise i adore and later purchased lps garden online! The games are great! You also may have burned down a bakery in the friend’s series BUTTT THATS NOT IMPORTANT lol

Style boutique I purchased because i am on a quest i’m on the hunt TO OWN EVERY VERSION i own 1 and 3(technically 4) so i just need NEW style boutique and new style boutique 2!

And finally

The 3ds games (i also used to own Skylanders trap team 3ds but I LOST THE GAME)

Not including tomodatchi life and new style boutique 3

I was a Pokémon guy i loved it a lot

Pokemon x y is definitely my favorite from the 3ds era… not cuz it’s good…. But because lysandre and sycamore are just the best characters pokemon has eve made lol and i can see the potential in it (also furfrou my favorite Pokémon)

Oras is definitely the game i replay the most because it is a really good game

I love moon and ultra moon a lot aswell!

Zelda actually funny enough i … ended up bugging the game so hard in the first 30 minutes of playing…. I hard locked the game and I couldn’t progress 😅 that’s ehen I knew I wasn’t a zelda guy

And monster hunter story OMG ITS SO GOOD the anime was better at the execution of the story BUT THE GAMEE OOOOOOOOOO i wanna replay it so bad BUT I’M SO ATTACHED TO MY CHARACTER I JUST CANT RESET he’s my boi! MY SON!! I love the game and I’m playing 2…. But i never finished it due to reasons but from what i did play ITS GOOD but it destroyed the ending of the first anddd i dont like that.

Also i’m so excited for fashion dreamer to come out and i will get it(probably for Christmas as a little treat) and i will be super inspired and use it as outfit inspiration forrr my winx stuff! So that’s exciting!

I would own a lot more old old stuff if it wasn’t for the fact that static hurts my ears and my eyeballs also don’t like old screens SO MOSTLY JUST MY NINTENDO STUFF cuz i was the Nintendo kid from my town. My brother had a playstation my neighbors a pc and a close friend and xbox the great divide!

My favorite playstation game was tony hawk pro skater 2 lol

BUT THATS ALL FOR NOW THIS WAS SUPER LONG OKI BYE!

#art #collection #nintendo

[tharizdun-03]

Oppenheimer Review

First of all, I think Oppenheimer is a technical masterpiece. An audiovisual marvel. It's Nolan's best work in that regard, a completely new level for him, and an incredible achievement. Editing-wise, it's remarkable too. People have said that the writing can be over-written and that it struggled to breathe. There are a lot of time jumps, and I didn't follow everything in detail, but it never struggled to hold my attention personally. I think that as long as you follow along overall, it doesn't really matter.

I love the little flashes of sparks and stuff here and there, and the consistent clapping and stomping. It adds to that feeling of inevitability, knowing what's coming and building up to it. Ludwig Göransson's score for this is absolutely fearsome to an insane degree. It's one of the best aspects of this film, and it wraps you in its blanket of existential dread from the very first scene and never lets go. And as much as this feels like it was the film Nolan was perhaps born to made, Cillian Murphy equally gave the performance of a lifetime. I think to those worried that this was going to be US imperalist propaganda, let me tell you that it is certainly not. There are some criticisms I have up ahead, but especially for an American film, they portrayed the communist characters very sympathetically, and was very clear about how dropping those bombs against a country who was going to surrender anyway was anything but a just act. In fact, this might be one of the most overtly anti-nuclear weapons movie made since the first Cold War.

In fact, talking about its politics for a bit. I wouldn't say it is leftist, but the movie is very sympathetic to leftism and incredibly damning of the red scare. Almost from the get go, Oppenheimer has to hide any sort of left wing beliefs that he has or any ties to the communist party. Oppenheimer actually takes time to show him organizing, unionizing his campus, discussing theory with commie comrades, funding the spanish civil war and helping refugees escape. They even frame the whole Los Alamos project like it's a sort of pseudo commune where everyone (yes, even women) gets to contribute to the little society they're resided in. That's very sympathetic to leftist perspectives for a mainstream movie. I think the movie almost goes so far as to portray most communists as empathetic and kind, whereas the anticommunists tend to be petty and vindictive (the scene where the guy decides not to bomb Kyoto because he had his honeymoon there). I'd also say that the movie is very much about the folly of centrism and apolitical science, and I think that even though the movie isn't explicitly saying "yay communism", I think Oppenheimer himself is consistently portrayed, in the final act especially, as never really having been a true communist and how that's a bad thing. I think Jean calls it from the beginning in the scene about reading das kapital, and he just refuses to take any stance on anything. Which, of course, is a consistent character trait of his that leads to his future actions. In fact, let's talk about that. The man himself.

I do think Oppenheimer is less of a character study, and more of an idea study. I think if you're looking to really get into Oppenheimer's head, it only foes so far. But if you see it as a general encapsulation of the events, rather than the person, and the ideas behind those, it succeeds. I think that disconnect prevents emotional investment of the personal kind, but I don't think it's that kind of movie. It calls for emotional investment of the existential kind. And I think, in a way, perhaps it's good. Perhaps it's good that we didn't get too deep into Oppenheimer's head or tried to make him too sympathetic. It's not a story about Oppenheimer. It's a story about the atomic bomb, and they only tell it through Oppenheimer. He is the vehicle, not the subject. It explores ideas, less so than people.

"You can’t commit the sin and then have us all feeling bad for you because it had consequences"

That is the moral center of the film.

Oppenheimer ego and cowardice is estabilished from the get-go and everything else follows. He can't commit politically or romantically. All theory, no practice. The communists saw him as a traitor (kitty pretty much explicitly said the issue was that he never saw a communist, and he suffered repercussions cause he detached from his political beliefs, not considering the moral implications of his practicing science). Right-wing government officials saw him as spineless and weak. The characters even say "nobody knows what you think." I think it was exceedingly interesting how he quickly abandon hid interest in communism and anti-imperialism (when matt damon's character confronts him) and how it is that lack of integrity that leads him to committing what he does.

Throughout the film there's a constant undercurring criticism of Oppenheimer's indecisiveness. How at every opportunity he could have done the right thing, and the consequences of not doing so. He tries to poison his professor. He allows his colleague to work on the hydrogen bomb. He never apologizes for the bombings, and yet the guilt eats away at him only after he's made the bomb. And even then he denies it. He compartmentalizes it away. You're not supposed to feel for him. His guilt was paper-thin, wanting to present himself as a martyr. He's a coward and a narcissist.

I think that what prevents personal emotional investment is that we rarely actually got a look into his head. It's a lot of you have to pick up what the movie thinks about him, but we don't see things from his perspective, like from being really embedded in how he sees everything. And again, I think it's good cause it's not about his struggle, but about how he played a part in the larger story. We don't want to identify with him too strongly. But sometimes it makes it so that the film can't properly look at everything. Not just in that we don't get to know Oppenheimer's specific self-conflicted thoughts but instead they keep it vague.

But I also do think it erases Japanese and Native American voices regarding nuclear testing and detonations. In fact, pacific islanders were also severely impacted by nuclear testing under the Pacific Proving Grounds. At least 318 bombs were dropped on ancestral homes and people. The movie does, of course, say that the bombings (overall) were bad. We all know that. But I think it's terribly reductive when to this criticism people just say "uuh, did you just want to see japanese people get burnt to crisps lmaoo". Like, no. But I do think Nolan only symbolically annihilating literally everyone victimized by the production and subsequent bombings is an inherent pitfall by taking this approach. We don't see the Hispanic and indigenous people whose land was stolen and poisoned to build the bomb. We don't see a single face from Hiroshima and Nagasaki. 

And I do think that was a bad call. In fact, I think natives tried reaching out to Nolan to at least be acknowledged in the film. Which, if true, isn't a good look. Obviously, him seeing the atomic bomb basically wherever he looks and the skin rotting off of people infront of him, I recognize. That's not what I'm talking aboutl But there is a scene where he can't even look at photographs of victims of the bomb, and by proxy, neither can the film. It limits itself only to Oppenheimer's guilt while never giving the actual victims any voice whatsoever. And I think this is important to bring light to. 

I also think that we didn't really dig into what must've been extreme inner turmoil for a Jewish man to build a weapon he thinks will end the war, but then the movie doesn't actually explore it. Not that it should be the main conflict, but it's as if they didn't even tie him being Jewish to wanting to defeat the Nazis and that feels like a stronger connection they should've made, right?

Also, the women in this movie don't really get much to do. Florence's character mostly had sex and then died, which is a shame, cause there was some sort of sadness there that could've been something but we never looked at it. Even Emily Blunt's scenes, which she act out very well, lack proper build-up.

P.S. I think if you avoid Oppenheimer because you're a leftist yet flock to Barbie, the most corporatized depiction of feminism ever where capitalism can't be addressed and the patriarchy is reduced to anti gender equality (completely dismissing intersectionality), then you need to work on stop identifying so much with your pre-concieved biases so that it doesn't affect your media literacy. Representation is not glorification. (last time i'll talk about barbie, sorry. i just see a lot of dumb oppenheimer takes when there are legitimate criticisms you can focus on instead)

Overall, it's a great film tho. Technically, it's Nolan's magnum opus. I think the movie not being much angrier and giving a slice to the people actually victimized instead of being utterly disinterested in such, or not allowing us to actually get into Oppenheimer's head (nolan very much picked the middle road, not committing to either. ironically, like oppenheimer himself often did lol), prevents it from being an all time great classic for me. It would've needed a bit more bite. 

But I'm very impressed by Nolan's damning of imperialism's hunger for unnecessary war and destruction, the red scare mass hysteria, the consistent persecution of communists, and how how anything remotely left wing is seen as anti-american which cruelly exposes how being "american" is identifying with the lust and acceptance of the empires' war crimes.

