#Mary Gowland

[banderskrad]

hi

bye

[chiyuki-hiro]

Had to make a board for Gowland because he's such an underappreciated character.

[midnightlee25]

Yandere ABC: Mary Gowland

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get? 

Gowland is a very soft and affectionate man when it comes to his darling. Of course, the level of how instances his affection is depends on his darling. 

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling? 

He doesn't mind getting his hands dirty although he really only does it to protect his darling or at least believe he is protecting them. 

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling? 

He can be stern but not really cruel towards them, in fact most of the time he’s actually quite soft with them. 

Delusional: How aware are they? 

He is heavily delusional, but he still has some reality to him. 

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling? 

He doesn’t hide anything, yet he won’t really share anything out of the blue either. 

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

It can both confuse and irritate him depending on the situation at hand and for how long it’s been going on. 

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience? 

If they did manage to leave it would be when he finally finds them (and he will find them.) he will be a whirlwind of emotions that they will see him go through while chained up. 

Ideals: What is their plan for the future? 

He does want to share a life with them more than anything else in the world.  

 Jealousy: How jealous are they when it comes to their darling? 

When it comes to the other leaders (or anyone with a face.) He gets very jealous but with servants or helpers not too much. 

Knowledgeable: How much would they try to learn about their darling? 

He does learn things from what his darlings tell him or what he has heard from others. 

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling? 

He tries to spend as much time with them as possible. He will also tell them how much better his domain is than the others. (He will also sing and play his violin for them.) 

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else? 

Not really, he just acts the same as he usually does. 

Naughty: How would they punish their darling? 

The only real punishment he’ll give them is isolation other than that he can’t really do himself to harm them physically. 

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling? 

As long as all the rules are followed, they are free to do as they please only in his domain because they won’t really be allowed to go anywhere else. 

Patience: How patient are they with their darling? 

He has a lot more patience for his darling and he does for others. 

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on? 

Truth be told, escaping won’t last too long mainly because there are limited places to go and there’s a good chance, they will just hand them over depending on who his darling is. However, if they were to die, he wouldn’t think too much of it in the beginning. Yes, he would be hurt but he also believes they can easily just come back just like everyone else. However, when he finds out that they can’t he discovers new emotions that he has never felt before. He won’t really know how to deal with them. 

Regret: Would they feel guilty? Would they let go? 

As long as they don’t become afraid of him, he won’t really have any regrets. 

Stigma: What brought about this side of them? 

Given that the world they live in isn’t the greatest nor the safest it was created by the fact that not only does he love them, but he also wants to protect them and show that there is at least one kind of safe place around which is also how he will draw them in. 

Tears: How do they feel about their darling crying, screaming, and/or throwing a tantrum? 

If he was the one who caused their tears, he would feel absolutely terrible about it and try to make it up to them as best as he could but if it was someone else who made them cry, then the person would be in a world of hurt. 

Unique: Does anything make them different from the classic yandere? 

He technically isn’t as hard-core as others, making him pretty easy to handle, but they should still keep in mind that he is not a lightweight by any means. 

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape? 

Technically isn’t that hard to get away from him or to trick him but they’re still trapped in the world meaning that there are limited places where they can go plus there’s also a chance that whoever runs the place where they go will just hand them back over. 

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling? 

he would never hurt his darling; accidents could still happen and although they may not get hurt by his hands there is still a chance that they may get hurt in some way No matter how hard he may try to protect them. 

Xoanon: How much would they worship their darling? 

He is a lot sweeter than most but other than that there is no extreme worship happening. 

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap? 

Because he actually does manage to keep them close to him there are no rules snapping, at least in that kind of situation. 

Zeal: How passionate would they be? Would they be passionate enough to break their darling? 

Given that he isn’t too intense so he wouldn’t break with them. 

[idontthinkimokaymentally]

Hello there Mary Gowland fans.

[incorrectnokuninoalice]

Gowland [talking about Alice and Nightmare]: She did call him a dreamboat.

Boris: More like a nightmare-boat.

[rosemore]

Friendly cats. (hnkna valentine exchange).

So, here you go @malewifemammon you wanted Boris or Julius, so I decided to give you a bit of both! it's not romantic, just a bit of platonic tomfoolery, but I hope you enjoy anyway. (I hope all went well on the post this time - I'm unused to Tumblr and it's noticeable in the mistakes I'm making, lol).

