#Blanche Fury film

[autumncottageattic]

Blanche Fury is a 1948 British Technicolor drama film starring Valerie Hobson, Stewart Granger and Michael Gough. It was adapted from a 1939 novel of the same title by Joseph Shearing. In Victorian era England, two schemers will stop at nothing to acquire the Fury estate, even murder. The plot is based on the Stanfield Hall slayings, an actual contemporary homicide case.

Part II

[byneddiedingo]

Barbara Stanwyck, Walter Huston, and Judith Anderson in The Furies (Anthony Mann, 1950)

Cast: Barbara Stanwyck, Walter Huston, Wendell Corey, Judith Anderson, Gilbert Roland, Thomas Gomez, Beulah Bondi, Albert Dekker, John Bromfield, Wallace Ford, Blanche Yurka. Screenplay: Charles Schnee, based on a book by Niven Busch. Cinematography: Victor Milner. Art direction: Henry Bumstead, Hans Dreier. Film editing: Archie Marshek. Music: Franz Waxman. 

The Furies takes place in a West that never was: Would any real cattleman name his ranch "The Furies"? But that's because the film aims at the mythic, and darn near succeeds. The Furies of myth were goddesses of vengeance, also known as the Eumenides, which means "the gracious ones" -- they were so terrible that humans tried to placate them by calling them by a nice name. In the film, all of the women are to some degree vengeful: Barbara Stanwyck's Vance Jeffords chafes against the notion that because she's a woman, she can't run a ranch; Judith Anderson's Flo Burnett tries to get her hooks into Vance's father and bypass Vance's claim to his estate; Beulah Bondi's Mrs. Anaheim is the real power behind her banker husband; and the most vengeful of them all, Blanche Yurka's Mother Herrera, seeks justice for the hanging of her son. For a Western, it's also awfully talky, with some lines that sound like film noir: "I don't think I like love," says Vance. "It puts a bit in my mouth." Others are obvious attempts to sidestep cliché: Vance's father, T.C. (Walter Huston), tells her she has a "dowry if you pick a man I can favor, one I can sit down at the table with and not dislodge my chow." I suspect that a lot of the dialogue, as well as a lot of the slightly overcomplicated plot, comes from its source, a novel by Niven Busch, adapted by Charles Schnee: Busch knew his way around tough dialogue, having written the screenplay for one of film noir's classics, The Postman Always Rings Twice (Tay Garnett, 1946). Anthony Mann keeps the action from overwhelming the talk and the mythologizing, greatly helped by Stanwyck and Huston (in his final film) as the sparring but inextricably bonded Jeffordses. The movie could have used a stronger love interest than Wendell Corey as Rip Darrow, the man who wants to get the better of T.C., and woos Vance as part of the plot. Corey and Stanwyck don't strike sparks; she's more in tune with Gilbert Roland as Juan Herrera, the squatter on The Furies who has been her friend since childhood -- a subplot that's in some ways more interesting than the financial struggles to get hold of the ranch. Initially a box office failure, the film has grown in stature over the years as a showcase for some of the best work of Stanwyck, Huston, and Mann. 

[jennifergarlen]

New on the blog - the very dark but compelling BLANCHE FURY (1948), starring Valerie Hobson and Stewart Granger.

[wushigod]

Donald Trump claimed his presidential election campaign had raised a record amount of money since his historic criminal conviction on Thursday, in a rambling, nearly 40-minute press conference on Friday morning that criticized everyone from the judge to the current president, Joe Biden. In a speech peppered with falsehoods and conspiracy theories that threatened bad things to come, Trump, who had declined to testify in his own defense, said: “This is a case where, if they can do this to me, they can do this to anyone,” before changing the subject to immigration. “These are bad people. These are, in many cases, I believe, sick people. When you look at our country, what’s happening, where millions and millions of people are flowing in from all parts of the world, not just South America, from Africa, from Asia, from the Middle East, and they’re coming in from jails and prisons, and they’re coming in from mental institutions and insane asylums.” Trump’s legal team embarked on a counteroffensive almost immediately after Trump became the first ex-US president and presidential candidate to be convicted of a felony. With the 2024 presidential election campaign propelled deep into uncharted territory, Todd Blanche, Trump’s attorney, went on national television to make a spirited though measured defense of his client, vowing to lodge an appeal against Thursday’s judgment. The jury in a Manhattan courtroom found Trump guilty on all 34 counts of falsifying documents related to hush money paid to an adult film actor, Stormy Daniels, shortly before the 2016 presidential poll. Appearing on NBC, Blanche insisted Trump’s defense had not been given “a fair shake” during the trial but predicted that they would be vindicated on appeal. We’re going to appeal and we’re going to win on appeal,” Blanche told NBC’s Savannah Guthrie. “That’s the goal. The goal is … to appeal quickly and hopefully be vindicated quickly.” He said the legal team had been unsurprised by the guilty verdict, adding: “We didn’t think we were going to get a fair shake in Manhattan. There’s a lot of evidence that should have gotten in that didn’t come in.” The Trump campaign team, meanwhile, tweeted that it had raised $34.8m since the verdict, which would be a single-day record for it. Trump now faces the prospect of rewriting the record books further if he gets sent to jail when the judge, Juan Merchan, holds a sentencing hearing on 11 July, four days before the Republican national convention in Milwaukee, where Trump is scheduled to be officially anointed as the party’s presidential nominee. Some analysts predict that the prospect of a custodial sentence has risen because of Trump’s repeated breaking of gag orders during the six-week trial and his condemnation of Merchant as “corrupt and conflicted” after Thursday’s verdict. But Blanche played down that possibility, pointing to Trump’s advanced age and his previous lack of a criminal record. “Under the guidelines and the rules of the court … President Trump would not face a day in prison,” he said. “Putting aside the fact he was president of the United States, the conduct that we’re talking about, he is 78, 79 years old [Trump is 77]. He’s a grandfather, a husband, a father. He should not go to prison.” The Manhattan district attorney, Alvin Bragg, who led the case against Trump and was also attacked by the former president, has yet to announce if he will request a prison sentence. With Republicans reacting in unison to the verdict with fury, speculation was rife about how the fallout might affect the presidential contest between Trump and Joe Biden, with polls showing a close race which the GOP presumptive nominee narrowly leads in several key battleground states. Writing in Politico, John Harris predicted that the newly minted image of Trump as a convicted felon among a segment of swing voters could give Biden a vital edge come November. “Trump’s only path to victory is a coalition that includes many Republicans and...

[cinenthusiast]

films watched in january 2024:

the end of summer (1961, ozu) / 1st viewing / criterion channel

pacific rim (2013, del toro) / 2nd viewing / blu-ray

“daybreak express” (1953, pennebaker) / 1st viewing / criterion channel

safe in hell (1931, wellman) / 2nd viewing / criterion channel

bottoms (2023, seligman) / 1st viewing / amazon rental

goodfellas (1990, scorsese) / no idea what viewing / 35mm, brattle theatre

after hours (1985, scorsese) / 3rd viewing / 35mm, brattle theatre

spider-man: across the spider-verse (2023, santos/thompson/powers) / 1st viewing / netflix

household saints (1993, savoca) / 1st viewing / dcp new restoration, brattle theatre

“renata” (1982, savoca) / 1st viewing / dcp new restoration, brattle theatre

“bad timing” (1982, savoca) / 1st viewing / dcp new restoration, brattle theatre

the many miracles of household saints (2024, savoca-guay) / 1st viewing / brattle theatre

levoton veri (1946, tulio) / 1st viewing / file

natural enemies (1979, kanew) / 1st viewing  fun city editions blu-ray

babe (1995, noonan) / 3rd viewing? / blu-ray

“the ducksters” (1950, jones) / ? / max (using this to rep my batch of watched looney tunes this go-around)

“circles” (1933, fischinger) / 1st viewing / youtube

“an optical poem” (1938, fischinger / 1st viewing / youtube

rituals (1977, carter) / 1st viewing / scorpion or roninflix blu-ray (can’t remember)

