#// well okay.. i AM cool. this is 2 much swagger 4 one guy 2 contain
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damagedcoda6669 · 5 months ago
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Hey uhhh... People make ai chat bots of you.... What's your thoughts on that?
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WHAT. IM SCARED. WHAT IF THEY MAKE ME A FUCKBOY
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omegatheunknown · 4 years ago
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AEW Double or Nothing 2021
In which the spirit of WCW is alive in confusing and delightful ways and we are left to parse whether overbooking and extracurriculars are offset by having actually very good wrestling happening at the same time.
- Lessons learned from Revolution on the production side? Maybe just cool it on pyro, though the rappelling adventure in the Stadium Stampede showed some of that now-characteristic 'trust us it'll look better on TV' flair. Hot crowd tends to paper over most woes, and the crowd was pretty hot. My one gripe is that the casino theme is hanging around like yesterday's takeout containers. Nothing wrong with clinging to a theme, I just think it's time for season 2. My suggestion? Under the Sea.
*Pre-Card Serena Deeb (C) v Riho for the NWA Women's Championship (***1/2) - Serena Deeb's star has finally risen. She's a remarkably consistent technician and she can get a match out of anyone at this point. She's working at the level of Mercedes Martinez or Madison Eagles at this point, it's amazing that she was overlooked or considered fit only to be a coach for so long. With the NWA belt she has this new swagger, she's basically everything Tessa Blanchard might bring to the table with none of the downsides (Serena has a lot of friends and seems like a lovely person, even!) - Riho's back and here to stay. Her time in Stardom didn't do much for my evaluation of her, which is that there are many better wrestlers that would be better representatives of the joshi style and she's merely pretty good. - The match was very good. Serena showcased a champion's aggression against a sympathetic Riho, they really work well against each other, Deeb's technical prowess against Riho's flexibility led to a very dynamic finish.
*Main Card Hangman Adam Page v Brian Cage (***1/2) - Here the shenanigans start. Brian Cage is on Team Taz, Team Taz has nothing else much to do tonight, so why wouldn't Team Taz flex their muscles, bait us with HOOK, etc? (Because it would be nice to have some variety in the card in terms of a match where one competitor stands across from another competitor?) - Hangman is (checking notes) yeah, still over as fuck, as befits the Anxious Millennial Cowboy. Cage terrifies me, he's a child's drawing of a body builder. He do be very agile for a man of his immense musculature tho. They match up well, Page is biggish for a flyer, Cage loves to play catch. Nothing much to write home about, other than Hangman's beautiful moonsault to the floor and what was overall a very good curtain jerker. - Okay fine, I am curious about Cage's reluctance to lean on the goons, Starks can't come back soon enough.
The Young Bucks v Jon Moxley & Eddie Kingston (***) - I will not be referring to Mox & Eddie as (The) Wild Things because it gives me 'he calls it the wacky line' flashbacks for some reason. - The Bucks have to cheat and abuse Rick Knox's attention span constantly to be on even footing with Mox & Eddie, which is a clever sort of thing that gets washed out by the appearance of LG and Karl Anderson, which again, is cool in a vacuum but was the story of the evening. - Pace was weird - repetitive in eliminating Eddie, then Mox fights back, failed hope spot, Bucks team up, Eddie saves x2/3 in a row. - Mox, unlike Cody (in so many ways,) will probably actually be taking some time off with Renee, which is the kind of thing I would prefer not to know in terms of booking, but they really uh, put him down on the canvas here, and it felt pretty finale-esque.
Casino Battle Royale (n/r, but on the balance pro) - Any changes to the theme of the PPV would likely include changing up the nonsense suit format of these largely joyless slogs. - Obviously anticipating a NJPW talent, or... I dunno, actually -- Lio Rush was a surprise. Got in a quick demonstration of his otherworldly quickness, and you know what, there's probably a fun place for him in AEW. He'll need some friends, of course, feel like Team Taz might fit his temperament. I wonder if he was aware of the Mark Henry news... - Christian does not need to win this kind of match to get a title shot, obviously, but that said it was super lovely to use him to give Jungle Boy the shine. Jungle Boy would be a license to print money if he was even as big as Hangman. - Could register some continued griping about how Penta is not getting his due in AEW but he also literally was dressed as the Joker so I'm low on sympathy on this one particular night.
Anthony Ogogo v Cody Rhodes (*) - I did not like this. It's hard for me to read jingoism as a face move to begin with, and Cody's was egregiously tone deaf and kinda silly yet delivered without a trace of irony because Cody doesn't do irony on purpose, ridiculous neck tattoo aside. - Great argument to be made that Ogogo just isn't experienced enough to be winning matches against Cody. But like, what are we doing here? Cody needs to take some time off, maybe. I thought that's what was happening when he had his mini feud with Penta that really just ended in quick decisive Cody win. I though maybe Cody was being turned when QT and The Factory snapped-- sure, they're a group of impotent player 2s, but Cody is an out of touch elitist with a callous and manipulative streak. Alas, also no. America #1. - Cody is approximately 8 times as tough as Billy Gunn based on his weathering of the one punch man. Match ran a bit long given how little there was to go on. Cody gigged? Quelle surprise. - Cody had the best match on the card like, 3 out of the first 4 AEW events or something, and that was all booking and storytelling. I do hope Cody follows Moxley's lead into a little sabbatical.
Miro (C) v Lance Archer for the TNT Championship (**1/2) - Card's hossiest hoss match, a quick burst reminiscent of a car wreck. Absolutely hit on what it should've hit on but a little slow moving considering it went all of 10 minutes. - I will not complain about Jake the Snake, who I love. And also the gimmick spot, with Miro very astutely yeeting what was definitely a snake in a bag (surely.) back down the tunnel.
Dr Britt Baker, DMD v Hikaru Shida (C) for the AEW Women's Championship (***) - Picked up a lot of steam toward the end but seemed a little toothless (heh) until the last five. - Shida 'deserved' some more time as champion in front of crowds but also it's time to let heel Britt reach her peak, I can't even imagine how obnoxious she can be as the champ, it's going to be great.
Sting & Darby Allin v Ethan Page & Scorpio Sky (***1/2) - Such is the power of STING that I feel like I might be underrating this match... I mean it was an okay match about very simply getting some revenge and the sixty year old man did a very subdued Code Red and a slightly less subdued dive. He's also Sting. They missed an opportunity in calling it the 'Scorpio' Death Drop, but the main takeaway here is you see something like this where it's The Icon and you start to understand why WWE trots out their legends to come out of incredibly still kick ass without bending their knees. - The difference, I guess, is that Sting is absolutely being used to build up Darby Allin, whereas it's not like the fed brought back Goldberg and his attendant aura to pump up... anyone but Goldberg?
Kenny Omega (C) v PAC v Orange Cassidy for the AEW World Championship (****) - Off the top I have to say I'm very sad that the rest of the Galaxy's Greatest Friends were seen only very briefly, nice of them to bring OC's backpack. - Also have to point out that PAC's promo featured one of my favourite jokes, that Kenny must be short for Kenneth as a sort of legal/birth name belonging to a professional wrestler. (See also: Samoa Joseph) - And Mr Cassidy certainly did try in this match, ragdoll sells and all. Kenneth and PAC are absurd talents who bring aerial, power and technical maneuvers in equal measure and OC is not doing any of those on the same level, but he picked his spots, showed his genre savvy and hung in there to the point that he wasn't just the fall guy. - The extracurriculars continue in a match that was already a little overboard for silliness due to asymmetry... I think if you're the Invisible Hand it would've made sense to save up all your tricks for this match, but who am I to question the golden goose? - Sure, Kenny and Don ran the classic heel manager interference spot and taking out the ref in desperation spot but having to take out the ref because PAC wouldn't break the hold is fun, as is the stupid/inspired sense in running the 'smash opponent with the belt' spot four times so as none of your heavy gold prizes feel left out. (I love that AAA Mega Championship, they weren't on TV so we get to see it?) - "Fuck You, Don," indeed.
The Inner Circle v The Pinnacle in 'Stadium Stampede II' (***1/2) - This one had to grow on me for two reasons, first that it's usually pretty unforgivable to co-opt the main event spot from the championship match, and second to law of diminishing returns on dumb gimmick matches. - But grow it did. There's a full on meat locker? Commentary will refer to a cardboard cut-out of Shahid Khan as Tony Khan's father (that's canon now,) and Jericho will lovingly pat it? Konnan happened to be the DJ at whatever night club there is a Jaguar Stadium? Spears surrounds himself dramatically with chairs and his hoisted by his own petard? - Ultimately it comes down to letting Sammy shine. His involvement with the Inner Circle has sometimes come at the cost of being able to showcase that prior to AEW he was an ascendant talent in PWG, on his way to Ricochet level feats of acrobatic excess. Still feel like Sammy could've/should've been the one tossed off the cage a few weeks ago, but even better is being the guy getting the pin in the ring.
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unfolded73 · 7 years ago
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This Graceful Path (14/19)
Summary: Emma has just moved in with Mary Margaret and started working as a deputy in the Storybrooke sheriff’s department when she meets Killian Jones, the town’s introverted harbormaster. When a prominent Storybrooke resident is found murdered, Emma tries to juggle solving the case with new friendships, parenthood, and romance. A Season 1 Cursed!Killian AU.
Rating: Explicit per CSBB guidelines (violence, sex); more of an M on unfolded73’s scale. The sex, when we get there, is not extremely graphic in nature. Same with the violence.
Content Warning: This fic contains two major character deaths, one canon and one not. (You’re already past them.)
Total word count: ~ 75,000
Acknowledgements: Thank you to @j-philly-b for betaing this monstrosity. Thank you to @caprelloidea  for all of the read-throughs and cheerleading; not sure I could have written it without your excitement early on. Thank you to @teruel-a-witch for the original prompt on tumblr which sparked this fic. Thank you to @pompeiiablaze for the wonderful art which accompanies Chapter 3 and 9 and one later chapter. Thanks to the CSBB mods ( @sambethe in particular, who had to look at my check-ins) for your support and for enduring my neuroses.
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 – AO3 Link
Chapter 14
Emma took a bite of her English muffin, glancing over at Henry where he sat across from her at Mary Margaret’s table, glaring at the plate of food in front of him. “You need to eat some breakfast, kid.”
He shrugged, somehow looking younger and older than his ten years all at once. “I’m not hungry.”
With a sigh, Emma pulled her chair around to sit closer to him. “Can you at least tell me what’s wrong?”
His eyes were full of guilt. “I guess I thought, with the curse broken, things would be… different.”
“Different how?”
“I mean, for one thing, I thought we would all end up in the Enchanted Forest somehow. I thought there would be a castle, and knights in armor, and… and jousts and stuff. Instead, it’s…” He gestured around them. “It’s this same world, except you’re unhappy, and you and your parents are being all weird with each other, and my other mom is locked up in jail.”
“I’m not unhappy,” Emma lied. “And as far as Regina goes, she hurt people, Henry. You yourself said—”
“I know what I said. But… I mean, she wasn’t all bad, as a mom. On Saturdays, sometimes she would take me to the comic book store. And when I got sick, she would bring me chicken soup and let me watch as much TV as I wanted.”
