#also I have written AT LEAST 10 full-length essays on him

[canonickero]

Also the sun is ALWAYS in his eyes. He is constantly blinded by the light. He must glare or he will die.

pony thinks steve hates him because steve is always giving him nasty looks but actually steve just has the most aggressive resting bitch face in the world

[biceratops7]

Let’s deconstruct this…

Ok, so at this point I’ve seen a great many things written on Who Ed is with a capital W, and even I’ve thrown bits and pieces of my hat in the ring. But there is one particular thing I have a burning desire to express, and that is, respectfully, Edward’s softness is his own damnit.

There’s a pretty popular notion gaining traction in the fandom that Ed’s softness is just as much a performance as Blackbeard. That him embracing it fully in those brief moments of episode 10 before “the kraken” was unhealthy actually, and he wasn’t being true to himself. In summary: Ed requires Blackbeard to be whole. And my question is: why do people find Ed an unreliable narrator in his softness, or more specifically, why do people think he lacks autonomy of it?

It bothers me when people say that Ed is trying to be like Stede to gain approval in these moments, because the only major similarity I see is aesthetic. Guys a huge theme of the show is older queer men finally finding ways to escape varying forms of toxic masculinity, and understanding that their queerness does not exclude them from manhood. Homogenizing two effeminate gay men and implying that one is “losing himself” to the idiosyncrasies of the other goes directly against this goal. In fact it actually perpetuates negative gay stereotypes, but I’ve made a video essay where I discuss that at length.

Edward writes and performs a song on deck when he wants to process and share his feelings openly. Not only is this waaay more emotional honesty than we ever see Stede express (on purpose at least), but this is a creative outlet unique to Ed. Theatrical story telling is an established motif in Ed’s character the same way literary storytelling is for Stede’s. Edward’s not only dealing with his hurt in a way Stede definitely wouldn’t (he didn’t, Stede went out of his way pretend everything was fine in episode 8), he’s also doing so through an established passion of his.

The Swede wasn’t full of shit when he said that performance can simply be an expression of you. This is not Ed trying to put on a new mask when the old one proved ineffective. This is him finding comfort and even joy in finally using performance to reveal himself instead of hide. I don’t understand why the credit for this beautiful moment of self discovery must be ripped from Ed and used to accuse Stede.

It’s the same with the “SiLk GoWn”. This is the same person who lovingly touches every piece of nice fabric he lays eyes on, and lit up like a fucking Christmas tree the second someone said the word “fashion.” Ed has had a deep love and longing for such a soft pretty thing since day 1. These were ingrained and suppressed in Ed all long before Stede came on the scene. That robe may literally belong to Stede, but just as he wore it as a sign of his newfound boldness under the safety of someone loving him for who he is, Ed’s choice to wear it symbolizes the blossoming autonomy of his own identity. To continue enjoying the things Stede made him feel safe enjoying even without his presence.

Now let’s move on (or backwards I guess?) to the academy. Something I’ve seen a lot is people decrying that Ed is sacrificing his authenticity to play a housewife for Stede. Guys… he just folded some socks, calm tf down. Saying something like this about a gay man just trying to do something small and sweet for someone he loves, again, really seems to perpetuate the toxic masculinity this show hauls ass to deconstruct. Yes the answer to toxic masculinity isn’t just “effeminacy is perfect and good”. But Ed can be genuinely content with finally being able to partake in the domesticity he never got to experience without perpetuating that.

And you know what, he can be unsure of the best way to fulfill that desire and change his mind. I don’t quite like the disregard for Ed’s autonomy when people say his decision to stay at the academy or find an escape is driven only by whatever he thinks Stede wants. He is taking Stede’s feelings into consideration because that is perfectly healthy when you love someone and want a life with them, but his choices are still absolutely driven by his own needs moment by moment too.

I think people really take Ed understandably not wanting to be subjugated by the British and run with it. Like yes he is visibly uncomfortable with the soldiers treating him like an exotic animal they’ve tamed because no shit. But I don’t know how many times Ed has to blatantly state he does not want to be a pirate anymore for it to be believed.

Edward is not an exception to this. Even if he managed to thrive emotionally in this line of work once upon a time and there are aspects of it he enjoys, Ed still became a pirate out of desperation. He didn’t choose it any more than Oluwande and Jim did, he was fleeing poverty and abuse.

It’s not that piracy is a net bad and that Ed should want to distance himself from it. It’s that he assumed piracy is the only option he’s ever had in life even when it hurts him, and the realization that he has the freedom to choose differently is empowering and a net good. Him wanting to run to China with Stede, or take the crew’s funky acts on the road, whether they’re practical or not (especially in this show) is beside the point. The point is Ed’s absolute unbridled joy in their possibilities, the pure delight in discovering that you are not chained to a series of decisions you made under extreme duress 30 years ago.

No, Ed is not doing a complete 180 of his personality during his NoBeard era. He’s been forced to sacrifice his personhood for decades, and is now finally wrestling it out the grasp of thousands of people… at the age of 50 and during two of his darkest moments no less. How absolutely amazing.

[lochtayboatsong]

The Jesus Christ Superstar essay absolutely no one asked for.

Last weekend, I watched the pro-shot of the 2012 arena tour of Jesus Christ Superstar starring Ben Forster, Tim Minchin, and Melanie C, because it was Easter and it was up on YT for the weekend.  I never managed to do my annual listen-through of Leonard Bernstein’s Mass this year, as is my usual Easter tradition, so I figured “Why not watch/listen to this instead?”  It was my first time seeing and hearing JCS in full, and Y’ALL, it has been living rent-free in my brain ever since.  I have a mighty need to get my thoughts out, so here they are, in chronological order by song.  

1) Prologue: I love the way JCS 2012 makes use of the arena video screen.  The production design and concept clearly took a lot of inspiration from the “Occupy ______” movement, which makes it feel a bit dated now.  But every single production of JCS is a product of its time period, so this is a feature and not a bug.  

2) Heaven On Their Minds: This is a straight-up rock song.  It wouldn’t be out of place on any rock and roll album released between 1970 and 2021, and it boggles my mind that Webber and Rice were both in their early twenties when they wrote it.  Also, the lyric “You’ve begun to matter more than the things you say” hits hard no matter the year.

3) What’s the Buzz: A+ use of the arena screens again, this time bringing in social media to set the tone.  Also, this song establishes right from the outset that Jesus is burnt out and T I R E D by this point in the story.  Seriously, can we just let this man have a nap?

4) Strange Thing Mystifying: Judas publicly calls out Mary and Jesus claps back.  Folx, get you a partner who will defend your honor the way Jesus defends MM in this scene.  Also Jesus loses his shoes and is mostly barefoot for the remainder of the show.

5) Everything’s Alright: Okay, this is one of the songs I have A LOT to say about.  First, it’s important to know that I was a church musician throughout all of my adolescence and into my early adulthood.  The pianist at the services I usually played at was a top-notch jazz pianist, and also my piano teacher for about six years while I as in high school and undergrad.  (Incidentally, I had a HUGE crush on his son, who was/is a jazz saxophonist and clarinetist and also played in the church band, but that’s a story for another day.)  One of the hymns we played a few times a year was called “Sing of the Lord’s Goodness,” which is notable for being in 5/4 time.  Whenever this hymn was on the schedule, it was usually the recessional, or the last song played as the clergy processed out and the congregation got ready to leave, so we were able to have some fun with it.  After a couple verses the piano player and his son would usually morph it into “Take Five,” a famous jazz standard by Dave Brubeck which is also in 5/4 time.  Anyway, the first time I listened to this song in full, it got to Judas’s line “People who are hungry, people who are starving,” and I sat bolt upright and went “HOLY SHIT THIS IS ‘SING OF THE LORD’S GOODNESS/TAKE FIVE.’”  And I was ricocheted back in time to being fourteen and trying to keep up with this father/son duo in a cavernous Catholic church while simultaneously making heart-eyes at the son.  Final note: This is the only song in the musical to feature all three leads (Jesus, Judas, and Mary Magdalene) and is mostly Jesus and MM being soft with each other in between bouts of Jesus and Judas snarling at one another.

6) This Jesus Must Die: I LOVE that all the villains in this production are in tailored suits.  LOVE IT.  Also, Caiaphas and Annas are a comedy duo akin to “the thin guy and the fat guy,” except in this case it’s “the low basso profundo and the high tenor.”  Excellent use of the arena video screen again, this time as CCTV.

7) Hosanna: My background as a church musician strikes back again.  It honestly took me two or three listens to catch it, but then I had another moment of sitting bolt upright and going “HOLY SHIT THIS IS A PSALM.”  Psalms sung in church usually take the form of call-and-response, with a cantor singing the verses and the congregation joining in for the chorus.  If I close my eyes during this song, I have no trouble imagining Jesus as a church cantor singing the verses and then bringing the congregation in for the “Ho-sanna, Hey-sanna” chorus. 

8) Simon Zealotes: This is part “Gloria In Excelsis” and part over-the-top Gospel song.  Honestly it’s not my favorite, but it marks an important mood change in the show.  The end of “Hosanna” is probably Jesus at his happiest in the entire show, and then Simon comes in and sours the mood by trying to tip the triumphant moment into a violent one.  Jesus is not truly happy again from this moment on.

9) Poor Jerusalem: Also not my fave.  It kinda reads like Webber and Rice realized that Jesus didn’t have a solo aria in Act I, so they came up with this.  But it has the distinction of containing the lyric, “To conquer death you only have to die,” which is the biggest overarching theme of the story.

10) Pilate’s Dream: Pontius Pilate might be the most underrated role in this entire show, and I love that this production has him singing this song while being dressed in judge’s robes.  

11) The Temple: The first half of this is one of the campiest numbers in Act I, at least in this production, and it’s awesome.  The second half is one of the saddest, as Jesus tries to heal the sick but finds there are too many of them.  Also the whole scene is almost entirely in 7/8 time, which I think is just cool.

12) I Don’t Know How To Love Him: Mary Magdalene’s big aria, and one of the songs I knew prior to seeing the full-length show.  This production has MM taking off her heavy lipstick and eye makeup onstage, mid-song, which is kind of cool.  Melanie C says in a BTS interview that MM’s makeup is her armor, so this is a Big Symbolic Moment.

13) Damned For All Time: The scene transition into this song is played entirely in pantomime, and I love it.  The solo guitarist gets to be onstage for a bit, A+ use of the video screen again to show Judas on CCTV, etc.  Love it.  And then this song is Judas frantically rationalizing what he’s doing, and what he’s about to do, with Caiphas and Annas just reacting with raised eyebrows and knowing looks.

14) Blood Money: This is where the tone of the show really takes a turn for the dark.  I think this might be one of Tim Minchin’s finest moments as Judas, because his facial expressions and microexpressions throughout this scene speak absolute volumes.  And the offstage chorus quietly singing “Well done Judas” as he picks up the money is a positively chilling way to end Act I.