“gisèle kerozene” (1990, kounen), 1st viewing / museum of home video stream

bride of chucky (1998, yu) / 2nd viewing / blu-ray

all about ah-long (1989, to) / 1st viewing / file

au bonheur des dames (1930, duvivier) / 2nd viewing / file

“lines of the hand” (2015, maddin) / 1st viewing / criterion channel

forty guns (1957, fuller) / 1st viewing / criterion channel

the whole town’s talking (1935, ford) / 2nd viewing / twilight time blu-ray

jennifer’s body (2009, kusama) / 9th viewing / screening at deadbeats bar

poor things (2023, lanthimos) / 1st viewing / warwick theater

gremlins 2: the new batch (1990, dante) / 5th viewing? / blu-ray

woman of design (1962, suzuki) / 1st viewing / file

baby face (1933, green) / 2nd viewing / criterion channel

godzilla minus one (2023, yamazaki) / 1st viewing / lincoln theater

“the backrooms (found footage)” (2022, parsons) / museum of home video stream

blanche fury (1948, allegret) / 1st viewing / criterion channel

gerald’s game (2017, flanagan) / 1st viewing / Netflix

the dead zone (1983, cronenberg) / 2nd viewing / blu-ray

the informer (1935, ford) / 2nd viewing / file

anatomy of a murder (1959, Preminger) / 2nd viewing / criterion blu-ray

[twittercomfrnklin2001-blog]

The Furies

If all Westerns looked like John Ford’s or Anthony Mann’s, I think I’d be a much bigger fan of the genre. Of course, it’s almost unfair to call Mann’s THE FURIES (1950, Criterion Channel, YouTube) a Western. It’s more of an anti-Western. It features the same conflict as in most of the genre — the frontier vs. civilization — but in this case civilization is represented not by home, family and the feminine but rather by business interests, particularly banks. And as shot by Victor Milner, the wide-open spaces are more oppressive than liberating. These characters don’t need railroads and cities and farms to fence them in. They’re already confined by their own twisted passions. Walter Huston is the tyrannical, mercurial owner of a ranch called The Furies. He’s Lear on horseback. He plans to leave everything to his tough, adoring daughter (Barbara Stanwyck) as long as he can control her life, including whomever she might marry. Then he comes home from a business trip with a wealthy widow (Judith Anderson) out to take Stanwyck’s place, and the fur and the scissors fly. Charles Schnee adapted the script from a Niven Busch novel, and at the start it has the meandering quality of a lot of fiction. You can’t quite tell where the story’s going, but the characters and atmosphere are so rich it doesn’t matter. And when you get to see Huston (in his last film) and Stanwyck interact, who needs a plot. There’s a terrific score by Franz Waxman and wonderful supporting work from Anderson, Gilbert Roland, Thomas Gomez, Blanche Yurka and Beulah Bondi, who’s barely on screen five minutes yet manages to capture her character simply in the way she transfers her fan from one hand to the other. Censorship imposed a certain racism on the film. Where Stanwyck and Roland had an affair in the novel and even married, that was turned into a friendship and Roland’s unrequited love, because his character, a Mexican, couldn’t be intimate with a white woman. And then there’s Wendell Corey. He’s better than in a lot of his leading roles, but he hardly seems magnetic enough to capture Stanwyck’s passions. And the character, as written for the screen, doesn’t make a lot of sense. He uses Stanwyck at first and then suddenly falls in love with her. Nor does it help that he has a misguidedly chauvinistic proposal scene: “And don’t ask me to be your husband. If we marry, remember one thing. You’ll be my wife. Whenever you’re wrong, I’ll tell you so. If I’m ever wrong, you just keep your little mouth shut.” Would anybody ever believe he could exercise that kind of control over a Barbara Stanwyck? Or a Barbara Hale? Or even a Barbara Pepper?

[impala-dreamer]

Three A.M.

A Short Story

~Jensen comes home late from filming The Boys and cannot seem to push away the bad day.~

Jensen Ackles x Reader

1,165 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Rough Sex. Angry Jensen. 

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works  ~  Buy Me A Coffee  ~  Feedback is Gold

He kicked the door open, ripped the keys from the lock with a metallic clank that echoed through the hallway. Uncaring of the hour, he swung his right arm backwards and forced the door to close with a bang that rattled the wooden frame.

His blood was boiling, heart racing too fast for him to attempt to control.

Jensen kicked off his shoes, yanked the jacket from his shoulders, tugged away his belt, leaving everything in a pile by the front door.

The bedroom was dark as he marched through, the pounding of his bare feet muffled by the plush carpet. His hand shook around the bathroom door, but after eyeing your sleeping form on the bed, he closed it gently.

“This fucking- shit- fucking- piss- cunt day!” His voice rang through the large bathroom, bouncing off the tiles and striking him in the chest. He flipped on the lights and stared into the mirror, green eyes wide and tinged with redness, jaw clenched and neck lined by thick ropes. Every inch of him was tense and flooded with stress. He was at the breaking point.

He turned on the shower but couldn’t make himself get in. He was trembling with pent up rage; a fire burned in his gut with nowhere to go.

He peeled off his tee, balled it up and threw it against the wall. His jeans landed somewhere by the toilet and he grabbed his phone, dialing up something loud and painful. He plugged his ears with his headphones and tried to burst his eardrums.

Jensen gripped the sink, his knuckles blanching, teeth gnashing as he eyed his reflection. “Fuck you!” He spat, leaving a mess on the mirror. “Fucking piece of shit!”

The sound pounded in his ears and Jensen broke, screaming at the top of his lungs and shattering your dream.

You woke with a start, sweat breaking out over your skin. You leapt from the bed and ran to the bathroom, pulse on overdrive as worry filled your mind.

“Jensen! Are you OK? What-”

Pushing open the door, you saw him: fine, alive, unharmed, but filled in an absolute fury. Your breath caught as he turned his eyes towards you. He looked wild and unstable, and his focus turned onto you.

“Babe? What happened? You look like hell.”

His hands fell from the sink and he stalked towards you, upper lip quivering, baring his teeth. “Bad day,” he growled, reaching for your throat. “Bad week, bad fucking everything.”

His big hand closed around the back of your neck and Jensen yanked you forward, crushing your body into his. He was like a rock from head to toe, so strong lately as he channeled his energy into bulking up for the new show. He was terrifying if you stopped to think about it, but your Jensen was sweet and kind, not this angry monster who held you now in his sharp claws.

“Jen? Just try to relax, baby...”

“Relax?” His breath came out in a hiss that froze the blood in your veins. “Fucking relax? That’s it?” His fingers pulsed on your throat, nearly reaching around to the front, pressing so close to your carotid arteries that your eyes bulged. “There’s no relaxing.”

A growl ripped through him and Jensen bent to take your mouth with his. He jabbed his tongue between your lips, breaking through your shock without hesitation or care. He was on fire, hot to the touch, and greedy as he bit down hard on your bottom lip.

“Fuck, Jen…”

“You’re right,” he hissed, stepping forward and forcing you to scurry backwards. “That’s exactly… what I need…”

Your back hit the tiled wall and Jensen slammed into you, pinning your entire body. He covered you from head to toe and licked into your mouth, probing and rough. You relaxed against him, letting him have what he needed, take whatever he wanted.

“So fucking hot,” he grit, clawing at your top until the fabric ripped in his hand. He stepped back and looked down at the tear, cocking his head to the side, eyes wild with curiosity. He yanked up your collar in both hands and yanked, easily tearing a line down the front. A freakish smile tingled on his chapped lips. “Won’t need that anymore.” Every word was hard, flooded with rage and desire.

You let him pull the shirt from your arms and your bare back froze against the tiles.

Jensen dropped down to suck your left nipple between his teeth. “Mine,” he groaned, biting down hard and claiming your flesh.

“All yours, baby,” you whispered, pushing a hand through his long hair. “Always. All of me.”

