#Cinematic Influence

[fogaminghub]

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[captaingimpy]

Alien (1979) – A Timeless Classic That Defined Sci-Fi Horror - Alien Retrospective Review Part 3

Alien, directed by Ridley Scott in 1979, is a film that remains irreplaceable in the history of cinema, not just as the birth of a beloved franchise but as a foundational piece of sci-fi horror that has influenced countless works since. The DNA of this film has infiltrated so many aspects of popular culture, from its haunting aesthetic to its unique blend of suspense and terror. This is where it…

[youssefguedira]

I wish you would write a fic about irreconcilable artistic differences on a movie set between Joe and Nicky.

not really irreconciliable as in not solvable at all but you know i had fun with this

Joe squeezes his eyes shut, covering his face with both hands, and leans forward. His shoulders tremble uncontrollably. He takes a short, sharp breath, and another, and another, but he can’t quite seem to get enough into his lungs. There’s a lump in his throat and a weight in his stomach. He leans forward with a low, wounded sound and–

“Cut,” Nicky says softly. Then, because it takes Joe a second to hear him: “Joe, stop.”

Slowly, Joe raises his head. Wipes at his eyes and takes a few deep breaths to steady himself. Nicky’s already up, frowning ever so slightly as he looks at the camera. 

“What is it this time?” Joe manages. His voice is hoarse; he has to clear his throat once or twice. Nicky doesn’t look up. The clock on the nightstand reads 01.34, but Nicky’s changed it a few times over the course of the shoot. He has no clue what time it really is, only that it’s dark outside.

It’s just the two of them in the room. Nicky had wanted to keep this one small, just him and Joe and the camera. The apartment they’re in is nice, if a little empty, though Joe supposes that’s the point. They’re in the bedroom, Joe sitting cross-legged on the bed, shirtless, sheets bunched up over his lap, a phone lying on the nightstand behind him. One entire wall of the room is taken up by a floor-to-ceiling window which lets the moonlight in, though there’s a few low lights set up behind Nicky to send bars of silver light across the bed, because the natural light hadn’t quite been strong enough for the effect Nicky wanted. It’s otherworldly; it’s beautiful. 

Nicky still isn’t looking at him, so Joe says again, “What?” It comes out a little harsher than he means it to, but it gets Nicky’s attention.

Nicky runs one hand through his hair. Joe can’t see him well, not with the light behind him and the shadows in the room. “I don’t know,” Nicky says. “It’s missing something.”

Joe has worked with Nicky enough times before. It’s not that he doesn’t like working with him - they’re friends - but he can’t fucking read him, and so after the sixth take of the same scene he can’t help but take it a little personally. 

Joe reaches for the bottle of water hidden just under the bed and takes a long drink, mostly to keep himself from snapping. What time is it? “I can try again, but I can’t do this indefinitely, Nicky.”

“I know, I know,” Nicky says, fidgeting again with the camera, “it’s not you, it’s just–” 

“What else could it be?” Joe interrupts. He’s not stupid. This scene doesn’t work if he can’t get it right, which means the entire film doesn’t work if he can’t get it right. More than anything else, this one depends on him. No music, no camera movement, no dialogue, nothing but him and the camera. And he wants to do it right, he loves this project almost as much as Nicky does, but there’s a hollow feeling in his chest and he’s spent the last however-many-hours having a near-complete breakdown over and over again and it’s still not right. And Joe doesn’t know what it is he’s doing wrong.

“I don’t know,” Nicky says quietly. Now he is looking at Joe, and Joe can’t tell if he’s disappointed, or angry, or – or what. He’s perfectly expressionless, as always. 

Joe loves this job. And he wants to get this right. But it doesn’t mean it’s not one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do, and he’s tired.

“I don’t have much more left in me, Nicky,” he says, and this time he does snap. He wipes at his eyes again, can’t look at Nicky. He’s supposed to be making himself vulnerable, above all in this scene, but suddenly he can’t stand the way Nicky’s looking at him. “Pass me my hoodie.”

