#We’re watching the trilogy in my film class and we’ve just started War and I’ve already cried like twice

[viva-la-bohemia]

Will Rodman and Caesar are soooooo “Father and Son” by Cat Stevens

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #453

Top Ten Films That Make Me Happy

So every once in a while I do one of these things and the world ends up moving so fast that between me having an idea, writing the list, and it going up on Tumblr of a weekend, the plates have shifted and it doesn’t seem quite as relevant anymore. I remember listing ten films I wanted to see because cinemas were reopening; I think only two of them ever actually saw the inside of a Cineworld. And so we have this week; when I came up with the idea for the list, I thought either we’d all be in a celebratory mood, or else need commiserating. And at the time of writing, it’s looking – thankfully – that we’ll have enough reasons to be cheerful to be getting along with. But who knows? If you’re reading this on Saturday there may be a new president, or maybe the old one’s bombed China.

It’s a funny old world.

Anyway, like I said, my initial thought was that, in this time of darkness, we might need a little light; that everything is rather remorselessly grim and difficult, and we could do with a bit of cheering up. We’re all back in lockdown, the idiots are in charge, and Halo Infinite was delayed till next year. Lots of crap is going on. And, yes, fingers crossed, maybe we will be celebrating the Idiot in Chief getting booted out of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue before too long, but life has taught me never to count chickens, and you can always do with a little restorative nip in your pocket, just in case. And what is a good curative for the blues? A fillum.

Yes, feel-good films. Cheerer-uppers. Movies that make ya happy. There are lots of them, of course; it’s practically a genre. But one man’s meat is another man’s poison, and one man’s (end of) It’s a Wonderful Life is another man’s (middle section of) It’s a Wonderful Life. Which is to say that what makes me happy might not make you happy. I found this when doing a bit of research for this list; as is common, I often have quite a few ideas when I’ve thought of a topic, but I like to Google it (or Bing it, as I get Microsoft Reward Points and I’m saving up for a few months of Game Pass), just in case there’s some obvious film that has escaped my mental grasp. In this case what I found was some of the films that people consider to be uplifting are downright weird – Forrest Gump? Really? And a lot of truly mediocre romcoms seem to float people’s happiness boats, from the wildly uneven Love Actually to the tepid You’ve Got Mail to the overlong and overly twee The Holiday (a film which I hated on first watch but which has grown on me, Stockholm-style, as I’ve seen it over and over again every year). And some people even list stuff like Lord of the Rings or Star Wars or Pirates of the Caribbean; good movies, true, but are they feel-good? I mean, loads of people die in all those films; in one of them an actual planet blows up. I know we like zombie monkeys and Harrison Ford in a waistcoat, but they’re not really the most relentlessly cheerful films, are they?

Or are they? I mean, when I got right down to it, there were quite a few blowy-uppy pictures that are genuine comfort blankets for me (Air Force One, which I watched so much at one point that I used to fall comfortably asleep to it when I was on my own, nearly made the cut). So, y’know, who am I to judge? I think what makes us feel comfortable, happy, and upbeat can be wildly diverse and erratic, even within our own taste window.

And really that’s what I was after here; comfort movies, films that uplift or inspire or just, well, make you smile. Not just because we’ve blown up the Death Star or because Tom Hanks has snogged Meg Ryan again. But there’s something about the film, from its story to its characters to its composition, that is continuously joyful.

So whether we’re lifting a glass in celebration or drowning our sorrows with an armful of Stella, here’s to the films that make us feel better. Chin up, folks. It might never happen!

Paddington 2 (2017): what is it about this film that evokes such joy? I’d say everything, from the script to the performances to the music to the shot choices. The bad guy is funny, the dire situations rarely threatening, almost everyone is nice, and it ends with a redemption and a musical number. Beyond all that, though, Paddington himself is such a supernova of absolute goodness that you can’t help but feel optimistic just by watching him. It’s perfect, really.

WALL-E (2008): a film that starts with the end of the world but it gets better. It’s a cinematic joy, the virtually dialogue-free opening giving us dystopic vistas and a real sense of mood. But it’s WALL-E himself who brings the real feels, a mechanical wonder who does nothing but make other people happy and improve their lives almost by accident. he saves the human race and the planet simply by trying to be nice to one person at a time, and that’s a hell of an optimistic message.

When Harry Met Sally (1989): far sarkier than the other two films, and obviously a bit more, well, grown up (we all know what you must not do with Mister Zero), this is nonetheless a beautiful film. A slow-burning romance between two friendly, funny people, witticisms flying from every mouth, some absolute, genuine emotional stakes that you really, really care about, and the single most romantic ending a film has ever had.

Groundhog Day (1993): let’s face it, it’s the best film either Harold Ramis or Bill Murray has ever been involved in, and I bought every issue of Transformers/Ghostbusters. A tour-de-force of cynicism and sourness from Murray, but he gradually unravels (in more ways than one), becoming a happier and better person. It’s funny, it’s sweet, and the complexities of its chronally-displaced plot means there’s loads you can unpick. Masterfully written, directed, and edited, and that’s some of its joy, too.

The Hudsucker Proxy (1994): the Coens have, obviously, made a lot of very good films, and not all of them are darkly serious (No Country) or darkly hilarious (Fargo); they also have lighter fare, but none as floaty-light or so supremely joyous as Hudsucker. The script is pure screwball but also a precisely-honed, fast-spoken, Golden Age charm; the performances are all fantastic (we also get the best Lois Lane, Perry White, and Steve Lombard scene ever shot, and it’s not even in a Superman film). Look, it’s hilarious, it’s arch, it’s fantastically put-together, and it’s actually, genuinely hopeful and optimistic. It’s my favourite Coen Brothers movie.

