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checkmatein3moves · 3 years ago

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Hello! What are the RO's favorite social media platforms (and why)?

considering i've only partially thought about the specifics of popular social media in oracle (so far all i have is that the main one, scry, is like if you combined the connection aspect of linkedin, the nosy aspect of facebook, the forum aspect of reddit and like, the vapid news aspect of any tabloid) then for this i'll just do what they would like if they used social media in this time and universe

hebe: mainly on art twitter. posts her art on tumblr too but prefers the exposure of twitter. gets into her fair share of arguments over people reposting without credit and blatantly misinterpreting her favourite characters. complains about the toxic people but likes commissioning other artists to support them and deep diving into constructive criticisms. uses facebook solely to share pictures of her brother's dogs or to shade her sister. posts on instagram with windo and MC a lot, has an aesthetic theme

windo: goes on reddit but specifically the redditships/tifu/aita realm, occasionally the nosleep type subreddits. gets sucked in. sometimes posts in them so people can laugh at the stupid things he's done, e.g. TIFU by offering to hang a priceless painting for a friend. decided to improvise when i realised i didn't know what i was doing. gives advice on the relationship posts. knows there's a lot of fake posts but operates on the suspension of disbelief to connect with strangers. also has an instagram w/ a mixture of goofy, friendship and fashion posts, and a work twitter to give commentary on political articles

sailor: a finsta to scroll meme instagrams. they actually laugh out loud at some of the bad jokes they come across. doesn't have tiktok so they can sit on their high horse in disdain for it but has seen millions in the reels tab anyway. never posts or comments, just likes. they send the MC memes but not through dms or anything, literally will get up and show them irl if they find something they think they'd laugh at like a cat bringing you a dead mouse. don't really do public social media profiles because they value their privacy.

jelly: their finsta that they just post bullshit on. they have like 3 followers and all their posts are like a slew of every thought that pops into their head at 2am. their celebrity crushes, things that made them laugh for 5 mins for no reason, their take on soulmates, on fictional characters, nostalgia posts, dog pics, them listening to one direction, 5 selfies in a row of different angles, drunk posts. their public social medias are all very put together and well curated tho. pretty pics and makeup #ads on insta. eloquent linkedin. no facebook

twenty: barely uses any. dislikes seeing too many opinions that he didn't ask for. had a phase where he used to troll scammers (and sometimes just random people to be a menace) on habbo hotel. wouldn't admit it but he likes taking uquizzes. what kind of emo are u. what horror movie trope would u be. what colour would u be. 9/10 he’s not even happy about the results but he just goes :/ and moves onto the next one. has seen like 5 total tiktoks and only knows what a tiktoker is because jelly has explained it

noir: doomscrolls on various sites, mostly twitter and douban. hates these sites with a passion but continues to consume all the depressing content anyway as just one of many shitty habits. had a sadboy tumblr (because OF COURSE HE DID) in his teens that is semi-common knowledge but old enough news that it’s not really something people bring up to tease him about. black and white big gifs with text, angsty textposts, classics like that. pretends to care about his linkedin but god if it’s not the most boring thing ever to him. posts view pics on insta

honey: honestly probably normal twitter. her dn is just honey and her @ is something generic and she shares her opinions on condiments and mundane things like that. not really interested in discourse or fandom spaces and is not the most up to date in meme culture. she’s busy a lot, so she doesn’t have much time to spend online. watches those calming asmr baking videos on youtube. in her teens i think she would’ve been a fan of acoustic cover channels. had a facebook when she was younger but deactivated it because she never used it

jareth: his secret letterboxd. actually reviews movies impartially and passionately. nobody would ever guess it was him. not a mega popular account, but pretty credible. likes to take advantage of the fact he’s not taken too seriously by certain demographics, so he shares his more comprehensive opinions anonymously. gets genuinely irritated by most troll reviews. some are funny enough to let slide. he had a wattpad once but NOBODY knows nor will they ever know because he would die of embarrassment if that came out. sometimes says annoying shit on twitter but nothing too controversial or topical

ludo: it’s not really a social media but like......ebay. he can scroll ebay for hours whether he’s window shopping or actually wants to buy something. likes to look in the antique section especially. the habit started because he grew up with barely any money and used to curiously browse the kind of obscure stuff rich collectors liked to buy, but by the time he had income of his own (albeit not that much) he’d kind of convinced himself that he understood why people wanted this junk. now it’s like an addiction. he also has a twitter that’s more clued into memes and references but is still pretty mundane.

monty: her instagram is very well curated. meticulous, even, with selfies, fashion, meals, more ‘relatable’ backstage pictures, etc. it’s definitely a little too perfect but she’s proud of her aesthetic eye, and her public image isn’t fake so much as presented in a way that she gets to keep her personal things to herself. is the kind of celebrity to do instagram lives just to make her fans happy. made a youtube channel due to popular demand but doesn’t really have a clear plan for it, so it’s mostly just q&a where she talks about her favourite characters, funny set anecdotes and her met gala looks. jareth appears on it sometimes to talk about their drama greenwood creek and he suggests meme reviews and things like that

#full cast #insight #now why is this so long. idk

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honney-boy · 4 years ago

Text

Wonder (Part 1)

Rudy Pankow x Oc!Reader

gif by → @riobeth

Wonder Series Masterlist | Wonder Playlist

Chapter summary: Rudy and Nevaeh meet in person for the first time and things aren’t awkward. Yougurt cups, bananas and ice blended in a cup and maple syrup.

Full Summary and Story Concept

Warning(s): language, shenanigans, jet laggness, social media zombies, teenage girls

Words: 5k+

A/N: This is my first attempt at a Rudy fic. My first series too! But if this flops, let's pretend it never happened, okay? :) But If you guys want to read more, please do let me know. Your love and support is the encouragement I need. I got the concept from tik tok haha. Fair warning, I am handwriting out chapters with a pen and paper before converting it digitally, so updates with be spread out. THERE WILL BE GRAMMAR MISTAKES! I'm human, and Tumblr is my test run for this series. Anywho, hope you enjoy :)

taglist

One | “Social Zombies”

In Nevaeh's opinion, airports were the worst. It wasn't due to the 38,000 feet in the air flying ride or the nothingness in the sky you see your whole flight; it was the people, the airports themselves, and the limited space.

Airports were much worse than flying - especially the San Francisco International Airport. Also known as SFO Airport. The few times, literally very few times, Nevaeh has been to the airport, she had poor experiences. Now, SFO Airport is definitely smaller than LAX and not as busy - it's a nightmare. You would think with a much smaller airport, there would be fewer crowds, but no, it's like a family reunion every day but with strangers. If you bump into the wrong person, your day on the off chance will get ruined.

Along with the busy crowds, there are many places to eat. From pizza to Italian to pie, your choices are endless. That's until half or more restaurants are closed or have long lines. Nevaeh never ate airport food, so she couldn't give her opinion on it. She'll leave that to the professional reviews. She wasn't at SFO Airport to judge the food or traffic flow, not even the staff's attitude - except she already gave a flight attendant a glare. The flight attendant took a bathroom break before their next flight and griped at Nevaeh because she used the last paper towel so they couldn't dry their hands. Air drying is a thing, and it works well, she thought to herself while leaving the restroom. She was not going to let one grumpy flight attendant ruin her great mood. She was going to meet someone who she hopes is special today.

Over the past two months, Nevaeh and this person had gotten to know each other well, virtually, that is. They met online, and Nevaeh lived in San Francisco while they lived in Alaska. Countless messages, facetime calls, photos, and videos were exchanged, and a bond was formed. Who would have thought that two people could meet through a video sharing social media app and hit it off? Most people start with dating apps, meet and get to know different people, but Nevaeh met them all because a video of hers popped up on their for you page.

Nevaeh created and shared a variety of things on the app. From cooking to creating and her little hobby of disco skating. She wanted to keep her followers and supporters entertained and herself; she didn’t want to be stuck, making the same content, so she did many things. Nevaeh thought maybe one of her disco skating, videography, or cooking videos drew them in, but it was one of her mini vlogs. In the video, she showed how she would scout places before spending the day getting footage for a short montage film or scenes for a movie she is working on. Not long after the discovery, they - he sent her a message asking about a more in-depth explanation of her process, and it went up from there.

Now, after all this time of them chatting back and forth, they get to meet. Nevaeh gets to meet him.

Standing by the arrival gate, her eyes bouncing around the room at different things just to keep her mind centered and not all over the place. She wanted to pick at her nails, or hold her hands to her chest but she couldn’t hold them in place for long; she opted for playing with the white beaded bracelet he bought and sent to her in a box full of other things. It was so sweet of him; just thinking about the box she received makes her smile and her heart swell. Just last week she received a box full of thoughtful gifts. Inside were some of her favorite snacks, a movie she loved, one of his hoodies - it was the hoodie he wore the first time they facetimed. The hoodie was one of his favorites, but he had the urge to send it to her, he just wanted her to have it. And finally was the white beaded bracelet with a single aqua blue bead on it - he had the matching one with all aqua beads and one single black bead. She was having an uncreative and pretty shitty day until that box arrived on the front door step of her shared apartment.

“I wanted to surprise you, so I messaged Birdie asking her for your favorite snacks, I added the hoodie and got the two of us distance bracelets. You know, because we are long distance.” He told her later that day when they talked on the phone.

“Until you come here, or I go there,” she replied. She hasn’t stopped wearing the hoodies since and she has had the bracelet on since the moment she got it.

Nevaeh watched different people walk past her; none of them were him yet. The dirty blond mess he sported for hair shouldn't be that hard to miss, but the longer she searched, the more she doubted her assumption.

It was another couple of minutes that went by, and she didn't see him, so she pulled her phone out to see if he had sent something. Maybe he has to catch a different flight, and he forgot to tell her, or perhaps he didn't want to meet after all. Her fingers type out a message to send, but a figure stands in front of her before she hits the send button. Nevaeh could see the shadow of their body from her peripheral vision, but she did not look up, hoping they would go away - but they didn't. Sending her message, the woman was preparing to turn away until she heard the stranger's phone go off. It's just a coincidence that their phone went off a couple of seconds after I sent a message. She said to herself, then she looked up and there he was. Dirty blond hair - a little long all over, but instead of it being in his face like it always is, it was pushed back and tucked underneath a red cap. His eyes were more lovely in person. The pair ranged from a light blue to gray, depending on the day. Today they were light blue. He sported stubble across his chin and cheeks with a blond mustache above his top lip. He wore nothing flashy, just a simple red ACDC sweatshirt, cargo shorts, and a pair of vans. He looked tired, but that didn't throw off the good vibes and smile he had going on. She couldn't help but smile back. He's here in the flesh. Rudy.

"Hi," he said light-heartedly, breaking the silence.

"Hi," she echoed; the smile on her face grew some more. "Wow, you're really here in the flesh."

He chuckled, and the sound woke up the butterflies in her stomach. "Yeah, I am. And you...the pictures and videos don't do enough justice for the actual thing." His eyes scan over her, noticing the navy blue Hilfiger sweatshirt he sent to her. Nevaeh couldn't help the dust of blush that appeared on her cheek.

“Talk about me, what about you? Who knew those Snapchat filters were hiding such a god-like person.”

“Oh, stop, you’re making me blush,” he joked while bashful. No matter online or in person, Nevaeh was still able to get him flushed; it was something he didn’t want to admit, not while he was flying blind with this.

Nevaeh smiled and had a tiny giggle; the full laugh was muffled by the hand she brought up to her mouth in an attempt to hold the sound back. He could watch her smile for a while. Is that weird? “How was your flight? I hope it wasn’t too horrible.”

“It wasn’t too bad,” he admitted. “Definitely long, but nothing a pair of earbuds, music, and a couple of movies couldn’t fix.” The two quickly began walking toward the direction of baggage claim. More of Rudy just following whichever direction Nevaeh was going. She did know the airport better anyway.

