#But Johanna is more palpable so people support her more

[ssaseaprince]

It's time for my annual controversial Hunger Games post

The fact that Gale is so villianized is such a strong testament to the fact that people will only stand with the oppressed if they find them palpable enough. If you think his anger was extreme and his actions were unnecessary, then you have no real grasp on how revolutions actually work.

[buffyspeak]

obviously there are much more obvious and physically brutal tools of oppression the capitol employs against the districts, but something i find especially cruel and sinister is how often they weaponize an illusion of choice.

the careers can train for years and choose to volunteer and have even have a significant upper hand in the games, but the indoctrination in those districts runs so deep, they seem to forget (or i guess actively reframe, if the idea that many of them express that they're bringing "pride to their district" is anything to go by") that at the end of the day, they are being sent to slaughter as much as anyone else. if the careers stopped volunteering, they wouldn't suddenly be exempt from the games. and even in the years they win, it's still only one that comes out.

& katniss notes that in district twelve, one of the few freedoms they have is to choose who they marry, but even that is... sort of murky because of how divided the district is between the seam and the merchants, with ms. everdeen giving up whatever comforts she had growing up in town to marry katniss' father because she loved him. and it seems pretty heavily implied to me that she was estranged from her family because of this, because, as far as i'm aware, we get no real mention of them. they have no other support system after katniss' father dies. so yes, anyone in twelve can choose who they marry, but we see pretty clearly that marrying across the class divide can often mean one risking their home, their family, their livelihood for a life spent in impoverishment. and that doesn't mean it wasn't a choice on ms. everdeen's part - it clearly was, and it was the radical choice to make. it just makes me wonder how many people in twelve could, theoretically, have chosen to marry someone they loved, but were not either able or willing to risk being placed in such a position.

& even more relevant to catching fire, katniss is noting this elusive freedom they have because it's one she sees being taken away from her right before her eyes. yes, katniss and peeta can "choose" to get married, and yes, it's even her idea, but it's obviously not something being done out of desire. they are desperately looking for any way to appease snow, and katniss figures it's going to happen anyway, so they might as well do it when they can make it work in their favor. what i also find notable about this scene is that when peeta agrees and then holes up in his room, clearly upset, katniss asks haymitch why he was so upset when she thought it was what he wanted. and haymitch responds that it's because he wanted it to be real. and i think that's true but sometimes gets boiled down to a surface-level reading. and to be clear, i think haymitch himself knows it's not as simple as that might make it sound! it's not just about being upset or having his feelings hurt thinking that katniss doesn't feel the same way as him and is suggesting this. he knows why she does! he gets it! it is about the fact that he is being backed into this corner, too. this is not a choice he is making for himself either, not really, same as katniss! they both agree to it under the duress of trying to figure out how to protect themselves and their loved ones. this is not a choice he WOULD make for himself, knowing (or at least believing) that katniss doesn't love him in that way, and certainly not for the reason that they're doing it. not if they and their loved ones and the people starting to rebel in the districts weren't in active, palpable danger. it twists a real desire, a genuine love, something about himself he values, and turns it into something the capitol can control and strip away and then gloss over with a shiny veneer of false choice and saying, look, you got exactly what you wanted.

and this is also very important when it comes to finnick and johanna's stories because as we know, finnick is literally sex-trafficked in the capitol under the threat of having his loved ones harmed, and it's heavily implied that johanna endured the same threat and has had all her loved ones killed for refusing. finnick, in contrast, is made to - whether by pressure from the capitol or as a coping mechanism (i suspect a mix of both) - not only endure this sexual exploitation but perform a persona that he enjoys it, that he's The Sex Symbol of Panem, that it is a Real choice he is making and not outright coercion, that he is desiring of and therefore somehow complicit in the abuses committed against him (obviously not true.) and truly, i cannot even for one moment fathom blaming either of them for the way they react to these deeply horrifying circumstances because neither of them have any actual good choices!!! two "options" are served to them, both despicable in their own rights, and they just have to do whatever they feel they can live with.

idk what the point of this is it's just something i find so uniquely sick about snow and the other powerful capitol higher-ups, because it is, of course, a form of control in its own right - after all, while cruel and horrifying, giving a public pretense of choice while making it clear privately how limited any of their options really are is, in fact, a very effective tool in the system of control he's built.