Singin' in the Rain (1952): I’ve always got a lot of love for movies about Old Hollywood, but Singin’ isn’t really some kind of backstage satire; really, it’s a story about love, honesty, and creativity – movies are just the backdrop. But it’s the songs. Let’s face it, it’s the songs – and dances. These are some of the most joyous songs put to celluloid, and Gene Kelly absolutely attacks them from all sides. But I’ve gotta say, my favourite number is probably Donald O’Connor running up the walls in “Make ‘Em Laugh”.

Strictly Ballroom (1992): there’s a personal touch to this one, as my wife and I chose “Love is in the Air” for the first dance at our wedding. But there’s more to this film than memories of me being a shit dancer: it’s a supremely romantic film, possibly the most enjoyable straight-up romance from Luhrmann’s Red Curtain trilogy (spoiler alert: no one dies). A great underdog tale, two kids taking down a corrupt system, a story of the unlikely girl nabbing the hot guy; it’s timeless, it’s well-told, and its unusual setting (ballroom dancing competitions in Australia) gives it an extra kick.

My Neighbour Totoro (1988):  Ghibli films often present us with a nicer, fairer world, where even the nasty monsters are there to teach us important lessons, or at the very least plucky kids can do the right thing and save the day. Totoro is different in that there isn’t an antagonist; there isn't much drama or, really, plot. It’s two very small girls dealing with a complex life situation, and also a giant bear-monster thing with a massive mouth who could be scary but is actually really nice and magical and saves the day because the girls deserve it, and also there’s a hollow cat that’s also a bus. It’s fantastic, but it’s also so nice, just a load of nice people and nice monsters being nice to each other, and if – let's say – the elements can be good, can't we be good too?

Die Hard (1988): yeah, okay, contradiction corner; a supremely violent and sweary action movie that makes me “feel good”. Is it the bit where he throws a bomb down a lift? Or shoots a dude from beneath a table? Or when Ellis dies? Honestly, yeah, there’s a little bit of that; the action stuff is so well-done. But it’s also a film with a ton of heart and soul and wit and life. John McClane is a masterpiece of character design, a gruff cop with a heart of gold, a capable action hero but also a working-class schmo who just wants to try to get back with his wife. He struggles and bleeds and doubts himself; he’s not a superman. The villains are incredible, with great lines and great designs and a great scheme; you care about these guys, they’re interesting. There's a part of you that wants Gruber to get away as much as you want John and Holly to get back together. It's a Christmas movie, all about family and forgiveness, and It's just plain fun, uncynical and sentimental and really, really funny. It's the best action movie ever made, I watch it every year, and it brings me great, great comfort and joy.

The American President (1995): oh no, too soon! But I couldn’t include The West Wing in a list of feel-good films, so this is the next best thing; smart public servants being smart, as well as moral and just, wearing their immense power with the right amount of humility. Sorkin really believes in the majesty of the office of President, and the founding myth of America and what that means, and he makes you believe in it too. His dialogue is, of course, exceptional, witty bon-mots and one-liners, but the love story is great too; two people finding each other later in life and trying to make it work despite everything. So it’s a great film, a funny film, a sweet film, a romantic film, but also kinda important; a film that makes you aspire to higher ideals, that gives you hope and confidence in the institutions of government.  I suppose it is a fantasy – God knows, the last four years have shaken these institutions to their very core, over here as much as in the States – but The American President can make you believe again.

There you go. Ten films that just make me happy if I'm down, or cement that happiness if I'm already in the mood. All of these films, you’ll notice, are also very, very good; not some kind of “guilty pleasure” (if such a thing exists; don’t pleasure-shame!). Funnily enough, it’s the quality of the films that adds to their charm; I appreciate the craft as much as the plot or theme or performances.  Like when I watch American President (or, more accurately, The West Wing) and I just enjoy seeing people good at their jobs be good at their jobs, then watching a well-made film makes me happy because I like seeing people good at their jobs be good at their jobs.

Anyway. Tear yourself away from Twitter, stop refreshing fivethirtyeight.com, pour yourself a drink, and – hopefully – make yourself happy this weekend. Unless you voted for Trump, then you can get in a bin.

[pitviperofdoom]

BNHA: Summer Stars, 3/?

Summary: It’s been judged safe to send the students of UA home to their families for the first three weeks of summer, much to the relief of everyone whose name isn’t Todoroki Shouto. Luckily, Midoriya has a solution for him, and Midoriya Inko has a lot of love to give.

AO3

“This is a travesty,” Izuku said. “This is absolutely—no. This is unacceptable.”

Todoroki, for his part, looked quietly embarrassed. “Is it really such a big deal?” he asked.

“That you haven’t seen Star Wars? Or any Disney movies? Kind of. A little bit.”

“I’ve never had much exposure to American media,” Todoroki admitted with a roll of his eyes.

Izuku stared at him. “It’s Disney.”

“And my old man’s an asshole,” Todoroki pointed out.

At this, Izuku winced visibly. “Oh. Right.” Damn, he was probably being insensitive. “Sorry. I, uh, well I didn’t forget, I just…”

“It’s fine,” Todoroki said with a shrug. “There’s a lot I don’t know. Is it really that important?”

“I guess it’s not vitally important,” Izuku admitted. “I mean, they are just movies, and I guess they aren’t for everyone?” He shrugged. “Still, though, it’s a pop culture thing, and stuff like that kind of gets ingrained in, well, everything. People make references and stuff.” He paused, trying to think of an example. “Oh, remember how weird Kaminari got last May? On the fourth?”

“Vaguely.” Todoroki squinted a little as he thought. “Was that when he kept trying to goad Bakugou into a sword fight with an umbrella?”

“With laser noises, yeah.” Izuku nodded. “That was a Star Wars thing.”

“Ah.” Todoroki blinked. “Well. That’s… that certainly answers a question I never really had in the first place.”

“Really, you didn’t?”

“I mean.” Todoroki shrugged again. “It’s Kaminari.”

“Heh, good point.” Izuku grinned. “So, uh… you really don’t know anything about Star Wars?”