Friendly cats.

Boris was by nature a friendly cat. Though he liked exploring the little known nooks and crannies of Wonderland and was a cat who was fine going his own way and in fact would have problems if anybody tried to hold him down in one place for too long, that didn't mean he was an introvert. There were many moments where he could build upon his friendly reputation, first and foremost during special (or not so special) occasions. 

He enjoyed the post work drink celebrations, or the new attraction festivities, or the old "attraction to be bulldozed" festivities. He enjoyed the charged atmosphere of the flickering lights and the cozy delirium which took one over when they had one too many drinks. He enjoyed bugging and fussing over people too.

All of this, naturally, didn't mean that other people were as much of a party animal as he was - but what Boris was also was somebody who enjoyed dragging others in situations they might not fully agree with. It was like chasing Pierce - Boris could do that forever, be satisfied with the evidence of his hunting prowess and with the feeling that the creepy mouse was pretty much helpless to resist him and he could do whatever he liked with him. 

Julius was another one of those who resigned themselves to situations they hated simply because they thought it was easier than making too much of a fuss about it. Besides, Boris had been easy on him when they'd met unexpectedly near the merry-go-round, and the man who wore too many layers had shot at Boris in his own playground.

 He could have done more than graze his cheek and his elbow with his bullets, even if the rule was "meet eachother periodically and fight" not "put your back into the fighting and take it seriously". That he hadn't obviously meant the grumpy hermit owed him entertainment. 

He was even kind enough to go get him bandages. "Hey, the doctor's office is around that corner. What do you mean 'you'll deal with it yourself?' Cmon, you don't want an infection, and it's not as if I don't need medical attention from your lucky shot either." 

And it had been a lucky shot - the bullet had pinged against a metal panel and bounced right back just when Boris had lifted his gun to start shooting back. Speckles of red rained from his hand. 

He couldn't say it wasn't unexpected to get injured during the fights that the game forced them into - meeting people when they were having a bad day automatically led to them taking the bad day out on whoever was their partner that moment - and Boris enjoyed really getting into his fights with people, and often picked them even outside of the requirements. 

That was the reason he didn't actually mind getting injured - it was just how much of a lucky shot Julius had managed to made his inner sadist stand up to attention. 

Though it might look like he was being kind, dragging the kicking and complaining deluxe clockmaker with him to be seen by one of the park's many first aid centers. (Because of course they had many, there were too many, for when their attractions derailed or went at a speed that damaged the human body. Everything was about thrill and excitement in their park, including the excitement of uncertain death or crippling). But that was just to bring Julius into a fake sense of safety. 

Boris planned to meet up with Gowland soon and with the two of them, he was sure they'd be able to pressure the man into going on one of their attractions free of charge, because they were just being "kind and thoughtful and you didn't want to spit on Gowland's hospitality, did you?" 

They'd get drinks and watch the fireworks afterwards, so long as the time period didn't move from being night and even if it did, then the fireworks would be replaced with some other kinds of festivities. The other roleholders could say one thing about the amusement park, but it wasn't that they didn't know how to party. 

Julius let out a heavy, heavy sigh, the type that involved his entire body, shoulders slumping, rocking forwards. No matter how much "no, stop, I'm not going to do that" or how authoritatively he tried to sound, Boris was one of those people who could really play deaf to the hilt and he was led into a cart for a rollercoaster. 

On one end Gowland was jabbering:  "This is one of my latest builds! Look at that streamlined, silver track which gleams in the light! Some people have complained that when the sun hits them just right they'd end up blinded, but it's dusk right now so that's not something you need to worry about-" while on his other side there was a cat muffling his snickering and meeting his eyes for a second with a mischievous light in their golden depths. 

Julius' injuries itched underneath the bandages the cat had cajoled him into, and he'd just wanted to get this meeting over with so he'd eventually accepted getting help with them. 

(Besides, it meant he didn't have to tie them at home, freeing him up for more efficient work. Besides, no blood in the delicate gears was always a plus - otherwise he'd probably not even do anything about them, just leave them open as a reprimand to himself about letting the Cheshire Cat get the best of him.) 

The cart tipped over the incline, speeding down the track as people let out excited screams, while Julius himself held onto the railing with a white knuckled fist. At least he was aware that Gowland wouldn't want to kill a "guest" or he'd be worried about going into any rollercoasters he and his freeloader suggested, even with their company. 

