#I might need to make art of them saying iconic lines from the film

[emily-mooon]

Idk how to word this in a way that makes sense, but a Sexbob-omb this is spinal tap au is something I need.

[longlistshort]

The 2023 Emerging Artist Exhibition in Creative Pinellas’ gallery space highlights work from the ten Pinellas County artists chosen by the organization for this year’s Emerging Artist Grant.

Above are sculptures by Amy Wolf. She has written several articles for the Creative Pinellas website which give some insight into her work and are worth a read.

According to artist Kimberly Engel, the paintings above “explore vibrant color interaction while inviting viewers to meditate on an illusive horizon line where sky meets water.”

From the Creative Pinellas website-

Kimberly Engel is a contemporary abstract painter who lives and works in Clearwater, Florida. Her distinct gestural style combines a love for color interaction with spontaneous mark making. Engel’s paintings explore levels of transparency, evoking depth and light. She is inspired by the constant presence and changing states of large bodies of water. She has lived on the shore of Lake Erie in Euclid, Ohio prior to moving to the Gulf Coast. Engel describes her process as an exploration of herself and ultimately the dissolving of herself mirrored in the process of making and deconstructing works. Her gestural marks have been described as both compulsive and somewhat calligraphic. They undulate and disappear under thin veils of color.

Also check out her Instagram.

Denis DeBon created the unique glass works seen above.

His biography from the gallery website-

Dennis DeBon is the creator of EnergyWebs, which are one-of-a-kind works of modern glass art. He is often been compared to artist Jackson Pollock. Like Pollack, Dennis uses simple artistic techniques and has combined reverse painting on glass with spin art and taken both to a whole new level. Each EnergyWeb is cut from a large sheet of plate glass, then free-style hand-cut into shape, scalloped, polished then spun. Dennis uses a multitude of application techniques and color combinations when creating each piece before firing and hand-signing them. Every EnergyWeb is a unique, one-of-a-kind work of modern glass art and he is the only artist in the world creating them. In addition to selling his artwork at fine art festivals across the country, Dennis was commissioned as the artist to create the Richard Dawkins Awards. In addition, his past creations have been presented to James “The Amazing” Randi, Carl Sagan’s widow, Ann Druyan,  and the Zora Neale Hurston and the Koi Society of America award winners. Dennis was born and raised in Buffalo, New York and attended the Rochester Institute of Technology in Rochester, New York, where he studied photography and graphic design. He now lives in Saint Petersburg, Florida and when he isn’t creating art, you might find him writing screenplays or in the boxing ring . . . working as a professional boxing referee.

For Kate Cummins’ installation, gallery visitors can see different sections of her work by pulling the cords to the side- creating new combinations of the three large scrolls.

From the gallery website-

“I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t drawing, painting or fabricating something out of something else” says artist Kate Cummins of her work. “I come from a creative household where the arts had a natural hierarchy”. After completing an Honors Bachelor’s of Fine Art degree from the University of Western Ontario, Kate travelled extensively and now lives with her family in St. Petersburg, Florida. Kate works in the film industry and has a busy studio practice where her focus has been creating work that responds to social issues. She says of her artistic career, “I am grateful to have a creative and challenging work life and look forward to concentrating exclusively on my artwork”.

The need to connect with others is the purpose and motivation for my art making. In my large scale abstract paintings I call attention to recurrent symbols: icons, motifs and totems. This personal iconography has become my language. Through it I am able to process and communicate perspectives regarding the effects of important societal influences, primarily; climate crisis, social conflict, and women’s rights. I rely on form and color to distill an internal commentary I cannot put into words. I see the work conveying my sense of optimism and confidence on a vibrant, color filled surface yet there’s an insinuated disorder and disguised unease. I am whisper-yelling “do you feel that everything’s ok-not really?” The artwork is reciprocal, a gateway in which I strive for a connection with others, I’m reaching an outstretched hand through painting and trying to say I want to make things better.

Also check out her Instagram to keep up with her work.

Jenipher Chandley says of her paintings (pictured above)- “My art is a testament to the strength and resilience of the human spirit”.

From the gallery website-

Jenipher Chandley is a representational artist working in her hometown of St. Petersburg Fl. Where she has raised her 4 children and is a proud new grandmother. She has earned degrees in Interior, and Graphic Design, from IADT Tampa. Jenipher is currently lead curator for Bar@548, She also has co-curated and exhibited in 100’s of shows throughout the Tampa Bay Area.

The story of love is the overarching theme in her work—the journey to find it, revel, cherish and protect it, the pain of losing it. She finds common ground where we are all connected, through nature, the human condition, and the energy all around us that drives us forward. Her artwork is real, sometimes raw, and emotionally charged, expressed through symbolism and poetic gestures. Jenipher brings her emotions and the entirety of her subconscious to the work, and through complete vulnerability uncover the strength to forge healing. She returns often to the divine feminine, to rediscover the beauty of inner power and resilience that conquers all. The work is vast in concept and style, while always human and relatable because our art should be as complex and ever-changing as we are.

Check out her website and Instagram for more.

Above are Marie Cummings colorful multimedia paintings. Check out her website and Instagram for more.

Her bio from the gallery’s website-

Marie Cummings was born in Detroit, Michigan. There she studied psychology and business at Wayne State University. She moved to Clearwater, Florida with her three daughters, where she embarked on a career as a Realtor. When her last daughter entered college, Marie decided to seek a new direction in her life: she wanted to explore the world of visual art. While studying Experimental Watermedia at the Dunedin Fine Arts Center (Dunedin, Florida), she also ventured into Creative Writing at St. Petersburg College (St. Petersburg, Florida). This dual experience served as a launching pad for a serious embrace of fine art from an outside-the-box viewpoint.

Since that time, Marie has focused on the creative potential of Watermedia. She finds deep, rich, bold hues intensely exciting. Marie thinks of her palette, brushes and paper as tools for play. Water and paint dance together in her studio, making forms that spark the imagination and speak to the heart. Her work is a form of meditation, an expression of her soul.

Marie recently taught Experimental Watermedia at the Dunedin Fine Arts Center—the same course that first inspired her to take the leap into the world of art. She also enjoys teaching beginning watercolor classes for adults who are beginning to dip their toes in the wellspring of their own creative resources. She takes a relaxed yet encouraging approach to instruction, giving her students the time, space and gentle guidance necessary to grow as artists.

Aimee Jones uses her background in feminist theory to create paintings that incorporate the human figure in domestic and botanical landscapes. Check out her website and Instagram for more.

Agueda Zabisky describes her abstract ceramic sculptures as “a reflection on who we are as human beings, how we deal with challenges, and our quest for rhythm and harmony at all times”.

From the gallery website-

I have been working with ceramic since 2005. It all starts with a block of clay that transforms until it takes shape. Understanding that each phase has its right time made me learn not only to model clay but also model my anxiety and opened new paths for me.

The continuous quest to understand who I am as an individual and the mystery of that internal strength that humans have, which makes them move forward, is what inspires me as an artist.

I seek to create visual narratives that can inspire and instigate the observer’s thinking.

My project: “Journey to Equilibrium” We are made of pieces (symbolized by geometric blocks) that we collect along the way. We are born with nothing and are given love, knowledge, intelligence, strength and courage. At the same time, we also acquire selfishness, fear, anger and much more. Sometimes, we manage to make connections and a few pieces find their way to complete themselves, generating states of euphoria and happiness. Other times, our blocks move away, we make mistakes, we feel lost, full of doubts and we think that nothing fits, and this causes us anguish, anxiety and sadness. Surprisingly, even confused, we may have fun but not joy. But deep down, there is something we can’t explain and that keeps us going. It is as if we knew that all our pieces need to come into harmony, and that’s our challenge. No one has the same blocks as each one of us, and no one can arrange them for us. Obstacles happen all the time, but they are nothing more than pieces that we have to organize and balance. We also learn it is not possible to do this all at once. There is a lot to be done and no instructions manual on how to do it. We are discovering along the way and building our life every moment. It is a continuous balance of everything we are adding to what we want to accomplish. Something enduring over time. And, if at any point of our journey, we manage to have many of our pieces organized and better connected, we will realize that we are getting wiser and more complete.

Also check out her Instagram.

This year the exhibition also included writer Troy Bernardo and creative multi-hyphenate Patrick Arthur Jackson who both created interactive pieces for the gallery.

For Bernardo’s piece (pictured above) he attached QR codes to several of the items seen above that bring you to his written work.

Jackson created a board for visitors to contribute post-it notes with five words describing their relationship with their fathers.

This exhibition will close this Sunday (7/16/23). This weekend is also Third Saturdays at Pinewood– a free event with activities at all three spaces- Creative Pinellas, Florida Botanical Gardens, and Heritage Village.

[praphit]

GHOST: Too Sexy for this Life

Normally, I'm foraging the landscape, looking for some good action or horror to munch on.

I spotted "The Pope's Exorcist". I said, "Look, everybody, it's Russell Crowe! -  He’s getting drunk and binding demons!" We got up to go, but got possessed by a spirit ourselves  - it's called laziness.

That and the spirit of being broke (being body slammed by tax season can make some folks question ticket prices :)

So, we sat back down, and stumbled upon the 1990's film "GHOST". I haven't watched this since I was a kid.

Yeah, it's time for a Back in the Day review!

If you want action - there it is. 

BOOM!

A LOT of action. Demi Moore might need a neck brace after all of that action. And the after-life scares most people, so it checks the boxes. Here we go:

Back in the day, you weren't going to get much sexier than Patrick Swayze.

And he knows it, that's why he gives the people what they want in the first scene of "Ghost" - he's swinging around a sledgehammer, with no shirt on.

That's right! Sam Wheat (Swayze) is shirtless, sweaty, dirty and madly in love with aspiring artist Molly (played by Demi Moore)

He's breaking down walls for his woman; that's love! His powers of sexy know no bounds:

Whether it's home improvement, or saving Molly from potentially falling out a window (y'all remember that angel scene? 

- why they're trying to bring the angel statue in through the window and not via elevator/stairs is still a mystery to me).

Oh and there's an scene when Sexy Sam Wheat wakes up to that angel statue in his bed. When I was a kid, that scene kinda scared me. Idk why. It’s a weird needless scene. It's just an angel statue succumbing to Sam Wheat's powers.   Awwwwyeah.

There's that iconic scene when Molly is listening to "Unchained Melody" and working vigorously on a piece of art.

  Sam Wheat saunters in and bleeps it all up. Saying "Sorry, baby. Was that important? I see you worked long and hard on that. But, it's time I worked long and hard on you. Awwwwyeah." As lame as that line is, he's so sexy, and in love, and supportive of her that it doesn't matter. He can even get away with not saying the words "I love you" to her. That wouldn't fly with most women at that stage of relationship.

Rude, right?? For her to say "Sam Wheat. I love you." And for him to always only reply "Ditto". Most people would be like "WTF kinda response is that?!" But, Molly is possessed by the most dangerous spirit of all - love:)

It was all so perfect, but then this dude was envious of all of that sexiness and love.

  He said to himself "Damn you, Sam Wheat! No woman will look at me because you're around. I want some lovin! What about me?! When do I get booty??! Aaaaaaaah!" He also wanted some money, so long story short:

he found a dude named Willie to do some dirty work for him,

 and now sexy Sam Wheat is dead.

When one is a ghost, we learn that the powers of sexiness aren't much good; the whole lack of a body thing. So, Sam must find Whoopi Goldberg (Oda Mae Brown),

 and use her body to get REVENGE, and to save his love, Molly.

With Whoopi's help, Sam learns that there's more to life (and death) than simply being sexy. This lesson learned enables him to become SUPER SAM! 

Out there kickin ass in the streets! - with his new ghost powers!

"Ghost" is as good as I remember it being. Demi Moore is good in it,  AND I forgot how good she is at that I-might-cry-at-any-moment-look.

Tony Goldwyn is also good (dude who was envious of Sam's sexiness)! - good at making us hate him, but still. And then there's the comedy duo of Whoopi and Patrick Swayze. I mean it. They’re so funny together. I wish we could have gotten more movies with those two.

My only complaint is that it's a lil longer than it needs to be. But, that's mainly due to Patrick Swayze's sexiness. His love/sex/foreplay scenes go on forever. I imagine that the director and editors simply didn't have it in them to say "No more"; they were too turned on.

Only 76%  from critics on RT. That was a surprise to me. I saw some complaints of wanting a pure romance story. I saw some complaints about racial humor (not that the humor was racist, but that some didn't want race mentioned). I saw some complaints about the overall message of death/after-life. Not many technical complaints though. So Idk.

... I will say that there's some weirdness:

- Sam using Oda Mae's body to get it on with Molly.

- A subway poltergeist that everyone seems to be fine with (It IS NY, so not as bad as the rat problem, I suppose)

- Heaven is a lil bit lax when it came to gathering souls. Demons would come for the dead, quickly, saying "Nah, your ass is done. We're going to Hell RIGHT NOW!" Heaven was more "Oh, you still have things to do? Ok, well, we'll be back after you've sufficiently caused chaos with your ghost powers."

But, all of that makes me love this movie more. Grade: A-

I still want to see "The Pope's Exorcist".

I hear that Russ is great, but the movie is MEH, like any other exorcism movie that's not "The Exorcist" or The Conjuring" Perhaps if they were to take a page from "Ghost"'s book, and add romance and some comedy. There needs to be more of that. More movies like "Ghost" please, Hollywood.

Russell Crowe is in love with a demon (played by Maya Rudolph). She possesses (... we need a serious actor to keep it grounded)... maybe Viola Davis. Russ gets on top of her... and IT IS HOT! And he says "I see you in there. And I love, baby. BUT, I'VE GOTTA SEND YOU TO HELL!"

[watchmegetobsessed]

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 2)

i quite liked this story and thought it totally had potential for more, so i’ve cooked up a part 2, continuing the idea. i have no clear plan with this, just enjoyed taking the story further, but i might turn it into a proper series if you guys are enjoying the concept!

pairing:  Harry x actress!reader

word count: ~3.2k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

The car comes to a halt and you look up from your phone after being so occupied with texts you’ve been ignoring all afternoon.

“We’ve arrived, Miss,” The driver, Lawrence informs you in his usual, polite manner, looking at you through the mirror.

“Oh, thank you so much,” you breathe out grabbing your purse from the seat next to you. “I don’t think I’ll take too long, I’m not really in the mood to party,” you let him know, quickly running your hand through your hair before getting out, already knowing paparazzi is waiting for all guests at the entrance probably.

“Had a long day?” he asks with a soft smile.

“Kind of,” you sigh nodding. “I’ll text you when I’ll feel like heading home soon, alright?”

“Perfect. Have a great night, Miss,” Lawrence nods.

“Thank you,” you nod at him before opening the door and getting out of the car. Strategically, Lawrence stopped just a few buildings away from the club, so you wouldn’t be attacked right away, emerging from the car. This gives you enough time to fix your dress and avoid your private parts to end up on the tabloids. Not something you want to include in your career, if you’re being honest.

Shutting the door closed you head towards the club that has quite a long line of people waiting outside, though you have no idea why. If they are not on the list, there’s no way they’ll get inside, it’s a private party.

As you approach the entrance, people start to recognize you quite quickly and you hear your name coming from all direction, but you just flash a smile in their way, continuing to walk with the intention of getting inside as fast as possible.

Just as you expected, paparazzi are already waiting at the entrance and they start flashing their cameras in your way right away, throwing all kinds of questions at you that are left completely ignored.

The bouncer checks your name on the list and lets you inside without a fuss and you’re happy to leave the madness behind and mingle in the crowd of familiar faces.

Tonight is the celebration of the birthday of a good friend, a quite old friend of yours. Florence and you met quite some years ago, when both of you were only trying your luck in the industry, working hard to make yourselves a name. Now you are both are in the inner circle of Hollywood, piling iconic roles on your resumes together. So much has changed, people keep coming and going in your life, but the two of you managed to stay close and keep each other grounded when it was needed.

You keep saying hello to the people you know as you make your way through the guests, hugging a few guests, asking if they have seen Florence and they all point towards the bar. Unsurprisingly, you find the birthday girl right there, with a group of people circling around her as the bartender places a row of shots to the counter and her eyes light up at the sight of all the alcohol.

“Not even surprised you are already plastered,” you grin at her and she squeals upon seeing you join the little circle. Throwing her arms around you she jumps at you mumbling her greeting.

“I’m so happy you’re here!” she breathes out, clearly over a few drinks at this point. “I feel like we haven’t seen each other in ages!”

“It happens when we are both working on a movie at the same time, in different cities,” you chuckle giving her a look.

This past month has been rather busy, you were in Atlanta finishing up filming your latest movie while Florence was in Palm Springs, working on Don’t Worry Darling, she barely made it back to the city to her own birthday party, apparently they wrapped filming just two days ago so it was a close call.

“You have to take a shot with me!” she urges, already grabbing two shots from the bar and handing you one of them, not even waiting for your answer.

“Cheers to the birthday girl!” you hold your glass up after everyone else grabbed a shot, everyone around wishes her a happy birthday again before sending down the alcohol.

You can’t help the grimace that pulls on your face as the liquor burns down your throat. It’s been a while since the last time you had anything other than a few glasses of wine, it’ll take some time to get used to the stomach churning taste.

As the host of the party and the birthday girl, Florence’s presence is in high demand, so you don’t get to spend too much time with her, but you don’t blame her. Ordering a longer drink for you, sticking with some tequila based cocktail as you mingle in the crowd of guests.

Luckily, there are quite a lot familiar faces and you don’t have to linger around the club on your own. You move to a booth at the side with Sydney, a producer you and Florence both worked together previously. She is pretty new in the world of films, but she surely is a talent and you can’t wait for everyone to realize what a blessing she and her art is. You’re joined by her girlfriend, Emma and the three of you are deep in conversation, sharing the funniest stories that happened to you lately and surprisingly, you are genuinely having a good time. You really weren’t in the mood for a party after such a long and frustrating day, having scrunched in three auditions to one day because your manager messed the dates up. When you finished with the third ones, you wanted nothing else than to just sink into a nice bath, have a glass of wine and go to bed early, making your friends’ point of you being a grandma quite valid. However you didn’t have the heart to cancel on Florence, but now that you’ve had some alcohol buzzing in your system and some good company, you don’t regret coming at all.

Once you get to the end of your drink you head back to the bar to have another one, not feeling like leaving just yet. Pushing your way through the people, some keep saying hi to you and you greet everyone back with an instinct, even if you don’t know them. Something you’ve grown to do over your years being in the spotlight.

Standing in line, just like everyone else, you patiently wait to get to the front, when you feel someone bump against you from behind.

“Excuse me—Oh! If it isn’t my favorite Never Have I Ever game partner!”

Your eyes are met with a pair of green ones and a dimpled smile, you can’t help but chuckle as you turn to greet Harry.

“Hi there! Long time no see!” you smile as he pulls you into a side-hug and stands with you in the line.

“You know, maybe you would’ve seen me earlier if you actually gave me your number,” he comments with a sly smile and you have nothing to defend yourself with, he is completely right.

That day the two of you met on The Ellen Show you were actually planning to give him your number, but once your part of the filming ended your manager called you about something urgent and you couldn’t wait for him to finish as well, leaving the studio without ever giving him the chance to even ask for your number. You felt guilty and a little disappointed, but thought your paths would sooner or later cross somehow and it seems like you were right.

“I’m sorry about that. I had some papers to sign before the office closed, I had to leave,” you apologize truthfully and he nods understanding.

“S’alright. I was a little bummed, but I get it.”

“So what are you doing here?” you ask, moving forward in the line, getting closer to the front. Harry gives you a quick look that you can’t quite read before answering.

“I uhh—Florence and I filmed together last month.”

That’s when it clicks. She told you and you read about it, but you tend to forget these kind of things, not having enough capacity to keep everything in mind, only restricting it to the most important stuff.