“I don’t think so.” Todoroki shook his head. “If I do, it’s not something I can recognize. Is that a bad thing?”

“Honestly? Now I’m kind of excited,” Izuku admitted. “Like I said, it’s ingrained. Everybody knows what Star Wars is. Even a lot of people who don’t know what Star Wars is still kind of know what Star Wars is.”

Todoroki eyed him reproachfully. “Midoriya, are you making fun of me?”

“O-of course not!” Alarmed Izuku backpedaled immediately. “Th-that’s not what I meant! Sorry if it sounded like—I mean, I wasn’t. I’d never—” He paused a moment to get his words in order, grinning sheepishly. “I just meant that it’s exciting because now I get to show you how cool it is, and it’ll be completely new, you know? So, with that in mind, how do you feel about a marathon? My mom and I have the original trilogy. It’s a classic.” He smiled hopefully; it wasn’t every day that he got to show someone something new for the first time.

Todoroki blinked at him, looking surprised, and a moment later his eyes softened. “Sure.”

It was hardly the first time Izuku had watched movies with a friend; every now and then, someone in the dorms (usually Ashido or Kaminari) would yell “Movie night!” and at least two thirds of the class would wake up the next morning sprawled out in the common area with stiff necks and popcorn crumbs in their clothes. How had they gone so long without Star Wars or Disney?

His phone chimed then with a new text message from Uraraka.

>>Hey, Deku! Are you doing anything today? Iida, Tsuyu and I are free, so I was thinking maybe we could hang out!

Izuku frowned, considering the message for a moment, before turning and showing it to Todoroki. “What do you think?” he asked, his face lighting up in another eager smile. “Should we make this a party?”

“Do you want to?”

“Well, kind of, but…”

The look on Todoroki’s face was not what most people would call a grin, but it was close enough to count. “Then why not?”

---

Inko was in high spirits.

For almost a year now, her home had become such a quiet place. With her husband working abroad and her son living at school, she had been left in an empty apartment with far too much room to herself and no one left to share it with. She could have the occasional lunch with friends, or phone call or visit from her son, but none of those did anything to make her home feel as warm as it once had.

It really wasn’t fair; empty nest syndrome wasn’t supposed to come until Izuku was in college, not high school. His childhood had slipped by so quickly as it was, and now there were villains and lurking dangers set to steal the rest of his precious years from her as well.

But now, her son was home, and he had brought a friend—and today, on just the second day of his vacation, he had brought even more. Inko found herself being introduced and re-introduced to the trio when they arrived later in the afternoon. Uraraka Ochako was a bright, bouncing bundle of energy—her son’s very first friend, or so Izuku had told her. Close to her side was Asui Tsuyu, shy and quietly sweet and bearing enough sweets for everyone to enjoy, Inko included. And Iida Tenya—another minor celebrity, the youngest son in the family of Ingenium—was at once similar to Todoroki and vastly different. Impeccably courteous to her on the one hand, but loud and boisterous and enthusiastic on the other.

“What is it?” Izuku asked her as he poured microwaved popcorn into a large bowl.

“Hm?” Inko looked up from the counter she was wiping down to find her son grinning at her.

“You haven’t stopped smiling since Iida, Uraraka, and Tsuyu got here,” Izuku remarked. “Your face isn’t getting tired, is it?”

“Hmph.” She pretended to look down her nose at him primly. “If it is, then it’s because I’m out of practice after all the fretting I do over you.”

He laughed sheepishly. “Alright, alright, I deserved that.”

“Your friends are wonderful, that’s all,” she said. “You chose them so well. I used to worry, years ago, that the next friend you made would be, well… Bakugou Katsuki all over again.” She winced inwardly. Perhaps she shouldn’t have brought that up.

Her son’s smile faded. “Yeah, well… even with him, it’s not so bad anymore. I don’t know if we’ll ever really be friends, not like how I am with Iida or Uraraka or Todoroki, but… it’s better than it was. We’re better than we were. Things are less… lopsided. And we might not like each other very much, but I trust him.” He seemed to shake himself. “But, you know, there’s a difference between trusting someone, and wanting to watch space opera flicks for six hours with them.”

“Hey Deku!” Uraraka called from the living room. “We’ve got the first movie set up!”

“I’ll be out in a minute!” Izuku called back.

“Deku...” Inko echoed, half to herself.

“That’s also better than it used to be,” Izuku told her with a smile. “You want to watch with us, Mom?”

She almost brushed him off and told him to go be with his friends. But then she remembered—he lived with his friends almost every day now. This was her time to catch up with him. “I think I will. Go ahead and start, though. I just want to finish up here.”

He took the popcorn out to them, but returned a moment later, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and helped clean the rest of the counter.

By the time she walked out, she had more snacks, some cookies, a plate full of apple slices, a pitcher of punch, and a small stack of little plates to minimize the mess. She found everyone huddled in front of the TV, and was met with a chorus of enthusiastic thank-yous. Iida stood up to take some food off her hands, with Todoroki quickly following suit.

“You’re very welcome!” She beamed at her small group of guests. “You’re all welcome to stay for dinner as well—you’ll probably have to, if you have your hearts set on seeing all three of these. Just leave your plates and cups by the sink when you’re done, and I’ll take care of them.”

“We would be happy too, Mrs. Midoriya!”

“Sure thing!”

“No problem—ribbit.”

“Thank you.”

She didn’t feel too selfish sitting next to her son. After everything that had happened, she had the right to hog him a little.

In the end, most of them spent more time watching Todoroki than they did the actual movies.

---

“Did… they just annihilate an entire planet?”

“Yep!”

“Out of spite?”

“It’s the Empire, it’s kind of their thing—ribbit.”

---

“Wait, where did his body go?”

“It disappeared.”

“How?”

“Magic.”

“I thought this was science fiction.”

“Yeah, but he just—he became one with the Force.”

“What does that even mean?”

---

“Well that’s awfully convenient.”