#oppenheimer

[ryanjdonovan]

DONOVAN’S OSCAR PROGNOSTICATION 2024

Truth -- that seems to be the theme for the films at the Oscars this year.  What is truth?  Is there such a thing?  Can it ever truly be known? (Anatomy of a Fall)…  Is it perception? (American Fiction)…  Is it fluid, subject to interpretation? (Poor Things)…  Is it disputable? (Nyad)…  Is it timeless? (Past Lives)…  Is it colored by history? (Oppenheimer)…  Is it clouded by memory and nostalgia? (The Holdovers)…  Is it based on perspective, bent by fame? (Maestro)…  Is it subjective, controlled by a narrative or manipulated for personal gain? (May December)…  Is it controlled by power? (Barbie)…  Does it get rewritten? (Killers of the Flower Moon)…  Does it become forgotten or ignored? (The Zone of Interest)…  Is it purple? (The Color Purple)… (Okay, I struggled with that last one.)

At a time when we doubt that anything is true, how can we believe in the Oscars themselves?  It's still secretive and opaque.  At least the cronyism this year has been discretely kept behind closed doors, as it should be, as opposed to transparently flaunted on social media (like last year with the Andrea Riseborough nomination scandal).  So this year, if the Oscars are going to be manipulated, at least they'll have the decency to hide it from us.

Here's one truth that's irrefutable: My 25th annual Oscar predictions are guaranteed 100% accurate.  So read on… and get ready for some unpopular opinions.  Think I loved masterworks from celebrated auteurs, like Oppenheimer, Barbie, Killers of the Flower Moon, The Zone of Interest?  No!  Overrated, all of them.  Film snobs (and Mattel executives) are sure to castigate and shame me for my treacherous viewpoints… because they are unwilling to accept the truth. 

Fact Check = True: You can follow me on Letterboxd: https://letterboxd.com/ryanjdonovan/

BEST PICTURE:

SHOULD WIN:  The Holdovers WILL WIN:  Oppenheimer GLORIOUSLY OMITTED:  May December INGLORIOUSLY SNUBBED:  The Taste of Things

It's a big year for characters that have been name-checked in retro popular music: Oppenheimer (in Sting's 'Russians'), Leonard Bernstein (in R.E.M.'s 'It's the End of the World as We Know It', Barbie and Ken (in Aqua's 'Barbie Girl').  Unfortunately for The Zone of Interest, there are very few pop songs about Nazis…

Oppenheimer will win Best Picture.  That is certain.  But should it?  Maybe the better question is: Have we been tricked?  Tricked into thinking this is the most important film of the year?  Into believing that the only acceptable way to see this film is in 70mm IMAX on the biggest screen possible, when 90% of the film is people talking in small rooms?  Into believing that this is dazzling, dynamic filmmaking because the editing, sound design, and score make it all (again, 90% talking) so seemingly intense?  Into believing the most complex and destructive calculations that the world has even known can be written down and solved on a solitary blackboard or a single sheet of paper?  My answer: Yes, we have been tricked.  Now, I think it's a fantastic movie, and it deserves a lot of the recognition it's getting.  And I'm exaggerating my assertion that we've been tricked… but only a little.  Other than the One Big Explosion, was it really critical to see this in a format that only existed in 11 states (fewer than 20 theaters) in the entire country?  I can't believe I'm being heretical of the theatrical experience, but… no, it wasn't.  If you just saw it on a regular movie screen, was that okay?  Yes, you can be forgiven for your cinematic transgression.  (And, for all the hoopla about the technical perfection of the theatrical film print, I still had a hard time hearing the dialogue, which has been true of all of Christopher Nolan's recent films.)  I can't shake the notion that the film is relentlessly propulsive… but also very boring.  The sound, the way it's cut together, and the music (and let's be honest, the nudity) essentially manipulate the audience into believing the story is more interesting than it actually is.  Without those elements working overtime, would we be nearly as captivated?  Would we even care about the outcome of the trial or the hearing or the tribunal or the security clearance inquisition or whatever the hell is going on?  Honestly, I wouldn't even put Oppenheimer in Nolan's all-time top 5.  An apt comparison -- but superior film -- is Dunkirk: historical events, thrumming sound design, thriller pacing, time-hopping story, Oscar acclaim.  However, that film has real stakes and drama, not senate committees and conference rooms and smirched reputations (the atomic bomb, of course, notwithstanding).  Similar to Oppenheimer, during the first watch, many of the filmmaking elements in Dunkirk call attention to themselves, and the film tends to get in its own way.  But on subsequent viewings, those initially-troublesome aspects pay off, and the viewing experience vastly improves.  Today, I'm willing to call Dunkirk a masterpiece.  Maybe the same will be true with Oppenheimer.  I guess I only have to watch it five more times to find out. 

So, my personal pick for what Should Win is not Oppenheimer.  Unfortunately, I can't really decide between my top three films: The Holdovers, Anatomy of a Fall, and Past Lives.  It keeps flipping.  Ask me on a different day, and I'll give you a different answer.  Such distinct movies.  They couldn't be more disparate in the ways that they appeal to me.  Okay, I've made a decision… for today anyway.  Here I go again, voting with my heart instead of my head…

My choice is The Holdovers.  (I can hear your disappointment.)  Many would argue this is exactly the kind of dusty film we should be getting away from for Best Picture, and that my endorsement is the best evidence for why it shouldn't win.  Fair.  My cerebral choice would be Anatomy of a Fall -- that's the film I've spent the most time pondering over after the fact.  But The Holdovers speaks my language.  That's the best way I can describe my personal connection to it.  I wasn't alive in 1970 and I didn't go to prep school and I don't know what my history teacher smelled like.  But somehow it resonates.  This is probably the Alexander Payne movie with the most heart and the most sincerity -- and that earnestness mixed with all the gleeful bitterness and sarcasm that you expect from Payne is what makes it so gratifying.  For me anyway.  Everybody else apparently prefers to watch bombs explode.

Masquerading as a domestic drama and a legal procedural, Anatomy of a Fall is actually a puzzle -- inviting and challenging, frustrating and rewarding -- and we're not even sure we have all the pieces.  This is a good thing.  As we go through the steps of the dramatic conflict and courtroom proceedings, we are compelled to pick up pieces along the way, and try to make sense of how they fit.  We're even put through the paces as if we are being judged ourselves -- we endure the details and subjectivity and inhumanity of a trial.  (And not just any trial, a French one.  Which is nothing like American trials we see depicted in movies and TV.  It's bonkers.  I have no idea if it's accurate, but it seems that storytelling and conjecture are much more important than facts and evidence.)  For me, it's an apt allegory for any conflict where there are multiple perspectives and selective facts (e.g., anything online, or every episode of Judge Judy); I find the older I get, the more I feel this way.  By the end of the movie, when trying to draw a conclusion, we don't even know if we can trust the puzzle pieces that we've collected and stitched together.  And we're forced to confront the realization: Maybe we can never know the truth… or, more distressingly, maybe there's no such thing as the truth.

Past Lives, the least assuming of all the nominees, might feel slight compared to other films that tackle more 'important' subject matter.  (The problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world, or so they say.)  The 'what might have been' theme is tried and true, but this movie puts a different spin on it, with the Korean concept of "in-yun" -- a kind of timeless fate between people.  And the sweeping love story doesn't rely on shortcuts (overt sexiness or titillating dialogue or suggestive imagery) or manipulation (sentimental music or emotional close-ups).  First-time director Celine Song gives the naturalistic film space to breathe and time to think.  A prime example (Spoiler Warning, for those who have not seen the film) is the final exchange between Nora and Hae Sung, which is truly exquisite.  They talk about what their relationship will be (in this life and future ones), and she says she doesn't know.  Initially, I heard his restrained response as "See ya, then" -- a deflated resignation and farewell.  But as it sunk in, I heard it as "See you then," as in "I'll see you in our next life" -- not as a goodbye, but as a resolute promise that he'll wait for her forever.  Subtle and deeply affecting.  (So, what about Nora and her husband Arthur, then?  I'm still a cynic, of course; this film did not thaw my cold heart.  They seem hopelessly tired of each other… and they don't even have kids yet.  Sorry guys, time to start thinking about the next past life.)

It's a little hard to describe to someone why I like Poor Things without sounding like a depraved lunatic.  "It's a really sweet coming-of-age story about a young woman who runs away from her domineering father -- who conducted experimental surgeries on her and an undead baby -- and has a sexual awakening that takes her across an otherworldly European hellscape, leading her to a life of prostitution and revenge.  Her numerous dalliances, which are graphic and sexual but not actually sexy, could be perceived as statutory rape since she has the mind of a child.  It's really great.  Hilarious."  Of course, the film is more than that, but it's a little hard to put into words.  I can't say I relate to any of it, but the perverse humor, fanciful sensibility, and fairytale/nightmare mash-up strike a chord somehow.  Maybe its power is in allowing the viewer a wide range of interpretations -- control or chaos, losing religion or finding faith, shunning love or welcoming it -- it's all there.  A couple things hold it back from being a truly superior film for me, specifically the dark turn in the final quarter (I get the point, but I don't need it) and the occasional bluntness (using a chainsaw when a kitchen knife would do.)  Overall a rewarding experience, but it's clearly not for everyone.

American Fiction has one of the toughest challenges of the nominated films: how to balance its many themes while still making their place in the story feel natural.  It's not a breezy list: death, family trauma, financial strain, artistic integrity, stereotype fetishization, heartbreak, commodification of pain, self-serving elitism, professional disrespect, societal expectations, alienation -- mostly as they pertain to race.  The film succeeds incredibly well.  Despite the personal and touchy subject matter, it's inviting, not hostile.  And despite its density and potential weight, it's thoughtful and light on its feet.  (Categorizing it as a comedy, which has been the case during awards season, is a bit misleading; half of it is satire, with plenty of humorous moments, but it's also a drama that avoids getting bogged down.)  Best Picture is not likely where the film will get rewarded, but I have a feeling it won't go home empty-handed. 