15) The Last Supper: Act II begins with major “Drink With Me” vibes.  (Except JCS came WAY before Les Miz, so it’s probably more accurate to say that “Drink With Me” has major “The Last Supper” vibes.)  Jesus and Judas have their knock-down, drag-out fight, and it’s honestly heartbreaking, thanks again to Tim Minchin’s facial expressions.  A well-done production of JCS will really convey that Jesus and Judas were once closer than brothers, even though their relationship is at breaking point when Act I begins.

16) Gethsemane: This is Jesus’s major showpiece and one of my faves.  Jesus knows he has less than 24 hours to live, he knows he’s going to suffer, and worst of all, he doesn’t know whether it’s going to be worth it.  It’s an emotional rollercoaster to watch and to perform, and it goes on for ages: something like 6 or 7 minutes.  Fun fact: the famous G5 is not written in the score.  Ian Gillan, who played Jesus on the original concept album, just sang it that way, so most subsequent Jesuses have also done it that way.  Lindsay Ellis has a great supercut of this on YT.  John Legend notably sang the line as written during the 2018 concert.  

17) The Arrest: Judas’s Betrayer’s Kiss is played differently across different productions.  The 2012 version is pretty tame - I’ve seen clips and gifs of other productions, including the 2000 direct-to-video version, where they kiss fully on the mouth and have to be dragged apart by the guards and it is THE MOST TENDER THING.  Then the 7/8 riff from “The Temple” comes back and the 2012 version lets the video screen do its thing again as Jesus is swarmed by reporters.

18) Peter’s Denial: Not much to say about this one, as it’s basically a scene transition.  But it’s a significant moment in the Passion story, so I’m glad they included it.

19) Pilate and Christ: The 2012 production continues with the theme of Caiaphas, Annas, and Pilate all being bougie af, since Pilate intentionally looks like he just came from tennis practice during this scene.  Also he does pilates...hehehe.

20) King Herod’s Song: Tim Minchin says in a BTS interview that JCS works best when Jesus and Judas are played seriously and the rest of the production is allowed to be completely camp and wild and bizarre all around them, and he is bloody well CORRECT about that.  Case in point: King Herod.  There is not a single production of JCS that I know of where Herod is played “straight.”  He’s been played by everyone from Alice Cooper to Jack Black, and everyone puts a different zany spin on him.  In JCS 2012 he’s a chat show host in a red crushed velvet suit, who is clearly having the time of his LIFE. 

21) Could We Start Again Please: This is another of my faves.  Just a quiet moment where MM, Peter, and the disciples try to grapple with the fact that Jesus is arrested and things are going very, very badly.  This is also my favorite Melanie C moment of the 2012 show.  Her grief is very real, and the little moment she has with Peter at the end is very real.

22) Death of Judas: This is basically Tim Minchin screaming for about five minutes, and incredibly harrowing to watch on first viewing.  

23) Trial Before Pilate: Possibly my single favorite scene in the entire 2012 production.  This is another harrowing watch, but there’s so much to take in.  The “set” that the entire show takes place on is essentially just a massive staircase, and the people with power are almost always positioned above the people without power.  In this scene, the crowd shouting “Crucify Him!” is positioned above Pilate, which is a very telling clue to Pilate’s psychology during this scene.  Jesus is at the very bottom of the stairs, of course.  Excellent use of the video screen once again during the 39 Lashes, to show the lash marks building and building until the entire screen is a wash of red.  Pilate’s counting also gets more and more frantic, especially starting around “20.”  And all the while the guitar riff from “Heaven On Their Minds” is playing.  Jesus’s line “Everything is fixed and you can’t change it” is played quite differently in different productions - here it’s defiant, but elsewhere (in JCS 2000 for example) it’s almost tender, like Jesus is absolving Pilate for his part in the trial.  But it always ends the same - with Pilate almost screaming as he passes the sentence and “washes his hands” of the whole sorry business. 

24) Superstar: The most over-the-top number in the show.  Judas, who died two scenes ago, comes back to sing this.  There are soul singers.  There are girls in skimpy angel costumes.  The parkour guys from the prologue are back.  Judas pulls a tambourine out of hammerspace midway through the song.  And Jesus is silently screaming and crying as he gets hoisted onto a lighting beam while all this is going on.

25) The Crucifixion: More of a spoken-word piece than a song, it’s Jesus’s final words on the cross over eerie piano music, and another harrowing watch.

26) John 19:41: An instrumental piece in which Jesus is taken from the cross and carried, at last, to the top of the stairs, before being lowered out of sight as the video screen turns into a memorial wall and everything fades to black.

So.  I know I’m anywhere from three to fifty-one years late to this particular party, but I am on the JCS bandwagon now and I’m thoroughly enjoying myself.  :)

[callmeelle22]

Blue Dream III

Pairing: Iris West x Barry Alen

Rating: E

Chapter Word Count: 4, 559

Summary: A series of sporadic dates between Iris and Barry turn into something more, a story in its own making.

Chapter I: Primetime

Chapter II: It's Cool

Chapter III: Anything; It would make sense, she supposes, if looking at her also feels like this for him, like her heart beats in time with every breath he takes and like time slows or stalls or...like every minute here is infinitely longer and in these moments… in these moments, she thinks that the world must somehow tilt on its axis because she feels...i feel you comin' down like honey, do do you even know i'm alive?, do do you even know i, i... she feels… (Read below or on the AO3 link on the chapter title.)

Chapter IV: Comfortable

Chapter V: The Way

Chapter VI: Can't Take My Eyes Off of You

Chapter VII: I'm in Love with You

Chapter VIII: Blue Dream

Anything

Maybe I should kill my inhibition

Maybe I'll be perfect in a new dimension

On the Saturday the week after Barry’s impromptu visit, Iris finds herself down on Main Street about half an hour after 10 in the morning. Nearly the entire 8 blocks of the street are sectioned off, with a plethora of white tents set up on both sides of the street. She glances on as she makes her way down the sidewalk, as people set up books and jewelry and clothes; beer and wine and harder liquor; food and sweets and other treats.

It’s the setup for Central City’s Fall Fest, one of a multitude of fests in the city that Iris calls home. It’ll be open to the public in a few hours and, like usual, Iris will make her way up and down the blocks a few times, holding a beer in one hand and something fried on a stick in the other, a couple of bags filled with things she doesn’t need in the crook of her elbow.

Now, though, she steps into the alley that leads to the side door of Golden’s, an Asian and American fusion restaurant and bar owned by the parents of her best friend, Linda Park. She gives a heavy-handed couple of knocks and only moments later, Linda opens the door to let her in.

Iris first met the other women when they were in the 7th grade. Iris’s parents had divorced several months prior to a new school year and for reasons not then known to Iris, her dad had gotten full custody of her and six-year-old Wally. They’d moved into a new house on the other side of town and that had meant a new school for her. Linda had sat beside her in their homeroom/advisory class and the girl with beige skin and long dark brown hair was constantly scribbling something in a notebook. Iris had discovered that they’d been stories, usually with families as the starring characters. By then, Iris had begun to write in her own notebook—musings and wonderings about the neighbors she’d just met, about what it meant to be the oldest child of divorced parents. They’d bonded over their writing; well, that and being two of only a handful of girls at the school with skin darker than the pale and spray-tanned skin of their classmates.

For over a decade, it’s been Iris and Linda. Through the messy stages of puberty and their even messier interactions with high school boys; through late-night study binges and even worse interactions with college boys. Through the drug addiction that took Iris’s mom and the car crash that had put Linda’s older brother on life support until he’d succumbed to his own injuries, they’ve navigated it all together.

Now, life gets in the way. Linda, almost immediately after undergrad graduation, had begun shopping around a number of short stories and personal essays she had written until, finally, a publisher had bit and opted to publish them as an anthology. A few years and too many nights spent locked in a room later and Linda’s book is a New York Times bestseller. Iris’s own success story is pending. In addition to completing her graduate degree (which, at 26, she’d started late, after taking some time off and working at a local newspaper), she runs a blog, one she’d started by accident. Her middle school musings had become pointed interviews and, with the classes she’d taken in college, had gotten the necessary skills to begin writing up her own human interest stories. It’s amazing, she’s learned, what people will tell you when they can hide behind the face of someone else. What a Life You’ve Lived is growing in popularity, making some money too, and it’s starting to become more than just a hobby for Iris.

Neither Iris nor Linda is ever truly free; but in a concentrated effort to make time, they brunch at least twice a month. This morning, it’s at Golden’s (where Linda is working as a bartender while she writes her next book) because her parents want them to try out new menu items. When the door shuts behind them, Linda turns and gives Iris a hug, wrapping her arms around her neck. Iris returns it, smiling into her hair, her familiar lavender scent a warm comfort she didn’t know she needed.

“I’ve missed your beautiful face,” Linda says, squeezing her hard once before letting her go.

“Yeah?” Iris asks, mouth lifting in a smirk. “Is it because you’re tired of looking at Daniel’s beautiful face?”

Linda rolls her eyes. “Never, though I’d rather put my eye out before I tell him that.”

Linda has been dating her boyfriend Daniel Ngyuen, nerdy engineer and man ridiculously head over heels for her, for a few months, after they met at a book signing hosted by Linda’s parents.

“You’re ridiculous,” Iris tells her, and Linda preens in response.

Something in Iris tightens, a faint film of green clouding her view for all of a millisecond. She’s ashamed she even had the thought, that she feels anything but happiness at the light in her friend’s chocolate brown eyes or the glow in her cheeks. She’s not jealous of Linda, of course she’s not. But Iris can’t help but find some envy at the feeling of contentment that so obviously surrounds her friend and the juxtaposition of her own drifting existence.

It’s almost tangible, these differences, at least to her. Iris can see the confidence practically emanating from Linda’s dress-clad form, the long-sleeved maxi dress and tall sandals, her wavy shoulder-length hair, making her look a little like a goddess. But Iris imagines that’s what it must look like, to be at the start of a career you’ve always wanted, to have the love of a man you’re secure in, to just...know your place, your purpose.

And maybe Iris is being dramatic. She supposes she looks as put together as she’s always thought she needed to be in her light denim jeans, pale pink cropped sweater, and tan block-heeled sandals. She’s been wearing her natural hair out this week and the wavy curls are piled up in an artfully messy bun. Still, even if Iris can’t touch on why she feels so scattered, like all of the pieces that make up the whole of her are floating aimlessly around her body, she cannot deny that the feeling is there, taking up space in her head like the songs she latches on to keep focused, maybe I should pray a little harder, or work a little smarter.

They walk through the restaurant, bustling with the waitstaff preparing for the 11 am opening. Golden’s isn’t an overly large place, only able to fit about 50 people at a time, but Iris thinks it’s a part of the charm. It’s decorated in dark brown wood and bright white and gold light fixtures; the tables and booths are spread out in a way that allows for privacy, making customers feel as if they’re in their own little worlds.

Linda leads them to their usual table, one actually tucked into a little alcove where only the Parks and their guests are allowed to sit. At the table, there’s already a carafe of juice too close to red-pink to be orange juice, along with a bottle of champagne. Outside of the wine and marijuana Friday nights and the occasional party or club, Iris only really indulges in alcohol when she and Linda have these brunches. They slide into the booth and Linda immediately reaches for the champagne.

