#and all pina must do is play her part...as princess!

[faeriegirl]

Don't worry, I'll help you, Pina. You don't have to do it all alone.

[jbuffyangel]

Strength: Arrow 8x05 Review (Prochnost)

We’re headed back to Russia for some Queen family vacation fun, except their version of “fun” is kidnappings and fight clubs.

Let’s dig in…

Oliver, Mia and William

Do you remember how we used to pray for a scene of Oliver teaching Felicity the bow and arrow? 

The scenes with Helena fueled my hate fire for years. The closest we ever came to Olicity “training” was Oliver offering Felicity a few punching pointers

and the glorious salmon-ladder-leads-to-sex scene.

I’m not complaining! All I’m saying is we could’ve had a bow-and-arrow-training-leads-to-sex scene too. I have several insert-scenario-here-leads-to-sex scene ideas this show has yet to explore.

Anyway, if we can’t have Felicity training with Oliver then second best is their daughter training with Oliver. The intro to “Prochnost” is almost three minutes long and it’s pure fan fiction from start to finish.  

Source: felicitysmoakgifs 

Oliver teaches Mia how to tennis ball and uses cooking as analogy before he remembers she’s 50% Smoak.

It is clear Mia still has a lot to learn not only from a vigilante perspective, but also in terms of her archer skills.  

When we met Oliver Queen in the pilot his skill set was perfected. He was a fully formed bad ass. 

We haven’t seen Mia train other than a montage with Nyssa Al Ghul in 7x16 and I am thoroughly enjoying there’s still a lot she can learn from her father.

Source: 1-crazy-dreamer

Oliver reviews all of his trick arrows with Mia, but doesn’t want them to become a crutch. 

Source: lucyyh 

What he doesn’t say is trick arrows became more of a necessity in disabling criminals after killing them was no longer an option. We’ve come a long way with Oliver Queen. If you had told me father/daughter training sessions were in our future when I watched the pilot then I would’ve laughed you out of the room because that’s a special brand of CRAZY.

Of course, a training scene without the stick thingies wouldn’t be a training scene on Arrow. 

Source: miasmoakdaily

Yes, I know there’s a technical term for the stick thingies, but if I haven’t learned it by now do you think I ever will? No is the right answer.

Oliver: Nyssa taught you well.

Mia: Mom made sure of it.

I think Arrow makes an important point during this scene. Nyssa Al Ghul is good, but she’s no Oliver Queen. There’s been many seasons where it feels like the writers down played Oliver’s skills to give the other team members something to do *cough*L*urelLance*cough*. 

However, the writers seem particularly focused on showing how Oliver’s skills are a whole other level now. Remember, he’s the guy who killed Ra’s Al Ghul – probably the greatest fighter of all time. It’s why Riccardo Diaz being a formidable threat was so laughable. When Felicity reached out to Nyssa she was asking the best for help, but there truly is no substitute for Oliver Queen.

Source: miasmoakdaily 

Mia “The Machine” Smoak-Queen (her official title btw) doesn’t need a break, but I love how Oliver worries about her nonetheless. DADDY OLIVER IS SO SOFT.

Source: amunetblack

Mia gently reins in William’s ramble and this is the brother/sister banter I am here for. Look, I know we’ve clocked a season and a half with these kids and I should be used to moments where they remind me of Oliver and Felicity, BUT I CAN’T GET USED TO IT. It still fills me with absolute glee anytime it happens.

Children are individuals with unique personalities, but one of the more fun aspects of parenting is seeing traits of other family members, or maybe even yourself, emerge in the child you’re raising. I feel the same glee when my daughter reminds me of my husband or mother. And since William and Mia are my fictional TV children why should I be any different?

There’s a Curtis reference in this scene, so naturally I doze off when that happens, but the cliff notes version is the energy wave that destroyed Earth 2 can be recreated. There’s a Russian general trying to replicate it via pulse wave generator weapon and Team Arrow needs to get the plans.

I think. Plus they need plutonium which Diggle volunteers to get.

Oliver invites the kids to Russia with him and they are equally as shocked as I am. 

Really? We’re going to Russia? I mean, I know we’re going to Russia, but Oliver’s casual invitation makes this trip sound like the equivalent of a grocery store run. The kids are so excited to be invited they think they’re going to Disney World with Dad.

This is so not going to be Disney World. TELL THEM THIS IS NOT GOING TO BE DISNEY WORLD OLIVER.

Oliver: I’m a better man. Different man. I think I can teach them the good without showing them the bad.

Oliver thinks this is going to be Disney World. 

Diggle accurately points out visiting the place which was home to the darkest point of his life may not be as simple as Oliver would like it to be. His answer is equally wonderful and sooooo WRONG. It’s WONDERFUL Oliver believes he’s a better man. It took us 8 long years to get here and his statement is no small thing. Round of applause for our boy.

