#Latin Film Festival

[selenagomez92]

Selena Gomez in Cannes , France 🔥

[andthenlightningstrikes]

[haute-lifestyle-com]

Sundance Film Festival CDMX Announces Program #janetwalker #hautelifestylecom #theentertainmentzonecom #sundance #mexico #latinamerica #movies #filmfestivals

[longlistshort]

Trailer for Translators

This past Saturday was the 3rd Annual Tampa Bay International Film Festival in collaboration with Dunedin International Film Festival, Mi Gente Mi Pueblo, and Creative Pinellas. The short films selected for the festival varied in length, subject matter, and style- but they all presented unique perspectives on the Latin American experience.

The film above Translators, directed by Rudy Valdez, was a standout. The moving documentary short tells the story of three children in the U.S. who, as the only English speakers in the family, help their parents by translating for them. You can watch it in full for free on the film’s website, linked above.

Below is the flyer from the festival with a list of all the films. On Tampa Bay International Film Festival’s Instagram, you can find more details on each of them.

[ritahayworrth]

there's currently a free japanese indie film festival being held online! all the films have subtitles in english, spanish (latin america), thai, indonesian, simplified chinese, and traditional chinese and the films are available to watch worldwide (except japan and some others depending on the movie):

bachiranun (2021)

tenzo (2019), not available in france, belgium, switzerland, korea

an artisan's legacy, tsunekazu-nishioka (2012)

lonely glory (2022)

hanagatami (2017), not available in china, us, canada, uk, and ireland

bon-uta, a song from home (2019)

and your bird can sing (2018), not available in korea, china, taiwan, us, and canada

hey! our dear don-chan (2022)

techno brothers (2023)

a muse never drowns (2022), not available in the netherlands, and canada

a girl in my room (2022), not available in korea, china, and taiwan

follow the light (2021)

the festival will be held until october 31, 2023 :))

[avastrasposts]

Bona Dea - part 5 The End

Plot: Stumbling through a dark town, general Marcus Acacius encounters the festival of Bona Dea. But what at first seems like just a pleasurable way to spend the night leaves a greater impression on him than he counted on.

Series master list

General Marcus Acacius x female reader

Warnings: Explicit smut. No use of y/n, the reader is pretty much a blank slate if you're a Roman noble lady in 2nd century Tuscany?

Word count: 8.4k

A/N: Fifth and final part of Bona Dea (at least until I watch the film next Sunday and start making up new stories....). All happy endings here! Please come tell me your thoughts, yell in my inbox, ask me about all the strange Roman customs I squeezed in here, I'd love to hear from you all!

A few notes on the Latin. I think most of it is pretty self-explanatory but just in case: Caligae - typical Roman sandals Carrisme - dearest or sweetest Sepmer - always Amica mea/Amica meus - "my love" in female and male form Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia - Ubi tu Gaia, ego Gaius - Wherever you are, I will be

The next morning, just after you’d finished breakfast with the family and Alba, one of the servants came in to announce a guest. Your heart caught in your throat when you heard the name. Alba gasped loudly and it made Titus look up at first her and then you, when he saw your shocked faces, he quickly understood something was not right. 

“Who is he?” he asked, rising to his feet as you did the same. 

“My father,” you replied, your hands shaking as you smoothed down your stola, “I didn’t think he’d risk the journey, but it seems I was wrong.” 

“Siro,” Titus called to the servant who had brought the news, “Send word to general Acacius at once, tell him Domina Lunaris’ father is here and he should come at once to meet the father of his bride,” his words were light but the grim tone spoke volumes 

Titus gave you a reassuring look as Siro left the room, “Don’t worry, Marcus will come as quickly as he can and make sure your father does not interfere.” 

“We’ll come with you to meet your father,” Antonia told you, coming to your side with Alba and taking your hand, “You won’t have to face him alone, and Marcus will be here soon.” 

“Thank you both,” you replied, still nervously smoothing down your stola. Alba squeezed your hand and gave you a scared look. 

“He can’t say anything, can he? You’re a widow now, and under the protection of general Acacius.” 

“She’s not just under his protection,” Titus said, “She’s his betrothed, he’s given her a ring and shown Rome that she belongs to him now,” he beckoned you all to follow him, “Come, let’s see what your father has to say and show him that you are not some lost young girl.” 

Your father was seated in the reception room and stood up as Titius walked in through the door, and then you, arm in arm with Antonia. 

“Nerius Vernio,” Titus greeted him, “Welcome to my home.” 

The two men bowed and Titus introduced himself and his wife as your father eyed you. You dropped your eyes to the floor and curtsied low. 

“Father, I didn’t know you were coming to Rome, I hope your journey was uneventful,” you greeted him and he gave you a cursory nod. 

“Daughter, I’ve written and requested for you to return home several times, but my letters have gone unanswered,” he said and then turned to Titus, “Aurelius, I’m grateful you’ve taken in my daughter and her cousin after the bandits attack that took her husband’s life. I’ve arranged for accommodation for us and I’ll take her into my care now.” 

You immediately shook your head but your father ignored you, “Alba, pack up both of your belongings, I have a letica waiting for  us outside.” 

“No, father, I’m not-” you began to protest, but Titus interrupted. 

“Vernio, there is no need for them to leave, we are happy to have them stay and they’ve both become very good friends of my wife. And your daughter has made a very happy connection while in Rome. And-” 

“I’ve heard of this connection, and the upcoming wedding,” your father snapped, his eyes on you and not Titus, “But you are still my daughter and you belong to my family and I will not allow you to marry anyone without my consent.” 

“Father, I’m a widow and can choose my own husband now,” you replied, but he shook his head, interrupting you again. 

“No. You will come back home, we will set Lunaris affairs on order and then I will choose a new husband for you,” Vernio was grabbing at your arm now, ushering Alba at the same time, trying to make you leave, “I will not have you dishonour our family name by running off and remarrying mere days after your husband dies.”

You tried to dig your heels in, and Antonia was reluctant to let go of your arm, “Please, father, I am not going back. I don’t care what tradition says, I’ve found a good man to marry, many times better than Lunaris and I love him.” 

He scoffed in reply, looking at you with contempt, “Love? When did love ever play a part in marriage? You’ll marry who I choose and if the gods will it, you’ll grow to love your new husband as much as you did Lunaris.” 

“I never loved Lunaris,” you cried, pulling to get your arm back now as your father looked close to slapping you in his anger, Titus looked appalled and stepped in to calm the situation. 

“Please, Verio, your daughter is allowed to have a mind of her own, she is no young maid going to her first marriage,” he said, placing a hand on your arm, “Both law and tradition says a widow can choose to marry whom she wants.” 

Suddenly there was a flurry of activity by the door of the reception room and the next thing you knew, Marcus was striding over to you, his face dark with rage. He was dressed in his full armour, the dark leather decorated with the intimidating Medusa, his gladius hanging on his hip. The sight made your father abruptly drop your arm and take several steps back as Marcus reached your side and immediately cupped your cheeks. 

“Amica mea, I came as fast as I could,” he said, looking only at you and not acknowledging your father with as much as a glance. 

“Thank you, amor,” you replied, smiling up at Marcus and taking immense satisfaction in the way your father seemed to be almost cowering from Marcus’ imposing form. It felt like having a fearsome lion as protection, storming in with a roar and making sure everyone knew that you were his to protect. 

“My father has arrived,” you said finally, after Marcus had dropped his hand to your waist and turned to the room with you securely in his arms, “Father, I’m pleased to introduce you to my betrothed, general Marcus Acacius. General, this is my father Fabius Nerius Vernio.” 

“Vernio,” Marcus said, giving your father a short nod. Vernio on his hand seemed to have lost his ability to speak, he only stared at Marcus. 

Marcus continued to look at Vernio with thinly veiled rage, and your father seemed no closer to finding his tongue and the room lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. You were delighted seeing your father squirm under Marcus’ sharp eyes and had no intention of easing his uncomfort. Eventually it was Titus, ever the diplomat, who broke the silence. 

“General Acacius is one of Rome’s most celebrated military commanders, and enjoys great favour from the emperors. I’m sure you can understand that your daughter is making a very wise choice in accepting his proposal,” he said, almost imperceptibly and gently ushering your father towards the door of the room. 

“I’m still her father and I can’t allow her to marry some stranger,” he protested weakly, “Lunaris estate must be taken care of.” 

“Oh, so that’s where your concern is!” you exclaimed, only Marcus’ arm around your waist stopped you from stepping closer to your father, Marcus tightened his grip and held you back. “You only want Lunaris’ assets so that you can marry me off to someone with lands next to the olive groves!” 

Next to you, you felt more than heard Marcus’ growl. Your father tried to bring himself under control and took hold of the edge of his toga, nervously adjusting it on his shoulder. Under Marcus’ glare he seemed pitiful. 

“Your daughter will want for nothing when she is my wife,” Marcus said, his tone betraying that he had no patience for this conversation, “If it’s money you want to let her go, then you can have whatever you want. Unlike you, my only aim is to make her happy and I don’t need money for that.” 

He turned to Titus as he took your hand in his, “I’m taking my future wife to the temple to prepare for the ceremony, I trust you to have evacuated your guest when we return, Titus.” 

Titus gave him a smirk, a look exchanged between the two old friends that spoke volumes, “Of course, general Acacius.” 

And with that Marcus led you from the room, stepping between you and your father as you passed by him, you kept your eyes from him, not wishing to see his reaction.

Later, when you reclined next to Marcus in his private reception room, you went over the events in your mind. After Marcus and you had left Titus’ villa he’d taken you to visit the temple of Juno to honour the goddess of love and marriage. On the day of your wedding you’d have a ceremony at the temple of Jupiter, but it felt right to honour Juno and ask her to protect your love for each other after your father’s anger today. 

Afterwards Marcus had asked if you wanted to see his villa, the place you would effectively be taking control of once you were married. So now you sat next to him in his private rooms, picking at the food the servants had brought from the kitchen.