“Oh, here we go.”

“No, no, I’m with Todoroki. What are the odds that an otherwise impenetrable battle station was designed with a hole in it that leads directly from the core to the outside? And that the core is so unstable in the first place that one blast from that distance would ignite it? It’s a glaring design flaw that I highly doubt an organized force like the Empire would—”

“Maybe it’s on purpose—ribbit.”

“How do you mean?”

“Maybe one of the engineers who designed it was a traitor or something—ribbit. And he secretly hated the Empire, like they took him from his family or something, so he cozied up to them and made them trust him and then sabotaged it on purpose.”

“I dunno, Tsuyu, that sounds kinda far-fetched.”

---

“Wait, I don’t understand—why are all of you cringing at that kiss? It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“Um.”

“Well...”

“Nobody tell him.”

---

“Midoriya?” “Yeah, Todoroki?”

“Is something wrong? You seem unsettled.”

“Oh, I’m fine, it’s just… I dunno. I used to like Yoda a lot, but now he just… makes me nervous.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I can’t put my finger on it.”

---

The room was silent. Todoroki’s eyes were glued to the screen. Everyone else’s eyes were glued to Todoroki.

“Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father.”

“He told me enough. He told me you killed him!”

Uraraka had her phone out, surreptitiously filming Todoroki’s face.

“No. I am your father.”

Todoroki froze with a small handful of popcorn halfway to his mouth. On the screen, Mark Hamill screamed in anguish. Around him, all his friends waited on bated breath.

He took a deep breath, and whispered a heartfelt “What the fuck.”

---

“...She was his sister the whole time.”

“Uh… yeah…”

“His sister.”

---

“...Midoriya, are you crying?”

“Don’t judge me.”

“Deku, how many times have you seen this movie?”

“Look, he redeemed Vader, he brought his father back from the Dark Side, don’t judge me!”

“Iida-chan, are you crying too? Ribbit.”

“It’s—it’s a beautiful ending… and the funeral scene with the fire always just…”

“Wish I could do that to my father sometimes.”

“What’d you say, Todoroki? You’re kinda mumbling there.”

“Nothing.”

“Wouldn’t work anyway, Todoroki, he’s already on fire.”

“Midoriya-chan, now you’re mumbling too—ribbit.”

---

Inko hummed as she got started on the dishes. Not long after the credits rolled on Return of the Jedi, Uraraka, Iida, and Asui had left. After six straight hours of movie watching, there was little wonder about that; Inko herself had gotten restless, hence why she was neatening up the kitchen again. Izuku and Todoroki were all that was left of the little party, and her son was diving back into their collection of DVDs again.

Truthfully, there was another reason why she had stepped away. She had little evidence to back it up, no more than vague feelings, but she could swear up and down that she was making Todoroki a little nervous.

Today had given her false hope; surrounded by three other classmates, friends if their lighthearted teasing was anything to go by, Todoroki had relaxed enough to enjoy himself. He had even made jokes. Dry, deadpan jokes, but jokes all the same. And then their three friends had said their goodbyes and left, and it was like a switch had been flipped. Inko almost missed it, it happened so quickly. One moment her son’s friend was relaxed and comfortable, very nearly smiling, and the next he was straight-backed as if his spine had been replaced with an iron rod. He looked more like he was sitting on a chair outside the principal’s office than on a couch in her house, as a guest. His face was neutral, almost carefully so, and he went quiet.

Inko highly doubted that it was Izuku causing this. No, despite her best efforts, she was doing something to make the poor dear uneasy.

How strange.

She very nearly jumped out of her skin when Todoroki appeared in the kitchen beside her, as if he had materialized from thin air. Now, admittedly, the sink was running, so that made it a bit difficult to hear, but still. The boy must move like a cat.

“Sorry,” he said, dashing her hopes that he hadn’t noticed her startle like that.

“It’s quite all right,” she assured him. “Wasn’t paying attention, that’s all.”

“I see.” He stepped forward, bearing a dirty dinner plate and an empty drinking glass.

“Ah!” She took both out of his hands and deposited them carefully in the sink. “Thank you very much, Todoroki!”

He looked at her blankly. “...For what?”

“For… bringing the dishes to me,” she replied, confused.

“Oh.” Todoroki blinked at her, still looking faintly baffled. “But… you told us to?”

“I did,” she said. “And thank you for doing so.”

“Right, sorry. You’re welcome.” With that, he left the kitchen again.

Inko wasted water for a few more seconds just staring after him, thoroughly perplexed. Well… that was certainly an odd exchange. She pondered it as she finished with the dishes, mulling the short conversation over and over until she had examined it forwards and backwards. By the time the last plate was in the drainboard, she was no closer to understanding it than she had been before.

She peeked into the living room and found them sitting together on the couch. They’d put in another movie while she was busy—true to Izuku’s earlier vow, he seemed to be showing his friend some of their Disney DVDs. Not that Todoroki seemed to mind. They were shoulder to shoulder, Izuku crosslegged while Todoroki’s unerring politeness apparently kept him from putting his feet on the couch. The soft almost-smile was back on Todoroki’s face. At one point, as Inko watched, Izuku turned his head and murmured something to him without taking his eyes off the screen, and Todoroki leaned closer to hear him and reply.

Well.

Inko stepped back around the corner before either of them could spot her. As much as she would love to wander in and enjoy a few more movies, catch up on a little gentle teasing, and indulge in her mother’s prerogative to embarrass her son in front of his friends… they were having fun. Her shy houseguest was comfortable and enjoying himself. No point in barging in and ruining that.

So, she checked on them from time to time, but decided to give them their space for the rest of the evening.

The last time she peeked out, it was past midnight and she was prepared to tell the boys to turn in for the night. Her mouth opened to call out to them, and then shut when she saw them. Silently, she tiptoed out into the living room.

