#Lederer Watches

[watchilove]

Review: LEDERER Triple Certified Observatory Chronometer - the best watch for the New Year's Eve

LEDERER Triple Certified Observatory Chronometer has been awarded the prestigious GPHG Chronometry Prize 2024 – which makes it the perfect choice for the most important moment of the start of the new year! I dare you to find a more proper watch to measure perfectly the passage of midnight. Besides the precision certified by three different laboratories, this watch looks amazing – maybe a bit to…

[fourorfivemovements]

Films Watched in 2024: 105. Midnight (1939) - Dir. Mitchell Leisen

[richardlearnsgames]

Disney Space Mountain Game PLAYTHROUGH

And the Space Mountain play through!

[elderscrollsconceptart]

Text below is transcribed from Ray Lederer's 2012 blogpost about Adam Adamowicz after Adam had passed away.

Both were artists on Skyrim and shared an office together. They were very very close.

---

[Ray Lederer (L) and Adam Adamowicz (R)]

-Tuesday, February 14, 2012

I first met Adam when I started working at a tiny game development studio in Boulder, Colorado back in 1998 called Devil’s Thumb Entertainment. I walked into the studio on my first day of work and I’m pretty sure The Cramps were playing full blast from his general direction. There he was, sun baked and surrounded with what at the time I assumed were rare Jaimie Hewlett sketches pasted up around him, loads of cds and flyers for rockabilly rollerderby raver chicks with squids on their heads. ‘Welcome to the monster factory!’ he said and I thought instantly ‘Oh hell yeah! I came to the right place!’ It didn’t take long to figure out that what I thought were Jaimie Hewlett drawings were actually his and to be quite honest were 10 times more appealing and hilarious. (No offense Jaimie!)

When I finally got the chance to see his apartment in Denver I realized I was stepping into the mind of a creative genius. His entire apartment from floor to ceiling, front to back was covered with his paintings, massive cardboard sculptural cat like gargoyles, christmas lights, intricate costumes (designed with little more than a leather jacket, cheap sombrero, toys from a thrift shop, black and silver spray paint and hot glue) flyers for previous rent parties from his old warehouse, Tank Girl comics, Low Rider and American Artist magazines, Thomas Pynchon novels and a constant stream of music. Every square inch was interesting and VITAL and ALIVE. This was an intellect far beyond anyone else I’d ever met and there was not a single hint of pretentiousness to him. His entire life was a beautifully structured and disciplined chaos. Even then I began to see that not only was I in the presence of greatness, I was in the presence of one of the more important illustrators of the late 20th and early 21st centuries. He just didn’t know it yet and neither did anyone else. Quite frankly he wouldn’t give a shit if someone gave him that label. He simply wanted to come up with more ideas and get better at drawing. Period.

Since then we got into many beer soaked adventures that sometimes included late night bike rides through the city streets of Denver with a boom-box strapped to the back blasting Big Audio Dynamite with sparklers hanging off the handlebars(and some stiches on the scalp of yours truly). Dangerously drunken skateboarding with cap guns, ditching psychedelic parties to go laugh our asses off and throw giant rocks in a frozen river, concerts, weekend long patio surfing tours in the Colorado summers, trips to the reservoir to float around wearing finely crafted and thrilling 12pack headgear, lunchtime bike rides up to our favorite outdoor patio Rhumba in Boulder for $2 Red Stripes and then back to work again, and many hours working close to him and learning as much as I could about being an artist and a better human being. He once said to me “I may not be Mozart, but at least I can try to be the Pixies.” He just wanted to entertain people in any way he could.

In his last few days we spent together in the hospital we sat on his hospital bed listening to music for hours, talking, and drawing in our sketchbooks. Our conversations were tinted with what was happening for him in the moment certainly, but mostly we talked about friends, art, music, and life. We spoke without much nostalgia or finality, just very real and present and forward looking despite the circumstances. He kept drawing until he couldn't possibly draw anymore, squeezing every last ounce he could out of life, just as he always had.

Watch papa go to work.