“That does sound pretty good,” Emma agreed, feeling a stab of jealousy in her gut. The adult in her knew that invalidating Henry’s positive memories of his adoptive mother would be the wrong thing to do, but it didn’t stop a dark, selfish part of her from wanting to do just that.
There was a tentative tap on the apartment door, and Emma was saved from thinking of what else she should say. With a pat on Henry’s shoulder, she got up to answer it.
“Killian.” Emma’s heart began to hammer at the sight of him standing on her threshold.
“I’m sorry to bother you so early, Emma, but something has come to my attention that I thought you needed to be aware of right away. May I come in?” He was all politeness and formality, like they barely knew each other, and it made her chest ache.
“Sure.” She stood out of the way, letting him into the apartment. Working to school her expression to a neutral one, Emma crossed her arms protectively over her chest. “What is it?”
“Cool,” Henry intoned, his eye catching on Killian’s hook. “I knew you were Captain Hook. Did mom tell you that I knew?”
Killian smiled a small, tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “She did.”
“Did you have a pirate ship? What was it like?”
“I’m sure Killian…” She paused. “Is that even your real name? What am I supposed to call you?”
“Killian Jones is my actual given name, as it happens,” he said.
“I’m sure Killian doesn’t have time to talk about that right now,” Emma said firmly to Henry. “What did you come to tell me about?”
“It’s more something I need to show you, involving that man August Booth. You know him?”
Emma frowned, remembering her last encounter with August at the police station. “Yeah, he told me…” She winced. “He told me he was Pinocchio, and I dismissed it. Why, what about him?”
He gestured to the door. “You’ll need to come and see for yourself.”
~*~
The door to the rented room at Granny’s was open when they arrived. An older man — Marco, Emma remembered his name was — sat at the bedside, at first blocking Emma’s view of the person in the bed. When she came far enough into the room to see August, she froze.
“What the hell?”
“He’s turned entirely to wood,” a woman explained. Emma looked up at her in confusion. “I’m sorry, I’m the Mother Superior from the convent, Emma. I don’t think we’ve ever been formally introduced.”
Emma stuck her hand out to shake automatically, her eyes darting back down to the wooden man in the bed. Killian and Henry continued to hover in the doorway. “And who are you really?” she asked the nun.
The Mother Superior smiled. “I’m the Blue Fairy. You can call me Blue. And this is Geppetto,” she said of the man silently weeping over the bed’s occupant.
“Of course it is,” Emma muttered under her breath.
“Emma,” he said, looking up at her with tear-filled eyes. It feels as if you were a baby just yesterday.”
“Yeah, okay,” she said, feeling sorry for her abruptness, but unable to stop herself. “So what happened here? I mean, besides the obvious.”
There was a commotion at the door, and then Mary Margaret and David crowded into the small room. “Thanks for calling us, Blue,” David said.
“The magic that was keeping him a man was part of the curse, in a sense,” Blue explained. “The curse kept us all unchanging. We didn’t age. We didn’t experience the passage of time in the same way that the outside world did. While Emma and Pinocchio grew up outside of the curse, the rest of us were frozen. But it also held back the magic that would have returned Pinocchio to what he was. As soon as Emma started to weaken the curse, the connection that Pinocchio had to the curse also weakened. He started to turn back into wood.”
“So now that the curse is broken, he’s stuck like this?” Emma asked.
“Yes, as long as there is no magic in this realm, there is no way to return him to a human,” Blue said.
Marco continued to weep, his shoulders shaking as he clutched August’s wooden hand in his own aged ones. “Please, Emma. You’re the Savior; surely you can help him.”
“I’m sorry, Marco,” Emma said, glancing over at Killian. “It doesn’t sound like there’s anything we can do.”
Killian stepped forward. “There might be a way,” he said. Everyone looked at him curiously, Blue with no small amount of distrust. He cleared his throat. “I find it impossible to believe that Regina cast this dark curse without some kind of loophole for magic,” he said. “And as a pirate with a nose for sniffing out treasure, I think I have an inkling as to where it may be hidden.”
“Her vault?” Emma guessed. “Graham thought she might be keeping his heart there… and it is just now occurring to me that he may have been right about that. Holy shit,” she muttered, and then looked guiltily at the nun in the room. “Sorry, Mother Superior. It’s like a shock that keeps on happening.”
“Her vault is one possibility,” Killian conceded, looking annoyed. “But there’s also a secret basement underneath the library. I would wager there’s something important there.”
“How do you know?” Emma asked.
“Pirate,” he answered enigmatically. “I can show you how to get down there, Savior. Worry not.”
“There’s no need for her to go alone,” David said. “I can go with her.”
“David, it’s fine, I’m sure you guys are busy with your… kingdom or whatever.” Emma fidgeted, shifting from foot to foot.
“I’m coming with you,” he said with finality, glaring at Killian. It wasn’t the first time that it occurred to Emma that she and her parents knew way too much about each other’s sex lives, now that the curse was broken.
“Fine,” Killian said, “but we should stop by the pawn shop for something first.” Without waiting to see if they were following, he swaggered out of the room and down the hall.
“So,” David said quietly to Emma as they followed at a distance. “Are the two of you still…” He waggled his finger back and forth.
“Oh, didn’t I tell you? Captain Hook dumped me.”
The mixture of relief and indignation on his face almost made her laugh. “He did what?”
“Well, not dumped me, exactly. But we’re on a break while we figure some stuff out.”
“If a father’s opinion means anything, I don’t approve of you dating a pirate,” David said. “On the other hand, Killian was a good friend to me while we were cursed.”
“While you were cursed, exactly. I don’t really know any of you now,” Emma said.
David stopped walking down the sidewalk in front of Granny’s and grabbed Emma’s arm. “You do, Emma. Our cursed personalities weren’t that different from the real us, especially after you came to town and the curse started to weaken. Snow and I still loved each other. And we still wanted to take care of you, to keep you safe.” He sighed heavily. “As much as I hate to admit it, if Killian cared for you while he was cursed, then that was real. And he probably still cares for you now.”
“Are you two coming or what?” Killian called from across the street. Without responding to her father, Emma followed.
“What happened here?” Emma asked when she saw the broken window pane in the door of Gold’s pawn shop.
“I happened,” Killian said, opening the door. Emma stared at him, unsure whether to be more annoyed that he had broken in or that he was admitting it so baldly to the sheriff as if he just assumed she wouldn’t do anything about it. “What?” he asked off of her expression. “I had to get my hook. It was my property, and Gold stole it. And while I was here, I noticed it wasn’t the only thing he stole.”
He pulled a large case out from under one of the counters, pushing it at David. “Is that not your family crest?” Killian asked, tapping the embossing on the case with his hook.
David nodded, reaching out to open the clasps. His eyes lit up at its contents. “My sword,” he said, lifting it out.
It felt like yet another shock to her system, seeing David armed with a sword. Another realization that all of this fairy tale stuff was really happening.
“Great, so what do we do now?” she said.
“Maybe we find you a weapon too, while we’re at it,” Killian suggested.
Emma shifted aside her jacket, revealing her shoulder holster. “I’m good, thanks. I don’t know the first thing about wielding a sword. And why do we need to be armed, anyway? What exactly are you expecting to be down there?”
Shrugging, Killian made his way back toward the front of the shop. “Who knows that the Evil Queen was capable of bringing to this land?”
~*~
“Henry suspected there was something important about this place,” Emma said as they made their way into the darkened building that the clock tower loomed over.
“Indeed,” Killian said. Slotting his hook behind a wood-paneled wall, Emma heard something click and the entire wall receded up into the ceiling, revealing doors covered by a monstrous mechanism of chains and gears. Killian flipped a switch and the gears began to slowly turn until they reached a specified position, at which point the doors opened with a metallic scraping sound that rattled Emma’s teeth. Behind the doors was an old-fashioned cage elevator.
“It’s manually operated,” Killian said. “The two of you get in, and I’ll lower you down.”
Emma nodded. “Okay.” She and David stepped onto the shaky metal platform, and David reached up to pull down the gate that would close them in the cage.
“Lower the gate when you’re ready for me to bring you up,” Killian said. “Good luck,” he added as he worked the crank that initiated their descent. Soon, he was out of sight entirely, and the temperature became noticeably cooler.
Emma glanced at David. “Is this a normal thing for you? Picking up a sword and charging into who knows what?”
“More normal than I would like, no thanks to Regina.”
“So why does she hate Mary— Snow White so much? Is it that whole ‘fairest of them all’ drama?”
David raised an eyebrow at Emma. “You haven’t read Henry’s book very carefully, have you?”
“I might have skimmed some chapters. I didn’t know it would be on the test,” she groused.
“When Snow was a child, she told Regina’s mother that Regina was in love with the stable boy, and didn’t want to marry Snow’s father. It was innocently done, but the result was that Regina was forced to marry Snow’s father, and the man she loved was killed. Regina never forgave Snow for that.”
“Okay, that sucks for Regina, but Snow White was just a kid. Seems like it was really Regina’s mother who was to blame.”
The elevator came to an abrupt stop at the bottom of the shaft, nearly knocking both of them off of their feet. “I agree, but there wasn’t any reasoning with the Evil Queen,” David said, lifting the gate of the elevator.
Emma had to admit to herself that when she had been picturing a basement, she was thinking maybe a concrete floor, exposed pipes, some utility closets. What she instead found herself in was an underground cave. Somewhere, a slow drip of water echoed off the rocky walls.
“Okay, so what exactly are we looking for? A chest labeled ‘Regina’s Magic: Keep Out’?”
A low rumble, so low that Emma felt it in her chest more than she heard it, came from behind them. Emma turned and noticed movement. For a second, she thought that the rock wall was crumbling, but a source of golden light revealed itself as what she thought was the rock continued to move. And then she realized it wasn’t rock at all; it was a creature. Wings unfurled, and the low, rumbling roar sounded again, much louder.
“Is that a fucking dragon?” she asked David.
“Yeah.” He pulled his sword from the scabbard. “That’s exactly what that is.”
The dragon took to the air, coming right at them. Emma pulled out her gun, aimed, and fired several times at the creature. It seemed to have no effect on its speed or trajectory, only making it screech, the sound echoing off the cavern walls and almost causing Emma to drop her gun. It swooped low over them as it passed. David took a swing with his sword but missed.
“I’ve fought this dragon before,” he said as the dragon reached the other side of the cave and wheeled around.
“You have?”
“Yeah. I know what we’re here for. There’s a potion inside the dragon.” His battle stance, knees bent and sword raised, made him look every inch the prince from a storybook.
“How do you know that?”
“Because I put it there.”
The dragon made for them again. Emma fired her remaining round into its chest. David started to swing his sword, but it was too late; the dragon’s wing caught him in the chest, flinging him several feet away to collide with one of the rocky walls of the cavern.
“Dad!” Emma screamed. He was silent, knocked unconscious by the blow. The dragon turned around, preparing to make another pass.
“Screw this.” Emma dropped her gun and picked up her father’s sword from where it had fallen near her feet.
The dragon began to come at her again, wings flapping and stirring up dust and gravel from the cavern floor. Emma held the heavy sword in two hands, clutching the pommel with all of her strength.  She wasn’t even sure if she could swing it effectively, it was so heavy, but maybe she could at least stab with it. Waiting for her moment, she noticed a glowing spot in the dragon’s throat. The dragon got closer, and Emma stared at that spot. She didn’t see anything else. Not the dangerous wings or talons. Not the head, full of sharp teeth. Not the fearsome eyes. Just that spot.