Boris was skillful at making sure he always landed on his feet, and Gowland's muscles probably meant he'd end up with less broken bones, compared to his own, which were far more fragile as somebody who didn't exactly eat right and spent most of his time indoors working on clocks.  

Despite how this was supposedly an apology for shooting him twice, this felt like a punishment for shooting the cat once. 

Boris tried to make up for it afterwards. "Come on, I'll show you all the best snack stalls. You like coffee… don't you? There is a cafe not very far away that does really good ones!"

Though the cat's tail had twitched in a way that showed he was hunting while they were going on the attractions, it was now simply confidently tracing the air while its owner moved through the crowds, looking back at Gowland and him now and then to assure himself they were following.

"You know, you might think he's bullying, but that's really how he shows his love," Gowland stated, amused at the wariness and confusion warring on Julius' face. 

He scoffed. Julius was aware of how people avoided him, and while he didn't take injuries from forced fights as personally as he could, that didn't mean he trusted friendly gestures more. 

But somehow, he had a feeling as Boris turned a toothy grin his way at the counter of the café, and asked for his favorite drink - now that the cat had him in his sights, and knew what a pushover he was, he wouldn't easily let him be. 

Fin.

[roskirambles]

Horror Movie of the day: The Phantom of the Opera (1925)

Beneath the floor of the Paris Opera, among torture chambers and forgotten graves, lives a lonely man. One in possession of the voice of an angel, but cursed with the face of a demon hidden behind a mask. And feeling the scorn of the world for the crime of existing, he decided to behave like one. That is, until his visits to the building above as the mysterious Phantom let him meet Christine Daaé; a woman he sees as a kindred spirit for whom he will conspire in her favor by weeding out the competition as her secret admirer, promising she will be the best opera singer to ever have lived. That is, until she finds herself unable to forget his childhood love Raoul... for which the Phantom will kidnap her. She will be his no matter the cost. Based on Gaston Leroux's novel of the same name, this silent cinema classic starring Lon Chaney as the Phantom is the foundation upon which Universal cemented what eventually became their monster series. While technically not the first one per se (that would be The Hunchback of Notre Dame in 1923), this is certainly their debut in the horror genre, and the result couldn't be more spectacular. Much as there's some trappings of the silent era like the reliance on pantomime, some instances of goofy slapstick and the inconsistent framerate, there's a lot of this movie a few months short of being a century old that still legitimately hold up: the framing, lighting, use of shadows, costume design and... well, Lon Chaney himself offering both a stellar performance and a makeup design that is still incredibly effective and source of reference for many an artist, selling the cadaveric look of the Phantom and the tortured soul underneath. It takes some notorious creative liberties, including a more explosive ending to the novel and (once again, annoyingly) reducing the agency of the heroine, but it's still the most faithful adaptation and in some ways still the best.

Seriously, much as I hyped Bela Lugosi yesterday, it can't be denied in some ways Lon Chaney is probably an even bigger legend. There's no mystery as to why he was the prime candidate for Universal's then upcoming take on Dracula, his ability to turn a melodramatic role into something equal parts commanding and haunting, on top of his unmatched skills as a makeup artist made him the obvious choice if it wasn't for his untimely death in 1930.

Which makes all the more annoying he wasn't satisfied with the end result of this movie, as the ending change wasn't of his liking given the original script had the more poetic resolution of the book intact. At the same time, the ending change is in and on itself a colossal can of worms because it wasn't even done in post when they were up to release the movie... but after they released it, brought it back after a tepid reception, and then re-edited it and added extra footage.

Add to that there's a sound re-release with even more added scenes that have sound on top of alternate prints of already existing footage and it's no wonder multiple versions of this movie exist... to different levels of preservation. It's kinda crazy.

On a last note while no adaptation of the novel is without caveats, I kind of like this movie for the very reason I'm... not the biggest fan of Andrew Lloyd Webber's take. And it's not even his fault as musical theater is a different can of worms, but the half mask trope just made the idea of the Phantom, well, sexier is maybe the word?

Practical as it may be in the context of allowing the performer shine, it sells the Phantom's harrowing appearance for which his own mother denied him touch as just this kind a hot Hollywood half face(specially since the play has ALWAYS had good looking leads) and it just dilutes the intensity of the Phantom's insecurities.

Can't deny the main song is a banger tho.