“Oh, right! Yeah, sorry. Totally slipped my mind. Sorry, I sounded like I live under a rock,” you awkwardly chuckle, feeling a little ashamed that you didn’t remember, when Florence even mentioned it herself before she travelled to Palm Springs, but you were running on caffeine and protein bars between takes, it’s a luck you didn’t even forget your own name after those busy weeks.

“No, s’alright. Nice to know not everyone is drowning in the content that’s been put out of me lately,” he chuckles lowly. “You look lovely, by the way,” he nods at you, eyes running down your body quickly, before they return to your gaze.

“Oh, thank you,” you breathe out looking down at yourself, as if you forgot what you were wearing. It’s a little, black Gucci dress, quite vintage with some embroidered floral patterns along the slightly daring neckline. “It’s Gucci,” you tell him with a knowing smirk.

“Oh!”

“Know you are obsessed with it,” you add with a chuckle, seemingly surprising him with your knowledge about him.

“Someone did some research about me then?”

“I’ll admit, I might have searched your name one of those nights after I had a nice glass of wine.”

“And what else did you find out about me?” he arches an eyebrow at you, making your cheeks heating up. You shouldn’t have admitted that you searched him, he’ll think you’re some kind of stalker, which you are not, you just like to catch up on things sometimes. Though you are clearly a fan of his music and you know about his career vaguely, you haven’t been keeping an eye on him that closely lately, only because you didn’t have the time. However after meeting him at the taping, he was stuck on your mind for days before you gave in and checked out what he’s been up to lately and went through some in-depth articles about him from the past years, closing the line with his latest Vogue issue.

“Nothing shocking,” you simply answer and luckily, you are next up at the bar. You ask for another cocktail and Harry chimes in, adding a beer to the order.

“I hope you know I won’t let you leave until you give me your number this time,” he smirks at you cheekily, making you chuckle.

“I never said I would give it to you.” Wanting to play a little you shrug innocently, earning a stunned look.

“Making me work for it? Alright,” he nods, trying his best to hold his grin back.

The bartender comes back with the drinks and Harry is quick to whip his card out and pay for yours as well. You’re not surprised when he follows you back to the booth to Sydney and Emma. They both greet you with bright smiles upon arriving with Harry.

“This is Sydney and Emma. Syd and I worked together a while ago. Ladies, this is—“ You start the introduction, but Sydney cuts you off quickly.

“Harry Styles. You don’t have to introduce him to us,” she chuckles shaking hand with the fourth guest at the table. “I was a big One Direction fan,” she adds with a chuckle and that’s a new information. As a former fan girl, she is holding herself quite alright in the presence of her idol.

“Oh, nice!” Harry beams, genuinely looking delighted at the information.

“Her playlists have at least one One Direction song on them still this day,” Emma laughs shaking her head, while Syd just shrugs innocently.

The four of you are quick to engage in a conversation about music, mostly about what you listened to when you were teenagers and you are having some laughs at the odd taste you all used to have.

“I think my most played song was Crazy by Britney Spears. I was obsessed with that song,” you admit and Emma groans throwing her hands in the air.

“I loved that song! Even learned the choreography!” she shares, making everyone laugh around the table.

“I bet you did too,” Harry grins in your way over his half empty beer.

“Totally did not,” you scoff with a pretentious grimace that makes it clear that you in fact did.

“I would give an arm to see you dance to that song,” he sighs with an amused grin and you just chuckle, taking another sip from your drink.

At one point Florence joins the booth, buzzing from all the birthday shots she’s been constantly taking, but making sure you all are having a good time.

“I see you guys met again!” she beams looking at you and Harry sitting next to each other. “Y/N, wanna hear something funny?” she smirks at you with glistening eyes.

“Always,” you chuckle softly.

“Once on set, I caught Harry stalking your Instagram.” The man in talk almost chokes on his beer as Florence starts laughing, clearly enjoying how she just busted her co-star, but you are having a blast at how nervous her comment got him and you find the story quite flattering.

“Flo, I think you had enough to drink,” Harry tells her, urging her to leave the booth, but she is way too caught up in getting him into trouble.

“Are you ashamed she now knows you were checking out her sexy photos for that perfume campaign she did last year?” she continues, giving away even more details. Your eyebrows run up as you look at Harry, who is desperately trying to avoid your burning gaze.

“Oh, so you’re a fond of my pictures?” you tease him, his cheeks turning redder with each passing moment.

“I mean… You looked really good.”

“And quite half naked, only covering myself with a huge perfume bottle,” you add chuckling, enjoying it probably a little too much than you should, but Harry has been so confident, flirting with you, it’s funny to see him so flustered all of a sudden.

Harry lets out a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his neck while Florence taps his shoulder, saying something that sounded like ‘good luck, man’ before she moves over to the next group of people.

“I wasn’t stalking, your profile just popped up and—“

“Harry,” you stop him with a chuckle. “It’s fine, I was just messing with you.”

“Way to make me a wreck, Y/N,” he shoots you a narrow-eyed look, but you can see the smirk pulling on his lips.

“If it makes you feel better I checked your profile a few times too,” you admit and once again, he seems surprised.

“It does make me feel better,” he nods, his sly smirk growing wider with each passing moment he spends staring at you.

Though you’ve been enjoying the night so far you are running low on energy, so when you see it’s already past midnight you send a text to Lawrence letting him know you are planning to leave soon.

Luckily, Florence is at one of the booths near yours, so you excuse yourself from your table, walking over to her to say your goodbye.

“Leaving already?” she pouts, returning your hug.

“I’ve had a long day, I wouldn’t want to be the grumpy guest to ruin others’ night,” you tell her with an apologetic smile and she nods understanding.

“I’m happy I saw you. We need to do something sometime soon!”

“Sure thing. I’ll have a looser schedule in the upcoming months. Call me whenever you are around and free,” you tell her kissing her cheek and giving her hand a soft squeeze. “Happy birthday once more.” “Thank you babe!” she cheers as you let go of each other.

Walking back to your booth you say goodbye to Sydney and Emma, making the same promise to meet up with them sometime soon. When you turn to Harry he is already up on his feet and offers to walk you out.

“Just to the exit. There are a shit ton of paparazzi outside,” you tell him and he nods, placing a hand to your lower back, ushering you through the crowd. The two of you stop near the exit since Lawrence hasn’t replied to you that he has arrived and you definitely don’t want to wait outside.

“So, are you gonna leave without giving me your number this time as well?” he asks tilting his head to the side as he hides his hands in his pockets lazily.

“Maybe I’m just trying to see if fate is gonna throw you in my way again,” you tease him, but reach for your phone in your purse. “Send yourself a text,” you tell him handing him the device.

He doesn’t try to hide the satisfied grin as he types his number in and sends a quick text to himself so he has your number. Handing it back you just take it and check if Lawrence has texted you. Right at that moment the screen lights up with a short ‘I’ve arrived, Miss’ text and you slide the phone back into your purse.

“Well, it’s been nice seeing you again, Harry,” you say your goodbye and stepping closer you engage in a short, but tight hug.

“You too, Y/N,” he smiles down at you. “Never have I ever had the number of an Emmy nominated actress’ number,” he smirks making you laugh.

“Drink up, Styles,” you tell him cheekily before you walk away, out of the club.

Lawrence is parked right in front of the building and you try to shield your vision from all the flashes as you get into the back seat as fast as possible.

“Hello, Lawrence!” you greet the man in a very delighted mood and he senses the change in you.

“Had a great evening, Miss?” he asks as he leaves from the club and heads to your apartment’s building.

“I did,” you nod biting into your bottom lip. Reaching into your purse you pull your phone out to check the text Harry sent himself.

You can’t help the chuckle that leaves your mouth when you see the short message he sent to his contact that he just saved under Harry S.

“I promise I won’t ghost you.” That’s what the text reads and as you are looking at the conversation you see the bubble popping up that signals that he is typing right now.

“So nice of you. Please keep that promise!” His text appears on the screen and you chuckle under your breath.

“Cheeky.” You write back.

“Maybe, but now I have evidence. Don’t even try to put me on your ghosted list!”

“Will think about it…” you write back with a sly smile before you lock the phone and put it away, letting your head rest against the back of the seat, eyes closing as you can’t wipe the smile off your face.

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The Making (and Re-Making) of Timothée Chalamet

BY DANIEL RILEY / PHOTOGRAPHY BY RENELL MEDRANO

He found superstardom and artistic acclaim instantaneously. Now, with unique candor, the actor of a generation reveals what it’s like to come of age in our very upside-down era.

The day after the Oscars in 2018, everything that had changed, changed back again. Timothée Chalamet had spent the previous months becoming known. He had acted in a film, Call Me by Your Name, which was critically acclaimed as well as an instant object of cultish admiration—and his performance had made him, at 22, the youngest person nominated for best actor in 80 years. He had, simultaneously, been transformed into the rarest of pop confections—fawned over by younger women, older men, and every demographic in between. And he had traveled without pause on the awards circuit since early autumn, back and forth from New York and Los Angeles, practically living out of the first-class lounge and the lobbies of the Bowery Hotel and the Sunset Tower.

But the day after the Oscars, the moment the clock struck midnight and his carriage turned into a pumpkin, Chalamet was right back where he'd been before the whole fantasy had begun: in New York, with no credit card, no apartment, and no longer any structured demands on his time and attention. Outsiders who had witnessed the arrival may have regarded this 22-year-old as being in possession of wealth and clout, but he was suddenly back on his own dime, which amounted to maybe five or six dimes, reticent to stay with family and friends whose lives he felt he was disrupting with all his new baggage. Of course they couldn't possibly comprehend the chemical reaction that had just transpired. They were still hydrogen and oxygen, and Timothée Chalamet was all of a sudden water.

And so, for three weeks, he disappeared into the wallpaper of the Lower East Side. Specifically, the wallpaper of a little apartment that the French street artist JR kept for visiting collaborators. Chalamet holed up against the ugly New York weather of late winter, and did the only thing he could think to do: learn lines. The King would be his first film since his pivot into fame, and he was anxious to get back to acting after such a long stretch of merely talking about acting. Even more, he needed to blot out the unrecognizable icon the internet was already beginning to make of Timothée Chalamet.

I met Timothée for the first time at the onset of that initial blush of fame, when all of us were being introduced to an actor who had both rare talent and the un-engineerable it that chings like an audible sparkle off a jewel in a cartoon. I wrote a story for this magazine about that first chapter in the arrival of a film star. This is the second chapter, the story of what's happened since. It wasn't evident yet, but those three weeks in New York in 2018 were the starting line of what would amount to a 30-month stretch of four new films, two new Oscar campaigns, some refreshing romance, an incessant awareness of the confusing image of himself as—what else to call it?—an emerging global movie star, and a constant concerted effort to figure himself out as both a young actor and a young person in the unceasing spotlight.

This summer, we were talking about all this on a little screened porch out back of a modest cabin in Woodstock when Chalamet recalled those three weeks. “My world had flipped,” he said. “But if I kicked it with my friends, things could still feel the same. I was trying to marry these two realities. But I don't even think I knew that was what I was doing. That dissonance was real. And thank God. Because I feel like if I'd caught up to it immediately, I would've been a psychopath or something.”

Out on that porch, I asked him a version of the same question over and over: What had the last two and a half years been like for him, as a human being? His response was a multi-hour monologue that I would characterize as: intense. He expressed unadulterated gratitude for his great good fortune. But he also expressed confusion and tension. He is firmly in a moment when he is concerned that everything he says or does or thinks will look or sound wrong. He backtracked a lot (“Wait, let me try that again”). He jumped on and off the record (“Sorry, sorry, sorry, this is just for you…”). It was important for me to know, he said, in order to communicate the context of his experience, if not the specifics.

.

“I want to get back to the undefined space again. I'm chasing a feeling.” 

He lives in the same world all of us do—only with the potential for adoration and blowback turned up to 11. He seems, at once, to trust his own instincts while also second-guessing most thoughts the moment he's convinced of them. It is an exhausting way to be. At times, when he was up on his feet, in his T-shirt and shorts, pacing around the little screened porch, hands tugging at his mane, I could feel the gears grinding to the point of smoke. He wanted so desperately to get this right, to express what he really meant, to feel the right feelings, to live the right way, to be the right kind of man for the people in his life that he knows he can and should be, despite everything else, despite the noise. He's doing his best.

Timothée had rented the house for the month of July, as a little escape but also as an opportunity. He was slated to play Bob Dylan in a new biopic. No telling when it might film, given everything, but for now he had more time to himself than he'd had in years, which meant time to maybe huff the vapors of some Woodstock Dylanalia. “It's not like I'm suffering from lack of connection otherwise,” he said, “but it just really feels like I'm connecting to something here.” When he arrived, he discovered that his little house had a wall devoted to Dylan—to the albums he'd recorded in the run-up to his timeout in Woodstock in the late '60s. Timothée relished happening upon that wall his first day in the Airbnb. The universe offered signs if you nudged it toward coherence.

He knew what the cabin might seem like—like some young actor taking himself way too seriously, “treating himself like an artist.” But he was back and forth between Woodstock and New York all month, bombing up and down the interstate in the Honda sedan he'd rented from Enterprise. (He learned how to drive on Beautiful Boy.) All the while Dylan was top of mind. Timothée was late to the party but helplessly obsessed. He quoted him generously. He fixated on both the art and the persona. He marveled at the way the artist could be out there so much, making such an impact, while also keeping the real person obscured behind the music, the characters in the songs, the language. In the city, we spent time walking around Greenwich Village, Timothée in an identity-concealing face mask and bucket hat and sunglasses, able to search out old Dylan addresses in an invisibility cloak. He ran from site to site, with notes he'd kept while reading Dylan's memoir, Chronicles: Volume One, barreling up stairs and peering into windows. He was a 24-year-old actor, taking advantage of the pause between the second phase of his career and the third and thinking hard, daily, about how to play the next few years.

He rented the house in Woodstock, too, so that he could have a little space all to himself. He craved the privacy to try things and to fuck up. To make small mistakes now, out of view, when it was just him, when he was still young, so that he didn't have to worry about it later. At one point, he stood up and slapped an empty water bottle off the table so that it clattered against the screen of the porch. “I want to know what that sounds like!” he shouted. He hadn't taken many missteps yet, and it made him uncomfortable, wary, that he would someday. The month felt like a controlled burn. In the most innocent way, that was what Woodstock was about. He got to practice his guitar and harmonica in peace, cook himself his “shitty pasta” without judgment, permit himself space to keep growing up. So much was in the spotlight now. But in that cabin, he could sit on the couch for a while and re-familiarize himself with “the crease in the cushion” that he'd lost touch with over the past few years. The quiet. The stillness. That sunlight there coming through the trees. He could breathe a little. Sleep a little. It had all been so good for him so far. But the goodness made him anxious. When will the other shoe drop? Not there. He'd deleted Instagram off his phone. He'd stopped posting on Twitter. He was reading again. Listening to albums all the way through. Slowing down. What was it like to have lived these past two and a half years? It was like a lot of things, but here at the end of it, it just felt good to sleep.

Back at the start of the 30-month run that led to Woodstock, Timothée turned over the keys to JR's studio and went to Europe to shoot The King. The role was like none of the films he'd just received notice for. “Here I am on set with all these Hungarian men with scars on their faces, and they're like, ‘You're the center of the shot, you're the badass! And we know you tried to put on all this weight, but like: You're wearing all the chain mail.’ If they took the chain mail off, my throat is still this big…” There he was trying to keep in perspective this new fame, this new validation, this new temptation toward ego, all while being thrust into the center of “something called The motherfucking King.”

When he returned to New York that summer, he skipped off the atmosphere again with another awkward reentry. One moment he was on the battlefield of the biggest-budget drama he'd yet experienced, the next he was “back in New York, on the A/C/E at Port Authority, just like, What the fuck is going on?” It was a pattern over the past few years. The calmly intense immersion into work, the “thud of lost purpose,” as he called it, when the work ended. It happened the same way in the fall of 2018 with Little Women—reunited with Greta Gerwig and Saoirse Ronan and the crew from Lady Bird. There was just an ease with which he plugged in with them, “a vocabulary of friendship” that existed there.

Timothée's career thus far has been filled with these sorts of friendships, notably those across generational lines. Even a casual observer may have picked up on it. Those glommings-on to older people in his life. Armie Hammer. Kid Cudi. Greta Gerwig. When I asked Gerwig to comment on the arc she's witnessed up close, from Lady Bird to Little Women, she wrote a note about “my friend Timmy”: “It's hard for me now, because I'm his friend, to see him strategically.… I love talking to him. We can get on the phone and talk for an hour or more without even realizing it, just skipping from subject to subject, making jokes, me feeling old and happy and him being funny and anxious and delightfully all over the place.” It's an odd gap he finds himself in—forced to be more accelerated than most 24-year-olds while also having not lived enough life yet to fit in absolutely with the people he enjoys spending time with most. On a recent visit with his grandmother in New York, she surprised him by saying, “I wish you would hang out with people your own age more often. It must be so weird.” It made him chuckle. Even she'd noticed. She might be right. But how could he resist the orbit of these creative geniuses he'd so long admired and who were filled with so much knowingness?

“I'm confident in the way I'm trying to approach things now, how I'm setting up the angles.”

In the winter of 2019, another Oscar campaign left him feeling disoriented all over again. Everything, Timothée said, was exactly the same as the first time except him. He'd put in this undeniable performance, but maybe one that sparked a little less for Oscar voters than that first kiss with a stranger. Now he was in all the same rooms as before, the same lunches and dinners and cocktail parties, shaking hands with the same Academy members who showed up at everything to get a little nibble of the freshest biscuit, growling ominous things at him, like: You don't have my vote yet.… “I really don't know how to talk about this stuff, man,” he told me, “because my experience of it is at the center of it. There's just some dark energy at these things, and this time around I felt like I could see it. And yet I'm thinking, Why isn't this going the exact same way?”

He wasn't nominated for Beautiful Boy, but the fresh air came, as it always seemed to, on the set of the next film: Wes Anderson's The French Dispatch. The movie is about a fictional English-language magazine (based on The New Yorker of the midcentury) and is structurally organized like the magazine itself, featuring short pieces at the “front” of the movie and a triptych of long features at the back. Timothée costars in the second feature, about a May '68-style student-protest leader named Zeffirelli and the middle-aged magazine journalist (Frances McDormand) assigned to report on his cause.

“I had seen Timmy in Lady Bird and Call Me by Your Name,” Anderson wrote to me, “and I never had the inconvenience of ever thinking of anybody else for this role even for a second. I knew he was exactly right, and plus: He speaks French and looks like he might actually have walked right out of an Éric Rohmer movie. Some time around 1985. A slow train from Paris, a backpack, a beach for 10 days in bad weather. He's not any kind of type—but the New Wave would have had a happy place for him.”

The privilege of early fame that Timothée most appreciates is the ability to choose the directors he works with. His role in The French Dispatch is a minor one, but it's a Wes Anderson movie—it's as simple as that. Due to the episodic nature of the film, some of the other “stories” were already being shot when Timothée arrived in Angoulême, a town that reminded him of the one he spent time in growing up, “so French it was like a caricature,” he said. Timothée had the opportunity, then, to hang with some of the elders he doesn't act with, like Jeffrey Wright, Bill Murray, and other seasoned members of the Wes Anderson troupe. “It was immediately as if it wasn't his first time with our group,” Anderson explained. “He was somehow already part of the family. The youngest member.”