I love you Adam. You continue to be my friend, mentor, and greatest inspiration

---

Original post can be found here:

[boag]

Watching Pandora’s Box (1929) and Francis Lederer rlly had the most gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen on a man

[saigawrites]

My dear gelatin orb pet,

Seelie! Genshin x Platonic! Gn! Reader

Inazuma edition | part 1 part 3

Tags : crack, fluff, scenarios, headcanons

Warninigs : mentions of stalking, animal attack

Summary : you took home a strange creature that looked nothing like anything in your world. So you somehow try to live and be friends with the peculiar pet of yours.

A strange flying orb is now basking in your presence, observing you attentively. Uneasiness filled your entire being as you were stared down at, so you attempted to break the suffocating atmosphere by talking to the orbit. Minutes pass, and there is no reaction whatsoever, until the little thing flies off somewhere, only to return with a torn off paper sheet and a pencil in their tiny nubs.

Heizou ♥︎

"Hey~! I am Heizou, the great detective of Inazuma! It sure was a dream of mine to one day meet someone as odd as you! I hope we can get along with each other, even with our different physical traits. I was wondering, could I please make a psychological study with you? I want to know if there's any more oddities about you, especially your mind!"

Okay, why is this period blood blob trying to attempt psychological experiments with you now? You just met, and he's already looking through your soul 🧐.

You might suck at geography but you never heard anything about the so called 'Inazuma'. Wait, so he's an alien?

That theory have already explained why he was so interested in your psychology, and honestly, you were kind of scared of him after the realization.

But it was still hard to feel threatened by an dark red floating circle with a little bouncing antenna. Maybe he used that to communicate with his species?

You weren't familiar with the behavior of different creatures from another planets, but you discovered that these one seemed to be extra clingy.

He floats after you everywhere, always watching with the most attentive gaze, looking out for any type of quirks you might have. You became all the more aware of him, secretly staring at him with your peripheral vision so that he couldn't try anything funny🤨.

He would startle you a lot, annoying you and scaring you on purpose. He LOVES your reactions, whether it would be you losing your temper and tossing him around like a basketball, or you screaming at the top of your lungs when you feel something slimy wiggle under your shirt.

You're lucky that he doesn't do that all the time. Surprisingly, the cherry colored orb has his own business to do, which is just as strange as his appearance. He likes to go out, watch and stalk random people on the street. You found out when you caught him red-handed in the act, hiding behind a bush and looking at all the people passing by.

You tried to scold him, tell him that it's dangerous to go around for him like that, but to no avail, he would always nod in confirmation and then do the same thing on the next day.

So you decided to find him a hobby, something that would distract him long enough from harassing strangers on the streets. And that is, television. News channels in particular.

It was completely accidental when you found out about his interest. You were extra bored, and decided to finally watch the TV in like a decade. Soon you found your crimson red companion levitating in the hall, glancing at the TV and back to you a few times before flying to your side and nuzzling in your lap, making himself comfortable in your warm hoodie. Petting his tiny body, you both took in the situations happening all around the world.

Arataki Itto ♡

"HEY THERE!!! IM THE FAMOUS ARATAKI ITTO!! THE LEDER OF THE ARATAKI GANG!!! ITS NICE TO MEET YOU!!! WHATS YOUR NAME? LETS BE FRIENDS!! YOU LOOK SO COOL!!!! DO YOU WANT TO JOIN MY GANG?"

Woah, that's one... energetic light bulb. Bouncing on your office table cheerily while his long vertical horns wobble a bit, he squeaks excitedly as if he just found out he won a lottery. Well, he kinda did though, if you're the one to take care of him.

At least that's what he thinks, as your demonstration of desiring to bathe him from all the dirt and dust he somehow gathered gave him all the right signals.

Even if he splashed and spilled all the water onto you, and wiggled and squeaked under the turned on faucet like an over-energized parrot, still, you would rub his soapy circular body with care, patting him with the softest towel of yours that he was sure you were the fittest blob-parent of all.

Did I mention parrots? He is one. An even more chaotic one. You have to hold him with your most strong grasp from him speeding across your house like a flash, bouncing off walls, ceiling and the floor like a deflated balloon. You always have to scold him like a concerned parent about how his form is not exactly unbreakable, and he still needs to be careful with surroundings.