[dweemeister]

Movie Odyssey Retrospective

The Phantom of the Opera (1925)

By the time French journalist-turned-novelist Gaston Leroux published Le Fantôme de l'Opéra as a serial in 1909, he was best known for his detective fiction, deeply influenced by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Edgar Allan Poe. The Phantom of the Opera plays out like a Poe work – teeming with the macabre, painted with one character’s fanatic, violent lust. In serial form and, later, as a novel, Leroux’s work won praise across the West. One of the book’s many fans was Universal Pictures president Carl Laemmle who, on a 1922 trip to Paris, met with Leroux. While on the trip, he read Phantom (a copy gifted to him by Leroux) in a single night, and bought the film rights with a certain actor already in mind.

Laemmle’s first and only choice for the role of the Phantom was about to play Quasimodo in Universal’s 1923 adaptation of Victor Hugo’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame. That actor, Lon Chaney, had subsisted on bit roles and background parts since entering into a contract with Universal in 1912. Chaney, who was about to sign a contract with Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM), became an instant sensation the moment The Hunchback of Notre Dame hit theaters. Audiences and critics in the early 1920s were simultaneously horrified at the sight of his Quasimodo yet, crucially, felt a profound empathy towards the character.

In his prior films, as well as Hunchback, Chaney separated himself from his fellow bit actors with a skill that almost no other actor in Hollywood possessed: he was also a makeup artist. At this time, actors applied their own makeup – often simple cosmetics or unconvincing facial hair. None of the major Hollywood studios had makeup departments in the early 1920s, and it would not be until the 1940s that each studio had such a department. Chaney, the son of two deaf and mute adults, was also a master of physical acting, and could expertly use his hands and arms to empower a scene. Though already bound for MGM, Chaney could not possibly pass up the role of Erik, the Phantom. Despite frequent clashes with director Rupert Julian (1923’s Merry-Go-Round and 1930’s The Cat Creeps; despite being Universal’s most acclaimed director at this time, Julian was either sacked or walked away mid-production), Chaney’s performance alone earned him his place in cinematic history and, for this film, an iconic work of horror cinema and silent film.

As the film begins, we find ourselves at the Palais Garnier, home of the Paris Opera. The Opera’s management has resigned, turning over the Palais Garnier to new ownership. As the ink dries on the contract and as the previous owners depart, they warn about a Phantom of the Opera, who likes sitting in one of the box seats. Soon after, prima donna Carlotta (Virginia Pearson) receives a threatening letter from the Phantom. She must step aside and allow a chorus girl, Christine Daaé (Mary Philbin), sing the lead role in Charles Gounod’s Faust. If she refuses to comply, the Phantom promises something horrific. Aware of the letter, Christine the next day confers with her loved one, the Vicomte Raoul de Chagny (Norman Kerry), that she has been receiving musical guidance from a “Spirit of Music”, whom she has heard through the walls of her dressing room. Raoul laughs this off, but a series of murderous incidents at that evening’s production of Faust is no laughing matter. Christine eventually meets the shadowy musical genius of the Phantom, whose name is Erik (Chaney). In his subterranean lair, he professes his love to her – a love that will never die.

Rupert Julian’s The Phantom of the Opera also stars Arthur Edmund Carewe as the Inspector Ledoux (for fans of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical version, this is the Madame Giry character); Gibson Gowland as Simon Buquet; and John St. Polis as Raoul’s brother, the Comte Philippe de Chagny.

Before extoling this film, one has to single out Mary Philbin and Norman Kerry as the glaring underperformers in this adaptation. Philbin would become a much better actress than she displays here, if The Man Who Laughs (1928) is any indication. Yet, Philbin’s Christine is a blank slate, devoid of much personality and interest. It also does not help that Norman Kerry plays Raoul in a similar fashion. Raoul, in any adaptation of Phantom, tends to be a boring role. But goodness me, for a B-actor who was acclaimed for his tall, dark, and handsome looks and screen persona, he is a charisma vacuum here. During Kerry’s more intimate scenes with Philbin, you may notice that Kerry has a case of “roving hands” when he gets close with Philbin. Philbin, who could not visibly react to these moments on-camera, surreptitiously took Kerry’s hands and held them there to stop the touching.