Shooting back up, he rose to full height and scooped you up from behind, his left arm funneling under your right and holding your head as you swooned in his grasp. His right hand plunged between your legs, furiously working you open as he glared down from on high.

“All of it?” he asked, breath heavy on your lips.

“All.”

His fingers invaded your cunt and a mess of wetness coated them in return. You moaned and clung to his thick shoulders, grinding down on his hand but he couldn’t get inside deep enough. The elastic hem of your panties held his wrist hostage.

“Get these things off,” he ordered, canine teeth nearly tearing through the delicate flesh of your throat. “Now.”

He backed up just enough to let you wiggle free of the thin cotton, and as soon as you were naked, he attacked, strong hands lifting you but the waist and setting you down on the pedestal sink.

“Jensen!”

“Can’t wait,” he grunted, fisting his hardon in his palm. “Won’t wait.”

Tandem cries filled the room as he slammed into you, the sink putting you at the perfect height for him. He tugged at your hair, bit down hard on your shoulder, his back arched inwards as he fucked his aggression away.

You held on tight, both arms wrapped around the back of his neck, your legs tight on his trim waist.

“Fuck, baby…I’m gonna cum…” Your breath was suddenly as ragged as his and Jensen kissed you hard, forcing the orgasm to strike with another harsh snap of his hips. “Fuck!”

“Mine. All mine.” He chanted in your ear, some dark reminder for both of you. Each quick breath was another thrust until he came with a scream that scared and excited you. He bit down into the cusp of your throat, pouring every ounce of stress and anger into you. “Mine.”

“Always, baby, always.”

He helped you down with a deep kiss and then turned away, hands braced on the shower walls.

“Wanna talk about it?” you asked, watching the tension melt from his shoulders.

“Not really.” He pulled the curtain back and placed a foot into the stream. “I’ll be out in a minute,” he said gently, looking back over his shoulder with a sad smile. “I just need to wash today away.”

2022 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

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[elvisabutler]

Of course I am open to Elvis x oc!

SO. for a bit of context to this fic. there was a post made by the lovely @steph-speaks . and basic gist is that elvis is directed by a female director and the film wins awards and so does he and he's thankful and several ( read: everyone but tam and mel ) were like yeah he'd be thankful 😏😏 but @burninlovebutler was like but what if not. what if they fell in love and then when it started winning awards he forgot about her and it was sad but then they had to work on another film together! and then @headfullofpresley expounded on that and then my brain was like a dog with a toy and would not let it go. so! me and three people who know who they are helped me flesh this out (still are tbh) to the point where this was supposed to be a one shot. but this is definitely not going to be a one shot.

this tease is not the beginning but it's a part i enjoy that doesn't give too much away. also just in case anyone was wondering, the film getting made is a remake of streetcar named desire. with elvis as stanley and natalie wood as blanche.

"That's the problem, Princess. I haven't- haven't talked to her since- God, West Side Story, ya know that musical she did. And you talkin' 'bout how Elia recommended her- the hell else is that supposed to make me feel?" His chest is heaving a little in frustration, here she is in front of him looking every bit the professional he's beginning to truly realize she is and looking so put together like every starlet and every star he's ever seen. It reminds him that's not what he's gotten to enjoy. Sure he's been a star but not like she's dealt with not like Natalie's been since Rebel with James Dean. It sends another rush of fury and embarrassment through him. "I'll tell ya how. Like ya cast me out of your own amusement. Wanna see if those acting lessons she tried to give me meant anything."

"Are you- I knew you thought highly of yourself but are you joking with me right now? Why on God's Green Earth would I jeopardize my career over casting you to amuse myself. Why would I jeopardize ever getting to work in this town, with or without my father's assistance, ever again? Do you hear yourself?" Catherine can't help the way she pulls herself to her full height, not able to reach Elvis's but still managing to make herself as large as she can. Her hand moves to push him square in the chest. "I thought she would put you at ease. They didn't want me to cast her, said she had a better film to do than this. But Elia and Tennessee and myself all intervened. I got you Ms. Wood to help you. For heaven's sake, that's everything I've been doing."

"I didn't ask ya to! I-I can- I can do it m'self." He snarls, grabbing at her wrist. His stutter betraying him. "Don't- I don't n-need your pity."

[ljones41]

Gothic Melodramas II

​Below is a list of Gothic melodramas in movies and television (in chronological order:

GOTHIC MELODRAMAS II

“Blanche Fury” (1948); dir. Marc Allégret

*”Sunset Boulevard” (1950); dir. Billy Wilder

“My Cousin Rachel” (1952); dir. Henry Koster

“Written on the Wind” (1956); dir. Douglas Sirk

“The Beguiled” (1971); dir. Don Siegel

“Angels & Insects” (1995); dir. Philip Haas

“Rebecca” (1997); dir. Jim O’Brien

*I realize that “Sunset Boulevard” has been acknowledged as “film noir”, but the movie has always seemed more like a Gothic melodrama to me.

END OF PART II

[strangerobin]

Rue: Chapter 6 (Jasper Hale x OC)

Just know that, in another life where I was free of lies and deceit, I would move heaven and earth just to stay alongside you. To spend a lifetime with you. Body and soul.

Or

Stolen away just nights before their wedding, Jasper had mourned the loss of his lover, Adeline, for centuries. Until a similar face showed up one day out of the blue, just as beautiful and just as youthful.

Part 6

A plan of sorts that leaves neither parties thrilled.

She was still waiting for a sign.

On occasions, Adeline felt watched and the unease in her heart refused to subside. Something was about to happen to break this faux peace, she was sure; but just what it was she had no clue. And the more time had passed, the more on edge and paranoid she got, going so far as to snapping at poor Loreen for the smallest of things. She hated herself more than ever.

In the end, the sign she had been waiting for came in the form of flowers.

Cornflowers to be exact.

A bouquet was left in the early morning on the doorsteps of their little shared house. No one had heard the deliverer. Anakin and Teddy were away, engaging in their own businesses. Loreen was still tucked safely in her little fort of plushies and rag dolls. Adeline had merely opened the door to enjoy some fresh air and was instead met with a bouquet of cornflowers arranged with utmost care.

Your eyes are the colour of cornflowers.

A man she loved once told her. So she was reminded of.

Holding the bouquet as far away from herself as possible, she chucked the bouquet straight into the trash and went about her day as if nothing happened. As if she wasn’t bouncing her leg non-stop while watching reruns on TV, or how distracted she was, or how Loreen kept shooting worried glances at her. As if she wasn’t practically vibrating anxiety off her being.

The flowers never stopped. Every morning a fresh batch was laid on the doorsteps, Loreen even managed to steal some and displayed them in a pretty little vase in her room. Out of spite, Adeline thought. She tried to stay vigilant and stand guard at the door, but then they would only appear elsewhere around the house. She knew then that there was no running from this.

Adeline would bet good money on who her secret admirer (stalker) was. She did not remember him as a stubborn man; but from the persistence of his action she had gathered what game he was playing at. This was an open challenge issued to her, a taunt, he wouldn’t confront her upfront. No, he was patient with his schemes and would strike only when the hour was ripe; he was the predator and her the prey now. And she was so so tempted to rise to the bait. But she must keep her cool, and not loose her mind. He might loose his interest in her yet.

In a century or two. Her treacherous mind taunted mercilessly.

Oh but how wrong was she.

The next taunt came the next day in the form of a book, Frankenstein.

Specifically, the exact copy of the cheap paperback edition she had left behind in Whitehorse months ago.

In a fit of hysterics, she threw open the front door and went all the way up to the front yard and bellowed into the empty countryside. “Leave me the fuck alone you sick bastard!”

Only later did she start to question.

How did he find her? How did he manage to track her down from Whitehorse to Minnesota and now Colorado? She was confident of her concealment ability.

So then, how?