She thrust upward with all of her might, feeling the sword make contact and her shoulders nearly wrenched out of the sockets with the force of it. There was an otherworldly scream, and then a rain of ash and dust that forced her to drop the sword and cover her face with her arms. The scream seemed to echo forever, filling her ears and her brain and her everything with horror. Then there was silence.
Emma gradually unfolded herself, opening her eyes. There was ash everywhere, and the dragon was gone.
Lying at her feet was a gilded, egg-shaped container. Numbly, Emma picked it up.
~*~
The elevator rose, and Emma knelt at her father’s side. “Come on, David. Dad, whatever. Wake up.” She had used up much of the rest of her strength dragging him into the elevator cage, and now she held his head on her knees, the metal grate pressing uncomfortably against her shins.
Abruptly, the elevator cage stopped, rattling her teeth. Emma looked up, the door into the library still a good fifteen feet away.
“Killian?” she called.
“The mechanism’s stuck.” He peered over the lip of the opening, his hair disheveled and hanging down over his forehead. “Did you get it?”
“We got it, but David’s hurt.” Placing his head down gently on the floor, she climbed the wall and opened a hatch in the ceiling of the cage. “I can climb up,” she said.
“Throw me the potion, and I’ll get it to the Blue Fairy,” he said. “Stay with David, and I’ll phone the paramedics to come get him out.”
Emma eyed him. That did seem like a more sensible plan than leaving an unconscious man alone in an elevator suspended above a mysterious cave. “Okay,” she said, going back for the egg. She climbed up again, and then tossed the egg underhanded up to Killian. He caught it between his hand and hook.
“Thanks.” He winked at her. “See you later, princess.”
~*~
“Mr. Jones.” Tom Clark stood up nervously from the desk at the sheriff’s station where he had been sitting, and then sneezed violently. “Can I help you?”
“No,” Killian said, throwing a punch and enjoying the satisfying sound of his fist connecting with the dwarf’s face, enjoying the way he crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
“Do you have it?” Regina asked, her voice edged with impatience.
“The Savior and her father fought well,” he said, lifting the keys off of Sneezy’s belt with his hook and tossing them over to his hand. “The mission was a success, and furthermore, they should be out of our way long enough to get this business concluded.” He unlocked the cell, holding the door open and bowing obsequiously as she stepped out.
“Where is it?”
Killian pulled the small potion bottle, glowing with its own internal pink light, out of his pocket and held it up in front of Regina’s face. “Any idea what it is?” he asked Regina.
Regina made a grab for it, making Killian jerk it back, the neck of the bottle clutched securely between his thumb and forefinger.
She glared at him. “I’m going to need that if you want me to cast this spell.”
“And you’ll have it,” Killian responded, “as soon as I know you won’t find a way to double-cross me first. For now, you can look, but you can’t touch.” He overemphasized each syllable of that last statement, swaying into Regina’s personal space with a leer.
Regina rolled her eyes, but she did lean close to examine the potion more carefully. “Well, I’ll be damned. How did Rumpelstiltskin get his hands on something like this?”
“Why? What is it?”
“It’s the essence of true love. One of the most powerful spell ingredients there is.”
Killian put the bottle back in his pocket. ��I wouldn’t know. Can you work with it?”
Regina’s eyes gleamed with promise. “Oh, I certainly can. With the other ingredients I have hidden in my vault, we can bring magic to this town permanently. I’d like to see them try to lock me in jail then.”
Killian huffed, heading for the back door. “Let’s get a move on, then, and save the villain monologuing for after the spell is finished.”
~*~
After twenty minutes passed and no paramedics, Emma realized that something was very wrong.
David was breathing steadily but he was still unconscious, which worried her.  
She pulled out her phone, but they appeared to be just deep enough underground that she was getting no signal. “Shit. Sorry, Dad,” she muttered, “I’ve gotta leave you down here alone for a minute.”
Climbing the wall of the elevator for the third time, her fingers aching from the bite of the sharp metal grate, Emma got her feet underneath her and stood up on the roof of the cage. Reaching up, she was able to get her fingertips over the lip of the opening. Fortunately for her, pull-ups had always been one of her specialties. Her arm muscles flexing, she pulled herself up and over the edge of the library floor, her body half in the library and half hanging over the elevator shaft. She crawled out, gasping for breath.
As soon as she’d used her phone to summon paramedics for David, she called Mary Margaret.
“Emma! Are you and David okay? What happened?”
Frowning, Emma stood up. “Are you not still with August?”
“Yes, I am. I thought Marco might need—”
“So didn’t Killian bring the golden egg thing?”
Mary Margaret’s voice shifted, becoming harder. “No, I haven’t seen him.”
“What the hell, it’s been half an hour. I gave it to him half an hour ago to bring to Mother Superior… Blue… whatever. Where is he?”
“Why didn’t you bring it yourself?”
Emma looked guiltily down at her unconscious father. “I had to stay here with David. He’s fine; at least, I think he’s fine, but he got knocked out.”
“I’m on my way,” her mother said, the call ending abruptly.
Emma looked at the crank that raised the elevator. Her senses humming with dread, she reached out and took hold of the handle, experimentally turning the crank.
The elevator rose easily, and Emma’s heart sank.
Chapter 15
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samanthasroberts · 6 years ago
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5 Common Things Hollywood Does That Instantly Kills A Story
Usually, the factors that pull you out of your focus on a movie or TV show are external. Someone forgets to silence their cellphone, or your mom asks you a question about the plot, or your date from OKCupid decides that a matinee showing of Dunkirk is the perfect time to start getting handsy. That kind of thing. But sometimes it isn’t the fault of the unforgiving world around you. Sometimes movies and shows do the job themselves and awkwardly tear you from your haze, placing you in the uncomfortable territory of “Oh damn. I am watching something, and am terrifyingly aware of that.” How do movies stealthily slit the throat of their own escapism? Well, they do things like …
5
Pausing For The Cameo Of A Big Star
Despite the fact that modern TV is full of quality entertainment that would make movies break out in frustrated, jealous tears, it still operates on the archaic system of “Movies are where important things go, and TV is where you watch inconsequential drivel that serves as a placeholder for actual enjoyment.” Don’t believe me? Look at how shows treat guest stars who are mostly known from movies or other mediums. They are in awe of them. The camera lingers on them, telling you that while the regular cast is nice and all, you should now place your undivided attention on the god king who has just entered the room.
I’m always down for a good lingering camera if the context is right. Jeff Goldblum is returning for Jurassic World 2, and I will be deeply disappointed if his introduction shot stays at Beautiful Jeff Goldblum Face Level for anything less than 20 uninterrupted minutes. The same goes for when a character has seemingly died but then comes back triumphantly. When Lex Luthor showed up in the last episode of Smallville to remind viewers that Superman’s future would not lack bald megalomaniacs, the camera seems to be more thrilled about this than anyone. And it probably was, honestly. Being a living, breathing Smallville fan was not, how should I put this, a “fulfilling” experience.
But the pause that might as well double as a “Clap Now” sign reeks of desperation, and rips away any chance to view what you’re watching as smooth, organic fiction. I don’t demand absolute reality from things. There is NO ONE in the world worse than someone who can’t put their malfunction behind them for two fucking seconds and just HAS TO remind you that no, Batman couldn’t do that in real life. Those people are fun traitors. But when the camera stops to gaze at the bigger star who is encroaching on the lives of the peons who normally inhabit the show, it’s not just stopping the flow of the episode dead; it’s reminding you that Hollywood has a definite hierarchy. A being of shining light and multiple movie deals has deemed this cast of characters worth their time, and we should feel blessed on their behalf.
Even worse is that usually, these guest stars are pretty damn talented. When Steve Carell left The Office, the employees spent a few episodes trying to find a replacement for him. This led to a parade of guest stars like Will Ferrell, Will Arnett, and Jim Carrey, and you’d think that comedy powerhouses like these, when supplied with jokes on one of the best-written sitcoms of the 2000s, would provide an avalanche of humor. Homes destroyed and families torn apart from the sheer magnitude of the fucking comedy. But no, they just kind of shuffled through the show as the camera jammed itself into their pores, as if to scream “ISN’T IT COOL THAT WE GOT WILL GODDAMN ARNETT TO BE ON THE OFFICE? ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR WILL ARNETT FOR LOWERING HIMSELF ENOUGH TO BE HERE.”
4
The Biggest Name Is Usually The Killer
Dramatic shows that have any number of “good guys” require guest stars to keep going. Unless the creators of Law & Order want every plot to be “Ice T was the killer all along, but we forgave him, because aww, just look at him,” they need new talent to fill out the ranks of serial killers, pedophiles, and bartenders who just might have seen someone who looks like that. But this necessity has created a painfully obvious trend: Whenever a big name shows up in a series, they’re going to be doing big-name stuff. And apparently, big-name stuff always involves ruining the surprise.
I’ve talked about Dexter in a few columns because, really, I’m still coming to terms with it. You devote eight years of your life to a show, and then it ends with the plot equivalent of a drunk pissing on your head from a third-story balcony. So you begin to think really hard about whether it was ever that good. And I’ve come to this conclusion: Yeah, it had some really great parts, but man, it had the worst “I wonder what THIS guest star will do?” poker face in the industry.
The first two seasons of Dexter tell a perfectly contained story. And then in Season 3, Jimmy Smits swaggers in with a kind of “I’d like to get a beer with that guy” charisma that only Jimmy Smits really has. But then Jimmy Smits turns into EVIL Jimmy Smits, and Dexter has to kill him. Then John Lithgow shows up in Season 4, and while he’s great, the pattern is being established. By the time Colin Hanks burst into Season 6 with a plotline so terrible that it served as a Dexter Is Not Going To Get Good Again trumpet of the cancellation apocalypse, the standard had been set: If a new dude shows up on Dexter, that dude is almost 100 percent going to end up as Dexter’s table dressing.
Obviously, if an established actor shows up on a prestige TV drama, they’re going to be given a role with some meat to it. When William Hurt or whoever inevitably shows up on the fifth season of Westworld, they’re not going to be given the role of Blowjob Robot Bartender #4. They’re going to get Maniacal Douche Who Was Super Integral To The Creation Of Westworld Who We Never Really Discussed Before. And them basically spelling out what’s going to happen in the rest of the season or episode doesn’t stop them from giving a knockout performance. It just momentarily stops us from getting lost in the show.
It’s also admitting that we’ve kind of pigeonholed what we think makes for good, guest-star-worthy roles. Someone with any kind of positive qualities? Pssssh. Demented Man Child That Makes Tiny Doll Furniture Out Of His Victim’s Toenails? You can basically smell the Emmys on that one.
3
Being Waaaaay Too Self-Aware
Having a sense of self-awareness can be helpful. It’s what prevents you from deciding that your show about six friends who live in New York City is a fresh idea, and it gives you a moment of hesitation when you think “A guy named Harry meets a girl named Sally. HOW HAS NO ONE COME UP WITH THAT?!?”