And that escalated into him finding your bed as the best trampoline he can access. You want to stop him and tell him that he's going to break the carcass if he continues, but you just can't resist the sight of a palm sized jelly ball jumping on your bed gleefully, ridiculously rotating in the air as he lets happy sounds escape his nonexistent vocal cords.

Sometimes you would curse the universe for making your circle companion this cute, because he sure can cause a lot of trouble. Almost getting mauled by the neighbors dog because he wanted to pet it two days ago and almost breaking all of your glass dishes because he wanted to help you make the table yesterday. Oh boy, I'm sure excited for what's in store for the future😀.

Though, it was what you should've expected from a supposed gang leader. He even invited you to be a member of this band of his, remember?

You do agree now with all those shoujo mangas where the gangsta would actually be a softie inside, because your glowing orange ball friend sure is, no matter how destructive he acts.

Yae miko ♥︎

"My, my... such a interesting creature you are! It is sure a blessing for me to be in your presence, another amusing humanoid~. I am the Guuji of the Grand Narukami shrine, Yae Miko. I am also the owner of the Yae publishing house. As a grandee of the kitsune clan, it is a pleasure of mine to be familiar with such a high being like you. I am in your care from now on, my dear~"

WHAT IS THIS LIGHT PINK DOWNTURNED FOX EARS GAS FILLED BALLOON ON🗣🙌💯🔥🔥

On all seriousness though, you tried your hardest to understand atleast half of what she wrote, but so far what you seemed to catch is that she's nowhere near an earth creature. Oh and her name is Yae Miko.

Confusedly glancing at her then at her message, your nerve cells steamed as they tried to figure out what type of emotions you should be feeling in this case. The guuji seemed to be quite entertained by your puzzled face and somewhat judging side eye.

Her actions make you no less confused, as you question why would she harshly tug on your clothes at the most randomest times of the day. Out of nowhere, the pink squishy orb would just sail in the air over to you, and then pinch a spot on your clothed body and pull it with an incomprehensible strength.

Which leads you to chasing her, speeding up after her oddly fast self. With groans and screams you would finally catch up to her and squeeze her annoying ass to smitherins☠.

If you don't react to her antics, she'll keep being even more of an ass and pinch on your skin, hard. So far atleast half of your body now itches and pulsates because of your flying jelly companion.

Other than annoying you, the cherry blossom blob with ears likes to do research. Literally on anything. It ranges from politics, history, culture to bitcoin, nfts and all of the other shady stuff. She doesn't take half of the happening seriously, finding the stupidity of your kind ridiculous.

Oh, and she is going to shove it in your face. Always giggling when you two would watch an educational video on some topic, as if making fun of you. When she would write her opinion on your communication notebook she would always leave a snide remark like "the absurd that your kind ensues never ceases to humour me" or some shit.

She really just makes fun of your whole existence as if she's superior in any way. You do your best to hold yourself and not slap her into the oblivion. Oh, but she knows you would never do that. She knows.

Kokomi ♡

“I, Sangonomiya Kokomi, want to greatly express my gratitude towards your actions, human-like creature with a pure soul. Your kindness will always be remembered and appreciated in my heart. Now, as you read this, I shall, as the grand seigneur of Watatsumi affairs, be taken care of by you, as you are in capability to do so. I am one of the descendants of the Sangonomiya clan, and my full form being taken away from me is a major cause of danger for me. I hope you understand my demands, and I hope you will comply with them.”

A lot of confusing words and hard to spell names didn’t stop you from looking at her with puppy eyes and an ‘aww’ escaping your lips. Even though her tone might sounded a bit bossy near the end, your inner mother instincts still kicked in and your heart swore to protect the light globule that looked at you with anticipation.

Her colour pallet reminded you of aqua monsters, something along the lines of mermaids, sirens, and the similar. And you kinda guessed it, since the way your pink and ocean blue pearl like friend gravitated towards water was as if a magnetic pull was in between them.

The funniest thing is that at the first few days she didn’t even know you had water in your house. Modern furniture confused her senses and for a while she thought your biology didn’t require water.