Over the next couple of hours, Iris is reminded of why, regardless of her own issues, she loves his woman. They laugh, sharing stories of Iris’s students and the customers who come into Golden’s. They get on each other’s nerves, making jokes and ribbing the other any chance they get. At one point, Linda’s parents come out, her honey-skinned Chinese mother Xuan and her dad Theo, Chinese and white with skin like baked sugar cookies, and Iris blinks adoringly up at the both of them, always lost in their beauty—both tall and elegant with ridiculous cheekbones.

“It’s sickening,” Linda mutters as she watches Iris watch them walk away, “how you look at them.”

“I’ve had a crush on your parents for as long as I’ve known them,” Iris replies. “If they ever want a thre-”

“Don’t you finish that fucking statement,” Linda gripes and Iris howls in laughter until Linda points out the attractiveness of Iris’s own father. “You know I’d always hop on the chance to be your stepmom.”

“And I’d happily sabotage your wedding day.”

“But it’d be worth it when I got to climb on top of Daddy West during the honeymoon.”

Iris throws a strawberry at her.

She hears him before she sees him. She’s been at Fall Fest for only about twenty minutes after leaving Golden’s, full and tipsy, walking through the steadily filling streets. Of all of the festivals in Central City, of which there are several (seasonal fests like the Fall and Spring fests; food fests like the Food Truck and Italian Food fests; cultural fests like the Juneteenth and Hispanic Heritage fests), the Fall Fest is one of her favorites. It’s during the best time of the year, when the sun is still blazing but the wind cuts through the heat. When the leaves have begun to drift off trees and dance onto the ground, changing into the shades of yellow and orange and red that only nature can paint. When the booths run the gamut in what they sell, from cooked and packaged foodstuffs, to clothes and jewelry, to dance or golf lessons. It’s the one festival, besides the Pan-African Celebration, that their entire family would attend, even for a few years after the divorce. Her parents would take off work and put aside their differences to spend time together--until Wally had felt too old and her dad had needed too many more work hours and her mom had gotten too lost; and then Iris had started coming with Linda and then, this year, alone.

But she doesn’t dwell—she tries not to dwell these days—and besides, she’s just heard him.

He doesn’t sound any different in the light of the day. In her head, she keeps hearing him as he is in the throes of passion, when his voice is more of a throaty curse, when it’s a rumble against her heated flesh. Here, out here with children screaming from their blocked-off sections and ladies laughing as they smell through candle selections and men arguing from the faux sports bars set up at random tents, he should sound like anyone else. He shouldn’t even be heard over the music coming from the speakers they can’t see—down for the ride, down for the ride; you could take me anywhere; do do do down for the ride, down for the ride; you could take me anywhere; i hope you will, I hope you will, I hope you will—or the sheer noise that’s true for events like this. But he is.

She looks up, ignoring the woman still trying to convince her to buy a bottle or three of perfume, and she sees him, right at the booth beside hers. He’s with two other men, one shorter with light brown skin and dark brown eyes and black hair pulled back in a ponytail; the other only a bit taller than the friend, with skin darker than Iris’s, glasses, and a short afro. Iris vaguely thinks that the three of them together are some sort of setup for a bar joke. They’re dressed similarly, in pants and t-shirts, though Iris’s eyes catch onto Barry’s hunter green chinos and white shirt, the beige pocket square matching his desert boots. All three of them have relatively full beers in their hands and Iris is looking at the cup in Barry’s hand (or rather, his fingers wrapped around the cup) for about three seconds before it jerks, beer spilling out. She looks up to find he’s looking back at her too, muttering “Iris,” in surprise.

She watches her hand and smiles back at him, a bit awkwardly, stepping away from the booth where the woman has already moved on to a new customer.

“Hi Barry,” she responds, walking over to them. She spares a glance at the other two, the Black man looking at her curiously, the Latino man a bit more humorously. “Fancy seeing you here.”

It’s not her smoothest line, but Iris thinks she might be in shock. When he’d left her, again, before she woke up on Saturday morning, she’d found his number written in tiny handwriting on the notepad on her desk, the unimaginative “call me” scribbled beneath it. She hadn’t. She’d thought about; oh had she.

On Monday, she’d debated calling him up to grab a coffee during her break. On Wednesday, she’d gotten an email about a new story and she’d wondered, for a moment, what he might think about it. But then she’d thought of his sweet mouth telling her “I wanted to know if it was as good as my memory,” and she had decided that he likely wouldn’t care about her days.

Now, he gives her a thorough once-over, probably remembering, and Iris feels a flush of heat run through her that she knows has very little to do with the warm late September sun.

“Iris,” he says again, his voice a touch higher than normal. His companions look at each other, eyebrows raised.

“Iris,” the long-haired one repeats, laughter coloring his tone. “I’m Cisco.”

“And I’m Chester,” says the one with dark skin, and they both stand there looking at her, grinning like loons until Barry cuts in.

“Alright, stop being weird.”

They don’t. Barry rolls his eyes and pushes past them to stand in front of her. Even with the heels she’s wearing, she has to stretch her neck a little to look up at him.

“Hey,” he says, this time lower, a soft breeze on her skin.

“Hi,” she repeats, just as softly.

The sounds of the carnival don’t disappear so much as they become muted, such as if she were submerged in water or if there was a rushing in her ears, because everything becomes background noise save for the concentrated sound of his voice.

“You didn’t call,” he says to her.

“I—” she starts, but she’s got nothing to say, not anything that won’t make her sound needy or desperate.

“Hey Barry,” Cisco calls.

“Yeah?” Barry answers, but he doesn’t turn away from her. No, he’s looking at her still, assessing her almost. He’s trying to figure something out, she decides, or at least that’s how it seems, what with the way he stares so intently, blue-green eyes pouring into her, bringing up images of them staring up at her from between her thighs, bringing out impressions that feel like more than lust, like more than just two people who’ve only ever bared their bodies to each other.

“We’re gonna go to another tent,” Chester says. “Catch up with you later.”

“Alright,” is the reply, those eyes glittering like the sea in the afternoon sun, still fixed on her. There’s a slight frown to his mouth, and when he speaks again, she can’t tell if he’s reached his conclusion or not.

“Walk with me?”

She nods before she even thinks about it. “Sure.”

They start back down the path. The booths are in abundance this year; it’s a bigger festival than she’s seen before. For a while, they don’t talk. They walk side by side, arms brushing every so often, stopping at booths that catch their attention. For him is a booth with a variety of multi-piece puzzles, some featuring landscapes and gardens, others of the solar system or space. For her, it’s one selling notebooks, beautiful leather-bound journals. She stops, enthralled, picking up one in coral-colored leather with rose-gold edging.

“We can also engrave the name,” the sun-tanned woman with pale blonde hair behind the tent says. “Or you can order custom colors.”

Iris nods, murmurs, “these are really nice,” and continues flipping through the heavy cream paper in the coral notebook. These days, much of her writing gets done on her overused Macbook; it’s just easier that way. But when she writes, for herself—little anecdotes about her day, her feelings spelled out in poetry—she does so in notebooks like these.

“You’re a writer,” Barry wonders and it’s a statement as much as it’s a question.

“Yeah.” She looks up at him and nods. “I’m actually getting my master’s in journalism.”

She puts the journal down once she notes the $40 price tag and thanks the woman as they walk off, Iris looking back at the notebook with longing.

“I also run a blog,” she tells him, and the words tumbling out of her mouth are a shock.

“Really?” he looks at her in surprise. “What’s the site? Is it popular?”

It’s not like she’s embarrassed of her blog or anything, but it feels different, to tell people she knows about her work. Because it’s one thing for strangers to read what she types out in earnest, and in tears and in vulnerability, but it’s something altogether different for people she knows to do the same. They aren’t her stories, not actually, but they are always her words, always her emotions she puts into them, and it feels too, too telling somehow.

“It’s growing in popularity,” she tells him, because she’s the one who opened this can of worms. “It’s called What a Life You’ve Lived.”

He hums, like that means something to him, but before she can ask what, two kids come barreling through the aisle. Iris tries to step out of the way and she slips, her heel catching in a small crack in the asphalt. Her knees buckle, but before she can hit the ground, Barry’s arms are around her. One of his large hands holds onto her, pressed against the bare skin of her belly, and then she’s pressed fully against him.

It’s absurd how much she likes the feel of him—the slim but corded muscles in his arms, the apparent strength in his fingers; and she likes the smell of him too, the faint hint of his laundry detergent mixed with the heat of the sun mixed with the citrus of his cologne. It’s another moment (™), which doesn’t make sense because he’s only just caught her from falling. But he’s looking at her like there is more in her gaze besides the brown of her irises, the flutter of her lashes. It would make sense, she supposes, if looking at her also feels like this for him, like her heart beats in time with every breath he takes and like time slows or stalls or...like every minute here is infinitely longer and in these moments… in these moments, she thinks that the world must somehow tilt on its axis because she feels...i feel you comin' down like honey, do do you even know i'm alive?, do do you even know i, i...she feels…

“Are you alright?”

Barry’s voice is quiet, too quiet for the energy they’re surrounded by. And maybe she doesn’t even hear it as she does read the movement of his pink mouth.

“Yeah, I am.”

He straightens, then, and gives her a half-smile. “You know, Iris, if you wanted to fall all over me, you could have just called.”

He likely had been trying for levity, but it’s pointed, right there at the end. She steps away from him and he lets her, his fingers sliding along the small of her back until they’re no longer on her skin. It leaves her cold

(only that can’t be true, because it’s far too warm out)

and she watches as he stuffs his hands into his pockets.

“I was waiting on your call, Iris.”

They've moved into a corner where the direction of the festival booths turn right. Straight ahead of them is a 21+ section; it features a stage where performances will begin around 5 as well as a number of makeshift bar stations. There’s a similar set-up with kid-friendly activities on the other side of the festival. Barry’s friends are standing at one of the bar stations talking to two women, both with chestnut-brown skin and long kinky hair. Iris’s eyes shift to take in the rest of her surroundings, to the sound of people laughing and the couples holding hands and the families who seem elated to be together on a day like today.

When she turns back, Barry is patiently watching her, head tilted to the side, expression thoughtful, like it always tends to be.

“Have dinner with me tonight,” Barry suggests “We can walk around some more. And once we get sun-tired, I can take you to this spot that I like nearby and we can talk. Maybe about why you didn’t call.”

She licks her lips, pulls the bottom one between her teeth. She hedges, long enough to tell herself that this would be a foolish endeavor, that she should just say no, that he’s nice and cute and what harm would it do. But, really, when he asks, those cyan eyes gleaming and his cheeks faintly pink and his face so goddamn hopeful it almost makes her look away, she really has no other choice.

“Okay, sure.”

She doesn’t tell him why she doesn’t call.