“Joe–”

“I can’t. I can’t keep doing this.” He kicks the sheets off and gets tangled trying to do it, grabs his hoodie when Nicky offers it, pulls it over his head in one fluid motion and gets out of there as soon as he can. Thankfully, there’s only Andy and Nile in the other room, Andy lying back on the couch with her feet up and Nile perched on the arm of it. They both look up at Joe as he enters, both look like they’re about to ask, and Joe can’t stand it, can’t be in here a second longer, can’t–

“We are done for the day, I think,” Nicky says behind him, startling Joe. He hadn’t realised Nicky was there.

Andy raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t argue. It’s already the second day of trying to shoot this scene: they’re running the risk of falling behind schedule. 

“We’ll find something else to do tomorrow,” Nicky says. “I’ll look over everything tonight. We will try this again on Monday.”

Andy and Nile look at each other. Nile shrugs. 

“Get some rest, Joe,” Nicky says. 

Joe shoves his hands in his pockets and doesn’t say a word.

–--------------------------------

He doesn’t get called in the next day at all, and he doesn’t interrogate it too closely. Takes the day off, pretty much, because they’ve only really got one scene left to film, and there’s not much more he can do for that. Nicky had wanted to leave it to the last, and Joe had agreed, at the time.

At about nine pm, someone knocks on his hotel room door, which is unusual on a day where they don’t have a night shoot to do. When he opens it, Nicky is on the other side. Joe lets him in without a word. 

“I wanted to apologise,” Nicky says, standing in the middle of the room and looking as uncomfortable as Joe’s ever seen him. “For last night. I was pushing you too hard, and I should not have done.”

Joe closes the door behind him. Nicky fidgets with the sleeve of his hoodie. 

“Sit down,” Joe says. 

Nicky does, settling himself on the edge of Joe’s bed, not quite looking him in the eye. Joe joins him, after a moment. 

“At the risk of sounding cliche,” Nicky says, “it’s not you, it’s me.”

Joe laughs, mostly because the phrase sounds so strange coming from Nicky and also because out of everything he’d thought Nicky might say, he hadn’t expected that. 

Nicky smiles slightly, too. Then he gets up and heads for the minibar. “Mind if I have a drink?”

Joe shakes his head. Nicky gets out a little bottle of wine, glances at the label, and takes a swig straight from the bottle without bothering to get a glass. 

“I can’t seem to get it right,” Nicky says. “You know I wrote almost fifteen different versions of that scene?”

The scene in the script itself is barely a page long. “No,” Joe says. 

Nicky nods. Rubs a hand over his face. “I wanted it to feel real. I thought if I could get it right, it would… help, somehow. I don’t know.”

It’s the exact same reason Joe said yes before he even read the script, when the whole thing was just an idea in Nicky’s head, when they were talking about it over drinks at Andy’s and Joe was in love with the idea almost immediately. He knew exactly why Nicky was writing it; he knows, now, exactly why it needs to be right. But at the same time – “I don’t know if that’s possible, Nicky.”

Nicky sighs. “I know.” He crosses back over to sit beside Joe again, takes another drink from the bottle. “But there is something missing, and I cannot seem to find it. And so it does not feel real. And I know this is not easy for you.”

“It’s not,” Joe says plainly. 

“But you know,” Nicky continues, “I could not have trusted anyone with this but you. If you had not said yes, I would not have done this.”

That, Joe didn’t know: he knows he’d been Nicky’s first choice, but he’d assumed that’s because they know each other well enough already. But it makes sense: the reason Nicky wrote the script is the same thing they’d bonded over. 

Even still, it’s a lot. “I don’t know if I can do it the way you want,” Joe says. 

Nicky looks up at him from where he’s been running his fingers over the label on the bottle absentmindedly. “If you want to stop, I can–”

“No,” Joe says quickly. “But I don’t think it’s ever going to be exactly the way you felt.”

Nicky looks away. “It is a lot to ask,” he says. “I know this.”

Joe doesn’t think; just reaches over and takes Nicky’s hand. “I know,” he says. “Trust me.”