“Which movies did you watch?” she asked.

“Since I had six hours to waste - Joker, 1917 and Pride & Prejudice.”

“Oh, I see you listened to my suggestions; not surprised you watched Joker again,” Rudy shrugged his shoulders with a hum. “I’m surprised you didn’t watch the Harry Potter movies.”

Rudy rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Actually, I already watched them a couple of days ago,” Nevaeh hummed as if she were to say, ‘of course’ “You can judge me all you want. I won’t pay you any mind. Just the same as I did with the guy that had the aisle seat in my row. I guess other guys find it weird that a guy decided to watch a period drama on a flight.”

“He was just jealous he didn’t think of it first. Mr. Darcy’s pinning for Miss. Bennett and the film’s overarching theme is too good not to watch.”

“That it is, who would want to miss the warnings heeded against trusting one’s first impression or prejudices?”

“Or the character arcs that grow throughout the storyline. I pity that aisle sitting man.”

“I do too,” Rudy agreed. “He missed out on a classic and had to get up to let the other person and me out to take a tinkle.” He did it again. He made her laugh genuinely. The conversation between them flowed. The small worry Nevaeh had earlier about the two of them not being able to continue the light-hearted and enjoyable nature they had over text had diminished. He seemed just the same - goofy, charismatic, charming, and caring - as he was over the phone the past month and a half. She, too, was still kind, compassionate, and sarcastic as before. Yet both of them had their own doubts about the thing they were doing; they didn’t know what it was or where it was headed, but they were willing to find out.

In the car, Nevaeh drove the route she knew from the airport to her shared apartment. Rudy sat in the passenger seat; his gaze focused out the window, watching the San Francisco scenery appear, disappear and morph as they passed by the window. The radio played while they sat in a comfortable silence - it impressed her how easily they fell into it. Wasn't it common for an uncomfortable silence? Two people who just met for the first time should struggle in an attempt to make a conversation, but not them.

To Rudy, the comfortable silence was almost expected. Granted, he did expect one of them to talk the other's ear off - he's glad neither of them was. The six-hour flight took its effect on the man, but he wasn't going to let his fatigue ruin the time they had together. He'll rest later. Spend time with her now, sleep later.

The car rolled to a stop, a red light shined on the traffic light hanging in front of them. Rudy's eyes watch a girl across the street riding down the sidewalk on a skateboard. Her stance relaxed, feet planted in a way that helped her ride easily; she was experienced, probably skated regularly. Watching her skate triggered a longing in Rudy for his board back at home. He rides on concrete and in the snow, but he was missing snowboarding the most. It was beginning to be summer, so the temperatures in Alaska were warmer. To warm for snow but warm enough for the evergreen to take over. Now he was in California, the state that was sunny all the time. The state that thrived in the summer and its soil hardly ever to never had the chilled touch of snow. His longing grew more for the chilly weather and white flakes.

The woman sitting next to him took the next couple of seconds between the light change to look at him. Catching the moment of his gaze out the window of her jeep. "I know you're probably tired from your flight. I had some ideas about the things we could do, but we don't have to do anything today." She spoke and after, glanced at the traffic light only to see it was still red.

Rudy tore his gaze from the distant image of the skater and met Nevaeh's. "I am, but if you want to do something, we can. I'm more than happy to hang out." He said.

Trying to reason, she said, "I know, but you just got off a six-hour flight."

"Nevaeh, it's fine. I'm not that burned out. Time zones are an hour apart, and seven am isn't that bad." she begins to give him a skeptical look. She heard his words but feels as if he was only saying that to make her happy. He sat by her, leaned back, and relaxed. His head sat lazily against the headrest, and the smile he was giving her was light but tiresome. She switched her gaze from him to the traffic light, which turned green, and she didn't know when. Nevaeh eased her foot off the brake and to the gas pedal. "Seriously, we can do something."

“Fine,” She says after a moment. “I won’t wear you out too much more.” Flicking her left turn signal on after checking her mirror, she merges into the lane beside her. “There’s somewhere I wanna take you - well, maybe two places, but we’re going to the apartment first.”

“Alright, sounds good to me.” Nevaeh drove them to the apartment she shared with her long term friend. Rudy followed behind her as she led the way; they only spent a few minutes there. After a short tour, a bathroom break, and dropping off a couple of suitcases later, Rudy and Nevaeh left the place. They began a walk along the San Francisco hills to the mysterious place Nevaeh had in mind.

“This place is somewhere I walk to every other day. It’s Birdie’s and my favorite place.” It was a short six to eight-minute walk. Nevaeh reassured him before briefly going into a conversation about the impressive things you see in the city. Just like Nevaeh told him, they both come up upon a corner shop with a couple of large windows to see inside and out, a brown exterior with outside tables with green umbrellas and foldable outdoor chairs. The corner shop was known as the Nasik Cafe. For a small cafe, the place was doing well. There were a handful of people inside sitting, chatting, or ordering and quite a few sitting outside.

“This place is pretty health-oriented, and like Starbucks, it has things you could make at home for free, but their stuff is great,” Nevaeh explained to the man.

"So you spend way too much on yogurt cups, fruit drinks, toast, and other food you can make at home?" She nods her head like it was evident at what he said. Rudy shook his head. "Couldn't you just spend ten dollars on a yogurt cup?"

"Oh my goodness, they don't have yogurt cups, Rudy." She shook her head in disbelief.

"Okay, so ten dollars for a banana blended with ice in a cup - still sounds ridiculous to me."

"I can't with you," She tilted her head back, but she wasn't annoyed. She found his witticism amusing. At this rate, Nevaeh should prepare to always smile all the time around him. "You should find a table out here, and I can grab us something - wait, do you want to sit out here?"

Rudy nodded, then began to scan the area but only briefly seeing a couple of empty tables. "Yeah, it's nice out, let's enjoy it. Out here is great."

"Great," she says, pleased. "I'll grab something; I wanna surprise you. I'll be back." Nevaeh turns to walk inside. The smell of strawberries, oranges, and granola invaded her nose. It wasn't a new smell to her, but a new one for the day. She would always smell fruit and granola wherever she would walk into Basik. Some days it smelt like bananas and chocolate, or honey, peanut butter, and coconut. The smells varied, but the most prominent one was the tropical smell. To her left at a table was a couple enjoying smoothies. Both cops were a little under half full. A person sat at another table, invested in their laptop. To her right, more people sat. Art adorns the walls as realism paintings along with abstract images. There was a line at the counter; no more than four people stood waiting. She took the time to look up at the big and wide wood board hanging from the ceiling. When Nevaeh told Rudy she wanted to surprise him with something, she knew what she was getting for the both of them. The colorful and fruitful acai bowls.

Nevaeh and her roommate Birdie loved acai bowls. Birdie was the one to introduce her friend to the fantastic bowls she grew to love. Now it was her turn to turn another friend onto them.

The line moved along smoothly and grew smaller by the minutes. Once Nevaeh got closer, her lips stretched into a grin as her eyes caught sight of the barista.

"Hi, what can I get you? Could I interest you in our new fall to-Vae! Hey." the blonde barista's mood brightened significantly when she realized she was taking Nevaeh's order. She leaned across the counter and grabbed hold of Nevaeh's hand, and laced their fingers together. "What are you doing here? I thought you had to pick up your friend." She said, then making finger quotations. The barista was her roommate, Birdie. Birdie was a full-time college student and full-time barista to get by. She was more than happy to talk to her friend now that she wasn't as busy - Nevaeh was the only person in line for now.

"I was - I did pick up my friend. No air quotes, we're friends."

"For now."

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes at the blonde. "He's here with me, just outside." Birdie looked past Nevaeh and out the window in search of this guy. Nevaeh looked around for him, too; she didn't get to see where he chose to sit. "He's...the one with the red cap, right there." She pointed out once she spotted him. Birdie hummed and squinted her eyes to get a better look, which was difficult with the angle he sat at.

"He looks nice...from here," Birdie leaned back, so her fingers could let go of Nevaeh's and tap the terminal screen as she put her friend's usual order in. While Birdie did that, Nevaeh nodded in agreement but kept her gaze on him. "Lemme guess, the usual?"

"Kilauea; everything but-"

"No pollen and extra honey." Birdie finished with assuredness and not a drop of doubt in her answer. Her friend smiled, her eyes looking to Birdie with amazement.

"You know me too well."

"Well, you order the same thing almost every time."

"Touche," she couldn't argue with that. When it came to her acai bowl, she liked the Kilauea - made with mango juice, granola, berries, papaya, honey, and acai - the best. "And water, of course - make that two." She stepped back to look over the menu. Rudy wasn't familiar with the place, and he didn't know what they served, so Nevaeh wanted to get him something he hopefully liked. She decided to go with something not too fancy - directing her attention back to her barista friend. She went ahead and finished her order. "And...let me get the Islander acai bowl." That one was made with hemp mylk, granola, banana, berries, cocoa shavings, and honey.

Birdie rang up the rest of the order for Nevaeh. After catching a glimpse at the total, Nevaeh reached in the little card pocket of her wallet and grabbed her card. Unbeknownst to her, while she was getting her card, Birdie took her name tag and gave her friend her employee discount - she got it for half the price.

“I know you’re an independent woman and paying for the first date, the least I could do is give you a discount. Just don’t tell Daniel.” She winked, and Nevaeh gave her a thumbs up with one hand, and with the other, she made a zipping and locking motion over her mouth before throwing the key.

Outside, Rudy sat at the table he picked out for the two of them while waiting. While Nevaeh ran inside to get their order, he observed the small San Francisco scenery around him. California weather was sunshine with fluffy clouds. Just about everyone was either in shorts, a tank, and a cut-off shirt or any other summer clothing that provided them some comfort in the blazing sun. He dressed just right for the weather, though in Alaska, it was more on the chill side, causing him to wear a sweatshirt while he left. Now that he was basking in the California weather, he took off the warm sweatshirt and left it at Nevaeh’s apartment.

There were other people outside along with him. A group of girls sat a few feet away at a table in front of him, trying not to giggle as they attempted to make a video. At another table, there were two guys, perhaps brothers. They were eating something colorful from a bowl - it looked like yogurt to Rudy - and having a conversation with one another.

Rudy shook his head at the drastic difference between the two tables. Maybe it was just him, but it was amazing how much the world - more specifically America- was wrapped up in technology and social media. Sure the brothers at the one table had digital watches that told them the time and lit up, catching their attention with a vibrate when a text or notification went to their phone. But at least they could carry on a conversation without having their phone in their hands. On the other hand, those girls haven’t put their phones down longer than a few seconds. After those seconds, they tap away or show the other something they thought was worthy enough to gauge a reaction out of them.

Rudy wasn't one to judge. He didn't have much right to because while watching them and waiting for Nevaeh, he had the urge to pull out his phone. It was almost like a habit, but he chooses not to feed the temptation. He wanted to enjoy the day with Nevaeh; notice the burn on his skin from the sun, get to know her, have fun, pick up on little cues she has, and find out what he likes the most about her. And though it was kind of ironic that the two of them met through social media, he hopes Nevaeh is not one of those social zombies. Then this trip would be a waste of time and effort.

Ruby pulled his sunglasses down due to the sun starting to bother his eyes. Then he also wanted to cover his eyes and focus on something else while he waited. A minute later, Nevaeh walked out of the cafe's door backward with her back pushing the door open. In her hands, she had what she ordered; he wondered what she got. Rudy briskly stood up out of his seat to help her out.

"Hey, let me help you out," he walks around the table towards her, but she only nods him off.

"I got it, you sit."

"You have all the food and drinks in your hands; it's the least I can do." he stood off to the side, not interfering but reading despite what she said. He watches her struggle a bit and almost drops the stuff. Rudy immediately reached out, but Nevaeh had already saved herself and looked at him with a smile.