What she does is tell him about her dad and how she’s always been in awe of him, of his grace and his strength and the lessons he’d taught her. She tells him about Wally, who’s brilliant and searching, trying to figure out his way (not unlike her, though this she doesn’t say). She tells him about Linda, her sister in all of the ways that count, who’s always with her, even when she isn’t. And when he asks, because of course he does, she tells him about her mother who was beautiful and kind, all the way until sickness took her away.

She tells him this because he tells her first, about a larger-than-life father whose proximity to wrong-doing bureaucrats had landed him in prison, and an easy-going mother whose life had ended because someone else had been desperate for the money in her purse.

They do indeed walk around ‘til they’re tired, until around 6. Then Barry takes her to a little American bistro where they pride themselves on grass-fed meats and homegrown vegetables. They devour burgers the size of their heads and a mountain of fries that deserve their own table. He stuffs her with food and a piece of pie after, and he asks her some questions. He wants to know her favorite color and the television show she’s currently watching and if she’s always wanted to be a writer: yellow and Bridgerton and only since her parents’ divorce, when she’d needed to know that hers was only a unique story—or maybe she had needed confirmation that it wasn’t. She wonders about his dream job, his favorite hobby, the one thing he wishes he could do: forensic scientist, which he is, amateur theater, and getting his dad out of prison. That opens up a space for more convolution than should be allowed on a first date, and so she asks him more about amateur theater.

After, he walks her back to where her car is parked past Golden’s. When they get there, he listens for the sound of her car alarm, and then he turns her around, pressing her back against her car door. He walks closer, a hand at her waist, the other reaching up to cup the back of her neck, thumb circling lightly around her throat.

“Thank you for dinner,” she whispers. “I had a really nice time.”

“Yeah?” His mouth ticks up, that half-smile that is somehow both charming and a little bit maddening. “Enough that I might get a kiss?”

She tilts her head as if in thought, even as she gives in to her desire to touch him too, reaching up to finger at the faint moles dotting her cheeks. She only barely nods her acquiescence when he closes whatever distance is left and kisses her. Iris is always surprised by how warm his mouth is, by how sweet he tastes. He tastes like the apple pie they had earlier, but also like early sunset coffee on cool fall mornings and like how slow sex in the middle of the night feels.

He’s gentle in some ways, his mouth moving slow against hers, his tongue licking into her mouth like he’s trying to find life inside of her. But he’s a little rough too, squeezing at her waist so he won’t fondle her in the middle of the street, tightening his hold on her throat, only a little, but enough that Iris begins to feel the action in the throb of her sex. They kiss, eyes closed, her own fingers scratching at the nape of his neck, her hips thrusting against his in time to the flick of his tongue across her bottom lip, until she feels the swell of his dick against her belly and her loud moan tears him away from her.

“Fuck Iris,” he all but growls, licking his lips as he looks her over, a little wrecked. She hadn’t even realized she was doing it, playing with the soft strands of his hair, until she notices it’s all messy, matching the state of his swollen mouth, his wrinkled skirt, the heavy dent in the center of his pants. She wonders what she looks like.

“Get in the car, baby.”

Wide-eyed at the endearment outside of sex, Iris does as he tells her to, sliding in and buckling up before he closes the door. When the purr of her engine starts, he motions for her to roll her window down. She does, waiting as he plants his elbow on top of the car, bending his lean frame down so that his face is level with her.

He smiles softly at her. “Go out with me next Sunday.”

She bites at her lip, if only to give herself another moment to breathe. Because this date would be moving beyond a two-night stand, beyond an impromptu date, far beyond kissing on the side of the street.

“What time on Sunday?”

“Early afternoon,” he says and leans in even closer. “I’ll pick you up.”

She nods before she can talk herself out of it, even if she knows that she should. Barry motions for her with a crook of one of his long fingers, and it makes her think of what’s been playing in her head, of down for the ride, down for the ride; you can take me anywhere, and when she comes to, he places a sweet kiss on her mouth.

“I’ll see you next week,” he says, pulling away slowly.

And then Iris watches him—his strong and assured walk, his compelling and commanding aura—until she can’t see him anymore.

Do do do down for the ride, down for the ride

You could take me anywhere

I hope you will, I hope you will, I hope you will

[10oclockdot]

10oclockdot 2020 year in review

As I seem to drift farther and farther from tumblr (though the #Peace posts and my side project on On Kawara keep a thin tether attached), 2020 actually saw me stepping more solidly into my stated vocation as an academic, even if I also lost my job as a university professor this year. Trying to look on the bright sides.

Here we go:

10. I got my first properly peer-reviewed article accepted for publication in 2020. After 2 years of submitting to journals and a protracted review process, “Why is Reverse Motion Funny?: Happy End and the Comic Potential of the Cinematographic Mechanism” was accepted by Journal of Film and Video for publication... TBA. Based on some gossip I read online later, I might be waiting upwards of two years for the article to ever come out. But hopefully not. Either way, it was accepted, and that’s at least something for the CV.

9. Will DiGravio’s excellent The Video Essay Podcast (here) was a great companion this summer while I was working on a big project (see #1), and just for fun I decided to complete some “homework” he assigned on the podcast. My submission is here. Everyone else’s submissions are here.

8. Early in the year, I updated a compilation of all the times John Ford used the hymn “Shall We Gather at the River” in one of his films. An eagle-eyed YouTuber found one more. Here’s the new version.

7. When some prominent Math YouTubers put out a call for videos on favorite numbers greater than a million -- aka #MegaFavNumbers -- I couldn’t see a reason not to join in, and made this video, based on one of my old tumblr posts. In it I also mention that as of late 2019 I’m also published on the Online Encyclopedia of Integer Sequences. Not sure if I ever mentioned that here. Anyway, contributing a #MegaFavNumber seems like a fitting project for a year in which I also became a math tutor. (Here’s the full playlist.)

6. I didn’t make much art this year of note, but this bit of constrained poetry executed as a 10-part conceptual painting is easily one of the best and most important artworks I’ve ever made (if any could be assigned importance).

5. I finally watched Twin Peaks: The Return. Here’s a post I made about that, which somehow became the most popular new thing on the blog this year. Aphelis also liked this gif I made for him. Nobody seemed to understand this post (or maybe I just think it’s better than it is), but that’s okay, I guess.

4. I started a new video essay series called “Video Postcards.” There are only two so far (”About Time,” and “Drone Swarms”), but the idea is to keep making them on a regular basis (monthly, maybe?). The concept is that each video is addressed to a friend of mine, and I weigh in on some topic that we’re both interested in and have talked about before. I actually SEND the addressee the postcard you see me writing in the video, with the link written out on it. After they view this private video correspondence, they get to decide whether the rest of the world will get to see it too. So far 2 for 2.

3. It was hard to write much that was meaningful this year politically (at least, it was hard for me). But I still wrote a short story that I’m proud of called Somewhere in the middle of an angry mob in Jerusalem, ca. 2000 years ago (here). I wish every Evangelical Christian in the country (my heritage) would read it. Oh, I also drew this cartoon about who establishment democrats really are. Oh, and this diagram over on Facebook about the inscrutable slowness of the apocalypse.

2. My first professional publication came in the form of a long data-driven article for Bright Lights Film Journal that dropped back in January: “Tracking Mass Ideology on IMDb’s Top 250: How Shifts in Societal Values Appear in the Popular Film Canon” (here). The Bright Lights people were so easy to work with that I’m looking forward to writing another article for them in the new year, if they’ll take it. This article even drew the attention of the great film reviewer Darren Mooney (of the m0vie blog), who invited me to record an episode of his podcast The 250 (here) on Sherlock, Jr. (Buster Keaton, 1924). We taped it a couple months ago, but it should land in the new year. I’ll share it here when it does. 

1. And, of course, after three years of work and a rejection from [in]Transition, my first feature-length project, a video essay called A Supercut of Supercuts: Aesthetics, Histories, Databases, was accepted for publication at Open Screens Journal. It should be live in January. I’ve also sent it out to some film festivals with what little money I could scrape together for that purpose. Hopefully at least one of them wants to play it, so I can add some laurels to that poster!

See you next year!

[what-the-fuck-is-anime]

This kid is so fucking strong. He know this is going to get him hit, but he tries to hold his father responsible in a world where nobody else has.

This post contains talk of medical abuse, mental illness, and forced hospitalization.

Sending her to the hospital...it was deliberate. His dad must have been so happy to have an excuse to send her to a hospital. Her one outburst of terrible violence will forever overpower any of her claims regarding her husband’s ongoing violent abuse and manipulation. The media will never believe her about the abuse. They will frame her as incoherent, violent, and hysterical. This was all written to be as deliberate and as evil as possible to emphasize the extent to which this child is trapped. His mother returns from the hospital, inevitably not having been believed. And now she never will be, and she knew it, and that was probably why she was trying to call her mom. To try to avoid having the stigma of mental illness. In Japan, the nail that sticks up gets hammered down. Mental illness stigma is much worse there, and the views surrounding mental illness are different than many other places in the world. And now whenever either of them act up, the second most physically powerful man on the planet gets to threaten them with forced hospitalization because the whole world knows his mom went to a psych hospital. He may even claim she caused whatever abuse she tries to get help for. The threat of forced hospitalization is an extremely common abuse tactic. He uses hospitals as a weapon. He uses getting help as a weapon. Now he can beat up his son as much as he wants, and he may never want to go to the hospital because that was the place that took mom, and he may not be able to make the distinction between general hospitals and psychiatric hospitals. “Hospital” was the bad place that mom was forced to go to. And when he came home from the ER, his mother was taken from him. He may suffer he may hide illness he may never speak up about pain because he seems to only be around 5 or 6

WARNING

The purpose of the following is to begin to attempt to begin understanding the plight of Todoroki’s mother in terms of Japanese culture and viewpoints. I researched and highlighted some specific aspects of mental illness and psychiatric care in Japan that may not have been considered or otherwise known by a foreign audience. Most of my sources are in English, and a huge number of them are scientific or otherwise academic in nature, so while they are in no way a one stop shop about Japanese culture so to speak, they are quick notes about what I found interesting and potentially relevant to the situation. The content below this point may be difficult to read, and although I included the warning at the top, this is the part where it may get more difficult beyond this point. If you are sensitive to reading medical abuse or stigma surrounding mental illness, I do not recommend reading further.

While many things are lost in translation in terms of cultural differences, it is my opinion that even slightly understanding some aspects of psychiatric care in Japan as well as the attitude towards mental illness are essential to understanding the struggle of Todoroki and his mother in context, and the power that his father holds over the two of them after sending her there. While there are many other important cultural differences that may change the impact of Todoroki’s backstory depending on who is interpreting it, the stark differences between Japanese psychiatric care compared to what I am familiar with as an American stuck out to me as something that is probably less likely to be known by the average anime viewer. I realized I had no perspective on what psychiatric care meant in Japan, so I decided to investigate.

Many sources include clarification for other claims that may appear unsourced, as well as often referencing certain aspects of Japanese culture that appear unsourced. The following is not a scientific paper, nor is it anywhere near a complete representation of psychiatric care in Japan, and should not be treated as anything more than an extremely casual anime essay that I spent a disproportionate amount of time on trying to research statistics in order to put the suffering of Todoroki’s mother into perspective, and the weight carried by a threat of forcible hospitalization in Japan, and give insight into what this may mean in terms of the source culture.