“I think, in reality, he loves the idea of a great Roman general as husband to his daughter,” you told Marcus, thinking of your father, “both he and Lunaris were obsessed with power and you’re certainly more powerful than Lunaris ever was.” 

“He didn’t seem too keen today though,” Marcus replied as he pulled you closer on the seat you were on, “You’d think his daughter was marrying a homeless sewage collector.” 

“I think he was mostly angry that he had no say in it, he hates not being in control,” you said, “but I won’t let him ruin this. I’m marrying you and I’d marry you even if you were a sewage collector.” 

Marcus chuckled at that and playfully pinched your nose between his thumb and forefinger, “But you’d make me bathe every day before I came home? Or would you let me into your bed smelling like the excrements of Rome?” 

He laughed as you giggled and squirmed under his grip, finally letting go and capturing your smiling mouth in a tender kiss. 

“Would you love me even if I smelled like shit, carissime?” he asked with a mischievous grin. 

“Maybe a smidgen less,” you laughed, accepting his insistent kisses along your neck. 

He kept you occupied in that way for some time until it was time for you to return to Titus’ villa. Your lips were swollen and your hair less than smooth as he escorted you through the gates. 

“How are the preparations for the wedding going?” he asked, walking next to you with his hands clasped behind his back, keeping his roaming paws to himself to stop too many rumours to spread amongst the slaves at the villa. 

“We are almost done, the clothes are prepared, Antonia has made the wreaths for our heads, and the jewellery will be delivered tomorrow,” you replied. The big door was opened by an unseen slave and light spilled out onto the courtyard, “Will you come in?” you asked. 

“Yes, I need to discuss something with Titus,” Marcus said, “But I’ll say good night to you now, my love, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”  

“I wish it was our wedding day tomorrow,” you smiled, “I don’t want to wait any longer to be your wife.” 

Marcus smiled and pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, “Sleep well, amica mea.” 

Alba woke you up the next morning, insisting on an early visit to the villa’s thermae, dragging your sleepy form along. 

“Antonia and I want to make sure your wedding day is perfect so we’re rehearsing it all today,” she said, “do all the steps so that we have time to make changes.” 

“Sounds sensible,” you yawned, “but why so early and why do we start in the baths?” 

“Because there will be a lot of standing around getting adjusted today so we’re starting with a relaxing bath and massage.” 

You were too tired to question her and both the massage and bath were enough to put you back to sleep, snoring lightly on the marble slab until Alba woke you up again. Antonia then greeted you in the largest reception room, where the servants had just finished setting up a light meal. So while you tried to nibble on sweet dates, you were shrouded in all your wedding finery. A brand new, pure white tunic was pulled over your head and your hair then fiddled with while you yawned again. Alba and Antonia were debating how to best braid your hair while making the customary flammeum, the bridal veil, stay attached. It would be seen as a very bad omen if it fell off. You had to squint to see through the fabric as they finally agreed on how to fasten it. 

You admired the white tunic and the bright yellow veil in the polished brass mirror that was being held up in front of you. You remembered how much you’d hated it on your first wedding day, now you smiled at your reflection as Antonia tied the belt securely around your waist until you realised what she was doing. 

“No, wait, don’t tie that yet. Only Marcus is supposed to untie it and the wedding isn’t for another three days,” you protested, but it was too late, the Hercules knot was securely in place.  

“You’ll just have to stay in your wedding clothes until your wedding night then,” Antonia laughed and you frowned at her, untying the knot was a major part of the ceremony once the newlyweds were alone in their new home. Only when the husband untied the knot and slept with his wife for the first time were they truly married in the eyes of Rome and the gods. 

You were about to protest again as the doors to the room slammed open and Titus rushed in. 

“Protect the bride!” he called in a dramatic voice, throwing his arms up in the air as Marcus stepped in behind him and pushed him aside with a grin. 

“No man will stop me from robbing this woman away from her family and making her mine,” he called, striding over to you with long steps, mischief glinting in his eyes as Alba and Antonia tried to hide the bright smiles. 

“What are you doing?” you laughed, “The wedding isn’t for another three days.” Tradition held that the groom would pretend to steal his bride away from her family, and the bride should act as if she was both sad to be taken from her home, but also excited to begin her new life. But now he was three days early and you were confused when he grabbed your arm and pulled you with him towards the door as Titus pretended to try to stop him from leaving. 

“I’m claiming you as mine, we will go to the temple of Jupiter this very day and let the gods know that you will be my wife from this day on,” Marcus said, keeping the tradition with a stern voice, but you could see the glint in his eyes. He pushed Titus to the side, who made a big show of falling to the floor and Antonia ran over to him, pleading with the gods to stop Marcus. The smile she gave you made you realise she’d been in on it all along and you had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from laughing out loud. Marcus had taken your hand in his and now he was ushering you along the hall, across the courtyard and into his carriage. He helped you step inside and you managed to wave to Titus and  his family who had followed. Now they were throwing walnuts over your heads as the family’s slaves joined in, shouting well wishings. You suddenly realised, you were getting married today, somehow Marcus and Titus had moved things forward, and now you were on your way to the ceremony. 

Marcus climbed into the carriage and you couldn’t help beaming up at him. He was dressed in white armour adorned with gold details and he was grinning widely at you as he pulled you into his side, laughing as more walnuts rained down over the carriage. 

The procession to the temple of Jupiter was filled with blessings called to you both from the people on the streets, many joining in behind you together with Titus and his family. By the time you arrived in the square before the temple of Jupiter, the crowd was pretty large. The flamen Dialis, the head priest of Jupiter, stood at the top of the stairs, awaiting your arrival together with his wife. 

“You changed all the plans,” you said to Marcus as the carriage made a lap around the square. 

“I talked to Titus and he sent out messengers last night,” he replied, his smile disappearing as he looked at you with serious eyes, “We didn’t want to risk your father trying to disrupt the events. Neither Titus nor I trust him to not try to influence someone to get control over both you and Lunaris’ assets,” he cupped your cheek and let his thumb caress your skin, “And honestly, I was tired of waiting for you to be my wife, we have spent enough days apart, now I want you to be mine.” 

“Then let's pay our respects to Jupiter so that you can take me to our home,” you smiled at him and he smiled back. 

The carriage came to a stop at the foot of the stairs and Marcus tenderly kissed your forehead before he took your hand and helped you step down. The large crowd cheered as you began to climb the stairs, Titus’ family and Alba behind you. At the top of the stairs you stopped in front of the Dialis and he called up Jupiter to make your marriage a long and happy one. Two slaves brought forward a sow and the auspex performed the sacrifice to the god Ceres, reading the entrails of the dead animal as its blood dripped down the stairs. After much humming and mumbling, he finally stood up straight and loudly declared the omens to be good, loud enough for the crowd to hear. A big cheer erupted and you saw Marcus smile from the corner of your eye. He took your hand and turned you so that you were facing him, and the Dialis told you it was time for the groom to look upon his bride. 

Up until now you’d enjoyed the spectacle, it felt like your first real wedding day, not the unhappy day you’d married Lunaris. But now suddenly you felt the weight of the moment, emotions racing to the surface as you looked up at Marcus. He could only see the shadows of your features through the veil, but his smile was warm and tender, his eyes soft, as if he could see through the veil and into your nervously beating heart as you lifted your shaking hands and removed the flammeum.  

“Semper amare,” he whispered, so low that only you could hear it, and his words filled you with calm as you slowly lifted the bright yellow veil from your face. Stillness filled your mind as you met his eyes and you smiled back at him and took a deep breath. 

“Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia,” you said, your voice loud and clear, carrying across the square. 

Marcus reached out and took your hands in his and replied as was the tradition; 

“Ubi tu Gaia, ego Gaius.”

His voice also carried across the square and the crowd cheered as the Dialis cleared his throat and looked pointedly at where Marcus was holding your hands. 

“General, you need to let go of her so that I can initiate the dextratum iunctio,” he said and Marcus chuckled, dropping your hands. 

“I got carried away, apologies.” 

The Dialis took your hand and then Marcus’ and joined them together again. 

“Your hands are joined in the concordia, the mutual bond of affection and marriage. Now offer this bread to Jupiter.” 

He held out a small piece of round bread to Marcus, who let go of your hand. With a grin, he broke the bread over your head, showering you with crumbs before offering you a piece to eat. The bread was dry but you smiled back at him as you chewed and swallowed it down as Marcus did the same. 

The Dialis brought forward a tablet and you both signed the papyrus, marking your names to the contract that would now bind you together in Roman law. The last time it had felt like a death sentence, reluctantly scraping your pen over the surface. Now it felt like you were signing your release papers, setting you free from your father’s influence and becoming a part of Marcus’ family, his name now attached to yours. Marcus moved closer as you placed the pen on the table, his arm over your shoulder, as a sign to the crowd behind you that you were now under his protection.

Together you walked back down the stairs towards the carriage, the crowd had swelled and they cheered as they saw the patrician newlyweds. Again Marcus helped you up into the carriage and then waved at the crowd as his driver turned back up to the Palatine, this time returning to his villa. 

The crowd followed you all the way back, continuing to shout blessings. When you performed the rituals of entering the house the first time as mistress of it, blessings of good omens showered over you. Marcus picked you up, lifting you into his arms with a big smile and carried you not just into the courtyard and house, but all the way into the reception hall, followed by Titus’ and his family and a few of Marcus’ closest officers who had been told at the last minute that the wedding was changing days. 

The feast was a small affair, just as Marcus had promised you. Alba sat across from you at the best table together with Titus and Antonia while their children chatted away at another table. And although the food was excellent, and the wild stories about Marcus from his closest friends made you laugh until your sides ached, you wanted nothing more than for it to end so that you could have Marcus to yourself and perform the final part of the wedding ceremony. 

But there was one detail that made you want to stay a little bit longer. A young man, only a few years older than Alba, caught your eye. He was looking at Alba with admiration as she told him about a weaving technique she’d been taught. For a young man to be so immersed in weaving could only mean one thing, and you carefully nudged Marcus to look in the man’s direction. He gave a low chuckle when he saw the way the boy seemed to hang on to Alba’s every word. 

