#Representaion

[a-little-revolution]

Representation matters because visual media is the fastest way to influence public thought, propaganda is effective, and fear tactics work to impact political movements and civil rights ✌️

[lawbreaker13]

I may be ten years late to this take but Schmidt is sincerely the best Jewish representation anywhere in the media

[thevisibilityarchives]

Melancholia (2011),  Lars von Trier

Disabled

Summary: On the night of her ill-fated wedding, Justine witnesses a celestial object named Melancholia which engages in an approach with Earth for a fatalistic dance of death that sparks apathy in the severely depressed Justine, and triggers anxiety in her sister Claire, who seeks any escape from the impending disaster.

Full review: Celebrated and reviled, film director Lars von Trier can be credited among those showcasing mental illness most provocatively onscreen in the last three decades: in part because many of his films stem from his own experiences. They are real and raw interpretations of the suffering of the mind, delving into the innermost pain evoked by previously (and sometimes still) dismissed conditions buried within the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-V). 

While mental health culture has moved into a state of acceptance not seen in previous generations, conversations about illnesses like Bipolar Disorder, Schizophrenia, BPD, and numerous others still leave plenty to be desired in terms of empathetic let alone realistic representation. Cancel culture has crucified celebrities for the use of terms now deemed slurs such as spaz and schizo. Yet in everyday vernacular, describing the weather as bipolar or making light of Tourette’s tics remains commonplace. 

Released in 2011, Melancholia was the second in a trio of films dubbed Von Trier’s “Depression Trilogy”, accompanied by Antichrist (2009) and Nymphomaniac (2013). On a personal note, I’ll make a outright commentary and offer no pretense about my complicated feelings about Von Trier. 

The Danish director’s films are steeped in a degree of whiteness that doesn’t necessarily reflect its reality, and Von Trier himself has been the subject of controversy for off-color remarks interpreted as pro-Nazi. The comments have since been explained as a mixture of poor judgment, nervousness, and Von Trier’s particular dark sense of humor combined with the press and Europe’s general overreaction to any whiff of pro-fascist sentiment, yet while the director may not support white supremacy, he inarguably centers the white body in his films. 

Denmark itself is by no means a melting pot, however, statistics found here show a number of immigrants from Middle Eastern countries (which themselves feature a rich tapestry of white, brown, and black bodies). As Von Trier films all of his work in mainland Europe due to his own fear of flying, the whiteness depicted onscreen is an intentional choice, one clearly rooted in how he prefers the world rather than how it actually exists. 

On the other hand, as someone who has suffered from severe depression, some of his past work resonates with me in a profound way. Melancholia can be considered the Magnum Opus of these films, a resolute portrait of manic depression at the end of the world and the way it manifests as two planets collide both literally, and figuratively in the form of two sisters. 

As the film opens, Justine, portrayed by Kirsten Dunst, arrives late to her wedding dinner much to the frustration of her sister Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg). The tardiness is initially portrayed as the result of jubilant celebration between Justine and her husband Michael (Alexander Skarsgård) who float in with a measure of endearing happiness, their bliss a formidable match of Claire’s administrative fury. 

Over the course of the dinner, however, it becomes clear that something is amiss in Justine’s world. Cracks appear, dull grey ick seeping into the verdant green overtones of the picturesque scenery where the luxurious celebration takes place. The tardiness gives way to hesitation. The hesitation gives way to doubt. Doubt shows itself to be symptomatic of Justine’s underlying depression, ever-present and poorly contained. “Are you sure you want this?” Claire asks. Justine, half-heartedly assures her that she does. 

By the end of the evening, Michael is gone. 

It’s a chaotic affair, a breakdown of events sure to make little sense to those unaffiliated with symptoms of manic depression. In a sheer matter of hours, Justine manages to blow her life up in such an astounding way that is frankly admirable. Her husband is gone, her job is gone, and the wedding costing thousands of dollars has been rendered worthless. The greatest consolation she has appears as a celestial object in the night sky, a blinking star that doesn’t quite belong signifying that perhaps there is some meaning to Justine’s actions, a cosmic sign that with her relationship’s end, comes the beginning of something else. 

Part two of the film focuses on Claire and the aftermath of Justine’s actions. Melancholia, both Justine’s mental state and the name of the celestial object she spotted in the night sky appear as a rogue planet destined to make a fly-by past Earth. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime event, arcing around the planet and inducing a proper amount of panic in anyone with access to the internet. 