Timothée had seen McDormand around for years, but he'd never felt like she was someone he could approach. “We'd shared an agent,” he said. “And it was no disrespect to me, but I hadn't been in any movies yet. What business do I have talking to Frances McDormand? But now, and this is the gift of acting, I really feel myself coming into my own as a community of thespians, as opposed to actors. And man, that sounds pretentious, but I just mean it's not about the fucked-up ladder of success and un-success, and being the guy or the girl, and then being off the list… That's not what I'm talking about with her on set, that's not what she's espousing to me. She's talking about a long career. She's talking about marriage with a creative partner and consultant. So to be able to have conversations like that and then a story line in the movie where they're kind of on an equal field? Even if she's an experienced, wise woman and he's an idealistic, naive boy? That's the exact relationship of exchange I want with my intergenerational peers.”

There's a particularly memorable scene in The French Dispatch, reporter and subject having fallen into bed together, when there's a knock at the door. Timothée looks at McDormand, anxious about who's there, mortified when McDormand informs him it's his mother. There, in that scene, we see all the desire of Zeffirelli—this energetic young man with all the right intentions, who strains to be intellectually and emotionally riper—clash with the reality of his age. It felt familiar to me, and no doubt to Timothée. It was some of my favorite acting in the film. I asked McDormand if there was anything in their scenes that struck her as particularly mature for someone his age. “Maturity is not something a fellow actor is the most concerned with,” she said. “Playfulness, discipline, and rigor. I do recall, during our scene in bed, the crew responding to his work with true respect for his focus. He was bringing it and we sat up and paid attention.” Anderson added: “I think my favorite moments with Timmy during a scene were the ones where I saw him pause and find a new attack. A new angle, which he does very clearly and assertively. What I love is how he will surprise you with something new, completely unexpected and perfect.”

One night, while McDormand was shooting a scene without Timothée, her husband, Joel Coen—he of the Brothers—asked Timothée if he wanted to go out for a steak. Over dinner, Timothée grilled Coen about Dylan. He knew Coen was a fan and had steeped in it on Inside Llewyn Davis. “He almost seemed weary of even talking about this stuff, it was so big and potent,” Timothée told me. But Coen noted that the truly incredible thing about Dylan was not so much the quality, which was obvious, but the quantity—the rapid amount of work in short succession, one groundbreaking album after another, in those early years. That takeaway resonated deeply with Timothée. Especially as he reflected on it from summer 2020, during the pause, during the moment of no work. That gush from Dylan made him want to work—harder, longer, better, more.

A week after our conversation in Woodstock, Timothée and I were in New York City, sitting on a bench along the Hudson, talking about what he's looking for when work resumes. “I want to get back to the undefined space again,” he said. “I'm chasing a feeling. When you think you're doing some great thing, it's probably something you've done before, and when you really fucking have no clue, that's when you're doing something on the edge, good or bad.”

Timothée's mask had slipped down his face as he was saying this, and two young women, about his age, approached cautiously. “Would you mind if we got a…,” they asked, and he hopped up without hesitation. “How'd you recognize me?” he said, friendly, but genuinely curious, as if he hadn't just been shouting about art in a voice that sounded a lot like Laurie from Little Women or Timmy from late-night shows.

“Was it the scrawny limbs or the hair?” I asked him as he sat back down.

“Definitely the first.”

From France, last spring, it was straight to Hungary—right back to the exact apartment in Budapest he'd stayed in while shooting The King—to start work on Dune. Very few actors had become as famous without a blockbuster. And while he'd really gotten it down how to act on an indie set, how to make every second and every take count, he knew this would be something altogether different. It wasn't just the shoot that would prove taxing. A film of Dune's scale would likely be the can opener to a whole other stratum of Hollywood prominence.

Director Denis Villeneuve told me Timothée was his “first and only choice” to play Paul Atreides, “the one name on the page.” When they met to discuss the prospect, Villeneuve told Timothée how happy he was to finally meet the young actor. And Timothée had to remind him that they'd met before, when Timothée read for Villeneuve's Prisoners. “ ‘Of course!’ ” Villeneuve remembered. “He did a great audition, but he didn't physically fit the part. He was probably swearing at me because I didn't take him.” Timothée was party to so many stories like that one—glancing interactions with these heroes of his before he'd broken through. It reminded me of the relationship between freshmen and seniors in high school. The freshmen remember everything about the seniors; the seniors hardly notice the freshmen. But we all become peers eventually.

“I felt there was one being on this planet right now that would be able to portray Paul Atreides,” Villeneuve said—referring to the hero of the 1965 Frank Herbert novel, who transforms from an unassuming heir into a messiah figure, a charismatic outsider and commander of men and women (and sandworms). I read Dune for the first time this summer and was shocked by the source material, how much I'd consumed in culture that had borrowed from it. Star Wars. Alien. The Matrix. Game of Thrones. Paul, therefore, is a type we're familiar with but also possessing singular characteristics Villeneuve wanted Timothée for: “He has a deep, deep intelligence in the eyes. Something you cannot fake. The kid is brilliant. Very intellectual, very strong. And you see that in the eyes. He also has a very old soul. You feel that he has already lived through several lives. And at the same time, he looks so young on camera. Sometimes he'd look almost 14 years old. He has this kind of general youth in his features and the contrast with the old-soul quality in his eyes—it's a kid that knows more about life than his age. Finally: He has that beautiful charisma, the charisma of a rock star. That Paul will lead the whole population of a planet later. Timothée has that kind of instant charisma onscreen that you can find only sometimes in the Old Hollywood stars from the '20s. There's something of a romantic beauty to him. A cross of aristocracy and being a bum at the same time. I mean, Timothée is Paul Atreides for me. It was a big relief that he agreed, because I had no plan b.”

“If I get hit by a truck next week, I'm looking at 20 to 23, I don't know if you can top that.”

I asked Villeneuve if he noticed Timothée struggling at all to adjust to the larger-scale production. “It didn't show when he was on set, but I think for him the big thing was to learn how to create his own bubble on set. So that he would not have to try to be the friend of everyone. When you're on a smaller set, when there's 25 people, you can be friendly with 25 people. When there's 800 people around, you cannot be friends with 800 people.” He chuckled. “It's too much. So how to save your energy, how to focus, how to give himself permission to be in his bubble and make sure that his bubble is respected.”

As ever, Timothée had a special affinity with those people on set who were a little older, a little wiser. Villeneuve said Timothée was constantly speaking with him and his wife in this open, vulnerable way about his concerns, his fears, how to deal with certain pressures. Villeneuve also described for me Timothée's relationships with his fellow actors, particularly the trio of Josh Brolin, Oscar Isaac, and Jason Momoa. “I felt like Timothée was deeply seduced—or maybe not seduced, but I just felt it was like a kid being with older brothers,” Villeneuve said. “He was younger, he was the little one on set, and everybody loved him. There's a scene in the movie where Timothée runs into the arms of Jason Momoa, and Jason grabs him like a puppy and lifts him into the air like he was a feather. And that's real! They really loved each other. It was very beautiful to see this young man being influenced by these people he admires.”

“His positive energy is infectious,” Zendaya, his nearest peer in the film, told me. “He really is so much fun to be around. We have very similar humor, and we can keep a joke going for a long time, but when the cameras start rolling and it's time to work, you can see it's game time, and he just taps into this brilliant intensity. It's awesome to witness.” Villeneuve underlined the energy as well, describing for me just having seen Timothée the night before we spoke, and marveling at “that beautiful, strong candor.”

“I will say that looking at Timothée working, I had a deep feeling that I was watching the birth of something,” Villeneuve added. “Not that it's for me—I say that with humility, because I feel that birth in all the movies he's done so far. I'm feeling it's someone that has insane potential. When I say potential, I don't want to reduce what he's doing right now, not at all. It's just that sometimes you are in front of somebody and you have the feeling you are in contact with a strong artist and that artist, his identity is still growing, building itself, learning its boundaries, learning how to protect some part of it. I think that we are witnessing something beautiful right now.”

At the end of summer 2019, Timothée finally resurfaced from Planet Dune. He had been on social media only sporadically while shooting for most of 2019, and so, for his vast base of fans, it was an overdue glimpse of the object of their affection. First up was the Venice Film Festival and the premiere of The King. There were clothes and Kid Cudi cameos and charming red-carpet interviews. It was an example of the sort of stretch, in the gaps between shoots, when Timothée could indulge his passions for hip-hop and fashion and all these things he'd loved all his life that were suddenly accessible. It was another of the delirious disorientations of the past few years—the way that people who were once subjects of his intense fandom were suddenly a part of his life as friends or acquaintances happy to have him around. He might still embarrass himself at times, helplessly rapping back lyrics to his hip-hop heroes or gushing like a broken dam about new music or clothes or art made by the makers in his life, but they were cool with him so long as he actually kept his cool.

Timothée also spent the end of last summer promoting The King, alongside his costar Lily-Rose Depp, whom he'd been dating for about a year. He is serious about keeping his former relationship with Depp to himself, but he did share one very sweet, very funny, very sad anecdote that encapsulates the spectrum of great and terrible that accompanies the private life of someone new to mega-fame like Timothée.

After Venice, he and Lily-Rose took a few days for themselves in Capri, where they were photographed by paparazzi. One image, in particular, circulated in which they were making out on the deck of a boat. Timothée is contorting himself into the kiss and looks a little awkward. Many people had their laughs. And some even suggested that the photo was staged for publicity. “I went to bed that night thinking that was one of the best days of my life,” Timothée told me. “I was on this boat all day with someone I really loved, and closing my eyes, I was like, indisputably, ‘That was great.’ And then waking up to all these pictures, and feeling embarrassed, and looking like a real nob? All pale? And then people are like: This is a P.R. stunt. A P.R. stunt?! Do you think I'd want to look like that in front of all of you?!”

This was how things worked now. He'd disappeared into those four straight films and emerged into a new paradigm—one that followed him into the holiday season of last year and a whole new level of exposure with Little Women. Here was this film about sisterhood, female intimacy, and a feminist critique of art and commerce. And yet Timothée was still the shiniest object in the set for so many fans. “I'm very used to answering questions about Timothée's hair from 15-year-old girls,” Saoirse Ronan joked with me. “I imagine that's probably what you're going to ask me about?”

Ronan has the unique perspective of having filmed and then promoted two movies with Chalamet during the past three years, and has as clear an eye as anyone onto this early phase of his career. “He's had such incredible opportunities, and he doesn't let the reality of that pass him by,” she said. “He's incredibly gracious and grateful in relation to his work and the people he works with. I think he's become more open as an actor. He knows his instrument more. I think he works even harder now because there are projects that are on his shoulders in a way that they weren't before. And of course he's been totally catapulted into this whole other realm of attention and notoriety. So he's also having to balance the incredible fame and attention, which would completely freak me out if it was something I had to go through.”

.

“I've realized that as much as these heroes of mine mean to me, and as grateful as I am when they offer me advice, even they acknowledge it's just a different thing now.”

When Timothée and I were sitting by the Hudson that afternoon back in summer, there were those two young women who approached him for a photo. But there were also two other young women who caught an eyeful of his profile as they strolled by and then surreptitiously positioned themselves out of his sight line but still in mine. They did that thing where one pretends to take a picture of the other while actually shooting back over her shoulder in selfie mode. That charade went on for five minutes or so while Timothée exercised his guts about reuniting with Gerwig and Ronan on Little Women, and though I was nodding along, I was also marveling at the lengths to which those two fans were willing to go to get a picture of him.

I asked Ronan what she's noticed about that level of attention, sitting beside him for so much of it. “I'm always kind of shocked by those things—when any one person can just completely take over people's lives so much,” she said, laughing a little incredulously. “But I'm also not surprised. There just aren't many other young male actors out there like him, who are able to hold an audience in the way that he does. His look is so magnetic and beautiful. One of the things that we spoke about a lot when we were doing Little Women, in terms of our characters, but also in terms of myself and him as people, is that we both have this masculinity and femininity equally. And I think that that's one of his strengths, is that he can be incredibly sort of feminine and sensitive and sensual, and also he's a guy that, you know, girls fancy. So he covers so much ground in terms of popularity. But at the end of the day, he's always gonna have this skill. He can be cute, but that only gets you so far.… And so I've seen him learn how to separate himself from all that other stuff when he's on set, when he's working.”

In Woodstock, Timothée had described to me with greatest admiration the way that Ronan can act in these films, at this highest level of acclaim and attention, but also remove herself, uncomplicatedly, from all the fuss: “She is like a superhero when it comes to this sort of thing, going through it so healthy—with the asterisk being excellent work across the board and four Oscar nominations. I think her, like, DNA of self is really morally right.” She knows herself extremely well, he said, and has the confidence to give up only so much of herself. Whereas he feels he is calibrating constantly how much of his true self to reveal. “Saoirse's one of my best friends in the world—at least I think we're best friends. And she's never judged me for…the Coachella of it all.” That is, the part of him that can't resist fanning out backstage with his favorite musicians or occasionally allowing himself to be in the spotlight even as he talks about preserving his privacy.

“He's 24, and he's gonna have a great time, and I would never judge him. I've been to Coachella; I just never got photographed at Coachella,” Ronan said, chuckling. “But yeah, we talk about that sort of stuff all the time. We've weirdly gone through this together for the last few years. We've both become more accessible. But he's had one sort of attention—I do feel like boys get it on a whole other level. I know that ultimately what he wants is to be good at his job. And that will always steer him on the right path. I've always let him know, and he's always let me know, we can talk to each other, and we do. He has good people around him, and I'm one of them, and Greta as well—we all kind of look out for one another.”

Timothée spent late May and early June asking questions of himself: What can I do? What is my role in all this? He felt conflicted when he sprang to action and conflicted when he stood still. But never did things feel less uncertain, less self-conscious, than when he was marching, anonymously, alongside hundreds or thousands of others in Los Angeles in the wake of the murder of George Floyd. It was an active way to participate—meaningful action, without being showy, without flexing any of the levers of fame or power. He was going to get hit no matter what he did, so he tried to follow his instincts of what felt humble, responsible, right.

“This idea,” he said, “that power is the mass body politic organized—and how many bodies can you get together—that makes sense to me.” He didn't disappear but, rather, stripped himself of his him-ness and became one body, among many, taking up space and participating in an unequivocal statement. “With a mask, a hood, a hat, glasses—my face is deleted,” he explained, “and I'm literally presenting a physical form, you know?” A single body in space that, like a vote cast in an election, is democracy embodied, but anonymous. The same unit of power as anyone else. “People might find it disingenuous, but I found it really grounding,” he said. “It was Oh shit, I don't feel out of place—and yet I haven't been in a crowd like this for years.”

He spent much of the summer talking with others about how a person should be in a cultural and political moment such as this one. “After a day of protests,” he said, “I'd ask friends if they ‘felt good.’ If we do, is it a good thing to feel good, or does that mean we're doing it for the wrong reasons? How much do I want to put on social media? Is it a virtue signal to put it on social media? But all social media is performative, right?” I heard him ask dozens of self-interrogating questions like these. He cares so genuinely about doing the right thing, about doing well by his family, his friends, and his fans. But he didn't want to misuse his privilege or his platform, to overreach so that the gravity of his fame sucked up anything from anyone else whose moment it was to speak. He didn't want to take up room; he wanted to help center other voices. On Instagram, he posted videos each day during the first week of marches in Los Angeles—no directives into camera, just an implicit charge to his followers: Show up. Listen. Be a body.

“I have so many thoughts on so much of it,” he said, “but I don't see the benefit of putting it down for consumption until I've really worked out exactly how I feel about it all. Who benefits from my half-baked ideas?” Who cannot relate to this in 2020? Who would want any of their dinnertime conversations with family and friends these past months chiseled into the stone of the internet? “I care so much about this stuff. But I would never want my caring to be misconstrued. I don't want my caring to be about me in any way.”

God, this stuff twisted him up. He knows how much has gone his way. But from the summit of good fortune and power, is it better to speak constantly—or to shut up, put on the glasses, pull down the hood, and live and act according to one's convictions as one individual among many individuals? To march. To vote. To speak through action rather than words. Staying in motion, showing up, being a body—it's a good place to start while he works out the rest of how he's meant to live a life true to his values with everyone watching.

He's seeking out the right path, the right people—with help from his “intergenerational peers” and Dylan and anyone else he can find. He wants the benefit of their knowledge and experience, and he's okay if it's slow going to accrue it. He's open to playing the role of the novice still. But there have also been things in his life these past of couple years that have made him realize, as he puts it, “adults are just kids a little bit older.” When he returned to New York from Los Angeles this summer, it wasn't to his childhood apartment or to a borrowed living space of an acquaintance. It was to his very own apartment, his first, in a little wedge of Manhattan he loved for being nowhere, but on the edge of several somewheres. He relished the mundanity of setting up his own place. To hear him talk about a first trip to CB2 was like hearing another person talk about their first trip to a movie set. “But I think if people saw what my apartment looked like, they'd be like, ‘Oh! This kid has no fucking clue what he's doing.’ ” He is so young and he is so old. It is his gift. He is so patient when he can suppress being so restless. So careful with the long arc of a career when he can resist obsessing over the instant. He is so confident when he centers on the work and so searching when he gets sucked down into questions about the rest of his life. Will he always be this way? This pliable and open? This self-reflective and intentional? He trusted so little of his new life, but he trusted his talent. That was the key. He knew he was as good as anyone at playing other people, even if he was still figuring out how to play himself.

We spent a good amount of time in Woodstock and in New York City and on the phone talking about where his career might take him from here. With great humility, he acknowledges his skill. But he has been thinking a lot about the difference between preternatural talent and mastery—the work that's required to ascend from that floor of young greatness to the ceiling of realized potential. That said, he's wise enough to know that his career could pivot in an entirely different direction—that the world could change or the opportunities could dry up or “eventually there's gonna be an Oscar Isaac in his 30s who's gonna bust out of Juilliard who's gonna be the next great actor and make me feel like a piece of shit. But right now…”

He told me, “If I get hit by a truck next week, I'm looking at 20 to 23, I don't know if you can top that.” To show up with Call Me by Your Name—he knows that that film was a unicorn, the sort an actor works his whole life to find. And the immediate Oscar nomination had freed him up to not spend the rest of his career chasing a certain kind of role that might lead to a certain kind of validation. “I'm not gonna be bashing my head against a wall trying to prove that I'm an actor,” he said. “The train can run over my leg and leave a track forever, and yet the point of entry for me…,” he said, trailing. “That's a good feeling.”

He looks at all these careers—all the careers you might expect: DiCaprio, Bale, Phoenix, Depp. And he does his best to separate the strands of each of their careers that might still apply to his. But all of the rules for acting success that those performers played by, for how to be in the public eye, for career arcs and longevity—those rules are irrelevant now. Hollywood is different, the media is different, fans are different, movies are different, the world is different. “I've realized that as much as these heroes of mine mean to me, and as grateful as I am when they offer me advice, even they acknowledge it's just a different thing now.”

And so it's occurring to him that the next few years will be Timothée finding the path that's right for him. Lately, he's thought about this next phase as shining a flashlight into the dark. There are potential projects that excite him considerably, some of which he's had a greater hand in engineering. There is, of course, the Dylan movie. But there's the question of how to spend the rest of the year, when most Hollywood productions are still paused. “The rest of the year,” he says, “I'm just thinking about Trump, man.” But after that…maybe Europe for a while? The Woodstock experiment did what he'd hoped it would—a little space, somewhere else. He would love to just breathe some different air again.

He was at another pivot point, as he had been when he and I were first together for Chapter 1. In the winter of 2018, the work had been validated, the public profile had developed suddenly. But the temptations, the confusion, the money—those were all lagging indicators. By mid-2020, all had caught up. And the money, in particular, was on his mind one afternoon in New York. We were talking about how a person might stay true to one's roots with that sort of thing when the reality, for him at least, had changed with Dune. I told him that one of the things that seemed to differentiate him from young stars of the past, and perhaps was a feature of his generation, was the way that material possessions didn't consume him. He didn't buy much stuff. He didn't own a car or a house. He liked borrowing clothes, but not necessarily keeping them. He agreed with the characterization, but then got immediately twisted up about a potential future hypocrisy: “But Dan, what if I do grow to like fancy shit?!”