How long she was likely gone, what she may have experienced, and the transition from being physically controlled by her husband to being physically controlled within a hospital. I am not from Japan, most of my readers are not from Japan, so the ways in which we may be inclined to interpret the situation and its impact are entirely through the lenses of our own local cultures. My focus was mostly on facts and results from studies, which while easily citable, are again in no way a full picture of anything; I am not a good source for Japanese culture, this is not a good place to read about it fully, and if you try to use this as an educational resource well, uh, stop that. Beyond condemning a few specific practices, this is also not intended in any way to be a criticism of Japanese culture, but rather, a focus on a bunch of statistics and facts that I thought pertinent to this scene in My Hero Academia. Another important point here is the fact that there is an extremely limited number of English resources regarding Japanese psychiatric practices compared to ones entirely in Japanese, and not even the laws are officially translated, specifically the laws and reforms regarding mental health. One important thing I want to note is that given how nightmarish Todoroki’s situation seems altogether and how much effort is put into making it as bad as possible, I am inclined to believe that his mother’s experience in the hospital was also intended to be on the more negative, potentially leaning towards worst or at the very least worse-than-average spectrum of experiences. My speculation reflects that.

END WARNING

Todoroki’s mom was so scared, she knew she needed to seek help to the point she asked help from people who forced her into the situation, but now that he forcibly hospitalized her, now that she acted out, now that he framed her as this inherently and consistently horrible violent person, the hospital could justify doing whatever they want to her. Japan is one of the last places in the world that uses physical restraints in psychiatric hospitals, and they use them very frequently alongside heavy sedation and otherwise high doses of drugs. Violent patients and patients with histories of violence are treated much, much worse on average, and she entered the hospital directly after having attacked her son. There is, to some extent, fear of mental illness and the mentally ill in Japan, especially in terms of those with histories of violence.

Even though Todoroki’s mother knows just how much she has been hurt and how much danger she and her son are in from her husband, they evidently never believed her, or at least never got her out of there. They may have called any claims of abuse acting out, they may have called it more evidence of her violence or her trying to blame her own assumed tendency towards violence on her innocent virtuous husband, they may have called her hysterical and drugged her even more, maybe even until she stopped claiming her husband was violent and abusive. After all, he is a top hero and has immeasurable influence, he very well also could have bribed or charmed the doctors just like he did everyone else to disregard his abuse and silence her. The doctors may be led to believe that her claims of abuse were delusions, and that she was suffering from a delusion when she attacked her son, so the goal for their treatment may have actually been to explicitly end those “delusions” of abuse to avoid future violence.

Another example of how much power Todoroki’s dad has is how he managed to get her admitted to a psychiatric hospital in the time it took Todoroki to come home from the ER thanks to his political influence. Involuntary admission in Japan requires politician approval. Additionally, who would believe her that she was not the consistently violent one? She brutally attacked her child with boiling water, after all. Surely it must have been the result of her mental illness to accuse him of any abuse, as the trustworthy top hero may have even warned the doctors, so surely all she needed was more drugs until her alleged delusions subsided. She attacked her son due to a claim that she was traumatized by her husband’s abuse, which he surely denied. The fact that he sent her to a psychiatric hospital instead of jail could have been seen as an act of mercy, when it truly was just to ensure he could manipulate her as long as possible, and the fact that having his wife arrested would have been a worse hit on his reputation than having her sent to a hospital. Plus, being charged with a crime might give her the opportunity to have him investigated. Regardless of how her claims of abuse were handled, nothing was done. Now she is scarier to the public than the man who deserved to be locked up a long time ago.

In 2017, a New Zealand man died from a heart attack after being restrained for 10 days in a Japanese psychiatric hospital and developing deep vein thrombosis (DVT) due to the restraints. 10 days not being allowed to leave the bed, to the point a blood clot developed, went entirely unaddressed, and resulted in a heart attack. The average time spent in medical restraints in Japanese psychiatric hospitals is 96 days. Yes, 3 months. Almost everywhere else in the world, that figure is a few hours if any. The source of the average length of time spent in restraints seems to be entirely written in Japanese, and while I was unable to directly read that particular report, I verified that it has been cited by numerous advocacy groups and news sources, and I spent hours comparing it to general information regarding physical restraints in Japan. Deep vein thrombosis is common for restrained patients in Japan, and use of restraints is on the rise. In 2013, about 29% of all psychiatric patients in Japan were placed in restraints (10,299 patients out of a total of around 297,000). Violent patients are more likely to be restrained.  According to a 2014 study of a Tokyo hospital, over 11% of patients in restraints develop deep vein thrombosis. And that study was performed with patients wearing compression stockings and receiving regular injections of unfractionated heparin (UFH), both of which reduce the overall chance of a blood clot. Those precautions are not enforced across Japan and may be exclusive to this study. So without those precautions, the general rate of developing DVT from these restraints is likely much higher.

Japan has the highest ratio of psychiatric beds to population in the world. In Japan, hospitals are viewed as long-term care facilities, so while a psychiatric stay in America might be a few weeks, in Japan it can be years. In 2008, the average length of stay in a psychiatric hospital was 290 days. Involuntary admission is associated with an even longer length of stay, and involuntary admissions between April 2014 and March 2016 were about 35% of total admissions. There is no legal upward limit of involuntary hospitalization in Japan. Involuntary hospitalization is initiated by the prefectural governor, with no guaranteed timeline for psychiatric assessment. Japan has on average four times the average involuntary hospitalization rate as other OECD countries.

As a result of research into restraints in Japan, I found https://www.norestraint.org/ , a Japanese advocacy website aimed to improve psychiatric care and campaign for the end of restraints in Japanese psychiatric hospitals. With the help of Google Translate, the page describes how some people in charge of psychiatric associations in Japan believe doctors should be given guns, which are extremely illegal in Japan. It also gives a visual on some types of restraint used. Japan has high rates of high dose medication and forced sedation, electroconvulsive therapy, and isolation in these psychiatric facilities. “Megadosing” is abundant, in that patients are given heavy doses of medicine until they are no longer resistant or are otherwise considered quiet, partially to compensate for understaffing. There are commonly not enough workers in these facilities, and high doses of drugs are often used to make patients more compliant instead of hiring more workers. The psychiatric hospitals in Japan are also mostly privately owned. In researching these statistics, I encountered countless stories demonstrating the worst possible scenarios. These experiences are again not necessarily indicative of the average hospital stay in Japan, and these statistics only represent very specific aspects of medical procedure within Japanese psychiatric hospitals, and are in no way “complete” representations of an average stay or the attitudes of all psychiatric healthcare professionals. However, one thing that came up repeatedly is the idea that some aspects of an individual’s stay can be influenced at the request of the family, including requesting longer time spent in restraints and longer stays.

In Japan, the views regarding mental illness differ greatly from the western model, which likely contributes to the contrast between their physical and psychiatric healthcare. A survey published in 2006 comparing the outlook towards mental illness between Australia and Japan presented four stories describing individuals with major depression, major depression with suicidal thoughts, early schizophrenia, and chronic schizophrenia, and then asked the respondents several questions regarding them. These stories were translated multiple times between English and Japanese to ensure that the translations were accurate. When asked to describe what the individuals in the story were experiencing, the results illustrated a Japanese preference towards phrases like “emotional problems” compared to the Australian survey. This same survey also demonstrated just how heavily family and community are expected to participate in the caretaking of those with mental illness in Japan, with nearly 2-3x the Japanese respondents saying that the individuals in the examples given would be best helped by their families, with more emphasis on the individual recognizing their own problems compared to the Australian responses. In terms of professional help, while the Australian participants largely recommended seeing a general doctor, the Japanese participants pointed towards counselors and psychiatrists.

In terms of what would not be viewed as helpful for the individuals in the stories, there was a significant disparity between the countries. In terms of depression, 87.3% of Australian respondents believed that a general doctor would be helpful, compared to only 30.4% in Japan. 35.4% of Australians surveyed said that a pharmacist would be helpful for the individual with depression, while in Japan only 6.8% believed a pharmacist would be helpful, with 22-23.6% actually saying that pharmacists would be harmful compared to about 8.1-8.7% in Australia. These responses were similar across all four examples. Roughly thrice the Japanese respondents believed that tranquilizers were beneficial across all conditions compared to Australia. Australia showed a heavy preference towards vitamins, with over 50% believing vitamins being beneficial to the individual with depression. In terms of medications being harmful, Australia leaned heavily towards calling tranquilizers, sleeping pills, and antipsychotics as harmful while significantly less Japanese respondents (roughly half as much or less) thought their application could be harmful to the individuals in the stories.

There was significant doubt towards the abilities of the individuals in the stories to recover in the Japanese survey, for example, just 7.4% believed that the individual with depression could make a full recovery even with professional help, compared to 37.3% in Australia. The Japanese survey leaned heavily towards individuals with professional help making progress, but with relapse. While the results are over 10 years old and there has been much change in society since then, I personally just thought the numbers were really cool.

More recently, a 2013 paper attempted to summarize the results of 19 papers regarding mental illness stigma in Japan published since 2001. Chronic schizophrenia was singled out as being viewed as especially dangerous in Japan, largely due to fear of violence, despite not many people being able to accurately identify it in practice. Medication for mental illness was generally poorly understood, with relatively few believing in the effectiveness of antidepressants as a whole. Friends and family were most commonly considered helpful, followed by counselors. Fear of schizophrenia in Japan was prevalent across multiple studies and statistics. Overall, Japan had more stigma than Australia and Taiwan, but less than China. The analysis mentioned that in Japan, personality is more commonly seen as a cause of mental illness than circumstance and biological factors. The findings suggested that the chronic institutionalization of those with mental illness may play a role in the stigma of mental illness, in that more frequent contact with and education about mental illness is associated with better outcomes in regards to acceptance.

Mental illness is commonly thought of in Japan as something that cannot be recovered from. Meaning, someone who has been labeled with a mental illness may never be viewed the same by society. This stigma played a role in why Todoroki’s mother took so long to seek out help, and why she waited until it got so bad to reach out. Mental illness is often seen as a loss of self-control, families are expected to care for mentally ill individuals, and there is a resistance to seeking out professional help beyond counselors. This plays a factor in why sending her to a hospital was an act of abuse on the part of Todoroki’s father within the context of Japanese culture. Although attacking Todoroki with boiling water was an extreme act of violence, general expectations are to discuss within the family how to address mental illness before seeking out a professional, or to at least look into a counselor, both which should have happened long ago. The process is not necessarily the same after an assault, but again, the family discussion should have happened a long time ago.