Serving as Justine’s caretaker, Claire now has the task of doing everything from physically bathing to spoon feeding her sister who has become infirm for all intents and purposes. Severe depression, for the uninitiated, is nothing like the Ben & Jerry’s shoveling sessions depicted on television sitcoms. It can be deep and abiding, lasting for months at a time. 

Numb and lifeless, slowly but surely Justine seems to gain strength as Melancholia makes its way closer to Earth, gathering speed for what will inevitably be apocalyptic destruction. As she finds peace in the absoluteness of the demise of all living things, Claire, who has been the one constant herself begins to come apart. Where Justine is solid, Claire begins to panic. Just as Melancholia and Earth engage in their dynamic dance, Claire and Justine, these two opposite forces, gravitate to and fro until there is nothing left.

The film is a true measure of the nightmare of living with severe depression for those in it, and those around you, a disease so debilitating it becomes disabling and to this degree can often be overlooked until suicide takes its place. For his many faults, it is at its core an emotion Von Trier portrays well because he knows and feels it well, a blank and haunting admission made over the course of the film. 

If you or a loved one is suffering from suicidal ideation, you can dial 988 (formerly the National Suicide Prevention Hotline). 

Melancholia can currently be streamed on Magnolia Selects or HBO Max. You can find hard copies of the film for sale, and also borrow them and potentially borrow digital copies at your local library. 

You can find my new Rotten Tomatoes profile, specifically for snippet film and TV reviews linked here.

Citations:

https://www.theguardian.com/film/2011/may/18/lars-von-trier-cannes-2011-nazi-comments

https://www.statista.com/statistics/571909/number-of-immigrants-in-denmark-by-country-of-origin/

https://www.magnoliaselects.com/dQrB4Z

https://play.hbomax.com/page/urn:hbo:page:GYVLQ2wCF_6TDXgEAAACc:type:feature

https://www.rottentomatoes.com/user/id/Google_104297383807596184966/ratings

[hilacopter]

hey remember that time social justice activists boycotted a film company into erasing jewish representation from their movie

[librariansrose]

I think it’s fine to have headcanons for your favorite ships but if the dev themselves made a statement about their own characters sexuality/orientation then you shouldn’t make jokes about disrespecting that canon.

As someone who is an Unlabeled person, I’m really grateful that Teruko Tawaki is also unlabeled and sports that flag. It’s representation that I’m grateful for because unlabeled characters aren’t very well known in media at all.

My point is. Please don’t bash canon representation because you don’t agree with it. They aren’t your characters.

It’s fine to have your own headcanons, takes, what have you but at the end of the day. Canon is canon.

I get annoyed too when people conveniently erase the fact that David is Bi but not open with his feelings about that fact. That is incredible representation because growing up it is how I felt about my relationship with labels since I didn’t understand my feelings.

DRDT is aimed at an older crowd that’s on the cusp of when LGBTQIA+ wasn’t widely accepted or even legal like it is now.

So representations like Nico being closet NB, David being a repressed and conflicted bisexual man as well as Teruko choosing to be explicitly unlabeled is incredibly important representation that shouldn’t be ignored or overwritten just because you don’t agree with the creators narrative.

My point isn’t to pick a fight with anyone, mind you. I am genuinely just asking you to consider why Dev has written their characters in the way that they have and that it should be respected.

[sophsun1]

"The fate of Moya's true Pilot was sealed at that moment. So you see, Aeryn - it wasn't really you who caused her death. It was - me. If I hadn't agreed to come, Velorek may never have found a replacement Pilot."

FARSCAPE

2.05 The Way We Weren't

[dearest-and-nearest]

Self-definition and representation should not be through skin color and the number of scars under the knee, but through the ability to make decisions, to say words that are close to you. Mastectomy scars don't mean anything if your protagonist will be good without alternative and make equally good decisions, and the only thing you can influence is the tone with which they make these decisions. Goodness has no meaning without choice. Supporting mages, elves and other very suffering minorities doesn't make sense if you don't have a choice not to support them, if you can't slaughter a Dalish clan or massacre a Circle. “Found family” of companions makes no sense if you can't ruin that family, mutilate their lives, and condemn them to death, because the non-alternative good is nothing more than coercion that causes nothing but annoyance.

The only representation comes through choices and actions, not through the ability to create a sim - oops sorry, Rook - who looks just like you. Though they will decide everything by themselves, help people themselves and support whoever the developers want, but hey, they could cut off their breasts in the Middle Ages, because that is the whole core of a person. In external attributes, in scars and which of the 20 eyelash options suits them.