Nicky takes a deep breath. Then he nods. "Okay."

[haaam-guuuurl]

I did this poll for Star Wars so I guess I gotta do it for the new Marvel stuff too

[mtonino]

Art Influences Film - Side by Side

Prisoners Exercising - Vincent Van Gogh - 1890

Mother (1926) Vsevolod Pudovkin

A Clockwork Orange (1971) Stanley Kubrick

[mifunebooty]

Bitch, why does Robert Mitchum look so fine in Pursued 1947?

[korrasamibottles]

Men claiming that St*r W*rs was made by men for men and that women "ruined it" by "invading" DOES make me laugh considering "the first film was completely nonsensical until Marcia Lucas edited it" is one of the most oft-repeated bits of franchise lore

[midnight-in-town]

what do you think of the theory that Vincent is a death god now?

Hey Anon! Well, I used to be pretty against it, but nowadays I think it all depends on what we currently know about Shinigamis, which is to say not much.

What I mean is that, in ch105, Yana revealed that Shinigamis are former humans who killed themselves...

...however, we do not know if that's the only way for a human to become a Shinigami.

Remember, Yana could hold onto some additional truth that we have yet to figure out, especially considering that since ch105, Sensei strongly hinted several times that the Shinigamis' higher ups are super sketchy. [x][x][x]

In other words, there is possibly a real gap between what Shinigamis themselves believe to be the truth whereas the actual truth is hidden by the higher-ups.

Additionally, that's just my opinion but, seeing as UT (and the possible other deserters he works with) is very anti higher-ups, I wonder if editing the records (to make dead people into BD) is not an idea he got from finding out some truths about Shinigamis, which led to his desertion. [x]

For example, maybe all Shinigamis had their records altered in order to become Shinigamis ? And if that's the case, then maybe some altered memories (read: lies) were put to their records, making them all believe that they're overworked slaves "because of suicide" when none of it is true? Just like the redemption reward is also probably a lie.

All that to say that I believe UT's BD project is a hint to a big and terrible truth that we have yet to fully grasp (take it as a rebellion towards the Shinigamis' higher-ups, on top of UT missing the dead Phantomhives) so, for now, I think it's important to be very careful about the "truth" we were told about the Shinigami Organization.

Back to Vincent: for now, I believe that he was definitely murdered.

Meaning that if suicide is really the only way for a man to become a Shinigami, then he did not become a Shinigami. However, if becoming a Shinigami is not just about suicide, but about several other factors, then it's not impossible that Vincent became a Shinigami after he died. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

In my opinion, Yana-sensei made sure not to rule out the possibility in canon, as in, she left a few hints that could be red herrings, just like they could be used to interpret that Vincent is not really "dead". Those hints are

1) ch107.5, because, even though he's supposedly dead, he wears gloves and a suit that could resemble that of a Shinigami's.

Additionally, even if the rosette power thing was just for comical effect, it's interesting that he showed up at all even though UT said he cannot be brought back as a bizarre doll.

2) the state of his body, that UT mentions in ch105.

After all, if it's burnt so badly, that means his cinematic record can't be read and thus altered to turn him into a BD, so how certain are we that they buried Vincent's body?

3) the fact that he constantly breaks the 4th wall despite "being dead" (ch107.5, short story "with Father", etc), which so far has no explanation in canon.

All of these could be nothing important, because Yana's simply playing around with us, just like they could be significant on some aspects.

The point is : the more the story goes, the less we have a reason to believe that what Sascha explained in ch105 is entirely true. Not with UT and possibly other deserters actively working against the higher-ups, without a real explanation from their side so far.

TL;DR the possibility of Vincent having become a Shinigami can't be entirely ruled out and won't be, until we have found out the entire truth about the Shinigami Organization.

Is the key to their fate really suicide ? Or are there other actions in life that will turn someone into a Shinigami post mortem? Until a deserter, UT or somebody else, tells their version of the truth, I will not trust the information we've had in canon so far about Shinigamis.