When Killers of the Flower Moon debuted, it seemed like it might have good chance at unseating Oppenheimer as the favorite.  And while there were plenty of rapturous reviews (though it's unclear how much of the fanfare was Scorsese-worship and how much was genuine love of the film), it never quite got there.  While admirable and epic and filled with exquisite craftsmanship, it feels somehow lacking.  True, the themes of evil in the hearts of men and descent into hell are undeniable and fuel every single scene (at an hour and a half in, the situation is already pretty execrable… and then they announce the KKK is coming).  But the overall story itself doesn't quite justify the 3.5-hour runtime.  The complex web of deceit and corruption might be more compelling if every character perpetrating the crimes wasn't such a moron.  The ensuing investigation isn't exactly a chess match; it's more of a game of checkers against a five-year-old.  (Bonus points to the brainiac who asks a lawyer if it's legal to adopt children and then murder them for financial gain.)

The Barbie trailer declares that the movie is for people who love Barbie and people who hate Barbie.  But what about people who have never cared one way or the other about Barbie?  Because that's me.  So maybe not surprisingly, I neither love nor hate the movie.  It's funny, engaging, and enjoyable.  But I never saw it as a contender to vie for Best Picture.  If you've been absorbing pop-culture satire anytime in the past 60 years, you know Barbie-as-metaphor is not a novel idea -- sketch comedy, music, The Twilight Zone, movies, etc.  (How quickly we forget about Tyra Banks.)  The movie has a lot of things to say, has been a huge success, and obviously means a lot to a great many people.  But I, ever the curmudgeon, like to look with a more cynical eye: Is this a pro-consumerism movie?  Or an anti-consumerism movie?  Or a movie masquerading as pro-consumerism in order to satirize unabashed consumerism while actually convincing us of the virtues of anti-consumerism but underneath really just being a vehicle to sell merchandise for a large corporation?  (Hint: Do you think Barbie doll sales increased in 2023?)  Where are the lines between self-awareness and subversion and hypocrisy?  Only Twitter knows for sure.

“A work of art does not answer questions, it provokes them; and its essential meaning is in the tension between the contradictory answers.”  Oh boy.  That's exactly what we want to see at the beginning of a movie, right? -- a clear indication that it will leave us confused.  That quote, from Leonard Bernstein, is what opens the film Maestro.  And sure enough, it delivers on that promise: almost no answers.  As someone who knew next to nothing about the legendary conductor ahead of time, I don't know what I was expecting to get out of this experience.  And despite spending two hours with the character, I don't think I really know much now.  Does that mean I wanted a more traditional biopic, a Behind the Music episode, or a film adaptation of his Wikipedia page?  Sadly, maybe.  The movie has its fans, and nabbed several nominations, so clearly some people are responding to it.  I'm sure director/star Bradley Cooper knew there was no way to please everyone.  (Maybe that's why Steven Spielberg pawned it off on him; Spielberg had planned to direct, but handed the keys to Cooper after seeing A Star Is Born, and stayed on as a producer.  Incidentally, Spielberg actually has more nominations for producing (13) than directing (9); this film makes him the most-nominated producer ever.)  Don't expect this film to factor in the race -- as soon as Cooper missed out on a directing nomination, its Best Picture chances were dead in the water.

I'm not quite sure what to say (or how to feel) about The Zone of Interest.  Through unique sound design (what you hear rather than what you see), it's a film that highlights the atrocities of the Holocaust by presenting it with an unsettling sense of normalcy, as seen through the daily lives of the Nazi family that lives next to Auschwitz.  The banality and ignorance are the point.  The idea seems to be that anti-shock value is even more disturbing than shock value.  But it's not sneaky, it's overt.  (Case in point: the flourishes -- like the red screen, the reverse negative, or the loud screeching sounds -- which may or may not be there just to wake up any dozing audience members.)  It's easily the most polarizing of all the nominees.  Whether you appreciate the film probably depends greatly on how effective you think the approach is.  Personally, I find the technique and the structure -- and therefore, the film -- confounding, preventing me from fully connecting with it.  It strikes me more as an experience than a narrative -- novel and provocative, yes, but not successful in terms of story.  (And it may or may not be pointing a finger at modern-day museum cleaning ladies, I can't be sure.) 

My pick for Ingloriously Snubbed is The Taste of Things, which was France's submission for Best International Film (instead of Anatomy of a Fall), but shockingly didn't end up making the cut for Best Picture.  It's a 19th-century French romance between a mature monogamous couple, set in a rustic country kitchen, cooking gourmet cuisine the entire time, with no violence, swearing, or enmity. In other words: porn for my wife.

Here is my unsolicited ballot with all the Best Picture nominees, from best to worst:

The Holdovers

Anatomy of a Fall

Past Lives

Oppenheimer

Poor Things

American Fiction

Killers of the Flower Moon

Barbie

Maestro

The Zone of Interest

BEST ACTOR:

SHOULD WIN:  Cillian Murphy (Oppenheimer) WILL WIN:  Cillian Murphy (Oppenheimer) GLORIOUSLY OMITTED:  Leonardo DiCaprio (Killers of the Flower Moon) INGLORIOUSLY SNUBBED:  Ralph Fiennes (The Rat Catcher)

After months of being neck-and-neck with Paul Giamatti, Cillian Murphy has emerged as the front-runner for his work in Oppenheimer.  (Though it's not a sure thing; there's always at least one curveball on Oscar night.)  While Murphy and Giamatti both give bravura performances and are singularly perfect for their roles, Giamatti could probably do his Holdovers character in his sleep (or while eating a cheeseburger at In-N-Out).  Murphy, meanwhile, gives a performance unlike anything we've seen from him, making it seem like more of a revelation.  He certainly benefits from the year's best cinematography: framed like a portrait, wearing his hat and coat like a superhero outfit, paranoia frothing over his hard-edged face, and fish-eye-lens shots in close-up rendering him like a deer in headlights.  There's also the drama-versus-comedy bias at the Oscars, of course.  But in the end, voters will choose Murphy for delivering a career-defining performance and being the center of mass in the movie of the year.  (Then again, you could use the same description for Margot Robbie in Barbie, and we know how that turned out with the Academy.)

The central figure in The Holdovers is what you might get if you put "Paul Giamatti as a teacher" into an A.I. engine.  It is, without a doubt, the Paul Giamatti-est Paul Giamatti role ever.  And it is totally my jam (which is definitely a phrase that people still use).  After their magical collaboration in Sideways, it's hard to believe it's taken Giamatti and director Alexander Payne almost 20 years to team up again.  (Then again, I realize "grouchy Paul Giamatti star vehicle" is probably not high on many studios' wish lists.)  Readers of this article over the years (both of you) know he's a first-ballot Snubbed Hall of Famer: American Splendor in 2004, Sideways in 2005, and Should Win / Will Win for Cinderella Man in 2006.  And so, of course, this year I'm picking… someone else to win.  As much as it betrays the very fabric of my being, I think I have to endorse Murphy for Best Actor.  In terms of Oscar bait, Giamatti is missing a key element: The Big Emotional Speech.  You can almost picture it -- at the end, when he praises his student to his parents in front of the headmaster -- it could easily be a three-minute swooning monologue, full of lionizing epithets, clever wordplay, and inspirational Greek quotes, providing dramatic salvation for the boy while heartbreakingly sacrificing his own career, eliciting cheers as you uncontrollably and elatedly shout at the screen through tear-filled eyes, "O Captain!  My Captain!" or "You're the man now, dog!"  The Big Emotional Speech would have secured the Oscar immediately.  But that doesn't happen.  Payne doesn't subvert it (as you might expect), he simply avoids it.  That's not Payne, and that sure as hell isn't this movie.  True to life, Giamatti effectively sacrifices the Oscar by dutifully serving the film.  Like the Hall of Famer he is.

With American Fiction, Jeffrey Wright finally relinquishes the title of Greatest Living Actor to Never Be Nominated.  (On the ladies' side, Emily Blunt does the same with Oppenheimer.)  You may recall that I accurately predicted a nomination for Wright two years ago (never mind the fact that I said it would be for a different film this year, Asteroid City).  With Fiction, Wright elevates the already-crackling material in a way that I don’t think anyone else could.  He seems extremely at ease with his character, despite the fact that the character is not at ease at all.  His is probably the most believable portrayal in this race, a person you might know in real life.  (Like, I would probably be his despised neighbor, Phillip.)  He has some momentum here at the end of Oscar voting, having the most recent movie and winning the Indie Spirit Award, but it won't be enough to pull him ahead of Murphy or Giamatti.  (I'm sure he'll take solace in the fact that I have him in a virtual three-way tie with those two actors for Should Win.) 

If the Best Actor award is for who wants it the most, Bradley Cooper would win hands down for Maestro.  The man is campaigning hard.  If you've seen or heard one of the 5,000 interviews he's done this season, you know what I'm talking about.  How Leonard Bernstein was speaking through him.  How he trained 36 hours a day to be a conductor.  How he was handpicked to direct the project by God (a.k.a. Steven Spielberg).  In each interview, he makes sure to weep at least once and tries to work in the story where The Hangover director Todd Phillips told him he wished he believed in himself as much as Phillips did.  To his credit, it all seems very earnest.  I truly believe that handwritten notes from Michael Mann make him cry, and I truly believe that he very much wants to accept an Oscar.  As for the performance, it's transformative, but often feels like it slips into caricature, especially in the second half -- it's like Joe Piscopo doing Frank Sinatra, with Ben Stiller's Maury Finkle and Rick Moranis's Merv Griffin sprinkled in.  And as far as character motivation, I'm not entirely sure -- he seems to have two pursuits: getting summer to sing in him and humping anyone with nice hair.  As actor, writer, and producer of the film, Cooper adds three nominations to his previous nine.  But at the end of the night, the hardest-wanting man in show business will be 0 for 12, I'm afraid.  