The TV was still on, and the credits for Zootopia were rolling. On the couch, nestled into the cushions, both boys were draped against one another, still sitting upright only because they were propped against each other. Izuku was using his friend’s shoulder as a pillow. Todoroki’s head rested on Izuku’s, his face half-hidden in her son’s hair. Both of them were fast asleep.

Would it be churlish of her to run for her camera?

Shaking her head fondly, she turned and hunkered down to stop the movie, turn off the TV, and put away the DVD. Every noise she made, no matter how soft, made her wince. She need not have worried, though. The boys slept soundly through it all.

Perhaps she ought to have woken them up so that they could go to bed properly, but Inko hadn’t the heart to disturb them. They looked so comfortable that way. Besides, getting caught just shy of cuddling like this might embarrass them, and not in a good way.

In the end, she left a folded blanket within their reach, and turned off all the lights except the one in the kitchen. She debated dragging out the camera once more, before dismissing the idea and going off to bed herself.

---

Shouto woke slowly. The moment he was remotely aware of things, he didn’t want to move.

There were times, every now and then, when he happened to wake up from a deep sleep, and find himself in a position in which he was certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he had an excruciatingly stiff neck to look forward to. Sleep did not always agree with him, and on bad nights he was more likely to move around a lot and wake up in strange positions. He was, as Fuyumi sometimes put it, a “violent sleeper”.

This took the cake, though. Was he sitting up? How was he already sitting up? Where was he?

He breathed in, and almost sneezed when hair went up his nose. His first thought was that it was his own, but that couldn’t be right because it was the wrong angle and his hair wasn’t quite that long yet. His second thought was that there was hair on his pillow.

Except, the side of his face was pressed to something that was most certainly not a pillow.

Gingerly, Shouto lifted and turned his head, ever so slightly, and opened his eyes. The faint smell of shampoo filled his nose.

For a moment, Shouto squinted through heavy eyelids at the mess of green curls without comprehending what he was not quite seeing. Then he registered the couch beneath him, the weight on his shoulder, and the solid warmth pressed against his side, and suddenly he had an entirely different reason to not want to move.

He was sleeping against Midoriya. Midoriya was sleeping on him. He had Midoriya’s head tucked against the crook of his neck, and he had been sleeping that way. Presumably for most of the night.

Oh.

This was the sort of thing people panicked about, wasn’t it?

Carefully, without moving, Shouto inhaled and exhaled slowly. Breathe. This… was not a big deal. This was hardly the first time something like this had happened. Movie nights and late-night group study sessions at the dorms tended to end like this, with Shouto waking up uncomfortably close to one of his classmates, in spite of his subconscious self’s best efforts to keep his distance. While those moments were less than ideal, they were nothing to be anxious about. This was no different.

Except it was.

Not only because this was far closer than Todoroki had ever ended up in the morning after a study session, but also because… it wasn’t uncomfortable.

He’d woken up once with Kaminari’s hand resting on his arm—nothing suggestive, purely by accident. Shouto still remembered how his stomach had turned with unease. Not that he disliked Kaminari; he just disliked being touched by Kaminari without a practical reason for it. It was a stupid thing to be upset about, but at least it was something he could bear quietly and hide.

Right now, his stomach was… not turning, that was for sure. Fluttering a bit, maybe. But beyond that, everything was fine. Comfortable. Cozy, even. He could have closed his eyes and gone right back to sleep to the sound of Midoriya’s soft, even breathing.

He did shut his eyes, but instead of drifting off again, he let out a short, quiet sigh.

He wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t helpless. He knew already—he knew. Since spring, at least. The city-wide villain attack. His brief stay in the hospital. Waking up groggy and disoriented to Midoriya’s face. He’d known at least since then, maybe even farther back than that.

He knew what this was.

And no matter how hard he tried to fool himself, to shut his eyes and plug his ears and tell himself it’s friendship, he’s my friend, the best friend I’ve ever had and nothing more than that, there were simply some things that not even Todoroki Shouto could remain oblivious to. It was just bad luck that his own crush on his closest friend had to be one of them.

Feeling helpless, he settled back down and shut his eyes again. It was too early for this. If he moved then he would wake Midoriya up and this whole situation would turn from comfortable if somewhat awkward to uncomfortable and incredibly awkward. But Midoriya was far better than he was when it came to dealing with these things. Better to let him handle it and go back to pretending it hadn’t happened.

Feigning sleep, he rested his head back against the couch instead of on Midoriya’s to make it easier for Midoriya to disentangle himself.

---

Izuku’s eyes snapped open.

He was not in bed.

This was not a pillow.

This was a shoulder.

Specifically, it was Todoroki’s shoulder. And he was sleeping on it as if it was a pillow.

In a quite frankly astonishing display of self-control, Izuku managed not to shriek like a soprano and flail. Instead he went perfectly still, not even shaking, barely breathing, as he took stock of his current position.

He was sleeping on Todoroki. His head was on Todoroki’s shoulder, his body was pressed up against Todoroki’s side—the left side, the warm side, wow no wonder I fell asleep like this, this is really comfortable—

Focus.

This wasn’t a big deal. It shouldn’t be a big deal. The last time the class had a movie night in the dorms, he’d woken up on Iida’s shoulder, with Mineta sprawled in his lap. That hadn’t been awkward at all. They’d laughed it off. (Except Mineta—he’d shot off the moment he woke up, screaming that he liked girls.)

But this wasn’t Iida (or Mineta). This was Todoroki, and Todoroki was hesitant about being touched. And the last thing he wanted to do was make Todoroki uncomfortable.

So if he could just… move away. Gently. Without waking him up. He was already naturally warm on that side, so it wouldn’t make too much of a difference, would it?

With the utmost care, Izuku gingerly lifted his head off of Todoroki’s shoulder—and thank goodness Todoroki had his head back against the couch instead of on Izuku’s, or else this would have been impossible—and shifted away. An odd feeling bloomed inside him, somewhere in the vicinity of his stomach, and he froze for a moment and tried to identify it. It wasn’t nervousness, or even embarrassment.