Until one day you came particularly tired home, and the only thing in your mind was the thought of running a warm calming bath with the aroma of your sweet candles. Not noticing your dwarf merblob levitating right after you and watching you turn on the bath faucet, made you jump in your place when she plopped herself in the filling water.

You were about to groan and ask her to get out, up until your gaze fell on the itty-bitty joyous expression that she demonstrated while floating in the lukewarm liquid. With a snort, a small smile followed along with a defeated look. Letting the spheroid bathe instead of you, you contemplated about her otherworldliness.

It all escalated into a degree where she would spend almost all of her time in your bathroom, swimming in your bathtub hours on end. On your knees, with pleas and begging, you would query her to get out of the pear shaped tank, but to no avail, the deep sea creature would just ignore your whines and continue flowing around in the water.

“Komi please, I haven’t bathed in a decade.”

“Splash. Blub blub blub.”

And there she goes again, making bubbles and blowing them at your face as a response. Even so, you still let the marine pearl have her way, as she’s way too adorable to be mad at.

Kazuha ♥︎

“Come driving rain or winds that churn, I shall return, by blade alone, armed, if barefoot, to my home... I am Kaedehara Kazuha, a wanderer who roams the land. Fate alone has destined us to meet, thus it is a great gift for us to be able to communicate, distinctive individual. May I put a question to your origins, your story, and your name?”

What is he, a poet of some sorts? Such a distinguished gentleman, saying such extravagant things, but looking so ridiculous it could kill a person.

Guessing was probably your only best talent, as this japanese flag jello was immaculately successful at using all of the paper and stationary that he could find in your house to make his pieces of art.

Or the “haikus” as he calls them. Paper scrolls all over any hard surface, fully scribbled over with elegant handwriting. You wonder how the heck can a round strawberry marshmallow with nibs instead of hands write so much and also write prettier than you could ever manage.

Reading through those is one embarrassing of a trip as more than 70% of the writings are about you. The other 30% are about the environment, the furniture, the nature, the textures and sometimes about his homeland as you assumed.

And no you definitely didn’t bawl your eyes out while reading those and no you certainly didn’t feel sorry for the tiny little guy and no you for sure didn’t hug him in the most gentlest way and promise him that you’ll somehow get him back, no, beyond any doubt that didn’t happen.

On another note, this guy was unquestionably the cause of your literature grades significantly improving. Both you and your teacher are raising a brow at how good you instantaneously became at writing essays and other in the sorts. You even caught yourself in the act of speaking flowery, as if your 18th century self out of the blue found themselves in the modern world.

And that’s all thanks to Kazuha, and his litres of poetry inside your house. What’s outside your house though, is his music. Yea, turns out your spherical friend is talented in tunes too.

On one particular morning when you two were in a public garden, choosing an outlying area to have your picnic in, you came across a eerily wholesome phenomenon.

Holding a tree leaf in his itty-bitty arms, he seemed to be performing a tune with the help of the frond. You stared at your pal in awe, mouth wide open as a beautiful melody rang through your ears.

When your homeboy finished his little concert you couldn’t help but clap gleefully and throw wows at his excellent performance. Just how lucky were you to befriend such a talented jelly orb.

ARGGFDDDDGJSFICGGV IM SORRY FOR BEOMG SOOOO SLOW😭😵😰😓 I’m currently in a middle of a whole makeover of my house so it’s kinda unmotivating for me to do literally anything but no worries, your homegirl will always find a way to deliver🔥🔥🔥🔥

[manic-maniac-man]

HUgE Aug 2010

THE DISTILLERY

A whiskey distillery with over 80 years of history nestled in the mountains. The storehouse where countless bottles of raw liquor sleep is enveloped in a tranquil aroma of alcohol.

Blazer by Paul Harnden, ¥165,900, shirt, ¥60,900, knit pants, ¥102,900, boots, ¥176,400 (all MORERIDE) Vintage work coat worn underneath, ¥18,900 (JANTIQUES) Vintage apron, ¥8,190 (Go Getter)

Anachronorm newsboy cap ¥11,550 (Balance Tokyo)

Bee Green thermal leggings ¥7,140 (Nepenthes Tokyo)

<ts(s)> socks ¥3,360 (NOT SO HARD WORK CO., LTD.)