After years (decades!) of admirable work in supporting roles, it's nice to see Rustin's Colman Domingo get recognition in a star-making turn.  It's just a shame it's not a better movie overall.  The screenplay aside, the film has the immobility of a walled-in stage play, with performances that play to the back row.  (Maybe not coincidentally, director George C. Wolfe has a highly-accomplished career in theater.)  Everyone in the ensemble seems to be overdoing it by about 10% (even Jeffrey Wright, who's so great in American Fiction), with a striking lack of naturalism (especially when compared to, say, Past Lives, which got zero acting nominations).  As such, Domingo, playing real-life activist Bayard Rustin, feels a bit broad early on; but he's at his best in the final act, when the performance rises to meet the poignance of the events in the film. 

Ralph Fiennes, my Ingloriously Snubbed choice for The Rat Catcher, is the best argument for why performances in short films should be eligible for Acting Oscars. 

BEST ACTRESS:

SHOULD WIN:  Emma Stone (Poor Things) WILL WIN:  Lily Gladstone (Killers of the Flower Moon) GLORIOUSLY OMITTED:  Natalie Portman (May December) INGLORIOUSLY SNUBBED:  Juliette Binoche (The Taste of Things)

As we come down to the wire, it seems that Lily Gladstone is edging past Emma Stone, for her heart-wrenching role in Killers of the Flower Moon.  They've been deadlocked most of the season; just a few days ago I would have said Stone had the slight edge.  But the Screen Actors Guild award tips the race in Gladstone's favor.  Really, it's still up for grabs, but if I were wagering, I wouldn’t bet against Gladstone.  And while she gives a strong and effecting performance, she's not quite my top choice -- though it has more to do with the film itself.  Despite being the lynchpin of the movie, I don't quite believe the love story between her character and Leonardo DiCaprio's.  Her character seems too savvy and too emotionally mature to fall for DiCaprio's halfwit baloney.  And because that relationship is so essential to the narrative (and true to life, according to their descendants), and because it allows the viewer to understand how so many awful events in the story take place, my disbelief causes much of the film to fall apart.  And unfortunately, it's holding me back from fully endorsing her performance.

Emma Stone gives an astonishing, hilarious, and frank performance in Poor Things, as her character goes on a globe-trotting adventure of self-discovery and sexual awakening.  (She could be the protagonist of the Seinfeld movie-within-the-show, 'Rochelle, Rochelle'.)  She's my slight pick for Should Win over Sandra Hüller, based on the high level of difficulty in her role: She has to portray the mental and physical evolution of a child growing to adulthood in a woman's body (as well as portray a lot of "furious jumping") -- and despite the inherent bizarreness, none of it ever comes across as false.  Her journey feels shocking, but also inevitable.  Despite being manipulated by her 'father', she follows in his footsteps, using increasingly-scientific curiosity and methods to evaluate things, people, and experiences.  (You know, she's something of a scientist herself.)  Having won already for La La Land, many voters will be happy to give the award to someone else.  But for my money, Stone's Poor Things performance blows La La Land away.  (And I still hold a grudge against La La Land for crapping on A Flock of Seagulls.)

Watching Sandra Hüller's character, who's accused of murder in Anatomy of a Fall, she's like Schrödinger's Cat -- she's both guilty and not guilty.  She skillfully draws us into her perspective while somehow keeping her distance; we empathize with her, but we never know what she's thinking.  Upon that intimate unknowability, she adds more complex layers -- love for her son, knowing that she'll be judged in the public's eye even if she's found innocent, and arguing a point that she doesn't believe (or says she doesn't believe) for the sake of her defense.  It's a remarkable turn from an actress largely unknown in the United States.  Hüller may benefit from double-dipping (she's also fantastic in The Zone of Interest), but voters are clearly considering this a contest between Lily Gladstone and Emma Stone. 

In another year, Carey Mulligan might get my vote for her performance in Maestro.  Director and co-star Bradley Cooper has been vocal about Mulligan being the true star of the movie.  She's a formidable foil for Cooper in the first half, though she risks veering into affectation.  That changes in the second half, when the film ratchets up, and Mulligan's performance ascends, becoming more naturalistic and bare -- and as a result, more connected to the audience.  It's a showcase for the breadth of her talent.  Through it all, she more than holds her own in the cacophony of argumentative dialogue that gives the film its signature melody. 

Why are we doing this?  Why do we keep doing this to poor Annette Bening?  Nominating her again when she has no chance to win?  She doesn't need our charity.  Her fifth nomination (for Nyad) feels like an unnecessary courtesy, especially given the number of other deserving actresses this year (more on that later).  To be fair, at the outset of Oscar season, this seemed -- on paper anyway -- like a great shot for Bening to finally land the trophy: a biopic of a complicated real-life character, a unique story about a mind-boggling accomplishment, a punishing physical performance, a commentary about age and perseverance, and a potential showcase for emotion and drama.  Unfortunately, the movie itself, about long-distance open-water swimmer Diana Nyad, is less than amazing, and her performance probably suffers because of it.  She finds better footing (swimming?) in the second half of the film, however, when stilted dialogue and imitation give way to more authentic emotion.  A bit of a surprise when nominations were read, Bening will have to hope for another crack at Oscar glory in a better movie.  Regardless, I suspect she's doing just fine without us.

As for my pick for Ingloriously Snubbed… Thought I was going to say Margot Robbie for Barbie?  I actually preferred her (abbreviated) performance in Asteroid City -- her scene was my favorite in the film.  I have a few actresses I'd nominate over Robbie: The official choice is Juliette Binoche (The Taste of Things), but Greta Lee (Past Lives) and Zar Amir Ebrahimi (Shayda) would also be worthy inclusions. 

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR:

SHOULD WIN:  Robert Downey Jr. (Oppenheimer) WILL WIN:  Robert Downey Jr. (Oppenheimer) GLORIOUSLY OMITTED:  Charles Melton (May December) INGLORIOUSLY SNUBBED:  Willem Dafoe (Poor Things)

There's little doubt that Robert Downey Jr. will win his first Oscar for Oppenheimer.  Voters are responding to an overwhelming sense of "it's his time", "the movie is awesome", and "he gives a great acceptance speech" (oh, and "his performance is good").  A question they may ask, before casting their vote in the supporting category, is whether they think Downey has an Oscar-winning lead performance in him sometime in the future.  (If Dolittle is any indication, probably not.)  Personally, I'm not quite sure who to endorse, in a group of solid if not electrifying performances.  (See Ingloriously Snubbed for my real pick.)  It's maybe more of a process of elimination, but ultimately I land on Downey too.  It's not exactly his most dynamic or captivating performance ever, but for a supporting role, he delivers the goods without going all 'Downey'.  And, I'm not going to lie, I'm rooting for him too… I mean, he does give a great acceptance speech.  (One lament about Oppenheimer's supporting roles: I wish they would have gotten Gene Hackman out of retirement, just so he could say the word "Oppenheimer" in his signature growl -- à la his Oppenheimer Funds commercials of yore.)

Just a few short years ago, I gave Robert De Niro a rare double-helping of Gloriously Omitted (for The Irishman and Joker) and suggested he hang up his holster.  I'm happy to say the calls for his retirement were premature.  Killers of the Flower Moon is the best De Niro in years (decades?) and his first well-earned nomination since 1991's Cape Fear.  It's vintage De Niro, full of menace and manipulation -- a schemer who's just wise enough to know that he doesn't have to outsmart everyone, just the guy next to him.  (In a movie landscape full of shared universes, is it possible this role is a Louis Cyphre origin story?)

It seemed inevitable that voters were going to include one of the standout supporting performances in Poor Things -- either Mark Ruffalo or Willem Dafoe.  While I would have picked the other one (see below), this is probably the silliest, most dynamic, and (intentionally) funniest Ruffalo we've ever seen.  (No "They knew!" grandstanding here.)  It's unlike any part he's ever played, and his odd vocalizations serve him well in the role.  Despite being the 'adult' in his relationship with Emma Stone's character, he really nails the I-didn't-get-my-way pouting that every parent knows well.  While effective, it ultimately feels like he's play-acting a bit, instead of authentically inhabiting the role, so voters won't be swayed to give him the award.

Well, one doll we know won't be represented in Barbieland is Oscar Winner Ken.  Ryan Gosling is more than game in Barbie, but this is probably the film's least likely shot at a trophy.  Maybe Gosling's Ken can use his clicky-pen doctor powers to explain to me what the point of the Mattel sub-plot is and what the corporation is doing in the movie.  I don't mean what Mattel represents, I mean what they literally do.  Like, how do the Patriarchy Ken dolls get manufactured so fast?  The Ken revolution (and corresponding mass production) seems to happen in the span of a day, without any involvement from the company.  Does Mattel make dolls, or do the dolls somehow self-manifest based on the actions of the Barbieland characters with Mattel just reaping the benefits?  Basically, I don't understand any of the Mattel movie logic.  (And Will Ferrell clearly doesn't either.)

Sterling K. Brown was a bit of a late-breaking surprise for his part in American Fiction.  After three Emmy awards and a bunch of recent nominations -- so many nominations -- it seemed inevitable that an Oscar nod was going to happen for him sooner or later (though his movie career has taken longer to fully launch than expected).  While he has no real shot to win, his nomination is likely an indication of things to come.  (An even surer sign that he's made it is that he's created sworn enemies -- the sincerest form of flattery in Hollywood -- in Charles Melton and Willem Dafoe, two actors that were hoping to get his slot.)