“Octavian Livius Catius,” he whispered close to your ear, “A junior in my army and Titus’ mentee. He comes from a fairly low birth but he has a good career in front of him, Alba could do much worse if she wishes to marry.” 

“Is he a good man?” you asked, keeping your voice low as you tried to glance at the two of them without being seen. 

“He is, Titus says he has good morals and a stable head, he’s fostering him to become a strategist too. And of course, since we’ve been away for two years, he’s well past the age most boys marry, I’m sure he’s looking for a future wife.” 

“Only if Alba wants him,” you replied immediately, “She’s in my care and I won’t let her be married off without her consent.”

“I would expect nothing less, domina,” Marcus mumbled, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Now, I think we have been polite enough to our guests, let’s leave.” 

Taking your hand, he stood and pulled you to your feet as the small group of guests grew quiet. 

“I’m now fortunate enough to call this incredible woman ‘my wife’, he said, addressing the room, “And it is time for our final ceremony and to honour the gods, to thank them for bringing us together and letting us have this happy day.” 

He smiled down at you as he continued to speak, “Never could I have imagined that a chance meeting on a dark street would lead me to such a happy end. I’m still not convinced you’re not Venus stepped down among us mortals.” 

You squeezed his hand and brought it to your lips for a kiss as you felt heat rise in your cheeks at his praise. 

“Please, enjoy each other’s company, the wine, the food, have a glorious evening,” Marcus told the guests and then turned to you again, “Come, wife,” he smiled at the word, “let me untie the knot.” 

Titus raised his glass and cheered, and the others joined in as Alba got to her feet and gave you a big hug, wrapping her arms tight around you. 

“I’m so happy for you both,” she said and kissed your cheek. 

“Thank you, my darling Alba,” you replied, “and his name is Octavian and Marcus says he’s a good man,” you added with a whisper in her ear, smiling as you pulled away and looked at her. Her cheeks went red as she giggled. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she grinned and gave you a little push, “Now go with your husband and tell me everything tomorrow.” 

Behind you, you heard Marcus chuckle at Alba’s comment, and his hand took a firmer hold of yours. “I agree with your cousin, come now, carissime, I have waited long enough.”  

He wrapped his arms around you as he guided you through the villa, towards one of the few rooms you had yet to see in what was now your new home; his private bedroom. It sat on the second floor and as the short December day was nearing the end, the sun glowed golden outside the windows. One of the servants had lit the oil lamps in the room and they filled it with a warm light, illuminating the warm colours of mosaics that decorated the walls. Thick rugs covered the floor and the bed was draped in soft looking blankets and pillows to warm against the cold night outside. 

Marcus closed the door behind the two of you and let out a deep breath that made you turn towards him. 

“Why such a deep sigh?” you asked and he gave you a small smile as he took your hand again and led you to the bed and sat down. 

“It’s a relief to close the door, to finally have you to myself, as my wife,” he said, “I didn’t realise until yesterday how much I’d feared that something would hinder our wedding. But when your father turned up…” Marcus sighed again and rubbed a hand over his face, “I knew I had to act fast, I hope you didn’t mind the surprise this morning.” 

You smiled at him and cupped his cheeks with both your hands, smoothing out his worried frown, “Not at all, if anything I’m delighted I didn’t have to wait another three days. Now, untie this knot and prove your virility,” you teased, “Antonia made it very tight so I hope you’re up for the task.” 

Marcus laughed and took your hand, making you lie down in the middle of the bed as he sat next to you. 

“I’d say you already know my virility is just fine enough,” he said, his smile turning more mischievous as he let his eyes roam over your body. The look in his eyes made your skin tingle and you sighed when he finally put his hands on you properly and caressed your curves. He toyed with the belt, tugging at it to pull you closer as he leaned forward. 

“Marcus….” you said, your voice a low whine when he pressed his lips to your cheek instead of your lips, his hands still not touching the knot.

“Patience, domina,” he hummed, pulling away and getting to his feet, his eyes darker now. 

With slow, practised movements he unwound the long toga from around his body, laying it on the seat next to the bed, loosening his belt and caligae next. When he pulled the tunic over his head, you held your breath, it had been so long since you last saw him fully naked and standing tall in front of you. He was just as glorious as the first time, his strong body littered with scars, his posture proud and powerful like the statues of Mars in the temple. 

He smirked at the way your hungry eyes drifted across his body, from his wide shoulders, over his chest and down to where his heavy cock was rapidly growing. When he put his knee on the bed and crawled over your body, your insides squirmed and his grin widened. He knew the effect he was having on you and he planned on taking it slow on this first time as a married couple. 

“Domina…” he all but purred, lowering himself onto his forearms and caging you underneath him. You were still fully clothed and writhing with impatience as he dipped his mouth to your neck, his tongue slipping out to taste the sensitive skin under your ear, a wet kiss following. 

“Marcus…” you pleaded again as he moved further down your body, his hands caressing and kneading as his teeth nipped through the thin fabric of your stola. 

“Patience is a virtue, mi amor,” he replied, and you could hear the smile in his voice against your breasts. 

Your breath was coming in short huffs, and you struggled to stay still, as he reached the knot in your belt. He was kissing your body around the knot, through the fabric, his hands stroking your thighs, reaching up under the stola and grabbing at your hips. His body was nestled between your legs but still he wasn’t touching you where you needed him the most, and with an impatient whine, you arched yourself up against him, seeking any friction. 

Marcus growled, and grabbed both your hips, pinning you down with his weight, “Patience…” he smirked.

He began to mouth at the ornate knot in your belt, keeping you where he wanted you with a strong grip. The edge of the stola was pressed into your core by his firm chest and you could feel how you’d soaked through your undergarments already. With a moan you reached down and grabbed at Marcus’ bare shoulders, urging him to move faster even though you knew he was intent on taking it at his own slow pace tonight. 

When you glanced down to see him stretched out between your legs, you were met by the sight of the strong planes of his back working as he held you down, his teeth grabbing the knot and pulling it loose. With a wicked grin he flashed you a look, before he began to work the stola up over your hips, the belt falling loose to the sides.

He pushed up to his knees and pulled the stola with him, finally freeing you of it as it slipped over your head. With an impatient wave you tossed it over the side of the bed and reached up for Marcus again, willing him to kiss you and sink his hard cock into you, you could feel the heated drag of it over your thigh. But he ignored your hands, instead he grabbed your thighs and spread them, sinking down with his eyes fixed on your centre.

“Carissime, I’ve missed this sight,” he hummed, slowly dragging a finger through your slick folds, reaching the aching pearl at the top and circling it as he looked up at you. Your eyebrows were drawn together, your mouth open and panting. It made his cock twitch to see you so laid out for him, and with all the time in the world to pull you apart and make you cry his name in pleasure. 

Your warm thigh rested on his shoulder as he leaned in closer, brushing his nose over your soft curls and tasting the salty liquid. A shuddering breath left your lungs as you seemed to melt into the bed at the sensation, and Marcus licked a wide stripe up your centre, making you gasp again. 

His fingers spread you open, making more room for his tongue, and methodically he began to explore your cunt in earnest, taking the time he hadn’t had on the night of Bona Dea. Every sound you made, your whimpered pleas and moaned cries of his name, it made him try even harder, his own arousal aching and pressed against the bed. Your hands found his hair and he groaned when you pulled him closer, burying his face in your cunt, driving his tongue in as deep as he could while you made his nose rub against the swollen nub at the apex of your sex. 

“Marcus…please….” you panted, your skin flushed and hot as you felt yourself begin to crest the wave he was building up. 

“Carissime, you taste so good,” he mumbled into your flesh, moving his tongue up to lap at your most sensitive part, “so sweet and delicate, my wife’s perfect cunt.” 

With a deep breath he began to suck at the puffy button, his fingers digging into your thighs and pushing them wide, burying his face between your legs with a growl. 

His mouth seemed to be making red hot flames shoot out through your body, your hands tightening their grip on his curls as shockwaves rocked through your limbs. Crying out, you threw your head back, his name the only word you could muster and each lick and suck from Marcus brought fresh moans of pleasure from you until your throat felt raw and dry. He was working you into hysteria where all that existed was his mouth and the way he made your body sing. 

You pulled tight like a bow string and with a strangled cry of his name, you snapped, sobbing as Marcus continued to lick and suck at your cunt, clenching around nothing. Your body was begging for him to fill you up as the orgasm coursed through you, but your mind couldn’t find the words, there were only stars streaming across your field of vision as your body shook and trembled under his tongue. 

Panting hard you finally fell back against the bed, your taught body relaxing in Marcus grip and he gave your folds a few soft kisses before he pulled back. With a low chuckle, he nuzzled your thigh, trailing sticky kisses across the hot skin as he made his way up to lie next to you. 

“My sweet wife…are you still with me? Do you think you’re wet enough to take my cock now?” he smiled as he pressed kisses to your cheek and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Your body felt like liquid and Marcus chuckled again as you smiled back up at him with half closed eyes, unable to form a coherent response yet.  

“It seems I did a proper job as husband,” he said, letting you pull him closer, “Are you satisfied, wife?” 

“No, husband,” you replied, seeking his mouth out for a slow kiss, “You did good, but I know how good it feels to have you fill me up, and now nothing else will do.” 

Marcus smiled and caressed your cheek as he moved to cage you under his wide shoulders again, your arms around his neck. 

“I want to take you slowly, feel every part of it,” he said in a low voice as you spread your legs to make room for him, the weight of his cock pressed against your core, “feel your kisses when I fuck you deep into our bed, feel every tremble in your body as I fill you up again and again, keep you here underneath me until we forget everything except this.” 

He rolled his hips, the fat tip of his cock catching against your opening, making you both hiss. 

“Nothing exists except you, Marcus,” you whispered, cupping his face between your palms as he moved again. The head of his cock breached your tight hole and you could feel his jaws clench under your hands, a tight breath escaping him. 