It was… disappointment?

Izuku shook his head. What did he have to be disappointed about? All he’d done was move away. And if he was disappointed about that, then—

Nope, some tiny part of his brain said. Nope. Absolutely not. We’re not going down that road.

But maybe—

Izuku shook his head again to clear it, with a whispered “Oh my god.”

Todoroki didn’t stir, thank goodness. But just to be safe, Izuku reached for a couch pillow. Even better—Mom must have left a blanket for them at some point (he cringed on the inside, wondering if she’d seen them sleeping like that). Izuku grabbed the folded blanket and set it gently in the spot where he had been, then slid off the couch and crept off to his room for a change of clothes.

---

Shouto’s face felt like it was burning. Don’t set the blanket on fire. Don’t set the blanket on fire.

He wondered, with no small amount of chagrin, if there was a polite way to to ask a friend to stop being so cute.

[aion-rsa]

The Teleprompter Interview: Michael Smiley ‘I Still Get Recognised Most for Tyres in Spaced’

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‘When somebody decides to call a character Brock Blennerhassett,’ says Michael Smiley, ‘you think, well, that hasn’t just come off the top of your head, there must be something going on there!’ What’s going on with Blennerhassett, his lead role in new darkly comic Victorian drama Dead Still, is strange, timely and layered, says Smiley.

Dead Still, available in the UK now to stream on Acorn TV, is ‘a dark, funny, proper period drama set in Dublin in Victorian times’ Smiley explains. His character Blennerhassett is part of the Anglo-Irish landed gentry who’s broken away to work in the experimental field of memorial photography, taking pictures of posed corpses for bereaved families. ‘That was a big thing in Victorian times because of the British Empire being in mourning after Prince Albert died.’

The series blends a murder mystery with gallows humour and colonial Irish politics. ‘All of those slightly dark times have been cast in with the Empire,’ says Smiley, who’s hoping for a second series. ‘The whole concept has legs.’

A frequent collaborator with writer-director Ben Wheatley, a comedian and star of indie cinema, with mainstream roles in Luther, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story, Black Mirror, Doctor Who and Spaced, Michael Smiley talks Den of Geek through his TV memories.

Which TV show inspired you to start acting?

I wasn’t inspired to start acting. I wasn’t one of those people. Anybody on television or in the cinema were from another planet, it wasn’t for the likes of me. I was a working class kid from a housing estate on the outskirts of Belfast, it wasn’t like my parents said [English accent] ‘You should go on the stage young man!’ That wasn’t my life. It was a beautiful mistake that I ended up with the career that I’ve got.

But I grew up on Play for Today. I was allowed to stay up and watch it with my dad when I was a kid. It was the first time that I came across Alan Bleasdale’s work. He was a major influence, that was the first time I’d really seen the working class being represented in the best way, warts and all. Then I went backwards and watched A Taste of Honey and Saturday Night and Sunday Morning, I became obsessed with kitchen sink drama. The closest we had to it in Northern Ireland was the Billy plays, the Billy trilogy [by Graham Reed] which was Kenneth Branagh’s debut with James Ellis, about a working class family in Belfast.

And how about as a comedian? Did you watch stand-ups on television growing up?

Again, there wasn’t much stand-up on TV apart from The Comedians, just fat blokes talking about Pakistanis and Irish, ‘stupid Irishmen’ and stuff like that, I didn’t enjoy that.

I enjoyed collecting jokes and being able to tell a joke, having a repertoire. I would collect jokes and tell them in the playground and we’d swap jokes then we’d go home and tell them to our parents.

As far as stand-up on the TV, the first time I really saw any would have been Billy Connolly Bites Yer Bum and the first Richard Pryor one, Live in Concert, where he’s wearing the red silk shirt and Robin Williams Live at the Met, they were the three big ones.

When you were telling those jokes in the playground, did you ever pretend to be TV characters?

Yeah, I used to do Rigsby, I used to do [Rising Damp’s] Leonard Rossiter. [Does a very passable Rigsby impression] I had a very limited repertoire, so I would pretty much do Rigsby over and over.

And I was called Monty Python, that was another big thing. I got The Life of Brian on audiotape, so then I knew all the jokes in that, then when I saw it I was really disappointed in the film [laughs] because I loved the cassette.

Read more

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Ben Mendelsohn and Michael Smiley interview: Black Sea

By Brendon Connelly

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Kill List review

By Michael Leader

Have any TV shows given you nightmares?

I was allowed to stay up and watch the old Hammer Horror when I was a kid, the ones with Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing and I got a few nightmares off that. Nothing else to be honest. The news in Northern Ireland when I was a kid was enough of a nightmare.

And when did you last cry watching television?

I’m always crying to be honest. In all seriousness, the last time I cried was the documentary on Grenfell, and everything about George Floyd. Without taking it too deep and too dark for this interview, that made me cry with exasperation and frustration.

But also I love The Repair Shop. I watched it when it was on BBC Two late afternoon, it was sort of like an out-of-work actor’s little secret thing. I really love that. I normally shed a tear at a woman bringing in a present that her father made her who’s just died, those things always make me cry.

When did you last laugh out loud watching television?

When I was a kid, we were a big one for cartoons. Droopy was a big family favourite and Foghorn Leghorn. I would laugh out loud watching my da laugh out loud, things like Monty Python’s Flying Circus and Spike Milligan and stuff like that was the laugh out loud stuff in our house.

Also, recently, we’ve become a big family of Friday Night Dinner fans, that’s a family favourite. We’ll sit down and watch episode after episode after episode. My nine-year-old daughter has become obsessed with Jim, played by Mark Heap, he’s a hero of hers. She does her version. She gets up and does her little impressions of Jim, which just reminds me of me being a kid doing my impressions of Rigsby [laughs].

What was the last TV show you recommended to a friend?