[readingforaneternity]

One of my favorite complaints that *those* white readers, movie, and tv watchers have is that there is too much represnetation in media now. That they don’t see themselves in media anymore, and therefore cannot relate.

(Which is such a load bc white ppl have literally created a system where it’s just them, them, them. You can find a full white casted movie, tv show, and book much easier than you can with marginalized group rep. At least rep that is truthful to our lives and not romanticized and dramatized to spare white feelings.)

And this complaint is so funny to me as if I, a black girl in america, didn’t grow up watching and reading white stories over and over again. Stories I didn’t relate to or see myself in.

Now that’s not to say there wasn’t any representation. Of course there were the token poc characters that got three lines if they were lucky. And those token poc characters were written only to help the main white characters realize that the world isn’t as it seems. And “yes Jennifer, my skin color does in fact affect the way people perceive and treat me. Even you!”

The point isn’t about relatability. It is about the lesson. That’s what stories are. But with actually casting, hiring writers, directors, and producers who are from marginalized groups the lessons become life and it makes it real.

[daisytarget]

This is a lookbook / illustrated guide to @42donotpanic's amazing fic titled "Not Just a Mask" in which Clint and Bucky, two disabled queer men, meet during / following the pandemic through online dating and explore themes of intimacy, vulnerability, and accommodation as they grow closer.

The fic was created as part of the 2024 @winterhawkbigbang as was this lookbook. I had so much fun working with Panic and my fellow artists, whose works are linked on the ao3 page for the fic (AND ARE INCREDIBLE OH MY GODDD)! This lookbook was created using Canva and uses image descriptions. The playlist mentioned on slide #13 can be found on Spotify below!

[whispersofmoon]

ROMANTIC LOVE.

A STRANGE THING, TO ME. THOUGH IT CAN BE.

A

USEFUL

TOOL.

[otaku-babu-vibes]

why isn't it OK to call a bi character, gay? like, you gotta be a little gay to be bi... I've even see that lesbian was added to not calling them gay... it doesn't make sense to me

[sadistic-softie]

I have a lot of fun making themed playlists that I slowly add to over time. I Have this little set of playlists that are all instrumental pieces under the concept/hypothetical theme of "What if I was a datable character in a dating sim game?" and I kind of think it would be cool if I found other people with a playlist or a few themed like that. I like diving into peoples minds musically.

(Sorry the playlists are short. I promise they usually grow with time...)

If someone sees this and is somehow inspired to make their own I would love to see it listen to it.

[brieflyinfatuated]

Nice to see some poly relationship rep in Half Bad: The Bastard Son & The Devil Himself. wholesome. (also what a great name for a show! They really excelled here today)

[mormonbooks]

Ariana: The Making of a Queen

The first book in the Ariana Trilogy by Rachel Ann Nunes

Mormon Representation Level - 2.7 Stars

Summary - This is the story of a young woman named Ariana (Ari) who lives in Paris in the 1990s. At the start of the story, she has lost her brother, been pushed away from her parents, and fallen in with a party crowd. She gets married and has a child, but her marriage is full of ups and downs, and eventually ends after a tragedy. Then, she meets the LDS missionaries, learns about families being sealed, and starts to find new purpose in life - her faith holds her up as she makes friends, gets a degree, and works to reconcile old wounds. She also discovers new love, and hopes for an Eternal family one day.

Spoilers under the cut

1. Well written - 3 stars The prose and dialog feel like they would fit a more old fashioned story. It wasn't until I finished the first chapter and saw a mention of a TV that I realized it was in the 1990s, not the 1890s. Eventually I got used to it, but it never really felt as modern as it was supposed to be.

I'm not normally one to get hung up on plot pacing and structure, but it was all over the place in this book. I felt like Ari's life moved far too quickly from one moment to the next, and like I never really got to know any of the characters. What we do see of them is pretty flat. When we do see a character arc, they're all pretty much the same (sinner -> member of the church)

2. Fun level - 3 stars I enjoyed parts of it. I will admit that I was touched/felt the spirit at moments in the story and I was fully invested during some of the turmoil that characters went through. If you want to read a kinda cheesy story about a girl joining the church, discovering the power of forgiveness, and turning her life around, I wouldn't turn you away from this book.