“You feel so good, Marcus, amica meus,” you mumbled, caressing his soft beard, tracing your thumb over his plush lips. The feel of him slowly pushing inside made your core clench, your hips trying to rise up to meet him, but his heavy weight kept you pinned underneath him, your legs locked around his waist. With a groan he squeezed his eyes shut and drove himself in to the hilt, the liquid heat of your tight cunt closing around him. 

“Gods, domina…” he panted, “keep me in your bed and let me fuck you, let me always feel this tight cunt around my cock, it’s all I ask, and I’ll be the happiest man in the world…” he rambled. “So tight and wet and hot, my sweet wife’s cunt has me on my knees until it milks me dry…” 

He slid out and drove himself in again with a loud groan, his arms wrapping around your shoulders as he buried his face against your neck, “Goddess…” he moaned and you felt his mouth suck at your skin as he rocked himself into you, his cock filling you up and making you gasp every time he sheathed himself fully.  

Your hands grabbed at his back, his golden skin warm and damp to the touch as you dug your fingers into his tightly wound muscles. Over you he was unravelling, mumbling into your neck between kisses and bites, his control slipping as he continued to fuck you, lost in his own haze of lust. He came up for a deep breath of air and leaned his forehead against yours, his dark brown eyes locked on yours as his hips continued to thrust his hard cock into you, your breaths mingling as you both gasped at each impact. 

“Amica mea, I love you, my wife, I can’t believe you're finally my wife,” he mumbled, his hands gripping your shoulders and pulling you down on to him again and again. 

“I love you too. My husband,” you whispered between gasps, “amica meus, semper.” 

Marcus pressed his mouth to yours, his tongue slipping between your lips as he picked up his pace, and you squeezed your legs tight around his waist. The coarse hairs around his cock were rubbing against your swollen pearl, each slide making sparks ignite and shoot out all the way to your fingertips, even your toes were curling at the impact of his cock deep inside your weeping cunt. 

The pace grew frantic, Marcus groaned loudly, pressing his mouth against yours as his body began to tremble, he was gasping, slamming his cock into you, chasing his release as you cried out underneath him. He was hitting a new spot deep inside, new stars appeared in your field of vision but you tried to keep your eyes open and watch your husband as he began to come undone. His eyebrows pulled tight, his hips stuttering into yours, he dug his fingers almost painfully hard into your shoulders as he grimaced and cried out. With a loud shout he slammed into your cunt a final time, grinding deep inside as your own climax hit again. He rolled his hips over yours, milking himself and pushing you through each wave of pleasure as it washed over your bodies. 

He was heavy on top as he finally relaxed, his body hot and sticky with your arms and legs wrapped around him. He could feel your hands begin caress him, slowly bringing him back from the haze that had taken over his mind as he finally let go and fucked you as hard as he needed too. The heavy thumping of his heart echoed in his ears and he knew he should move, but you didn’t seem to mind his body pushing you into the mattress. So instead he turned his head and leaned his cheek against your chest, his softening cock slipping out, making him hiss. He felt you press a kiss to the top of his head, his hair damp, and your fingers raked carefully across his scalp. 

“You make me happy, Marcus,” you mumbled against his soft curls, “so happy.” 

He sighed against your warm skin, a long, content exhale, “Then I’m happy too, carissime.” 

With another sigh he pushed himself up on his forearms, smiling down at you underneath him. His hair was a halo of dark curls, his eyes soft and warm, and you cupped his cheeks and pulled him down for another kiss. Your lips felt swollen and tender but you still moaned with satisfaction when he licked into your mouth and deepened the kiss. It took several long moments before you both were satiated again and he carefully rolled off you and got out of the bed.  

“Let me clean us both off, I’m too tired to go to the thermae now,” he said, going over to the wash basin and picking up one of the washcloths. 

Your body felt loose and almost as if in a liquid state as he began to gently wipe the cool cloth over your skin. You hummed and smiled at him as he paid extra attention to the white liquid slowly dripping from between your legs. 

“Proud of your work, husband?” you teased him and he chuckled, running the cloth between your legs again and making sure to apply just a little bit too much pressure to your most sensitive area. You hissed and arched against his hand. 

“If I was a younger man, the sight would make me hard enough to do it again,” he replied, grabbing at your hips to make you spread your legs for him, “such a perfect cunt…”

He smiled at you and began to wipe himself down, running the cloth over his soft cock as you admired the sight. 

“Next time, I want to do that,” you said, watching as he pulled back the skin to clean himself. 

“Next time, I want your mouth around it,” he replied, and the look that he gave you, made heat shot through you again. 

Marcus grinned and tossed the washcloth to the side and crawled into bed, pulling the covers over you both this time. His body was warm and firm as he made space for you, his arms pulling you into his chest. 

“We have all the time in the world now, carissime,” he said, his lips close to yours as you looked up at him, “And I intended to make good on my promise to keep you in my bed night and day.” 

“I only have one more thing that’s going to make me leave this bed,” you said, smiling at his confused look and pressing your lips to his when he opened them to ask. 

“Later,” you mumbled, “now I want more kisses from my husband.” 

Marcus chuckled and you could feel the rumble in his chest, “Anything for you, wife.” 

The people going about their daily business outside the great structure of Circus Maximus may have stopped and looked an extra time as the patrician carriage drew to a halt outside the wall of the nearby temple. The general who stepped out was dressed in his formal armour, the white and gold shimmering under the bright sky. The woman he helped down with a gentle hold on her hand, was dressed in a similarly rich stola, the veil loosely wrapped around her head but leaving her face bare. 

“Here we are, carissime,” Marcus said, putting his arm around your waist and leading you to the entrance of the temple, “I’ll be waiting outside, let Bona Dea know I’m forever her servant too and that I apologise for delaying our visit to her temple for a full two weeks.” 

“I will, my love,” you smiled at him, “And I’m sure she understands that newlyweds have trouble leaving the house. I only wish you could be allowed inside the temple too.” 

“The rules of Bona Dea must be obeyed,” he laughed, “I learnt that in the best way possible.” 

You laughed with him and gave him a quick peck on his smiling lips, before leaving him behind and entering the temple grounds. 

Alba followed close behind as the vestal virgin returned your bows, and then led you up the stairs and into the sacred rooms. In the package you carried were cakes and breads you’d made yourself that very morning, using the best ingredients that could be found in the market. Alba carried an amphora of olive oil, and one of wine, the finest Marcus had in his storage, and as you reached the great altar, you both placed your offerings on the ground. 

The priestesses began the rituals and you gazed up at the marble statue standing tall behind the altar. The cornucopia in her left arm was overflowing, a symbol of her generosity, and in her right was a bowl, a snake feeding from it, a sign of her healing powers. The goddess had certainly been both generous and healing when dealing with you and Marcus, and it was time to repay her and honour her influence. 

“I thought I was trapped in a loveless marriage for the rest of my life,” you said, looking up at Bona Dea, “No children to distract me, just a vile man who blamed me for my barren womb, and made me question why I should even wake up each morning. But you brought Marcus into my life and steered his actions, making it possible for us to be together as husband and wife. And for this, both him and I will forever be your most humble servants.” 

The priestess tossed the bread and the cakes into the sacrificial flames, making it hiss and spit as Bona Dea accepted your gifts. 

“And I have one final prayer for you, Bona Dea,” you said, kneeling down as Alba looked on in surprise. 

The cool marble of the floor was smooth under your forehead as you prostrated yourself fully at the feet of the goddess. You closed your eyes and sent up a silent prayer, the smoke of the sacrifice in your nose, the silence of the temple heavy in your ears. The gods had never spoken to you, but as you sent up your plea to the one who seemed to have seen you at your most miserable, and sent a saviour, a calm came over you, a sense of completion. 

You took a few deep breaths, holding back the tears that were threatening to spill, and then sat up onto your heels. 

“Thank you.” 

The sunlight was still sharp as you left the temple, and you pulled up your veil to shield your eyes. Marcus was standing next to the carriage with his hands clasped behind his back, his posture straight. You had come to recognise this as his ‘public persona’, the powerful general who expected everyone to obey him. In private, he softened whenever you were near, and became the Marcus you loved more with every minute that passed.

“Carissime,” he smiled as you and Alba came out from the temple gates, “all done?” 

“Yes, husband, the goddess accepted our sacrifice and the priestesses seemed most pleased with the generous contribution.” 

You took his hand and held him back as Alba stepped into the carriage. 

“Bona Dea has given us another gift,” you whispered, and he raised his eyebrows in question as he leaned closer to you. 

“Another gift?” he asked and you brought his hand to the front of your stola, his eyes widening. 

“I always thought I was barren, but now someone grows inside me thanks to her healing powers.”

Marcus stepped closer, his arms going around your waist as he pressed his palm across your belly as if he could already feel the heartbeat of the child within. 

“Truly?” he whispered, his wide eyes filled with hope. 

“I’ve missed my courses twice since our first night, it’s still early days, but yes, truly,” you smiled up at him. 

“Carissime…” he whispered again, bringing his hands up to cup your face, pressing his lips to yours, “I thought I couldn’t be happier but now I feel like my heart will explode.” 

He pulled back a little, you could feel tears spilling over and rolling onto your cheeks, and he wiped at them with his thumbs. 

“Are you happy, amica mea?” 

“Yes, Marcus, you make me very happy,” you smiled through your tears, “And it makes me even happier to have a new family with you.”

“A new family,” he hummed, pressing kisses to your face and lips, “a new family with my beautiful wife and our beautiful child.” 

He smiled and kissed you again before taking your hand, “Now let me take you home and spoil you rotten while you care for our child, she already holds my heart in her tiny hands.” 

“‘She’?” you asked curiously, and Marcus laughed, a bright smile lighting his eyes. 

“I’m certain Bona Dea will give me a daughter as beautiful and strong as her mother, so that I can live the rest of my life worshipping two incredible women,” he replied, still smiling, “That will be my lot in life, my heart held captive by the two of you.” 

“You are the most wonderful husband and you will make the most wonderful father, Marcus,” you said, tears welling up in your eyes again as Marcus smiled and wiped your cheeks. 