"I got it, Rudy. I was just pulling your leg." He picked up on the playfulness in her eyes, which made him pull his lips into a smile matching hers; her smile is definitely contagious.

“Alright, alright,” he raised his hands, backing away and then taking his seat. Nevaeh took her seat across from him, sat everything down before passing him the items she got him. “What’d you get us?”

“Well, I don’t know if you have had this before, but it’s my go-to thing to get here. It’s an acai bowl,” Nevaeh’s eyes caught his confused expression before he tried to cover it up with an understanding. She laughed softly and explained further. “It’s like a smoothie bowl with other things in it.”

“Smoothie bowl…” he murmured more to himself, but she still heard it.

Shaking her head, she continued. “Acai palm is the main ingredient along with bananas and granola, but you can add other fruits or peanut butter and syrups. Or take things off.”

“Like maple syrup?” he asked, looking at the acai bowl she got him.

Her face begins to twist in disgust until she covers it with a shrug and looks down at her bowl, ready to dig in. “Uh, I guess if that’s what you want, then yeah.” She answered, and Rudy nodded his head and grabbed his spoon to take a taste. Before Nevaeh tasted her own, she watched Rudy, waiting for his reaction. He took a bite, letting the flavor invade his taste buds.

“Wow, this is good,” He says after swallowing. He glanced up, catching Nevaeh already looking at him. She quickly looked away and stirred her bowl.

“I’m glad you like it; it’s my second favorite one,” she peeked back up, and Rudy was still looking at her. Laughing softly to herself, then shaking her head, she takes a bite of her own, almost moaning at the taste. “I’m surprised you haven’t had one before.”

“ I have wanted to try one, but never really went with actually going out to get one.”

“Well, maybe now you will get them more often,” She says but stops herself before taking another bite. “Wait...you aren’t allergic to any fruit, are you? Or granola?”

He lifted a brow while getting another scoop. “Oh, only bananas,” He replies. Nevaeh watches him as he lifts the spoon to his mouth and takes another bite that includes bananas before she could reach across the table and stop him in time. “What?” he looked at her. Her eyes were wide with shock and fear, her mouth opening to say something but closed when nothing came out. “Is there something wrong?”

Nodding her head slowly, she sat down her spoon and reached for her phone in her pocket just in case. "You ate a banana, and you just told me you were allergic to them." Nevaeh wanted to yell at him for being so careless, but that would mean she was too for not asking before ordering something random for him. She pretended to remain calm but was internally panicking.

"I actually eat them all the time," he held back the smile easing its way into his features. "I eat them quite often. They're a great source of potassium and vitamin C."

"So you aren't allergic to bananas?" she noted, and Rudy shook his head. His mouth broke out into the smile he managed to hold back for a few seconds. Nevaeh relaxed a bit, her shoulders dropping as she was no longer tense. "You're an asshole, you know that, right?" Rudy gasped softly, a hand placed on his chest as he looked at her, offended at her comment.

"What, me, an asshole? That can't be right, I'm really nice," he said and made Nevaeh huffed. "What do you not believe me?"

The woman shrugged, the smile still on her face when she looked down at her food. "Well, you did play a mean joke just now; I thought I almost killed you." She reminded him and picked at her bowl.

"I wanted to see how caring you were, and you passed the test. Now you love me, don't you?"

"You wish," she said, taking a bite then pointing at him with her spoon. "We're going on a road trip together, let's see if I survive that, then I'll let you know if I like you enough to be your friend or jump out of a moving car because you're an annoying little shit."

Rudy raised his eyebrows, smirking at her now. "Me being an annoying little...alright. Let's make a deal," he starts; Nevaeh gestures for him to continue. "If you survive this road trip, meaning - if you have a great time - I get to take you to my home town in Alaska. Ah, ah. I'm not finished." he held his finger up to stop her from making a comment. She rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair, attempting to hide a simple, but you could see the amusement on her face. "If you don't have a great time, I'll do whatever you want."

"So, If I understand right, If you win, you get to take me to Alaska - assuming I haven't been there already,"

“Wait, you’ve been to Alaska?” Nevaeh held her finger up, echoing his movements moments before.

“If you win, you take me to Alaska, and if I win, you do whatever I want, correct?”

“Yeah, as long as it’s not too inappropriate or impossible,” He says, already finished with his acai bowl, which Nevaeh didn’t remember seeing him eat the rest. It didn’t matter when he ate it, she didn’t care, but that was quick. Looking down at her own, she wasn’t more than halfway done. “So, so we have a deal?”

Nevaeh looked up from her food, meeting his ocean-like eyes. The pair were becoming more familiar over the past few weeks from countless photos and videos the two have shared over Snapchat. Messages over text and facetime calls. They got to know each other digitally, and now they have to learn more in person.

“We have a deal.” She says, and Rudy sticks his hand out, which she gladly took. They shook hands. While doing so, Rudy thought of a million possibilities to get the woman across from him to a great time and not just so he could take her to Alaska, his home. He found her intriguing, and he wants to take the time to get to know her better and maybe have a solid standing friendship at the end of it all. If the cosmos had a say, perhaps something more would blossom.

➣ End Note:

So, I honestly don’t know how the next few or future chapters will go but hopefully they turn out well. Here are the Revaeh interactions we all needed and plenty more to come so just you wait. ;)

AGAIN IF YOU WANT ME TO CONTINUE THE SERIES I WILL, JUST LET ME KNOW.

Wonder Taglist:

@Scooby6, @ifilwtmfc, @rudypankowswife, @themaddies-obx

[If your username is bold and slashed out it means i can’t tag you. If you want to be added to the taglist add yourself here! If you no longer want to be on it let me know. :) ]

#rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader #rudy pankow x oc #rudy pankow series #rudy pankow fanfiction #wonder series #rudy pankow au #Outer Banks #outer banks netflix #roadtrip story #tik tok dating

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betterdaysareatoenailaway · 4 years ago

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RANDOM REVIEW #2: ANY GIVEN SUNDAY (1999)

“This game has got to be about more than winning. You’re part of something.” Any Given Sunday (1999), directed by Oliver Stone and featuring Jamie Foxx, Dennis Quaid, Cameron Diaz, Al Pacino, LL Cool J, James Woods, and Matthew Modine, is my favourite sports movie of all time. Of all time.

I’m not betraying my favourite sport by saying this. The Mighty Ducks is a kid’s movie. It’s okay, but it’s not a timeless classic. I don’t like the Slap Shot series, Sudden Death is fun but silly, and the Goon movies were a missed opportunity. The only truly good scene in Goon is the diner scene where Liev Schreiber tells Seann William Scott: “Don’t go trying to be a hockey player. You’ll get your heart ripped out.”

Such is the sad circumstance of the hockey enforcer. They all want to play, not just fight. Here’s a link to a video in which the most feared fighter in the history of the NHL, Bob Probert, explains that he wanted to be “an offensive threat...like Bobby Orr,” not a fighter: https://youtu.be/4sbxejbMH4g?t=118 Heartbreaking. But not unusual.

Donald Brashear, Marty McSorley, Tie Domi, Stu “The Grim Reaper” Grimson, Frazer McLaren: they all had hockey skills. But they were told they had to fight to remain on the roster, so they fought. As Schreiber says in the film: “You know they just want you to bleed, right?” If the players don’t bleed, they don’t get to stay on the team. So they fight, and they pay dearly for it later. Many former fighters have CTE or other head injuries that make day-to-day life difficult. The makers of Goon should have taken that scene and run with it. I was so disappointed they didn’t, especially given what happened right around the time the film came out, with the tragic suicides of Wade Belak, Derek Boogaard, and Rick Rypien, all enforcers, all dead in a single summer. So Hollywood hasn’t even made a good hockey movie, let alone a great one. Baseball has a shitload of good films, probably because the slower pace of play makes it easier to film. Moneyball has a terrific home run scene, Rookie of the Year does too. Angels in the Outfield was a big favourite of mine when I was a kid, plus all the Major League films, and Bull Durham.

Football has two good movies: The Program (1993) and Rudy (1993).

And football has one masterpiece. The one I am writing about today.

A young Oliver Stone trying not to die in Vietnam. ^ Now, I know Stone is laughed at these days, given his nutty conspiracy theories and shitty behaviour and the marked decline in the quality of his films (although 2012’s Savages was underrated). I know Stone is about as subtle as a sledgehammer, but do you want a football movie to be subtle? Baseball, sure. It’s a game of fine distinctions, but football? Football is war. And war is about steamrolling the enemy, distinctions be damned, which is why Any Given Sunday is such an amazing sports film. I love the way it shows the dark side of football. In fact, the film is so dark that the NFL withdrew their support and cooperation, forcing Stone to create a fictitious league and team to portray what he wanted to portray.

This is not to say the movie is fresh or original. Quite the opposite. Any Given Sunday has every single sports film cliché you can think of. But precisely because it tries to stuff every single cliché into its runtime, the finished product is not a cliched mess so much as a rich tapestry, a dense cinema verite depiction of the dizzying highs and depressing lows of a professional sports team as it wins, loses, parties, and staggers its way through a difficult season. Cliché #1: The aging quarterback playing his final year, trying to win one last championship. (Dennis Quaid)

Sample dialog: Dennis Quaid (lying in a hospital bed severely injured): Don’t give up on me coach. Al Pacino: You’re like a son to me. I’ll never give up on you. ^ I know this sounds awful. But it’s actually fuckin’ great. Cliché #2: The arrogant upstart new player who likes hip hop and won’t respect the old regime. (Jamie Foxx)

Cliché #3: The walking wounded veteran who could die if he gets hit one more time. Coincidentally, he needs just one more tackle to make his million-dollar bonus for the season. (Lawrence Taylor)

Cliché #4: The female executive in a man’s world who must assert herself aggressively in order to win the grudging respect of her knuckle-dragging male colleagues (Cameron Diaz). Diaz is fantastic in the role, though she should have had more screen time, given that the main conflict in the film is very much about the new generation, as represented by her and Jamie Foxx, trying to replace the old generation, represented by Al Pacino, Dennis Quaid, Jim Brown, and Lawrence Taylor. Some people think Diaz’s character is too calculating, but here’s the thing: she’s right. Too many sports GMs shell out millions for the player an individual used to be, not the player he presently is. “I am not resigning a 39-year old QB, no matter how good he was,” she tells Pacino’s coach character, and you know what? She’s right. The Leafs’ David Clarkson signing is proof positive of the perils of signing a player based on past performance, not current capability. Diaz’s character is the living embodiment of the question: do you want to win, or do you want to be loyal? Cuz sometimes you can’t do both.

Cliché #5: The team doctor who won’t sacrifice his ethics for the good of the team (Matthew Modine).

Cliché #6: The team doctor who will sacrifice his ethics for the good of the team (James Woods)

Cliché #7: The grizzled, thrice-divorced coach who has sacrificed everything for his football team, to the detriment of his social and familial life, who must give a stirring speech at some point in the film (Al Pacino…who goes out there and gives the all-time greatest sports movie “we must win this game” speech)

Cliché #8: The assistant or associate coach who takes a parental interest in his players, playing the good cop to the head coach’s bad cop (former NFL star Jim Brown).

Best quote: “Who wants to be thinking about blitzes and crossblocks when you’re holding your grandkids in your arms? That’s why I wanna coach high school. Kids don’t know nothing. They just wanna play.”

Cliché #9: The player who can’t stop doing drugs (L.L. Cool J).

Okay, so the first thing that needs to be talked about is Al Pacino’s legendary locker room speech. Now, it’s the coach’s job to rile up and inspire the players. But eloquence alone won’t do it. If you use certain big words, you lose them (remember Brian Burke being endlessly mocked by the Toronto media for using the word “truculent?”). The coach must deliver the message in a language the players understand, while still making victory sound lofty and aspirational. This is not an easy thing to accomplish. One of my favourite inspirational lines was spoken by “Iron” Mike Keenan to the New York Rangers before Game 7 against the Vancouver Canucks in 1994. “Win tonight, and we’ll walk together forever.” Oooh that’s gorgeous. But Pacino’s speech is right up there with it.