*

From a distance, Jasper watched the girl sitting at the front porch, lacing up her roller skates. The child turned her heard, seemingly to answer someone inside the house before finishing up the rest of her laces. Then in trepidation she tested water with the first few step, before gaining confidence and propelling herself forward into the open road.

In her flowy sundress and a light cardigan, seemingly not minding the alpine chill, the child spread out her arms and laughed with her head thrown back, as if she were soaring amongst the wind instead. She seemed like any other child, if it weren’t for her scent, and that luminous skin in the morning light.

Jasper casually got out of his car and leaned against it, unsubtly observing the girl. That seemed to catch the child’s attention as she eyed him suspiciously while zipping past the first time; before turning round at the end of the drive and passing by again. If she was scared then she hardly showed it. After a few back and forth, she finally slowed a few meters from Jasper and regarded him cooly.

“Who are you?” Her asked in a sing-song voice. “If you’re here to sell cable or insurance or fire resistant something, we’re not interested.”

“Ah I see so you are the Madame of the house then, little lady.” Jasper chuckled and watched as the child pouted and crossed her arms, petulant at the name. Yes, she was like one of those children too smart for their own good, sharp witted but quick to anger. And much too trusting. “Fear not, I am only a friend. Tell me, do you live here with family?”

“Half siblings.” The child corrected.

“And is not your half-sister called Adeline?”

“And you are?”

“A long time... friend.” He hesitated after a second.

“Oh?” Now her voice was laced with suspicion.

Jasper smiled charismatically and exerted an air of reassurance over the child. “Do you think you can send a message from me to her?”

The child frowned, clearly reluctant. “Couldn’t you do it yourself? If you really are her friend. She’s in a mood these days and I don't want to cross anymore than I need to.”

“I don’t think she’d like to see me for now.” Jasper shrugged nonchalantly, as if he was not in fact stalking the said person, but simply had a disagreement with her over a conversation during bar night.

She narrowed her eyes at him again.

“What’s in this for me?”

Jasper bowed his head respectfully. “Of course there will be payment on my part. I shall be forever in your debt.”

She pursed her lips and pondered on the request thoughtfully. “If I am to be messenger,” She began slowly. “I’d like a year’s worth of Ben and Jerry’s. And a year’s subscription of Netflix!” She looked so haughty then, so proud of herself for striking a deal that he had to chuckle.

“Oh little lady.” He said in between laughs, somehow adoring the sweet innocence of the child. “You drive a hard bargain don’t you? Yes of course I promise.” He put a hand over his heart and bowed. “Cross may heart and hope to die.”

That seemed to satisfy the child and she grinned cheekily at him, no doubt pleased with her little bargain of free ice cream and Netflix films.

“Here.” He produced from his pocket a single map. And handed it to the girl. She eyed it suspiciously before taking in gingerly, their hands briefly touching. If she noticed his ice cold skin then she did not make a remark.

Instead her eyes flickered back to him and she chewed on her lips thoughtfully before finally opening her mouth. “I hope... I hope whatever it is between the two of you, all will be well soon.”

Momentarily caught surprised, Jasper straightened his stance and looked to the house in the distance with longing and tenderness.

“Yes I hope so too.”

*

“Oh Lorie you’re finally back. Fun time roller skating?”

Adeline was sitting on the sofa, in a bathrobe with blankets wrapped all around herself up to her head flipping through the channels at top speed.

“I met a friend of yours down the street.” Loreen announced.

“Friend? What friend-”

“Jasper.”

She froze at the name.

“Come again?”

“Jasper was here and he wanted me to pass on a message to you.” Loreen stated as-a-matter-of-factly and handed over the old map. She scrutinised her sister; watched as her face blanched before being replaced by red hot fury.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Adeline bellowed, crumpling the map into a tight little wall. “Where is he? Is he still out there now?!”

Loreen shrugged, trying to convey the message that she was just as clueless as the other was. “I’m sure he’s only just left.”

Adeline bolted out of the doors at once.

“Jasper!” She yelled like a lunatic, and searched frantically, not giving a fig what the neighbours would think. She had other pressing matters to be concerned of.

How dare he! How dare he approached her family, especially her innocent sister! He had already shattered her little peaceful life! That she could tolerate, and she supposed to some extent, she was reaping what she had sowed years ago. But preying on her young sister like that! He had no right! Absolutely no right! How dare he!

Hidden under the shades of the woods she took off in a blur, trying to locate the man. But the faint smell she caught whiff of indicated that he had long since been gone.

Still livid, she stomped her way back to the house.

First the flowers, then the book and now this map. Jasper; yes she was finally going to acknowledge this, that he was the same man she had met all those years ago, and that yes he was a fucking vampire now! And one with no fucking sense of boundaries! His message was clear and simple.

Don’t think that you’ve been forgotten. I know where you are and I will find you, whatever it takes. Or you can come to me, on your terms. You know where to find me.

She spread the crumpled map out.

Washington.

It was a state map of fucking Washington!

Like a flame being doused with ice cold water, she finally realised her mistake all those months ago. The hybrid child she had met in the clearing… That was how he had come to know of her. There was no doubt of it now. The child must have told her coven of their meeting, and either he was part of the coven, or he was on intimate terms with them. Either way, she had damned herself that day when she had decided not to trust her instincts to stay inland. And like dominoes, a little push had unknowingly caused the whole system to collapse on its own, the shockwaves continuing to reverberate in the aftermath of the disastrous meeting.

Adeline cursed and screamed in frustration.

Stupid! Stupid! She was so stupid! What was she to do now?! Engage? And she would be falling right into his laps without a fight. Run? But for how long? He had proven himself more than capable of tracking her somehow, it would be all for naught. He had a coven; and she had only her siblings. Siblings whom never got involved with her affairs, nor did she wish to involve into the mess. And especially not her youngest.

Frustrated, she flipped the map to find an actual written message penned in impeccable cursive handwriting. Which got her blood boiling immediately.

Do you have what it takes?

Self-righteous bastard! Well she’ll show him!

Adeline was in and out of the house in a flash, clothes changed. “Addie where are you going?” Loreen was by the door, obviously concerned.

“I’m going.” Her reply was short, clipped.

“At least wait for Anakin or Teddy.”

“No Loreen. I have to go. You’ll be fine on your own right?” Adeline tried to smile to relieve the tension, but evidently the tight-lipped smile only succeeded in agitating her sister more.

“I suppose yes. But-"

“Stay safe dear. I’ll see you in a bit.”

And she was out.

She refused to address her other concerns; like what did he want by actively seeking her out, or how did he even find her when she had made sure all her tracks were concealed? What did it mean for the two of them now that the other was all along alive and well? What would it entail for either parties from here on? What would father even do should he learn of this?

All of the what ifs and hows and whys were all overshadowed by her high-strung emotions. Her action was spurred into motion and further fulled by her fury at her former lover. Really, she lacked even a concrete plan of engagement which she seemed to be forgetting repeatedly in favour of the raging anger within her.

One she had not felt in years now.

*

“Are you sure she’ll come?” Edward asked.

“I’m sure.” Was Jasper’s curt reply, even if the doubt was weighing heavily down on his heart. He was back in Forks, back with his family where there was still some semblance of safety and control.

For nights, he had sat outside of Adeline’s little house in his car, just thinking and formulating, the best ways to engage her. He could knock on her door right then and there, and no doubt she would lose her shit, and everything would be fucked. Or he could catch her attention and lure her out back to where he felt safest, and should she decide to come along with then he would engage accordingly. At that time it felt like a decent plan, but now that he was home, the plan seemed stupid. Either way seemed like it would end pretty badly. In the end, he had made his escape early, had not stayed to see Adeline’s reaction at his subtle message. For fear of rejection, for fear of being unable to bear the disappointment.

He was such a coward.

And now he watched as his brother grimaced and frowned, clearly hesitating whether to speak his mind out or not, before finally making his mind up. “It’s just… are you sure about this?”

“About what?” Jasper said feigning ignorance.