Used gloves - reference product (CHI-CHI'S)

Military shirt by Arts & Science ¥30,450 (MEN'S SHOP BY ARTS&SCIENCE) Used Henley neck cut-and-sew ¥5,670 (Jeanne Baret)

Paul Harnden suspender pants ¥102,900 (MORERIDE)

Glasses by Traction Productions, ¥30,500,

Metal glass cord by Filao, ¥2,300 (both at Lunette Jura Omotesando Hills store)

Anachronorm work coat ¥29,400, Henley neck cut and sew ¥13,650 (both Balance Tokyo)

Herringbone vest by Frank Leder ¥39,900 (MACH55 Ltd.)

Paul Harnden suspender pants, ¥102,900, shoes, ¥144,900 (both MORERIDE)

Glasses by Traction Productions, ¥30,500, metal glasses cord by Filao, ¥2,300 (both at Lunette Jura Omotesando Hills store)

Antique pocket watch chain ¥75,000 (Cotton Tail) Used gloves (reference item) (CHI-CHI'S)

Imperial Post Overalls blouson ¥31,500 (Nepenthes

Overalls by Paul Harnden, ¥155,400, boots, ¥176,400 (both MORERIDE)

Used Hanes T-shirt ¥9,030 (JANTIQUES)

Anachronorm work coat draped over a chair ¥29,400 (Balance Tokyo)

Vintage leather car coat ¥189,000, 50s T-shirt ¥8,400 (both JANTIQUES)

Wool vest by Frank Leader ¥30,450 (MACH55 Ltd.)

Vintage apron ¥16,800 (Olgou) Dappers newsboy cap ¥7,875 (ZOOL BROCANTE Nakameguro)

Vintage leather car coat ¥189,000, 50s T-shirt ¥8,400 (both JANTIQUES)

Vintage apron ¥16,800 (Olgou)

Paul Harnden suspender pants ¥102,900, boots ¥176,400 (both MORERIDE)

Dappers newsboy cap ¥7,875 (ZOOL BROCANTE Nakameguro)

Used gloves - reference product (CHI-CHI'S)

[twothpaste]

fic snippet featuring lucas & porky & the profound disillusionment of realizing you're never gonna get through to a motherfucker 😔

It laid, back then, a hundred n' fifty some-odd feet from the shoreline. No walkways of wood nor metal carved the path. If an audience with the king was what you sought, you'd have to rough it to his throne. Through the soggy stench of rotting cardboard. Drenched facades melting, squelching, and pooling at your heels. Traverse his skyscraper's serpentine spine. Either atop its precarious columns, or beneath its ribcage archways. Today, the big stupid spikes with which he'd adorned the sides've since been weathered away to moundish stumps. In 2 ADD, though? They'd formed a sharklike jaw line in the treacherous muck. Dentition to rival the Dragon's own.

She soared high. Black streak on a gray blanket. Wouldda blotted out the sun with her wings, if it'd been up there to begin with. Even back then, New Pork's desolation had a notorious propensity for overcast weather. Lucas had to wonder whether that was her doing, too.

Lord of the Rings wouldn't make it into his repertoire for a long while. Leder's library had yet to scavenge any copies. The Hobbit, however, was a White Ship stowaway. The old judge kept it in a secret stash, with the rest of the survivors' forsaken tomes. Lucas'd been the first to read it, once the locks were finally broken. He couldn't help but think of it. Here of all places. Stony imagery of a lost mountain kingdom. A darker dragon, hoarding ill-gotten gains. How small he felt. How bitterly humble. To traverse these halls.

The Absolutely Safe Capsule didn't sit atop a gilded pile. Just purple-gray rubble. N' acid rain puddles. N' concrete.

A broad, hungry, window-bound smile greeted him. Upon his arrival.

Lucas didn't humor it with any of his usual salutations. Not even a glance. Just trudged right past the pane, and seated himself upon a closely-nestled boulder. He remembers his chewed nails clawing against the harsh, clammy surface.