“You know, when you get old in life…things get taken from you. That’s parta life. But you only learn that when you start losin’ stuff. You find out…life’s this game of inches. So’s football. In either game – life or football – the margin for error is so small. I mean…one half a step too late or too early and you don’t quite make it…one half second too slow, too fast, you don’t quite catch it. The inches we need are everywhere around us. They’re in every break of the game, every minute, every second. On this team, we fight for that inch. We claw with our fingernails for that inch. Because we know when we add up all those inches that’s gonna make the fuckin difference between winnin’ and losin’! Between livin’ and dyin’!” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m_iKg7nutNY Somehow, against all odds, Any Given Sunday succeeds. It is the Cinderella run of sports movies. You root for the film as you watch it. The dressing room scenes are incredible…the Black players listen to the newest hip hop while a trio of lunkhead white dudes headbang and scream “Hetfield is God.” There is a shower scene where a linebacker, tired of being teased about the size of his penis, tosses his pet alligator into the showers where it terrorizes his tormentors. There is a scene where a halfback has horrible diarrhea, but he’s hooked up to an IV so the doctor (Matthew Modine) has to follow him into the toilet cubicle, crinkling his nose as the player evacuates his bowels. There is a scene where someone loses an eye (the only scene in the film where Stone’s over-the-top approach misses the mark). There are scenes that discuss concussions (which is why the NFL refused to cooperate for the film), where Lawrence Taylor has to sign a waiver absolving the team of responsibility if he is hurt or paralyzed or killed. I wonder how purists and old school football fans reacted to the news that Oliver Stone was making a football film. If they even knew who he was (not totally unlikely…Stone made a string of jingoistic war movies in the 1980s) they probably thought the heavy hands of Oliver would ruin the film, take the poetry out of every play. But the actual football is filmed perfectly. The camera gets nice and low for the tackles. It flies the arcs of perfect spiral passes. It shows the chaos of a defensive line barreling down the field. When Al Pacino asked quarterback Dan Marino (fresh off his own Hollywood experience acting in Ace Ventura: Pet Detective) what it was like to be an NFL QB, Marino said: “Imagine standing on a highway with traffic roaring at you while trying to read Hamlet.” A great explanation. Shoulda made the movie. So the football itself is fabulously done. Much better than what Cameron Crowe did in the few football scenes in Jerry Maguire. The Program had some great football, as did Rudy, but neither come close to the heights of Any Given Sunday. In one of the film’s best scenes, Jamie Foxx insists that his white coaches have routinely placed him in situations where he was doomed to fail or prone to injury, and we believe him because white coaches have been doing that to Black players for decades. Quarterback Doug Williams, who led his Washington Redskins team to a Superbowl victory in 1987, was frequently referred to by even liberal media outlets as a “Black quarterback,” instead of just “quarterback,” as if his skin colour necessitated a qualification. Even now, in 2021, the majority of quarterbacks are white, although the gap is gradually closing. The 2020 season saw the highest number of starting Black quarterbacks, with 10 out of a possible 32. Quarterback is the most cerebral position on the field, and for a long time there was a racist belief that Black men couldn’t do the job. Foxx’s character is a composite of many of the different Black quarterbacks who came of age in the 1990s, fighting for playing time against white QBs beloved by their fan base, fawned over in hagiographic Sports Illustrated profiles, and protected by the good ol’ boys club of team executives and coaching staff. Foxx’s character isn’t demoted because he can’t play the game. He wins several crucial games for his team en route to the playoffs. He’s demoted because he listens to hip hop in the dressing room, because he recorded a rap song and shot a video for it, and because he’s cocky. Yes, the scene where he asks out Cameron Diaz is sexist, as if her power only comes from her sexuality, not her intelligence and business acumen, but it’s meant to show how overly confident Foxx is, not that he’s a sexist prick. Any Given Sunday isn’t a single issue film. It’s basically an omni-protest piece. It gleefully shows football’s dark side, and there is no director better than Oliver Stone for muck-raking. He’s in full-on investigative journalist mode in Any Given Sunday, showing how and why players play through serious brain injuries. How because they are given opiates, often leading to debilitating addictions (this happens in all contact sports...Colorado Avalanche player Marek Svatos overdosed on heroin a few years after retiring from injuries). As to why, Stone gives two reasons. One, team doctors are paid by the team, not the players, therefore their decisions will benefit the team, not the players. And two, the players themselves are encouraged to underreport injuries and play through them because stats are incentivized. James Woods unethical doctor argues with Modine’s idealistic one because an MRI the latter called for a player to have costs the team $20k. But the player in question, Lawrence Taylor, plays anyway because his contract is stat incentivized and if he makes on more tackle he gets a million dollars. Incentivizing stats leads to players playing hurt. And although I loathe this term, a lazy go-to for film critics, Stone really does give an unflinching account of how this shit happens and why. When Williams is inevitably hurt and lying prone on the field, he woozily warns the paramedics who are placing him on a stretcher to “be careful…I’m worth a million dollars.” It’s tragic, yet you’re happy for him. The film really makes you care about these guys. Thanks to the smartly written script, the viewer knows that Williams has four kids, and you’re pleased he made his bonus because, in all likelihood, after he retires, his injuries will prevent him from any kind of gainful employment (naturally, they give the TV analyst jobs to retired white players, unless Williams can somehow land the coveted token Black guy gig). Stone is not above fan service, a populist at heart, and he stuffs the film with former and then-current NFL players, a miraculous stunt given the fact that the NFL revoked their cooperation. Personally, I think this was a good thing because it meant Stone didn’t have to compromise (the league wanted editorial say on all issues pertaining to the league…meaning they would have cut the best storyline, which is the playing hurt one). It also meant that they had to rename the team and the league. While I’m sure this took away from the realism for some fans, I’m cool with it. It also allowed the moviemakers to name the team the Sharks, a perfect name for this roving band of predatory capitalist sports executives. In another example of fan service, the call-girl Pacino’s quintessential lonely workaholic character rents a girlfriend experience from is none other than Elizabeth Berkley of Showgirls, who had been unfairly blacklisted after the titular Verhoven/Esterhaz venture, a movie my wife showed me one day while I was dopesick, which I became so transfixed and mesmerized by that I forgot I was. As mentioned above, the only misstep in the film is one of the offshoots of the Playing Hurt arc, where a player loses an eye on the field. Not because he gets poked, but because he gets hit so hard his eye simply falls out. A medic runs onto the field and puts the white globe on ice. Stone cast a player with a glass eye in order to achieve this effect. No CGI! Still, the scene is unconvincing, a tad too over-the-top. But this is Oliver Stone. At least Any Given Sunday’s sole over-the-top moment is a throwaway scene lasting all of thirty seconds. It easily could have been a secondary plot-line in which government officials try to sneak a Cuban football prodigy out of Castro’s communist stronghold but the player is brutally murdered the morning the officials arrive at his apartment to escort him to the private plane. Or else the team GM is revealed to be a massive international cocaine dealer. Or the tight end is one half of a serial killer couple. The film follows its own advice, focusing more on the players growth, particularly Beamon’s (Foxx). The anonymity of the title, Any Given Sunday, elevates the game, not the players. Thank God, the movie doesn’t force Beamon to assimilate into Pacino’s mold. He buys into the team-first philosophy without renouncing his idiosyncratic POV or his fierce individuality. This is a triumph. One of my biggest problems with sports is the flattening effect it can have on creative individuals. Players take media training in order to sound as alike as possible during media interviews, a long row of stoic giants spouting cliches. It’s boring. Which is why media latch onto a loudmouth, even while they scold him for it. All sports are dying for an intelligent mouthpiece who can explain his motivations in a succinct, sound-bite-friendly, manner. Sports are entertainment. As much as I love Sidney Crosby, in my heart I have to go with Alexander Ovechkin because Ovechkin is far more thrilling, both on and off the ice. Unlike almost every other NHL star before him, all of whom were forced to kneel and kiss Don Cherry’s Rock Em Sock Em ring, Ovechkin defiantly told the media he simply did not care about Cherry or Cherry’s disgusting parental reaction to one of Ovie’s more creative goal celebrations (called a “celly” in the biz). On the play in question, Ovechkin scored the goal, then dropped his stick and mimed warming his hands over it, as if his stick were on fire. As cheesy as the celebration appeared to the naked eye, it’s both a funny and accurate notion. Ovechkin was the hottest scorer in the league for many years and his stick was on fire, metaphorically speaking. The only celly I can think of that matches up in terms of creativity and entertainment value came from Teemu Selanne in 1993, who scored a beauty of a goal, threw one of his gloves straight up into the air, then pumped his stick like a shotgun while “shooting” his glove. Of course, Cherry took exception to it. Cherry’s favourite goal celebration features Bobby Orr putting his head down and refraining from raising his hands over his head. Cherry’s idea of an appropriate goal celly is no celly at all. This from a man who claims “we’ve got to sell our game.” But when an arrogant player shows up and he’s not white, he’s in for a shitload of bad press. Foxx’s Beamon illustrates this beautifully when he yells at Pacino after Pacino cuts him for an older QB who has lost four games this season. “Don’t play that racism card with me,” Pacino warns. “Okay…okay…” Foxx nods, “Maybe it’s not racism. Maybe it’s ‘placism’…as in…a brother got to know his place.”

youtube

Here is the original theatrical trailer, featuring Garbage’s classic “Push It.”

youtube

Above Lawrence Taylor begs Matthew Modine for Cortazone. There’s also a great scene where Pacino is trying to figure out where he has gone wrong and Diaz just looks at him. “You got old,” she says simply. No enterprise is more cruel to an aging human being than sports. And this movie makes football a big giant corporate machine that chews players up and spits them out, injured and drug addicted, after four or five years. Those who play for a decade are lucky. This is still how the NFL works. And the NHL is increasingly becoming a young man’s game. Experience matters less and less.

When I started watching hockey in the 90s, players regularly competed into their late 30s. Not so anymore. Players peak at 23-24 now, and are often out of the league by age 35. Thornton and Chelois are exceptions, not the rule. After more than two hours, Any Given Sunday finally lurches across the finish line, bravely refusing to give its viewers a traditional happy ending, in the great tradition of underdog sports films like Rocky and Rudy. The bombshell dropped by Pacino’s character at the end feels less surprising than inevitable, but by now the movie has explored so much of professional sports' seedy underbelly that you're glad it's over. The film is great but exhausting. Stone seems to be advancing the notion that the sport itself is pure, but the people in it are corrupt. If money weren’t involved, the game would be played for its own sake.

I agree with this. People playing pond hockey are engaging in wholesome fun, not necessarily practicing to make a professional league. Commerce corrupts the purity of the game, and the extent to which it corrupts is directly proportional to how badly the individual in question needs the commerce. Of course, the sport is highly racialized, with people in positions of authority white, and those being told what to do with their bodies Black.

Any Given Sunday is an important film, but it never sacrifices entertainment for the sake of moralizing. That it pulls off such a strong moralistic stance is a testament to the actors, who are all incredible, and the material, which is among the strongest of Stone’s career.

He never really made a great movie after this one. So check it out sometime.

#betterdaysareatoenailaway #anygivensunday #al pacino #jamie foxx #dennis quaid #james woods #matthew modine #jim brown #lawrence taylor #cameron diaz #ll cool j

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qcpmedia · 5 years ago

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“Birds of Prey”: A Crisis of Infinite Harleys

by Chris Clay

Ok-- let's get this part out of the way first: I love Harley Quinn.