[movieswithkevin27]

The Vanishing

The Vanishing is a truly unique beast within the horror genre, which makes it a truly unique viewing experience. Detailing the kidnapping of a young woman by a sociopath, the three years of her fiance(?) trying to find her against all odds, and the eventual meet-up between her kidnapper and her fiance, George Sluizer's The Vanishing is a film that is mesmerizing from the very first frame. The title is a dead giveaway. The audience knows this girl will be kidnapped. We know she will be taken, making all of her moments with her friend all the more bittersweet. It is the last time either will see one another, yet neither know that this is the case. As their car runs out of gas and they bicker, we plead with Rex (Gene Bervoets) to not storm off to get gas from the station a few miles back. As he returns, we expect Saskia (Johanna ter Steege) to be long gone. As they stop at a rest area and she runs off into the store to use the bathroom, we expect her to be kidnapped at that point.

By the time it finally happens, the moment comes across so shockingly because we hardly even know it happened. Rex is just standing by their car waiting for her to come back from a quick trip inside. He takes a photo of the front of the mini-mart and tosses the new frisbee she just bought for him in the air a few times. He flicks it into the car, stands out of the car, and begins to get confused. Where could she be? Should she not be back by now? I mean, all she was getting was a coke and a beer? She should definitely be back by now. Then panic sets in, followed by the realization that she is gone. He pours over the picture he took to try and find her in the image, he interviews possible witnesses to find where she last was, but the audience knows it is all in vein. We knew she would be taken, but were still shocked by the timing and how it just happens off-screen without any notoriety around the moment. It just happens. Rex never suspects anything. Saskia never suspects anything. The audience is even caught off-guard, being lulled into a sense of complacency and, much like Rex, ridiculing ourselves for judging the weird man by the door and thinking that she would be kidnapped without us somehow knowing. Yet, Sluizer's does exactly that. She is there one second and, by the next, she is gone. No pomp or circumstance. No attention drawn to the moment. No clue where the man went and where he lives. She is just gone with Rex being entirely helpless.

Watching Rex's helplessness juxtaposed by the calm control of Saskia's kidnapper Raymond (Bernard-Pierre Donnadieu) is perhaps what makes the film so chilling. Its kidnapping scene and how matter-of-fact it is handled certainly rings with great truth and basis in reality, which is horrifying, but the diving into Raymond's life and mind is what truly settles The Vanishing as one of the most visceral and deeply unsettling films ever made. The fact that a man we know to have kidnapped Saskia - and will learn just how sociopathic he truly is later on - is married, wealthy enough, and has two daughters, is what makes the film so chilling. Raymond is exceedingly normal and average. There is nothing unique or spectacular about this man, he just exists. He drives to and from work everyday, he is working on another home as a bit of a personal project for himself that his wife supports, and he has fun with his family. This is not some maladjusted man who acts out via violent rape fantasies or the kidnapping of women. Instead, this is John Q. Public. A man who exists on every corner in every country of the world. Odds are, you have been in a store with a man like this. He probably passes you on the highway yesterday or was perhaps the cashier at the supermarket. He is just there and, at any moment, he could take you or somebody near you for no reason other than wanting to take somebody. It is this casual, hidden nature of this man that makes The Vanishing so real, so intimate, and so terrifying. It is a horror film based not in the supernatural, but in the true horror that exists all around us every single day. It is a film that shows witches, ghouls, and goblins, are not the ones to be feared, but rather ourselves. It is humans who are the source of horror in reality and The Vanishing is one of the few films to realize this without gore or torture. Rather, it shows the straight-forward, unemotional, and business-like approach to the kidnapping and horrific murder of a young woman that never really phased the man who carried it out and, realistically, emboldened him to do it again.