Boomeranging back home after the surreal adventures out in the world—that was a good and grounding thing for him. Over the weeks we were talking, he spent time with his folks, delivered some COVID groceries to his grandma, and was in touch with his sister daily. And in New York, he and I kept running into ghosts. One afternoon, when we crossed the West Side Highway at Houston Street, he gestured at the athletic complex at Pier 40, where he played soccer growing up. He scampered over to a vending machine there to grab a bottle of water. When he pulled open his wallet to pay, he had only twenties. “Bad metaphor! Bad metaphor!” he screamed, jumping away from the vending machine, as though it were one of the great threats to his selfhood. This was the sort of innocuous moment that will hum with outsize resonance for me when I think about Chapter 2 from the future. All the things that one would expect to happen had happened in the first two and a half years since the arrival of a comet, and yet he was suspicious of so much of it.

Here is another way I will remember him from this moment: sitting on that porch in Woodstock—breeze and birds in the trees, sunlight in the leaves—looking for a higher power. Or at least expressing openness, as a nonreligious person, to the idea of some central organizing force in the universe—because, given everything lately, there has to be or we're fucked, right? Some of these searching things he said to me could be mistaken as a person spinning out a little. But that wasn't it at all. There was such calm. There was such contentment with the grace that had been afforded his life and career thus far, and where each might take him next. He was questing, yes—but he was firmly at the controls. The flashlight in the dark. Someone moving forward with great confidence into the unknown, with eyes wide, mouth shut, and ears listening more than they ever had before. There were no models for how a person like him should be anymore. There were no longer any adults who weren't just kids a little bit older. There were no blueprints for how to shape a career—so much had changed. There was only a head and a heart, his, and a feeling for the moment. “Maybe I'll never do a great work of art again, but I just feel like I'm confident in the way I'm trying to approach things now, how I'm setting up the angles,” he said on that porch in Woodstock. “When you think about Dylan. When you think about what Joel Coen said about the rapidness of the art, I'm just like: Trust the beat of your own drum. Give this its best shot. Give your artistry its best shot.”

.

Daniel Riley is a GQ correspondent and the author of ‘Barcelona Days,’ which was published this past summer.

A version of this story originally appears in the November 2020 issue with the title "Wild Heart."

PRODUCTION CREDITS: Photographs by Renell Medrano Styled by Mobolaji Dawodu Tailoring by Ksenia Golub Produced by Wei-Li Wang at Hudson Hill Production

[nitrateglow]

Favorite films discovered in 2020

Well, this year sucked. I did see some good movies though. Some even made after I was born!

Perfect Blue (dir. Satoshi Kon, 1997)

I watch a lot of thrillers and horror movies, but precious few actually unsettle me in any lasting way. This cannot be said of Perfect Blue, which gave me one of the most visceral cinematic experiences of my life. Beyond the brief flashes of bloodletting (you will never look at a screwdriver the same way again), the scariest thing about Perfect Blue might be how the protagonist has both her life and her sense of self threatened by the villains. The movie’s prescience regarding public persona is also incredibly eerie, especially in our age of social media. While anime is seen as a very niche interest (albeit one that has become more mainstream in recent years), I would highly recommend this movie to thriller fans, whether they typically watch anime or not. It’s right up there with the best of Hitchcock or De Palma.

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly (dir. Sergio Leone, 1966)

Nothing is better than when an iconic movie lives up to the hype. Clint Eastwood, Eli Wallach, and Lee Van Cleef play off of one another perfectly. I was impressed by Wallach as Tuco in particular: his character initially seems like a one-dimensional greedy criminal, but the performance is packed with wonderful moments of humanity. Do I really need to say anything about the direction? Or about the wonderful storyline, which takes on an almost mythic feel in its grandeur? Or that soundtrack?

Die Niebelungen (both movies) (dir. Fritz Lang, 1924)

I did NOT expect to love these movies as much as I did. That they would be dazzlingly gorgeous I never doubted: the medieval world of the story is brought to vivid life through the geometrical mise en scene and detailed costuming. However, the plot itself is so, so riveting, never losing steam over the course of the four hours it takes to watch both movies. The first half is heroic fantasy; the second half involves a revenge plot of almost Shakespearean proportions. This might actually be my favorite silent Fritz Lang movie now.

Muppet Treasure Island (dir. Brian Henson, 1996)

I understand that people have different tastes and all, but how does this movie have such a mixed reception? It’s absolutely hilarious. How could anybody get through the scene with “THA BLACK SPOT AGGHHHHHHH” and not declare this a masterpiece of comedy? And I risk being excommunicated from the Muppet fandom for saying it, but I like this one more than The Great Muppet Caper. It’s probably now my second favorite Muppet movie.

Belle de Jour (dir. Luis Bunuel, 1967)

I confess I’m not terribly fond of “but was it real???” movies. They tend to feel gimmicky more often than not. Belle de Jour is an exception. This is about more than a repressed housewife getting her kicks working as a daytime prostitute. The film delves into victim blaming, trauma, class, and identity-- sure, this sounds academic and dry when I put it that way, but what I’m trying to say is that these are very complicated characters and the blurring of fantasy and reality becomes thought-provoking rather than trite due to that complexity.

Secondhand Lions (dir. Tim McCanlies, 2003)

The term “family movie” is often used as a synonym for “children’s movie.” However, there is an important distinction: children’s movies only appeal to kids, while family movies retain their appeal as one grows up. Secondhand Lions is perhaps a perfect family movie, with a great deal more nuance than one might expect regarding the need for storytelling and its purpose in creating meaning for one’s life. It’s also amazingly cast: Haley Joel Osment is excellent as the juvenile lead, and Michael Caine and Robert Duvall steal the show as Osment’s eccentric uncles.

The Pawnbroker (dir. Sidney Lumet, 1964)

Controversial in its day for depicting frontal nudity, The Pawnbroker shocks today for different reasons. As the top review of the film on IMDB says, we’re used to victims of great atrocities being presented as sympathetic, good people in fiction. Here, Rod Steiger’s Sol Nazerman subverts such a trope: his suffering at the hands of the Nazis has made him a hard, closed-off person, dismissive of his second wife (herself also a survivor of the Holocaust), cold to his friendly assistant, and bitter towards himself. The movie follows Nazerman’s postwar life, vividly presenting his inner pain in a way that is almost too much to bear. Gotta say, Steiger gives one of the best performances I have ever seen in a movie here: he’s so three-dimensional and complex. The emotions on his face are registered with Falconetti-level brilliance.

The Apartment (dir. Billy Wilder, 1960)

While not the most depressing Christmas movie ever, The Apartment certainly puts a good injection of cynicism into the season. I have rarely seen a movie so adept at blending comedy, romance, and satire without feeling tone-deaf. There are a lot of things to praise about The Apartment, but I want to give a special shoutout to the dialogue. “Witty” dialogue that sounds natural is hard to come by-- so often, it just feels smart-assy and strained. Not here.

Anatomy of a Murder (dir. Otto Preminger, 1959)

I’m not big into courtroom dramas, but Anatomy of a Murder is a big exception. Its morally ambiguous characters elevate it from being a mere “whodunit” (or I guess in the case of this movie, “whydunit”), because if there’s something you’re not going to get with this movie, it’s a clear answer as to what happened on the night of the crime. Jimmy Stewart gives one of his least characteristic performances as the cynical lawyer, and is absolutely brilliant. 

Oldboy (dir. Park Chan-Wook, 2003)

Oldboy reminded me a great deal of John Webster’s 17th century tragedy The Duchess of Malfi. Both are gruesome, frightening, and heartbreaking works of art, straddling the line between sensationalism and intelligence, proving the two are not mutually exclusive. It’s both entertaining and difficult to watch. The thought of revisiting it terrifies me but I feel there is so much more to appreciate about the sheer craft on display.

Family Plot (dir. Alfred Hitchcock, 1976)

Family Plot is an enjoyable comedy; you guys are just mean. I know in an ideal world, Hitchcock’s swan song would be a great thriller masterpiece in the vein of Vertigo or Psycho. Family Plot is instead a silly send-up of Hitchcock’s favorite tropes, lampooning everything from the dangerous blonde archetype (with not one but two characters) to complicated MacGuffin plots. You’ll probably demand my film buff card be revoked for my opinion, but to hell with it-- this is my favorite of Hitchcock’s post-Psycho movies.

My Best Girl (dir. Sam Taylor, 1927)

Mary Pickford’s farewell to silent film also happens to be among her best movies. It’s a simple, charming romantic comedy starring her future husband, Charles “Buddy” Rogers. Pickford also gets to play an adult character here, rather than the little girl parts her public demanded she essay even well into her thirties. She and Rogers are sweet together without being diabetes-inducing, and the comedy is often laugh out loud funny. It even mocks a few tropes that anyone who watches enough old movies will recognize and probably dislike-- such as “break his heart to save him!!” (my personal most loathed 1920s/1930s trope).

Parasite (dir. Bong Joon-ho, 2019)

This feels like such a zeitgeist movie. It’s about the gap between the rich and the poor, it’s ironic,  it’s depressing, it’s unpredictable as hell. I don’t like terms like “modern classic,” because by its very definition, a classic can only be deemed as such after a long passage of time, but I have a good feeling Parasite will be considered one of the definitive films of the 2010s in the years to come.

Indiscreet (dir. Stanley Donen, 1958)

Indiscreet often gets criticized for not being Notorious more or less, which is a shame. It’s not SUPPOSED to be-- it’s cinematic souffle and both Ingrid Bergman and Cary Grant elevate that light material with their perfect chemistry and comedic timing. It’s also refreshing to see a rom-com with characters over 40 as the leads-- and the movie does not try to make them seem younger or less mature, making the zany moments all the more hilarious. It’s worth seeing for Cary Grant’s jig (picture above) alone.

The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (dir. Joseph Sargent, 1974)

This movie embodies so much of what I love about 70s cinema: it’s gritty, irreverent, and hard-hitting. It’s both hilarious and suspenseful-- I was tense all throughout the run time. I heard there was a remake and it just seems... so, so pointless when you already have this gem perfect as it is.

They All Laughed (dir. Peter Bogdonavich, 1981)

Bogdonavich’s lesser known homage to 1930s screwball comedy is also a weirdly autumnal movie. Among the last gasps of the New Hollywood movement, it is also marks the final time Audrey Hepburn would star in a theatrical release. The gentle comedy, excellent ensemble cast (John Ritter is the standout), and the mature but short-lived romance between Hepburn and Ben Gazarra’s characters make this a memorably bittersweet gem.

The Palm Beach Story (dir. Preston Sturges, 1942)

Absolutely hilarious. I was watching this with my parents in the room. My mom tends to like old movies while my dad doesn’t, but both of them were laughing aloud at this one. Not much else to say about it, other than I love Joel McCrea the more movies I see him in-- though it’s weird seeing him in comedies since I’m so used to him as a back-breaking man on the edge in The Most Dangerous Game!

Nothing Sacred (dir. William Wellman, 1937)

I tend to associate William Wellman with the pre-code era, so I’ve tried delving more into his post-code work. Nothing Sacred is easily my favorite of those films thus far, mainly for Carole Lombard but also because the story still feels pretty fresh due to the jabs it takes at celebrity worship and moral hypocrisy. For a satire, it’s still very warm towards its characters, even when they’re misbehaving or deluding themselves, so it’s oddly a feel-good film too.

Applause (dir. Rouben Mamoulian, 1929)

I love watching early sound movies, but my inner history nerd tends to enjoy them more than the part of me that, well, craves good, well-made movies. Most early sound films are pure awkward, but there’s always an exception and Applause is one of them. While the plot’s backstage melodrama is nothing special, the way the story is told is super sophisticated and expressive for this period of cinema history, and Helen Morgan makes the figure of the discarded burlesque queen seem truly human and tragic rather than merely sentimental.

Topaz (dir. Alfred Hitchcock, 1969)

Another late Hitchcock everyone but me seems to hate. After suffering through Torn Curtain, I expected Hitchcock’s other cold war thriller was going to be dull as dishwater, but instead I found an understated espionage movie standing in stark contrast to the more popular spy movies of the period. It’ll never be top Hitchcock, of course-- still it was stylish and enjoyable, with some truly haunting moments. I think it deserves more appreciation than it’s been given.

What were your favorite cinematic discoveries in 2020?

[22drunkb]

Please tell me about the Tim Curry phenomenon?

Hoist on my own petard! Okay.

So just in case what I said was unclear, when I said “Tim Curry as a phenomenon” I didn’t mean that there was some Thing That Happened, like [rummages in ancient tumblr lore] mishapocalypse or something. I just mean what Tim Curry has come to signify in popular culture for certain kinds and generations of people. I would not consider myself a Tim Curry expert, I don’t know a ton about his life and filmography, but I do experience him as that kind of icon or signifier, so all I’m going to be talking about is that (and for this reason I have determined I am not going to look anything up). (@tafadhali​ I’m going to need to you let me know how I did when this is all over.) So:

Tim Curry is an actor. He is probably best known for The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Clue, Muppet Treasure Island, Home Alone 2, the 90s miniseries of It, and maybe now that one clip of him that circulates online from time to time where he’s yelling about going to space and trying not to laugh. The key facts are:

Tim Curry has incredible presence and charisma. He is not an actor who “disappears into the role.” He is a very skilled performer--it’s not like he plays the same thing in every role, and if somebody else could do what he does, many more people would be doing it--but he’s the kind of actor who gets used as a shorthand to describe characters, or other actors. “A Tim Curry type.” He works in Muppet Treasure Island because he’s in no way naturalistic, and so he can play off puppets no problem. We could comparatively describe this as The Jack Black Factor.

Tim Curry has a very distinctive voice (speaking and singing) and way of delivering lines, such that his accent comes off as almost put-on or parodic without ever quite going over the top. (This is true when he’s actually putting on an accent and when he’s not.) His delivery has unusual emphases that make the lines stick with you. These qualities are equally suited to comedy and creepiness, and he reasonably often does both at the same time. So he easily becomes a kind of factory for references, a meme factory before we called things memes. We could comparatively describe this as The Christopher Walken Factor.

Tim Curry has been in a lot of movies. These movies’ quality ranges from “hilariously bad” to “not good by mainstream standards, but objectively incredible at being the kind of movie it is” to “beloved hit, but nobody would call it High Cinema.” (If Tim Curry has also been in prestige films recognized as such,* I do not disrespect them or him, but I don’t know about it! And that’s part of the Tim Curry phenomenon!) I have not come up with a comparison for this--it’s less a distinctive thing than something that becomes important in combination with the first two.

Tim Curry always does an incredible job in these movies, whatever their quality. And he always seems to be having a great time doing it. One of the top YouTube comments on that clip I linked reads, “A reviewer once said about Tim Curry: ‘For every 1-star movie he's been in, he's the reason that movie got that star.’” He delivers a specific feeling of intense talent being directed, with great pleasure, to a purpose that is, on some level, inexplicable. (No one else would say this line this way! Why is he doing that! Because he’s Tim Curry, and that’s good enough, dammit!) This creates a sensation that somehow combines “admiration” and “this is hilarious,” but in a different way than you might admire a great stand-up set. It’s on purpose without feeling deliberate. It’s cheese being executed at the level of high art. It’s ridiculous and it’s fantastic. IT’S CAMP, BABY. Put that together with the ability to walk a knife-edge between hilarious clown and scary villain (he played Pennywise, hello), in the context of what the film industry outside of Very Special Episode morality tales has been for most of his career, and you have a recipe for a queer culture icon. I give you Frank-N-Furter.

So Tim Curry at this point means a certain quality or texture of zaniness--but one that’s not maniacal or exactly cartoonish, just like, orthogonal to what’s expected or normal. You get Tim Curry for a role when you want things to feel a little too much but in the best way; when you want to sit right on the line between “this character is out of sync with reality” and “telling the audience this is a heightened reality.” This is assuming you’re a good filmmaker who knows what you’re doing. He is the best thing in some bad movies because he reliably creates this delightful sensation even when the movie doesn’t have a clear purpose for it; he can make objectively bad material fun to watch because the things that made the writing dumb or the costuming bad are campy and fun in his hands. This is kind of what I meant by an inexplicable purpose: it doesn’t need to make sense to work. This is also what I mean about being on the line between “is the character acting nuts or is this the kind of world the movie is setting up”--when it’s not what the movie is trying to do, but the movie is failing at what it is trying to do, Tim Curry suddenly makes that fun to watch because whatever he’s doing is both of quality and basically ineffable.

So this is why we live in a world where, say, Justin McElroy can build a whole bit on MBMaM around just repeatedly spitting out the words “CHEESE! PIZZA!” in a Tim Curry voice, or Tim Curry appears on The Simpsons. At this point Tim Curry is not just a man or an actor, he’s a mood. And because that mood is hard to describe, we mostly only invoke it by referring to him. But it’s a wonderful thing that has a lot of room in it to be enjoyed in different ways, whether it’s about queerness or comedy or surrealism or performance craft that isn’t smothered by the uptight standards of “naturalism” or “realism” or “subtlety.” And Clue is one of the best venues for it because it is a good movie made by people who did know what they were doing, and what they were doing was aimed exactly at creating the Tim Curry Experience: it’s clever and artful at being campy and cheesy, and its darkness and funniness are wrapped together in so many layers you can’t separate them.

BONUS:

Evidence of Tim Curry’s skill as a performer: look at him Not Being Tim Curry on SNL here with Eddie Murphy, maybe the one time I can think of that he’s in the “straight man” role. (An FYI more than a warning: The sketch is poking at racism--I think it holds up really well, but it’s deliberately pushing ~the line.)

__________________________________ *I know a lot of Film People etc. now consider Clue a genuine genius classic--for good reason! it’s incredible!--but it wasn’t received that way, and to the extent that it has gained this recognition it’s by that rubric of “succeeds at what it’s trying to do, which is more important than whether what it’s trying to do is be Citizen Kane Paddington 2.”

[ahufflepuffranting]

The Mistakes of the Half-Blood Prince Movie

Disclaimer: These are my opinions not facts. I haven’t watched this movie in many moons so some scenes may be spotty/inaccurate. Also a lot of them are going to be derived from the book so if you haven’t read them, read the series, rewatch or watch the movies and then come back. Also major spoilers for this movie. You have been warned.

So…the HBP. I remember watching this movie in middle school/early high school. Now after a few years. I have a lot of thoughts on this movie and I felt that this would be a good first post. Enjoy!

1) Snape as the DADA Teacher. For those who read the books you know Snape has been eyeing the DADA (Defense Against the Dark Arts) teaching spot for years. We learn this in the first book and it’s mentioned in the first movie as well. But he is overlooked year after year after year. Now he finally has it. AND THERE’S NOT EVEN A MENTION IN THE MOVIE. In fact we barely see  him at all during the movie. Snape as the DADA is such a fascinating topic of the book and would’ve been amazing to see in the movie. Plus we would’ve gotten the iconic sassy Harry line “There’s no need to call me, SIr Professor”. 

2) Draco Malfoy. Now before I begin, let’s just say Tom Felton’s hair and wardrobe were at its peak during this film. Anyway, as readers and watchers all know, Draco is a death eater now and has been tasked with killing Dumbledore. In the book, we see these events through Harry’s perspective only which makes sense; it’s not Draco Malfoy and the Year He Tried to Kill Dumbledore. But a movie is an opportunity to expand and explore different characters and I wished they had done that for Draco a bit more. I would’ve loved to see the scene where is initiated and given the task by Voldemort. There were a few scenes but I wished to see the internal struggle that Draco was going through. Up until this point, we have always seen Draco as the opposite of Harry, the dark side and the enemy. But now with the Wizarding World at War, we begin to see a different side to Draco as he has a battle of doing what’s right and do what he is supposed to do. 