“My sweet wife, carissime,” he said, placing his palm on your belly again, his touch gentle and warm as if he was already cradling his daughter, “I would give up every title the emperors have bestowed on me only to keep two.” 

He kissed your left cheek and then the right, his soft lips brushing gently over your tears. 

“Your husband, and her father.” 

Tagging some lovely people who showered the first four parts with love: @gothcsz @missladym1981 @txlady37 @timelordfreya @bluesweaters15

@indiegirlunited @jessthebaker @likeficinthewnd @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @inept-the-magnificent

@angiewatson @wintersquirrel @sheepdogchick3 @asobeeee @harriedandharassed @cozylittlepigeon

@i-own-loki @pedrit0-pascalit0 @lady-bess

[figmentjedi]

The criminally underexposed HBOMax/Cartoon Network Latin America exclusive, Frankelda’s Book of Spooks, is getting a prequel movie with Cinema Fantasma bringing it to Annecy.

We can finally make it official! It's with great excitement that we tell you that the sequel to #Frankelda is... a movie! Get ready to learn the story of "Frankelda and the Prince of Spooks," which we've been working on for a year and a half. Also, we are honored to be selected in WIP on Festival international du film d'animation d'Annecy where we will be giving a presentation to show, exclusively and for the first time, some behind-the-scenes footage. It's an honor to represent Mexico at the most important animation festival in the world. Thank you so much to all of you for supporting Frankelda, Herneval and all the scares!. HBO Max

Still no word on a proper release of the original show outside Latin American territories, but this should hopefully get more eyes on it.

[pinesource]

Chris Pine said this week the development and release of his directorial debut Poolman was “the best thing to ever happen to me” despite the movie’s nearly universal bad reviews.

“It’s forced me to double down on joy,” Pine told host Josh Horowitz on Thursday’s episode of the Happy Sad Confused podcast. “As an actor… fundamentally it’s about play, right? What we do is essentially become children for hours a day and make believe,” he said, adding: “There’s an impish quality to it that I don’t ever want to lose.”

Poolman, which debuted at Toronto film festival last fall, follows Pine as a down-on-his luck pool technician in Los Angeles who discovers a water heist in a spoof of 1974’s Chinatown. The film was panned by critics, with The Hollywood Reporter writing that the project “goes tonally off the rails from the start and proceeds to hit bottom with excruciating momentum.”

Pine said this week the bad reviews became “a real come to Jesus moment for me, in terms of seeing how resilient I am.”

He added that we wasn’t “totally surprised” by the critiques, saying he hadn’t set out to “make some sort of niche film,” but said it was hard to reconcile having made a project “with so much joy behind it, to then be met with this fuselage of not-so-joyous stuff.”

“The cognitive dissonance there was quite something,” he continued, going on to reference a favorite latin phrase that translates to, “Vigor grows from the wound.”

“I love that idea,” he said. “Yes, there’s the hurt of the cut, there’s the hurt of the moment, but as the scar tissue forms, as the healing process happens, you do benefit from the growth and resilience in sitting in your being of what you’re trying to say.”

Pine says this lesson helped remind him that his contentment with the project was ultimately up to only himself. “After the reviews in Toronto I was like, maybe I did just make a pile of shit,” he recalled. “So I went back and watched it, and I was like, I fucking love this film.”

[elennemigo]

31 (August. I thought this one was on sept 1st by I was wrong so here it is.)

★ Benedict arrived at the Venice Film Festival.

4

★ Benedict attended Miu Miu Women’s Tales event in Venice. x x

★ He also assisted to the Aston Martin Vanquish launch event in Venice. Gallery / clips (my post)

7

★ Benedict´s toast and speech during a special gala for Sophie´s Salt of the Earth film. (more here)

9

★New Benedict pic.

12

★ National Theatre Live announced their plays will come to Latin America (and Spain) with Spanish subtitles. Including Hamlet and Frankestein.

13

★ Benedict and Sophie attended a dinner event to celebrate Naomi Campbell.

24

★ Benedict and Sophie participated in the Earthshot Prize Innovation Summit. (my post)

26

★ Benedict and Sophie Hunter attended an event at the British Embassy in NYC, during the United Nations General Assembly Week. (video and pics x, x)

30

★ Benedict became ambassador for the KOKO Foundation.

★ And he will be attending a special fundraising edition of Letters Live.

✧ ── ⋅ FIN ⋅ ── ✧

[mogai-sunflowers]

I hate it when I can't use a term that fits me very well because my brain (which processes everything with images) has an image of that term that doesn't look like me.

Like when I think of "transmasc" and all that pops into my head are skinny, white, American boys with very basic styles (which isn't a bad thing, it's just "too basic" for me personally), and of course, who look like cis boys and hate their bodies or prefer other body.

Meanwhile, I'm a POC, fat, Latine person, with questionable style (/joke), who CERTAINLY doesn't look like a cis boy and who really loves their body.

How could I use a term when my brain tells me that term doesn't fit people like me? I hate that. It's just me?

hey anon. i so wish I could reach through this screen and tell you that who you are is perfect and that you have every right to terminology that feels right, but as a fat trans person myself I know it takes more than kind words to deal with a pain like this, and one that’s even more intersectional than mine with your race and culture in the picture.

but that image you have in your head of what transmasc means, that is not the reality. that is what a small part of the community, of the world, WANTS you to think because they would rather throw other members of their community under the bus to gain faux acceptance for themselves, which is NOT your fault, but it’s also not everyone, there are so many people in this community who look like you or who truly stand with you. Transmasculine history is and never has been white or thin or any of that.

I’m going to link a few things you may want to look into if you’re wanting to start accepting your identity a little more, or just to see that you really ARENT alone. trans men/transmascs of color have been part of our history since the beginning. some of these things im sharing may be somewhat nsfw and have the word 'tranny' in them, just as a warning if that stuff bothers you.

newspaper clipping showing three trans men of color at a festival for a film they were part of, the first ever sexual/porn film by and for trans men of color

some pictures showing some fat trans men and trans men of color at marches are here

Bobby Cheung, the Asian and Pacific Islander trans man who won the Mr. Transgender San Francisco Pageant in 2004

trans men of color discuss intersectionality in a film they directed called "Trappings Of Transhood"

a photo showing the attendees of an FTM conference- you can see many non-white people in attendance

a photo of a group of Latino trans men who attended Tranny Fest in 1999

basic info on victor j mukasa, a Black transmasc lesbian active in East African LGBTQ rights scene

an older fat trans gentleman's photo and experience

a post on pauli murray (please look them up. his experience is much more nuanced than this post gives them credit for, and she was a wonderful intersectional activist)

various trans men (many fat and of color) who have contributed to our history

a conference of Indian trans men

the story of a trans man named Ben

one of my personal favorite transmasc historical figures, Amelio Robles Ávila

Zander Keig, the fat Latino trans man who won social worker of the year in 2020

a wonderful read on the intersectionality of transmasculinity and race

a digital archive of trans and queer Latino history

the Instagram page of a popular Black drag king

an article with interviews with various drag kings, including several of color

Florence Hines, the Black drag king once called the most excellent male impersonator in America

more drag kings many of color!

Drag Kings: An Archaeology of Spectacular Masculinities in Latino America

anon, it is so easy to feel like you are alone when your own history has been unfairly erased from you. but when I say “you are not alone”, I am not offering empty words of comfort- YOU ARE NOT ALONE. Transmasc and similar identity has truly NEVER actually been just for white people or thin people. You are WONDERFUL, and you are ABSOLUTELY a part of trans masculinity and transmasculine history is YOUR history and community as much as it is mine and others. You belong.

[selenagomez92]

Selena Gomez attends the screening of “Emilia Perez” at the 77th annual Cannes Film Festival.

[flanaganfilm]

Hey Mike! First off, it makes me so happy to see you out there fighting with your writer friends to ensure they receive a decent living wage for the amazing work that they do.

As for my question, I would love to hear about some of the inspiration for making Before I Wake. It and Absentia were the last two of your films that I watched, and BIW just absolutely destroyed me. No other movie, including and especially a horror flick, has ever made me bawl like a baby like that. The entire tone of the film is so spot-on, and the climax of the nightmare monster “dissolving” from its evil form after being embraced…. To me that scene just perfectly encapsulates what it’s like to be a parent, and human; sometimes we just need someone to hold us and let us know things will be all right. We spend so much of our time making sure that our children feel loved and cared for, that sometimes we forget about ourselves. And you just fucking nailed it, my dude.

Like I said, I would LOVE to read any backstory or inspiration that you have for this film! It’s so beautiful and underrated.

On the WGA front, don't be too impressed with me - I mean, I'm a professional writer, I've been a member of the WGA since Absentia, so I'm out there fighting for myself as much as everyone else.

But on the Before I Wake front, you know I very rarely get asked to talk about this one, so I'm happy to... fair warning for another long post!

Before I Wake was originally titled Somnia, which is latin for "dreams." It was part of an unofficial trilogy of sorts, comprised of Absentia, Oculus and Somnia. All three of those movies were meant to work together as a thematic triptych.

Ultimately, Before I Wake was brutally sabotaged by its own studio, who drastically undermined it creatively and then destroyed any hope of a meaningful release. It remains a particularly heartbreaking chapter of my career... but a film I have and will always have tremendous affection for.

A lot of people think that Somnia was made after Hush and Ouija: Origin of Evil, just before Gerald's Game, but this is entirely incorrect. It was actually the second "real" movie I ever made, and was actually shot before Oculus was even released.

The basic premise of Somnia focused around a little boy whose dreams manifested physically in the world around him, and was an original concept I carried around for a few years before Oculus got picked up by Intrepid Pictures. In fact, I've talked about my first meeting at Intrepid, where I pitched a few ideas that were rejected... Somnia was the first one I pitched. Trevor Macy opted to pursue Oculus that day, but he ended up producing Somnia right after.