Speaking of Charles Melton… I am, apparently, the only one on planet Earth that is not blown away by Melton's performance in May December.  I understand that as a victim of trauma at an early age, his character is supposed to be stunted and withdrawn.  But where viewers and critics alike find his performance mesmerizing and chilling, I find it… well, oafish and flat.  ("Yes, of course it is!" the Internet yells at me.  "That's because he's broken inside, you inconsiderate monster!")  Okay.  I get it.  Actually, I don't.  The performance doesn't strike me as particularly nuanced or engaging.  ("But he has an emotional breakdown in front of his son who's half his age but twice as mature!  The fact that they're totally baked and weirdly sitting on the roof of the house make it all the more poignant, you cretin!")  Sigh.  Every commenter out there anointed him the Oscar winner long before nominations were announced.  ("He's so perfect they should rename the category after him!")  I was unconvinced.  And so, it turns out, was a large portion of the Academy.  What will hindsight say?  I've watched the film again, and, with everyone so passionate about the authenticity of his performance, I'm willing to admit that I may be wrong about it.  On second thought, no.  I'm not.  And so I dub him Gloriously Omitted.  (A couple silly honorable mentions: Brendan Fraser, for showing up to yell for 10 seconds in Killers of the Flower Moon; and Jesse Tyler Ferguson, for treating Cocaine Bear like it's a sequel to Wet Hot American Summer.)

There's only one choice for Snubbed: Willem Dafoe in Poor Things, as the Scientist, or as the Father, or as Dr. Frankenstein.  (Or as God, if you like.)  In fact, he'd be my choice to win the Oscar over all the actual nominees.  His performance feels strangely authentic, despite the fact that his is probably the most audacious and ludicrous in the movie.  There's no note of novelty in his performance (which is something I can't say about his screen-mate, Mark Ruffalo).  It's as if Dafoe's long history of weirdo characters has led him to this wonderful culmination of superlative oddness.  Some other smaller performances worth mentioning: Tom Conti in Oppenheimer (I seem to be the only one who likes his goofball Einstein), Rhys Ifans in Nyad (the shaggy, underrated soul of the impossible quests), and Milo Machado Graner in Anatomy of a Fall (the gifted child at the heart of the film). 

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS:

SHOULD WIN:  Da'Vine Joy Randolph (The Holdovers) WILL WIN:  Da'Vine Joy Randolph (The Holdovers) GLORIOUSLY OMITTED:  Julianne Moore (May December) INGLORIOUSLY SNUBBED:  Viola Davis (Air)

The two leading contenders are the ones that (not coincidentally) have the best and most complete parts in their respective films.  The first is Da'Vine Joy Randolph, the runaway choice for her role as a grieving yet tender mother/coworker/road-trip-buddy in The Holdovers.  She's arguably the third lead in the film, with her own standalone story and well-developed characterization.  Typically a comedic actress, she gives her character a sense of faded warmth and vitality in the wake of recent difficulties.  She's never been my official Snubbed choice, but she's been in consideration for standout performances in Dolemite Is My Name and The United States vs. Billie Holiday (not to mention as the comically fed-up but dogged investigator in Only Murders in the Building).  (Good thing I'm not giving awards for Best Accent -- I'm not really sure what's going on with her occasional Boston inflection in The Holdovers.  She evidently didn't study Ben Affleck's Dunkin' Donuts Super Bowl commercial.)

Danielle Brooks similarly benefits from a fantastic part in The Color Purple, and she fully capitalizes on it.  The film brims with supporting roles that voters probably considered for nominations, but Brooks brings a unique (and welcome) energy to the film; each scene she's in changes the dynamics of the entire piece.  Her nomination is a no-brainer, encapsulating pretty much everything the Academy likes in a supporting performance.  She gets to sing, dance, and throw a punch -- but the role and screentime are less than what Randolph has to work with, so she won't realistically challenge for the prize.  But getting her own catchphrase ("Hell no!") isn't a bad consolation. 

Barbie has been called a lot of things -- smarter and dumber minds than mine have seen to that -- but one thing that stands out to me is that it's a sneaky coming-of-age story.  But unlike director Greta Gerwig's previous films (Lady Bird and Little Women), we realize halfway through that it's a coming-of-age story for the mother character (which makes it a coming-of-middle-age story, I guess?).  So the film in many ways is just as much about America Ferrera's character as it is Barbie herself.  I think that is a big reason why so many people (and voters) have responded to her performance, beyond her "Woman" monologue.  However, Ferrera's best performance of the year may have been trying to look impressed while co-presenter Kevin Costner awkwardly fumbled his way through an excerpt of her now-famous monologue at the Golden Globes.  Yikes.  (Bonus points to her for spoofing the speech in the Oscars promo video with Jimmy Kimmel.)

I think voters may have been grading on a curve when nominating Jodie Foster for Nyad.  It's a competent performance, but I personally don't think it's anything out of the ordinary; the fact that it's in a middling film with underwritten dialogue doesn't help.  I suspect that since she doesn't appear in many movies anymore, voters were enthused to see her on-screen, and lazily gravitated to her, over less-conventional performances from other actresses.  She'll get a True Detective bump (like Matthew McConaughey, Mahershala Ali, and Rachel McAdams before her), but she's no threat to collect her third trophy. 

While it's helpful to be graded on a curve, it's even better to be part of the snowball effect.  Case in point: Emily Blunt in Oppenheimer.  There's no real way to sugarcoat it: the nomination is week.  There's simply not much for her to do.  But Oppenheimer is rolling through town, and it's carrying a lot of people with it.  So her nomination has seemed inevitable since last summer.  The only surprise is realizing that she's never been nominated for anything else (like The Devil Wears Prada, The Young Victoria, Into the Woods, Sicario, A Quiet Place, Mary Poppins Returns, or The Girl on the Train).  Despite being her only nominated role, Oppenheimer probably won't even make the highlight reel of her career.  (At least her character has more to do -- albeit with less consequence -- than Rami Malek.)

The year had a lot of fun and interesting smaller roles, many of which weren't actually in contention for the Oscars, but are worth mentioning: Viola Davis is the obvious choice for Air, but it's certainly not her most memorable work.  Sandra Hüller (in The Zone of Interest) is a bright spot in a film I otherwise didn't love.  Kerry O'Malley is memorable in The Killer for what is essential a cameo.  (I hope she had a stunt double.)  Kate McKinnon is perfect in Barbie.  (I'm waiting for an announcement of a Weird Barbie spin-off.)  And Teyonah Parris: I'm not necessarily citing her role in The Marvels, but after doing action, horror, and drama, I would recommend a big-budget rom-com -- she has the best (and most under-used) smile in Hollywood. 

BEST DIRECTOR:

SHOULD WIN:  Justine Triet (Anatomy of a Fall) WILL WIN:  Christopher Nolan (Oppenheimer) GLORIOUSLY OMITTED:  Bradley Cooper (Maestro) INGLORIOUSLY SNUBBED:  Alexander Payne (The Holdovers)

This is the strongest lock of the night: Christopher Nolan for Oppenheimer.  But there is still intrigue with this category… specifically, after winning every single award of the season, how long can Nolan continue to pretend to be surprised and grateful and humble?  I don't think he can keep it up.  I think on Oscar night, upon his crowning achievement, he'll finally say, "We all knew I was going to win, I'm better than all these hacks, and it is long overdue."  A little honesty and pompousness would be refreshing.  (After many months of officially giving no comment on the Barbenheimer phenomenon and clearly having no patience for all the viral marketing nonsense, maybe he will finally tell us what he really thinks of Barbie.)  Perhaps he'll reveal how autobiographical his film actually is.  I'm not the only one who strongly suspects that it's a meta-commentary on the world at large not understanding his films and the negative reviewers not appreciating his genius.  (Lydon Johnson might as well be giving J.R. Oppenheimer a gold statuette instead of the Fermi Award at the end of the film, years after having his Inception Security Clearance revoked.)  And of course, Nolan is the obvious choice for Should Win… right?  I mean, how could he not be?  …Right?  Or…

…But then there's Justine Triet, director of Anatomy of a Fall.  While her film may lack the spectacle of Oppenheimer, she finds subtler ways to make it engaging and keep the viewer glued to the screen.  Through twisty psychology, magnetic performances, alternating points of view, DIY detective work, confounding legal proceedings, and shifting blame (plus a dog who may know more than everyone else), she keeps us highly invested while daring us to doubt the main character.  The film is long, but effectively so; Triet puts the viewer into the center of the arduous situation, frustrating us along with the protagonist.  It's a balancing act that could collapse at any time, but Triet keeps it all together.  So for the effect she has on the viewer, and the way she orchestrates all the components to tell the most engrossing story, I choose her for my Should Win.  (But if I'm being honest, that probably won't keep me from rooting for Nolan, one of my favorite directors over the past two decades.  Had he already won for Dunkirk, like I said he should, then I wouldn't be conflicted.)

From a visual perspective, I probably like the look of Yorgos Lanthimos's Poor Things best of all the Director nominees.  A Victorian fever dream with production design on steroids, the visual style matches the absurdity of the characters and the journeys they're on.  Elements that shouldn't go together end up meshing in a lovely but jarring, unique but familiar way.  It's a Frankenstein movie that evokes the aesthetic of a different monster movie -- Francis Ford Coppola's Dracula.  There are also strong influences from The Wizard of Oz and Alice in Wonderland, of course.  The city of Alexandria is straight out of Dr. Seuss's 'Oh, the Thinks You Can Think' (I was half expecting to see the Vipper of Vipp).  Much of the iconography seems heavily influenced by the Follies numbers in The Great Ziegfeld from almost 90 years ago.  And then it throws in some retro-future steampunk elements, just to irritate the European History teachers.  (I'd love to hear what Paul Giamatti's Holdovers character would say.)  I can't say I loved Poor Things quite as much as Lanthimos's previous effort, The Favourite, but he's become a must-see director for me. 