3) Remus and Tonks. This is another topic that is rarely touched on during this film. Remus and Tonks is such an interesting dynamic and its another topic that I wished was expanded upon. In the book towards the end, Harry finds out that Tonks was in love with Remus when he thought it was Sirius she was mourning over. After the Battle at the Astronomy Tower (more on that later) there is this wonderful, heart-tugging and romantic scene where Tonks is trying to convince Remus that they can be together. Remus tries to rebuff her.  

““You see!“ said a strained voice. Tonks was glaring at Lupin. "She still wants to marry him, even though he’s been bitten! She doesn’t care!”

“It’s different,” said Lupin, barely moving his lips and looking suddenly tense. “Bill will not be a full werewolf. The cases are completely-”

“But I don’t care either, I don’t care!” said Tonks, seizing the front of Lupin’s robes and shaking them. “I’ve told you a million times….”” 

And the meaning of Tonk’s Patronus and her mouse-colored hair, and the reason she had come running to find Dumbledore when she had heard a rumor someone had been attacked by Greyback, all suddenly became clear to Harry; it had not been Sirius that Tonks had fallen in love with after all.

“And I’ve told you a million times,” said Lupin, refusing to meet her eyes, staring at the floor, “that I am too old for you, too poor….too dangerous….” (Half-Blood Prince, pg. 623-624)

This highlights another aspect of Remus that is not easily shown in this movie, his ability to let others in. So afraid of being loved, Remus tries to shut out Tonks, thinking he is a monster, unworthy to be loved. But Tonks refuses to give up and tries to show him that she loves him for who he is, werewolf and all. This scene is iconic and to remove it from the movie is a crime. Also in the movie, they were already a couple…..??? #REMUS DESERVED BETTER #REMUS NEEDS A HUG

4) Ginny. I have many thoughts on Ginny. Bonnie Wright is an amazing actress so this is in no way bashing her.  Ginny in the book is sassy, assertive and loveable. She stands up for herself and others and doesn’t get pushed around by anyone. 

Movie Ginny on the other hand is kind of one dimensional and there was so much potential for her to grow. In the book, her relationship with Harry is an actual relationship. They spend time to together. It’s cute and it’s everything. The breakup scene is so sad but beautiful in its own way because it’s so like Harry to break up with her because he loves her so much. And that kiss scene in the book!!!! Oh my gosh do not even gte my wheels GOING! Like all Hinny shippers must have been like “FINALLY!!”

But in the movie, they just kiss in the ROR (Room of Requirement) and she just disappears and nothing happens after that. So they just never dated????? Like what????? A kiss doesn’t equate to a relationship, like ever. I realize now that Rowling was trying to create a normal atmosphere you’d get in any high school/teen universe because despite being in a middle a war, they’re still growing up and being teenagers with all thier angst. Harry pining for Ginny is a HUGE part of the HBP and its a huge part of that trying to be normal vibe (whatever that means in a middle of a war and you’re the Chosen One).

5) Battle at the Astronomy Tower. In the book, after Dumbeldore’s death, a battle erupts between the Death Eaters, who infiltrated the school with Draco’s help-and the students and the Order. I remember not appreciating when I first read this but now looking back, I wish I had. This event is considered a major battle and is the climax of this book. Everything has led up to this moment. AND THEY JUST TAKE IT OUT AND REPLACE IT WITH SOME MEDIOCRE ESCAPE SCENE. Bellatrix just blows out the windows of the Great Hall and sets Hagrid’s hut on fire but he’s NOT EVEN THERE! In the book, when she flamed up his hut, Hagrid was there and was PISSED because Fang was inside. DOn’t worry for all the dog lovers, Fang survives. It just seems so wrong to take it out. The scene that takes its place is bland in comparison and they should have just followed the book instead.

6) Fleur For those who didn’t read the book Fleur is engaged to Bill Weasley and the family…for the lack of a better word absolutely despises her. Behind her back they mock her and give her the oh-so-wonderful nickname Phlegm. Even though I don’t particularly care that it didn’t make it into the movie, there is one scene that I wished they kept that ties into my previous point. During the battle at the Astronomy Tower, Bill is mauled by Greyback and is scared for life. The scratches he sustained meant he would suffer but never fully transform. Molly despairs and assumes that Fleur would no longer want to marry him because of his marred face. But Fleur angrily berates her saying that Bill’s scars are proof of his bravery and she “was good-looking enough for both of them” (HBP, pg. 623). This scene is such a heartwarming scene after such a tragic event and I would’ve been more than happy if they included it.

 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING THE WHOLE THING! I MIGHT DO ANOTHER RANT FOR OTHER HP MOVIES! PLEASE REBLOG AND ADD NOTES! 

[passionate-reply]

This week on Great Albums: a fresh look at quite possibly the 80s’ most hated band, A Flock of Seagulls! Spoiler: their music is good, people in the 90s and 00s were just mean. If you want to find out more about how having the absolute best hair in the business ended up backfiring on these poor sods, look no further than my latest video. Or the transcript of it, which follows below the break!

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! Today, I’m going to be diving into a discussion of quite possibly the most derided and lambasted music group of the 1980s: A Flock of Seagulls. With a strange name, a perhaps painfully stylish aesthetic, and equally trendy and of-the-moment music, that was, for a time, inescapable in popular culture, their legacy forms a perfect target for the ridicule all popular things must face in due time. But even moreso than that, I think A Flock of Seagulls have become not only a punchline in and of themselves, but also a summation of everything that was dreadful and excessive about the early 1980s, with its “Second British Invasion” of synthesiser-driven New Wave. I can think of no better example of this kind of abuse than a famous line from the 1999 comedy film, Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me. The film is largely a love letter to the 1960s and its Mod aesthetics, and the protagonist, a super-spy unfrozen from this era in time, dismisses the history and culture of the 1970s and 80s as nothing more than “a gas shortage, and A Flock of Seagulls.” But at the time of this writing, we’re about as far away from Austin Powers as the film was from the release of this album, the band’s 1982 debut LP, so I think it’s been long enough that we can start to re-evaluate A Flock of Seagulls’ rightful place in music history.

While this self-titled album was the group’s first long-player, their first release was the 1981 single “It’s Not Me Talking.” Notably, this track was actually produced by the legendary Bill Nelson, who also released it on their behalf via his personal label, Cocteau Records. Ever since discovering this for myself, I’ve found the connection between Nelson and A Flock of Seagulls fascinating, and also satisfying. Despite the gulf between their respective reputations, I do think their work has a lot in common, at the end of the day: swirling washes of synth disrupted by screaming guitars, not to mention that shared interest in Midcentury rock and roll aesthetics.

Music: “It’s Not Me Talking”

These two acts would, of course, go their separate ways shortly after, and they ended up in completely opposite camps, with Nelson becoming a cult favourite with little crossover success, and A Flock of Seagulls going on to create what is, undoubtedly, one of the most iconic songs of the entire decade.

Music: “I Ran”

What does one even say about a song like “I Ran”? Over the years, it’s certainly gotten somewhat overplayed, but I can’t really hold that against it. It’s just a damn good song. Both ethereally menacing as well as catchy and rather accessible, “I Ran” takes the atmosphere suggested by “It’s Not Me Talking” and kicks it into another gear, with a harder-hitting hook and the introduction of that highly distinctive and of-the-moment echoing guitar effect. Some will hear it as little more than evidence that the song is hopelessly dated, but I’ve never thought of it as anything other than satisfying to listen to. If you ask me, I figure all art that exists is essentially “a product of its time”--nobody ever said Michelangelo Buonarroti’s David was a lousy sculpture, just because you can easily tell it was made during the Italian Renaissance. At any rate, I’d encourage everyone reading to go back and listen to it again, trying to maintain a little neutrality. I’d recommend the album cut of it, which is significantly longer than the single version, and features a rich intro that sets the scene before that famous guitar ever makes an appearance, which I think really adds to the experience. By some reckonings, A Flock of Seagulls are sometimes considered a “one-hit wonder,” but while they certainly are remembered chiefly for “I Ran,” this album’s other singles were moderately successful as well.

Music: “Space Age Love Song”

“Space Age Love Song” is perhaps the band’s second best-remembered single, and takes their sound in a markedly different direction than that of “I Ran.” “I Ran” won popular acclaim by finding a new home for the guitar, in the midst of a sea of synth, and pushed A Flock of Seagulls into a similar space as acts like the Cars and Duran Duran, who had enough mainstream rock sensibilities to sneak a lot of synthesiser usage onto American rock radio...much as one might sneak spinach into tomato sauce when feeding picky children. But I think “Space Age Love Song” is much more palatable to listeners of pop, synth- or otherwise. It’s softer in texture, and really almost dreamy, capturing the hazy, buoyant feeling of limerence as well as any pop song ever has. I’m tempted to compare it to another synth-driven classic, whose influence towers over this period in electronic music: the great Giorgio Moroder’s “I Feel Love.” Much like “I Feel Love,” “Space Age Love Song” combines simple, almost banal love lyrics with an evocative electronic soundscape, painting a picture of an enchanting, high-tech future where human feelings like love have remained comfortably recognizable across centuries or millennia. A similar theme of futuristic love pervades the album’s second single, “Modern Love Is Automatic.”

Music: “Modern Love Is Automatic”

While “Space Age Love Song” uses simplistic lyricism to portray the relatable universality of falling in love, “Modern Love Is Automatic” gives us the album’s most complex narrative. In a world where “young love’s forbidden,” we meet a pair of star-crossed lovers prevented from being together by some sort of dystopian authority. The male member of this union, introduced as the “cosmic man,” is apparently imprisoned for the crime of loving, but the text suggests that he may escape from this prison--or, perhaps, even be freed from it. The title, repeated quite frequently throughout the track, is perhaps the mantra of this anti-love society, a piece of propaganda being drilled into us as thoroughly as it is into these subjects: Modern love is automatic, with no need for messy, unpredictable human input.

It’s also worth noting that the song is consciously set in “old Japan,” deliberately locating it in the “exotic” East. While East Asia was strongly associated with refined, perhaps futuristic culture, I can’t help but think there’s a more pejorative sentiment operating here, rooted in stereotypes of Asian cultures unduly policing sexual freedom, and other forms of personal expression and self-determination. Ultimately, despite its futuristic trappings, “Modern Love Is Automatic” isn’t really a song about technology at all, but rather authoritarianism. “Telecommunication,” on the other hand, engages more directly with that theme.

Music: “Telecommunication”

“Telecommunication” was also released prior to the self-titled album proper, and was also produced by Bill Nelson. While structurally similar to “Modern Love Is Automatic,” with an oft-repeated title, brief verses, and a generally repetitive musical structure full of meandering guitar, its text quite plainly discusses the titular field of technology, in a seemingly non-judgmental fashion--though it could be argued that the fairly upbeat music suggests a positive outlook on things like radio and TV. The one hitch in all of it is the very end of the last verse, which sets the song in the “nuclear age”--a nod, perhaps, to the darker applications of 20th Century technology. “Telecommunication” is perhaps indebted less to figures like Moroder, and moreso to Kraftwerk, who first solidified the rich tradition of stoic synth thumpers about everyday machines like cars, trains, and, of course, nuclear energy. I’m also tempted to compare it to an earlier work of Bill Nelson’s group Be-Bop Deluxe, “Electrical Language,” another bubbly number that playfully bats this concept back and forth.

The theme of “quotidian technology” is also present on the cover of this album, which features an interior shot of a living room, centered around a television set. The TV displays a figure playing guitar--perhaps one of those heroic rock pioneers of the Midcentury like Buddy Holly, whom Nelson was so keen to imitate. But what’s most immediately striking about this cover is its beautiful colour palette, full of deep, saturated jewel tones, treated softly with an “airbrush” style effect. Despite being a somewhat mundane scene, the image also features fanciful, imaginative touches: the floor of this room is actually a miniature beach landscape, with the “floor” beneath the TV actually being the surface of the ocean, and the TV appears to be surrounded by a colourful, glowing group of birds. Given the beachy surroundings, we could perhaps interpret them as the titular seagulls. It’s tempting to think of this scene as a representation of how technology can sweep us away, out of our everyday existence and into something richer and more exciting.

But perhaps it’s not so simple--note also the open window in the top left, whose curtain appears to be agitated by some sort of motion in the air. Perhaps these birds are not the products of television fantasy, but rather have flown in from the window, and hence hail from the “real world?” Given how tracks like “Space Age Love Song” and “Modern Love Is Automatic” tackle the theme of the mundane meeting the fantastical, I think this complex and arresting image is a great fit for the album.

While their self-titled debut spawned multiple recognizable hits, A Flock of Seagulls never came anywhere close to recapturing its success. For the most part, they struggled to remain relevant as time wore on, largely abandoning the sonic footprint of their first album, and chasing after new trends in music technology such as digital synthesisers. They would eventually break up during the mid-1980s, and though they’ve reunited in order to perform live several times, the book is probably closed on A Flock of Seagulls. Personally, I can’t help but wonder what might have been if they had stuck to their musical roots a bit more. You get a bit of that on their third LP, 1984’s The Story of a Young Heart, which thankfully brings back that iconic echoing guitar, and does so without sounding too much like a simple retread of “I Ran.” Out of all their other work, it’s the album I would most recommend to admirers of this debut LP.

Music: “Remember David”

My favourite track on A Flock of Seagulls’ debut LP is “Messages”--not to be confused with the track of the same name by Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark! Moreso than anything else on the album, “Messages” has this aggressive, insistent, driving quality, and feels less like yacht rock, and more like punk rock. Despite not being released as a single, I think it’s a very strong track that’s quite easy to get into. That’s everything for today--thanks for listening!

Music: “Messages”

[wntersfire]

GET TO KNOW ME TAG GAME

Before I start I would just like to say (tw alcohol for now and question 19) sorry for any spelling mistakes or if I ramble a little. To cut a long fuckin story short I mis read the measurements of my shot glasses and so instead of having two cocktails I’ve had the equivalent of four in the space of an hour and a half. Being british, im not gonna let a good drink go to waste either so im onto my third/sixth now.

Tagged by @clints-lucky-arrow (an actual goddess among us mortals)

1. Why did you choose your URL?

So this reason is two-fold. One, I didn’t watch star wars growing up because I was dumb and didn’t understand the politics (it wasn’t until my boyfriend sat me down and explained it literally in January of this year that I actually got it) but I loved Sci-fi and space so the next best thing was Treasure Planet (2003 film, Available on didney+) My favourite scene is the ending when Long John Silver (spoilers) is about leave before he can be arrested and Jim confronts him. Seeing how much his character has grown, Silver says to Jim, “Look at you, glowing like a silver fire. You’re something special, Jim. You’re gonna rattle the stars, you are.” It literally makes me tear up every single time I watch it and its one of my favourite lines of all time. Second, this was actually quoted in one of my favourite book series ‘Throne of glass’ by Sarah J Maas. I adore the character of Celeana and again one of my favourite quotes from TOG is when Queen Elena says to Celeana“ You could rattle the stars. You could do anything, if only you dared.” Every time I read that line I literally get chills and I actually have plans to get this tattooed on me lmao

2. Any side blogs?

Yes my fanfic blog @second-stars-totheright (I like puns and I used to love peter pan)

3. How long have you been on tumblr?

I joined when I was 13 for the fanfiction and lurked for a very long time, just reblogging and liking things until I deleted it when I was 17. Re downloaded the app and got my account back back around February of this year (when I was 19, now 20) and since then I’ve found it much friendlier and actually interacted with people this time around, and actually started posting my work on here!

4. Do you have a queueue tag?

No. This is my general postings blog so I just kind of stick anything funny or worth keeping here, but I probably should make one!

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

As I said to read fanfiction (anyone wondering it was 5 seconds of summer fanfiction. Anyone who judges me in the comments its fair game 🥺) but I re-downloaded it this year because I noticed with my work on Wattpad, while I had some do really well (one has gotten 130k+ views) its very difficult to actually interact with readers and get feedback. I’ve only accumulated that high of a number after 5 years of it being on there, and so tumblr is just so much more personal!

6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

I did it this morning as I was getting tagged in this lmao. I wanted a cartoon girl who looked like me but because I had a specific colouring (ie my hair is black with a blonde streak at the front & my eyes have both blue and green segments because I have heterochromia) I couldn’t find any that looked like me so I recoloured a cartoon girl I found on pinterest.

7. Why did you choose you header?

The white clouds fit the stars theme and it looks pretty with the purple. ✨💜

8. Whats your post with the most notes?

“That girl is a problem | Javier Pena x Agent!Reader part 1” with 105 notes on my fanfic blog.

9. How many mutuals do you have?

I am still a little tumblr idiot when it comes to this so if someone could tell me how to find out I'll edit this

10. How many followers do you have?

72 on here, 107 on my fanfic blog (AND I LOVE ALL OF YOU ACROSS BOTH OF THEM MWAH, MWAH KISSES FOR YOU ALL 💜💜💜)

11. How many people do you follow?

165 (it was 700+ but the other day I unfollowed a bunch of accounts that haven’t been active since I followed them when I was 13. There were LOTS)

12. Have you ever made a shit post?

I mean all you have to do is look at the Nomad memes I make (UNAPOLOGETICALLY I might add 😤) for @clints-lucky-arrow to know I absolutely have. That series has a hold over me im telling you. I black out when I start reading and I awake with a bunch of meme editing apps open and my feelings tugged at from her amazing writing.

13. How often do you use Tumblr each day?

If I’m with my boyfriend which is like two days a week, rarely, but now I’ve finished uni, I’m on here all the god damn time. I feel so comfy and safe interacting with you all, not to mention some of you guys are funny as hell.

14. Did you have a fight with a blog once?

Not really on here, I haven’t received any hate luckily but I prefer not to spoil how comfy I am here with arguing.

15. How do you feel about ‘you need to re-blog this’ posts?

I’m a little confused by this I dunno whether I’ve just never come across any like this or if Stars is being a bimbo on the tl again. However, I only reblog things I’d like to keep for future reference or if something deserves to be shared to everyone else like a fic rec or a piece of art. (As Mack said, I’ve re-blogged so many in the past promising me money or luck and I am still broke as shit so what does that tell you).

16. Do you like tag games?

Yes!! I love reading everyone elses and getting to know my mutals better!

17. Do you like ask games?

Again yesss because it means I get to send love to my mutuals and get to know them better! I tend to not participate though just read their responses because I sometimes feel like I’m bugging people clogging their inboxes even though I know that’s the point idk I’m a hell of an over thinker sometimes 🥳

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

It’s been said before but @clints-lucky-arrow (wow you rlly owning this post bby girl) but I just remember lurking on Nomad early February and liking and reblogging her chapters so I could keep them to re-read cause that’s how much I instantly loved it and when she followed me I realised who she was and lowkey had a starstruck moment bcus id been ciaght up in her work for weeks and too nervous to make contact. Also @arduadastra, I saw her work all over the pedro tags for so long and now I’ve gotten to know her she is the sweetest girl!! We usually fan over Javier Pena gifs together, she’s solely responsible for ‘That girl is a problem’ bcus of her gif sending at 1am giving me Javi thots and now it’s my most successful one on my blog. And most recently @pedrosgirlx followed me this morning and her work is genuinely some of the best I've seen on here, as I said this morning it is the Sistine Chapel ceiling of Mando art it is actually jaw dropping!! I cant believe all these creators are rlly giving us this content for free and yet being so talented AND the nicest people I’ve ever met!!

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

No, although I hold a lot of them dearly as friends. 15/10 would treat you lovelies to a drink of your choice if we ever met (any of you from the uk who drink I’d get you a pitcher from Whetherspoons)

20. Absolutely no pressure tags:

anyone who wants to join! a lot of people I would have tagged have already posted theirs so go for it if you like the look of it!