Even adding a little self-awareness to your story isn’t so bad if you do it in nice doses. The reason The Cabin In The Woods works so well is that it comments on horror film tropes, but doesn’t rely on that to be effective. Compare that to something like Scream 4, where hoping that you get the reference is all that that movie has going for it. The first two Scream films are neat little venture into the nature of horror movies and their sequels, but by the time Scream 4 rolled around, the series had looped back through its own butthole and out of its mouth again in order to prove that it was still relevant. And it wouldn’t have had to do that if it had done the basic job of a movie, instead of relying on blistering self-awareness.
Community at its best was a show with so, so much heart. The love that the writers had for the characters bleeds through, and it’s a passion project carefully disguised as a typical prime-time sitcom. And in its early seasons, the series pulled off self-awareness pretty effortlessly. And maybe it’s due to the fact that Community began to lose core cast members starting in the fifth season, and the last half of the show was plagued with a shuffling creative team, but the self-awareness which had initially set it apart from regular shows became a crutch. The emotional stakes were lost, and in their place were constant comments about the nature of TV, which is like hearing your cheeseburger explain its own ingredients while you try to eat it.
Even vague self-awareness can be jarring if it comes out of nowhere. Kingsman: The Secret Service is a fantastic movie when it’s not talking about the spy movies that it’s borderline-parodying. If that scene in which Colin Firth was taking out the church full of bigots was still going to this day, I’d be okay with it. And don’t act like there isn’t a version of “Freebird” that is three years long. I know there is.
But slapped in the middle of the movie is a conversation between Firth and Samuel L. Jackson about the nature of spy flicks, as if they’re assuming that the audiences that have not yet seen the movie are already a little “out of the know” about what it’s trying to do. Come on, movie. Give us some credit.
2
Music That Defies The Laws Of The Universe
Movie soundtracks can do two very different things. They can heighten an experience, pulling you into the film in the way that a music-less scene could never do. They get your blood pumping without you even knowing, and pretty soon you’re first-pumping by yourself in the theater and screaming that you’ll be forever young at the top of your lungs. Hey, you’re doing it too, not necessarily just me. But a soundtrack can also drop you on your head, revealing that the movie that you’re watching is just a big marketing ploy by people who have figured that since you like Iron Man AND Ed Sheeran, putting both in the same movie at the same time will result in a dump truck full of dollar bills and hookers showing up to their houses.
How does it drop you from your cradle? Well, for one, it can bend the laws of time and space, forcing you to question why anyone would make a movie this way. Take the movie Hitch, for example, wherein Will Smith teaches dudes to talk to women, and teaches YOU to be more careful about picking out which Will Smith movies you go see. He teaches Kevin James how to dance in one scene, but starts his lesson by shutting off the music that’s playing at a party in the future? Future humans were dancing to that song, Will. Don’t cut a hole in the continuum of time when a motherfucker is trying to get down.
Will then puts on the song “Yeah!”, which you might remember from it being more popular than oxygen in the mid 2000s. And then Kevin James dances to “Yeah!” both at Will’s house and at this future party. My problem doesn’t lie with the song “Yeah!” showing up at two different places at two different times, because, again, I’ve heard “Yeah!” more than I’ve heard the Pledge of Allegiance, the National Anthem, and “I love you” combined. It’s just that this scene is edited in a way that makes you realize A) Hitch is a wizard, and B) this movie is a shallow attempt at getting us to like the song “Yeah!” more.
And sometimes a movie will feature a song that’s performed by an actor in that movie. Like how Texas Chainsaw 3D plays the song “2 Reasons,” and one of the characters listening to it and enjoying it is Trey Songz, the guy who sang “2 Reasons.” That’s not a slight wink and a nudge, filmmakers. That’s a big invisible hand coming out of the screen to jar you out of whatever good things you might be feeling and reminding you to go download “2 Reasons,” because the actor who fucking made “2 Reasons” in real life seems to really be enjoying “2 Reasons” in this completely fake life. If you want to give the audience a cue to simultaneously begin ignoring the movie and start playing around on their phones for a little bit, this one is as good as any.
1
“Event” Episodes Where No One Is Happy To Be There
Earlier, I mentioned guest actors, and spoke pretty harshly of them. My apologies, guest actors. To make it up to you, the rest of this column will be written by John Stamos, and he will be playing the role of me. I make these amends because guest actors aren’t the worst things to take you out of TV shows. That honor goes to “event” episodes in which non-actors are given roles, and we’re supposed to be cool with it. “Suck it up,” your television says, “If it wasn’t for me, you’d be playing charades with people you pretend to like.”
The “events” I’m referring to are usually one of two things: musicians coming into town or pro wrestling events. And they’re so awkwardly crammed into the plots that you can’t help but feel your joy be driven from your body like a screeching ghost while you watch. Nothing says “No one wants to be here, especially the people on your screen” like a sitcom episode that features a rock star or a professional wrestler. For example, watch this clip of the time the band Anthrax showed up on Married With Children. But only do it if you want to see a dozen people lose their enthusiasm for the arts allllll at once.
If you watched that and found your sense of happiness to still be alive and breathing, watch Stevie Wonder’s appearance on The Cosby Show, the kind of thing that only happens when the Devil is handling God’s day shift. And if you still have any delusions about the positive power of fiction, dash them by staring into the abyss of any pro wrestler cameo on any sitcom ever — cameos that are usually announced by characters who are suddenly into wrasslin’. This, as a wrasslin’ fan, is absurd from the ground up. You don’t just suddenly declare that there’s a wrestling show near you and that you’re into wrestling. You are into wrestling, and your family and friends spend their whole lives wishing that you’d shut the fuck up about it.
These episodes usually involve either a member of the cast and their stunt doubles clumsily recreating what a sitcom director thinks wrestling is like (like in Fuller House or The X-Files), or finding a way to work the fact that most wrestlers are seven feet wide into the plot (like in Boy Meets World or Smallville). Admittedly, the wrestlers usually seem like they’re having a better time on the shows than musicians do. But nothing clips the wings of your flight into TV wonderland faster than the harsh introduction of pro wrestling logic into an otherwise normal show. “These five friends are on a mission to find success and love in the big city, and over the years, you will fall in love with their wit and their willingness to find pleasure in the small things in life. Oh, and meet their new landlord, Big Van Vader, who is roughly the size of a Woolly Mammoth.”
Daniel is listening to “Yeah!”, as it’s the only thing that drowns out the loneliness. He is a brittle husk of a man on Twitter.
It sucks that your friends are always ruining movies for you, but you won’t need friends anymore after you get the Amazon Fire stick with Alexa voice remote.
If you loved this article and want more content like this, support our site with a visit to our Contribution Page. Please and thank you.
Source: http://allofbeer.com/5-common-things-hollywood-does-that-instantly-kills-a-story/
from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2019/01/08/5-common-things-hollywood-does-that-instantly-kills-a-story/
0 notes
adambstingus · 6 years ago
Text
5 Common Things Hollywood Does That Instantly Kills A Story
Usually, the factors that pull you out of your focus on a movie or TV show are external. Someone forgets to silence their cellphone, or your mom asks you a question about the plot, or your date from OKCupid decides that a matinee showing of Dunkirk is the perfect time to start getting handsy. That kind of thing. But sometimes it isn’t the fault of the unforgiving world around you. Sometimes movies and shows do the job themselves and awkwardly tear you from your haze, placing you in the uncomfortable territory of “Oh damn. I am watching something, and am terrifyingly aware of that.” How do movies stealthily slit the throat of their own escapism? Well, they do things like …
5
Pausing For The Cameo Of A Big Star
Despite the fact that modern TV is full of quality entertainment that would make movies break out in frustrated, jealous tears, it still operates on the archaic system of “Movies are where important things go, and TV is where you watch inconsequential drivel that serves as a placeholder for actual enjoyment.” Don’t believe me? Look at how shows treat guest stars who are mostly known from movies or other mediums. They are in awe of them. The camera lingers on them, telling you that while the regular cast is nice and all, you should now place your undivided attention on the god king who has just entered the room.
I’m always down for a good lingering camera if the context is right. Jeff Goldblum is returning for Jurassic World 2, and I will be deeply disappointed if his introduction shot stays at Beautiful Jeff Goldblum Face Level for anything less than 20 uninterrupted minutes. The same goes for when a character has seemingly died but then comes back triumphantly. When Lex Luthor showed up in the last episode of Smallville to remind viewers that Superman’s future would not lack bald megalomaniacs, the camera seems to be more thrilled about this than anyone. And it probably was, honestly. Being a living, breathing Smallville fan was not, how should I put this, a “fulfilling” experience.
But the pause that might as well double as a “Clap Now” sign reeks of desperation, and rips away any chance to view what you’re watching as smooth, organic fiction. I don’t demand absolute reality from things. There is NO ONE in the world worse than someone who can’t put their malfunction behind them for two fucking seconds and just HAS TO remind you that no, Batman couldn’t do that in real life. Those people are fun traitors. But when the camera stops to gaze at the bigger star who is encroaching on the lives of the peons who normally inhabit the show, it’s not just stopping the flow of the episode dead; it’s reminding you that Hollywood has a definite hierarchy. A being of shining light and multiple movie deals has deemed this cast of characters worth their time, and we should feel blessed on their behalf.
Even worse is that usually, these guest stars are pretty damn talented. When Steve Carell left The Office, the employees spent a few episodes trying to find a replacement for him. This led to a parade of guest stars like Will Ferrell, Will Arnett, and Jim Carrey, and you’d think that comedy powerhouses like these, when supplied with jokes on one of the best-written sitcoms of the 2000s, would provide an avalanche of humor. Homes destroyed and families torn apart from the sheer magnitude of the fucking comedy. But no, they just kind of shuffled through the show as the camera jammed itself into their pores, as if to scream “ISN’T IT COOL THAT WE GOT WILL GODDAMN ARNETT TO BE ON THE OFFICE? ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR WILL ARNETT FOR LOWERING HIMSELF ENOUGH TO BE HERE.”
4
The Biggest Name Is Usually The Killer
Dramatic shows that have any number of “good guys” require guest stars to keep going. Unless the creators of Law & Order want every plot to be “Ice T was the killer all along, but we forgave him, because aww, just look at him,” they need new talent to fill out the ranks of serial killers, pedophiles, and bartenders who just might have seen someone who looks like that. But this necessity has created a painfully obvious trend: Whenever a big name shows up in a series, they’re going to be doing big-name stuff. And apparently, big-name stuff always involves ruining the surprise.
I’ve talked about Dexter in a few columns because, really, I’m still coming to terms with it. You devote eight years of your life to a show, and then it ends with the plot equivalent of a drunk pissing on your head from a third-story balcony. So you begin to think really hard about whether it was ever that good. And I’ve come to this conclusion: Yeah, it had some really great parts, but man, it had the worst “I wonder what THIS guest star will do?” poker face in the industry.
The first two seasons of Dexter tell a perfectly contained story. And then in Season 3, Jimmy Smits swaggers in with a kind of “I’d like to get a beer with that guy” charisma that only Jimmy Smits really has. But then Jimmy Smits turns into EVIL Jimmy Smits, and Dexter has to kill him. Then John Lithgow shows up in Season 4, and while he’s great, the pattern is being established. By the time Colin Hanks burst into Season 6 with a plotline so terrible that it served as a Dexter Is Not Going To Get Good Again trumpet of the cancellation apocalypse, the standard had been set: If a new dude shows up on Dexter, that dude is almost 100 percent going to end up as Dexter’s table dressing.