Though this delving into the mind and life of Raymond is so chilling, as previously mentioned, it is this palpable feeling that all of this is real that sells the horror of the film. It dabbles in some thematic undercurrents with the dream about two golden eggs meeting one another in the end and with the Tour de France constantly playing in the background, but otherwise, The Vanishing is simply a film that depicts this kidnapping without any fluff. Raymond is psychotic and Rex is desperate. We, too, are desperate to find out what happened to Saskia and where she was put by Raymond or why he took her in the first place. However, through his rules and hoops that he forces Rex to jump through in order to get that answer, it is clear that the film is beginning to set up a chilling decision for Rex: live with the doubt and curiosity about what happened to her or face exactly what happened to her. It is a chilling, sadistic, and terrifying decision, but one that is hard not to understand why Rex chooses as he does. It is uncertainty that will kill him eventually by stripping of his peace and comfort. This one event has stolen every dream, every love, and every bit of happiness from his life. It is the defining moment of his existence, thus to reject finding out the truth behind where this woman he loved wound up would be to sentence himself to a long, slow death. Even if Raymond will kill him, the fact that he may be able to understand what happened to her makes the risk entirely worth it to him and, tragically, the audience as well.

This is especially true considering his likely guilt. What helps to make the situation in the film so terrifying is where it happens. Rex snaps a casual photo of the front of the mini-mart to remember it by, unwittingly capturing both Saskia and Raymond in the picture. She is walking back towards him as he takes the picture, though he has no idea she is there yet. Just seconds after the photo, she goes to Raymond's car to be never seen again by anybody. They can be easily seen by anybody, but are not. Rex could even see them, but he does not. The fact that, even in public, nobody is safe and is constantly in danger is the main take away from this film with the possibility that a loved one or a stranger could be kidnapped in broad daylight with dozens of people around and not one person is wise to the situation. Instead, through a stroke of luck or, as the film suggests, fate, Raymond is able to kidnap this one woman at this rest area at this point in the day through some cosmic intervention that allows nobody to see them and for her to get into his car against her better judgment. This may be a film, but it is one that those films that is so achingly real, possible, and based in reality that it is hard not to come away incredibly horrified by what it depicts.

One of the more impressive elements in The Vanishing is how Sluizer manages to build suspense and anticipation in spite of the film tipping its hand from the very beginning. Not only is its title a dead giveaway, but Sluizer very obviously shows us Raymond preparing to kidnap any woman he can find and allows us to see Saskia fall right into his trap. Shortly after, the film begins to follow Raymond's life, making it obvious that he is the one who kidnapped Saskia. The Vanishing is not a film that is built on the anticipation and suspense of finding who kidnapped and killed Saskia. Instead, Sluizer makes our blood boil and suspense build through the fact that we know what happened. Watching this man just go through his life with a wife and two daughters puts us on edge as we know what he is truly capable of, but also for the fact that we know what he did. How can he be so normal? How can he be allowed to live such an average life? From the perspective of Rex, the tension comes in the fact that we hold out this sliver of hope. As it has been three years, we know Saskia is likely dead, but there is that small bit of hope that she may still be alive somewhere. Perhaps in the home that Raymond is building up on his own? The audience knows it is far-fetched, but holds out this little bit of hope that she will be found and she will be reunited Rex in this life.

George Sluizer's The Vanishing is a film of very casual, everyday horror. Stopped at a rest area in France with the Tour de France playing on radios all over the place, a Dutch couple split up briefly as the woman runs in to get a coke and a beer. The man, meanwhile, plays with the frisbee she just bought him. In a fit of dramatic irony, the two never know what is coming but the audience does. We know this is their final few moments together and when the woman turns to go into the store, it will be the final time the man will ever see her. He takes a picture of the rest area to remember it by, in what will become a truly hauntingly normal picture. Once she is gone, we see his panicked frenzy. We see him kick a smashed coke can on the ground, which we later learn for certain (though we expect this to be the case) that it was the one in the woman's hand when she was taken. Three years go by and, consumed by doubt and uncertainty, the man must face whatever fate she faced with this mysterious man who kidnapped her. The Vanishing is a horror film not because of how Sluizer directs it or even in what it depicts, but in how it depicts its events. It is a film so casual, so focused on the average and mundane events in life, and so relaxed, that it catches you off-guard. This is a film that is thrilling, horrifying, and terrifying, yet it shows how, right under your nose, a loved one can vanish with you being none the wiser. The Vanishing is a film that is scary because it is achingly real, entirely plausible, and happens everyday across the world. It is a horror film that derives its scares from real events, real emotions, and the pure horror of the world in which we live.

[freespeechfandom-blog]

Villain appreciation: Jo Zirimis

With Ares, Nimue, the return of Apollo, black mages, fey, etc... RtS had sadly too many villains with too few scenes of substance to really appreciate them, but I'd like to highlight a villain who stood out to me as one of the best in the series so far, and that's Johanna. She did give off major Myra déjà vu vibes, but had a lot going for her on her own, like the following five major points.