(Personally I'd rather he's truly and definitely dead, but if him becoming a Shinigami furthers the very important plot thread of the Shinigamis' higher ups being absolute assholes who need to be taken down, then I'll be okay with it.)

Sorry if it's a bit confusing, but there's no way to be sure of anything on that topic. Have a good day Anon!

[sonuscorewoodsofthewild]

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[daincrediblegg]

How did you come up with Lady Terror?

OH THAT'S A GOOD QUESTION!!! Well. The short answer is that I watched The Terror again after a few years and needed to jump that grumpy old irish man immediately because he's so sad and outcast and pathetic, so I did what I usually do, which is wedge myself as hard as possible into the canon, slap a cool nickname onto it, and that was that.

But as many of you know, I'm not into short answers. So here we go.

Honestly, the process of developing Lady Terror has been a really interesting one. As I've explained before she was initially meant to be part of a more sci-fi centric AU based loosely off of 1899 in which she is a physical manifestation of the ship, but the way she developed from there is entirely due to three factors, 1) my friend's staunch encouragement (some of whom are still around, some of whom have deactivated, alas), 2) the Gothic Literature, film theory (which was very philosophically heavy), and the women gender and sexuality classes I was taking last year and 3) my staunch love for Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre reemerging in my consciousness at the time. These elements combined really gave me a sense of purpose when thinking about the relationship dynamics that I wanted to put forward with Francis and Lady Terror because I can absolutely never in my life just throw my self-inserts in all willy nilly because I am of the firm and staunch belief, which has been reinforced by my studies of all genres, that romance has the capability to be as radical and philosophical as any other, and where Crozier is concerned, I think he has so much potential as a romantic figure to break a lot of the common conventions that proliferate the genre, and put together with a figure like Lady Terror, it just makes my brain go brrrrr in a way that a lot of pairings with him just... don't.

Because the focus of their relationship is on the complexities, horror and fear of love. These are two people who have been ostracized in different ways but recognize in each other that ostracization, but beyond that, their capability that continues to be stifled by a social order that is designed to keep them in their place. I've talked a lot about how Francis is probably my favorite to do think work on because he's both a colonized subject but he's also a colonizer and that's his big struggle throughout the series (mirrored, perhaps, only by Hickey), but Lady Terror mirrors him in a unique way in that she is a privilaged colonized subject, and the unique experience that that entails connects them in a way that he doesn't share with a lot of characters, and one that I think is fascinating to explore.

Because like god. What if you were all that but also truly loved? Not to be confused with devotion, adoration, admiration, or with simply being seen. What if you were loved with those things, but also then for your mind, your humor, your ability to reject and rebel against that social order, and still be loved in a way that was barred to you because the social order that you were born into is designed to continue to reject you on every level? What if then you found it in a place that wants you dead? What do you do with that love? Knowing and fearing that you will be rejected again or, even more horrifying, that it could be ripped away from you at any moment because, again, this place wants you dead. You could not be more equally as lucky and as damned. But then also you wonder if this small and sacred thing can do anything at all? does it have the capacity to change things? Does the reinforcement that the union brings matter at all to anyone else? And how do you cope with that? All questions that I'm hoping to pose with them. I don't have strict answers for all of those questions, of course, but perhaps some hints in certain directions. But I hope to put them through their paces in this way.

... but also. Fundamentally, at the end of the day, I did come up with Lady Terror because I want to fuck that old man so bad it makes me look stupid. But also I'm a lit major and if I don't get freaky with it I'll die. Just how it goes with me, I guess.

[cowboycannibalism]

so do people just not like fun? :(

[aberooski]

Yellowcard really did just drop their first new music in 7 years and gave me one of the most Atticus-POV stormshipping coded choruses I have ever heard

[m--rtyr]

Hmmm

Might change up the structure of my MRU.

Idk how I like the saga structure for my ideas.

I want to be able to do things like House of M and X-Men without it feeling like awkwardly shoved in.

I would need to do a little diagram to explain my current idea but idk….

[kiddokori]

trailer was baller im not even sad about no bird <-lying

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[romaneisk]

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