This unofficial "latin trilogy" seemed to fit together well. Absentia was a somber and bleak look at the loss of hope, Oculus was more thrilling dive into the labyrinth of past trauma, and Somnia was meant to take that loss and trauma and end the triptych on a note of hope and healing.

In fact, the script for Somnia was written before Oculus was greenlit. On the page, it was my favorite of the three. I was very taken with the story of little Cody and his personal boogeyman, and of the revelation at the end of the story... that with understanding, even the most monstrous of our fears can lose their destructive power.

Cody's birth mother had died of cancer, and he had seen her just before her death. That final image of her, as well as a misunderstanding about the pronunciation of the word "cancer" had led to the creation of a monster in his mind, who he called the "Canker Man"... a gaunt figure who took away people that he loved. When he finally learns the truth about his monster, and about his mother, he begins to understand it all... and the monster loses its awful powers as empathy and understanding take root.

While Absentia finished its festival rounds and Oculus inched its way toward production, Somnia was my first script taken out to market by my new agency. I had signed with APA just as Intrepid engaged me on Oculus, which was my first studio writing and directing job. Jeff Howard and I finished our first draft of Oculus and turned it in to Intrepid, and immediately turned around and started writing Somnia.

The script got some interesting attention. While some of the more mainstream horror companies balked at the emotional ending and preferred a story that was "more about a boy and his monster" than the emotional wrap-up we insisted on, others understood it right away.

Elijah Wood and his producing partner Daniel Noah sought me out when they read the script. We met for drinks in Venice and I was absolutely starstruck, and we've remained friends ever since.

Jada Pinkett Smith was another big fan of the script, which led to a surreal afternoon at her stunning home where we talked about the story at length and watched an early cut of Oculus in her home theater. Will Smith joined us toward the end of the meeting, and I had a difficult time speaking.

I've written before about the drama surrounding Oculus' premiere and eventual sale to Relativity Media, so I won't rehash that now, but as Oculus raced toward release, Trevor Macy at Intrepid made an offer to produce Somnia for Relativity and I eagerly accepted. My first "real" movie was going to be released wide in theaters, and the same studio was going to double-down on me - Somnia was greenlit by Relativity for a big domestic theatrical release. We'd pre-sell our foreign territories on this promise, and they eagerly snatched the movie up. This was my own Hollywood dream, coming to life.

It wouldn't work out that way. In fact, Somnia would turn out to be the first nightmare of my career.

It started well enough. We had filmed Oculus in Daphne, Alabama, taking advantage of an aggressive tax rebate. We would do the same with Somnia, bringing back a lot of my Oculus crew and shooting in and around Fairhope. We began shooting in the fall of 2013, less than a year after we'd wrapped Oculus.

We hit the ground running. Very little time had passed since we wrapped Oculus, and the movie hadn't come out yet, so at first it felt a lot like we were just picking up where we left off.

Bruce Larsen, who also carved the Oculus mirror, working on a prototype of the Canker Man.

We had casting challenges. I was still a relatively unproven director, my first studio film hadn't been released, and this was an ambitious script. After a lengthy search (driven by foreign pre-sales, a process I knew nothing about and now quite detest), Kate Bosworth signed on to play Jessie, and Thomas Jane - who I admired greatly from his recent work in The Mist - joined the production as Mark. (Funny story - Tom arrived with hair down his shoulders, and vehemently didn't want to cut it. That disagreement put us off on an awkward foot, and I ultimately conceded the point to him... though I do regret that now.)

The major discovery was 7 year-old Jacob Tremblay as Cody. Jake had only made one movie before this, he had a small role in The Smurfs 2. His self-tape audition came out of nowhere and we knew was a a phenomenal talent. Right after we wrapped, I got a call that he was being considered for a movie called Room, and we shared some footage to help him get the part (that movie would establish him as one of the biggest and most sought after child actors in the world... but we had him first.)

We were committed to practical effects wherever possible, and creating a striking suit for our monster. It all felt like it was going to work. But the shoot would prove to be much more challenging than we anticipated.

The shoot itself was challenging for the typical reasons. There was a little creative tension on set with particular actors, we didn't have enough money to pull off our more ambitious visual moments, and we were forced to remove several production days at the last minute, throwing our schedule into a bit of chaos.

But none of these issues were particularly unusual for a lower budget film, and while it was more challenging and frustrating than Oculus had been, overall the shoot was just fine. I felt that our third act was pretty drastically under budgeted, and what was scripted to be a deep dive into a child's imagination was stripped down to a few vines on the walls and some moths... but other than that, I don't really have much to complain about.

(Fun fact: it was also the first time I would work with Annabeth Gish. We were fast friends, and though she was only with us for a few days, I knew we'd end up working together again.)

We wrapped the movie, I got to editing, and all seemed fine. It was a unique story, much less horror-centric and much more of a fairy-tale. This was, of course, by design. There was a delicate vibe to the whole thing, anchored on Jacob's arresting performance, and a shadowy magic. It felt innocent, wondrous, and ultimately cathartic.

Then, Relativity got their first look at the cut, and the problems started in earnest.

We had been clear (and aligned, I'd thought) about what kind of movie this was. But almost immediately, despite these conversations, the studio began to push the film more and more toward being a traditional horror movie.

We had designed a practical monster in the Canker Man. Our creature was tactile, practical, and - we believed - appropriately simple. After all, it was meant to have come from the mind of a child.

The studio kicked hard, and the directive came down to try to make the monster "much scarier."

There wasn't a lot we could do; we'd shot what we'd shot, after all. The decision was made to take our footage of our practical monster and drastically alter it using visual effects.

The Canker Man would be digitally warped and molded into a skeletal, grinning creature. The visual effects artists would be using footage that wasn't captured with the intention of being altered that way, so a lot of the artifice would be obvious. He'd become a little rough around the edges. We told ourselves that this would be okay... it was a dream, after all.

Early camera tests of our practical Canker Man suit

The final VFX-enhanced monster This began to nudge our monster away from our core concept. While our practical suit would always need some help from VFX, this was now tilting into an area that strayed from the true identity of the creature.

Another major sticking point was the plot itself.

In the movie, Cody's adopted mother Jessie is shocked to find a physical manifestation of her deceased son, Sean, after Cody sees his picture. She then goes about trying to "rebuild" her dead son in the imagination of her new foster child, hoping to see and interact with him more... "I just want to hear his voice."

This morally questionable exploitation of Cody was, to put it mildly, the entire point of the story. Jessie goes too far, and when she finally resorts to drugging Cody to force him to sleep in the hopes of seeing her lost son, he is unable to wake up from a nightmare and her husband is killed.

Jessie spends the rest of the film clawing her way back to redemption, and having to atone for what she's done, all while finally focusing on Cody's past and healing instead of her own.

As a character, Jessie does things we do not agree with, and they have serious, permanent consequences. And the moral murkiness of this was, frankly, the point.

The studio was flinching hard. "It makes her unlikeable," they argued. There was a push to try to back off of this, and to pull the punch... sure, she could exploit him somewhat, but they wanted to pull it back. Kate Bosworth's performance began to be altered in the cutting room, flinching away from some of the more decisive choices in favor of a more watered-down, morally generic heroine.

This middle ground would prove to be ill-advised.

As we were battling over the edit, something else happened. Oculus was released in theaters in April 2014.

If the movie was a huge hit, it would mean I would likely win more of these arguments, and Somnia would be restored to something closer to my vision. If the movie bombed, the studio could (and likely would) run ramshot over Somnia, twisting it into a more generic studio horror story and jettisoning things they didn't quite understand.

Ultimately, the movie performed... moderately. It was kind of right in the middle. It wasn't a failure, but it wasn't a hit either. Both sides dug in. And suddenly, Somnia was being twisted into something between two tones.

Citing the "disappointing" performance of Oculus (which, frankly, did just fine), the studio insisted that we write and shoot some additional "scares". Among them was one of the worst studio notes I'd ever receive (well, at least until I started working for Netflix.)

The entire premise of the film was that, when Cody slept, his dreams would manifest physically. When he woke up, they would vanish. This was, to put it bluntly, our only rule.

The note came in: "We need a scare set piece to occur when he is awake."

Now, I can't understate how nonsensical this is. It defied the entire premise of the movie. Their rationale (such as it was) was that the audience wouldn't ever be frightened when Cody was awake, because they knew the monsters only came when he was asleep.

"Well yeah," I said. "That's why it's important that the movie isn't just about scares."

But they were insistent. If a monster showed up while Cody was awake, that would be "truly thrilling" and "catch the audience off-guard."

It was the equivalent of saying "the shark in Jaws only attacks people if they're in the water. We need an attack to occur on land." I mean, that would really catch the audience off-guard.

I had no idea how to address this note.

It was early in my career, I didn't have a theatrical hit under my belt, and I didn't have the ammunition to fight it. So I had to address it somehow, and it had to satisfy the studio, or else we may not get our theatrical release after all.

So I ended up writing a scene where Cody is wide awake, only to be attacked in his bed by the specter of a deceased bully (a previous victim of one of his dreams).

How the fuck were we going to make this make any sense? Well, we had to write a whole other scene - much earlier in the film - where a therapist explains the concept of "waking dreams." Jay Karnes (who was a lovely person and one hell of a good sport) had to randomly say "you know, some people can dream while they're awake" to Bosworth, desperately trying to set up this moment.

It doesn't quite work, to say the least. Cody looks under his bed, sits up, and is attacked by this eye-less specter. Then, he's dragged screaming under his bed, until the attack just... stops, for some reason.

We filmed it, and I thought it was the stupidest thing I'd ever shot (it wasn't, though - the stupidest thing I've ever shot remains the on-screen stalking and murder of a cat in the pilot of Midnight Mass, a truly braindead scene that Netflix insisted on adding.)

Along with this scene, which would become the crux of Relativity's trailer, we shot several other random scares that were peppered throughout the movie. Now, this wasn't enough to tip the film entirely into being a horror film... just enough to make it exist awkwardly in between two genres.

It got worse. The addition of all this new "horror" material made the film longer (go figure), so the directive came down to begin removing other elements to make room. Those elements were character development and context.