Have done since her debut on Batman The Animated Series. My mother let my dad take me to see Tim Burton’s brilliant 1989 Batman film (I was 5 at the time) because she was under the assumption that Batman was always the high camp she remembered enjoying in the television show from her childhood. Thanks, Adam West! My journey into comics began shortly after learning to read with classical mythology, so I was totally prepared for all manner of tales about monsters, demons, serial killers, human traffickers, etc. Quickly becoming an avid comic reader, 10 year-old me was a DC & Marvel veteran who spent a lot of mental energy filling in the blanks on the softened-for-cartoons versions of Bats, Spidey & the X-Men.

After years of seeing "versions" of my favorite supers onscreen, I thought this new character, originally the Joker's jester henchwoman, was a breath of fresh air. She seemed like the perfect fit for both the show and the Joker, the first real Manic Pixie Dreamgirl. She was funny but also scary, vulnerable and just overall awesome. Best of all? She didn’t seem nerfed for kids tv. She just seemed oddly... real. And she was contagious. That complex reality bled onto anyone she shared enough screen time with. She helped me to see Poison Ivy as the troubled yet brilliant and sensitive person the show had always hinted she was. Besides Catwoman, no other character tested Batman's rigid sense of right and wrong more beautifully. Even Joker seemed multifaceted when Harley was around. I cheered as loudly as anyone when she ditched that clown, and those Harley/Ivy episodes were some of the best the series had to offer.

OG Harley & subsequent versions over the years tended to show a woman that was preyed upon by a master manipulator who pushed her to the edge of sanity. To the edge, not over it. She was definitely traumatized, but the original portrayals never presented any extreme mental problems. Sure, she was codependent & had a temper. And shitty taste in men. Those traits in moderation are not craaaazy. That's just being human.

Harley continued to evolve over the years, shaped by many creators and performers across multiple mediums. Her look has changed, her status as villain or antihero has vacillated and her relationships have been presented more and more as on her terms rather than something foisted upon her by chance.

The characterization problems started in comics, but David Ayers' disappointing 2016 Suicide Squad film brought this lesser Harl to the masses, along with a version of her *ahem* more revealing New52 costume, seemingly metahuman durability & chalk white skin. I always loved the idea that Harleen had the ability to take her jester clothing & clown makeup off, sit around with an equally dressed-down Ivy and talk about who they really were, what made them tick. This new Harley (like her modern comics counterpart) was always "on", displaying very little of the soulful, mature character many of us comics & animation fans know and love. Despite that, she was definitely the highlight of the film, and there were flashes of brilliance that made me believe Margot Robbie could get to the fundamental truths of the character if given another chance.

And that brings us rather neatly to Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn).

Harley Quinn, last seen in the aforementioned Suicide Squad, has just been dumped by the Joker & is forced to make her own way in Gotham City’s underworld. In short order, she meets Dinah Lance, Renee Montoya, Helena Bertinelli & Cassandra Cain. All of these ladies have, for various reasons, fallen onto the radar of neat-freak gangster Roman Sionis, played with scenery-scarfing delight by Ewan MacGregor. Forced to band together to survive, they eventually learn that despite their considerable individual talents, they're more formidable as a team.

For some reason I still can’t quite articulate, I remember being slightly underwhelmed when the cast was announced. I liked all of the actors... hell, each of them has had at least one role I absolutely loved them in-- but I still felt they were odd choices for their respective roles in this movie (more on that later). The trailer was where I got genuinely worried that Warner might be climbing back into the hole so many creators toiled to pull the DC film properties out of.

However, as I said in the beginning, I love Harley Quinn. I was definitely going to see this movie. In Margot Robbie, I felt Harley had a champion on par with Ryan Reynolds as Deadpool or Hugh Jackman as Wolverine; an actor who would work tirelessly to get their character right, on the page & onscreen, however many tries it took. Plus she was saying some interesting things about what she thought the the film & the character should represent during the rollout (and I know the movie isn't the trailer), so I was at "cautious optimism" by the time I sat down to watch the film.

I was totally wrong about one thing: the cast is the best thing about the movie, and that’s not some backhanded compliment. K.K. Barrett's production design is great, colorful while not feeling cheap or phony, and Cathy Yan has a great eye for fun directing choices that keep things zipping along... but the cast is the real MVP. They’re actually great.

Jurnee Smollet-Bell is understated & surprisingly physical as tough-as-nails chanteuse Dinah Lance, a classic “woman trying to keep her head down in a bum situation”. She gave modern comic book moll vibes & I Stan. Rosie Perez's Renee Montoya brought a dose of realism to the candy-coated insanity swirling all around her while also giving Harley an entertaining foil for the first 2 acts. She has probably my favorite fight scene in the entire movie.

Mary Elizabeth Winstead, the person I went into the movie thinking was the most grossly miscast, is hands down my favorite character in the film. She's equal parts ruthless & socially awkward, a take on Huntress that is somehow both anachronistic & perfectly in step with her comic counterpart. Even newcomer Ella Jay Basco brings a unique charm to what could have easily been an irksome reimagining of fan favorite Cass Cain as a sassy teenage pickpocket. MacGregor’s turn as Sionis is less a character than he is a symbol, acting as a stand-in for various brands of broken maleness, but the guy’s clearly having a blast and he has decent enough chemistry with the leads. Chris Messina as Victor Vsasz is an absolute snoozefest, a waste of both character and actor that I’ll give no more space or attention.

Now for the elephant in the room: Margot Robbie's Harley is my least favorite thing about the whole movie.

"But Chris..", I hear you yelling at your computational device, "...you said she was the lone bright spot of SS!"

True, but in a film with clever, unmuddied direction & other actors that actually display some semblance of emotion or charisma for more than one scene a piece, the bar has been raised this go round & Robbie's frantic mugging limbos under said bar by a mile. What’s worse is that she actively takes screen time that could be better spent fleshing out one of the other four characters. Only Huntress (who has probably the least screen time of any of the leads) actually has a backstory, but her origin is a large part of the plot. One could be forgiven for thinking the she wouldn’t have had one at all otherwise. We don’t really know anything about Cassandra Cain, Montoya is literally just Stock Cop, and you could make a whole movie out of how the hell Dinah ended up singing at Sionis’ club. And where the hell is the Joker?! Why is he letting Harley destabilize Gotham’s balance of power or letting Sionis threaten his ex-puddin’ while also claiming to be the the underworld’s top dog? Instead of answering these questions, we get a bunch of throwaway characters attacking the newly-emancipated Quinn and Suicide Squad flashbacks that look even uglier than before when placed side by side with the production design of this film. The fact that most of these characters are so thinly characterized yet still connect is a testament to the performances and chemistry of the central cast.

You get the feeling that a lot of this movie was Robbie as producer, exerting her ideas & energy onto a massive production that needed a lot of moving parts to line up in order to work. It's not easy to have everything riding on you, whether it’s the future of the DCEU, progressive representation of women in film or just your own movie stardom. I understand that and I sympathize. This frantic, flailing movie is the product of some 3 years of rewrites and pitching, shooting on and off for 9 months, plus all the promo stuff. Every interview that I've seen the cast do has basically been Robbie explaining things ad nauseam while Jurnee Smollet-Bell or Mary Elizabeth Winstead kind of quietly nod in agreement, with the exception of the recent season premiere of Hot Ones, where capsaicin finally allowed someone else get a word in edgewise. The real problem with that comes when you see the movie and realize she’s contextualizing so much of the film on other media outlets because the film itself doesn’t really seem to have the time or interest, leaving it’s star to try and explain what we actually see onscreen on the press tour. This leads to a situation akin to Final Fantasy XV, where the player needed heaps of supplemental content to understand what could and should have been included in the story proper. She just seems overworked, similar to when Ben Affleck wanted to perform the Herculean task of writing, directing & starring in the next solo Batman film. Maybe Margot & Harley both need a little break?

The internet is scrambling to diagnose why a well-reviewed movie starring a beloved character played by a popular actress is underperforming at the box office, citing everything from the trailer to the rating to the movie’s title, with many (including BoP creator Gerry Conway) blaming the lackluster box office on sexism, but I think there might be a simpler answer: this version is trying to pull from the entire history of Harley to create a singular characterization from sometimes disparate portrayals. It doesn’t help that Robbie’s Quinn exists in a universe that’s constantly shifting under her feet after every film.

Most comic characters are criticized for being inaccurate to the source material but Harley has arguably the opposite problem; almost a Crisis of Infinite Harleys, where Robbie and Warner Bros. want to stuff the best elements from every version of Harley into every movie she’s in. It’s supposed to be fan service but instead, often feels scattered and tiring. Not to mention the stuff these films just pluck straight out of thin air that don’t work...

The DC Universe version of the character chose to leave the Joker on her own terms and I thought that was a brilliant and socially relevant writing choice, so it was strange to then see the more mainstream (and arguably more popular) version of Harley be dragged out of Joker’s hideout, kicking and screaming. In a film who’s title was purposely made ridiculously long to accentuate the character’s supposed newfound self-sufficiency, For all of the things that do work well, Birds of Prey just doesn’t feel like what’s explicitly promised on the tin.

I still love Harley Quinn, and I still think Margot Robbie’s the right person for the job. No need to Pattinson her or anything... just put less on her plate and give the character and the movies she’s in a clear, singular direction. Pretty please, puddin’?

#birds of prey #harley quinn #dceu #margot robbie #ewan macgregor #jurnee smollett bell #rosie perez #dc comics #black mask #renee montoya #batman #ben affleck #robert pattinson #movies #essay

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seasonson5th · 5 years ago

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The G-spot doesn’t exist

There is no magic button. We’re here to correct the record—and to apologize.

Once upon a time, that time being 1982, there was sex. And then, suddenly, there was sex.

The difference? A teensy half-inch ribbed nub on the upper front wall of your vagina. Scientists—and magazines (hi) and books and sex-toy companies and movies and TV shows and your roommates and your sex-ed teacher—reported that it was a universal key to The Mysterious Female Orgasm. And thus began the era when you were supposed to be able to say “it blew my mind” to your girlfriends at brunch.

Or was it three inches wide? Farther down, near your vulva? Slick instead of ribbed? Kinda springy to the touch?

Whatever, it was it. And fuck if we all didn’t work hard to find our own. Back in 1982, Cosmo told women to get there by “squatting” so it would be easier “to stick one or two fingers inside the vagina” and make the necessary “come-hither motion.” A 2020 Google search turns up thousands of road maps (“where is the G-spot?” has been searched more times than Michaels Jordan and Jackson). That cute-adjacent guy you slept with in college tried the classic pile-drive maneuver, to middling success.

🩸THE G-SPOT IS ALLEGEDLY… 🩸🩸“One inch in.”  🩸🩸🩸“Three inches in.” 🩸🩸🩸🩸“Barely in.” 🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸“Near my cervix.” 🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸“The roof of my uterus.” 🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸“The back right of my vagina.” 🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸“In a little pocket of space up near my belly button.”🩸

But it must not matter, because the G-spot economy is booming: G-spot vibrators, G-spot condoms, G-spot lube, G-spot workshops, and, for the particularly daring and/or Goop-inspired, $1,800 G-spot shots meant to plump yours for extra pleasure.

Hell, even Merriam-Webster is in on it: The G-spot is a “highly erogenous mass of tissue” in every dictionary it prints.

So then why, when we talked to the woman who helped “discover” it, did she tell us we’ve all been obsessed with the wrong thing?

THAT WOMAN IS BEVERLY WHIPPLE, PHD. SHE AND A TEAM of researchers officially coined the term “G-spot” in the early ’80s. They named the thing, which they described as a “sensitive” “small bean,” for German researcher Ernst Gräfenberg (yeah, a dude). And just like that, your most frustrating fake body part was born.