[hephaestiions]

thank you @stavromulabetaaa for tagging me in this wonderful game!! it’s so much fun and such a lovely way to get to know the people behind the blogs that make the fandom experience better <33 

1. why did you choose your url?

why did i choose this url? i saved the url way before i made the blog, and the reasoning is a bit foggy but i do remember wanting to be very clear on it being a drarry blog (makes the anon who sent me the ‘why do u rb so much drarry’ ask that much more hilarious) and added the ‘oh’ because it expresses a certain sentiment that most drarry shippers are intimately familiar with 😂

2. sideblogs?

this blog is itself a sideblog, my main is @yesperfahey . that said, i am going to be embarrassingly exposed, but:  @kitchenism (aesthetic sideblog where i rb reference photos, aesthetic images, web weaving posts, etc.), @geetstudies (studyblr), @yusufalkasayni (for films/tv shows, it was supposed to inspire me to watch more stuff but it’s languishing inactive mostly), @doriangray (dark academia, classics, pretty edits + moodboards + occasional fashion inspiration, etc.), @psykhes (mythology), @andrewminyyard (for aftg and trc) and @stevenroguers (for marvel and stucky). i have a few others but they aren’t particularly relevant or active and i don’t want this to go on forever. 

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

i think about 5/6 years. 

4. do you have a queue tag?

yes!!! it’s potteresqueue !! i have a separate queue tag for every single one of the blogs you’ve seen up top but this one is one of my favourites. 

5. why did you start your blog?

i started my main because tumblr was the fandom hub and i was neck deep in drarry as a teenager, but this specific sideblog happened when i started segregating my interests into separate blogs and wanted to be more active specifically in the drarry fandom. 

6. why did you choose your icon?

it’s a picrew of me from my favourite picrew!! it’s too slytherin from back when i thought i was a slytherin and i might change the colours a little to fit the ravenclaw vibe better, but the slightly grumpy lesbian is here to stay <33 

7. why did you choose your header?

i searched up drarry headers and this was one of the first ones i found. i think i’m going to change it, because while it does fit the aesthetic of my blog, i’m all about desi!harry. much as i love dan radcliffe, he’s stopped being the harry i imagine in my head. 

8. post with most notes?

this one which is surprising, because i posted it,,,, two days ago, i think? people seem to enjoy me writing fluff, who would’ve thought. i’m not a big blog and i don’t create a ton of original content on tumblr, so it’s not objectively a ‘big post’ but it makes me happy either way to know a bunch of people chose to spend their time reading what i had to say <33 

9. how many mutuals do you have?

tumblr’s system for checking this is... very basic and full of holes so i have no idea but i get very excited whenever an url i recognise likes/reblogs/comments/tags me in anything, so if you’re a mutual, then please know i cherish you deeply and you make my day whenever i see you in my notifs <33 

10. how many followers do you have?

tumblr hides this for a reason, i choose to not share this <3 

11. how many people do you follow?

520. i used to follow upwards of 900, but i purged many inactive blogs a few months ago so we’re at 520. 

12. ever made a shitpost? not with that specific intention, i don’t think, but the #geets.txt tag on this blog and others feels plenty shitpost-y to me. 

13. how often do you use Tumblr each day?

😬  i’m... very online. tumblr is my safe space on the internet and i spend a great deal of time on here with little regret. 

14. did you ever have a fight/argument with another blog?

i don’t think so? i’ve got a couple rude anons, but those don’t count, right? there was a whole Situation on my main once upon a time, but i stay pretty chill on this one and i hope it stays that way. 

15. how do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

i choose to ignore that line if it’s there. if i agree with the message and think it’s an important one to have on my blog, then i reblog, but if it’s a post that’s either fishing or guilt-tripping or being threatening, then i scroll past. i understand where the sentiment comes from but there’s a better way to phrase these things. 

16. do you like tag games?

i love them, they’re so much fun. 

17. do you like ask games?

yes!! ‘someone thought of me?? someone remembered me? someone went into my askbox to say this???? i am a puddle of love’ 

18. which of your tumblr friends/mutuals do you think is famous?

fame on tumblr is a myth, honestly 

19. do you have a crush on a mutual? so many tumblr crushes. So. Many. everybody is so lovely, so welcoming, so full of excitement and appreciation for art and creativity, how could i not? 

tagging @shealwaysreads @tackytigerfic @dragontamerdame @onbeinganangel @the-starryknight @orange-peony @drarrymybeloved @amortentiaboys @hogwartsfirebolt if they want to do it/haven’t already done it. this was quite a bit of fun so if you want to do it and i haven’t tagged you, then this is an open tag for you too <3 

[path-of-my-childhood]

"Miss Americana" Director Lana Wilson on Capturing Taylor Swift, Mid-Transformation

By: Chris Willman for Variety Date: January 31st 2020

Lana Wilson was taking a risk - albeit a pretty good bet - when she set out to make what turned out to be “Miss Americana,” her new Netflix documentary. As Taylor Swift told Variety: 

“When I began thinking about maybe possibly having a documentary-type thing happen, it was really just because I felt like I would want to have footage of what was happening in my life, just to have later on in my life, even if we never put it out, or even if we put it out decades down the line. When we brought Lana on board, I was pretty open with her about the fact that this may be something that I wasn’t actually ready to put out. So I think we began the process without a lot of pressure, because I didn’t necessarily think that it was an actual eventuality to put out the documentary.”

Wilson was too fascinated by what she was getting early on to worry much about whether her subject would sign off on releasing it. At the outset, she was catching Swift at the end of the “Reputation” album/tour cycle, when Swift was finding a more contented place in her personal life and finally exorcising Kanye-gate from her system. The star quickly moved on to the making of “Lover,” her most upbeat album, with Wilson getting fly-on-wall footage that captures the joy of creation and eureka moments in the writing process in a way few films ever have. And then things got more interesting altogether when Swift decided that the days she could afford to be standoffish about what was happening in the country had come to an end. The movie - and by now, it was a movie - had its third act.

Variety spoke with Wilson for the magazine’s cover story last week on Swift, prior to “Miss Americana’s” Sundance premiere. Here’s a breakout of more of that conversation.

There is some footage in the movie that goes back a few years that clearly predates your involvement. When did you start filming - was it during the “Lover” writing and recording sessions or the “Reputation” tour before that? I came on during the tour. She had been collecting bits and pieces of footage; she often filmed stuff with her own cell phone - songwriting stuff. Netflix introduced us, and we really hit it off the first time we met. She had watched my previous work, and I had admired her for years, not just for her music, but also the fact that she had written all of her own songs since she was 15, and that she’s the sole creative force behind the whole shape of her career. When we met, I remember being excited that she didn’t want to make a traditional pop star documentary. She knew that she was in the middle of a really important time in her life, coming out of a very dark period, and wanted me to collaborate on something that captured what she was going through that was raw and honest and emotionally intimate.

When we first talked about it, she immediately wanted me to bring my perspective as a director to what was going on with her now and to make a film that really had something to say. I think the first time we met, we talked for 20 minutes about narrative structure in documentaries, and we even talked about film score in documentaries. At one point she said that she didn’t like documentaries that are like propaganda, and I was thrilled to hear that. In my work, I take stories that are often told through sound bites and headlines and bring depth and complexity to them. My goal is always to reveal the humanity that’s beneath the oversimplification. And to me, there are few things more frequently diminished and reduced by others than female creative forces.

It could be seen as a feminist statement, or at least some kind of intention on her part, that she picked someone who’d made an abortion documentary (“After Tiller”). It could also mean that she was just more comfortable with a woman. I think that’s totally true. When I started filming, it was before she’d come out politically. But that said, even before meeting her, I could only imagine how much pressure and scrutiny she’d faced as a powerful and successful female artist. And I definitely sensed that those pressures would be ones that other people and especially other women and girls could relate to. Obviously, yeah, I’m a female artist working in a male-dominated industry. So although Taylor and I inhabit very different worlds, I figured that we’d have some shared experiences. And I also worked with an all-female crew, which I do think helped her feel comfortable right off the bat, and a small crew. When I met her, she hadn’t done an interview in almost three years. The first one she did was an audio (-only) interview with me for this film. So it was a big deal, and trust was a big part of that.

You had an all-female crew, but Morgan Neville’s name is on there as a producer, and he’s not a gal. [Laughter.] What’s his role in it? He was a part of the creative process, and it was wonderful to get to work with him, as a creative sounding board, from start to finish. On the crew, I will say that we did always have male production assistants, because I like trying to show people that men can fetch coffee for women, and not just the other way around! So that was the only exception to the all-female rule.

It had to have been a small crew, when you were filming the fly-on-the-wall creative stuff in the recording studios, sometimes in very small control rooms. It was often just me and one or two other people in the room with her, trying to keep the footprint as small as possible. You know, no one had filmed her writing songs before. That was some of my favorite stuff to film, but it was also the stuff where we tried to really be the most low-key presence possible. You’re just in a tiny room, and it feels so amazing to watch her get in the zone creatively. One of the most fun parts for me as a director is when it feels like you’ve been in the studio for enough hours that everyone is so relaxed that you really feel invisible in a wonderful, exciting way.

When she’s having the talk with her team about wanting to make endorsements for the midterm elections, which is maybe the most important scene in the film, it’s not clear if that is something you shot or if that was something that was on the spur of the moment, where she had someone get a camera in your absence. That was spur of the moment. So that was something someone on her team shot who was pretty good with the camera. That was very last minute. I’d been starting to work with her and talk with her before that, and I’d say, “If something’s happening last-minute that could be at all important or meaningful, film it with your cell phone, of if there’s someone around you that has a little DSLR camera or something, they could film it.” It allowed us to get really powerful, crucial scenes like that one that might’ve been hard logistically to get otherwise. And I love the personal quality of that material from especially the few little bits of stuff from her cell phone.

She told us she wasn’t sure she wanted to actually make or release a movie when filming started. Did she make that clear to you when it started? Like, this might be on spec, and might not come out? Well, it was less talking about the end result and more, honestly, just talking about what she was going through emotionally at that time and the kind of things that were on her mind. Then we’d brainstorm stuff that could be cool to film. I love the idea of filming really quiet, almost more mundane moments, because I think that ordinary/extraordinary contradiction that’s so central to the life of someone in the public eye is really interesting. I loved that moment early in the film where she’s alone in the car in the dark after the show riding to her hotel room - the idea of going from being on a massive stage in front of tens of thousands of people to being an ordinary person alone just going to bed at the end of the night.

She’s already been pretty candid with her fans. There are moments in the film where she’s shown as being annoyed with the fans and photographers gathered outside her door and that sort of thing. Do you think she felt okay with being portrayed as not being happy at all times? Oh yeah, totally. She’s a complex human being, and I think whether you like her music or not, if you watch this movie, you really get to know her as a human. And as you say, she writes so candidly in her lyrics about the hardest times, the times when she made mistakes. And that is what her fans love her for. But a lot of people don’t share their hard times. The most popular photos on Instagram are of weddings and babies, when what’s really relatable and what’s meaningful is connecting with someone over that time things weren’t perfect, or the friendship or relationship that didn’t work out, or the argument you had with your mom or something. You know, everyone wants to feel less alone in the more difficult experiences in life. And that’s one reason why they turn to art. And I think it’s why people watch movies. And the happy moments are meaningful when you’ve also been through the sad ones. Young girls need to see that their heroes are just as human as they are. And I think girls and boys of all ages could benefit from that reminder.

I want people to be surprised by it because I think that Taylor Swift is someone who everyone thinks they know. But I think if people start watching this film, they’ll realize they’re watching a film about this iconic artist deciding to live life on her own terms, and it’s a feminist coming of age story. I think they’ll be surprised by her sense of humor and her self-awareness, and they can appreciate the craft of songwriting, for instance. So I hope that even if people are not fans, that they’ll watch the movie and be really surprised and also feel like they’ve just met a complicated, layered human being.

Very few people at the superstar level have the gift of healthy self-awareness that she seems to have. Self-consciousness, yes, but self-awareness, that’s more rare. Yeah, it’s so true. I’m sure you’ve seen bits of the home movies in some of her videos in the past. When I looked at the home movies, what struck me the most about them is that she really always has been the same person. She’s been kind and generous and smart and imaginative and very hardworking since she was a girl. At age 11 she knew exactly what she wanted to do with her life. One of my favorite moments in the archives in the film is this clip of her, where she’s like in a diner and it’s just after the release of her first album, and she’s 16. Her childhood dream has just come true. And she tells the interviewer that she wakes up everyday being like, “Yes, this is happening.” But then she tells herself, “Now you have to figure out how to make it last.” That is so her. She had so much maturity and pretentiousness then, and she knew she wanted this to be her career and her life, and she wanted to write songs forever. It’s incredible to see a person at that age that self-possessed and cognizant.

At one point she says she wants to use her platform to speak out because she’s aware she won’t be in this position forever, where her opinions have some kind of import. Not that she’s predicting a major downfall, but she knows she won’t always have this attention. That’s undoubtedly true, but at the same time, she’s one of the only ones besides Beyonce that we would imagine being almost as big a star in 20 years, and not necessarily subject to the normal standards of diminishment of interest. She’s conscious of the historically short lifespan of female pop stars, and it’s so poignant when she says that. But it’s hard to know what will happen, though, because she issuch a trailblazer. I mean, there’s just been no one like her, and her fan base and the relationship she has with her fans is so unique, and, I mean, she’s already done so many things that no one else has done before — who knows what will happen in the future? She is cognizant of what’s happened in the past and what’s going to happen in the future … but it could be anything, because she’s different than anyone that’s come before.

We can hope we all live long enough to find out what a 50- or 60-year-old Taylor Swift is like. I love that idea too. I want to go to the arena tour of a 60-year-old Taylor Swift. I want to know what the songs she’s writing then are.

The last third of the film focuses on her decision to make a political statement and what comes after. It was a profound decision for her to make, and a multilayered one. In that, I saw this feminist coming-of-age story that I personally connected with, and that I really think women and girls around the world will see themselves in.

You didn’t actually have the “Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince” song in the movie, but that’s the song on the album that most speaks to her political turn. So it seemed like a good thing to title the movie after? It was cool because it’s obviously, yeah, a reference to this song she wrote that has political themes. It was interesting that when the documentary was announced, her fans instantly understood some of the themes the film would have, because of the song title. And then for me, even if you don’t know the song, I see the movie as in some ways looking at the flip side of being America’s sweetheart. So I like how the title evokes that, too.

You have the twin moments of disappointment in the movie. Early on, you have the Grammy disappointment, and then later there’s the midterm result disappointment. Those are the parallel scenes, almost, where she’s having to deal with the results not turning out as she planned and one of these ultimately being more important than the other. I’m glad you noticed that. That means a lot. One thing that I think is amazing about her is that she goes to the studio and to songwriting as a place to process what she’s going through. I loved how, when she got the Grammys news, this isn’t someone who’s going to feel sorry for herself or say “That wasn’t right.” She’s like, “Okay, I’m going to work even harder.” And I think it’s amazing how you see her strength of character in that moment when she gets that news. Then with the election results, I loved how she channeled so many of her thoughts and feelings into this song (“Only the Young”). It was a great way to kind of show how stuff that happens in her life goes directly into the songs. You get to actually witness that in both cases.

Were you surprised that she addressed having had what could be described as an eating disorder? She seems hesitant to use that term but finally does. She’s been open about so many things, but that’s not something that she’s revealed. No, that’s one of my favorite sequences of the film. I was surprised, of course. But when you hear her talk about it, I love how she’s kind of thinking out loud. And yeah, she’s an icon of beauty, but even for an icon of beauty, as she articulates so beautifully, women are in this double bind situation. It’s impossible for anyone to meet every standard of beauty. It’s an impossible situation. And every woman will see herself in that sequence. I just have no doubt. And I do think people will be really surprised by it.

I tend to be clueless about these minor shifts in weight or body size, until people point them out en masse. It never would have occurred to me that she was any less thin on the “Reputation” tour until I started seeing comments about weight gain. But there are those who have their antennae out for the slightest change, and often it’s women, maybe it’s because you’re under that scrutiny yourselves. But you can also just not notice people being really skinny, because we’re all so accustomed to seeing women on magazine covers who are unhealthy skinny, and that’s become normalized. I think it’s interesting what you say about what you read during “Reputation” about her weight, because you really can’t win. There is a moment in the film where you see that part of the media backlash she experienced during 2016 was people saying, “Oh, she’s too skinny.” People complain if you’re too skinny, and if you’re not too skinny, you’re too fat. It’s incessant, and I can say this as a woman: It’s amazing to me how people are constantly like “You look skinny” or “You’ve gained weight.” People you barely know say this to you. And it feels awful, and you can’t win. So I think it’s really powerful to see someone who is a role model for so many girls and women be really honest about that. It’s a brave thing of her to do, and I think it will have a huge impact.

Her interactions with Kanye West are such an essential part of the story, but that’s not a name that has really ever escaped her lips publicly since 2010; she’ll say “a person” or something euphemistic if she has to address it. So I was in suspense to see whether or how much it would come up in your film,  given how little capital she wants to give this guy in her life. It’s a crux, twice, of her journey of self-acceptance, but it’s easy to imagine her not wanting it in the film. I think it’s an important part of the story, but I wanted to position… Like, with the 2009 VMAs, what was surprising to me when I asked her about it was that she talked about how the whole crowd was booing, and she thought that they were booing her, and how devastating that was. That was something I hadn’t thought about or heard before. And it meant a lot more to me because it made more sense in the context of her being this extraordinary young artist who is doing so well, and who, like so many performing artists, loves applause. And then she is on stage [still as a teenager] and it felt like all these people were booing her. When you put it that way, it’s so much more relatable to me, and it’s understandable to anyone, because we all want people to like us. And being on stage with a giant crowd booing would be horrible for anyone. So we tried to use it in a way that showed it in a slightly different light than people have seen before... We all care about what people think about us. It’s not a celebrity problem. It’s a universal one. It’s something everyone goes through, and I think the difference is that with Taylor, it plays out on a massive international stage.

At the outset, you’ve got her in voiceover talking about how she wanted to be the good girl and be accepted. And in the end, she is a good girl, so maybe that’s not a bad thing to want to be, but there are gradations of that. She’s played around with bad girl archetypes in the “Reputation” imagery and songs, but it was role-playing to a degree. Where do you think she ended up on the scale of all that? She starts out as a good girl and she ends up as a good girl who’s decided to speak out. You know, we live in a society in which girls are taught that other people’s approval is of paramount importance to our self-worth. “Do they like me? Was I nice enough? Are they mad at me?” Every woman I know is constantly asking herself these questions. So it’s so relatable in that way. But it’s not about not being a good person. I think that the arc in the film and what Taylor went through was letting go a little bit of what other people think of her, deciding to live on her own terms, and to put her own values first. The transformation that you see is going through this period where she lets go a little bit of that. She’s a good girl speaking out now, in a way. You can’t win everyone over. No one can. I think she’s really accepted that in a deep way.

[fanfic-corner]

Under 10,000 Words

16/12/20 - I can never figure out what my favourite length of fic is, but I think it depends on my mood. Sometimes I want a huge, 200,000 word journey, and sometimes I just want a quick drabble. Anyway, here are some fics which are all between 2,000 and 10,000 words, organised by the word count.

Sleep Deprivation by Honey_Honey on AO3. (2,313 words).

Tags: Cute, First Kiss.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: The one where killing monsters leaves Dean without a week of sleep, and Cas has to deal with the consequences.

Notes: This was so fluffy and cute and I can totally imagine Dean overthinking everything while Sam just finds the whole situation hilarious.

That One Time Sam Winchester Googled Something Weird and It Had Pretty Awesome Results by quitepossiblyjanuary on AO3. (2,587 words).

Tags: Romantic Fluff, First Kiss, Stars, Humor, Courtship, Short & Sweet.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: In which Sam Googles something and his curiosity doesn’t kill the cat. Or him. Or anyone. It’s a pretty awesome feeling.