Killers of the Flower Moon gives Martin Scorsese his 10th Best Director nomination, vaulting him past his old nemesis Steven Spielberg for most by a living director.  (William Wyler is the all-time king, with 12.)  As Scorsese nears the end of his career, many thought this would be the grand finale and score him an elusive second statue, putting him in elite company.  But Christopher Nolan, his new nemesis, said, "Not so fast."  Were it not for Oppenheimer, I could easily see Scorsese winning; Flower Moon is one of his best-looking films (it looks a hundred times better than The Irishman).  It's also one of his best-sounding films -- without being able to lean on the Rolling Stones, he got a magnificent composition from Robbie Robertson (who passed away a few months ago), the kind of foreboding score that I really respond to, that isn't overly-manipulative or doesn't do too much heavy lifting (<cough> Oppenheimer <cough>).  It's also probably the most sensitive film he's made in years; instead of focusing primarily on the FBI investigation (which would have been in his wheelhouse), he refocused the story on "love, trust, and betrayal", after hearing input from members of the Osage Nation.  However, one hang-up I have is the radio-play ending, which felt awkward and blunt.  There's something dissatisfying about not seeing the characters meet their fate.  Maybe that’s the point… or maybe editor Thelma Schoonmaker said, "We gotta wrap this up."

This year's unconventional nominee, Jonathan Glazer, is an acquired taste, and certainly not for everyone.  With his résumé of button-pushing films (Sexy Beast, Birth, Under the Skin), he's not exactly a family-friendly director.  (My generation knows him as the director of Jamiroquai's iconic 'Virtual Insanity' video in the '90s, which won him an MTV Moonman Award.  Maybe he's going for a MEGOT?)  Glazer has jokingly referred to his film The Zone of Interest as "Big Brother in the Nazi house" -- which is not totally inaccurate.  A more serious comparison might be Jeanne Dielman…, or other European observational 'slow cinema' films.  Glazer goes to great lengths to make the film the inverse of what you might expect from a Holocaust film; visually, it's not graphic or assaulting or visceral, but thanks to the sounds he puts in the background (the "second film", he calls it), it is those things in your imagination.  The film goads and baits the viewer in ways no other film in my memory does.  I'm afraid to say it doesn't totally work for me, at least not as intended.  I can't help but feel like it's a lot of pretense lacquered onto subject matter that probably doesn't need it.  Glazer is clearly an artist of immense talent, who refuses to conform to conventions… which is another way of saying that he's probably a producer's nightmare.  I'm guessing in school he was often told how much potential he had by frustrated teachers threatening to fail him.  I just hope he someday channels that potential into a film that works for me (preferably one that includes a catchy tune, funky dancing, and a trippy moving floor).

I'm not sure if Maestro is well directed, but it's certainly very directed.  I'm guessing I'm not the only one that has director Bradley Cooper on the Gloriously Omitted list.  The film is full of pizazz and talent, but what's perhaps more fascinating than the film itself is the irresponsible psychological excavating we might do about its author.  How much of it is self-examination of Cooper himself and his thirsty quest for artistic recognition?  Only his therapist knows for sure, but I'd wager that the movie teaches us more about Bradley Cooper than Leonard Bernstein.  Honorable mentions to David Fincher for The Killer, doing less of what he does best, and Todd Haynes for May December, doing… well, I don't know what the hell he's doing.  (More on that in Original Screenplay.)

Under the singular direction of Alexander Payne, The Holdovers is like a warm, scratchy wool blanket at grandma's house -- despite the discomfort and awkwardness, it's so cozy and so familiarly specific that you never want to leave.  I'm a sucker for his analog-film aesthetic -- I relish Payne's version of the 1970s more than other retro nostalgia-porn, like Licorice Pizza or Dazed and Confused.  His omission was my biggest disappointment on nomination day, and is my easy Snubbed choice.  Other worthy contenders include Celine Song for Past Lives and Anh Hung Tran for The Taste of Things.  Song, a first-time film director, frames her shots in Past Lives like an old pro.  Perhaps my favorite is when the Greta Lee character (the center of gravity in the film) leaves the two men alone together.  The shot starts wide, as if it's unmoored by her departure, and calls attention to her absence.  But then as the men talk and make their own connection, the frame becomes anchored, centering on them and slowly pushing in.  But just subtly -- perfectly.  On the other end of the spectrum, Tran's sweeping camera work in The Taste of Things heightens the culinary experience that is the soul of the film.  While extremely complex and painstakingly choreographed, it feels effortless and looks natural, never calling attention to itself.  He also eschews a musical score, so the camera highlights the sounds of the gourmet kitchen -- and those sounds effectively become the score, providing surprising rhythm and melody. 

BEST ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY:

SHOULD WIN:  Arthur Harari, Justine Triet (Anatomy of a Fall) WILL WIN:  Arthur Harari, Justine Triet (Anatomy of a Fall) GLORIOUSLY OMITTED:  Christos Nikou, Stavros Raptis, Sam Steiner (Fingernails) INGLORIOUSLY SNUBBED:  Alex Convery (Air)

There's an interesting phenomenon with the nominated writers this year: three of the films are written by domestic partners (Anatomy of a Fall, May December, and Barbie).  And appropriately (or alarmingly), those films also happen to include major conflicts between the sexes.  (I had assumed Greta Gerwig and Noah Baumbach had hashed everything out during Marriage Story.)  Anatomy of a Fall, written by Arthur Harari and Justine Triet, seems like it would be cause for concern for the couple.  Do we think a story about a woman who may or may not have killed her husband with zero remorse is a red flag?  I can imagine their writing style… 

Justine: [At the keyboard.]  Arthur: [Turns up music.]  Justine: "The husband is listening to his annoying music… and then he mysteriously falls off a third-story balcony to his death!"  Arthur: Shall I turn down the music, love? 

Assuming they haven't killed each other before then, I expect Harari and Triet will collect the Original Screenplay Oscar together. 

But it's far from a lock.  The script for The Holdovers (written by David Hemingson) has a good chance to sneak in.  It has the uncanny ability to make me nostalgic for things I've never known, places I've never been to, life before I was born, and experiences I've never actually wanted. 

Another strong contender and possible spoiler is Past Lives, the story of a love that defies the limits of time and distance… or the story of an Uber that shows up just a little too quickly.  Writer/director Celine Song, with her first film, handles the script with the delicacy of someone with decades more experience.  The film deals with the ideas of fate and free will, not just in this lifetime but across many lifetimes.  It also references another fantastic screenplay: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.  That film is specifically mentioned by a character, but its themes of repeating connections and the inevitability of love (even when relationships fail and heartbreak is inescapable) also reverberate throughout the story and dialogue of Past Lives.  Eternal Sunshine won Best Original Screenplay 20 years ago; even if Past Lives doesn't win, it's a worthy successor. 

After watching Maestro, I'm still wondering what Leonard Bernstein has to do with the end of the world as we know it.  The script, written by Bradley Cooper and Josh Singer, is probably the least compelling of the bunch here.  I'm equally fascinated and frustrated by the dialogue; it's like Bernstein's music -- boisterous, abrupt, busy, discordant, jarring, overlapping… and, probably intentionally, difficult to fully understand.  Aside from never saying what they actually mean, characters talk over each other and -- more crucially -- past each other.  I get to the end of a scene and wonder, What did I just listen to?  What are they fighting about?  I heard words, and yelling, and disagreement, but I don't actually know the meaning of what they said to each other.  The characters do not seem to be confused, but I am.  If the dialogue in the film isn't for you, at least you can smile at the Snoopy Thanksgiving Parade Balloon metaphor (which, like life, literally goes by without Bernstein seeing it). 

May December (directed by Todd Haynes, written by Samy Burch and Alex Mechanik) was at one time a strong Oscar contender in several categories, but ended up an also-ran.  Its lone nomination is for screenplay, and for me, it's a hard one to wrap my head around.  How to interpret the melodrama-run-amok that we see onscreen?  Upon a second viewing, it's clear that there's more than a healthy zesting of camp (if you're not sure, remember that Haynes is the guy that made Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story -- with plastic dolls).  Here's my theory on how to reconcile the film (if you haven't seen it, skip this paragraph): We are not seeing reality; we are seeing the movie that Natalie Portman's character (the actress) is picturing in her head.  She is imagining the events of her research and interaction with the family as a melodramatic episode.  In her mind, she's picturing it play out as if it's her idea of a prestigious Oscar-type film.  But since she's not very talented, she's imagining it in an over-the-top, overly-performative, amateurish way.  So to Portman's character, it's supposed to be sophisticated, but it comes off (to us) as campy -- dramatic music, overt sexual tension, deceptive wife, boy-toy husband, evocative imagery, a lisp for a character tic, and herself as the sly (but ridiculous) seductress.  Since she doesn't have a deep imagination, she rips off other movies -- specifically her favorite prestige movie from her formative childhood: The Silence of the Lambs.  So she infuses the story with all kinds of Lambs elements that, of course, don't work at all in this narrative: butterflies, 1990s thriller score, a pet-shop stockroom that looks like Buffalo Bill's basement, a dark X-ray lab, face-to-face interrogation, characters looking into the camera.  But she's no Jonathan Demme, so her version of it is terrible, of course.  She thinks she's Clarice Starling, but she can't outwit Julianne Moore's Hannibal Lector.  (The film even casts Moore, who played Starling… but not in the original; instead she was in the second-rate, non-Demme sequel.)  We get to the end and see Portman's character has been deluding herself, stuck in a purgatory of basic-cable mediocrity.