Honestly, it all got out of hand from there, says Whipple. Her team wasn’t saying that each and every woman has a G-spot. (“Women are capable of experiencing sexual pleasure many different ways,” she insists to Cosmo now. “Everyone is unique.”) And despite that bean analogy, they didn’t mean it was a spot spot. They were talking about an “area” that could simply make some women feel good. But the media (hi again!) preferred the neat and tidy version and ran with it like a sexual cure-all.

Researchers did too. In 2012, a study published in The Journal of Sexual Medicine proclaimed that of course the G-spot was real. It just wasn’t a bean. It was actually an 8.1- by 3.6-millimeter “rope-like” piece of anatomy, a “blue” and “grape-like” sac. This revelation came from gynecologic surgeon Adam Ostrzenski, MD, PhD, after his study of an 83-year-old woman’s cadaver. (He went on to sell “G-spotplasty” treatments to women.) Over the years, lots of other researchers found the G-spot to be lots of other things: “a thick patch of nerves,” “the urethral sponge,” “a gland,” “a bunch of nerves.”

For the most part, though, the thing that women were supposed to find has remained a mystery to the experts telling them to find it. Dozens of trials used surveys, pathologic specimens, imaging, and biochemical markers to try to pinpoint the elusive G-spot once and for all.

In 2006, a biopsy of women’s vaginas turned up nothing.

In 2012, a group of doctors reviewed every single piece of known data on record and found no proof that the G-spot exists.

In 2017, in the most recent and largest postmortem study to date done on 13 cadavers, researchers looked again: still nothing.

🩸🩸THE G-SPOT IS ALLEGEDLY… “Really deep in there, not close to the opening of my vagina at all.” “IDK.” “My clitoris.” “By my butt.” “Behind the clitoris.” “Right inside my vagina and to the left.” “In different places.”🩸🩸

“It’s not like pushing an elevator button or a light switch,” asserts Barry Komisaruk, PhD, a neuroscientist at Rutgers University. “It’s not a single thing.”

“I don’t think we have any evidence that the G-spot is a spot or a structure,” says Nicole Prause, PhD, a neuroscientist who studies orgasms and sexual arousal. “I’ve never understood why it was interpreted as some new sexual organ. You can’t standardize a vagina—there is no consistency across women as to where exactly we experience pleasure.”

Sure, she says, some women might have an area inside their vaginas that contains a bunch of smaller, super-sensitive areas. But some women say that when they follow Cosmo’s old two-finger come-hither advice, they feel discomfort or like they have to pee. Others feel nothing at all. Because for them, there’s nothing there.

NOW FOR THE TRICKIEST PART OF this story—and, TBH, the reason this is even a story at all. Despite the lack of scientific evidence, there are still lots of G-spot believers, many of them super-smart, well-meaning sex educators. They’re a pretty heated group (one hung up on us when we called for an interview) and not...entirely...wrong. Their point is: If a woman believes she’s found her G-spot, that should outweigh any lack of science. And specifically, if someone claims to have experienced G-spot pleasure, it seems “bizarre” to shut her down, says Kristen Mark, PhD, a sex educator at the University of Kentucky. “That feels like going backward.”

Fair. It’s just that, as Prause points out, “women deserve accurate information about their bodies.” Can’t we have our pleasure—and the truth too?

As Prause said (and this bears repeating), for some women, there is sexual sensitivity where the G-spot is supposed to be. But for others, there’s none. Or it’s to the left. Or it’s in a few places. And that’s kind of the whole point. It’s all okay. It can all feel good.

What everyone can agree on is that we need more research. Women’s sexual health is vastly understudied, and the scientific hurdles are borderline absurd. In 2015, Prause tried to get a trial going at UCLA that would study orgasms in women who were, you know, actually alive. The board heard her out but wanted a promise that her test subjects “wouldn’t climax” because they didn’t like the optics of women orgasming in their labs. (As you’ve already guessed, the study wasn’t approved.)

So yeah, a new kind of thinking about female pleasure is going to take a minute for certain people to get on board with. Like those brunch friends who go on and on about G-spot rapture. And like men, who might love the idea of the G-spot best of all. A G-spot orgasm requires penetration, which just so happens to be the way most guys prefer to get off. “If you’ve got a penis, it would be super convenient if the way the person with a vagina has pleasure is for you to put your penis in their vagina,” says Emily Nagoski, PhD, author of Come as You Are, a book that explores the science of female sexuality. Related: 80 percent of the men in Cosmo’s survey said they believe every woman has a G-spot; nearly 60 percent called it the “best way” for a female partner to achieve pleasure. (“Once you rally enough experience like myself, you can find it on every girl,” one supremely confident guy told us.)

Just like it did for women, the G-spot gave men a universal performance metric and the “cultural message that pleasure for women happens by pounding on their vaginas with your penis,” says Nagoski.

Things were this close to going in a much better direction. “In the early ’80s, there was research that was really putting the clitoris front and center,” explains Nagoski. “Then along came the G-spot research, creating this pressure for women to be orgasmic from vaginal stimulation even though most women’s bodies just aren’t wired that way. And if you really think about why vaginal stimulation matters so much, it’s because it puts the focus on male pleasure.”

GO AHEAD AND LET THAT SINK in while we gear up to talk about the fallout. Not only the sexual frustration (although that, definitely that) but also the giant emotional burden the G-spot unwittingly dropped on all of us. Turns out, the thing that was supposed to awaken and equalize our sex lives came with a really shitty side effect: shame.

More than half of the women in Cosmo’s survey reported feeling inadequate or frustrated knowing that others are able to orgasm in a way they can’t. Eleven percent said this made them avoid sex entirely. “I have friends who say they always climax from intercourse alone and they’re like, ‘You just haven’t found it yet,’” says Alyssa, a Cosmo reader. “It’s like they’re the lucky ones.”

That’s why on one recent Tuesday, another Cosmo reader, Beth, found herself sitting in a room that looked oddly like a vagina—low, pink light, a candle burning softly nearby—getting her first round of G-spot homework. She and her husband had hired a sex therapist to help them feel more in sync sexually. Basically, he wanted it a lot more than she did, probably because she was still waiting for something...bigger. “I can have a clitoral orgasm,” she says. “But knowing that there’s something better, I wanted to experience that.”

🩸🩸THE G-SPOT IS ALLEGEDLY… “Just go up with your finger and make a G.”  “Slightly out of reach.” “It depends.” “On the outside of the labia.” “Part of the lady parts.” “A secret place.”🩸🩸

The couple’s take-home tasks were a checklist of “sexy” moves, designed to help them find Beth’s G-spot so she could have The Orgasm. “The night we did doggy-style, it felt...god, there was the sound of skin smacking and my husband asking me if it was working. It was terrible.” (We fact-checked this with Beth’s husband. Oh yeah, “it sucked.”) After that, they gave up.

Other couples are still searching: 22 percent of guys say that finding a woman’s G-spot is the number one goal of sex, which helps explain the 31 percent of women who say they’re dealing with exasperated partners. Prause worries about that. She says: “You’ll hear guys say things like, ‘My last girlfriend wasn’t this much work,’ or ‘You take a long time to orgasm,’ or ‘This worked for the last person I slept with.’ That makes women question if they’re normal. And that, we hate.”

WHICH IS WHY WE’RE CALLING OFF THE SEARCH. WE’RE done with the damn “spot” and we’re sorry, again, that we ever brought it up. And actually: Unless sex researchers make a surprisingly major breakthrough, Cosmo won’t be publishing any more G-spot sex positions or “how to find it” guides.

“What would truly be revolutionary for women’s sex lives is to engage with what research has found all along: the best predictors of sexual satisfaction are intimacy and connection,” adds Debby Herbenick, PhD, a professor at Indiana University School of Public Health and a research fellow at the Kinsey Institute.

The science world is revolutionizing, too, trying to figure out how to rebrand the G-spot into something more (and by “more,” we mean actually) accurate. Whipple stands by her “area.” Italian researchers have suggested renaming it the somewhat less sexy “clitoral vaginal urethral complex.” Herbenick has her own ideas: “First of all, it should not be named after a man. It’s a female body we’re talking about, and just because a man wrote about it doesn’t mean he was the first to understand or experience it.” But anyway, she’d go with “zone.”

As for us, we’re going to kick off this new era with a 100 percent G-spot-free piece of smarter, wiser sex advice, courtesy of Nagoski: “If it feels good, you’re doing it right.” Call that whatever you want.

WELL THIS IS A BUMMER...

YEAH, IT FOOLED US TOO

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blapisblogs · 5 years ago

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I feel like I need to apologize to you all for exposing you all to that video, even if indirectly. That very well may be- no, you know what? It is the worst thing I’ve ever liveblogged on here, bar none. Even worse than Rio 2 (and you know that’s no easy feat if you saw my reaction to that movie’s shitty ending). I don’t enjoy covering something that I know is gonna make me mad, I really don’t, but holy shit this was too much for me to avoid not talking about.

Full disclosure: before I found out about this video and the massive backlash it got, I was what you might call a casual Pink Floyd fan. (I liked the songs of theirs I’ve heard on the radio and one of their less-popular albums that my dad has.) I’d heard of the film version of The Wall a few times but hadn’t actively thought about it or sought it out. I didn’t know about almost anything regarding any of the stories behind the songs. After the backlash though? I looked a bit more into their work, which is fascinating. I listened to the whole original album for The Wall, and now it’s one of my favorite concept albums. My girlfriend @animatedc9000 and I watched the movie together not too long ago, and since then it’s grown on me quite a bit, more than any other movie based on a concept album I’ve seen (which may not be saying much since that list only includes Tommy, which is a mixed bag, and Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, which sucks). When I started sharing the things I was finding out about the album with her, she told me that all of it was “blow[ing her] mind”. I’ve found something new that I like, and it’s because of all the people who cared to speak up against the work of somebody who didn’t care enough about it to really do the subject matter justice.

Listen, I’m not saying that if you have a different view or opinion on something from me and/or most others that you’re wrong. Don’t like The Wall, either the film or the album? That’s fine. Don’t care for Pink Floyd in general? That’s okay. Can’t enjoy The Wall because of all the drama behind it regarding Roger Waters? Fair enough. However, if you’re gonna review something like this, then context is important (especially for something like The Wall, both the album and film), and not only does this “review” provide none of that, it feels like Doug Walker doesn’t know the context either and that he didn’t do any research into any of it past his initial viewing. I know I’m not the best when it comes to bringing up all the details about the things I liveblog, but that’s because I’m not really reviewing them so much as reacting to them half the time, and even then I at least try my best to let people know what’s going on. I’m just one person on the internet who does this stuff mostly on the fly, for fun, and for free, unlike Doug Walker who’s got thousands of subscribers, (supposedly) analyzes media for a living, plans most of his material out in advance, and has the resources to make an elaborate production like this.

That being said, what Doug Walker did in this video isn’t just state his unpopular opinion in an ill-conceived way; he continually made fun of an abuse victim, saying that what they went through wasn’t that bad and he should just get over it, and made no attempts to even try and understand how it affected them even long after it all happened. That is the biggest factor in what makes this so unforgivable to me, and all of the other terrible elements that come with it just further cement it as the worst video he’s ever done. Of course, this isn’t that new for him or his company, given that their first public message addressing the Change the Channel situation was “We sincerely regret you feel that way”, so what makes this different from that? (Well, aside from the mistreatment of the former employees being arguably unproven whereas you can’t even deny the fact that he’s mocking an abuse victim here.) I’m sorry to say that the answer seems to come down to more of who he’s talking about this time than anything.