“You’re taunting her.” Edward stared him straight in the eye, somewhat sternly. “Is this any way to court the girl you like?”

“Well, says the man who stalked his then classmate in her bedroom every night.” He shot back with barb, clearly annoyed.

Edward’s face soured and immediately stalked off the other way.

Offended.

Jasper sighed and ran a hand absentmindedly through his tangled hair, emotions all over the place. He knew he was an unwelcome presence in the house lately, practically vibrating off anxiety within a mile radius and affecting anyone within. It made the others nervous, stressed even. And everyone avoided him like the plague.

Bella and Edward had taken Renesmee to their little cottage so that the little one would not be affected. Carlisle had taken to working long hour shifts at the hospital and God knows where Rose and Emmett were.

And Alice... Alice was distancing herself from him.

She had taken to avoiding him, bluntly. She was never in the same room as he was. Had stopped being affectionate like she used to. Their interactions were reduced to light pats on his shoulder, fleeting hand touches, tight-lipped smiles that never quite reached her eyes. She was clearly hurting regardless of what she proclaimed. And to make matters worse, it was fracturing the family.

Emmett’s the-devil-may-care attitude can be reassuring, but Rosalie’s disdain at him was dully noted. Bella was torn and Edward was still suspicious of Adeline but somewhat more understanding of his predicament, although apparently he had just pissed off his last comrade. Carlisle and Esme were only concerned for the two of them, no doubt wanting the best for the pair of them.

And there was nothing he could do.

Alice had made the decision for the two of them.

But it tortured him as much as it killed her. She was the light in his pitiful life for years, his beacon in the dark night. She would never forgive him for all his betrayals just as he could never forgive himself for being the one to hurt her,

And now it pained him just as much to think of Adeline, of his plan to lure her out. He had known her like the back of his own hand then. Though what an irony that felt now. The one he had meant to share his life with, ended up being the one he had known the least.

While she can be sweet and lively, her temper seemed to have a mind of its own. And her heart always dominated in any decisions she made. She was open to persuasion, but would never bend to anyone’s will by force. Would react badly and lash out if forced.

And he had forced her hand.

Adeline would come, she must. Because if she did not, what then? He could go back to Alice and begged for her to take him back or he could continue hunting Adeline down, but then what? He could not force her into anything against her will, he would not. While he was no saint, he certainly was no monster to force himself onto her. She had only need to say the words, with steel in her resolve and he would begone as she requested, forever.

And should she have changed?

It had been more one and a half century since their parting, he had changed much. How did he expect her to remain the same? How did he expect her to remain steadfast in their love? Or its lack thereof?

He was torn between being content with simple ordinariness, or pursuing something more, something all encompassing and consuming, but also elusive which might end up being a gamble for nothing.

Either required him to make a blind leap of faith, though one was certainly more perilous than the other.

"I don't... I don't know what to do." He finally admitted aloud to Edward's retreating form, watched as the man turned to look back at him with narrowed eyes. "I have the choice... I have the choice to move on like she did, or I can continue to pursue her to the ends of the world, like some psychopathic stalker vampire..."

"But you don't want to be neither." Edward sighed sympathetically.

"No."

"And yet you don't want to let her go either."

"No, I don't either."

Jasper shot his brother a bittersweet smile before lapsing into silence. It felt embarrassing to tell Edward of his inner most thoughts, but at the same time there was something cathartic in finally sharing with someone what he thought.

"If there's anything I learnt from being with Bella," Edward said after a moment of thought. "It's that every relationship requires the investment of both parties. It's useless if she doesn't reciprocate your feeling."

Jasper quirked his lips ruefully. "Alice seems to think otherwise."

"Alice can't see the hybrid's future."

"No but I told her we might be soulmates."

"Well are you?"

"I don't know... I think so."

Jasper looked up to see Edward with a smug smirk aimed at him. "Well what do we have here? The cold and calculating Major Whitlock stumped for once because he's confused what to do with his lover-"

"Edward!" He protested loudly.

Ed laughed with mirth before holding up his hands in surrender. "I digress." Then his demeanor turned serious again. "Like I said, it requires two people to be in love. A soulmate bond doesn't automatically make her fall in love with you and vice versa. At the end of the day, it's just a bond. It ties the two of you together in this life, you can feel her, might even need her. But at the end of the day, it's for the both of you to decide if the both of you want to purse a more serious relationship, no?"

Jasper looked away, not wanting to meet his brother's intense gaze.

Had he considered what she wanted?

He loved her, still. But did she want him in the same way?

"I... tell me what I should do then?"

The proposition pained him physically and mentally and Jasper closed his eyes and swallowed harshly.

But Edward only looked at him with a tenderness and pity in his eyes.

"Do what's right, brother. Don't make it a regret of yours for eternity."

[365days365movies]

January 22, 2021: Drive (Epilogue)

Definitely more like John Wick than a racing movie. So, yeah, save that opening preamble for next time, yeah? This time, though, was still AWESOME. This is certainly an action movie, but also certainly a drama, with silence and emotional development and revelations taking up the majority of screentime.

But, OK, enough navel-gazing, let’s break it down to its component parts, shall we? SPOILERS AHEAD!!

Recap

Cast and Acting

Ryan Gosling’s quiet-yet-brutal Driver is an amazing role, especially putting him in contrast with Holland March from The Nice Guys earlier this month. I’m legitimately surprised at how good he really is! I guess I always think of him as the The Notebook guy, which would appear to be a disservice. But while he undoubtedly is the best character of the film, everybody else carries their weight. Speaking of people whom I only think of in one role...WOW, Albert Brooks was awesome here as Rose! A less used but still effective performance, his brutal turns as a color put him in interesting contrast with the Driver, as both are calculating and cool-headed, hiding a vicious underbelly. They are Scorpions, but only one is truly good at playing the Frog, and that’s Rose. Carey Mulligan as a lonely mother with troubled love interests is great, as is Oscar Isaac as the criminal father forced to go into old roles. Ron Perlman as the gangster with the chip on his shoulder looking to get even; Bryan Cranston as the perennially unlucky manager dependent on other people for success...they’re all SO GOOD! The only characters that didn’t quite work for me were Cook and Blanche. And while James Biberi and Christina Hendricks did absolutely fine...I also can’t claim that they’re the best in this movie. But, then, they are bit characters, so maybe that’s a little unfair. I’ll also say, Refn (the director) has an interesting casting method; he doesn’t do auditions. Instead, he goes off of a feeling for the actor. Most members of the core cast have done interviews about this movie; check them out, they’re very interesting! Cast and Acting gets a 9/10 for me!

Plot and Writing

This film is based on a book by James Sallis, and the screenplay was written by Hossein Amini. And the plot is simple and straightforward, while the writing is concise and very to the point throughout. The film tells its story more through silence than it does through word many times. This is a great show-don’t-tell movie, and is very open to intrepretation. And not gonna lie, I love that a lot. For its simply plot and writing with hidden complexity, this one gets a 9/10 as well!

Directing and Action

10/10. The action tells a story in the best ways possible, as well as informing the audience about the characters. It’s glorious ultra-violence, me droogies, and it is shot WONDERFULLY all throughout the film. No complaints; Nicolas Winding Refn is fantastic.

Production and Art Design

As much as I LOVE the Scorpion and the Frog thing, it is pretty over the top when it comes to the Driver. Still, nothing wrong with that, let’s be honest. This category also ranks pretty high for me, although it isn’t as visually memorable as its counterparts in Atomic Blonde and John Wick. Still, 8/10 for this one, because it is all still very good.

Music and Editing

Music is used appropriately, and fairly sparingly. It actually signals certain tones in the film pretty perfectly, and its choices and usage in something I’ll have to really dive into one day. It’s retro in genre, harkening back to a time when the movie isn’t even a little bit set. And yet, it works!  Nice job, Cliff Martinez! The editing...the editing is fantastic, and credit to Matt Newman for that one. Some great cuts, and the story is effectively told with a LOT of silent moments. And yet, it NEVER drags, this movie BOOKS. So, yeah, overall a 10/10 again!