If I name Asteroid City as my choice for Gloriously Omitted, will my Wes Anderson Fan Club membership be revoked?  It's… (choosing my words carefully here)… not one of his best.  I would probably go easier on the movie if 1) he hadn't included the scene with Adrien Brody and Margot Robbie, which is easily the most electric scene in the film, and made wish he made that movie instead, and 2) he hadn't also made The Rat Catcher, which I love, in the same year (see: the Adapted Screenplay category).  To be on the safe side, I'll go with Fingernails (written by Christos Nikou, Stavros Raptis, and Sam Steiner).  What a great premise.  What a boring execution.  The pitch: In an alternate reality, true love can be scientifically tested by ripping the fingernails off two people and putting them in a microwave-looking-thingamabob.  The experience: Dull people sitting around doing their mundane jobs or watching TV and passively doubting or projecting their feelings, failing to make us believe any of these mopes could possibly be in love with each other.  It should have been a lot weirder or a lot shorter -- it could have made a helluva Black Mirror episode.  (As it is, it's still better than any of the actual episodes in the latest season of Black Mirror.)  Honorable Mention unfortunately goes to celebrated writers Dustin Lance Black and Julian Breece for Rustin's script.  The film takes a dynamic figure playing a pivotal role in landmark events in history, and makes the experience feel educational instead of cinematic.  The screenplay often verbalizes the subtext, and makes it text.  You can practically hear a producer's reductive notes coming through in the stale dialogue.  A missed opportunity.

BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY:

SHOULD WIN:  Tony McNamara (Poor Things) WILL WIN:  Cord Jefferson (American Fiction) GLORIOUSLY OMITTED:  Julia Cox (Nyad) INGLORIOUSLY SNUBBED:  Wes Anderson (The Rat Catcher)

All the scripts in the Adapted category are smart and challenging, and interrogate what we think (or what we think we think) about well-established events, people, and perceptions (and toys).  A favorite among voters this year (and the likely winner) is American Fiction, the first film written and directed by Cord Jefferson.  All the films in this category confront the preconceived notions in different ways, but I think American Fiction does it more elegantly that the others.  My only reservation about the script is the ending.  (Some spoilers here.)  We come to form a relationship with Jeffrey Wright's character and become invested in his story.  So it's a letdown when we get a satirical resolution, instead of a sincere, meaningful one.  (I realize that's the point -- the character doesn't get to finish his own story, and he's succumbed to the idea of simply giving paying audiences the pandering ending that they think they want.)  We're left to question not only what happens to him, but also whether he's at peace with his choices.  Like the character himself, we feel a bit unfulfilled.  But I suppose that's life. 

Oppenheimer has yet to win a major screenplay award during the Oscar run-up, so despite it steamrolling through most categories, it's looking less and less likely to win here… but don't count it out.  With Christopher Nolan a sure bet to collect trophies for Director and Picture, voters will likely use this category to spread the love around.  And I agree with them; screenplay is not Oppenheimer's strongest suit.  Despite all the timeline chicanery, it's mostly a courtroom drama (never mind the fact that characters keep saying it's not a court).  More than that, it's a courtroom drama with low stakes.  Do we really care if Oppenheimer loses his security clearance?  Nolan's screenplay acrobatics try to trick us into thinking we care.  But we do not.  (And his framing device, despite being an attention-grabber, is ultimately inconsequential.  But don't tell Rami Malek that.)  In the script's defense, what I think Nolan is really trying to do is reclaim -- or at least reframe or question -- important (and very consequential) events in history.  And he succeeds in that.  (One final script critique: The movie goes out of its way to make the Trinity test extremely intense, but my wife will tell you, the most harrowing part of the movie is the relentless sound of the poor crying baby.  Good lord.)

If you're looking for a potential upset, the intense nomination-snub backlash for Barbie could propel it to a win here, as a way to reward writer/director Greta Gerwig (and co-writer Noah Baumbach).  The concept of a toy or doll coming to life is not exactly a new idea, so the core idea for Barbie is not terribly original.  Think of Pinocchio, The Lego Movie(s), The Nutcracker, Small Soldiers, Wreck-It Ralph, Mannequin, Annabelle, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, Ted, Child's Play… even Barbie herself in the Toy Story movies.  They all yearn for (and usually get) agency over their own lives, and 'write their own story'.  (Well… the screenwriters, like Gerwig and Baumbach, actually write their stories.)  Within that construct, Barbie manages to take on some big ideas about humanity, womanhood, mortality, and feet.  When it comes to screenplays with fantastical premises, I tend to get hung up on the in-movie logic.  A small sampling: What's the relationship between the Barbieland Barbies and the actual toys?  Is there one Barbieland Barbie for every single toy?  If so, there would be over a billion of them, and many of them would theoretically look the same.  And Margot Robbie wouldn't be the first doll to be outgrown and discarded.  Or is it one Barbieland Barbie for every toy model?  If that's the case, then that would mean that thousands of people have a toy that corresponds to Margot Robbie, not just America Ferrera.  So wouldn't those people all have influence over her?  Why is Ferrera the only one impacting her?  But then how to explain Weird Barbie?  Per the movie, Weird Barbie started as a standard model (maybe the Margot Robbie model?), and then got played with too rough.  If it's one Barbieland Barbie for each individual toy, shouldn't there be a ton of Weird Barbies?  And shouldn't their faces all look like the other standard Barbies that they originated from?  Or if it's one Barbieland Barbie per model, then how did a single toy being mangled cause an entire model (with thousands of corresponding toys) to become Weird?  (And I wonder why people hate watching movies with me.) 

With movies, I have a tendency to laugh at things that are audacious, even if they're aren't conventionally funny.  It's an expression of shock and bemusement, more than actual humor.  As a result, I'm often the only one laughing in a movie theater.  (Which just thrills my wife.)  And so I spent a lot of time laughing at Poor Things (written by Tony McNamara).  Don't get me wrong, the film is hilarious, wickedly so… but, understandably, not everyone appreciates the humor.  But the audacity is where it truly excels and sets itself apart.  In a category where any of the films could win, this is my pick for what should win.

I've already written at length about my lack of connection to The Zone of Interest (written by Jonathan Glazer).  It's hard to judge the screenplay, when the directorial style overwhelms any real sense of story.  Strong narrative is paramount to me.  And this isn't that.  To be fair, tidy storytelling and artful subtlety are not the film's aim; decrying complicity is.  But Glazer's choice of contrasting audio and visual is a risky gambit, and the film is not as affecting for me as others covering a similar topic.  I guess the important thing is that it calls into question whether we really remember the atrocities as an urgent warning, or if we breeze past them like a dusty museum piece -- just another rote, distant history lesson.  (It can also be perversely seen as an outside commentary on the hollowness of the "American Dream", but I don't personally buy into that reading.)

This is probably unfair, but I'm giving Gloriously Omitted to Nyad, written by Julia Cox.  It's hard to tell if the clunkiness is in the writing or directing or producing (or all of the above), but it's there nonetheless.  If you've ever seen an underdog sports movie, you know the beats, you've heard the dialogue, and you've seen the cliches.  The directors, Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi and Jimmy Chin (another married couple!) are acclaimed documentary filmmakers (Oscar winners a few years ago for Free Solo), but this is their first narrative feature.  So maybe not surprisingly, they deftly handle the physical feats but not the human drama.  The good news is, the script and direction become more comfortable in the second half, and it's hard not to get the feels when the ending hits the right notes.  (But then again, the real-life protagonist, Diana Nyad, has been accused of making a lot of stuff up about her accomplishments.  So there's that.)

If I made the rules, Wes Anderson's short-film adaptation of The Rat Catcher would be eligible here, and I'd be clamoring for a nomination (thereby restoring my recently-revoked fan club membership).  For feature films, Ingloriously Snubbed goes to Anh Hung Tran for The Taste of Things.  At the screening I attended at the Chicago International Film Festival, the writer/director had a wonderful and brutal description of a script: he called it a "dead body", only becoming alive once it receives the language of cinema.  For his buoyant script, I respectfully disagree. 

#oscars #oscarpredictions #oscarpredictions2024 #oscarprognostication2024 #donovansoscarprognostication2024 #oscars2024 #academyawards #academyaward

[theharpermovieblog]

#HARPERSMOVIECOLLECTION

2023

www.tumblr.com/theharpermovieblog

I watched The Straight Story (1999)

A different type of film for director David Lynch.

The true story of an elderly man who drives a tractor over hundreds of miles to see his ailing brother.

David Lynch is so well known for his dreamlike and disturbing films that the term "Lynchian" was coined to describe his specific style, as well as to describe similar stylistic choices in other artistic works.

With The Straight Story, Lynch reminds us that, not only can he make a more grounded film, but also that he's more than capable of handling multi dimensional character and deeply relatable human experiences.

Lynch still adds his own technical style to this film, which works incredibly for a simple drama. His direction is slow and melodic and in pace with the story. And, the Angelo Badalamemti score adds to the level of calm and gentle filmmaking that's at play.

He's also backed up by a fantastic cast, which features Richard Farnsworth, Sissy Spaceck and Harry Dean Stanton all giving beautiful and heartfelt performances.

Look, if you know me or read my reviews, you know I'm a big David Lynch fan. Most people assume that liking Lynch movies is about liking weird shit. But, if you watch The Straight Story, you can see what Lynch offers beyond just the strange and unusual. He's a director who can easily evoke emotion. Whether it's the nightmarish fear of films like Inland Empire and Blue Velvet, or this film's meditations on the melancholy of aging and the beauty of still being human at the end of life.

This movie is well worth your time and made me tear up once or twice in a genuine way.

#the straight story #david lynch

[naughtygirl286]

So yes we did go and see Oppenheimer and that concluded both halves of "Barbenheimer" as for the movie well I would have to say that I did like it for the most part I felt it was every interesting. I thought the story behind it all was the interesting part about how they come up with the idea to create this bomb and the secret construction of it.