3. Complex faith - 1.5 stars It's DEFINITELY a propaganda book. You can tell the author was trying to include lots of trials and doubts and questions, but they all show up in the same way they would in a conference talk. They get resolved quickly and rather miraculously, through sharing the gospel and turning to God. It doesn't make space for nuance, or living in doubt, or choosing a different path. The narrative is definitely saying "join the church and be faithful and your life will always be better."

The most poignant moments are when Ariana works to forgive people who have deeply hurt her. I will say the "spiritual" highlight of this novel is it's focus on the power of the atonement to forgive yourself and people who you thought you'd never forgive. It doesn't say you have to let people back into your life (Ari goes to see her ex in prison to tell him that she forgave him and tell him about the church, but doesn't really stay in touch with him after that or anything) but it emphasizes the power and healing that forgiveness can bring people on all sides. Even this feels a little over simplified, but you can tell the author is trying to show the complexity of it.

4. Homophobia scale - 2.5 Stars It never mentions queer people at all, but the amatonormativity is real. Basically every single character gets straight married eventually. Hard to headcanon anyone as queer.

5. Mormon weird - 3.5 stars It was very much realistic fiction throughout, and although a lot of the religious stuff could reasonably be swapped to other Christian faiths, there was some stuff that was uniquely Mormon. It was fun for me to read about missionaries, and callings, and giving talks in church, and the Book of Mormon, and a ton of other stuff that is just normal life for Mormons that I never see in fiction.

The most unique moment occurred at the end of the book, when Ari and her new husband are sitting in the Celestial room, and they look over and see Antoine and Nette (who are both dead) sitting in the room with them. People in the LDS church talk about seeing dead loved ones/ancestors in the temple often, but it's definitely not something I've ever read in a novel before.

6. Diversity of characters - 3.5 Stars They live in France, and I do not so idk if that will affect my judgement. There are a lot of blonde characters. I think that Monique might not be white, given the description of her and her child's hair? But I don't know. As mentioned before, no queer people either. However, the main character is a woman and most of the characters who help her, support her, and drive the plot forward, are also women.

7. Other problematic stuff - 2 Stars It really feels to me like the author doesn't know anything about drugs, or what people who do drugs are like. Everything before Ari joins the church feels like a cardboard caricature of a stereotype (I put this redundancy on purpose). That being said, I also don't know that much about drugs, so I can't properly judge, but it all just feels really hollow.

It also feels like the author doesn't understand the reasons why people might have issues with the church, or the reality that not everyone you recommend to the missionaries will join. There are just far too many coincidences for me. Far too many people who listen to one heartfelt speech from Ari and willingly accept the Book of Mormon, and 2 pages later they're getting baptized. That's not what happens, and I don't think it's what should happen.

Conclusion: It's not a BAD book. But I wouldn't really call it a good book either. If you're looking for a comfy churchy book that will make you feel good about being a member, this is for you. If you want a book that feels relevant and real, or a book that non-members could read to get a good idea of who we are -- that's not this book.

[twentiethbeef]

I'm the model in this photo! I was wearing was wearing the Nozomi sweater that recently came out in it.

Brought the huge ace flag out over the weekend.

[stagefoureddiediaz]

I'm having a lot of thoughts and feelings about Eddie and clothing and being in the closet.

Because Eddie being shirtless is a thing - a thing that happens when he's in a spiral - and its always been a thing - right from his introduction. (and it kind of ties in with the black singlet - emotional vulnerability thing he has going on too)

Eddies introduction - him putting on a shirt - going from shirtless - to clothed - Eddie has upped his and CHristophers whole life an dmoved them to LA - he's been questioning if hes done the right thing - the shirt being put on - covering him up - is showing that it is the right thing - that the uniform is a safe space for him.

Then we have the Shannon of it all - they fall back into bed - and shirtless Eddie is spiralling out - not wanting to actually have the conversation about what they are doing (Shannon has to come to the firehouse to get that conversation to happen) he puts a tee back on so he can step back into dad mode.

Eddies fight club era - is a massive and obvious spiral that he is in - dealing with the death of Shannon and all his feelings around the fact she'd asked for a divorce, plus the fact that he could've lost his son in the tsunami, but Buck saved him and Eddie has complicated feelings developing there that he's not in a position to either recognise or deal with. We never see him put a shirt on here - just a zip front hoodie - that he doesn't zip up - symbolic of not actually dealing with anything - just sort of hiding it.