Obviously, if an established actor shows up on a prestige TV drama, they’re going to be given a role with some meat to it. When William Hurt or whoever inevitably shows up on the fifth season of Westworld, they’re not going to be given the role of Blowjob Robot Bartender #4. They’re going to get Maniacal Douche Who Was Super Integral To The Creation Of Westworld Who We Never Really Discussed Before. And them basically spelling out what’s going to happen in the rest of the season or episode doesn’t stop them from giving a knockout performance. It just momentarily stops us from getting lost in the show.
It’s also admitting that we’ve kind of pigeonholed what we think makes for good, guest-star-worthy roles. Someone with any kind of positive qualities? Pssssh. Demented Man Child That Makes Tiny Doll Furniture Out Of His Victim’s Toenails? You can basically smell the Emmys on that one.
3
Being Waaaaay Too Self-Aware
Having a sense of self-awareness can be helpful. It’s what prevents you from deciding that your show about six friends who live in New York City is a fresh idea, and it gives you a moment of hesitation when you think “A guy named Harry meets a girl named Sally. HOW HAS NO ONE COME UP WITH THAT?!?”
Even adding a little self-awareness to your story isn’t so bad if you do it in nice doses. The reason The Cabin In The Woods works so well is that it comments on horror film tropes, but doesn’t rely on that to be effective. Compare that to something like Scream 4, where hoping that you get the reference is all that that movie has going for it. The first two Scream films are neat little venture into the nature of horror movies and their sequels, but by the time Scream 4 rolled around, the series had looped back through its own butthole and out of its mouth again in order to prove that it was still relevant. And it wouldn’t have had to do that if it had done the basic job of a movie, instead of relying on blistering self-awareness.
Community at its best was a show with so, so much heart. The love that the writers had for the characters bleeds through, and it’s a passion project carefully disguised as a typical prime-time sitcom. And in its early seasons, the series pulled off self-awareness pretty effortlessly. And maybe it’s due to the fact that Community began to lose core cast members starting in the fifth season, and the last half of the show was plagued with a shuffling creative team, but the self-awareness which had initially set it apart from regular shows became a crutch. The emotional stakes were lost, and in their place were constant comments about the nature of TV, which is like hearing your cheeseburger explain its own ingredients while you try to eat it.
Even vague self-awareness can be jarring if it comes out of nowhere. Kingsman: The Secret Service is a fantastic movie when it’s not talking about the spy movies that it’s borderline-parodying. If that scene in which Colin Firth was taking out the church full of bigots was still going to this day, I’d be okay with it. And don’t act like there isn’t a version of “Freebird” that is three years long. I know there is.
But slapped in the middle of the movie is a conversation between Firth and Samuel L. Jackson about the nature of spy flicks, as if they’re assuming that the audiences that have not yet seen the movie are already a little “out of the know” about what it’s trying to do. Come on, movie. Give us some credit.
2
Music That Defies The Laws Of The Universe
Movie soundtracks can do two very different things. They can heighten an experience, pulling you into the film in the way that a music-less scene could never do. They get your blood pumping without you even knowing, and pretty soon you’re first-pumping by yourself in the theater and screaming that you’ll be forever young at the top of your lungs. Hey, you’re doing it too, not necessarily just me. But a soundtrack can also drop you on your head, revealing that the movie that you’re watching is just a big marketing ploy by people who have figured that since you like Iron Man AND Ed Sheeran, putting both in the same movie at the same time will result in a dump truck full of dollar bills and hookers showing up to their houses.
How does it drop you from your cradle? Well, for one, it can bend the laws of time and space, forcing you to question why anyone would make a movie this way. Take the movie Hitch, for example, wherein Will Smith teaches dudes to talk to women, and teaches YOU to be more careful about picking out which Will Smith movies you go see. He teaches Kevin James how to dance in one scene, but starts his lesson by shutting off the music that’s playing at a party in the future? Future humans were dancing to that song, Will. Don’t cut a hole in the continuum of time when a motherfucker is trying to get down.
Will then puts on the song “Yeah!”, which you might remember from it being more popular than oxygen in the mid 2000s. And then Kevin James dances to “Yeah!” both at Will’s house and at this future party. My problem doesn’t lie with the song “Yeah!” showing up at two different places at two different times, because, again, I’ve heard “Yeah!” more than I’ve heard the Pledge of Allegiance, the National Anthem, and “I love you” combined. It’s just that this scene is edited in a way that makes you realize A) Hitch is a wizard, and B) this movie is a shallow attempt at getting us to like the song “Yeah!” more.
And sometimes a movie will feature a song that’s performed by an actor in that movie. Like how Texas Chainsaw 3D plays the song “2 Reasons,” and one of the characters listening to it and enjoying it is Trey Songz, the guy who sang “2 Reasons.” That’s not a slight wink and a nudge, filmmakers. That’s a big invisible hand coming out of the screen to jar you out of whatever good things you might be feeling and reminding you to go download “2 Reasons,” because the actor who fucking made “2 Reasons” in real life seems to really be enjoying “2 Reasons” in this completely fake life. If you want to give the audience a cue to simultaneously begin ignoring the movie and start playing around on their phones for a little bit, this one is as good as any.
1
“Event” Episodes Where No One Is Happy To Be There
Earlier, I mentioned guest actors, and spoke pretty harshly of them. My apologies, guest actors. To make it up to you, the rest of this column will be written by John Stamos, and he will be playing the role of me. I make these amends because guest actors aren’t the worst things to take you out of TV shows. That honor goes to “event” episodes in which non-actors are given roles, and we’re supposed to be cool with it. “Suck it up,” your television says, “If it wasn’t for me, you’d be playing charades with people you pretend to like.”
The “events” I’m referring to are usually one of two things: musicians coming into town or pro wrestling events. And they’re so awkwardly crammed into the plots that you can’t help but feel your joy be driven from your body like a screeching ghost while you watch. Nothing says “No one wants to be here, especially the people on your screen” like a sitcom episode that features a rock star or a professional wrestler. For example, watch this clip of the time the band Anthrax showed up on Married With Children. But only do it if you want to see a dozen people lose their enthusiasm for the arts allllll at once.
If you watched that and found your sense of happiness to still be alive and breathing, watch Stevie Wonder’s appearance on The Cosby Show, the kind of thing that only happens when the Devil is handling God’s day shift. And if you still have any delusions about the positive power of fiction, dash them by staring into the abyss of any pro wrestler cameo on any sitcom ever — cameos that are usually announced by characters who are suddenly into wrasslin’. This, as a wrasslin’ fan, is absurd from the ground up. You don’t just suddenly declare that there’s a wrestling show near you and that you’re into wrestling. You are into wrestling, and your family and friends spend their whole lives wishing that you’d shut the fuck up about it.
These episodes usually involve either a member of the cast and their stunt doubles clumsily recreating what a sitcom director thinks wrestling is like (like in Fuller House or The X-Files), or finding a way to work the fact that most wrestlers are seven feet wide into the plot (like in Boy Meets World or Smallville). Admittedly, the wrestlers usually seem like they’re having a better time on the shows than musicians do. But nothing clips the wings of your flight into TV wonderland faster than the harsh introduction of pro wrestling logic into an otherwise normal show. “These five friends are on a mission to find success and love in the big city, and over the years, you will fall in love with their wit and their willingness to find pleasure in the small things in life. Oh, and meet their new landlord, Big Van Vader, who is roughly the size of a Woolly Mammoth.”
Daniel is listening to “Yeah!”, as it’s the only thing that drowns out the loneliness. He is a brittle husk of a man on Twitter.
It sucks that your friends are always ruining movies for you, but you won’t need friends anymore after you get the Amazon Fire stick with Alexa voice remote.
If you loved this article and want more content like this, support our site with a visit to our Contribution Page. Please and thank you.
from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/5-common-things-hollywood-does-that-instantly-kills-a-story/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/181849531207
0 notes
allofbeercom · 6 years ago
Text
5 Common Things Hollywood Does That Instantly Kills A Story
Usually, the factors that pull you out of your focus on a movie or TV show are external. Someone forgets to silence their cellphone, or your mom asks you a question about the plot, or your date from OKCupid decides that a matinee showing of Dunkirk is the perfect time to start getting handsy. That kind of thing. But sometimes it isn’t the fault of the unforgiving world around you. Sometimes movies and shows do the job themselves and awkwardly tear you from your haze, placing you in the uncomfortable territory of “Oh damn. I am watching something, and am terrifyingly aware of that.” How do movies stealthily slit the throat of their own escapism? Well, they do things like …
5
Pausing For The Cameo Of A Big Star
Despite the fact that modern TV is full of quality entertainment that would make movies break out in frustrated, jealous tears, it still operates on the archaic system of “Movies are where important things go, and TV is where you watch inconsequential drivel that serves as a placeholder for actual enjoyment.” Don’t believe me? Look at how shows treat guest stars who are mostly known from movies or other mediums. They are in awe of them. The camera lingers on them, telling you that while the regular cast is nice and all, you should now place your undivided attention on the god king who has just entered the room.
I’m always down for a good lingering camera if the context is right. Jeff Goldblum is returning for Jurassic World 2, and I will be deeply disappointed if his introduction shot stays at Beautiful Jeff Goldblum Face Level for anything less than 20 uninterrupted minutes. The same goes for when a character has seemingly died but then comes back triumphantly. When Lex Luthor showed up in the last episode of Smallville to remind viewers that Superman’s future would not lack bald megalomaniacs, the camera seems to be more thrilled about this than anyone. And it probably was, honestly. Being a living, breathing Smallville fan was not, how should I put this, a “fulfilling” experience.
But the pause that might as well double as a “Clap Now” sign reeks of desperation, and rips away any chance to view what you’re watching as smooth, organic fiction. I don’t demand absolute reality from things. There is NO ONE in the world worse than someone who can’t put their malfunction behind them for two fucking seconds and just HAS TO remind you that no, Batman couldn’t do that in real life. Those people are fun traitors. But when the camera stops to gaze at the bigger star who is encroaching on the lives of the peons who normally inhabit the show, it’s not just stopping the flow of the episode dead; it’s reminding you that Hollywood has a definite hierarchy. A being of shining light and multiple movie deals has deemed this cast of characters worth their time, and we should feel blessed on their behalf.
Even worse is that usually, these guest stars are pretty damn talented. When Steve Carell left The Office, the employees spent a few episodes trying to find a replacement for him. This led to a parade of guest stars like Will Ferrell, Will Arnett, and Jim Carrey, and you’d think that comedy powerhouses like these, when supplied with jokes on one of the best-written sitcoms of the 2000s, would provide an avalanche of humor. Homes destroyed and families torn apart from the sheer magnitude of the fucking comedy. But no, they just kind of shuffled through the show as the camera jammed itself into their pores, as if to scream “ISN’T IT COOL THAT WE GOT WILL GODDAMN ARNETT TO BE ON THE OFFICE? ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR WILL ARNETT FOR LOWERING HIMSELF ENOUGH TO BE HERE.”
4
The Biggest Name Is Usually The Killer
Dramatic shows that have any number of “good guys” require guest stars to keep going. Unless the creators of Law & Order want every plot to be “Ice T was the killer all along, but we forgave him, because aww, just look at him,” they need new talent to fill out the ranks of serial killers, pedophiles, and bartenders who just might have seen someone who looks like that. But this necessity has created a painfully obvious trend: Whenever a big name shows up in a series, they’re going to be doing big-name stuff. And apparently, big-name stuff always involves ruining the surprise.