The movie is 3 hours but I didn't feel like it was 3 hours until we left we went to the 5pm showing and left a lil after 8pm lol but there is alot of back story and the movie is incredibly talky and I thought very sciencey and I find you have to pay attention at times its not an action movie its a historical drama, but like I said I felt it was interesting how they came up with the idea and figured out how to make the bomb.

One thing that kinda bothered me about the movie was the time jumping at spots where the majority of the movie takes place before the the dropping of the bomb on Japan but also it jumps to after that and after World War 2 where Oppenheimer is kinda telling the story at this hearing they are having that did kinda confuse me a bit at first

Also while watching the movie I thought Oppenheimer's wife was a total bitch I even told the person I was with that and they were all "well she was standing up for him" which is good she should be standing up for her Husband but at the same time I felt that she was treating him like total shit. It was like she hated her life, him and their kid. I was thinking no wonder he was cheating on her with the other woman when his wife was like that lol

Always with movies like this that are historical biopic type things I do wonder how much of this is actually true? like I'm sure there was extensive research done on this but you still wonder how much of it is 100% true and what was made up or exaggerated for the movie.

anyway I thought it was well acted and very well written and of course it was beautifully filmed and directed I'm sure it will be nominated for stuff like best actor/actress and maybe be some technical stuff like cinematography and score and all that

The best I can say if you want to see it then see it if your interested

#Oppenheimer #Oppenheimer movie #Oppenheimer movie 2023 #NaughtyGirl286 #ShannonJ286

[thejacksmit]

First Take: Gran Turismo - apparently video games CAN make dreams come true

SYNOPSIS: Based on the unbelievable, inspiring true story of a team of underdogs - a struggling, working-class gamer, a failed former race car driver, and an idealistic motorsport exec - who risk it all to take on the most elite sport in the world.

A script that's been in the works for a decade, multiple directors, a studio who have mixed form with the video game film... yes, Sony are pulling the trigger on a movie about 'the ultimate driving simulator' (although us Forza Motorsport loyalists have a thing or two to say about that). And knowing the source material, it's one of the rare times a film gets the 'feel' of a game it is adapting spot on.

Yes, Neill Blomkamp is an inventive choice to take on a project like this, but what he brings to this is the ability to use VFX to his advantage - which is smart considering how he does the racing sequences, using graphics from the game itself (GT7 for those who are in the know), but ultimately at 2 hours 14 minutes the pacing does feel off at times. It's written by Jason Hall and Zach Baylin, who again, do an admirable job translating the game and this story to film, but it pains me to say that it's just too good to be true at times. Behind the camera we have Jacques Jouffret shooting the action, and rounding it out is a score from Lorne Balfe and Andrew Kawczynski. Technically, this is a fine enough film.

On to the cast, and welcome to the big time Archie Madekwe. He absolutely nails it as Jann Mardenborough (which makes sense as the actual Jann co-produced the film and is his own stunt driver), and supporting him is David Harbour, Orlando Bloom, Djimon Hounsou, Maeve Courtier-Lilley and many others. However, one piece of casting feels slightly off, and that is Geri Halliwell (best known to Formula 1 fans as Red Bull boss Christian Horner's wife) and her role as Jann's mum. I can understand how and why they cast her, they need big names to sell a film like this, but with the quality of the rest of this cast it feels like a bit of a weak link.

THE VERDICT

It is far from a perfect film, but Gran Turismo does an admirable job at adapting the Mardenborough story with conviction - albeit with a few major artistic liberties here and there, creating a film that will use the current SAG/WGA situation to explain its success (or more likely lack thereof) once the box office numbers hit.

RATING: 3.5/5

#first takes

[cri8ive-scrapbook]

Of animation and inspiration

A little (pffff - sorry, folks, my text blog entries are *lengthy*) update on what's going on on the drawing board, and a great book recommendation!

Alright, so... lately I've been dabbing on an old passion that I had forfeit for many years; playing around with video editing software to create animated "lyrics videos" of songs I like. I am very much a Flash baby - I learned to use Flash in the early 2000s and was instantly won over by the great ease with which I could create little animated trailers with my still artworks, or nifty intros for my websites. But being also AuDHD, when Flash was discontinued, I felt too intimidated to try other video editing softwares where I'd have to re-teach myself everything, and gave up on animations altogether. It wasn't until about last year that I was drawn back to it, at first just for some short commercial videos I was commissioned by a client, and discovered an easy enough program like Filmora that allowed me to get decent effects in a simple interface.

The more I used it for work, the more I felt pulled to again create animation from my own art. I made some shy attempts, and the results were encouraging, but I also became aware of Filmora's limits so I'm now using a bundle of it plus Sony Vegas Pro for carrying out something that is as close as possible to what my mind sees. Being an amateur, self-taught and with great lacks in my artistic abilities, fulll frame-by-frame animatics are beyond my scope (possibly forever); but I can get a satisfying result through the interpolation of still pictures, some sfx, and music score to suggest moods and storylines.

When I work on my little "animated" projects, I always feel compelled to re-read Wendy Pini's Law & Chaos book. Because her approach to the Michael Moorcock's Stormbringer movie she wanted to make in her days as an animation student rings so true to my own experience. What I do in digital nowadays is essentially what she did with painstakingly and lovingly crafted traditional art back in the days; tell a story through the use of key scenes visualized in detail, with the artistic rendition (the inks, the perspective, the colors) in charge of the emotional response and a little additional help from technology and background music.

But there's more to this. Because Law & Chaos reasonates with me to a much deeper, personal level. The earlier pages where Wendy explains how her artwork had always been projected toward animation, how she had always wanted her characters to move, is something I could say from the depth of my own soul. Already as a kid I was more interested in the "movement" than in the finishing (which, I suspect, is why I was such a reluctant learner of techniques or more "technical" drawing); I used speech balloons to show the interaction between characters. I remember my mother would occasionally try to discourage me pointing out that comics distracted from the drawing; my poor mother, I think, associated art more with "traditonal" paintings. Occasionally, she would complain that "it'd be better to put up your drawings if it was just the art, without the speech balloons" and sometimes, to amuse her, I tried, but it seeemd to me that the pictures were then "muted", that the stories and dynamics I saw behind them couldn't be expressed because the characters couldn't "speak".

I was always conscious of my limits. I had seen documentaries on the cartoons I loved, and I knew that a lot of work went behind those smooth animations, and a snide part of me already as a kid knew I'd never be able to pull off anything like that. I was (and am) heavy handed; I delete and redraw so often that in the time of traditional art I'd always tear down the paper and that'd work me into a crying fit because then I had to redraw *everything else* and, on second try, the result was always, for some reason, below par with the first permanently ruined attempt. I wasn't patient. I wasn't nimble-handed. I longed to tell stories with my art - but animation seemed a world out of my reach. So I made "mini-comics" instead. I was content. "The small truth" (to quote the character Strongbow in Wendy Pini's independent comic series, the long-running ElfQuest), was enough for me.

Then... around the time I was 8 or 9, something unexpected happened. Computers arrived in Italy too, and quickly became popular, and next thing I knew not only we had them in school but a lot of my class mates had their own computers at home, and *then* suddenly I was reading up on computers, and *then* I suddenly had my own, and a new world of opportunities suddenly opened before me. When everyone and their cousin was hyped about playing videogames (Internet woudln't be a thing until some years later, and ADSL/WiFi until MUCH later down the line), I could only think of two things; a computer would allow me to have my fiction stories actually look like books and it would allow me to animate my drawings. Have them move, finally tell the stories they were imbued with - and without the need for speech ballons or any filters.

Such "wild" dreams from a learning-challenged kid of under-10, back in the late 1990s, can only sound hilarious in hindsight. Scrambling with Paint, creating "pictures" that I find repulsive today, I felt like I was doing something grandiose and one step closer to my dream of seeing my pictures come alive and tell their stories. I was soon to find out it wasn't so easy and computers didn't "magically" animate things - but, with all my limits, I no longer felt like I was a spectator watching on a world that would forever be out of my reach. I was a beginner, a rookie, on the amateur track still. But I had broken past he wall that separated me from that world of fancies. It would take time, it would take patience, but I was en route and now the journey could only go on. And on.

There were pitfallls, as there always are, and moments when I'd just grow so frustrated or have so many hassles to draw me away from that world completely. This, too, I found in Wendy's recollections in the Law & Chaos book. But there were also moments when my heart soared. When Internet became a thing, and I learned about animated GIFs, and the first thing I did was download a gif animator software and sketch a silly doodle of one of my wolves and animate it. It was crude, nonsensical, poorly executed, and if I think back about it today, I wince; but back then I felt like I was yet one step closer to the dream, and I cheered, and I was ridiculously proud of myself and of what I had done. Then came Flash. Another step closer to the dream. Short snippets, little more than "trailers" of RPs or spooky scenettes for Halloween - but it was *happening*. The first breath of life was infused to my still drawings. I'm writing this now before I delve back into the inks of my latest, current project; a full lyrics video, the second I've made since 2022, after two smaller projects (a series of flashes and a partecipation in a MAP video with other friends). If the first was just a test run to see "if I could do it", now I'm more demanding, with myself and with my tools. I'm using two video editors, not one, because I want the "theater of the mind" (thanks, Wendy!) to look exactly as I know it should. I'm trying to put as much work in every still image as I'll be able to. I have made a screenplay, with the exact sequence of each scene set to match certain moments of the music score. I have made a test-run with the rough sketches and am jotting down notes on what aspects will need to be fine-tuned (a more well-timed fade in/fade out effect, a better placed transition, etc). And I'm weeping with joy and going over this gem of a book again just as I'd told a long time friend "Remember all our talks on animation? Well I'm doing it now, I'm there, I succeeded!"

Because I've taken the final step, and now the dream - my dream - is becoming true.