1) She’s a strong, well-crafted character. She's really intelligent and resourceful, and her sneaky observation game was on point, learning as much as she could as an acolyte. She strategizes well too, as she hid her genius long-term plan in the background while her more ambitious fellows screwed themselves over. She also uses her disadvantage to her advantage, using secret necro tricks to use the Badlands and one-up  every Pythia in history. And had a plan that not only played to her strengths, but negated the organization and numbers of her enemies, and blindsided everybody. Total badass.

“Ah, still thinking like everybody else.” Johanna clicked her tongue in disappointment. “Then how should I be thinking?” “Like a Pythia! Or, better yet, like a necromancer.” “A necro—” I stopped. “Now you’re getting it.” She sounded like a teacher with a particularly dim-witted pupil.’

2) She is fleshed out with in-depth build-up. She does get a few minus points for gloating needlessly, and basically doing the cliché 'villain monologue' in which she tells the protagonist all about her evil plan that enables her to be stopped. What's great about her though was that she has a genuine connection with the protagonist. While Ares was drummed up in previous books, she came with little build-up; but we only saw a little of Ares in really impersonal not very impactful abstract terms, while she was fleshed out, had a face-off with Cassie, and we got to know her over time. I’d love to see her to return, because her dynamic with Cassie was particularly fascinating:

‘It was acid. “You don’t know what it’s like to grow up smarter than everyone else, more talented, more powerful—just not in an accepted way. So they shun you, or if you manage to successfully hide what you can do, they condescend—God, how they did! To me, who was a thousand times better than any of them!”’

3) She is in a palpable believable opposition with the protagonist. Because damn, that quote above highlighted brilliantly that Jo is Cassie's double. She is a shadowy could-have-been-Cassie and it’s almost uncanny. They're both necromancers, something we almost didn't see at all in the series, due to how stigmatized that is, and here they are showing us two sides of the same coin. In a way, Jo embodies what Cassie could have been like, had her life unfolded differently; or at the very least showcases what Cassie would have had to deal with, had she been returned to her 'proper place' in magical society (ignoring for now that the Spartoi would have killed her the moment she was discovered).

4) She has humanizing, understandable motivations. 

“[...] the magic workers . . . like those who marginalized me, belittled me, humiliated me my whole life, because my magic was different from theirs?” “I wanted to kill myself so many times,” Jo was saying. “Dreamed about it, lusted for it. But something always stopped me. Some rage at the unfairness of it all, the knowledge that I could die, but they would still be there, that they would win."

Johanna’s story is quite heart-wrenching to read about, and it hits even harder knowing that this could have been Cassie so easily. Not only would she have been a necromancer to be shunned, but a child of a Guild/Black Circle mage and a disgraced acolyte, which is far wose. As for Jo, these exchanges really humanize her and make her motivations clear and understandable, which worked so much better than 'Grr, I'm a life-sucking god-face' imo. Does having this tragic backstory mean that Jo is relatable, or in the right? Nah, but it gives her character a far more profound weight, and I love these quotes, despite the somewhat cliché 'villain with a tragic backstory' and this is why:

5) She highlights the fascinating discourse about nature vs nurture.

“I’m bringing back a weapon, a weapon against the world that hated me from birth. Let them die—let them all die! And I will laugh in the flames!” “You’re crazy,” I said as the officer appeared in the door again, walking backward, his face incredulous. “You’re completely insane.” “If I am, it’s because they made me that way."

This highlights the ubiquitous dilemma of whether people are shaped by nature or nurutre. In this context, are people born bad, or do the circumstances of life make them so? I don't know which side of that grand debate the Cassie books support, but I'm leaning towards nurture, as they show the defects of the magical community producing its own monsters. And as comforting as it would be to imagine that Cassie would never do something like this, or never become something like this, wouldn’t she have become jaded and broken too in Jo's shoes, and given the same affection and support as Cassie, wouldn’t Johanna have become just as good? The last time I genuinely enjoyed a villain-dynamic this much was in the Dory books, with Radu, Dory and LC reflecting about the same nature vs nurture topic in relation to Drac. And damn, that's just really, really good stuff. Kudos to the villain of Johanna.