The cut began to get bumpy. The fairy-tale tone of most of our original footage was at odds with the overt horror tone the studio was insisting upon. Every time we tested one of these cuts, the audience was understandably confused... they really loved the concept, they really loved Jacob, and they all loved the ending revelation - but along the way, what was this movie? Was it a horror film? Was it a drama? A fantasy?

Even with this, our test screenings were actually pretty good. We were testing in the high sixties and seventies - which is, infuriatingly, right in that middle zone: not good enough to kill the studio interference, but not bad enough to let them take over.

So we kept fighting. And we kept cutting. And we kept testing. And with each screening, the studio forced it further and further into this no-man's land.

There were a few victories, though. Danny Elfman came on board to collaborate with the Newton Brothers on our score. Some of our non-horror sequences, like a scene involving Christmas-light butterflies, were being called out by our test audiences in the best ways. But the tug-of-war over the basic identity of the film was tipping decidedly toward the more horror-centric approach.

Finally, the studio came after the title. Somnia was too confusing, they said. Nobody knew what it meant. So, we added a scene where Jay Karnes - once again having to naturally sell force-fed exposition - literally defines the world "somnia" during a therapy scene (these therapy scenes were basically being used to spoon-feed material to the audience.)

That wasn't enough, though. The studio began workshopping other titles, and they landed on perhaps my most hated of all of the options: the ultra-generic Before I Wake, a title already used by a handful of low-budget thrillers over decades. We conceded after it was made clear that it wasn't really up to me in this case, and we limped into what I consider to be the worst title of my career.

With our new uneven tone, a new and "improved" monster, and a groan inducing title, they finally agreed to stop messing with the movie and honor their commitment to releasing it wide.

You tell yourself a lot of things in this business, and I told myself that the heart of the story - the revelation about where the concept of the Canker Man came from - was still intact, so all would be well. Viewers would be able to look past some of the bumps because the payoff was worth it.

But we didn't know what else was happening at Relativity.

They announced the release date for the film, posters started showing up in theaters, and we were anxiously awaiting our big wide theatrical release... when suddenly everything stopped.

We didn't know it yet, but Relativity Media was having huge financial problems. They were on the verge of bankruptcy, as a matter of fact, and though they weren't admitting it yet, internally they were in a state of absolute chaos.

Without warning or explanation, the studio moved us off our date. The movie wouldn't be released after all. We immediately knew something was very wrong, despite Ryan Kavanaugh's insistence that our date was "just a bad date," and that he'd moved the movie in order to make it "an even bigger success." No, this whole thing stunk. It stunk bad.

They set another date, and we watched and waited. But no trailers. No marketing. And then... that date was pushed as well. Again, they insisted everything was fine. But we knew. Something was deeply wrong with the company, and they were lying to us.

Some of this played out publicly. Kavanaugh and I got into a spat on Twitter when I suggested that the studio wasn't able to release the movie theatrically after all (I still don't regret saying this, and man oh man, was I proven right).

Meanwhile, our international distributors were scrambling. We'd sold a lot of international territories off the promise of our big theatrical release in North America, and they weren't going to wait forever. By the third time Relativity pushed our release date, the whole house of cards fell down, and various international territories started releasing the film haphazardly on whatever platforms they could.

There was no coordinated release strategy. Suddenly, the film was just available in Argentina, for example. Or it was On Demand in Russia. I remember being shocked when a German Blu-ray appeared on eBay without warning.

There was no rollout to critics, no coordination at all. Within a few weeks, it was pirated and available on torrent sites everywhere. And without a proper press rollout, the only reviews available were trickling in from these international markets, or random blogs in other countries. A slew of reviews - many of which were from obscure blogs in Russia and Turkey, not even written in English - hit Rotten Tomatoes. With no counterpoint from any credible critics, we debuted with a 30% rotten rating.

It would stay this way for years.

Relativity finally admitted the truth, declared bankruptcy, and went to court. Our movie was dragged down into the vortex with it. Our abysmal tomatometer score suggested that the movie wasn't released because it was bad, not because the studio had gone bankrupt. This assumption stuck to us like glue as the film languished in bankruptcy court.

Heartbroken, we turned our attention elsewhere. I would write and direct both Hush and Ouija: Origin of Evil before the whole distribution saga of Before I Wake was finally resolved.

In the years that followed, very little would be said about Before I Wake, and whatever was said was absolutely not positive... how bad must this movie be, after all, to be so unceremoniously pulled from the release? Some theaters just left the poster up, still saying "Coming Soon." I know of one theater in LA that had it up for over a year.

By the time Relativity finally settled their mess, and the film was unceremoniously given back to us with the most lackluster apology imaginable, and our chances of a domestic theatrical distribution were entirely obliterated. The film was already available online through piracy and a tiny handful of foreign blogs had defined our critical reception. No other studio would touch it.

We were able to arrange one screening of the film once it was unencumbered... we had a single showing at Fantastia in Montreal, a festival I adore. Instead of a huge worldwide theatrical release, the movie would play exactly one time, to one audience.

It was sold out, it played wonderfully, and it remains one of my favorite screenings of my career.

With Mitch Davis, Fantasia's artistic director, Kate Bosworth, and my wife Kate Siegel.

In the years that had passed since we shot Before I Wake, Kate Siegel and I had gotten married. At the premiere, and in the picture above, Kate was pregnant with our son.

We named him Cody, after the little boy in Somnia... the little boy whose dreams came true.

In 2016, Netflix acquired the North American rights to Before I Wake, and quietly dumped it on the service. There was no premiere, no rollout, no screeners sent to critics. One day it just appeared on the service without fanfare, as Netflix does to so many titles.

It didn't even appear on the New Releases tab.

A few critics found the movie on their own, and slowly some new reviews started to trickle out. Bloody Disgusting led the charge, discussing how the film had been wrongfully maligned over the years, and correcting identified it as a "haunted fairy tale" that was being handicapped by the expectations that it was a horror film.

Our tomatometer began to slowly rise. After some time, it tipped out of "rotten" into "fresh"... and today stands comfortably at 66%. Those early, malicious reviews are still there, the movie is still scarred by them... but despite Relativity (and eventually Netflix's) efforts to rebrand the movie as a straight horror film, most critics were able to see it for what it truly was.

Our audience was as well, for the most part. Some viewers yawning their way through the Netflix original horror feature section would find it, and get something maybe just a little more thoughtful than they were expecting. A few people reached out to me to talk about losing their own loved ones to cancer, or about how the sweeter elements of the story impacted them. I've always been grateful for that.

But ultimately, the movie was just brutalized by its studio. I've never again had so much damage inflicted on a project by a creative partner and supposed collaborator. And while Netflix did the bare minimum when it came to releasing the movie, I am still very grateful that that they even did that much... if it wasn't for Netflix picking it up, I think there's every chance Before I Wake would have never been made available at all.

I'm proud of the movie. It's not perfect, by any means - it was an ambitious sophomore effort and I had a lot to learn about a lot of things - but it has some beautiful ideas and some moments that really work. I see its flaws clearly, too, and while I tell myself some were out of my control (like the awkward scares forced on us by Relativity), others were most certainly entirely on me. Not everything works, and that's okay.

But man, Jacob Tremblay is phenomenal in this movie. And I absolutely adore the final ten minutes.

My son Cody is almost 7 now, exactly as old as Jacob was when he was cast to play his namesake. I hope Cody's dreams come true; that's why we named him what we named him.

Sometimes, our dreams don't come true quite how we might expect.

Hollywood is just kinda like that, I guess.

[ninja-muse]

As you can tell, my plan to acquire only two books this month went perfectly. No notes. 😰 On the upside, four of these I did not pay for and only one of them was full price, so it’s like I saved money.

I really do need to get better at reading off my physical TBR though. I’ve started a Storygraph challenge for myself, so we’ll see how that goes.

July started with a bookish bang: there was the planned bookstore visit (three books bought, not two, but I unhauled ten and used my credit), and then my dad came down so we could marathon the local Shakespeare festival, which was great! And somehow not the Shakespeare overdose I was worried about, and they nailed the play we were worried they weren’t going to.

After that, it’s been business as usual. I feel like I’m behind in my reading because Malady of the Mind took so long to get through, but honestly, I suspect I’m not because I’ve been blowing through lighter fiction on the side. The library’s finally getting April releases into circulation though, so I’ve had physical reads from them again. (Which will totally help my physical TBR goals, I know.) Very much looking forward to The Library Thief, which I picked up this week.

The only other noteworthy thing of the month is I discovered my library has an ebook of Rose/House by Arkady Martine! Except it’s in French, so it’s been taking me a bit to get through. I might not even get it done before it’s due back, but if so I’ll just check it out again because it is good, just … in French.

Click through to see everything I read this month, in the rough order of how glad I was to have read them.

Malady of the Mind - Jeffery A. Lieberman

A history of schizophrenia, with a hopeful ending.

10/10

warning: detailed descriptions of the symptoms of schizophrenia and past and present medical and societal treatments of the mentally ill

reading copy

The Reappearance of Rachel Price - Holly Jackson

Bel’s participating in a documentary about the disappearance of her mother sixteen years ago when her mom walks back in the door. Now nothing is okay.

8.5/10

Black British secondary character

warning: kidnapping, gaslighting, psychological abuse

library ebook

The Pairing - Casey McQuiston

Theo is over Kit. Four years over, which means there’s enough distance to take their dream European food tour solo and close the book. Except Kit had the same idea. Out in August.

8/10

🏳️‍🌈 protagonists (bi man, bi enby), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary and incidental characters (sapphic, achillean), 🏳️‍🌈 author

reading copy

Dear Wendy - Ann Zhao

Two aroace teens start competing college advice columns. Professionally they’re rivals. Unknowingly, they’re becoming friends.