Things like The Wire would always be something that I’d recommend. Friday Night Dinner is something I’ve recommended.

I like these stupid programmes, real life programmes as opposed to getting involved in box-sets or watching lots on Netflix. I’ll watch The Dog Rescuers with Alan Davies over and over again.

A thing I really love is A House Through Time, with David Olusoga. He’s a great presenter, I love how he presents himself on screen. He’s got a real keenness about him and you can tell he’s quietly obsessed with the subject. He’s great on camera and I love the concept of tracing the history of the families and the stories that went through a building. I’m always banging on about that.

Also, anything with [chef and writer] Anthony Bourdain, God rest his soul. I really love his stuff. On Netflix recently there’s his last series before he died so I’d recommend that too.

Which TV show would you bring back from the dead?

Boys from the Blackstuff. It’s Bleasdale at his best. I saw it when it was ‘The Black Stuff’, which was a Play for Today, and then they made a series out of it. It’s about Liverpool in the 70s and 80s when it was really poor and it was being strangled by the government and getting no funding and everybody was on the dole and it was about how these people kept living and how they tried to find work. It was the first time you’d see people like Julie Walters, for example, Bernard Hill and Michael Angelis, who died recently, just really great actors. I’d like to see a reprisal of that. I would like to see how they’ve done over the years.

Does that answer the next question of which TV show do you wish more people would watch?

I’d say so, yeah.

How about something from your own back catalogue that you feel deserves more attention than it got at the time?

Free Fire. I don’t think enough people saw Free Fire. There’s a little short that I’ve done ages ago, called Believe (watch it here), which is by Paul Wright and Kate Dickie and Paul Hickey are in it. I play a guy whose wife dies and she makes him all these tapes to help him with her passing and he believes he’s going to see her again. I wish more people had seen that because it was the start of Paul Wright’s career as a director.

I also loved Bleak House [2005] and I would have loved a second series of Murder Prevention, which is a cop drama I did on Channel 5 that only got one series but it got loads of good reviews.

And I’d like Sean Lock to do another series of 15 Storeys High.

That’s a good call. Speaking of old shows, we had the 20th anniversary of Spaced last year. What did the part of Tyres mean to you?

Tyres was, of all my characters, probably my most iconic. Tyres is the one, 20 years later, that I still get recognised for the most. It’s a generational thing.

That’s what kicked it off for me. I was really blessed that my TV debut was written for me and it was pretty much written about me – I was an acid house DJ who was also a cycle courier. Me and Simon [Pegg] and Nick [Frost] lived together, so our characters were organic, in the sense of using aspects of our real lives and putting them on the characters on screen. It was a blessing, not many people get that sort of a break.

We knew it was good, but it came out at the same time as a lot of other quality comedy. It’s had such a loyal following, the Spaced fans are all over, they come from everywhere, they’re like Doctor Who fans. It’s really great.

It was fun because it was new. It was new for everybody that was on it. Edgar [Wright, director] was just a wee lad and Nick had never acted before, Simon had done stand-up but didn’t exactly have a massive career at that time, he was only starting out. There was a real exuberance and excitement and it felt like ‘God, we’re having a great time. This is brilliant.’ It had a lovely energy of being young and everything being new, that’s what I remember about it.

Have you ever done fancy dress as a TV character?

The short answer is no. I hate fancy dress. People who turn up to parties in fancy dress… just fucking get a conversation going, let’s just talk, stop fucking standing like some dickhead projecting ‘Tonight I’m the Pirates of the Caribbean!’ No you’re not, you’re Nigel from IT. Let’s talk about IT, Nigel. It drives me insane.

You’ve just reminded me of those dickheads who run alongside the riders in the Tour de France, I want to kill them. It’s all become wrapped up in stag dos and blokes being blokey and having blokey times, you know, rugby blokey blokes all dressed up like women, wearing makeup and wearing those green all-in-one unitards, oh just go away man, honestly!

Is there a TV theme song that you know all the words to?

There’s a couple! They’re all of my generation – The Hair Bear Bunch, Top Cat and The Pink Panther. [Sings] ‘In the wonderland zoo we’re the certain bears who stay at home every night, never quarrel or fight, and we don’t even bite! Help help here come the bears! Help help here come the bears! It’s The Hair Bear Bunch!’

You don’t remember them?

A little bit before my time.

[Sings louder] ‘Top Cat! The indisputable leader of the gang. He’s a boss, he’s a VIP he’s a championship, he’s the most tip top beedleyboop Top Cat!’

Have you watched those with your own kids?

Yeah we love it. They don’t love The Hair Bear Bunch because I think you had to be there. They love The Pink Panther and they love Top Cat. We watch all my old ones with them whether they like it or not.

Given the power, which TV show would you commission? Maybe another series of Dead Still?

Dead Still series two, there you go!

What was the most fun you’ve had making television?

Dead Still was fantastic. As dark as the subject matter was, the humour was there all the time. Weirdly, Kill List was one of the funniest films I’ve ever worked on.

Dead Still was hard work but we laughed and danced every day. I always love to go back to work in Northern Ireland. The banter’s blistering. We take no prisoners over there. Everyone works hard, they’re just dedicated and love to laugh as well. That’s a really important ingredient if you’re going to tell stories, it should be with a joy. We’re privileged to do this job so let’s be kind to each other and crack on.

Dead Still is streaming now on Acorn TV (UK)

The post The Teleprompter Interview: Michael Smiley ‘I Still Get Recognised Most for Tyres in Spaced’ appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[jillmckenzie1]

Make It Stop

I kind of hate January. There, I said it. Yes, it’s the first month of a new year, and it represents a new start and new possibilities and blah blah blah. After the warmth of the holiday season, January is cold, bleak, bereft of life. The main reason I hate January, though? It’s the month where movies go to die.