I’ve talked about Dexter in a few columns because, really, I’m still coming to terms with it. You devote eight years of your life to a show, and then it ends with the plot equivalent of a drunk pissing on your head from a third-story balcony. So you begin to think really hard about whether it was ever that good. And I’ve come to this conclusion: Yeah, it had some really great parts, but man, it had the worst “I wonder what THIS guest star will do?” poker face in the industry.
The first two seasons of Dexter tell a perfectly contained story. And then in Season 3, Jimmy Smits swaggers in with a kind of “I’d like to get a beer with that guy” charisma that only Jimmy Smits really has. But then Jimmy Smits turns into EVIL Jimmy Smits, and Dexter has to kill him. Then John Lithgow shows up in Season 4, and while he’s great, the pattern is being established. By the time Colin Hanks burst into Season 6 with a plotline so terrible that it served as a Dexter Is Not Going To Get Good Again trumpet of the cancellation apocalypse, the standard had been set: If a new dude shows up on Dexter, that dude is almost 100 percent going to end up as Dexter’s table dressing.
Obviously, if an established actor shows up on a prestige TV drama, they’re going to be given a role with some meat to it. When William Hurt or whoever inevitably shows up on the fifth season of Westworld, they’re not going to be given the role of Blowjob Robot Bartender #4. They’re going to get Maniacal Douche Who Was Super Integral To The Creation Of Westworld Who We Never Really Discussed Before. And them basically spelling out what’s going to happen in the rest of the season or episode doesn’t stop them from giving a knockout performance. It just momentarily stops us from getting lost in the show.
It’s also admitting that we’ve kind of pigeonholed what we think makes for good, guest-star-worthy roles. Someone with any kind of positive qualities? Pssssh. Demented Man Child That Makes Tiny Doll Furniture Out Of His Victim’s Toenails? You can basically smell the Emmys on that one.
3
Being Waaaaay Too Self-Aware
Having a sense of self-awareness can be helpful. It’s what prevents you from deciding that your show about six friends who live in New York City is a fresh idea, and it gives you a moment of hesitation when you think “A guy named Harry meets a girl named Sally. HOW HAS NO ONE COME UP WITH THAT?!?”
Even adding a little self-awareness to your story isn’t so bad if you do it in nice doses. The reason The Cabin In The Woods works so well is that it comments on horror film tropes, but doesn’t rely on that to be effective. Compare that to something like Scream 4, where hoping that you get the reference is all that that movie has going for it. The first two Scream films are neat little venture into the nature of horror movies and their sequels, but by the time Scream 4 rolled around, the series had looped back through its own butthole and out of its mouth again in order to prove that it was still relevant. And it wouldn’t have had to do that if it had done the basic job of a movie, instead of relying on blistering self-awareness.
Community at its best was a show with so, so much heart. The love that the writers had for the characters bleeds through, and it’s a passion project carefully disguised as a typical prime-time sitcom. And in its early seasons, the series pulled off self-awareness pretty effortlessly. And maybe it’s due to the fact that Community began to lose core cast members starting in the fifth season, and the last half of the show was plagued with a shuffling creative team, but the self-awareness which had initially set it apart from regular shows became a crutch. The emotional stakes were lost, and in their place were constant comments about the nature of TV, which is like hearing your cheeseburger explain its own ingredients while you try to eat it.
Even vague self-awareness can be jarring if it comes out of nowhere. Kingsman: The Secret Service is a fantastic movie when it’s not talking about the spy movies that it’s borderline-parodying. If that scene in which Colin Firth was taking out the church full of bigots was still going to this day, I’d be okay with it. And don’t act like there isn’t a version of “Freebird” that is three years long. I know there is.
But slapped in the middle of the movie is a conversation between Firth and Samuel L. Jackson about the nature of spy flicks, as if they’re assuming that the audiences that have not yet seen the movie are already a little “out of the know” about what it’s trying to do. Come on, movie. Give us some credit.
2
Music That Defies The Laws Of The Universe
Movie soundtracks can do two very different things. They can heighten an experience, pulling you into the film in the way that a music-less scene could never do. They get your blood pumping without you even knowing, and pretty soon you’re first-pumping by yourself in the theater and screaming that you’ll be forever young at the top of your lungs. Hey, you’re doing it too, not necessarily just me. But a soundtrack can also drop you on your head, revealing that the movie that you’re watching is just a big marketing ploy by people who have figured that since you like Iron Man AND Ed Sheeran, putting both in the same movie at the same time will result in a dump truck full of dollar bills and hookers showing up to their houses.
How does it drop you from your cradle? Well, for one, it can bend the laws of time and space, forcing you to question why anyone would make a movie this way. Take the movie Hitch, for example, wherein Will Smith teaches dudes to talk to women, and teaches YOU to be more careful about picking out which Will Smith movies you go see. He teaches Kevin James how to dance in one scene, but starts his lesson by shutting off the music that’s playing at a party in the future? Future humans were dancing to that song, Will. Don’t cut a hole in the continuum of time when a motherfucker is trying to get down.
Will then puts on the song “Yeah!”, which you might remember from it being more popular than oxygen in the mid 2000s. And then Kevin James dances to “Yeah!” both at Will’s house and at this future party. My problem doesn’t lie with the song “Yeah!” showing up at two different places at two different times, because, again, I’ve heard “Yeah!” more than I’ve heard the Pledge of Allegiance, the National Anthem, and “I love you” combined. It’s just that this scene is edited in a way that makes you realize A) Hitch is a wizard, and B) this movie is a shallow attempt at getting us to like the song “Yeah!” more.
And sometimes a movie will feature a song that’s performed by an actor in that movie. Like how Texas Chainsaw 3D plays the song “2 Reasons,” and one of the characters listening to it and enjoying it is Trey Songz, the guy who sang “2 Reasons.” That’s not a slight wink and a nudge, filmmakers. That’s a big invisible hand coming out of the screen to jar you out of whatever good things you might be feeling and reminding you to go download “2 Reasons,” because the actor who fucking made “2 Reasons” in real life seems to really be enjoying “2 Reasons” in this completely fake life. If you want to give the audience a cue to simultaneously begin ignoring the movie and start playing around on their phones for a little bit, this one is as good as any.
1
“Event” Episodes Where No One Is Happy To Be There
Earlier, I mentioned guest actors, and spoke pretty harshly of them. My apologies, guest actors. To make it up to you, the rest of this column will be written by John Stamos, and he will be playing the role of me. I make these amends because guest actors aren’t the worst things to take you out of TV shows. That honor goes to “event” episodes in which non-actors are given roles, and we’re supposed to be cool with it. “Suck it up,” your television says, “If it wasn’t for me, you’d be playing charades with people you pretend to like.”
The “events” I’m referring to are usually one of two things: musicians coming into town or pro wrestling events. And they’re so awkwardly crammed into the plots that you can’t help but feel your joy be driven from your body like a screeching ghost while you watch. Nothing says “No one wants to be here, especially the people on your screen” like a sitcom episode that features a rock star or a professional wrestler. For example, watch this clip of the time the band Anthrax showed up on Married With Children. But only do it if you want to see a dozen people lose their enthusiasm for the arts allllll at once.
If you watched that and found your sense of happiness to still be alive and breathing, watch Stevie Wonder’s appearance on The Cosby Show, the kind of thing that only happens when the Devil is handling God’s day shift. And if you still have any delusions about the positive power of fiction, dash them by staring into the abyss of any pro wrestler cameo on any sitcom ever — cameos that are usually announced by characters who are suddenly into wrasslin’. This, as a wrasslin’ fan, is absurd from the ground up. You don’t just suddenly declare that there’s a wrestling show near you and that you’re into wrestling. You are into wrestling, and your family and friends spend their whole lives wishing that you’d shut the fuck up about it.
These episodes usually involve either a member of the cast and their stunt doubles clumsily recreating what a sitcom director thinks wrestling is like (like in Fuller House or The X-Files), or finding a way to work the fact that most wrestlers are seven feet wide into the plot (like in Boy Meets World or Smallville). Admittedly, the wrestlers usually seem like they’re having a better time on the shows than musicians do. But nothing clips the wings of your flight into TV wonderland faster than the harsh introduction of pro wrestling logic into an otherwise normal show. “These five friends are on a mission to find success and love in the big city, and over the years, you will fall in love with their wit and their willingness to find pleasure in the small things in life. Oh, and meet their new landlord, Big Van Vader, who is roughly the size of a Woolly Mammoth.”
Daniel is listening to “Yeah!”, as it’s the only thing that drowns out the loneliness. He is a brittle husk of a man on Twitter.
It sucks that your friends are always ruining movies for you, but you won’t need friends anymore after you get the Amazon Fire stick with Alexa voice remote.
If you loved this article and want more content like this, support our site with a visit to our Contribution Page. Please and thank you.
from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/5-common-things-hollywood-does-that-instantly-kills-a-story/
0 notes
trendingnewsb · 7 years ago
Text
5 Common Things Hollywood Does That Instantly Kills A Story
Usually, the factors that pull you out of your focus on a movie or TV show are external. Someone forgets to silence their cellphone, or your mom asks you a question about the plot, or your date from OKCupid decides that a matinee showing of Dunkirk is the perfect time to start getting handsy. That kind of thing. But sometimes it isn’t the fault of the unforgiving world around you. Sometimes movies and shows do the job themselves and awkwardly tear you from your haze, placing you in the uncomfortable territory of “Oh damn. I am watching something, and am terrifyingly aware of that.” How do movies stealthily slit the throat of their own escapism? Well, they do things like …
5
Pausing For The Cameo Of A Big Star
Despite the fact that modern TV is full of quality entertainment that would make movies break out in frustrated, jealous tears, it still operates on the archaic system of “Movies are where important things go, and TV is where you watch inconsequential drivel that serves as a placeholder for actual enjoyment.” Don’t believe me? Look at how shows treat guest stars who are mostly known from movies or other mediums. They are in awe of them. The camera lingers on them, telling you that while the regular cast is nice and all, you should now place your undivided attention on the god king who has just entered the room.
I’m always down for a good lingering camera if the context is right. Jeff Goldblum is returning for Jurassic World 2, and I will be deeply disappointed if his introduction shot stays at Beautiful Jeff Goldblum Face Level for anything less than 20 uninterrupted minutes. The same goes for when a character has seemingly died but then comes back triumphantly. When Lex Luthor showed up in the last episode of Smallville to remind viewers that Superman’s future would not lack bald megalomaniacs, the camera seems to be more thrilled about this than anyone. And it probably was, honestly. Being a living, breathing Smallville fan was not, how should I put this, a “fulfilling” experience.
But the pause that might as well double as a “Clap Now” sign reeks of desperation, and rips away any chance to view what you’re watching as smooth, organic fiction. I don’t demand absolute reality from things. There is NO ONE in the world worse than someone who can’t put their malfunction behind them for two fucking seconds and just HAS TO remind you that no, Batman couldn’t do that in real life. Those people are fun traitors. But when the camera stops to gaze at the bigger star who is encroaching on the lives of the peons who normally inhabit the show, it’s not just stopping the flow of the episode dead; it’s reminding you that Hollywood has a definite hierarchy. A being of shining light and multiple movie deals has deemed this cast of characters worth their time, and we should feel blessed on their behalf.