96% and it feels so goooooood!

Yeah, this one rules. Might not have been as much of a car action movie as I thought, but who cares? This movie is fantastic! Still, Mad Max Fury Road still beats it for my favorite. OK, driving movie #2. Did the critically acclaimed one; now for the popular choice. And the one that my girlfriend has weirdly been waiting for?

January 23, 2021: The Fast and the Furious (2001)

[autumncottageattic]

Blanche Fury is a 1948 British Technicolor drama film starring Valerie Hobson, Stewart Granger and Michael Gough. It was adapted from a 1939 novel of the same title by Joseph Shearing. In Victorian era England, two schemers will stop at nothing to acquire the Fury estate, even murder. The plot is based on the Stanfield Hall slayings, an actual contemporary homicide case.

[byneddiedingo]

Valerie Hobson and Stewart Granger in Blanche Fury (Marc Allégret, 1948)

Cast: Valerie Hobson, Stewart Granger, Michael Gough, Walter Fitzgerald, Maurice Denham, Sybille Bender, Allan Jeaves, Edward Lexy, Susanne Gibbs, Ernest Jay, Townsend Whitling, J.H. Roberts. Screenplay: Audrey Erskine-Lindop, Cecil McGivern, Hugh Mills, based on a novel by Joseph Shearing. Cinematography: Guy Green, Geoffrey Unsworth. Production design: John Bryan. Film editing: Jack Harris. Music: Clifton Parker. 

Timidity is fatal in moviemaking, and Blanche Fury, whose very title promises turbulent emotions, is a timid movie. It failed at the box office, and its producer, Anthony Havelock-Allan, acknowledged that it didn't turn out the way he wanted, leading to his departure from the producing company, Cineguild, and its eventual collapse. It’s a story, involving as it does an ancient curse, that demands high passion and exquisite villainy, but it gets neither. The key failure is in the protagonists, Blanche Fury (Valerie Hobson) and Philip Thorn (Stewart Granger). They should be modeled on the Macbeths, the very byword for glamorous wickedness. She is an impoverished gentlewoman, née Blanche Fuller, from the wrong side of the family. He is the manager of the country estate of the Fury family, their own kin but from the wrong side of the blanket. Thorn has been scheming to be declared the legitimate heir to the estate, hiring a lawyer to track down any evidence that his father, Adam Fury, actually married his mother. Blanche comes to the estate to serve as governess to the daughter of Laurence Fury (Michael Gough), current heir to the estate and a widower. So you guessed it: Blanche is going to marry the insipid Laurence and fall in love with the virile Thorn, and the two will scheme to get their own hands on the estate. Except that in the portrayal of their schemes, the film goes out of its way to make Blanche and Thorn look better than they are, to justify their wicked ways. Blanche is shown struggling to put up with the harshness of her previous employer, an imperious dowager, and Thorn likewise suffers the abuse and indignity of becoming essentially a servant to a household he believes he should head. Blanche and Thorn should flame, or at least smolder, with passion, but Hobson and Granger strike only the feeblest of sparks, partly because the screenplay doesn't give them enough opportunity to ignite. Much of the film seems to be derived from better costume dramas; there is, for example, a death that comes straight out of Gone With the Wind (Victor Fleming, 1939). There's also a lot of nonsense about marauding gypsies: The film's Roma are the stereotypical fortune tellers, trinket peddlers, and horse thieves. It has to be said that the movie is quite handsomely filmed in Technicolor by two eminent cinematographers, Guy Green, who did the interior scenes, and Geoffrey Unsworth, who shot the lovely exteriors in Staffordshire and Bedfordshire. If the story and the characters had the depth and color of its images, Blanche Fury might have been more than the routine costume drama it is. 

[shang-chistreamingvf]

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Au centre de l'intrigue se trouvera le premier super-héros asiatique de l'univers cinématographique, qui en réalité n'a pas de super-pouvoirs, mais il sait parfaitement se battre ! Son rôle sera joué par Simu Liu ("Space") - un acteur qui, ironiquement, il y a 5 ans, a écrit à Marvel sur Twitter qu'il serait grand temps d'ajouter un héros asiatique à l'univers cinématographique. Le film racontera l'origine de Shang-Chi et sa confrontation avec le vrai mandarin (dans "Iron Man 3", le héros est déjà apparu, puis il était un imposteur).

Remarque : Je considère que cette critique est « spoiler-lite ». Bien qu'il n'y ait pas de révélations manifestes de choses qui ne peuvent être apprises en parcourant les listes de distribution publiées ou en regardant la bande-annonce, si vous ne voulez rien savoir du film, revenez à cette critique après avoir vu le film…

Avec la fin du cycle d'Infinity War, le moment est venu pour Marvel de porter son attention sur le prochain arc de l'histoire à long terme. Alors que le but de Black Widow était principalement de régler les problèmes, Shang-Chi et la légende des dix anneaux représentent la prochaine étape. Quelques visages familiers apparaissent dans les seconds rôles mais, pour la plupart, ce film présente de nouveaux personnages, une nouvelle esthétique et une façon différente de faire les choses. Au cours de la première moitié de Shang-Chi, cela ressemble plus à un conte d'arts martiaux à l'ancienne qu'à une saga de super-héros. Malheureusement, la dernière heure du film perd une grande partie de cette originalité afin de se conformer au multivers dans lequel il se déroule.

Certains ont soutenu que Shang-Chi fait pour les cultures asiatiques ce que Black Panther a fait pour les héros de couleur. Il y a une part de vérité à cela, mais Black Panther a présenté une histoire plus forte, ce qui a donné un meilleur film dans l'ensemble. La décision de donner à Shang-Chi un film autonome (quelque chose qui est en fait au stade de la planification depuis près de deux décennies) à l'heure actuelle témoigne de l'évolution de la sensibilité de Marvel en matière de diversité. Lorsque The Avengers est arrivé à l'écran il y a à peine neuf ans, cinq des sept principaux étaient des hommes blancs (les autres étaient une femme blanche, Black Widow, et un homme noir, Nick Fury). La prochaine fois, les choses seront différentes. Des films comme Black Panther et Shang-Chi font tomber les barrières tout en proposant des histoires et des personnages auxquels tout le monde peut s'identifier.

Shang-Chi représente un certain nombre de premières (au-delà de l'évidence) : le premier film d'action pour le réalisateur d'origine hawaïenne Destin Daniel Cretton (dont l'effort précédent le plus connu était Just Mercy en 2019), le premier rôle majeur pour Simu Liu, le premier anglais -rôle linguistique pour l'acteur vétéran Tony Leung, et le premier film de super-héros pour Awkwafina. En plaçant la majeure partie de Shang-Chi dans un petit coin isolé du MCU, les cinéastes sont en mesure d'établir le film presque de manière autonome. Deux personnages secondaires qui sont déjà apparus dans des films Marvel aident à former un pont. Il y a aussi des camées et des références dans le dialogue.

Les scènes de combat comportent une forte injection d'arts martiaux. Malheureusement, ce ne sont pas des combats à la Jackie Chan, où la star prend littéralement ses morceaux (et, hélas, il n'y a pas de série de mi-crédits de mouvements ratés et de ratés de cascade). L'amélioration par ordinateur rend difficile de dire quelle part de l'athlétisme appartient aux acteurs et quelle est la part du résultat des 0 et des 1. Alors que la présence de Michelle Yeoh au casting rappelle Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, le ballet surréaliste du wi-fu a été supplanté par le e-fu. Pourtant, c'est amusant de voir des personnages se battre d'une manière différente de ce que nous obtenons généralement dans un film de super-héros. (Finalement, il y a des monstres et des explosions d'énergie, mais heureusement, ce n'est que tard dans la procédure.)