Notes: This was so adorable! Gabe was so sweet, and his mind reading skills made me laugh.

What Can’t Be Seen by destieldrabblesdaily on AO3. (2,639 words).

Tags: Soulmate AU, author!Cas, Strangers to Lovers, First Kiss.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Written for this prompt: Soulmate AU where you first see color after eye contact: Cas is a famous best selling author and he’s promoting his book, so he’s talking to a crowd of people and suddenly his world is in color, and a lot of his fans pretend to be his soulmate. A Cinderella type situation ensues.

Notes: This was really cute and such a sweet and funny idea.

The Tea is Decaf by mnwood on AO3. (3,673 words).

Tags: POV Castiel, Fluff, Sign Language, Castiel in the Bunker, Canon Compliant, Sharing Clothes, Asexual Castiel, Gentle Dean, Non-Explicit Sex, Domestic, Established Relationship.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Based on this text post from thebloggerbloggerfun: “Listen, imagine Eileen sneaking out of Sam’s room at night to go to the bathroom or something and steps out into the hallway in one of Sam’s shirts only to see Cas trying to quietly leave Dean’s room while wearing one of Dean’s shirts and they both just stare at each other awkwardly for a few seconds before trying to muffle quiet laughter and now they have a late night club where they talk about life and gossip about the Winchesters in sign language"And this anon I received: "what if Eileen and Cas discover there are some things Sam and Dean both do in bed because Dean jokingly gave Sam pointers when they were younger and Sam took the advice”.

Notes: This has to be one of my favourite fics of all time, even though the first time I read it I hadn’t even met Eileen yet! I’m still so pissed off that she wasn’t in the finale (unless we’re counting Blurry Wife?).

surely heaven wants for you by cenotaphy on AO3. (3,782 words). 

Tags: Episode: s15e20 Carry On, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Heaven, Coda, Post-Finale, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Dean, Outdoor Sex.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: Cas doesn't come to him. Dean can't really argue with that, given the circumstances. In all the history of balls in courts, he thinks there might never have been a ball as thoroughly in a court as this one is in his. He drives for what feels like a long time but might just be a single sunny afternoon, or maybe years (time's funny here, Bobby had said), just enjoying the music, the shifting landscape outside his window, the hum and creak of the engine. Finally the forest opens up and the road narrows down in a way that he's fairly certain wouldn't typically happen on any kind of earthly interstate, and he glides the car to a halt at the edge of a lake.

Notes: This was so beautiful and such a interesting exploration of Dean’s feelings!

a quick salt and burn by xylodemon on AO3. (4,609 words).

Tags: Episode Related, Cemeteries, Case Fic.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: "Fuck," Dean mutters, wincing as pain throbs in his shoulder and neck. After the ghost chucked him into the hedge, he hit the ground like ton of bricks and clipped an exposed tree root so old it was practically petrified. "So much for a quick salt and burn."

Notes: This is adorable and hilarious, so a double win.

Funny Bone by PallasPerilous on AO3. (4,933 words).

Tags: Fluff and Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Skeletons, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Alternate Universe - No Angels, Canon Divergence, Mild Gore.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: It wasn’t even a particularly creepy skeleton; it was in kind of a “just chillin’” pose on the floor. One ankle was still locked up in a heavy iron cuff, at the end of a short chain leading back to the wall. Snoresville, as dead stuff goes; Dean’s seen worse at Disneyland. It was the skeleton’s comment about Dean’s ass that really livened things up.

Notes: This has to have been one of the funniest fics I have ever read, but oh boy did I feel bad for poor Cas.

Grace by july_19th_club on AO3. (5,164 words).

Tags: Fix-It, Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, Resurrection, Reciprocated Confession.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: A man dies. What happens next will shock you. [script]

Notes: This was written beautifully, and now I really want to see this filmed! So much better than the ending we got.

(un)conventional by imogenbynight on AO3. (6,100 words).

Tags: Alternate Universe, mechanic!Dean, Writer!Castiel, Conventions, Fluff.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Spec Lit Con--Speckly Con, to it’s regular attendees--is an annual weekend-long event held in Chicago, dedicated to science fiction, fantasy and otherwise speculative literature. This year Dean's favorite author, C.J. Novak, is appearing as a panelist. Naturally, he shells out the cash for an all access pass.

Notes: This was so adorable that I nearly screamed in the corridor outside my computer science lesson. Plus, the writing was absolutely gorgeous! I miss conventions :(

La Vie A Plus by K_K_TiBal on AO3. (6,260 words)

Tags: Punk Castiel, Asexual Castiel, College/Uni AU, Roommates, oh my god they were roommates, College Student Dean, College Student Castiel, Pining, First Kiss, Misunderstandings, Art Student Castiel, Love Confessions, Gabriel is a Little Shit, Tattooed Castiel.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Dean Winchester is hopelessly, head-over-heels in love with his best friend and roommate, Castiel. Castiel - with his blue hair, and his tattoos, and his artwork, and his perfect everything. Dean never stood a chance, really. It only sucks because, as far as Dean can tell, Castiel is definitely not interested. But love, much like art, has a way of being unpredictable. Even if you think you know where you’re going with it.

Notes: The angst is strong in this one! Again, I feel like many aces have had this conversation or that fear that people (allos, especially) may not want to be with them.

Event Horizon by Winglesss on AO3. (6,442 words).

Tags: Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal Dean, Depression, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Past Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Texting, Sharing a Bed, Happy Ending, Veteran Dean, Doctor Dean, Writer Castiel, Strangers.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: Castiel couldn't have helped his sister. That's why being offered a chance to help somebody else dealing with suicidal thoughts he took it without hesitation. When he gets the first text from someone who needs his help, nothing goes as he expected.

Notes: I don’t know if that kind of suicide prevention scheme exists, but this fic is very sweet.

I Think That’s Mine by palominopup on AO3. (6,804 words).

Tags: Fluff, AU, Reporter!Dean, Writer!Cas.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: A mix up at the Atlanta Airport places Dean Winchester's laptop in someone else's possession. A series of calls and texts bring two men together.

Notes: This was so cute, Cas was so sweet, and Dean was an icon.

Nothing Equals the Splendor by RurouniHime on AO3. (7,865 words).

Tags: Fix-It, Post-Episode: s15e20 Carry On, Angst with a Happy Ending, Grief, Explicit Sexual Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Declarations of Love, Canon Compliant, Minor Injuries.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Maybe it’s the cynic in him. The hunter, always under the surface of any quietude he ever found. Or maybe it’s just that he has always had trouble with blind faith. But after a while (a blink? A decade? A century?), Dean raises his eyebrows, looks around, and says—

“Uh. No.”

It’s so close. Just so slightly imperfect. And maybe, he analyzes, maybe that’s the final knell of this bell called contentment. Dean’s experience with happiness has always been that last rise in the road, right before it turns. Right before fate comes barreling around the corner head on. He turns in his spot on the bridge, and suddenly Sam is like a cellophane film through which he can see the light streaming, and the taste of cheap beer on his tongue is much, much older a memory than it should be.

“Oh, you’re good,” he says, and means it.

Notes: What a great idea, and written so well! I always thought the show could have done so much more with djinns, but never mind.

In the House of the Rising Bun by imissmaeberry on AO3. (9,046 words).

Tags: Bakery and Coffee Shop, Baker Dean, Barista Sam, College Campus, Poet Castiel, Mutual Pining, Daddy Issues, Background Sam/Jess, Past Balthazar/Castiel.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Dean Winchester only has three rules concerning the cafe he and his brother Sam own, “House of the Rising Bun”.

1. Any and all opportunities to make a pun will be taken. 2. Free regular coffee with your student ID (If you want some of that fancy nonsense you gotta pay, sorry kids). 3. Anyone and everyone is always welcome.

Between Dean running the shop full-time and Sam helping out whenever he isn’t in class, there really isn’t a whole lot of time for romance for either of them. But that all changes when they gain a new regular - some writer from London - who may or may not have the bluest eyes Dean’s ever seen.

Notes: First of all, the puns were amazing and I am willing to fight people on that. Secondly, that was so sweet and funny I am afraid I might have to disappear under mysterious circumstances and open my own cafe…

I hope you enjoy these! I haven’t read any new fics for this list and even then there were way too many to put on one list, so expect a sequel at some point in the future!

[copias-thrall]

This is Halloween (Halloween)

Mary expands Suey's world by taking her to a crazy art party.

(Part: 1; 2; 3; 4; 5; 6; 7; 8; 9)

It’s one of the stretches where you actually haven’t seen Mary in a few days. He’d apparently been by your apartment—dishes were done and he took out your trash—but you’d spent that day hunkered down at a coffee shop so you could have sandwiches with a friend who got a job downtown. And while Mary can be lyrical when he wants to be, his texts are usually brief and full of letters that only make sense to him in his shorthand … so you’re not ever going to get any missives from the front lines from him.

Which is fine: you’re super-busy and full of your own hobbies. Like napping. And complaining. Occasionally you’ll round that out with chip-eating. You’ve never been particularly creative—which makes Mary wince at you every now and then (you love art, you’re just not … adept, and sometimes it seems unfair that he can write music AND lyrics AND doodle great sketches)—but you are a voracious reader. You’d been shocked to find out that not only had Mary read Austen, but he also had a love of Persuasion—a novel you yourself found superior to Pride & Prejudice. He’d been similarly chuffed when he’d realized you liked Chuck Palahniuk for more than just Fight Club. 

Which is all to say that when Mary’s not around, you like to combine your hobbies—a little chip eating while you read, only to fall asleep with the book on your face. 

Tonight is no exception.

It’s nearly Halloween (it’s tomorrow actually, and you’re only slightly bummed that Mary has to work), so in honor of the holiday you’re working your way through an anthology of Lovecraft. Unexpectedly, there's a knock at your door. You check your phone, but there are no texts.

Hmm.

There’s another knock, so you set down the book and sprint to your bedroom to take up what Mary has dubbed your “Masher Hammer.” You make it back to your apartment door just in time for a third series of knocks. When you look out the peephole, however, it’s clear that whoever’s on the other side is blocking the viewer.

Gripping your hammer tight—ready for swing mode—you unlatch your door and open it.

You’re met with the sight of a Jack O’Lantern. 

No—

Not a Jack O’Lantern … some guy with a carved pumpkin on his head.

“Ta-d—Jesus Christ, Suey … put Masher down,” says a muffled voice.

“Mary?”

Mary lifts the pumpkin—a real pumpkin, not a plastic basket from the dollar store—a little off his head enough for you to make out his face. You lower your swinging arm.

“Why is there a pumpkin on your head? What are you doing here?” 

He spreads his arms out and does jazz hands. “Mischief Night!” 

When you just stand there squinting at him, he finally takes the pumpkin fully off his head. His hair is squashed, and he’s only wearing some light makeup around his eyes and on his lips.

“So, you gonna let me in, or … should I duck?”

“Oh, right,” you say as you step back.

As Mary suanters in, you can see his eyes sweep to the couch where you’ve made a nest of blankets and pillows—your book lying face down, and the open bag chips positioned at an optimal angle on the coffee table.

“That looks nice.” He sidles up to you to squeeze your tits through your hoodie. “Almost makes me want to call it a night and get cozy in those blankets … I could crush those chips and lick them off you before I eat you out.”

His hand slides down to your crotch.

You’re trying to take him seriously, but he’s holding a pumpkin under his arm. You snap at his face.

“Mary—focus. What the hell?”

He gives you a put out look, exaggeratedly pushing out his bottom lip—but it’s soon replaced with a wicked grin.

“Mischief Night! Do you wanna go to a weird-ass art party?”

“An art party?” you ask dubiously.

“No, not what you’re thinking.”

He sets down the carved pumpkin on your table and walks to your fridge, rummaging around before pulling out the pisswater beer he keeps around.

“Think of it as a teen-movie house party—but on steroids and no one there got laid in high school. With, you know: art.”

“That’s … very specific.”

He walks back over to you, cradling the beer in one hand, and puts the other on your shoulder.

“We are under no obligation to participate in the orgy.”

You don’t think he’s joking.

He gives you a once over. “It’s also a—hmm—masquerade, so we gotta get you outfitted.”

Your mind darts.

“I only have those stupid headband cat ears my friend got me as a joke.”

He gives you a vulpine smile. “You’re gonna go as me.”

It had been a fun little party of two as you’d put on a YouTube Halloween playlist from your phone. Mary’d given you a dramatic mohawk with his precious airplane glue, then fished around in the pink makeup bag with hearts (that you’d put his stash in as a joke and he’d kept) to give you his iconic look—blood and all.

There was no way you were going to fit in his skinny jeans, but you’d been able to pair one of his well-worn tees (that you hadn’t already stolen) with your favorite denim skirt. Mary had taken off one of his studded belts to wrap around you—it’d needed a couple of safety pins to act as extensions, but Mary had assured you that that just made the style more authentic. Upon Mary’s request, you’d put on your ripped fishnets, and you had your own worn Docs to complete the look.

“Do I get to be a sex-crazed jerk all night?” you’d asked as you’d admired yourself in the corroded full-length you had propped up by the bathroom.

“You say that as if that’s something new and different for you—fuck ow,” said Mary as you’d tapped his balls.

“So where is this place?” you ask as Mary and you head to the train. 

It’s in the old factory district, which means it’s a ways away, but still subway accessible.

“It’s actually in a converted co-op. I think they started out as squatters—unclear—but now it’s above board as a residence and shit. I used to know a guy who lived there for a while—they had sectioned off areas with screens—and he had a corner so he slept in a hammock. Most of the space is for their art, though. What a fucking life to live.”

You look at him, incredulous. “Mare. You live in a 2 bedroom with 4 other dudes.”

He scoffs at you. “We also have a couch. It’s a whole ‘nother level.”

You just hum at him.

When you finally get there—after a few mis-turns in this silent neighborhood full of abandoned brick factories—you’re surprised (despite Mary’s description) to see that the place is lit. There’s a guy standing at the entrance to the parking lot (that slopes dangerously toward the river) checking attendees; it becomes clear that not only is he checking for 21+, but for alcohol and toilet paper. Those without either have to “donate” $10.

“Oh—” says Mary right before it’s about to be your turn. “I’m not Mary tonight.”

“What should I call, then? The ‘Great Pumpkin’?”

“Just not Mary,” he hisses as you shore up to the “bouncer.”

The guy is not in any kind of costume—just grey sweats and a sports team hat. He’s sitting on a bar stool, and he has a little flashlight he’s using to check IDs.

“Hey, guys!” he says cheerily. “Welcome to Magical Mischief Mystery at the Factory. IDs? Ah! TP and suds? Cool, cool.”

He checks your IDs, then looks at you, then your IDs … then at Mary’s pumpkin face, then at you.

“OH MY GOD,” he starts chortling and slips off the stool to grab Mary’s arm. “Mary, you old bastard—I haven’t seen you since Dusty left to get hitched.”

You take a deep breath and—in your best screamo voice—you say, “I’m fucking Mary Goore,” (not a lie) “and he’s ‘Late for Dinner’.”

The pumpkin head turns to you. You can feel Mary’s unamused gaze.

The bouncer starts wheezing so hard that you’re afraid he might expire from laughing.

“Fuck, fuck,” gasps the dude. He shakes his head, eyes watery from mirth, and waves the two of you through.

“I hate you,” says Mary.

“I didn’t call you ‘Mary’, though,” you quip as you slip your arm through his.

“Why do I have to carry all the shit? Here. Pull your fucking weight.”

Mary hands you the toilet paper roll he heisted from your bathroom.

“Are we going to TP something?” you ask as you take the roll from him.

“Heh. No, it’s purely functional. This many people? It’s so the bathrooms don’t run out.”

The two of you enter with another mass of people, traveling through the miasma of secondhand smoke from the smokers. You cough, but Mary inhales deep, sighing. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but you gape as you look around.

You and Mary stand on an open floor—which is what 5 or so floors look out onto all the way up. The place is crowded, but not jam packed. There’s a makeshift kitchen area where a dude in a bare chest and suspenders is accepting the toilet paper and libations. Above him is a white sheet that’s stretched out, on which an Art Film is being projected. The film has no sound because in the far corner there’s a DJ spinning, and a group of people are “dancing” to his jams. Mary was right: it’s like some kind of frat party for the artsy set. Because of the theme, most everyone is in a mask of some sort, and people—or groups of people—are making out in corners in various states of undress. 

Mary grabs two beers, then leads you to a staircase—there’s a freight elevator by it, but it’s got cheesy Halloween “do not enter” tape blocking it.

“The first year too many people loaded into it, and it dropped 3 floors before the emergency brakes kicked in,” says Mary as he notices where you’re looking.

In a loft on the second floor you and Mary watch a woman—nude and covered in white paint—become the canvas to her girlfriend’s landscape painting.

In what’s clearly a shared bedroom, you and Mary peruse some really great paintings and sketches from what must be a number of the co-op residents.

“You should have told me to bring cash,” you say.

“We can always come back. I know a guy.”

You imagine Mary’s probably winking at you.

On the third floor there’s an inexplicable open-air kitchen attached to a bathroom. In it there’s a dude doling out beer from a keg.

“What’s this,” Mary asks him.

“It’s my homemade IPA, dude! Pumpkin for the season!”

He hands Mary a business card.

“We have a small space in the boonies, but we’re trying to get a brewery up and running in the city. Red tape though, man.”

“I fucking hear that.” Mary takes a sip. “Good shit, dude.”

The guy high-fives Mary.

“One for your girl?”

Mary hands you the solo cup, and you take a sip. You were expecting something grassy and hoppy—but the pumpkin actually balances it out nicely without it itself being cloyingly sweet. When you nod, Mary just lets you have his and indicates to the brewer to pump another cup.

The two of you enter what you think might usually be a studio space, but instead there’s a burlesque performance going on. There are some people making out, but Mary and you watch, rapt, praising the skill of the performers to each other.

The fourth floor has the least amount of people. Someone is doing a reading in one corner, and across the way there’s some sort of performance art going on. A woman stands in a white shift and gauze. Every time a dude who looks like a Nazgul rings a bell, she contorts herself to a different pose with a dancer’s ease.

You roll your eyes, but Mary begs your patience—watching solemnly as she continues.

“What is it?” you ask when the set is clearly over.

“Did you not feel it?”

“Uh …”

Even through the pumpkin you can feel his eyes on you.

“She’s a dancing monkey. Bound and constrained, only ever allowed to perform at the whim of her faceless master.”

“Mary …”

“No—don’t scoff. That was meant for you. It’s an allegory for the patriarchy, and I for one found it quite moving.”

You guess you can see it now that Mary’s pointed it out to you. He takes off the pumpkin, and you hold it while he goes over to talk to the woman. You shift uncomfortably as they engage, and she grabs his hands, shaking them profusely. Mary suddenly points over at you, and the woman waves and motions you over.

“Oh my god, look at you!” she squeals. She turns back to Mary. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it—she looks just like you.”

“I liked your patriarchal allegory,” you say.

Mary twists his mouth at you, but the woman just presses her hands to her chest.

“Thank you so much. I’m testing it out here as a protest piece. A bunch of us are going to travel to different cities and perform outside of big corporations.” She grabs Mary’s wrist. “Your boyfriend is wonderful. His song about—”

“—my band’s song—”

“—the nature of performative gender roles is one of my favs.”

You have no idea which song she’s talking about, but Mary looks pleased. So you’re pleased. You wrap your arm around his waist.

“He is pretty great.”

She lifts her veil to chug the glass of water Nazgul hands her.

“It was so nice to meet you person to person, Mary. I’m going to find the ladies before my next performance.”

“Love your work, Lizzy. I’ll put you on the list for our shows. Show up anytime!”

She bows and shuffles backwards as Mary leads you away.

“You have no idea what song she’s talking about do you?”

“I—” you sputter. “Uh. Dead Things?”

Mary looks at you indulgently.