For the most part, certain times of the year correspond with certain movies. Summer is for big blockbusters. Late fall is when then Academy Award hopefuls are rolled out. January is the dumping ground of the studios. People are going back to work or back to school, and there generally isn’t much of an appetite for filmgoing. The studios know this, and when they have a film that can’t compete in other months, one that’s too quirky or just plain bad, they kick it out the door like a misbehaving dog. Then, they cross their fingers and pray to the nearest available deity that someone will see their misbegotten movie.

Unfailingly, that someone is me. Let’s take a moment and imagine if I emailed my editor and said, “So…yeah…January is the worst. Is it cool with you if I just don’t write anything for the next 30 days?” Let’s take a moment to imagine the silence, then the peals of dark laughter, then the command to release the hounds. Rather than becoming chow for the Official Metro Sampler War Dogs (patent pending), I have no option but to trudge to the theater and steel myself for the coming onslaught.

At this point, maybe you’re expecting me to pull a reverse and talk about the pleasant surprise I viewed on this week’s cinematic sojourn. Nnnnope. January smacked me around. January said, “You thought 2018 was a garbage year? Hah!” January brought the movie Replicas into my life, and for that, I will never forgive it.

We’re introduced to William Foster (Keanu Reeves), a scientist employed by vaguely defined tech company Bionyne. He thinks he’s developed a way to transplant human consciousness. The body of a recently deceased soldier is brought to his Puerto Rican lab, and along with his trusty sidekick and lab partner Ed (Thomas Middleditch), William takes a crack at performing a resurrection.

A resurrection into what, you might ask? Well, the “plan” is to transplant the dead soldier’s brain into a synthetic body. When the consciousness finds itself in a horrifying artificial monstrosity, it freaks the hell out and tears itself apart. We’re less than ten minutes into the film, and I thought to myself, “This is potentially a good start. If I’m lucky, maybe I’ll get a weird-ass movie where Keanu Reeves has to deal with multiple human consciousnesses having nervous breakdowns in super-powerful robot bodies.” Guess what? I’m not lucky.

Anyway, after the failure of the experiment, William is cornered by his boss, the imaginatively named Jones (John Ortiz). He’s informed that if he can’t perform a breakthrough, his funding will be canceled, so no pressure there. Under mounting pressure at work, what does he do? Go on a family vacation, of course! William packs his family — oldest daughter Sophie (Emily Alyn Lind), middle son Matt (Emjay Anthony), cute-as-a-button youngest daughter Zoe (Aria Lyric Leabu), and his doting wife Mona (Alice Eve) — into the family minivan.

In a very poorly-staged sequence, the Foster family is in a car wreck. Every member of the family is killed, with the exception of William.* He does what many of us would do, which is to call Ed, who is conveniently an expert in cloning. In a film awash in terrible plans, William’s plan is as follows:

Steal cloning pods from the Bionyne facility, which is easy.

Clone the family. Also easy.

Implant the original consciousness of the bodies into the cloned bodies, which is super-easy, barely an inconvenience.**

Discover that there are only four cloning pods and Zoe cannot be cloned, so the memories of her are scrubbed from the family. A piece of cake.

Do things go horribly wrong? Yes, but in the least interesting way possible, so sorry about that.

Guys, Replicas is bad. I would rather reread Twilight than see Replicas again. I would rather watch an entire Trump press conference than see Replicas again. I would rather drive through Missouri than see Replicas again. When people talk about terrible January movies, they can only be referring to Replicas.

Where does the fault truly lie, though? A heaping helping goes to director Jeffrey Nachmanoff, who’s made a film that is visually flat, underlit, and incredibly unimaginative. The film was shot in Puerto Rico with a $30 million budget. What does he have to show for it? A generic-looking upper-middle-class home, a weirdly empty laboratory, and a little bit of jungle. There’s also some truly unfortunate CGI that would feel right at home in Season One of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.***

An even larger heaping helping of blame can be flung at the lousy screenplay by Chad St. John, known for writing the racist and stupid London Has Fallen, and the racist and stupid Peppermint. This script is not racist but it’s twice as stupid. I could harp on the bad dialogue, such as characters throwing around pseudo-scientific nonsense like “bring me the algorithm.” I could harp on the almost non-existent characterization of the Foster family. What personality traits do the kids have? None; so why do we care if they die? The most unforgivable sin of the script is that it takes an intriguing idea, a story about a man who hides the dead bodies of his family and attempts to clone them, and makes it boring. I guarantee you that if I gave you 30 seconds, you would come up with at least three approaches to the material better than what we’ve got. Instead, the script takes intriguing ideas about memory and identity and just shrugs at them.

The cast isn’t great, but I can’t get upset with them since they have a rotten script and poor direction to contend with. Meryl Streep couldn’t make this work. And Keanu? Look, I genuinely like Keanu Reeves. He’s the greatest action star produced in America so far,**** and despite having a limited range, he’s excellent when you cast him within that range. Here, you can see Reeves really, really trying. He’s obsessed, a little charming, and there’s even a scene where grief-stricken, he hilariously curls up with his daughter’s stuffed unicorn. If there had been more bananas acting choices like that, we’d at least have a 30 percent more entertaining movie.

In the last few years, I’ve been working very diligently at having more of an optimistic outlook. While the bad news is that I had to watch Replicas and write about it, there’s a silver lining in this especially dark cloud. In a few short months, John Wick: Chapter 3 will be released. If it can sustain the quality of the previous two films, we’ll have possibly the greatest action trilogy in American film history. Better news? It also means nobody will talk about Replicas ever again.

  *William escapes a horrific car wreck with a minor head injury. This is nowhere near the most ridiculous thing that happens.

**Special thanks to Ryan George. You can check his stuff out here.

***I say that as someone who deeply loves Buffy, but the CGI in some of those early episodes? Woof.

****Seriously! Reeves has done The Matrix trilogy, the John Wick movies, Speed, Point Break, and Constantine. Only Tom Cruise and Harrison Ford can give him a run for his money.

from Blog https://ondenver.com/make-it-stop/