"Y'know, Lucas," Porky purred. With no particular forward. Whether the king thought his visitor's silence haughty, amusing - or perhaps even infuriating - he didn't bother to say so. "I've been thinking," he simply announced. Craning his miserable neck, right up to the glass, as if tryin' to catch whatever delightful pout or scowl might grace the hero's dumb, pimply face.

"I bet," said Lucas. Flat as a burnt flapjack. That made Porky grin, too.

"It's sort of funny. Hilarious, even. That your so-called new society's here, to salvage my city."

This came about as outta left field to Lucas as it probably does to you. Which is to say, hardly. Weren't never really conversations, to be had with Porky. Whatever happened to be on his mind, he'd barf it right onto your sneakers. Then glance at you, expectantly, almost innocently. Like he was awfully eager to watch you clean it up.

"My city," he repeated. With a cough. "Which, as you know, I modeled oh-so-painstakingly after our old world."

Lucas turned those slatey eyes of his toward the Capsule. But held his tongue. Again - you can call it patience.

"It's almost as if nothing starts from the ground up. You're always recycling something rotten. Always on the shoulders of man-eating giants. Even if you try to pretend otherwise."

"Yep," Lucas contended. Gray as the rock he perched on. "That's the idea. We're learnin' from the past. Y'couldda stood to do the same."

Porky's prison emitted a raucous cackle. If Lucas were still looking, he'd've seen a curled lip. A snarling smirk.

"Oh. I learned plenty, my friend."

To sigh would be to appease him. Spoiling a bad dog.

"I don't really get why you won't apologize," Lucas mused, instead. "Why y'won't even fake it. There's folks who'd fall for it."

(He prob'ly would've. He thought. Up until three days prior. He'd decline to add that, though. Let Porky guess it for himself.)

"Heh. What can I say? I'm an honest guy. Much more honest than you cheating, stealing, hypocritical hicks give me credit for. Besides -- Agh..! Haahhck…!"

Porky's bone-popping shrug was cut short by a trademark wheezing fit. Lucas waited. Nails grating.

"Ah.. Hagh… Besides.. Little ol' Porky Minch's got nothing to apologize for, anyways. All I've done is reveal the cold, hard truth. Taught you sorry lot a thing'r two 'bout human nature." His royal highness dipped into a mockery of the peasants' lowly drawl. Before extending one hand, to count his points on his wretched fingers. "Uncertainty, control, anger. Frailty. Self-destruction. That's always been the long n' short of it. N' always will be."

"Agree to disagree," Lucas maintained. His low, crackly, teenaged timbre shifting an inch closer to a growling grumble. Porky ate it up. When you've been stuck in an oversized baseball for two years, you tend to develop a ravenous craving for the smallest of crumbs.

"Fine by me. Your descendants'll realize I was right all along. Even if you're too proud to accept it."

"My mom always used to say somethin' 'bout pots n' kettles."

"Ha. So, you admit you're the kettle."

"I'm more of a skillet, I reckon."

"Well, ain't that goddamn charmin'? My mom bashed me over the head with one of those, once. I ever tell ya that story?"

"Y'didn't. M'sorry to hear that."

A snort.

"No you're not."

In lieu of an answer, Lucas could only stare. Impasse was a recent addition to his vocabulary. He'd read it in one of Leder's books. He traced its edges, in his mind's eye. Chewed it, silently, between his tongue and teeth.

[onceuponatown]

Here is a man in a bear suit. George Bollingbroke, aka, George Ali played one in the 1903 Broadway play Midsummer Night Fancies, by George Lederer. Mr Bollingbroke was well known for playing animals on stage, playing horses, mules, lions, tigers and most famously, Nana in the 1924 film Peter Pan.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X7wmQHqSQEY

[watchilove]

Only Watch 2023: Bernhard Lederer Central Impulse Chronometer

[thisismyobsessionnow]

Crying from watching the footage of this beautiful lynx that was captured live early this morning

[pandoramsbox]

Sci-Fi Saturday: The Thing From Another World

Week 28:

Film(s): The Thing From Another World (Dir. Christian Nyby, 1951, USA)

Viewing Format: Blu-Ray

Date Watched: 2022-02-04

Rationale for Inclusion:

As stated before, part of the point of this chronological survey of science fiction cinema was an excuse to revisit favorite films. This week we finally get to one of my partner and my preexisting favorites of the genre: The Thing From Another World (Dir. Christian Nyby, 1951, USA).