Philbin is much better when sharing the screen opposite Chaney. Chaney and Philbin both could not stand director Rupert Julian – whom both actors, as well almost all of the crew, regarded as an imposing fraud who knew little about making art and more about how to cut costs (Laemmle appointed Julian for this film in part due to Julian’s reputation for delivering work under budget). There are unconfirmed accounts that after Julian’s departure or removal from Phantom, Chaney himself directed the remainder of the shoot aside from the final climactic chase scene (which was the uncredited Edward Sedgwick’s responsibility). In any case, Philbin’s terror when around Chaney was real. The sets of the Phantom’s lair reportedly spooked her – the subterranean waterways, his inner sanctum. Philbin also received no preparation before the filming of what is now one of the signature moments of the silent film era and all of horror cinema. Her reaction to Lon Chaney’s self-applied makeup – meant to appear half-skin, half-skeletal – was the first time that she saw Chaney’s Phantom in all his gruesomeness. Philbin, freed of the innocent, pedestrian dialogue of the film’s opening act, gifts to the camera one hell of a reaction, fully fitting within the bounds of silent film horror.

There are conflicting records on how Chaney achieved the Phantom’s final appearance. The descriptions forthcoming are the elements that freely-available scholarship generally accepts as true. It appears that Chaney utilized a skull cap to raise his forehead’s height, as well as marking deep pencil lines onto that cap to accentuate wrinkles and his brow. He also raised his cheekbones by stuffing cotton into his cheeks, as well as placing a set of stylized, decaying dentures. Inner-nasal wiring altered the angle of his nose, and white highlights across his face contributed to his skeletal look for the cameras. Cinematographer Charles Van Enger (1920's The Last of the Mohicans, uncredited on 1925's The Big Parade) – who, other than Chaney, was one of the most familiar onset with Chaney’s makeup – claimed that the nasal wiring sometimes led to significant bleeding. Taking inspiration from Chaney’s approach to keeping the makeup artistry hidden from Philbin and others, Universal kept the Phantom’s true appearance a secret from the public and press. The studio advised movie theaters to keep smelling salts ready, in case of audience members fainting during the unmasking scene. According to popular reporting at the time, audience members did scream and faint upon the reveal; a nine-year-old Gregory Peck’s first movie memory was being so terrified of Lon Chaney’s Phantom, that he asked to sleep with his grandmother that evening after he came home.

Lon Chaney’s tremendous performance allows The Phantom of the Opera to soar. Arguably, it is his career pinnacle. Masked or unmasked, Chaney’s Phantom dominates the frame at any moment he is onscreen aside from the film’s final chase sequence. Whether glowering over Christine, majestically gesturing in silhouette, strutting down the Opera House steps during the Bal Masqué, or tucked into the corner of the frame, Chaney’s physical presence draws the audience’s eyes to whatever he is doing. The differences in posture from before and after the unmasking scene are striking – from an elegant specter to a broken, hunched figure (appearing to draw some inspiration from his experience playing Quasimodo two years earlier) seething with pent-up carnality, rage, and sorrow. Chaney’s Phantom garners the audience’s sympathy when he gives Christine the grand tour of his chambers. Look at his posture and hands when he mentions, “That is where I sleep,” and, “If I am the Phantom, it is because man’s hatred has made me so.”  That Chaney can ease through these transitions and transformations – as well as a third transformation, as the Red Death during the Bal Masqué – so naturally, without a misstep, is a testament to his acting ability.

Underneath the tortured and twisted visage of a man who has committed horrific acts is a vulnerable and misguided human being. His dreams, dashed and discarded by all others, have turned to despicable means. The role of the Phantom plays brilliantly to Chaney’s genius: to have audiences sympathize with even the most despicable or despondent characters he played. Chaney accomplishes this despite this film characterizing the Phantom with less sympathy than Leroux’s original novel and the popular Andrew Lloyd Webber musical.

This is already on top of Charles Van Enger’s camerawork; the sharp editing from a team including Edward Curtiss (1932’s Scarface) Maurice Pivar (1923’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame), Gilmore Walker (1927’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin), and Lois Weber.

Weber, who in 1916 was Universal’s highest-paid director, underwent numerous financial difficulties over that decade. One of Hollywood’s first true auteurs and largely ignored in the history of film until recently, Weber formed her own production company with Universal’s assistance in 1917, off the success of Shoes (1916). Through World War I, Weber’s movies were popular until around the turn of the decade, when her “didactic” filmmaking (a result of her devout Christian upbringing) went out of style. Most visibly among Weber’s financial failures of the early 1920s, The Blot (1921) – a movie that scholars and Weber himself considered her best – flopped in theaters. After two hiatuses from filmmaking in the early 1920s, Weber was brought in to conduct the final bits of editing on The Phantom of the Opera before returning to directing under Universal.