Todoroki’s mother reached out to her own family for help with what she was experiencing even though they were the ones that gave her to him for the sole purpose of bearing powerful children and were aware of the ongoing abuse for a while. They put her there. They did not get her out of there despite his constant physical abuse, either. She spoke about the situation on the phone as if they already knew. And evidently they also never backed up her claims of her husband actively hurting her and her son, since Todoroki never mentioned him getting investigated or them splitting up afterwards. She tried to seek mental counsel from a group of people who sold her for her Quirk as a readily available womb, because regardless of how they treated her, family is still expected to help. In that same sense, Todoroki’s father was supposed to attempt to help as well. Which would essentially involve telling him to stop being abusive, because it was evidently the trauma from his abuse that eventually led to the outburst. Obviously he did not want to do that. He wanted to punish her for acting out. Out of the frying pan and into the fire. Had he truly done this as an act of kindness, he would have changed. He did not, because he is an abusive shithead. As mentioned above, involuntary hospitalization requires authorization from local politicians, so the fact that he is a top hero plays an enormous role in exactly how easily and quickly he managed to get his wife committed. He could easily have her held longer, or re-committed should she ever act out again or even try to seek out help.

In terms of what contributed to the outburst, there are a ton of potential factors. For one thing, we saw Todoroki’s father shove his mother to the ground, leading the audience to believe there is a significant history of violence against her, as well as hints given by Todoroki’s description of his father being given access to his mother. Women in violent domestic abuse situations are extremely prone to having traumatic brain injuries. Experiencing domestic violence also makes someone more likely to develop mental illness in general. In terms of potential PTSD, the absolute inability to get away from her abuser due to how physically powerful and influential he is probably played a role in the severity of the attack. Her family was well aware of the abuse she experienced. She could have already been drugged, she could have already been on medication and experiencing side effects, there are not a lot of details thus far. But there are two things we know about Todoroki’s father for certain: he is one of the most powerful people in the world and has access to whatever resources he wants, and he is a raging abusive asshole. Regardless of the specifics here of what she experienced, the abuse evidently continued after her attack. Otherwise, this would have been considered an event in Todoroki’s life and not his backstory.

The impact of being forced into a psychiatric hospital is not the same in America and Japan, and the culture surrounding mental illness is much different as well.

I do not want to begin to elaborate how traumatic medical abuse is, and I will not pretend like America or any other part of the world is in any way free from it either, but the impact of the hospitalization may be lost in translation depending on the locale of the viewer.

Hospitals are supposed to help people. Police are supposed to help people. Heroes are supposed to help people. They have all failed this kid and he is absolutely trapped. He went to the hospital and returned to find his mother taken from him, leaving him with an angry father and presumably nobody to protect him. Todoroki was forced to grow up viewing “heroes” as people who hurt, as one of the most successful heroes in the world was personally dedicated to make his life hell. To that end, he may have even found himself occasionally cheering for villains, just to find refuge in a fantasy where someone can protect him from his father. His father had political influence, and because politicians are the ones responsible for permitting involuntary hospitalization in Japan, he had the power to send away his family at will if they ever tried to speak up. Even in a society of superpowers, even in a society with magic, the world still fails to protect children. It enables abusers. It did not even bother to consider that people who love violence might be attracted to the job of being a hero, to express their love for violence and to be able to legally hurt or kill people. UA has absolutely no resources to identify abusive heroes, they do nothing about outwardly violent students. They do nothing to guide them, they do nothing to support them. I bet anything nobody is going to take note of all this talk of rejecting his father and do anything either despite it being a huge red flag. All Might straight up asked his old buddy how his student’s home life was, and the response was basically that he was being abused and that the kid wanted out. And nothing happened.

He knows.

And All Might was allegedly the only person in the world stronger than Todoroki’s father, and allegedly the best hero in the world. At some point, Todoroki may have even cheered for All Might, hoping that the man his father viewed as a threat and so desperately wanted to overpower could one day help himself and his mother defeat the villain in their own lives. But that help never came.

This world is an absolute nightmare. Abusive childhood with added superpowers for the abusers and no consequences. People without superpowers are treated horribly. People with mental illness are still treated horribly. They never believed that poor woman, and even if they did, they never followed through to protect a CHILD.

Todoroki spent his childhood being abused by someone beloved by the world and ignored by every institution that was supposed to help him. The man that so many around the world were so excited to meet was the same man that he desperately wanted to escape from. He watched the world praise a man who went home and abused his family. He was forced to watch his mother suffer similarly, and was even attacked by her as a result from her trauma. Instead of this being a wakeup call for his father, he tightened the reins and punished her for not more readily accepting his abuse. Todoroki knew he had to become stronger, but he wanted to do everything he could to never become like his horrifying father. He struggled to make bonds with others, and where his peers chose teamwork, he opted for independence.

And Todoroki finally managed to reach out to his seemingly empathetic and understanding classmate to break the news to him that one of the top heroes that he probably was a fan of prior is a terrible, terrible person. He vents, revealing just to what extent he is trapped and suffering. While he does not detail the specifics such as in the flashbacks, he paints a pretty blatant picture of a very abusive home life without much hope to escape. He admits to the ways in which he tries to cope with his trauma and avoid becoming like his father, while still trying to become strong enough to physically protect himself and his mother, and what does Midoriya say, on international television for all to hear?

REJECTING YOUR FATHER MAKES YOU A JACKASS AND YOUR TRAUMA IS AN INSULT TO EVERYONE AROUND YOU

FUCK OFF

[troublewithcomics]

ADD Reviews Avengers: Infinity War

[Note: Contains spoilers for Avengers: Infinity War.] "We live inside a dream," Special Agent Dale Cooper once said on Twin Peaks. And so it has been for millions of people during the decade of Marvel Studios films that launched in 2008 with Jon Favreau's Iron Man.

I felt we had dodged a bullet back then, in the casting of talented but troubled actor Robert Downey Jr. as Tony Stark, after talk of Tom Cruise taking the role, and Marvel even publishing comic books with Stark drawn to resemble Cruise (a tactic which would actually work with Samuel L. Jackson, to the delight of just about everyone). Cruise was not right for the role. At that point I had been living with Tony Stark in my life for over thirty years, and I knew Downey would embody that part like no one else could. Thankfully Favreau knew it as well and convinced the studio to bet on Downey along with him.

But despite the unlimited potential in the characters owned by Marvel Comics, mostly borne out of the imagination and visual power of the late Jack Kirby, I wasn't expecting much from Iron Man and I doubt anyone in the movie industry was, either. Marvel's characters had been licensed time and time again to film and TV and even radio shows, and the one that gained the most traction was the TV series The Incredible Hulk, which took a few elements from Jack Kirby and Stan Lee's creation and then used them to retell The Fugitive. Similarly the less-well-regarded Spider-Man TV series used almost none of the essential aspects of that comic book's mythology, instead using the character's name and costume as a small part of a generic, episodic crime drama, not even bothering to steal the plot of a successful show, like The Incredible Hulk did.

The relative success of those shows hinged on a number of factors, among them the lack of alternatives -- you had three commercial TV networks plus PBS back then. (Which reminds me that Spider-Man also regularly appeared on The Electric Company, a show aimed at 8-10 year olds and which managed to present a more faithful wall-crawler than a primetime network series could, even allowing for the fact that on The Electric Company, Spider-Man never spoke a word.)

The 1980s and 1990s brought even more mediocre-to-terrible attempts to cash in on Marvel's characters. Dolph Lundgren as The Punisher. Reb Brown as Captain America. And a truly awful Fantastic Four movie made quickly and cheaply by cult film director Roger Corman in order to allow the rights holders to maintain their license. It resulted in a film so bad that it was never widely released and was only seen by most people through the wonders of bootleg VHS tapes sold at sketchy comicons. It should be noted that this Fantastic Four film is only marginally worse than the three later released by major studios, but with four films to their names, The Fantastic Four at this moment has more movies to its name than even The Avengers franchise, even if not a single one of them is worth watching.

Speaking of The Avengers, I went to see Avengers: Infinity War yesterday in the company of my wife Lora. I think we have seen most of the Marvel Studios films at the theater, although I have my doubts about the second Thor film. It's hard to keep track now that the Marvel Cinematic Universe (as it's called) is closing in on two-dozen full-length feature films, almost all of which are at least entertaining, and some of which have proven magical in both their mass appeal and their ability to generate revenue. Narratively, financially, and especially from the perspective of pre-2008, the continuing success of the Marvel movies is a dream that millions have been living within. It has changed the lives of many, from turning around the literal and metaphorical fortunes of actors like Downey, who no one thought would even live to see 2018 never mind be one of the most popular movie stars on the planet, and Chris Evans, whose depiction of Steve Rogers/Captain America has left far behind any memories of his participation in two of those lousy Fantastic Four movies. More interestingly this dream movie franchise has inspired and brought happiness to untold numbers of people, like that time Downey gave an Iron Man-like bionic arm to a seven-year-old boy. Or the millions of African-Americans and others who found in the recent Black Panther film an inspirational culture in which they could see themselves and their own history. These films haven't solved all the world's problems, but it's undeniable that they have brought joy and comfort and more in far greater proportion than one might have thought possible before this all began.

Which isn't to say they are perfect. I am not writing a love letter to Marvel Comics, Marvel Studios, or anyone else, really. Maybe Jack Kirby, because without him there would be none of this, but also Stan Lee, who wrote the words of so many of the comics these movies are based on. And Steve Ditko, whose imagination spawned the characters and worlds of Spider-Man and Dr. Strange. And so many other comics creators I never thought would get their due, and yet who are credited in the long crawls at the end of these films and who, I hope, are being fairly compensated for the translation of their work into motion picture form.

Like Jim Starlin, a writer/artist whose work blew me away in 1977. That summer I was 11 years old, and Starlin wrote and illustrated a two-part crossover featuring The Avengers, Spider-Man and The Thing (from the Fantastic Four) in a galaxy-spanning battle royale against Starlin's most noted creation, the supervillain Thanos. The sprawling epic was made possible by the earlier work of Lee, Kirby, Ditko and others, but it felt like something entirely new. Recently going back and reading that story, I realized how direct an adaptation of that story Avengers: Infinity War is, and that realization made me even more eager to see how the film would play out.

It turns out that Infinity War is every bit as mind-blowing as those 1977 funnybooks that inspired it were to my 11-year-old self, and for much the same reason. It's not just the epic scale of the story, or the stunning visuals, or the huge cast of very different characters being remixed in new and interesting ways. Both the comics and the movie share all those elements. No, it's the combination of all those things, plus the charm, skill, talent and determination of the actors, writers and directors, the grand vision for these films from the producers, and other factors too numerous and mysterious to be easily tallied.

So yes, I loved it. My wife loved it. It wasn't perfect in the way Citizen Kane or Synecdoche, New York are perfect, timeless films, but that's not what the MCU movies are for. They are a commercially-produced dream, made for profit inside an increasingly dysfunctional capitalist system, and perhaps another essay could be written on the dangers of allowing such dreams to make one forget the injustices and dangers of the real world, but that's not the essay I am writing today. Today I want to just reflect on the wonder of seeing this film finally come to fruition, the bringing together of franchises-within-the-franchise, and I want to state with wonder and delight that it works.