Le film commence par un prologue qui offre une rencontre mignonne entre Wenwu, avide de pouvoir (alias "The Mandarin", joué par le légendaire acteur chinois Tony Leung) et sa future épouse, Jiang Li (Fala Chen). Jiang défend sa maison contre l'invasion en battant Wenwu dans une bataille d'arts martiaux. Peu de temps après, ils se marient et ont deux enfants : Shang-Chi et sa sœur cadette, Xialing. La prochaine fois que nous rencontrons Shang-Chi (Simu Liu), il est voiturier d'hôtel à San Francisco, traînant avec sa meilleure amie, Katy (Awkwafina) et faisant de son mieux pour ne rien faire ou être quelque chose de spécial. Son temps d'anonymat s'épuise, cependant, lorsqu'un assassin (Florian Munteanu) vient l'appeler. Après une bataille épique dans un bus en fuite (facilement la scène d'action remarquable du film), Shang-Chi se rend compte que sa sœur (Meng'er Zhang), qu'il n'a pas vue depuis une décennie, est en danger. Suite à un indice sur ses allées et venues, il monte à bord d'un avion à destination de Macao avec Katy en remorque. Ce voyage mène à plus de combats, dont un sur l'échafaudage d'un gratte-ciel, et culmine dans les retrouvailles longtemps retardées de Shang-Chi avec Wenwu.

Techniquement, c'est une histoire d'origine mais on n'en a pas l'impression. La dynamique père/fils est bien réalisée et le MCU fait de son mieux en enveloppant l'antagoniste principal de nuances de gris. (Comme ce fut le cas avec Thanos, il y a plus au travail ici qu'un mégalomane en voyage de pouvoir.) Les motivations sont suffisamment complexes. La seule raison pour laquelle la fin à l'emporte-pièce et au livre est décevante, c'est parce que bon nombre des éléments précédents indiquaient quelque chose de moins prévisible.

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[macadamiasoo]

BRAD PITT : 20 ANS DE PASSION

Poster une photo pour son anniversaire est devenu un rituel. Pour ses 56 ans, j’ai finalement décidé d’écrire quelque chose et j’ai tenté de vous expliquer pourquoi Brad Pitt était si important pour moi.

La passion "Brad Pitt" est arrivée très tôt dans ma vie. J’avais 8 ans. 1999. Il y a 20 ans.

C'est fou parce que je m'en souviens comme si c'était il y a 15 secondes. Je revois tout.

J'ai des bribes de souvenirs qui me reviennent en mémoire. Je me revois dans mon salon, allogène allumé. J'ai l’impression qu’il était 23h mais vu que je devais avoir 8 ans, il ne devait même pas être 21h30. Je regardais Sept Ans au Tibet. (J’ai lu ce post à ma sœur et elle m’a confirmé qu’il était bien 22h30/23h00).

Je le revois. Blond comme les champs de blé. Sa grosse écharpe blanche, son pull noir et son visage juvénile. Touchant. Vrai.

C'est à ce moment et avec ce film que la passion Brad Pitt m'a frappée en plein cœur, en pleine âme. Comme une encre indélébile qui ne s'effacera jamais, comme une autre partie de moi, comme une évidence qui ne s'éloignera jamais... Comme une passion qui ne me quittera jamais et ne m'a jamais quittée depuis. Jamais.

C'est assez drôle parce que Brad Pitt a été révélé l'année de ma naissance. 1991. Il avait 28 ans. L'âge que j'ai actuellement. Comme si on avait toujours été liés. Depuis le début. Je vais trop loin, je sais.

Brad Pitt est beaucoup plus qu'un simple beau gosse. Beaucoup plus. Tellement plus. Brad Pitt est l'un des meilleurs acteurs de sa génération.

Beaucoup d'acteurs rêveraient d'avoir le quart de sa filmographie. Ne ce serait que deux ou trois films de sa filmographie.

Je ne mentirais pas si je vous disais que j'ai vu tous ses films. Vraiment tous.

Cette passion, admiration, cet amour a fait naître un rituel que je partage avec mon père. Un rituel que j'adore, un rituel que j'aime répéter, un rituel qui est devenu comme une évidence, un rituel que je chéris autant que je chéris Brad Pitt. On en a tellement vus. Ensemble.

Cette habitude consiste à aller voir tous les films de Brad Pitt ensemble. Alors bien sûr, c'est devenu difficile puisque j'habite désormais dans un autre pays. Pourtant, seulement trois flms ont échappé à notre rituel. Uniquement trois. Fury qui m'a laissée complètement indifférente. The Tree of life que j'ai complètement détesté. Un film d'un pédantisme sans nom. Et enfin, le dernier en date Ad Astra, que j'ai adoré. Un très bon film, si vous voulez mon avis.

Cette habitude est l'une de mes préférées sur Terre.

Encore plus incroyable lorsque l'on pense au fait que mon père n’aime pas Brad Pitt (ou plutôt, n’aimait pas). Mais vraiment pas. Je crois d’ailleurs que c’est un peu à cause de moi... Mais voilà, il vient avec moi. Uniquement pour moi. Juste pour moi. Mais aussi parce que, en tout cas je l'espère, lui aussi aime beaucoup notre petit rituel.

Il y a deux façons de réagir à un lavage de cerveau : en rejetant complètement l'objet de l’endoctrinement ou en l’assimilant. Lui l'a complètement rejeté.

Vous faire la liste des films que nous avons vu serait fastidieux. Je vous parlerai uniquement des séances qui me reviennent à l'esprit, qui me font sourire, qui me font du bien, qui m’ont marquées.

Je me souviendrai à vie du jour où on est partis voir The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Ce film m'émeut tout particulièrement. Sans raison particulière. Sans raison particulière, il me fout la chair de poule. Sans raison particulière, il me parle plus que les autres. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button est un film qui parle du temps qui passe, du temps qui était et qui ne reviendra plus. Un film qui parle des choix qui déterminent notre passé, notre présent et notre futur.

Un film tellement beau, simple. Le jeu de Brad Pitt est tellement vrai, tellement simple. Sa prestation aurait mérité un Oscar et pas seulement une nomination. Je ne sais pas comment vous expliquer à quel point Brad me rend fière dans ce rôle.

La vérité c’est que de nombreuses prestations de Brad Pitt auraient mérité un Oscar. Mais j'ai compris très vite que les Oscars ne voulaient plus rien dire.

Ce film est le tout premier qui m’a fait pleurer. Le tout premier. A 18 ans. Ça n'était jamais arrivé avant. Jamais. Pourtant, j'en ai vu des films. Je me souviens qu’un sentiment de fierté était né dans ma poitrine. Ce sentiment, je l’ai à chaque fois que je revois ce magnifique film. Un film tellement beau, authentique, puissant et simple. Un jeu tellement vrai, authentique, puissant, simple et parfaitement simple.

Alors, vous allez sûrement me dire que c'est ridicule. Que c'est ridicule de ressentir de la fierté envers quelqu'un que l'on ne connaît pas. Mais c'est comme ça, je n'y peux rien. J'ai tellement l'impression d'être rattachée à cet acteur, d'être rattachée à cet homme.

Je l'ai tellement sacralisé que parfois, j'ai l'impression que pour moi, il n'est même plus un Homme. Il a dépassé ce concept. En soi, je sais qu'il n'est qu'un Homme mais je le place au dessus des autres acteurs. Il a atteint une autre dimension. Pour moi, il est hors d'atteinte.

Cette fierté naît en moi à chaque fois que je ressens la tristesse, l'amour, la pitié, la joie, la condescendance, la puissance, la solitude qu'il transmet à travers ses personnages.

Notre petit rituel nous a aussi amené à voir des navets tels que Mr and Mrs Smith, la série des Ocean. A chaque fois que je pense à ce film, j’ai cette image qui me revient en mémoire. La première scène de Ocean 12. Rusty rentrant chez lui à Rome vêtu d’une veste en cuir. Il pose sa mallette sur la table. Il prend un verre de vin. Il regarde le livre posé sur cette même table. Il se dirige vers la chambre. Il embrasse sa femme et va dans sa salle de bain. Je ne sais même pas pourquoi je me souviens de cette scène. Ce film n'est pas terrible, c'est vrai, il est même nul. Un Brad Pitt canon qui mange dans la plupart des scènes.