Even worse is that usually, these guest stars are pretty damn talented. When Steve Carell left The Office, the employees spent a few episodes trying to find a replacement for him. This led to a parade of guest stars like Will Ferrell, Will Arnett, and Jim Carrey, and you’d think that comedy powerhouses like these, when supplied with jokes on one of the best-written sitcoms of the 2000s, would provide an avalanche of humor. Homes destroyed and families torn apart from the sheer magnitude of the fucking comedy. But no, they just kind of shuffled through the show as the camera jammed itself into their pores, as if to scream “ISN’T IT COOL THAT WE GOT WILL GODDAMN ARNETT TO BE ON THE OFFICE? ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR WILL ARNETT FOR LOWERING HIMSELF ENOUGH TO BE HERE.”
4
The Biggest Name Is Usually The Killer
Dramatic shows that have any number of “good guys” require guest stars to keep going. Unless the creators of Law & Order want every plot to be “Ice T was the killer all along, but we forgave him, because aww, just look at him,” they need new talent to fill out the ranks of serial killers, pedophiles, and bartenders who just might have seen someone who looks like that. But this necessity has created a painfully obvious trend: Whenever a big name shows up in a series, they’re going to be doing big-name stuff. And apparently, big-name stuff always involves ruining the surprise.
I’ve talked about Dexter in a few columns because, really, I’m still coming to terms with it. You devote eight years of your life to a show, and then it ends with the plot equivalent of a drunk pissing on your head from a third-story balcony. So you begin to think really hard about whether it was ever that good. And I’ve come to this conclusion: Yeah, it had some really great parts, but man, it had the worst “I wonder what THIS guest star will do?” poker face in the industry.
The first two seasons of Dexter tell a perfectly contained story. And then in Season 3, Jimmy Smits swaggers in with a kind of “I’d like to get a beer with that guy” charisma that only Jimmy Smits really has. But then Jimmy Smits turns into EVIL Jimmy Smits, and Dexter has to kill him. Then John Lithgow shows up in Season 4, and while he’s great, the pattern is being established. By the time Colin Hanks burst into Season 6 with a plotline so terrible that it served as a Dexter Is Not Going To Get Good Again trumpet of the cancellation apocalypse, the standard had been set: If a new dude shows up on Dexter, that dude is almost 100 percent going to end up as Dexter’s table dressing.
Obviously, if an established actor shows up on a prestige TV drama, they’re going to be given a role with some meat to it. When William Hurt or whoever inevitably shows up on the fifth season of Westworld, they’re not going to be given the role of Blowjob Robot Bartender #4. They’re going to get Maniacal Douche Who Was Super Integral To The Creation Of Westworld Who We Never Really Discussed Before. And them basically spelling out what’s going to happen in the rest of the season or episode doesn’t stop them from giving a knockout performance. It just momentarily stops us from getting lost in the show.
It’s also admitting that we’ve kind of pigeonholed what we think makes for good, guest-star-worthy roles. Someone with any kind of positive qualities? Pssssh. Demented Man Child That Makes Tiny Doll Furniture Out Of His Victim’s Toenails? You can basically smell the Emmys on that one.
3
Being Waaaaay Too Self-Aware
Having a sense of self-awareness can be helpful. It’s what prevents you from deciding that your show about six friends who live in New York City is a fresh idea, and it gives you a moment of hesitation when you think “A guy named Harry meets a girl named Sally. HOW HAS NO ONE COME UP WITH THAT?!?”
Even adding a little self-awareness to your story isn’t so bad if you do it in nice doses. The reason The Cabin In The Woods works so well is that it comments on horror film tropes, but doesn’t rely on that to be effective. Compare that to something like Scream 4, where hoping that you get the reference is all that that movie has going for it. The first two Scream films are neat little venture into the nature of horror movies and their sequels, but by the time Scream 4 rolled around, the series had looped back through its own butthole and out of its mouth again in order to prove that it was still relevant. And it wouldn’t have had to do that if it had done the basic job of a movie, instead of relying on blistering self-awareness.
Community at its best was a show with so, so much heart. The love that the writers had for the characters bleeds through, and it’s a passion project carefully disguised as a typical prime-time sitcom. And in its early seasons, the series pulled off self-awareness pretty effortlessly. And maybe it’s due to the fact that Community began to lose core cast members starting in the fifth season, and the last half of the show was plagued with a shuffling creative team, but the self-awareness which had initially set it apart from regular shows became a crutch. The emotional stakes were lost, and in their place were constant comments about the nature of TV, which is like hearing your cheeseburger explain its own ingredients while you try to eat it.
Even vague self-awareness can be jarring if it comes out of nowhere. Kingsman: The Secret Service is a fantastic movie when it’s not talking about the spy movies that it’s borderline-parodying. If that scene in which Colin Firth was taking out the church full of bigots was still going to this day, I’d be okay with it. And don’t act like there isn’t a version of “Freebird” that is three years long. I know there is.
youtube
But slapped in the middle of the movie is a conversation between Firth and Samuel L. Jackson about the nature of spy flicks, as if they’re assuming that the audiences that have not yet seen the movie are already a little “out of the know” about what it’s trying to do. Come on, movie. Give us some credit.
2
Music That Defies The Laws Of The Universe
Movie soundtracks can do two very different things. They can heighten an experience, pulling you into the film in the way that a music-less scene could never do. They get your blood pumping without you even knowing, and pretty soon you’re first-pumping by yourself in the theater and screaming that you’ll be forever young at the top of your lungs. Hey, you’re doing it too, not necessarily just me. But a soundtrack can also drop you on your head, revealing that the movie that you’re watching is just a big marketing ploy by people who have figured that since you like Iron Man AND Ed Sheeran, putting both in the same movie at the same time will result in a dump truck full of dollar bills and hookers showing up to their houses.
How does it drop you from your cradle? Well, for one, it can bend the laws of time and space, forcing you to question why anyone would make a movie this way. Take the movie Hitch, for example, wherein Will Smith teaches dudes to talk to women, and teaches YOU to be more careful about picking out which Will Smith movies you go see. He teaches Kevin James how to dance in one scene, but starts his lesson by shutting off the music that’s playing at a party in the future? Future humans were dancing to that song, Will. Don’t cut a hole in the continuum of time when a motherfucker is trying to get down.
youtube
Will then puts on the song “Yeah!”, which you might remember from it being more popular than oxygen in the mid 2000s. And then Kevin James dances to “Yeah!” both at Will’s house and at this future party. My problem doesn’t lie with the song “Yeah!” showing up at two different places at two different times, because, again, I’ve heard “Yeah!” more than I’ve heard the Pledge of Allegiance, the National Anthem, and “I love you” combined. It’s just that this scene is edited in a way that makes you realize A) Hitch is a wizard, and B) this movie is a shallow attempt at getting us to like the song “Yeah!” more.
And sometimes a movie will feature a song that’s performed by an actor in that movie. Like how Texas Chainsaw 3D plays the song “2 Reasons,” and one of the characters listening to it and enjoying it is Trey Songz, the guy who sang “2 Reasons.” That’s not a slight wink and a nudge, filmmakers. That’s a big invisible hand coming out of the screen to jar you out of whatever good things you might be feeling and reminding you to go download “2 Reasons,” because the actor who fucking made “2 Reasons” in real life seems to really be enjoying “2 Reasons” in this completely fake life. If you want to give the audience a cue to simultaneously begin ignoring the movie and start playing around on their phones for a little bit, this one is as good as any.
1
“Event” Episodes Where No One Is Happy To Be There
Earlier, I mentioned guest actors, and spoke pretty harshly of them. My apologies, guest actors. To make it up to you, the rest of this column will be written by John Stamos, and he will be playing the role of me. I make these amends because guest actors aren’t the worst things to take you out of TV shows. That honor goes to “event” episodes in which non-actors are given roles, and we’re supposed to be cool with it. “Suck it up,” your television says, “If it wasn’t for me, you’d be playing charades with people you pretend to like.”
The “events” I’m referring to are usually one of two things: musicians coming into town or pro wrestling events. And they’re so awkwardly crammed into the plots that you can’t help but feel your joy be driven from your body like a screeching ghost while you watch. Nothing says “No one wants to be here, especially the people on your screen” like a sitcom episode that features a rock star or a professional wrestler. For example, watch this clip of the time the band Anthrax showed up on Married With Children. But only do it if you want to see a dozen people lose their enthusiasm for the arts allllll at once.
youtube
If you watched that and found your sense of happiness to still be alive and breathing, watch Stevie Wonder’s appearance on The Cosby Show, the kind of thing that only happens when the Devil is handling God’s day shift. And if you still have any delusions about the positive power of fiction, dash them by staring into the abyss of any pro wrestler cameo on any sitcom ever — cameos that are usually announced by characters who are suddenly into wrasslin’. This, as a wrasslin’ fan, is absurd from the ground up. You don’t just suddenly declare that there’s a wrestling show near you and that you’re into wrestling. You are into wrestling, and your family and friends spend their whole lives wishing that you’d shut the fuck up about it.
These episodes usually involve either a member of the cast and their stunt doubles clumsily recreating what a sitcom director thinks wrestling is like (like in Fuller House or The X-Files), or finding a way to work the fact that most wrestlers are seven feet wide into the plot (like in Boy Meets World or Smallville). Admittedly, the wrestlers usually seem like they’re having a better time on the shows than musicians do. But nothing clips the wings of your flight into TV wonderland faster than the harsh introduction of pro wrestling logic into an otherwise normal show. “These five friends are on a mission to find success and love in the big city, and over the years, you will fall in love with their wit and their willingness to find pleasure in the small things in life. Oh, and meet their new landlord, Big Van Vader, who is roughly the size of a Woolly Mammoth.”
Daniel is listening to “Yeah!”, as it’s the only thing that drowns out the loneliness. He is a brittle husk of a man on Twitter.
It sucks that your friends are always ruining movies for you, but you won’t need friends anymore after you get the Amazon Fire stick with Alexa voice remote.
If you loved this article and want more content like this, support our site with a visit to our Contribution Page. Please and thank you.
Read more: http://ift.tt/2xHNr52
from Viral News HQ http://ift.tt/2zhtrqK via Viral News HQ
0 notes
trendingnewsb · 7 years ago
Text
5 Common Things Hollywood Does That Instantly Kills A Story
Usually, the factors that pull you out of your focus on a movie or TV show are external. Someone forgets to silence their cellphone, or your mom asks you a question about the plot, or your date from OKCupid decides that a matinee showing of Dunkirk is the perfect time to start getting handsy. That kind of thing. But sometimes it isn’t the fault of the unforgiving world around you. Sometimes movies and shows do the job themselves and awkwardly tear you from your haze, placing you in the uncomfortable territory of “Oh damn. I am watching something, and am terrifyingly aware of that.” How do movies stealthily slit the throat of their own escapism? Well, they do things like …
5
Pausing For The Cameo Of A Big Star
Despite the fact that modern TV is full of quality entertainment that would make movies break out in frustrated, jealous tears, it still operates on the archaic system of “Movies are where important things go, and TV is where you watch inconsequential drivel that serves as a placeholder for actual enjoyment.” Don’t believe me? Look at how shows treat guest stars who are mostly known from movies or other mediums. They are in awe of them. The camera lingers on them, telling you that while the regular cast is nice and all, you should now place your undivided attention on the god king who has just entered the room.