Not just for me, lover of Spider-Man and the others since 1972. It works for my wife, who didn't know who most of these characters were before she met me, and who now loves Groot unconditionally and with profound delight. It works for millions of other people, some of whom have only the faintest idea who Jack Kirby is, although almost everyone knows who Stan Lee is. Not to diminish Lee's contribution to this mythology -- without him it almost certainly would not have existed nor endured this long -- but it cannot be said enough that Kirby gets the majority of the credit. Others took the baton and ran with it once Kirby left Marvel, but Captain America, Black Panther, Thor and many other of the most endearing and exciting characters in these movies are as popular and effective as they are precisely because of the elements Kirby baked into them: Black Panther's dignity, Thor's arrogance and innate decency, and perhaps most importantly, Captain America's dedication to people over politics, to good over greed. Let there be no doubt, these are exactly the heroes we need at this moment in history, and it is perhaps not a coincidence that many of the actors who inhabit these characters have used their popularity to give voice to those less fortunate than themselves, and to use their voices to critique the current wave of fascism and authoritarianism that threaten to destroy our culture. These movies are entertainment, yes, and they have made fortunes for many of the people involved, but some of those people see the responsibility their new prominence and success has given them, and they seem to take it seriously. I'm grateful for that.

And I'm grateful for the joy in so many of these films, which reaches an almost unreal level at various moments in Infinity War. Not just seeing Tony Stark bicker with Stephen Strange, or Groot heroically assist Thor in a way only he could at exactly the right moment. Not just seeing Mark Ruffalo's sublime Bruce Banner argue with The Hulk, and therefore himself, to hilarious effect at exactly the wrong moment, only to later see him delight in having all of the power but none of the horror such power usually brings him. It's all of these things and at least a thousand more.

Like I said, it's not perfect. How could it be? In a story this wide-ranging, I was never going to get enough of Scarlett Johansson's Black Widow to make me happy. But there'll be a movie for that soon enough. I was never going to get everything I came to this for, but then no one is, when you get really granular and start picking it apart. But that's missing the big picture, and in the larger sense, it's important to note I wasn't bored or unhappy for one nanosecond of this film, as I was for every never-ending moment of the grotesque, doomed-to-fail Justice League movie. I was uneasy and scared at the beginning of Infinity War, as intended. I was amused and laughing when Peter Parker asked for a distraction on a schoolbus to hilarious effect. I was chilled when Banner announced "Thanos is coming." As I said on Facebook, "So many moments."

I have seen some concern about plot holes, but I see none. The most specific concern centers on why Dr. Strange makes the choice he does near the end, with seemingly catastrophic results for the entire universe. Did the people voicing these criticisms forget that there's another movie coming? Did they not hear Strange tell his fellow heroes that he had seen millions of possible outcomes in which they all lose, but one, and one alone, in which they succeed in defeating Thanos? To be fair, that moment is couched in dread, no doubt to conceal the fact that it is foreshadowing the ultimate outcome of the as-yet unnamed sequel, said to be the end of the book all the MCU movies to date represent in the minds of those overseeing the franchise, before the start of the next book. But I have no doubt that Dr. Strange's decision, as agonizing as it was to see the consequences of, was the one that will somehow allow all those we lost to be returned to us in some form. Well, maybe not all.

I doubt it's a coincidence that Tony Stark was the one to see the ultimate defeat of their efforts to stop Thanos, and to watch in helpless horror as Peter Parker and others died before his eyes. Since the first Avengers movie, Tony Stark's bravado has masked his increasing trauma as one cosmic threat after another homicidal robot of his own design has taken chunks out of his soul. My guess is that by the end of 2019's Avengers movie, we'll have many if not most of the toys back in the toybox and ready to be played with another day. I watched the Falcon die, but I'm sure he'll be back. And Spider-Man, and The Vision, and Nick Fury, and everyone we watch blow away in the breeze, to our horror and despair. I'm guessing the price of their return will be Tony Stark's sacrifice in the next film, likely Downey's exit from the franchise. And that would be suitable. Downey was perfect for the role of Tony Stark because in so many ways he really already was Tony Stark. Arrogant, talented, addicted. He was, and is, our gateway into this world, the reason we have been able to feel the emotions these films create in us so viscerally and so immediately. Reversing the damage Thanos does at the end of Infinity War will require a huge payment to balance the books. I will be surprised if that isn't represented by the final end of Tony Stark's journey in these movies.

After all, the great throughline of these movies has been revelation and change, as the universe these characters live in has, in a decade, come to be as expansive and intriguing as it was after many decades of hard work and imagination from Stan and Jack and all the other writers and artists who are responsible for the comic books that launched this dream we are all now living inside. Who has had more revealed to him, and who has changed more than Tony Stark? How fitting would it be for the next film to end with him making the sacrifice, finally, that he narrowly escaped making at the end of the first Avengers film?

I could be wrong, though. And I don't care if I am. I’m just theorizing. How can you not? It's fun to speculate where this gigantic story will go next. And who could have guessed, before this all began in 2008, that so many millions of filmgoers would be so thrilled by one movie after another, a series of increasingly entertaining and even diverse films that give us worlds of wonder and delight, with shocks, horrors, laughs and even love?

No, no one could have seen this coming in 2008. No one except Jack Kirby, who, if he were still with us today, might be heard to say, "I knew it all along." -- Alan David Doane

[gokul2181]

Every character is a responsibility: Kumud Mishra

New Post has been published on https://jordarnews.in/every-character-is-a-responsibility-kumud-mishra/

Every character is a responsibility: Kumud Mishra

The actor, who plays his first lead role as a circus artist in the recent film ‘Ram Singh Charlie’, talks about his transition from theatre to cinema

Famous in theatre circles for over 25 years for his many memorable performances (Shakkar ke Paanch Daane, Kaumudi, Muktidham etc.), Kumud Mishra is now making his mark in movies. His latest film, Ram Singh Charlie, directed by Nitin Kakkar and released recently on SonyLiv, features his first role as lead. His performance as the eponymous character elevates the well-written story about the struggles of a circus artist. He has acted in other films too, including Rockstar (2011), Filmistaan (2014), Airlift (2016), Sultan (2016), M.S. Dhoni — The Untold Story (2016), Mulk (2018), Article 15 (2019), Thappad (2020) etc. Excerpts from an interview:

We’ve been hearing about ‘Ram Singh Charlie’ for a long time. When was it made?

We finished filming in 2015 and post-production work was completed in 2016. It took four-five years of struggle to release it — it’s the same story with every independent film. But now, we’re are happy with the response we’ve been getting after its OTT release. It reaffirms our faith in the film. I think it has come at the right time.

Why is this the right time?

Because the struggle of Ram Singh in the film is something many of us are going through. Workers have lost jobs; cinema theatres are closed. So many people are suffering without work. Film stars might survive on their savings, but what about technicians, spot boys etc? In other sectors too, people have lost jobs. All of them can relate to Ram Singh’s struggle when the circus shuts down.

When did you come to Mumbai?

In 1995. I came at the behest of my guru, Satyadev Dubey, who had set me up for a screen test for a new film (The Making of the Mahatma; Shyam Benegal). The plan was to complete the audition and go back in 3-4 days. But when I reached PMGP colony, I decided that this was where I wanted to live. I had no ambitions to work in cinema or television. My interest was theatre, and since Dubeyji was in Mumbai, I started working with him. I then met Sunil Shanbag and worked with his theatre group, Arpana, in many plays. At the same time, I also got television work in Mahesh Bhat’s Swabhimaan and Tanuja Chandra’s Zameen Aasmaan.

In theatre, you have played the main protagonist’s role more often than not. But in films, at least until now, you’ve been doing small roles. As an actor, how do you negotiate this difference?

I am fundamentally an actor. I don’t care how long or how important the character is . My focus has always been what I am learning and with whom I am working. In both theatre and cinema, the team is very important. More so in theatre, because you are spending so much time together. For example, with some directors like Abhishek Majumdar, you are together for 8-10 hours every day during rehearsals. In Mumbai plays, we work a minimum of 3-4 hours in rehearsals every day. If there have been moments where I have felt that I have been given a smaller role, I have consciously fought my ego and reminded myself that I am an actor and my duty is to be able to perform any role. As far as television and cinema are concerned, you are a product there. So, your fees and sometimes the length of your role are dependent on your market value, and there is no question of nurturing my ego there. Yes, at times I feel that I should be getting much better work. But the most important thing for me is that I do justice to the roles I get.

What was your first film?

Sardari Begum (1996). It was a dream come true — I was in a frame directed by Shyam Benegal.

You took a long break from movies after ‘Sardari Begum’. When and how did you come back to films?

Amrit Sagar was making 1971 in 2007. It was written by Piyush Mishra, and a lot of theatre friends like Manav Kaul, Deepak Dobriyal, Chittranjan Giri, Ravikishan and Manoj Bajpayee were part of the project. I couldn’t say no. But even though it won a national award, it didn’t do well in cinemas. Then Rockstar came to me via the casting director, Mukesh Chhabra. This film made me popular among the general public, and so began the second phase of my journey in films.

Do you think OTT platforms have led to an increase in content-oriented works and more talented actors getting work?

I think it is what society today demands — people clearly want something new and real. And we have a new generation of directors and writers who are interested in telling different stories. Also, due to the lockdown, the significance of OTT platforms has increased tremendously, and now many younger, talented folks who were waiting in the wings are getting opportunities. And because people have so many options on these platforms, any work that’s not good vanishes quickly into a black hole. The chalta hai attitude will no longer work.

As far as big films are concerned, for that matter any film, the cinema theatre is the place for them. The collective experience of watching a film in a theatre is vital for the art. And big budget films are essential for keeping movie economics healthy. They invest big money and earn big money, which feeds many mouths.

How different is acting in theatre and acting in a film? How do you negotiate the different demands of the mediums?

The new film directors have been a blessing. They don’t treat actors differently. For instance, Anubhav Sinha has always given me the full script. Same with Imtiaz Ali. For Rockstar, I worked for one-and-a-half months on the script and the language. I never felt I was treated differently compared to a star like Ranbir Kapoor. Of course, the mediums are different. In theatre, you rehearse so much that your role becomes a physical memory. In cinema, when I am in front of the camera, I am only worried about the other character. I don’t have to perform for the camera. But in theatre I have to be aware of the space and the audience as well as the co-actor, and I project my performance accordingly. For instance, the way I would perform at Prithvi and the way I would at Rangashankara are different, and it also depends on the audience energy since it is live.

Ram Singh is your first lead role. How did the film happen?

After Filmistaan, when we met at a party, Nitin Kakkar had told me about his plan to make this film. He asked me if I wanted to do it. After I heard the script narration, there was no way I could have rejected such a role. At this juncture in my career, I consider myself lucky to be offered an opportunity to play such a character.

It is a challenging role; you essay all kinds of emotions as well as impersonate Charlie Chaplin. Did you prepare differently this time, knowing the film’s responsibility rested on your shoulders?