We also have a flashback scene in Eddie begins where he is shirtless in the militrary hospital - once more it is Eddie vulnerable and exposed and dealing with a traumatic event.

Then we have Eddie after leaving the 118 to work at dispatch - we see him start shirtless - essentially when he's at his most vulnerable and then as he finds a way to build up some new walls for himself we see the black singlet appear and then we move on to various tee his spiral happen - we never see him put a shirt on here - he does get into uniform, but its always cut to rather than watching him actually get dressed. He hasn't dealt with his issues at this point and the implication is the walls he's built up - that are letting him pretend to be fine are flimsy - then a bit later we get his breakdown

We get no shirtless Eddie in season 6 - its a season about him dealing with and healing from a large portion of his trauma.

In season 7 we've had him shirtless several times already. Firstly in the locker room - Eddie is shirtless whilst talking about first dates but then we get Eddie putting on his shirt - its denim - much more robust than anything we've seen him put on in this way before as soon as Buck reveals he's single.

Then when Marisol was moving in - not going to go into the parallels with Shannon here - and Eddie starts to spiral. We've already had the closet conversation by this point, so the fact that we have him shirtless essentially in the aftermath of that conversation is an interesting choice, we also don't see him putting on a shirt here! instead we are left with a visual representaion of a part of Eddie he had tried to keep locked up newly exposed.

And now we have this bachelor party - where it seems to be that Eddie is losing his shirt bit by bit (cannot wait to get the context for this!)and ending up in just the collar.

He wakes up in the bathtub in just the collar before he puts the suit jacket back on, in much the same way as he put the hoodie on back in season 3. Its an indicator that while he's covering things up, he isn't actually hiding them - that they are still visible for people to see if they go looking. And while I'm on that subject - the fact the collar is the thing he's left wearing - literally playing into the religious theming of Eddies vulnerability because it is screaming dog collar!

The show making such a clear visual indicator that connects to the last time we saw Eddie shirtless is very telling - its indicating to those looking, that Eddie might've asked Marisol not to move in and taken a step towards dealing with his catholic guilt, but the reality is that he hasn't dealt with it at all and that it is still very much a part of his story - his arc.

THere seems to be something in the soft underbelly of who Eddie Diaz is, that reveals its self for these brief moments, only to be covered up and hidden once more - with varying degrees of sucess. This season its especially loud and telling.

If we look at this season more closely - all of them are interesting moments, and all of them are connected to closets or defacto closets. The locker room - Eddie's locker is open while he is shirtless - he stands in front of it - a locker is a form of closet - its for storing his clothing etc while he's at work - a place where he stores is civvies - his real self. He only moves away from the locker and puts a shirt on, when the conversation moves from him onto to Buck - Bucks vulnerability is not Eddies and so he doesn't need to be shirtless - in fact he needs to not be - to shield himself from Bucks vulnerability.

Then we have the bedroom - which while not technically a closet, is Eddies safe space - a place where he can be his full self (in theory) and shirtless Eddie has one of his biggest vulnerabilities revealed in that scene - its so big that he cannot cover it up and hide it - his catholic guilt. This is the first time we're seeing Eddie's room since Buck was in there at the end of season 5 helping patch the holes in the walls. It makes sense that Eddie having a moment where his catholic guilt is revealed becasue even if it isn't directly a closet it - indirectly because he was going to start putting things in his closet - was going to let Marisol into his closet.

The implications of him not being able to let Marisol into his closet are pretty telling in my opinion. Even the fact that she was coming with her own armoire is in and of itself speaks volumes

And now we have bachelor party Eddie - kicking in metaphorical closet doors (whilst kicking in actual closed doors) and falling asleep in bath tubs whilst wearing pink!

The pink in combination with this idea that Eddie is vulnerable and heading towards dealing with his catholic guilt in the same way that he was heading towards dealing with his other trauma before. Pink - as I've talked about in the season 7 costume meta's is the colour of naivety or innocence. yes there is the idea that Eddie (and probably by extension, Buck) will be innocent in whatever ends up happening with Chimney.

But there is also the idea that this innocence and naivety plays into the fact we're seeing a lot of Eddie shirtless and the play into his vulnerability as well as Eddies catholic guilt and all the closet references. This idea that Eddies naively trying to ignore his catholic guilt, ignore his vulnerablity as well as the fact that his catholic guilt stems back to his childhood - when he was effectively an innocent.

yeah I have a lot of thoughts on all of it