Parce que oui, on ne va pas se mentir, canon, il l’est. Et pas qu’un peu. Brad Pitt, c’est un peu le top niveau sur l’échelle de la « beauté ». Brad Pitt, c’est un peu la référence. Combien de fois avez-vous entendu quelqu’un dire : ”Il se prend pour Brad Pitt, celui-là !” ?

La séance dont je me souviendrai peut-être à vie est celle de World War Z. Pas parce que j’ai adoré le film. Non pas du tout. Simplement parce que je suis allée au cinéma avec mon père et mes frères sans savoir ce que j’allais voir.

Surprise totale !

Je suis sortie de la voiture. L’affiche du film m’a sauté au visage. J’étais heureuse. Le pire c’est que je me souviens encore de l’énorme affiche que j’ai vue en sortant. Je me revois fermer la portière de la voiture et regarder cette affiche. Je m’en souviens comme si c’était hier. J’étais contente. Parfois, il en faut peu.

Mon père qui n’aime pas Brad Pitt le supporte pour moi. Uniquement pour moi. Je pense qu’on appelle ça l’amour paternel et être saoulé.

Au final, comme une sacralisation, comme une idéalisation. Je n’irais pas jusqu’à dire que Brad Pitt est parfait, tout simplement parce que je ne le connais pas personnellement. Mais ce que je peux vous dire, c’est qu’il est à part, important comme si réellement, je le connaissais alors que je sais très bien que je ne le connais pas. Vous voyez ? Si vous avez compris cette phrase, chapeau parce qu’en la relisant, je n’ai rien compris. 

Il est tellement sacré que j’ai l’impression que mon post n’est pas à la hauteur de ce que je ressens. Tout ce que je cherche à montrer c’est l’importance qu’a cet acteur pour moi. Une importance profonde mais superficielle parce que je sais très bien que je ne le connais pas et que je ne le connaîtrai jamais...

Comment vous parler de Brad Pitt sans mentionner le génialissime Seven, sans parler de l’Armée des 12 singes ? Il est Jeffrey Goines, le fils d'un Prix Nobel, interné dans un hôpital psychiatrique et comme la majorité des patients, il refuse de croire qu'il est fou. Une prestation qui lui a valu un Golden Globe.

Partager l’affiche avec Morgan Freeman. Partager l’affiche avec Bruce Willis. Ces deux films ont eu un impact significatif sur moi.

Il y a aussi Babel, Babel, Babel... Son rôle le plus sombre, le plus humain. Une mise à nu. Je me souviens que de l’éblouissement que j’ai ressenti lorsque j’ai vu ce film pour la première fois. Il est tellement vrai, tellement transparent, tellement naturel et tellement acteur que l’on ressent toutes les émotions.

La vérité c’est que Brad Pitt est un acteur incroyable.

Et tous ceux qui osent dire le contraire n’ont jamais dû regarder l’un de ses films ou alors les mauvais ou alors ils ne s’y connaissent vraiment pas en cinéma.

J’en ai juste marre d’entendre ces mêmes personnes me dire que je le trouve excellent uniquement parce que je suis fan depuis toujours et uniquement parce que je le trouve beau. Ce serait tellement mal me connaître. J’ai juste envie de leur dire : “Hello?? Vous êtes au courant que je n’ai pas 12 ans??” Comme si mon objectivité n’existait pas parce que je l’admire. Comme si l’aimer m’ôtait le droit de donner mon avis. Comme si j’étais une gosse de 12 ans. Je pense être suffisamment intelligente, suffisamment critique pour pouvoir émettre un jugement constructif. Et puis, je n’aime pas tous les films dans lesquels il a joués. Je n’ai pas à me justifier, on est d’accord mais j’en ai juste assez d’entendre ça. Inutile de spécifier que NON, je ne suis pas amoureuse de lui. Je ne le connais même pas.

Je ne vais pas vous retracer sa filmographie pendant des heures. Wikipedia le ferait mieux que moi (enfin... non, en fait !). Juste vous dire que mon admiration ne cesse de croître avec le temps.

Brad Pitt n’est pas qu’un sex symbol, Brad Pitt est beaucoup que ça. Il a été suffisamment intelligent pour savoir se détacher de cette image en acceptant des rôles où son beau visage est mis à rude épreuve.

Dans son dernière film, par exemple, Ad Astra (excellent soit disant en pensant), il y a énormément de gros plans sur son visage. Ses rides en premier plan. Décomplexé par ses 55 ans. Son jeu, ses émotions passent par son regard, par son silence, par sa voix. Dans Burn After Reading, il est même ridicule.

Et puis même, vous pensez sincèrement qu’on gagne un Golden Globe parce qu’on est juste canon ? Permettez-moi d’en douter. Le Beauty privilege existe Maia quand même.

Brad est un homme qui a plusieurs casquettes. Avec sa société de production, Plan B, il a produit des films comme Moonlight, Les infiltrés, Charlie et la chocolaterie. Trois des films qu’il a même produits ont gagné l’Oscar du meilleur film 

Pendant longtemps, il a été boudé par les Academy Awards. Il en a enfin gagné un en tant que producteur pour Twelve years of slave.

J’étais super fière et limite je n’y croyais pas. J’avais l’impression qu’un membre de ma famille venait de remporter un Oscar.

J’étais tellement heureuse pour lui.

Toutes les personnes qui me connaissent ont d’ailleurs pensé à moi.

En vrai, j’aime et admire tellement Brad Pitt que j’ai l’impression qu’il m’est impossible de vous expliquer pourquoi c’est le cas depuis toujours. Admiration indicible.

Parfois j’ai l’impression que je l’ai tellement sacralisé que si je le rencontre un jour, je tomberai dans les vapes. Cette rencontre n’arrivera, bien évidemment, jamais mais parfois, quand je l’imagine, je suis prise d’une excitation extrême. Je l’ai tellement mis sur un piédestal, c’est fou. Je le sacralise tellement que sa vie privée m’importe peu. Je le sacralise tellement qu’il est au dessus de n’importe qui.

J’aime tellement cet acteur, je l’idéalise tellement qu’à force de le voir comme un Homme pas comme les autres, j’ai fini par le voir tel qu’il est. J’ai fini par le voir comme étant William Bradley Pitt.

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Blanche Fury

Watching Marc Allegret’s BLANCHE FURY (1948, Criterion Channel, YouTube) is like eating an entire box of chocolates in one sitting. It’s a luscious wallow. Anthony Havelock-Ellis produced the film to cash in on the popularity of the Gainsboorough melodramas and provide a distraction for his wife, Valerie Hobson, who had just given birth to a child with Down’s syndrome. Her role as a poor relation hired as governess to her wealthy cousin’s motherless daughter certainly gives her a lot to work with, particularly when she’s torn between the cousin (Michael Gough, in his film debut; was he ever really that young?), who offers her security and wealth, and the groundsman (Stewart Granger), who offers her pure unbridled sex. She tries to have it both ways, with deadly results. The film has some interesting parallels to GONE WITH THE WIND (1939) in Hobson’s marriage of convenience, her grudging attraction to magnetic Granger and the presence of a female child obsessed with show jumping. There’s even a shot of Hobson in a 19th-century bonnet turning to reveal her face to the camera that’s almost identical to a similar shot of Vivien Leigh. All that’s lacking is the passion. Hobson was a beautiful, intelligent actress and does a lot of solid work here, but it’s hard to believe she’s in the grips of uncontrollable ardor. Granger is quite good, and Gough is priggish enough you’re not going to miss him when he’s gone. And the whole thing looks scrumptious in Guy Green and Geoffrey Unsworth’s Technicolor cinematography. Clifton Parker did the lush, symphonic score that pushes the whole thing into the kingdom of divine decadence.