Playing the lead role does not necessarily increase your responsibility. Every character is a responsibility. When Nitin cast me in Ram Singh Charlie, I was overweight, and he wanted me to play a Charlie Chaplin impersonator. I had to work very hard. I used to go to the office in the morning and work till evening. There were classes lined up — dance classes, Chaplin training and script reading sessions all day. It was an exciting process. So, yes, it was difficult.

You have recently started using social media. It seems there is more scrutiny than ever of celebrities on social media; they have to be on guard all the time.

I am not at all comfortable with social media. I signed up to promote the new film. Social media has big reach and has its own place, but it is not society. It’s unfortunate that it has started dictating the conversations in our lives. It’s a tragedy that newspapers have gone out of our lives. As an actor, an artist and a person I have an opinion on politics, economics and society and I don’t hesitate to express myself. But I don’t want to use social media to express myself. I will directly converse with my society instead.

How do you see your journey so far?

I live in the present. Thankfully, my memory is bad, so I don’t dwell on the past at all. I don’t see Ram Singh Charlie or any other work in the context of a 25-year journey. But I have really enjoyed the journey. I still feel as nervous when I have a new role as I did 25 years ago. Yes, I understand the craft better now, but that’s a double-edged sword because you tend to resort to your bag of tricks. I am happy with where I am. Both my personal and artistic journeys have been very satisfying.

The Bengaluru-based writer is a theatre artist and documentary filmmaker.

Source link

[gentle--riot]

writer questions!

Since I am but a little bitty baby blog and my brain doesn’t feel like coming up with something original tonight, I’m gonna do this long af list of writer questions:

1. Right- or left-handed?

I’m technically ambidextrous, but I prefer the right.

2. Pencil or keyboard?

I use both at different times and for different projects. Planning is almost always done on paper, but I do the bulk of my writing on my computer.

3. Favorite genre to write in?

As a general rule, I write realistic romantic fiction, though I have ideas that branch through several other genres. 

4. Least favorite genre to write in?

I don’t do sci-fi well, I don’t think. 

5. When did you start writing?

I wrote my first story when I was 6, and I pretty much just kept writing stories.

6. What was your first story about?

It was about a boy named Sky Racer who liked a girl in his class, and everyone made fun of him for liking a girl. Her name was Lacy Daffodil. 

7. How do you plan/outline your stories?

I’m planning on doing a full post about this, but I’ll give you the short version. I can create magnificent outlines, but I often struggle to stick to them. I still need a plan, though, so I make a list of things that need to happen and then set them in order and write them. 

8. Where do you get story inspiration from?

I’m planning a full post about this, too, but generally the shower or from watching tv. I’ll hear a cool name and see a cool thing that a person does, and then I’ll put those together, create a full character, and send them on adventures. 

9. Would you ever write fanfiction?

I love fanfiction, actually. I’m currently finishing my first one! I’ve read some gorgeous fanfictions as well as some horrible ones, the same as with every other genre of fiction. 

10. Have you ever gotten a story/idea from a dream?

I haven’t! My dreams are generally such a mix of trivial and bizarre that it seems silly to write a story from them. 

11. Who is/are your favorite writer(s)?

I’m a huge fan of the classics, though I think Austen is a little overrated *dodges the incoming projectiles*. I love Hemingway’s short stories, every single Bronte, Shakespeare’s poetry, Dickens, Dickinson, Neruda, and e.e. cummings. I also really love children’s poetry books. I adore Shel Silverstein.

12. What is your favorite book?

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte :)

13. Have you ever had fanart drawn of one of your original creations?

I don’t think I have! I don’t have much I’ve shared, though, so I feel like it’s maybe only a matter of time.

14. At which time of day do you write best?

I like late afternoon and nighttime.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I’ve been told that I have a distinctive voice -- that my own distinctive way of putting words together can be felt across academic, blogging, fiction, and even poetry. I’m also pretty good at writing emotional scenes and kissing. 

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

I’m REALLY bad at dialogue by nature, but I’m getting better. I also struggle with sort of... not skirting the big things that need to be addressed. 

17. Have you ever submitted your manuscript to a publisher?

I have not.

18. Have you finished a novel?

Sort of. I set out to write a novel, but it turned out to be the length of a novella instead. 

19. What is your highest word-count?

The project I’m finishing for Camp NaNoWriMo, Tied, is nearly 80,000 words long, and it’s my longest project. 

20. What is/are your favorite word(s) to use in writing?

As a fandom in-joke, I like to use #soon in my fics, and I really dig the phrase “endlessly and entirely”, so I have to work really hard to not use it constantly. 

21. Who is your favorite character that you’ve created?

My main character, Chessa Barrow, from my novel 18 Years. 

22. What are some of the main themes in your writing?

Disability empowerment is a big theme throughout my work. I also emphasize imperfections and universal acceptance. 

23. Have you ever been critiqued by a professional?

Only by my professor in college, who was published. He would often tell me that I am a gifted writer and have a distinctive, inimitable way with language. That kept me writing, because he doesn’t just hand out compliments. 

24. Have you taken writing courses?

I did! I took exactly one. Before I changed my college major from English to counseling psychology, I took a course in creative fiction. 

25. How would you describe a good writer?

I don’t like this question. A good writer, in my humble opinion, has educated themself about writing and been diligent enough to make their work readable and enjoyable. I truly don’t feel the need to go further than that for the simple reason that... I have no authority here.

26. What are you planning to write in the future?

IT’S A REALLY LONG LIST: a fairy tale trilogy, a fanfic about knights and wizards and stuff, a story with angels and demons and swords, another fanfic where Kevin is president and Avi is vice president, and... I know there are more, but I don’t have my list closeby. 

27.What advice do you have for aspiring writers?

Keep aspiring. Keep doing your best to make the best work you can make. 

28. What is the last sentence you wrote?

It was a sad song, but it was still a song. 

29. What is your favorite quote from a story you’ve written?

“I swear to Ina Garten, if this is a dream, I’m suing my subconscious.”

30. What is the title of the last story you were writing?

Tied

31. Have/would you self-publish?

I plan on self-publishing. 

32. What is the longest amount of time you’ve gone without writing?

I probably took two years off of doing fiction when I was finishing my psych degree.

33. Have you ever written a Mary Sue/Gary Stu?

I actually have a story called “moments ♡” where the main characters do not have distinguishing features, and I often put myself in the girl’s position, though she is not perfect, and I sure as heck don’t want her man. 

34. What made you want to start writing?

Well, I don’t remember why I started making up stories as a kid, but as an adult, I had an accident in my wheelchair where I was seriously injured. I had a conversation with Avi Kaplan’s mom, Shelly (I like her more than Avi), and she told me that I must be full of stories. 

I took up writing full-time shortly thereafter. 

35. Have you ever turned real-life people into characters?

Yes. Often. I do generally change them a little bit, but in my upcoming trilogy, many of my friends make appearances :)

36. Describe your protagonist in three words:

Brave. Sassy. Strong.

37. Describe your antagonist in three words:

Bigoted. Douchey. Argumentative. 

38. Do you know anyone else who writes?

I do! Many of my online friends are writers, and most of my interaction is online ;)

39. What’s you favorite writing snack/drink?

I love puff corn and Faygo cola more than most family members. 

40. Have you ever made a cover for your story? 

Yes. I have several works on Wattpad or ones that are going there, and I have made all the covers myself. 

41. Would you ever consider being a ghostwriter?

I would if I needed the work. 

42. Has your writing won any competitions?

Yep! I won several essay and poetry competitions in high school.

43. Has your writing ever made anyone cry?

It’s a recurring theme, I’m afraid. 

44. Do you share your writing with your friends/family?

I do! I use Wattpad to share fanfiction with whoever wants to see on Wattpad, and two of my friends are reading chapters of my novel as I finish them. 

45. What are some of the heavier topics you’ve written about?

What haven’t I covered? Emotional, physical, and sexual abuse, anxiety, ableism, sexism, self-harm, illicit drug use, alcohol abuse, death of loved ones... I haven’t written on suicide, but that doesn’t mean I won’t. 

46. Do you prefer happy or sad endings?

I’m a firm believer in happily ever after :)

47. What is a line of your writing that sounds weird out of context?

“I don’t think I would like an ass salad.”

48. What is a first line from one of your stories that you really enjoy?

“I am a badass.” from my novel, 18 Years. 

49. How diverse/well-represented are your characters?

Oh boy! My fics are inherently diverse considering how diverse the subject of them is. My novel is already very diverse and growing more diverse by the day :)

50. Have you ever written about a country you’ve never been in?

I tried when I was a teenager, but it didn’t go well. 

51. Have you ever written a LGBTQIA+ character who wasn’t lesbian/gay?

Yes! The protagonist in my novel is demisexual, and one of her closest friends is a nonbinary pansexual. 

52. Has your work ever been compared to famous writers/works?

Yep! I have been called the next J.K. Rowling just because of who I am as a person, but my work has been compared to John Green on a few ocasions. 

53. What are three of the best character names you’ve come up with?

Chesapeake Dawne Barrow, Jack Everett Mason, Jesse Oliver Hamlin

54. Has a single event in your life ever sparked a story idea/character?

Well, one of my best friends likes to call me a badass because I am in constant pain, but I keep living. I don’t see myself as a badass at all, so I decided to write a character living with my issues who is a badass... and Chessa was born. 

55. Do you believe in writer’s block?

Not necessarily. I believe we can get into a creative funk and struggle to get ideas out, but if you plan well and take care of your mental health, that doesn’t happen so often.

56. How do you get rid of writer’s block?

I just take in art. I’m a big fan of contemporary dance, so I like to watch some Travis Wall choreography when I’m feeling blank. 

57. Do you prefer realistic or non-realistic (paranormal, fantasy, etc.) writing?

I’m more realistic, though I do enjoy more non-realistic things. 

58. Which of your characters would you (A) Hug? (B) Date? (C) Kill?

I’d hug Chessa from 18 Years, date Kevin from Tied, and kill Nate from Tied.

59. Have you ever killed off a favorite character?

I’ve never killed off a character. I’m too soft :(

60. How did you kill off a character in a previous story?

^^^

61. What’s the most tragic backstory you’ve given a character?

*if you’re interested in reading Tied, don’t read this* My love interest was molested by her father, and then she was in a very abusive relationship in college. I’m not telling more. Bye.

62. Do you enjoy writing happy or sad scenes more? 

HAPPY. I love happy scenes. I wrote about a week of sad ones, and my anxiety yelled at me all week. 

63. What’s the best feedback you’ve ever gotten on a story?

“You went there. Gorgeously.” 

64. What is the weirdest Google search you’ve conducted for a story?

“hairless dog breeds”

65. Have you ever lost sleep over a character?

Yep.

66. Have you ever written a sex scene?

Yep! *runs away demisexually*

67. What do you love and hate about your protagonist?

I love her passion. I hate her fighting to not feel things in her personal life. 

68. Have you ever written a chapter that mentally and physically drained you?

Yes! This month!

69. Do your parents/family approve of you being a writer?

The opinions tend to be quite mixed. 

70. Write a story in six words or less.

She was happy. It mattered.