“I’ll let you think about it.”

It turns out that the 5th floor is off limits to party goers, so Mary—back in his Jack O’Lantern—and you wander down to ground level to acquire more beer and to join the crowd of dancers. At some point the two of you take a break to pee, then hydrate as you add your own dialogue to the film on loop above you.

Back on the dance floor, there’s some skanking, some goth writhing, and some line dancing as the DJ spins his own set and sprinkles in some crowd requests. At this point in the night, most of the attendees have already made passes through the upper floors and are now all on the dance floor. Mary does some goth stomping (his pumpkin abandoned and now being passed around), and you do a silly skank until you slip on a slick spot and fall on your ass. After that, Mary pulls you close and grinds against you, his thigh between yours, both of you buzzed from multiple trips to the bar.

“Do you wanna find a corner?” he whispers into your ear.

In any other situation you’d probably say no … but—for all the crowd is packed—this is clearly a private party, one whose hosts don’t frown upon a little bit of lechery. You guess he wasn’t kidding about the orgy, after all.

“Yeah,” you breathe.

It takes a little investigation, but Mary and you find a room that seems to have been either designated or usurped as the makeout room. There’s a writhing mass in one corner, and the bed is covered in rolling bodies. There’re some breathy invitations—and a hand or two lightly caresses your calf as you walk by—but no one insists on participation further than that. 

Mary yanks a pillow from the bed and tosses it to the floor. He pulls you down so that you’re both on your knees, his mouth capturing yours and his hands alighting everywhere. A hand of his sneaks down your skirt, and yours slithers down his jeans—the roving fingers of you each more a prelude than anything, stoking you both up to what’s next.

“Can I fuck you?” huffs Mary.

“Kinda drunk,” you say.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No—just not gonna be very useful,” you giggle.

Because you wore the fishnets you’re not wearing underwear, so all Mary has to do is rip a hole in the crotch area—they’re not even good fishnets, so it’s not like there’s a liner to contend with. He grunts at your wetness.

“You sure?”

“Fuck me, Mary.”

He fumbles with his dick, finally managing to sink it into you. It’s a very awkward fuck—you’re lolling all about the place, and Mary isn’t being particularly steady.

At one point a light turns on only for a Sorry! to squeal out as it turns off again.

You try to swallow your laugh, but your jiggling belly can’t hide your reaction, and soon Mary is laughing too.

“Fuck … shut up … fuck,” he giggles. “I’m trying to get off here.”

You’re just catapulted into further fits, and before long Mary’s soft cock is slipping out of you as he joins you in snickering.

“Crap. I might be too drunk for this too.”

The two of you lay like that for a bit, a feedback loop of laughter, until your belly muscles ache.

“Fuck. Take me home, Suey.”

“Yeah, ok,” you say. 

After some readjusting, you both stumble out of the room. The crowd has thinned, but that’s not to say the dance party isn’t still going strong.

“We should get a cab,” you say.

“Cash?” Mary asks as you guys shuffle out of the building.

“App,” you say as you hold up your phone to poke at your cab app. “My card s’on file.”

“Fancy.”

“S’for emergencies.”

“Oh.”

You give him a lopsided grin. “Like staying too late at a factory party.”

There’s a comedy of errors when the cab can’t find you and cancels, and you have to rebook—only to have the same cab automatically cancel your order again. Mary calls the number for dispatch, and they direct you out to a main street. The cab that picks you up is the same cab that voided your reservation twice, and he yells at you for giving him the wrong address.

You let Mary argue with him (content to doze on his shoulder)—the conclusion seeming to be that while you put in the correct address, the app didn’t like it and spit out a close, but different, pickup address.

By the end of the trip, however, the cabbie and Mary seem to be old friends. He lingers even after the driver validates your card, talking with the guy about where he’s from, until you tug on his arm.

“Sleepy,” you grumble into him.

The cab driver laughs.

“We are beholden to our women, yes?”

“Happily,” says Mary as he wraps an arm around you.

“Have a good night,” says the cabbie, and Mary just raps on the car, waving as it pulls away.

 “What a cool dude,” he says as the two of you shuffle toward your building.

“Mhm,” you mumble.

“Jesus, you’re useless when you’re drunk.”

There’s a lot of fumbling and stumbling, but you both finally make it into your apartment. Somehow Mary gets you into the shower, which you don’t even realize until it turns on, and you shriek when the cold water smacks you in the face before it has the chance to warm up.

“Why am I still in my clothes?!” you whine.

Mary pokes his head in.

“You fucking serious? You almost bit off my fingers when I tried to undress you!”

“I’m more than just sex!” you yell.

“Just fucking wash your face.”

“Kay.”

You fall asleep sitting in the shower, waking only when the water turns cold. It seems to have had a sobering effect, because you definitely feel more clear headed than when you entered—it’s not as funny to be slightly sober and peeling off your cold, wet clothes. Usually you give your teeth the full experience, but tonight (this morning?), you just give them a quick brush.

For all he seemed soberer of you two, Mary doesn’t seem to have fared much better. He managed to get his shirt off, but he’s lying on your bedroom floor—curled in a ball—still in his unbuckled jeans. It would be amusing—and maybe after sleep it will be—if you weren’t so wrecked. It’s a struggle tugging off his jeans, and he semi-wakes halfway through and starts to shiver.

“Wha—?”

He looks at you blearily.

“Help me get your pants off, Mare bear.”

He blinks down at his legs, then sort of squirms his legs to help you wiggle him out of the black denim. Luckily—disorientated as he is—he’s able to assist you in getting him into your bed; he conks out again the minute you trundle him under the covers. The night outside is lightening, and you know there’s no way you can work tomorrow. Today.

Whatever.

You shuffle into your living room and start up your laptop, blinking rapidly as it boots up. When it finally loads, you send off a missive to your supervisor about potential food poisoning you’ve contracted, but how you’ll check your email later this afternoon. You preemptively down some ibuprofen and sneak some of Mary’s Pedialyte.

Mary seems dead to the world when you climb into your bed, but he’s rolling over and wrapped around you as soon as you’re settled, huffing into your neck.

“Took the morning off,” you mumble.

He hums.

You’re in a good doze when he speaks, jarring you back awake.

“Had fun?”

“Yeah, Mare. Now, shh.”

He mumbles something into your neck, but it’s too incoherent and you’re too knackered to decipher it. You just relax into his koala embrace and let sleep take you.

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[aion-rsa]

The Suicide Squad: How Idris Elba Brings Bloodsport to Life

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Idris Elba has a certain unmistakeable, charismatic vibe about him. The resulting magnetism extends to the wide range of characters he has brought to life over the years – from playing the second-in-command to a drug kingpin in The Wire to playing a guy who has to deal with the likes like Michael Scott in The Office, to playing a dedicated horseman committed to fighting off gentrifying developers in his neighborhood in the recently released Concrete Cowboy. Whether it’s as a leading man or part of a larger ensemble, Elba’s performances always stand out because of what he brings to each role. 

Later this summer, Elba will make his DC Extended Universe debut in James Gunn’s The Suicide Squad – a comic book adaption full of talent who could carry their own features if given the opportunity. We recently spoke with him about his role as the lesser-known comic character Bloodsport and what it was like to be part of such a chaotic batch of DC villains and antiheroes. 

How were you first approached for the role for Bloodsport, and what made you say yes?

James Gunn reached out to me and said he had this project that he wanted to work on and didn’t tell me what it was. We had a meeting pretty late at night [and] what was appealing to me was that it wasn’t a continuation of the last film, and this is a new character. I just wanted to see where James wanted to go with this new film and this new character. So that was really what drew me in.

Bloodsport isn’t a very famous character. So what did you learn about him and what freedom were you given to bring him to life?

Like you say, he’s not very well known so I sort of traced his history back in the DC world. He’s popped up in some places. He’s more of the vigilante soldier type. He’s not going to have special powers, he’s just a really good assassin, basically. That was pretty consistent throughout his history. There was a little bit of leniency between myself and James collaboratively just working it out … what we want to bring to life. I felt very involved in that process, so essentially I got to bring him to life the way we wanted to.

You’re no stranger to superhero movies. You’re an MCU alum and I consider Hobbs & Shaw a superhero movie because you played Brixton Lore, the fantastic “Black Superman” in it. Did you bring any of those experiences to Bloodsport?

Playing any action character requires a level of real dedication just to the amount of work you have to do. So although I’ve been in the Marvel universe, Heimdall isn’t so much of an action character, despite moments where he’s had action. But Brixton in Hobbs & Shaw was 100% full on. Going from that into The Suicide Squad was a great transition because I basically brought some of the things I learned from the experiences I had on Hobbs & Shaw. It’s not the same character, but the level of effort is the same. 

This ensemble cast is one of the wildest we’ve seen in a superhero movie. What was it like to work with everyone? 

That was a lot of fun. It’s challenging keeping your character in one lane while you’ve got these really larger-than-life characters around you, especially Peacemaker who is a natural rival [to Bloodsport]. It’s kind of hard to sort of stay in your character with John Cena, who is incredible with improvisations. And then everyone else has this quick-fire banter, but Bloodsport, he doesn’t even like to talk. It’s like, you don’t want to be too friendly with these people. But I think that’s what’s beautiful about his arc. When you see the movie, he goes on a journey.

The dynamic with the actors is incredible. Really good, nice, hard-working people. James was so specific around timing and comedy and how you say lines and stuff. It was great to be a part of that. It’s almost like he’s a comic strip artist and he had these characters to play with and built these amazing frames. I love working with directors that have a complete vision, but allow you a little bit of latitude to bring it to life.

What was it like wearing that intricate Bloodsport costume?

The suit was very tricky to wear. Each component of his costume does something else, so it’s quite a tricky costume to design. I remember speaking to James about the many machinations of designs that he had gone through with this costume. When I came on board, it had to fit to who I am and how Bloodsport moves. It’s intricate but it looks incredible and badass when you see it in the film, but it was a real journey getting there. 

What are his weapons like?

Just imagine a weapon that can transform from one thing into another and keep going. He’s got a pretty cool array of weapons. 

In the trailer we see Bloodsport in vacation wear, a nice pair of grilling sandals and linen pants. Do you believe that Bloodsport is good on the grill and who would he play Spades or Dominos with and why?

With a name like Bloodsport he’s definitely going to grill. I don’t think he’s the guy that’s seasoning, but I think he’s behind the barbecue with the fire, making sure that meat and blood are cooking. As far as playing games with anyone, he doesn’t do that, he’s solitary, he doesn’t like company, and likes to be alone. He’s very guarded. He just wouldn’t find it interesting to play cards against anyone. He might play chess, maybe, but I don’t think he’s playing Spades at the barbecue.

Earlier this year, there was an announcement about you and your wife, Sabrina, teaming up with your respective production companies to develop an Afro-futuristic animated series. Can you speak to some of the motivation for wanting to put a story like Dantai out into the world?

I can tell you that it’s mainly the brainchild of Sabrina. Her deep passion and history with anime introduced me to it. From my perspective, I just love telling stories, but also this is a medium that’s kind of new and interesting to me, and it feels underserved in many, many ways. Sabrina is a super, super geek when it comes to anime [laughs], so, you know, I’m there. But I’m so engaged from what I’ve learned so far, Crunchyroll is incredible. We want to make something really exciting, hopefully that will maybe even bring more people to the genre.

You don’t know how happy it just made me to hear that your wife is a huge anime fan. I’m a huge anime fan, so finding other Black women who love that art form always makes me happy. So thank you for sharing that.

Yeah. You guys could definitely travel down some wormholes and discuss because she can go deep.

Would you all ever consider developing a superhero story or comic book adaptation?

We haven’t considered it. It would certainly be sort of a natural course of action in terms of how this came about. We would certainly consider that, but right now it’s one step at a time to try and get [Dantai] right and see how we go. But for me, if you know anything about me or my ambitions are out there, so (laughing) I’ll end up doing something in that space for sure.

Retcons and remakes and comics all go hand in hand. Are there any other comic characters you’d love a chance to bring to life, even though you’ve already been in the DC and the Marvel universe?

Well, we all need to see Black Superman but someone else is putting that in the works. But you know, that’s practically my nickname right now. (laughing) I’m being honest. I’m not the best dictionary of comic books [so] I honestly couldn’t speak with authority.

There is a character named Icon from Milestone comics, and although folks don’t like when you refer to him as the Black Superman, he is kind of like that analog. So I mean, there is still a chance for that to happen. 

Oh, really?

Yes.

Wow. Okay. Thank you for that tidbit. What did you say was the name of the company it comes from?

He comes from Milestone Comics. They were a Black imprint. Dwayne McDuffie was part of this startup, but they were an imprint of DC Comics. Static Shock, Icon, Rocket and some other really prominent Black superheroes came from them. I’m sorry. I’m a comic nerd.

No, I did not know that. Who has it now?

DC does. Unfortunately, Dwayne McDuffie passed away. But DC is bringing it back. There are some actual comics that are in the works right now. Static Shock is one of them. I know that. I believe Michael B. Jordan is producing the movie. So they’re around. Yeah. So I’m just putting that bug in your ear.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Thank you very much. That’s great. I’m looking it up as we speak.

The Suicide Squad opens on Aug. 6 in theaters and HBO Max. 

Check out more on The Suicide Squad in the latest issue of Den of Geek!

The post The Suicide Squad: How Idris Elba Brings Bloodsport to Life appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[howaminotinthestrokesyet]

Behind The Album: Appetite For Destruction

In July 1987, Guns N’ Roses released their debut album, Appetite For Destruction. The album would go on to become the biggest selling debut record in music history. Furthermore, it would be the 11th highest selling album of all time in the United States. The strange thing was that the record did not actually achieve this immediate success after its release. Its popularity was a very gradual growth that needed the help of singles, a tour, and music videos including their only number one hit “Sweet Child O’ Mine.” The record company, Geffen, did not do much in the way of promotion for the band, Critics at the time did not think very much of the album at first, but now they all agree that Appetite For Destruction now represents a classic album that changed music.

The recording sessions began in January 1987 as the band had signed with Geffen Records six months prior. They could have signed with Chrysalis Records for twice the money, but they would not give them complete artistic freedom. For their part, Geffen Records did not have very much faith in the album anyway pushing the band to release the EP Live ?!*@ Like A Suicide the previous December. The executives did not feel that GNR had enough material to make a full album, but they did not want to miss out on the buzz that was building about their live shows. Most of the tracks for the album had been written while playing their club shows primarily in LA from 1985-1986. As stated previously, they produced a wealth of material that actually went on their other albums, G N’ R Lies and Use Your Illusion I and II. For example, “November Rain” was seriously considered for this album, but they only wanted one ballad on there, which became “Sweet Child O’ Mine,” a love letter to Axl’s girlfriend Erin Everly. The band considered several producers to record the album including Paul Stanley of Kiss and Mutt Lang, who had produced Def Leppard. The rejection of Lang really came down to the producer being too expensive. The first producer they worked with, Spencer Proffer, actually recorded nine tracks with the band, but he was ultimately rejected. They finally chose Mike Clink, who had produced several records by the band,Triumph. The album would be mostly recorded at Rumbo Studios in the San Fernando Valley. One of the reasons for this decision represented the fact that the location was away from Los Angeles, which meant the band members could focus a lot more on the music. The distractions of sex and drugs were problematic from the very beginning. The record company from the time they were signed began to fear that the band would not be around long enough to record any album because one of them was probably going to die very soon. Recording was slow at first because Slash needed to work on perfecting the guitar sound for the album. Once he got that down, the album still took quite a bit of time because Axl Rose demanded that his vocals only be recorded one line at a time. Steven Adler would later say that his drum tracks only took six days. As Axl gradually recorded his vocals, the rest of the band stayed completely away from the studio to let him work. A good number of the tracks for the album had actually been written when band members were in other groups. “Rocket Queen” had been a song written by Duff McKagan, Slash, and Stephen Adler when they had the group, The Road Crew. The song “Anything Goes” had been a Hollywood Rose tune. The lyrics reflected personal experiences of the band members. The song, “Welcome to the Jungle” came from Axl hitchhiking to New York. A homeless stranger came up to him upon arrival and said, “Welcome to the jungle you’re gonna die, man.” The song, “Out To Get Me” had been based on Rose’s troubles with the police that essentially forced him to leave Lafayette, Indiana to avoid prosecution. The song, “Mr. Brownstone was a direct reference to their seemingly full-time pastime of doing heroin. The song” “Paradise City” was written just after a disastrous trip to Seattle for one of their first tours. They had been left stranded on the way there needing to ditch much of their equipment just to make the tour. Paradise City emerged as a reference to Los Angeles upon their return.

GNR needed to battle the record company over the original cover art for the album. They had wanted an image of a robotic rapist being punished by a metal avenger, but record stores said they would not sell the album. Band members would later say that the robotic rapist was a symbol for the industrial system polluting our environment. Sometimes when it comes to Guns N’ Roses, you simply could not make this stuff up. A compromise was finally reached to allow the image to be included on the insert. The cover of the album, which is now iconic actually originated from a tattoo Rose had gotten the year before. Along with his tattoo artist, the singer would receive most of the credit for that logo. A little known fact emerges in that the knot symbol in the cross on the logo was actually a reference to Thin Lizzy. Another creative difference that most people may not realize was that the record did not have an A and B side, but a G and R side. The G side represented songs that took on darker themes like drugs and violence, while the R side were the ones about love, sex, and relationships. Originally, Axl had wanted to have a picture of the Challenger space shuttle exploding as the cover of the album, but the record company refused because it would have been in extremely poor taste.

At first, nobody noticed that the album had even been released. For example, in August 1987 Appetite For Destruction was number 182 on the charts, but exactly one year later the album was number one. Author Stephen Davis said that competition from other groups like Aerosmith and Def Leppard at the time hindered the group's ability to effectively promote the album. Slash would recall, "We thought we'd made a record that might do as well as, say, Motörhead, it was totally uncommercial. It took a year for it to even get on the charts. No one wanted to know about it." Another thing that must be noted that absolutely helped the success of Appetite For Destruction was the music video for “Welcome To The Jungle.” MTV had refused to play the video until David Geffen from the record company requested that the channel play it. The video aired for the first time at 4 AM on a Sunday, but some people saw it that lead to a tremendous number of requests for the video. Surprisingly looking back now, but critics absolutely hated the album at first. Dave Ling of Metal Hammer said the band simply copied other groups like Aerosmith, Hanoi Rocks, and AC/DC, and not very well at that. Other critics believed that the band’s popularity could be wholly attributed to their embrace of sex and drugs in their lyrics. They felt the group was glorifying it at a time when America was suffering from the AIDS epidemic and the war on drugs. Now in retrospect, critics undoubtedly keep lavishing praise upon the album being a turning point as rock and roll turned away from hair metal and glam metal to hard rock. Many agree that it represented the best metal record of the late 1980’s, if not the entire decade. Ann Powers of Rolling Stone would write, it “produced a unique mix of different rock values, speed and musicianship, flash and dirt,” that "changed hard rock's sensibilities at the time." Christa Titus of Billboard also noted that overall Appetite For Destruction embraced multiple other sub genres besides what would become hard rock. The album had, “metal's forceful playing, punk rock's rebellious themes, glam metal's aesthetic, and bluesy guitar riffs that appealed to purists." As other critics brought up that the record was more in line with The Rolling Stones and Aerosmith in the 1970’s, rather than any current band. In 1999, Axl Rose with all new members of Guns N’ Roses re-recorded the entire album. His reasoning had been to utilize new recording technology to improve upon the master. This new version was never released to the public, except for the second half of the song, Sweet Child O’ Mine which can be heard in the credits for the film, Big Daddy. In 2018, the band released a deluxe version of the album including early demos recorded at Sound City, Live ?!*@ Like a Suicide remastered, and early versions of the tracks that would eventually land in some form on Use Your Illusion I and II.