In part to differentiate it from the John Carpenter 1982 readaptation, this film is usually referred to as "Howard Hawks' The Thing" because the film is so full of the director's auteur tropes that it struck critics as inconceivable that he only acted as producer on the project. He did apparently contribute to the script, as did his frequent collaborator Ben Hecht, though sole screen credit for the adaptation of "Who Goes There?" by John W. Campbell is given to Charles Lederer, another regular Hawks collaborator. 

Based on the rest of his filmography, credited director Christian Nyby seems to have only operated as director on a technical level, following the example of his mentor Hawks. Despite how the Cahiers du Cinema bros' auteur theory has been interpreted, not all directors are inherently auteurs. Just as some producers exercise authorship of their productions (sometimes to the consternation of directors), but not all. If/then logic and cult of personality can blind critics to how these dynamics vary from filmmaker to filmmaker. 

All that to say, this film is "Howard Hawks' The Thing" in the same way that Destination Moon (Dir. Irving Pichel, 1950, USA) is "George Pal's Destination Moon." Hawks' preferences for content that define him as an auteur director flowed into him taking on the role of producer. I do think he left the mechanical chores of directing The Thing to Nyby, even as he was exerting great creative control.

At any rate, The Thing was the second film released in 1951 to focus on a crash-landed alien spaceship, roughly a month after The Man from Planet X (Dir. Edgar G. Ulmer, 1951, USA). Of the many sci-fi films released in 1951, including the iconic The Day the Earth Stood Still (Dir. Robert Wise, 1951, USA), The Thing proved to be the biggest moneymaker. Contemporary reviews were decidedly mixed, yet it has gone on to be one of the most referenced and lauded examples of the sci-fi genre of its era, eventually being added to the Library of Congress' National Film Registry in 2001.

Reactions: 

As mentioned before, The Thing was a film that my partner and I had both seen before and liked, but watching it in the context of other genre films of its era gave us a deeper appreciation for it.

Due to a combination of auteur sensibilities, special effects limitations, and Production Code considerations, The Thing is only a loose adaptation of "Who Goes There?" No characters overlap between the two; the film swaps the South Pole for its northern counterpart; the spaceship crash has just happened, instead of occurring thousands of years ago; and the extraterrestrial they haul back to camp in a block of ice is not a shapeshifting mimic, but a carnivorous plant monster. Those familiar with John Carpenter's version, The Thing (Dir. John Carpenter, 1981, USA), will note that based on this list of changes alone, the later adaptation is closer to its source material than the 1951 version. Those who have read "Who Goes There?" and seen both films will confirm this fact.

The liberties taken with Hawks' The Thing may seem frustrating to people who want to watch a tighter adaptation of the source novella, but in and out of the context of 1950s sci-fi cinema, the Hawksian touches are what makes it a stand out film. The characters are all world-weary professionals who lived through World War II, and many have the sardonic sense of humor that comes from living through too many unprecedented events. The tough-talking, gorgeous and unapologetically funny Hawksian Woman is present in the form of Nikki Nicholson (Margaret Sheridan), Dr. Carrington's (Robert Cornthwaite) highly competent secretary. Unlike the clunky and stilted cardboard characters that populate The Man from Planet X, the characters have the personality, camaraderie, and senses of humor that are typical of Hawks' filmography and it makes the film a joy to watch.

In keeping with the characters being flashed out as realistic and expert people, to quote my partner, "nobody is a dumbass." Even as Dr. Carrington's attempts to better understand and communicate with The Thing (James Arness) may seem foolish, they are perfectly reasonable for an implicitly ace/aro scientist obsessed with gaining new knowledge whose ego gets the better of him. Dr. Carrigton explains during the dissection of the Thing's arm that the entity seems to be from a planet where plant life became dominant instead of animal life, yet nevertheless seems shocked when his attempts to communicate with the Thing are met with the same violence the alien showed the sled dogs earlier in the film. Either he had not connected that all animal life forms are merely lower order food to the Thing, or thought that his scientific brilliance and attempt at friendship would be well received regardless.