Though none of the film’s production designers were yet to hit their peak, The Phantom of the Opera benefitted from having a soon-to-be all-star art department including James Basevi (1944’s The Song of Bernadette), Cedric Gibbons (almost any and all MGM movies from 1925 onward), and Robert Florey (1932’s Murders in the Rue Morgue). Inspired by designs sketched by French art director Ben Carré, the production design trio spared no expense to bring Carré’s illustrations to life and used the entirety of Universal’s Soundstage 28 to construct all necessary interior sets. The set’s five tiers of seating and vast foyer needed to support several hundred extras. So unlike the customary wooden supports commonplace during the silent era for gargantuan sets, The Phantom of the Opera’s set for the Palais Garnier became the first film set ever to use steel supports planted into concrete. Basevi, Gibbons, and Florey’s work is glorious, with no special effects to supplement the visuals. The seventeen-minute Bal Masqué scene – which was shot in gorgeous two-strip Technicolor (the earliest form of Technicolor, which emphasized greens and reds) – is the most striking of all, unfurling its gaudy magnificence to heights rarely seen in cinema.

Universal’s Soundstage 28 was an integral part of the VIP tour at Universal Studios Hollywood for decades. Though the orchestra seats and the stage of the film’s Palais Garnier had long gone, the backside box seats of the auditorium remained. Stage 28 featured in numerous films after The Phantom of the Opera, including Dracula (1931), the Lon Chaney biopic Man of a Thousand Faces (1957), Psycho (1960), Charade (1963), Jurassic Park (1993), How the Grinch Stole Christmas (2000), and The Muppets (2011). The soundstage was also supposedly haunted, with individuals claiming to see a caped figure (Lon Chaney as the Phantom?) running around the catwalks, lights flickering on and off, and doors opening and closing on their own. In 2014, after standing for almost ninety years, Universal decided to demolish Stage 28 so as to expand its theme park. However, the historic set escaped the wrecking ball, as Universal decided to disassemble the set, place it into storage, and perhaps someday reassemble it. It is a fate far kinder than almost all other production design relics from the silent era.

Unlike what was coming out of Weimar Germany in the 1920s in the form of German Expressionism, American horror films had no template to follow when The Phantom of the Opera arrived in theaters. There would be no codification of American horror cinema’s tropes and sense of timing until the next decade. But without 1925’s The Phantom of the Opera, Universal would never become the house of horror it did in the 1930s through the early ‘50s (including the Dracula, Frankenstein, Mummy, Invisible Man, Wolf Man, and Creature from the Black Lagoon series). So, unbound by any unwritten guidelines, 1925’s The Phantom of the Opera – a horror film, but arguably also a melodrama with elements of horror – consumes the viewer with its chilling atmosphere and, from Lon Chaney, one of the best cinematic performances ever, without any qualification. For silent film novices, this is one of the best films to begin with (outside the comedies of Charlie Chaplin, Buster Keaton, and Harold Lloyd). Regardless of one’s familiarity with silent film, The Phantom of the Opera is a cinematic milestone.

My rating: 9.5/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog. Half-points are always rounded down.

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.

This is the twenty-third Movie Odyssey Retrospective. Movie Odyssey Retrospectives are reviews on films I had seen in their entirety before this blog’s creation or films I failed to give a full-length write-up to following the blog’s creation. Previous Retrospectives include Dracula (1931 English-language version), Oliver! (1968), and Peter Pan (1953).

[lizzy-bonnet]

Austenian Dads

A recent post about mothers-in-law by @bethanydelleman had me thinking about the dads in Jane Austen. We get a lot of discourse about mothers and mother figures, who have big, important roles in the stores, but her depictions of fatherhood are interesting too. Here, in my opinion, are the dads and dad-like figures in her novels, ranked from best to worst.

(note: I've left out deceased and barely-there dads, but I will note that Mr. Dashwood's attempt to look out for his daughters, and the amount of grief occasioned by his death, indicate that he is a Top Dad.)

Mr. Musgrove - Notwithstanding "poor Richard", Mr. Musgrove has three reasonably well-adjusted adult children, seems to love his younger children, and goes to his daughter's bedside when she is injured. His children all make Sensible Matches, and he likes kids enough to permit the little Harvilles to be brought back to Uppercross to increase its noise. He folds my beloved Anne into his family and treats her affectionately whenever she is with them. By the standards of the day, he seems pretty solid. 8/10 Least Bad Dad.