Look, certain classic rock fans can be easy to irritate, to put it mildly. I include myself in that because I still have a tendency to clench my jaw and groan whenever some guy (yes, including Doug Walker, and yes, it’s always cishet white guys I see doing this) refers to The Who’s “Won’t Get Fooled Again” as “The CSI Miami theme”. It’s not a big secret that rock fans are like this either, in a way you could say it’s a stereotype. Nobody really seems to talk about Doug Walker’s content all that much these days (outside of people doing “cringe compilations” of it I guess), not after that Not So Awesome document discussed the horrible things he and his company have done to their former employees. If he wanted to get people’s attention again, he was gonna have to do something big and in a way where people would have to talk about him, and what better way to do that than with a series of statements regarding something some people have a strong attachment to (and whose album happened to be turning forty soon) where he can feature bigger name guest stars and includes something he can try to sell off to his most dedicated fans?

What I’m saying is that Nostalgia Critic’s The Wall comes off as an attempt to troll for attention so he can try and become relevant again, even if it's for all the wrong reasons.

That’s probably the wrong conclusion to come to for this (or maybe not; this is a guy who seems to delight in pissing off Pokémon fans for no good reason), but at this point who even cares what the reasoning behind it was. What matters is that this happened, and the things he’s said here aren’t just lazy, they’re cruel and insulting to say to an abuse victim, and no amount of guest stars or special effects can cover that up or save it. If you can handle darker, fairly depressing subject matter, I do recommend listening to The Wall, perhaps even checking out the movie if you can handle what’s in the album (though not before looking into the kind of triggering content it has; like I said earlier, it gets dark at points). If it doesn’t seem like your thing, I completely understand, but regardless of how you feel about it, please do not watch this “review” or seek out the album they made of their songs from it, not even to try and laugh at how bad it is or see for yourself if it really is that bad. Please trust me: it is that bad and it is not worth your time.

Doug Walker, I doubt you’ll ever read this, but if somehow you do, then I have just one thing to say to you: STOP.

#Blapis tears down NC's The Wall #long post #bold text warning #capslock warning #final thoughts

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nowheregirl28 · 6 years ago

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Female Representation In Films: Aquaman (2018)

For a lot of years I saw lots of movies, all kinds of genres from different countries and used to write about them. I wrote about movies trying to sound professional and objective, focusing on different aspects (script, performances, cinematography...) while studying media & cinema. But it was not until recently that I start focusing on the shitty roles for women.

Now I will try to redeem myself and focus on Female Representation In Films to see how female characters are in different kinds of movies. I will do that with a couple of simple questions.

- Does it has a powerful/interesting female character?

- Does it pass the Bechdel test? (have at least 2 female characters with names, that talk to each other about something else than a man)

- Are there women in other departments? (director, cinematography, script, editing, music)

- Is the movie good nevertheless? (extra question to fulfil my film reviewer self)

DISCLAIMER: I’ll try no to spoil anything important, but sometimes it is necessary to explain the roles and the characters represented.

AQUAMAN (2018) dir. James Wan

- Does it has a powerful/interesting female character?

Yes. There are two main female characters: Atlanna, mother of Aquaman and Mera, daughter of King. Both are brave warriors, rebellious and independent. However, Atlanna accepts to give up her position of power as a Queen for love and a quiet life with Aquaman’s human father. And Mera needs Aquaman to challenge the status quo of Atlantis. They both end up accepting the rules of a man dominated society.

- Does it pass the Bechdel test?

Barely. Atlanna and Mera have different story lines during most of the movie. When they meet, they have a small talk (Is that enough?) and then they also talk about the future of Atlantis and how Arthur/Aquaman is the right person to rule.

- Are there women in other departments?

According to IMDB there are 2 female producers out of 10: Khadija Alami and Deborah Snyder (Zack Snyder’s wife). Anne McCarthy and Kellie Roy in the casting department, Danielle Berman and Beverley Dunn in charge of the set decoration and Kym Barrett as the costume designer.

- Is the movie good nevertheless?

Like most of superheroes movies the visual effects is what stand out the most. The script follows a classic “hero’s journey” structure with no surprises. 2h 23 minutes is usually way too long for any kind of movie. If you are into superheroes movies, it might be worth a try although. In my mind it will be forgotten and mixed with most of the other superheroes movies.

#aquaman #movie review #movie #female #representation #bechdel test #film #women #women in movies #female representation

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filmfreak1994 · 7 years ago

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Change the Channel

A lot of people have been talking about their experiences with Channel Awesome in the wake of the 60+ page document released by Allison Pregler and several other former content creators for Channel Awesome. I figured I might throw my own experience with the site and its people (mostly Doug) too while the topic is relevant, even considered dusting off the old camera I got for Christmas to film a video but allergy season is upon us and I’m coughing up my lungs so the written word it is.

I was a frequent user of YouTube in the early days of its inception, mostly to look up viral videos and just go on a stream of pointlessness for hours on end with each recommended vid in the sidebar (mostly consisting of parodies to Star Wars, LotR, and entire Simpsons episodes uploaded before the great purge of early 2008). In all that time between 2006 and 2007, reviewers like the Angry Video Game Nerd and The Nostalgia Critic eluded me. I saw plenty of the 5 Second Movie clips and thought they were hysterical but didn’t even make the connection that they were made by a “Nostalgia Critic” until around the end of 2009, when a friend of mine at school told me to look up NC’s review of Sonic the Hedgehog (the weird TV show and the futuristic evil Jim Cummings one). I finally gave in which led me to watching some of his other, recent reviews like the “Star Wars Holiday Special” which was freaking hysterical (and still brings a warm smile to my face just thinking about it). By the time the new year rolled around and I had discovered That Guy With The Glasses I was hooked.

For a while I stuck to watching reviews on YouTube when fans would rip them from the main site, but decided to eventually support the site itself where I mostly stuck to NC videos but also watched content from the other producers when it interested me; Spoony and his Final Fantasy reviews, Linkara and any comic with a subject material I was familiar with, Marzgurl and her Don Bluth retrospective, so on and so forth. Like many other people, I wasn’t keeping up with every producer’s videos weekly like I was with NC, but when I decided to watch something else their content was worth it, being funny and informative all at once, even creating new branches of my interest and giving me new perspectives on media criticism.

I watched Nostalgia Critic religiously every week and, sorry to say, started to take his opinion as gospel, and the opinions of other reviewers as well, treating certain movies and shows as bad just because they said so and didn’t have an opinion for myself for the longest time. It was when I started to pay attention to Doug Walker himself and his philosophy that you should like what you like and every movie is a miracle that I started to chill out and even disagree with his opinions at times (I remember his “Little Nemo” review made me seek out that movie and I actually quite enjoyed it).

TGWTG was a formative site for me in my high school years, developing much of my sense of humor and how I look at movies. I watched all the anniversary specials, started to watch a greater portion of producers that included Lindsay and Kyle’s more analytical reviews and Brad Jones’s and Matthew Buck’s mix of cynicism and snark with genuine analytical praise and criticism. I even started to look at music critics like Paw or Todd even though I can’t judge music for shit (if it has a catchy beat I’ll more or less dig it, I’m not picky). I always imagined when I moved out for college (yeah, how’d that work out for ya, younger me) that I would start my own review series in the vein of these online personalities and even be picked up for the site where I too could join in on the anniversary movies and have a swell time and make friends with the people I looked up to and have a good time filming huge crossover events with them (in hindsight I can only imagine what role Doug would have me play in them, if I was even deemed important to be in them at all). Whenever people criticized the anniversary movies I just shrugged it off and said, “Yeah, they’re dumb, but I like em anyway,” and when rumors starting going around about some upside down crucifixion going on I shrugged them off as just rumors (and to be fair it wasn’t upside down but the real thing isn’t much better).

Anyway, around the time when To Boldly Flee came I enjoyed the movie a lot (I only saw it the once and I was eighteen, eighteen-year-old me and present me don’t get on anymore) and thought it was a bittersweet conclusion to The Nostalgia Critic but was excited to see what new projects Doug and the company would do after its conclusion. Plus the other contributors still had their content to keep TGWTG going strong into the foreseeable future. At least I thought.

I didn’t hate Demo Reel, but I didn’t like it all that much either. I only caught around a few episodes before losing interest, saying I’d get back into it eventually but never going out of my way to see them. By accounts they got better as they went along and I was interested in the episode that paid tribute to Elizabeth Hartman (which I think is the same episode that had Mara Wilson and Arin Hanson? I might be wrong (I didn’t even know who Arin was at the time but hindsight is 20/20)), but I just put off watching them until, oh look, NC’s back. At the time I thought this was interesting, there was plenty he could still do with the character given his new ground rules and the emphasis on skits gave the show a different tune that I felt, at the time, kept it fresh from what it was before. I missed the simplicity of the earlier reviews but I happily stuck with the NC again, as well as the same creators I’d happily watched before and plenty more I started to watch like Phelous (around the time he did that weird Aladdin meets Pagemaster movie, I used to rent that from Hollywood Video all the freaking time).

It was around this tumultuous time that Doug actually kinda started to annoy me. Never to the point where I stopped watching NC, but he sort of seemed to forget his whole “Like what you like,” message and outright attacked fans who disagreed with him. Certain jokes in his reviews rubbed me the wrong way (if Irate Gamer can’t get away with blowing up Ubisoft cuz they wouldn’t let him into a conference, you can’t get away with pretending to blow up Happy Madison just because they make shit movies) and he had a general vindictiveness to those who liked movies like “Man of Steel” or “The Lorax” that just seemed mean spirited and not a funny little video meant to entertain (though I guess the signs were always there like when he added in a dig at “Avatar” in his “Conan” review for no reason). But by and by he seemed to mellow out (no doubt dealing with problems letting go of Demo Reel and how big a success he thought it would be) and I still watched his stuff, including the vlogs he did with Rob regarding “Avatar” (the good one, hey I did it too!), “Korra,” “Adventure Time,” and any recent movie that came out. I started to agree with them less and less but they were still entertaining guys and I liked what they were doing.

Some of the shadier stuff going on at the site more or less flew over my head. The game show they did was pretty much “Demo Reel” part two for me in how much interest I had in it and that faded from public consciousness pretty quickly, and it was around the time the site switched from TGWTG to just Channel Awesome that a real shift began to become more noticeable. People were leaving. People I may not have watched all the time, but they were leaving, often times unannounced and seemingly unprovoked (because quite a few of them were). I read about what happened to Allison, aka Obscurus Lupa, who I had watched on and off again and thought that was pretty shitty, and got a general grasp that the management of CA itself wasn’t very good from what she and Lindsay alluded to (or just straight up said, they really should’ve had some NDAs if they cared so much about how they look) in some posts on Tumblr or Twitter but I still carried on watching NC and the other creators on the site mostly because I just figured what every fan figured at the time, Doug was mostly innocent and it was Michaud and Rob who were the real strings behind big decisions like who stays and goes (I liked Rob fine, but even back then I knew he could be kind of an ass).

More and more people from the classic era of TGWTG were leaving or not producing as much for the site as they did and that was a shame. CA was never what TGWTG felt like to me, even if the purpose was to put more focus on the other producers (supposedly (hell, TGWTG did a way better job of featuring producers in my opinion even if it wasn’t perfect)). But whatever, I carried on every Tuesday watching NC, watching other creators when their stuff interested me, but it still wasn’t quite the same as before, and I had become more aware of the general bad experience most people had filming the anniversary movies even if the full extent of that didn’t come until a few days ago.

It was really when Lewis announced that he had left and I found the Change the Channel hashtag that I started to take notice of these stories, finding plenty of them on my own from the links to Twitter conversations many of the former contributors were having before reading them on the Google doc. I was torn, wondering if I should boycott NC with all that I had read and decided to make it a temporary one until the doc came out and to see if he or CA would provide a statement. Well, the doc came out and the apology not long after. And yeah, I moved it to a permanent ban after that bullshit.

I’ve given up watching people I loved before, JonTron and his racist bullshit was the last straw in supporting anything he did, and even with the Me Too movement I’ve given up any kind of support for people like Kevin Spacey who I used to love as an actor (now it’s pretty easy to see how he was able to play such scumbag villains over and over again). I know Doug isn’t a Nazi or Nazi sympathizer, and to my knowledge he hasn’t used his position to sexually take advantage of anyone (though he has turned a blind eye to others doing the same and the same can’t be said for taking advantage of people in other ways), but I just couldn’t watch stuff directly made by him and for Channel Awesome with all this information. It wouldn’t be right, even with an adblocker.