I’m always down for a good lingering camera if the context is right. Jeff Goldblum is returning for Jurassic World 2, and I will be deeply disappointed if his introduction shot stays at Beautiful Jeff Goldblum Face Level for anything less than 20 uninterrupted minutes. The same goes for when a character has seemingly died but then comes back triumphantly. When Lex Luthor showed up in the last episode of Smallville to remind viewers that Superman’s future would not lack bald megalomaniacs, the camera seems to be more thrilled about this than anyone. And it probably was, honestly. Being a living, breathing Smallville fan was not, how should I put this, a “fulfilling” experience.
But the pause that might as well double as a “Clap Now” sign reeks of desperation, and rips away any chance to view what you’re watching as smooth, organic fiction. I don’t demand absolute reality from things. There is NO ONE in the world worse than someone who can’t put their malfunction behind them for two fucking seconds and just HAS TO remind you that no, Batman couldn’t do that in real life. Those people are fun traitors. But when the camera stops to gaze at the bigger star who is encroaching on the lives of the peons who normally inhabit the show, it’s not just stopping the flow of the episode dead; it’s reminding you that Hollywood has a definite hierarchy. A being of shining light and multiple movie deals has deemed this cast of characters worth their time, and we should feel blessed on their behalf.
Even worse is that usually, these guest stars are pretty damn talented. When Steve Carell left The Office, the employees spent a few episodes trying to find a replacement for him. This led to a parade of guest stars like Will Ferrell, Will Arnett, and Jim Carrey, and you’d think that comedy powerhouses like these, when supplied with jokes on one of the best-written sitcoms of the 2000s, would provide an avalanche of humor. Homes destroyed and families torn apart from the sheer magnitude of the fucking comedy. But no, they just kind of shuffled through the show as the camera jammed itself into their pores, as if to scream “ISN’T IT COOL THAT WE GOT WILL GODDAMN ARNETT TO BE ON THE OFFICE? ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR WILL ARNETT FOR LOWERING HIMSELF ENOUGH TO BE HERE.”
4
The Biggest Name Is Usually The Killer
Dramatic shows that have any number of “good guys” require guest stars to keep going. Unless the creators of Law & Order want every plot to be “Ice T was the killer all along, but we forgave him, because aww, just look at him,” they need new talent to fill out the ranks of serial killers, pedophiles, and bartenders who just might have seen someone who looks like that. But this necessity has created a painfully obvious trend: Whenever a big name shows up in a series, they’re going to be doing big-name stuff. And apparently, big-name stuff always involves ruining the surprise.
I’ve talked about Dexter in a few columns because, really, I’m still coming to terms with it. You devote eight years of your life to a show, and then it ends with the plot equivalent of a drunk pissing on your head from a third-story balcony. So you begin to think really hard about whether it was ever that good. And I’ve come to this conclusion: Yeah, it had some really great parts, but man, it had the worst “I wonder what THIS guest star will do?” poker face in the industry.
The first two seasons of Dexter tell a perfectly contained story. And then in Season 3, Jimmy Smits swaggers in with a kind of “I’d like to get a beer with that guy” charisma that only Jimmy Smits really has. But then Jimmy Smits turns into EVIL Jimmy Smits, and Dexter has to kill him. Then John Lithgow shows up in Season 4, and while he’s great, the pattern is being established. By the time Colin Hanks burst into Season 6 with a plotline so terrible that it served as a Dexter Is Not Going To Get Good Again trumpet of the cancellation apocalypse, the standard had been set: If a new dude shows up on Dexter, that dude is almost 100 percent going to end up as Dexter’s table dressing.
Obviously, if an established actor shows up on a prestige TV drama, they’re going to be given a role with some meat to it. When William Hurt or whoever inevitably shows up on the fifth season of Westworld, they’re not going to be given the role of Blowjob Robot Bartender #4. They’re going to get Maniacal Douche Who Was Super Integral To The Creation Of Westworld Who We Never Really Discussed Before. And them basically spelling out what’s going to happen in the rest of the season or episode doesn’t stop them from giving a knockout performance. It just momentarily stops us from getting lost in the show.
It’s also admitting that we’ve kind of pigeonholed what we think makes for good, guest-star-worthy roles. Someone with any kind of positive qualities? Pssssh. Demented Man Child That Makes Tiny Doll Furniture Out Of His Victim’s Toenails? You can basically smell the Emmys on that one.
3
Being Waaaaay Too Self-Aware
Having a sense of self-awareness can be helpful. It’s what prevents you from deciding that your show about six friends who live in New York City is a fresh idea, and it gives you a moment of hesitation when you think “A guy named Harry meets a girl named Sally. HOW HAS NO ONE COME UP WITH THAT?!?”
Even adding a little self-awareness to your story isn’t so bad if you do it in nice doses. The reason The Cabin In The Woods works so well is that it comments on horror film tropes, but doesn’t rely on that to be effective. Compare that to something like Scream 4, where hoping that you get the reference is all that that movie has going for it. The first two Scream films are neat little venture into the nature of horror movies and their sequels, but by the time Scream 4 rolled around, the series had looped back through its own butthole and out of its mouth again in order to prove that it was still relevant. And it wouldn’t have had to do that if it had done the basic job of a movie, instead of relying on blistering self-awareness.
Community at its best was a show with so, so much heart. The love that the writers had for the characters bleeds through, and it’s a passion project carefully disguised as a typical prime-time sitcom. And in its early seasons, the series pulled off self-awareness pretty effortlessly. And maybe it’s due to the fact that Community began to lose core cast members starting in the fifth season, and the last half of the show was plagued with a shuffling creative team, but the self-awareness which had initially set it apart from regular shows became a crutch. The emotional stakes were lost, and in their place were constant comments about the nature of TV, which is like hearing your cheeseburger explain its own ingredients while you try to eat it.
Even vague self-awareness can be jarring if it comes out of nowhere. Kingsman: The Secret Service is a fantastic movie when it’s not talking about the spy movies that it’s borderline-parodying. If that scene in which Colin Firth was taking out the church full of bigots was still going to this day, I’d be okay with it. And don’t act like there isn’t a version of “Freebird” that is three years long. I know there is.
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But slapped in the middle of the movie is a conversation between Firth and Samuel L. Jackson about the nature of spy flicks, as if they’re assuming that the audiences that have not yet seen the movie are already a little “out of the know” about what it’s trying to do. Come on, movie. Give us some credit.
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Music That Defies The Laws Of The Universe
Movie soundtracks can do two very different things. They can heighten an experience, pulling you into the film in the way that a music-less scene could never do. They get your blood pumping without you even knowing, and pretty soon you’re first-pumping by yourself in the theater and screaming that you’ll be forever young at the top of your lungs. Hey, you’re doing it too, not necessarily just me. But a soundtrack can also drop you on your head, revealing that the movie that you’re watching is just a big marketing ploy by people who have figured that since you like Iron Man AND Ed Sheeran, putting both in the same movie at the same time will result in a dump truck full of dollar bills and hookers showing up to their houses.
How does it drop you from your cradle? Well, for one, it can bend the laws of time and space, forcing you to question why anyone would make a movie this way. Take the movie Hitch, for example, wherein Will Smith teaches dudes to talk to women, and teaches YOU to be more careful about picking out which Will Smith movies you go see. He teaches Kevin James how to dance in one scene, but starts his lesson by shutting off the music that’s playing at a party in the future? Future humans were dancing to that song, Will. Don’t cut a hole in the continuum of time when a motherfucker is trying to get down.
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Will then puts on the song “Yeah!”, which you might remember from it being more popular than oxygen in the mid 2000s. And then Kevin James dances to “Yeah!” both at Will’s house and at this future party. My problem doesn’t lie with the song “Yeah!” showing up at two different places at two different times, because, again, I’ve heard “Yeah!” more than I’ve heard the Pledge of Allegiance, the National Anthem, and “I love you” combined. It’s just that this scene is edited in a way that makes you realize A) Hitch is a wizard, and B) this movie is a shallow attempt at getting us to like the song “Yeah!” more.
And sometimes a movie will feature a song that’s performed by an actor in that movie. Like how Texas Chainsaw 3D plays the song “2 Reasons,” and one of the characters listening to it and enjoying it is Trey Songz, the guy who sang “2 Reasons.” That’s not a slight wink and a nudge, filmmakers. That’s a big invisible hand coming out of the screen to jar you out of whatever good things you might be feeling and reminding you to go download “2 Reasons,” because the actor who fucking made “2 Reasons” in real life seems to really be enjoying “2 Reasons” in this completely fake life. If you want to give the audience a cue to simultaneously begin ignoring the movie and start playing around on their phones for a little bit, this one is as good as any.
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“Event” Episodes Where No One Is Happy To Be There
Earlier, I mentioned guest actors, and spoke pretty harshly of them. My apologies, guest actors. To make it up to you, the rest of this column will be written by John Stamos, and he will be playing the role of me. I make these amends because guest actors aren’t the worst things to take you out of TV shows. That honor goes to “event” episodes in which non-actors are given roles, and we’re supposed to be cool with it. “Suck it up,” your television says, “If it wasn’t for me, you’d be playing charades with people you pretend to like.”
The “events” I’m referring to are usually one of two things: musicians coming into town or pro wrestling events. And they’re so awkwardly crammed into the plots that you can’t help but feel your joy be driven from your body like a screeching ghost while you watch. Nothing says “No one wants to be here, especially the people on your screen” like a sitcom episode that features a rock star or a professional wrestler. For example, watch this clip of the time the band Anthrax showed up on Married With Children. But only do it if you want to see a dozen people lose their enthusiasm for the arts allllll at once.
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If you watched that and found your sense of happiness to still be alive and breathing, watch Stevie Wonder’s appearance on The Cosby Show, the kind of thing that only happens when the Devil is handling God’s day shift. And if you still have any delusions about the positive power of fiction, dash them by staring into the abyss of any pro wrestler cameo on any sitcom ever — cameos that are usually announced by characters who are suddenly into wrasslin’. This, as a wrasslin’ fan, is absurd from the ground up. You don’t just suddenly declare that there’s a wrestling show near you and that you’re into wrestling. You are into wrestling, and your family and friends spend their whole lives wishing that you’d shut the fuck up about it.
These episodes usually involve either a member of the cast and their stunt doubles clumsily recreating what a sitcom director thinks wrestling is like (like in Fuller House or The X-Files), or finding a way to work the fact that most wrestlers are seven feet wide into the plot (like in Boy Meets World or Smallville). Admittedly, the wrestlers usually seem like they’re having a better time on the shows than musicians do. But nothing clips the wings of your flight into TV wonderland faster than the harsh introduction of pro wrestling logic into an otherwise normal show. “These five friends are on a mission to find success and love in the big city, and over the years, you will fall in love with their wit and their willingness to find pleasure in the small things in life. Oh, and meet their new landlord, Big Van Vader, who is roughly the size of a Woolly Mammoth.”
Daniel is listening to “Yeah!”, as it’s the only thing that drowns out the loneliness. He is a brittle husk of a man on Twitter.
It sucks that your friends are always ruining movies for you, but you won’t need friends anymore after you get the Amazon Fire stick with Alexa voice remote.
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