Sir John Middleton - Like Mr. Musgrove, Sir John is a people person. His immediate and unreserved adoption of the Dashwoods in their hour of need tells us that he is an unambiguously good-hearted person, which usually leads to loving parenting. His kids are young so we don't see him interacting much with them, but his desire to give everyone a nice time bodes well. He doesn't notice when his teasing goes to far. 7/10 definitely tells the same dad joke over and over.

Mr. Bennet - As a reader I love him because he's pithy, but he's honestly not a great dad, and is not modeling a happy marriage for his daughters. He shows favouritism to Lizzy, lets Lydia run wild, is hurtful towards Mary and Kitty, and fails to save up any money to bribe worthless young men to marry his daughters. 5/10 for putting all his eggs in the "having a son" basket and then doing nothing when the handle on the basket breaks.

Lt. Price - Loud, embarrassing, shiftless. Ignores his daughters but seems to maybe do OK with his sons? 3.5/10, tops.

Sir Walter Elliot - This fucking guy, am I right? He's vain, he's self-obsessed, he's a spendthrift, and he's a dreadful parent. His eldest daughter is his favourite and he basically forgets Anne and Mary exist when they're not directly in front of him (and sometimes doesn't notice them even when they are). His favouritism has damaged Anne and Mary in different ways to Mr. Bennet's to his younger daughters, but the source is the same: he has one child who is like him and others that he doesn't click with, so he basically lets them shift for themselves. In the Elliot household I'm certain this means that sensitive Anne was left to grieve her mother without any comfort from her father. It's no wonder she was ready to marry the first loving man she saw. When he sees her looking well, he thinks it's down to her skin care regimen. 3/10 merely Gowland's.

Sir Thomas Bertram - Poor Fanny, her father figures are both the pits. Sir Thomas knows absolutely zero about what any of his kids are like and can't see how bad Aunt Norris's influence is on all of them. He swings wildly between neglectful and overbearing, and then tries to pressure Fanny into marrying Henry Crawford despite his attentions making her visibly miserable. He also knows perfectly well that Fanny is shy, and yet does not give her any warning that he's throwing a ball for her coming out, plus he sends her home to Portsmouth as a sort of weirdo punishment to make her see what she's missing by not marrying Henry. 2/10 points and he really only gets these for 1. offering to free Maria from her engagement and 2. getting a fire in Fanny's grate, even if he left it until WAY too late to do her much good.

General Tilney - the closest Austen gives us to a villainous parent. The General is dictatorial to his children, oppressive around the house and occasionally creepy towards Catherine. This is made apparent by the fact that the Abbey suddenly becomes much more fun when he goes off to London. He shows himself the ultimate Bad Dad by tossing his daughter's friend out of the house without explanation and hardly the resources to get herself home. 0/10 Gothic Tyrant Dad.

[banderskrad]

i forgorttttenned ab him

[midnightlee25]

can you say some more about yandere gowland?

Random Yandere Headcanons: Character Headcanons: Mary Gowland

He can be a very soft and sweet yandere or a very strict and cold yandere. It all depends on his darling. 

However, getting him to that point where he is mean to his darling does take a long time to do. 

He brightens whenever his darling comes to visit his domain but when they leave, he becomes quite gloomy until the next time they visit. 

If they stay with Julius, then he will try everything in his power to get them to come stay with him. 

 He will play them songs that he wrote himself not very well but he tries his best to serenade them. 

When his darling does visit his home no one is allowed to disturb their time together. No one or else they will face a fate worse than death. 

[thewarmestplacetohide]

Dread by the Decade: The Phantom of the Opera

👻 You can support me on Ko-fi ❤️

★★★★½

Plot: An ominous figure haunts an opera house, setting his sights on a young understudy.

Review: This film is one of the most iconic of the 1920s for good reason. It's a deeply sad, twisting tale with exceptional technical execution.

Source Material: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra by Gaston Leroux Year: 1925 Genre: Gothic, Psychological Horror Country: United States Language: Silent Runtime: 1 hour 33 minutes

Director: Rupert Julian Writers: Gaston Leroux, Walter Anthony, Elliot J. Clawson Cinematographer: Charles Van Enger Cast: Lon Chaney, Mary Philbin, Normany Kerry, Arthur Edmund Carewe, Gibson Gowland

-----

Story: 4.5/5 - A great adaptation, brimming with the horror, mystery, and tragedy of its source material. Hampered only by some ableism.