7/10

🏳️‍🌈 protagonists (aroace), Chinese-American protagonist, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (lesbian, bi, demisexual), Indian-American secondary character, Black secondary character, Latin secondary character, Chinese-American author, 🏳️‍🌈 author

warning: aceophobia

library book

Goodnight Tokyo - Atsuhiro Yoshida

Interwoven stories about nighttime life in Tokyo. A prop procurer seeks the perfect items, a crack detective seeks his father’s films, a diner owner seeks a past customer, and more.

7/10

Japanese cast, Japanese author

reading copy

Peking Duck and Cover - Vivien Chien

Lana’s helping run the Chinese New Year celebrations at Asia Village and everything’s going great—until someone kills a lion dancer.

7/10

Taiwanese-American protagonist, largely Chinese-American cast, Taiwanese-American author

warning: gun violence

borrowed from work

The Tomb of the Mili Mongga - Samuel Turvey

A conservationist seeking fossils in Indonesia is sidetracked by a local legend of a giant wild man, and along the way muses on extinction, human cultures, folklore, and our place in the world.

7.5/10

Indonesian secondary characters

library book

My Love in Stitches, Vol. 1 - Emily Gossmann

Frankie’s trying to get her life together when she meets Momo, but dating her is going to be hard. First, she needs a job, and also their friends are dead set on keeping them apart….

7/10

🏳️‍🌈 protagonists (sapphic), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (sapphic), 🏳️‍🌈 author, 🇨����

kickstarted/off my TBR

The Dishonest Miss Take - Faye Murphy

Desperate to clear her name after a murder she didn't commit, a superpowered former villain stumbles onto a mystery—and a curious assassin. Out in September.

5.5/10

🏳️‍🌈 protagonist (sapphic), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary character (sapphic)

digital reading copy/won

Picture Books

It’s Raining Bats & Frogs - Rebecca Colby

The witch parade is in danger of being rained out but one young witch has the solution. Or does she?

Scorch, Hedgehog of Doom - Cate Berry

Scorch is going to be the biggest, baddest hedgehog ever, no matter what.

Into the Goblin Market - Vikki VanSickle

Two sisters live near the goblin market. When one seeks out its temptations, the other follows to save her.

Reread

Timeline - Michael Crichton

In the late 1990s, a tech company finds a way to send people to the Hundred Years’ War. Immediately, things go wrong.

7/10

warning: misogyny, attempted sexual violence

library ebook

Currently reading

A Gentleman from Japan - Thomas Lockley

The true story of a Japanese man who found himself at the court of Elizabeth I.

warning: slavery, orientalism

library book

Rose/House - Arkady Martine

There is a body within Rose House—two, if you count its architect, who ordered the house shuttered with his passing and left to its AI. Only one person is allowed to enter now, and she’s accounted for. And yet there is a body within Rose House….

library ebook

Music from the Earliest Notations to the Sixteenth Century - Richard Taruskin

A history of early written European music, in its social and political contexts.

The Penguin Complete Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle

Victorian detective stories.

disabled POV character (limb injury), occasional Indian secondary characters

warning: racism, colonialism

Monthly total: 9 + 1 + 3 Yearly total: 68 Queer books: 4 Authors of colour: 3 Books by women: 5 Authors outside the binary: 1 Canadian authors: 1 Classics: 0 Off the TBR shelves: 1 Books hauled: 11 ARCs acquired: 4 ARCs unhauled: 4 DNFs: 0

January February March April May June

[simplyclary]

We Won.

The title is self-explanatory and is a good reference for those who know both the book and the movie that these words came from. It also is the right combination of words to encompass such a special feeling that has not left me since the moment I woke up this morning at 6am (mind you, it's past 11pm as I'm writing this).

To keep this short, Taylor Zakhar Perez just won the 2023 Breaking Big Award during the SCAD Savannah Film Festival yesterday, October 27, 2023 and I was one of the many proud fans that was waiting for him since the moment he was announced to be a panelist and an honoree at this event.

I can't even begin to write down in words the amount of emotions that I have been feeling since I saw this photo. A mix of happiness, joy, pride and so much more. Like he really deserves this award.

I just realized that this is his first award in his acting career and believe me when I say that it is just the first of the many awards he will receive for future projects. With the right collaborations, projects and stories, Taylor Zakhar Perez is sure to gather more awards in the future (maybe some Emmys, Golden Globes and sure, let's manifest it that he will get nominated for an Academy Award one day).

Another thing that makes this award special for him and for us, the TZP Squad, is the knowledge that he got this after many rejections and people telling him that he "wasn't Latin enough". I'm just glad that Taylor is proving himself and I'm sure he will continue to do so in the future.

I'm excited to manifest great things for Taylor. I, along with my fellow TZP squad folks, will continue to love and support him in his future endeavors, in and out of TV and film.

Before I end this entry, I would like to comment on his outfit here. It's the definition of casual but make it designer and sustainable. His usual tousled hair and stubble adds a little grunge but he still managed to pull it off in true TZP fashion.

He won't be able to read this but if I were to say something to him, I would say this: Taylor, my dear, congratulations on the award and I'm looking forward to what good things the future holds for you! You are one of the most talented and kindest people I know and love and this is the beginning of something special.

History, huh? I bet you he made some!

[violetfaust]

For my own sanity

I'm trying to put together a list of the various versions of Goncharov (1973) screened throughout the last fifty years.

The four-and-a-half-hour film festival cut that even Scorsese felt was a rough draft

The US theatrical release in 1973

The 1973 European theatrical release with its extra half hour of footage

The 1973 Latin American dub with its extra half hour of different footage

The so-called Secret Reels that producer Domenico Procacci the Elder (not to be confused with the unrelated Italian filmmaker Domenic Procacci the Younger, who has only been active since the late 80s) used to screen at his fantastic, legendary drug-fueled parties in the 70s--these seem to be (at least one of) the source(s) of the deleted Goronchov/Andrey sex scene

The 1980 director's cut

The 1980s Soviet bootleg (which became so popular that it led to the 1993 re-envisioning)

Matteo's own controversial "Writer's Cut" (particularly complicated because apparently he never stopped editing and re-editing to fully achieve his personal vision--every time he screened the movie after 1975, privately or publicly, it had at least some minor differences and often incredibly large ones, with entire character arcs added or lost). At least one of these, my own personal favorite with the deleted second epilogue, was copied and got into general circulation on college campuses and whatnot

Also probably based on one of Matteo's cuts, the "Underground" cuts that were the basis of the Queer improv parties dating back at least to 1982

The first VHS release

The rare Betamax release with the extra Patchka scene

The post-Soviet edit 1993 "modernization" re-envisioning Gonchorov/Katya's backstory that was most Millennials' introduction to the movie

The butchered 90s broadcast TV airings (both of which cut vital plot points--such as Ice Pick Joe's lobotomy backstory--and were likely the reason an entire generation lost interest in the film)

The 1998 25th-anniversary director's cut (the one that The New Yorker famously panned with "It seems that Scorsese has forgotten his own movie")

The 40th-anniversary DVD release with six hours of additional footage

The recent gorgeously digitized Blu-ray release that included the nine-hour supercut and "Making Of" documentary (and probably inspired the Gonchorov renaissance)

The eagerly awaited upcoming 50th-anniversary Criterion edition that's rumored to incorporate the "Lost Reels" that Matteo, Scorsese, Al Pacino, and second assistant editor Mariana Lyudmila Manuali had kept private, as well as the distinct four hours of Patchka footage that the cinematographer filmed whenever he got bored.

And, of course, the crowdsourced Internet project to recover the "definitive" Gonchorov, incorporating most of the known footage as well as new home-filmed snippets from the private collections of minor players like Lynda Carter (in her first screen role as Dancer #2) and Henry Winkler (the busboy)--currently running twelve hours

Am I missing anything?

(Note: This list intentionally excludes the probably apocryphal student project that reframed the entire film from Valery's point of view--even if it actually exists and uses original footage, it can only be considered an homage to the full film and not an actual variant.)

[thatrickmcginnis]

SAM RIVERS, Toronto 1989

That Sam Rivers was born just over a hundred years ago is a reminder that the avant-garde tradition in jazz is an old one. The son of a gospel singer, the Oklahoma-born Rivers moved to Boston where he studied at the Conservatory, which helped build his command of music theory and composition that would make him stand out in his career. Briefly a member of Miles' Davis legendary quintet, he recorded his first album for Blue Note Records in 1964, working as a sideman on albums by Blue Note artists such as Tony Williams, Andrew Hill and Larry Young. His work would often straddle bebop and free jazz, and he would perform and record with influential artists such as Anthony Braxton, Dave Holland and Cecil Taylor. In the '70s he and his wife Beatrice opened their NYC loft to performances, and Studio Rivbea became the most famous of the venues in the city's "loft scene".

I met and photographed saxophonist and flautist Sam Rivers when he came through town with Dizzy Gillespie's Big Band - the trumpeter hadn't been part of the jazz avant-garde for many years, but he frequently hired musicians like Rivers for his band. (Latin jazz trumpet star Arturo Sandoval was also in Gillespie's band when I saw them at Berlin, a club in midtown Toronto.) The perk with playing with Gillespie is that touring conditions were more than decent, and after I talked Rivers into doing a shoot with me, he told me to meet him at the old Sutton Place, a luxury hotel downtown where I did a lot of shooting, as it was the home of the film festival and frequently used to put up big stars by the movie and record companies.

I found a decent spot for my shoot with Sam Rivers in the mezzanine lobby of the Sutton Place, where an antique couch had been placed in front of a big tapestry. (The spot would become a favorite one for shoots.) The light wasn't brilliant but I put high speed Kodak film in my camera and managed to elicit a good range of expressions from Rivers as I coaxed him through our brief but - in hindsight - very productive portrait session. My live photos of Rivers playing in Dizzy Gillespie's band weren't as successful, as the spotlights were mostly on Dizzy and Rivers stuck to his spot downstage from the bebop star. Rivers and his wife moved their Studio Rivbea performing space to Florida in the '90s, where he was able to put together a larger band, and his private recordings have been mined to produce a series of records documenting his work at Studio Rivbea. Sam Rivers died of pneumonia in Florida in December of 2011.