Scientists being treated as impractical, incorrect children in conflict with correct, military men of action has been cited by a recurring theme in sci-fi films of the 1950s by Peter Biskind in his book Seeing Is Believing: How Hollywood Taught Us to Stop Worrying and Love the Fifties. Given the nature of the Cold War politics, nuclear fears, and the United States pushing for heteronormativity after the gender role upsets necessary to engage in World War II, Biskind viewing sci-fi films like The Thing and Them! (Dir. Gordon Douglas, 1954, USA) as ideologically conservative is not an incorrect read. However, his way is not the only way to interpret these films; especially if you are not trying to make an overarching argument about a decade's worth of cinema.

Part of the appeal of The Thing is the same to me as Star Trek. My partner and I even commented on how the core plot (a militaristic group needing to protect a group of research scientists from a hostile alien) and character dynamics were proto-"Sass" Trek, as we often refer to the franchise, due to all Starfleet officers apparently having to meet a minimum sass requirement to serve. The less obvious narrative aspects The Thing has in common with Star Trek however is its respect for expertise, techno-babble, and practical, humanitarian underpinnings.

The first two are especially apparent amongst the team of scientists. Each one has discrete specializations, and is called upon to use them to interpret phenomena related to a crash landed extraterrestrial spacecraft, including its surviving passenger. In other sci-fi films, and not just during the 1950s, the scientist characters are often depicted as experts in all or multiple unrelated scientific disciplines. When such characters pop up, I am apt to quote Carlos the Scientist from an early episode of the podcast Welcome to Night Vale: "I'm a scientist. I study science."

The nature of expertise and experience translates into how the non-scientist characters are depicted and treat one another too. Captain Hendry (Kenneth Tobey) does not berate or question Tex (Nicholas Byron) the radio operator when the weather interrupts service, as some men of rank might a subordinate. Nikki's assessment of Dr. Carrington's personality and concerns about what the existence of extraterrestrials are taken seriously, not dismissed amid cocky sexism. Everyone clears the way when station nurse Mrs. Chapman (Sally Creighton) steps up to administer first aid to a victim of The Thing. The frustration that Scotty the journalist (Douglas Spencer) endures at not being able to put out his story about what's happening at the station is treated respectfully, and fully enabled when it becomes safe to do so. Despite frequently being positioned as opposing Captain Hendry, Dr. Carrington's knowledge or scientific findings are not questioned, just his lack of regard for the wellbeing of others. Individuals and their unique skill sets are prized, but so is community and general welfare, which is the dynamic that governs Star Trek crews, as well as any functional Dungeons & Dragons party.

The Thing is conservative in its plot, seeking to resolve itself by as close to a status quo as it can, and with the formation of a heterosexual union between Captain Hendry and Nikki. The dynamics in the universe where The Thing takes place are more egalitarian and good humored than the universe that Biskind delivered his criticism from. Although, The Thing is far from progressive: none of the scientists or officers are women, and the only non-white person in the film is Lee the Chinese cook (Lee Tung Foo). Still, its lack of explicit sexism and universal dignity allotted to its characters stands out relative to other films of the 1950s.

As iconic as the shot of the party investigating the downed ship forming a circle and the combat scenes with fire or electricity being used on the Thing are, it's the characters that endears The Thing to me so much as a movie. It's the quippy wingmen, kinky secretary and misanthrope lead scientist that draw me back to it again and again.

[celluloidchronicles]

Gentlemen Prefer Blondes

🇺🇸 | July 15, 1953

directed by Howard Hawks

screenplay Charles Lederer

theatre play by Joseph Fields

novel by Anita Loos

lyrics by Leo Robin

produced by 20th Century Fox

starring Marilyn Monroe, Jane Russell, Charles Coburn, Elliott Reid, Tommy Noonan

1h31 | Comedy, Romance, Musical

𐄂 not watched

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[filmjunky-99]

d e e p i m p a c t, 1998 🎬 dir. mimi leder

'We watched as the bombs shattered the second comet into a million pieces of ice and rock that burned harmlessly in our atmosphere and lit up the sky for an hour.' - beck