Performances: 4.5/5 - Chaney steals the show as the malevolent yet tragic Phantom, and the rest of the cast supports him well.

Cinematography: 5/5 - Beautiful shot compositions and lighting.

Editing: 4/5

Music: 4.5/5 - Haunting. The operatic tracks are particularly good.

Effects: 3.5/5 - Not equal to some of its contemporaries, but still solid. The chandelier fall and flooding are good.

Sets: 4.5/5 - Creative and well-dressed. The Phantom's lair with its water canals is gorgeous.

Costumes, Hair, & Make-Up: 5/5 - Fantastic even by today's standards. Simply iconic.

Trigger Warnings:

Misogyny (uncritical)

Abuse

Ableism (uncritical)

[kaedeichinose]

i think mary gowland and vivaldi both mightve gotten nuked from the no kuni no alice remakes which is expected but also a firm display of cowardice

[granma-sweetie]

pt 2.

now i shall tell you about the Beef between roleholders

blood and vivaldi are siblings. sorta? depending on the version, blood is an outsider who got trapped in the universe and his missing his Real Sister maybe made vivaldi exist? i think? until they both became role holders. but maybe im wrong becuase im saying everything from memory

they pretend to hate each other basically

next!

ace and elliot dont hate each other but elliot finds ace annoying. theres more to this though

peter hates everyone except alice and sometimes vivaldi. nuff said

elliot HATES julius and julius isnt too fond of elliot either. elliot smashed his best friend’s clock when he died so no one could replace him. he got arrested by julius since that is the One Crime and locked away until im pretty sure blood broke him out. the thing is. he was arrested by ace, but he doesnt know that. ace was disguised. so elliot could hate ace a lot more

next um. gowland and blood. gowlands first name is mary. like merry go round. he hates this and blood makes fun of it and gowland is just a tired middle aged man and cant suck it up. they want to kill eachother

um. what else. idk i think thats it

tldr: i like hnkna

idnot know how to respond but i had fun reading this ^-^ you can infodump more about it to me if you want

[twittercomfrnklin2001-blog]

The Phantom of the Opera

How many monsters are there supposed to be in Rupert Julian et al’s THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA (1925, TCM, Tubi, Plex, YouTube)? In its time, it was viewed as another in a series of films casting Lon Chaney as sympathetic horrors. His famous makeup for the film and the number of victims he claims (though the chandelier sequence goes light on the battered bodies) would point to him as the monster. But from a contemporary viewpoint Christine (Mary Philbin), for all her physical beauty, is pretty horrible in her own right. She has no problem accepting Chaney’s help with her career, rejects a wealthy suitor (Norman Kerry) who wants her to retire and goes off with the Phantom after he’s dropped a chandelier on the audience to protest her not performing in FAUST that night. But after the unmasking, she not only wants nothing to do with him but goes back on her word to stop seeing the blandly handsome Kerry. She may not kill people, but she’s something of a soul killer. When Chaney orders her to “Feast your eyes! Glut your soul on my accursed ugliness!” he might as well be holding up a mirror.

Universal’s adaptation of the Gaston Leroux novel is something of a mixed bag. Whenever Chaney’s off-screen it drags, and some of the performances bear out the stereotypes about silent film acting. Much of Chaney’s pantomime, however, is exquisite, and the underground scenes as he takes Philbin to his hidden quarters beneath the Paris Opera have an eerie poetry. Part of the problem is Julian, whose main claim to fame was stepping in to replace Erich Von Stroheim after the master director was fired from MERRY-GO-ROUND (1923). Until the final chase scenes, his cutting is almost lethargic, and most of his compositions seem static. One minor triumph, whether it's his work or just casting, is the contrast between the Paris Opera’s star (Virginia Pearson), who’s fleshy and grandiose as Marguerite, and Philbin, who plays the role with a disarming simplicity. Philbin is rather good overall, as is Arthur Edmund Carewe as a mystery man skulking around the opera house and Gibson Gowland (later the star of GREED) as a stagehand whose brother the Phantom murders. And whatever else you may think of the film, the production values, particularly the marvelous opera house set and the masked ball shot in two-strip Technicolor, are pretty darned impressive.