I don’t mean to threaten the livelihood of people on his team like Malcolm or Tamara, I like them a great deal and they’re very talented, heck I even enjoyed the skits on NC a lot more than most because of them (and Rachel, she was great too). But I said to myself until an actual apology is listed and some form of action is taken to truly better the site, I wouldn’t watch them. Others have suggested and I have thought the same, that the best thing to do would be to fire Michaud, though I realize this would create a slew of problems given that he owns the IP for NC and is the founder of CA. Still, some form of acknowledgement from the Walkers would go a long way to bettering the public response to all this. More and more contributors have left in the wake of this document, either out of fear for their own image or to show solidarity with the many complaints levied toward the site (and their reasons are completely valid no matter what, they’re trying to make a living), looking at the site today it’s practically a ghost town. I don’t blame those that have stayed for anything, but the reputation of CA is tarnished and at this point, especially with that piss-poor “apology,” it’s going to take several huge leaps to get it back.

I realize the purpose of Change the Channel was never to create a boycott of NC or any of the Walker’s content, at least by the majority of those who contributed to the docs, and those who choose to boycott do so of their own volition. Well, that’s my volition. No matter how much NC shaped my sense of humor in my younger years and inspired me to look at movies critically myself, I can’t deny the damage that Doug and Rob have been complicit in nor turn a blind eye to the shady practices they, Michaud, and past executives on the site have done.

I really do wish that what was seemingly apparent in front of the camera, that this was a site filled of talented people who were also good friends having a good time, was true behind the scenes as well. People have been hurt, assaulted, taken advantage of, and tossed aside when they were no longer useful to the site. It’s not right, and I’m literally changing the channel until actual change is made.

#Channel Awesome #The Nostalgia Critic #Doug Walker #Rob Walker #Mike Michaud #ChangetheChannel #an explanation of my thoughts on NC as a whole #and why I'm boycotting him until further notice

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theworstbob · 7 years ago

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the thing journal, 5.28 - 6.3

capsule reviews of the pop culture things i took in last week. in this post: from a room, chi-raq, the intervention, all the beauty in this whole life, bone tomahawk, spades and roses, souvenir, spin, brooklyn nine-nine, blue velvet

1) From a Room, Vol. I, by Chris Stapleton: My thing with Chris Stapleton is, I have enjoyed his two albums, I have thought they were both Very Good, I think they're both fine examples of what country should sound like and understand their importance in keeping country music vital. I'd fall just short of calling either of them classics. Which is a weird space to be evaluating an album, where your main critique of an album is that it isn't an all-time classic, that you agree the songs are good and that a lot are great (and there's some great fuckin' songs, "Either Way" is just, yerrrgh, that's a toughie), but sometimes, it feels like there's some ingredient missing from the mix. I think it just feels too perfect. This man has a perfectly tortured voice, capable of translating any sort of pain and misery he feels, and he's using it to craft perfect country songs about country things like drinking and being in jail. It feels like he's content to do great things within the confines of the genre when he could be reinventing it, which, hey, fair enough, Chris Stapleton making really good country songs is a thing in this world I'm not complaining about, and if he never unlocks the potential I believe he has and only ever makes songs like "Death Row," I'd be cool with that choice.

2) Chi-Raq, dir. Spike Lee: Because I am ignorant of any piece of media that was made before 2003, I did not know what the Greek drama this was based off was about, so when I realized it was a film about women withholding sex made by the dude who made She Hate Me (this is an unfair comment because I haven't seen the film, but I'm pretty sure that's an unpleasant movie), I kinda prepped myself for an uncomfortable experience. And then the film ended up being fucking fantastic. The fact that the "no peace, no pussy" protest elicits a reaction of "Well, we have dicks. They love our dicks! Surely, if we just remind them of the fact of our dicks we'll put an end to this nonsense" is not just what would obviously happen should a similar protest occur in reality, it calls attention to the fact that so many problems facing the world are being caused by dudes who can't see past the apparent power of their dicks. (I will bring to the grave the belief that, if all the Republican presidential candidates held a joint press conference to tell Donald Trump he had a large penis, Donald Trump would have suspended his campaign and receded into the background.) But more importantly, this film has things to say about this country. It hits on everything, and it hits it hard. It calls out gang violence for bringing strife to black communities, then calls out the people who would use that strife to undermine causes like Black Lives Matter. It's a film stylized all the way to hell that remains grounded in reality because, what with the lists of names the film brings up (multiple lists, and nary a name repeated on any of these lists), it's impossible to fully escape reality. It's an astonishing film from a master director on a subject he's had to explore too often. (Also, Samuel L. Jackson having the time of his life as a Greek chorus.)

3) The Intervention, dir. Clea DuVall: I can never remember which character from Parks & Rec elicited this Perd Hapley line that has stayed with me forever, but all the same, some character asks Perd Hapley "Do you know what I mean?" and Perd responds, "I don't! But it had the tone and cadence of a joke." I have used that line to describe so many things where I respect the attempt at humor but don't ever laugh. This film is an example of what I'd use that line to describe. There's a lot of funny people in the cast, and there were plenty of comedic set-ups, but nothing like an actual joke. I think the film wanted to be a serious meditation on the relationships between these people (who were related in some convoluted way or another), so it tried to distance itself from the comedy, but it never took anything serious enough for the emotional moments to land with any impact. I wouldn't attribute this to the cast -- Melanie Lynskey is fantastic, and I completely forgot but Cobie Smulders can do goddamn work y'all -- more to the point that, hey, there's a low ceiling and low floow for movies about upper-middle-class white folks who only share quiet and emotionally difficult moments with other upper-middle-class white folks, and this film lands somewhere in the middle. I saw this the same day I saw Chi-Raq. Y'all tryna get away with pointin' a camera at some randos, and that's not gonna cut it.

4) All the Beauty in This Whole Life, by Brother Ali: On my personal Top 20 list for the year, I have this ahead of DAMN. It's 10% contrarianism, 20% homerism, 65% this is an amazing record by an amazing man, 5% no one at any point shouts KUNG FU KENNY. It's easy to make an angry political record. I think Rise Against is releasing an album this year, and it's already getting an A- and barely missing the Top 20, because times are shitty and it's easy to be angry. It's hard to look at the world as it is today and find things to defend, reasons to keep going. The most profound political statement to be made is that the world is fundamentally good and needs to be protected from those bringing it ruin, and Brother Ali makes that statement with authority. We'll have plenty of time and reasons to get angry in the coming days/months/years/decades. This is a record advising you to take a second to reflect on what's good in the world, the reasons hate came to be, what we can do to bring out the beauty, to explore what peace we can find before we start a war. It's powerful, amazing work.

5) Bone Tomahawk, dir. S. Craig Zahler: Not gonna lie: took a catnap in the middle of this one, very short, not even sure I was asleep, but definitely let the ol' eyeballs have a rest for a couple seconds. Didn't feel like I missed much plot-wise when I woke up, though. Probably missed a lot of beautiful shots of the Western hills (ok, THIS film is how you break in an HD display, I feel, nuts to Interstellar), but hoo boy, this film moved slowly! On the whole, the film was pretty great, I loved the way it built that town's community in just the one emergency meeting scene ("Look at the mayor when you're addressing him." "Yeah! Look at me!"), but there's a lot of time spent with gruff Westerners speaking softly about the great and terrible things they've done, and impeccably composed as those shots were, I can only be so interested in the things Matthew Fox has to say. (Also, hey there, central romance between a dude and a woman 22 years younger than him.) The film builds to the conclusion well, it picked up the pace a few scenes after my nap most regrettable, and I typically can enjoy a glacially-paced film now and then without sleeping, but if you have a worse attention span than me, this ain't rhe film for you.

6) Spades and Roses, by Caroline Spence: i do not remember how i came to add this particular indie singer-songwriter's ablum to my queue, but here we are, and this was fine! This was fine. I liked it. I rode on a bus and listened to this album, and I thought the young woman sang soft and sweet though potentially dark songs over gentle acoustic guitars. I cannot say I regret listening to this album, though I find myself unable to say much beyond that, because it was fine.

7) Souvenir, by Banner Pilot: I listened to this pop/punk album from an act I understand to be local after Spades and Roses, and one thing I should learn to do is try to pair albums better so that I'm not dealing with a change in mood this intense, so that there's a logical flow to the albums, some thematic link, not just "I added some shit to the library and I guess I'm listening to these today." Figuring thiis sort of stuff out is kinda hard, y'know? Like, I don't want to feel like I'm adding stuff to the library just to get it out of the way three weeks later, and maybe that colors my experience with albums like this or Spades and Roses, where they're fine but not necessarily something I feel I need to listen to twice, but if I come away from an album thinking I don't need to listen to it twice to get the full story, I'm not sure I'm being completely fair to the album. ...This review isn't so much a review of the album itself as much as it's a review of how I listen to music. C-. Needs a lot of improvement.

8) spin, by Tiger's Jaw: OK so I can tell ya right now I fucked up listening to this one. I was distracted, I had connection issues, I went grocery shopping and spent the majoirty of the grocery shopping twist asking myself what groceries I needed instead of what this album was doing for me, I did the thing where I treated music like background noise and not the thing I should be paying attention to. I thought the album was OK, but I could tell that it came to me on the wrong day, that maybe I should have put on something I'd heard before, and saved this one for a time when I could give this what it deserves. Bad week for me and my listening habits. Like, I do the thing with movies where I put the film on full screen and only check my phone to check the time, I need to find the thing for music that gets me to pay attention to music for more than one song at a time.

9) Brooklyn Nine-Nine s4, cr. Michael Schur & Dan Goor: I'm beginning to think this show would be the rare half-hour sitcom to benefit from a 13-episode order. This does action-comedy so well, but you can't really sustain the intensity of the action-comedy aspects of the show over 22 episodes, but then they have to fill the rest of the episodes with hangout-sitcommy bits that are very hit-and-miss for me. Once the show has a plot, it sings, but when it's doing its mystery-of-the-week thing what with A, B, and C plots so the entire cast has things to do, it can feel unfocused. I mean, hey, I watched every episode, I think the show is hilarious (I will sing Andre Braugher's praises until they can hear me from the moon), but I had to learn to deal with its inconsistency. Maybe not a Hall of Famer, but so many All-Stars never make the Hall of Fame, y'know?

10) Blue Velvet, dir. David Lynch: I saw this on Saturday night, and I'm still trying to process it. I'm actually not sure right now that I've seen a David Lynch movie before, which might explain why I feel so off-sync with this film; I've seen season one of Twin Peaks, but I'm otherwise unfamiliar with what he does, beyond a David Foster Wallace essay about the director. Perhaps I've become too desensitized to violence to understand what's shocking about the violence in Blue Velvet, or too many films derivative of Lynch to see what's uniquely Lynchian about Blue Velvet. I do see the central point and believe it's fascinating -- the only think keeping Jeffrey Beaumont from actually being Frank Booth is a sense of decorum, that Jeffrey needs to be Jeffrey to live in civilized society, but the only thing Frank does that Jeffrey only does reluctantly is Violence, and now I'm realizing this is Hannibal, that's where I saw this movie, was Hannibal, OK, OK, cool cool cool, but also, that theme of the darkness within, of people like Frank being everywhere, it resonates, because now we live in a world where we can remove ourselves from a sense of decorum and be Frank. To see Frank Booth in 2017 is to see the manifestation of a Twitter egg. So in the course of this review, we discovered that we are on this film's wavelength, and that the distance we had to bridge was created by seeing Lynchian works and living in the end times.

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