Unfortunately, this is where the wonderful ends. Oliver is determined to only show his children the good. I guess it sounds ok when he says it, but upon closer examination it misses the forest through the trees. Everything that happened to Oliver Queen, good and bad, has formed the person he is. He cannot extricate the bad from this story anymore than he can the good. They are a sticky wicket forever entwined together. Take out one and you don’t get the full picture. And what his children need and deserve is the full picture.

That’s not to say Oliver’s filter is entirely wrong. There are certainly topics and information children are not ready to hear, can’t understand, or wouldn’t be appropriate to tell them. Every parent has some kind of filter when raising their children because that’s what good parenting requires.

This is appropriate when children are small. As your child grows into an adult then your relationship with them must become more adult, which requires more transparency. This is the problem between Oliver and his children. He is parenting like William and Mia are still little. And they are not.

If plans for a pulse generator sound like a flimsy excuse to go to Russia then you’d be right. The real reason we’re going to Russia isn’t because of some rando general. It’s to say goodbye to one of Arrow’s greatest supporting characters - Anatoly Knyazev

“My brother.”

I block out most of Season 6 because half of it was a walking horror show, so I don’t remember where Oliver and Anatoly left things after he joined and then betrayed Team Bad Guy. 

I guess their cool now? I don’t really want to spend all kinds of time on Oliver and Anatoly hashing out their issues, so if a hug gets the job done then I’m good. Also William speaks Russian. Queen men speaking foreign languages is hot.

A+ reaction Steve. 

Source: arrowdaily 

Anatoly was bored in the Maldives, now owns a bar and has a delicious pina colada recipe so that pretty much catches us up on him. He offers to help find Burov, but Oliver doesn’t want Anatoly’s “friends” involved because they are Bratva and he’s not discussing the bad parts of Russia with his children. I think the good parts of Russia ended at pina colada, Oliver. See how this is going to be a problem?

The best place to meet up with Burov is a local fight club. This prompts William to share where he met his baby sister and gives us Oliver’s best dad reaction to date. 

Source: 1-crazy-dreamer 

Bless you William. You do God’s work my boy.

Mia: Why did you bring us on this mission if you aren’t going to let us help?

Oliver: This is the Bratva. They are terrible people and you guys are my kids.

Mia: Yes, but we’re not children.

Oliver: Well you are when I look at you.

Aww… my sweet, lovable, wonderful Oliver. 

Do we ever stop looking at our children as children? Probably not. I know I will always be my parents’ baby girl and my daughter will always be mine. It is difficult to fully accept a human being as an adult when you’ve changed their diapers. And in Oliver’s defense he changed Mia’s diaper about five minutes ago in the present timeline, regardless of the future adults standing before him. We must give him some time to… adjust.

But Mia is Mia and doesn’t listen to anyone, other than William (SOUND FAMILIAR?) and he’s firmly on her team this week, so they go to the fight club and watch Dad in action. Mia has heard the stories of her father all her life but seeing him in action is an eye-opening experience. She is difficult to impress, but her dad is AWESOME. Yeah, we think so too honey. Welcome to stanning Oliver Queen.

Source: olivergifs

Unfortunately, the Bratva aren’t cool with the deal Oliver made with Burov and kidnap him along with Mia. Her Spidey sense was tingling, so she went to check on dad. Oops.

Source: feilcityqueen 

If there is one lesson the Arrow villains consistently fail to learn it’s DO NOT MESS WITH PEOPLE OLIVER QUEEN LOVES. He gets very angry and wildly unpleasant, which leads to many broken bones and occasionally murder. You put hands on Felicity Smoak and even I’m down with Oliver ripping off your head.

Of course, Oliver wakes from unconsciousness and his immediate question is if Mia is okay. Can’t-Admit-I’m-In-Love-With-You Oliver, 

Boyfriend Oliver,

Fiance Oliver, 

Ex-boyfriend Oliver, 

Husband Oliver, 

and Dad Oliver  are all the same Olivers.

Mia doesn’t understand why everyone in Russia knows who Oliver is and quickly deduces Dad was Bratva. Our princess is a smart cookie! Oliver is ticked Mia didn’t listen to him and there is truly no greater justice in the world than God creating a child who is exactly like you. Robert and Moira are having themselves a nice little chuckle.

Source: lucyyh 

The Bratva threatens to torture Mia if Oliver doesn’t tell them what’s on the zip drive. Mia is very brave and tells Daddy not to say anything. Pfft. Not likely Little Miss Square Bear. He points a gun at Oliver’s precious girl and counts down from five. The Green Arrow breaks like a pretzel. Honestly, I’m shocked Oliver didn’t give the guy the whole store after four.

Source: olicitygifs 

Unfortunately, nobody believes Oliver is telling the full story and a very large knife is brandished in Mia’s direction. Seriously? The one-time Oliver tells the truth he’s accused of lying. How ironic is that? The goon was at least 20 feet away from Mia, but Daddy was ready to flay him alive seven different ways. 

Oh. He was only cutting the restraints. Okay, we’ll knock down the flaying to five different ways.

The Bratva force Mia to play the Ring the Bell game. I don’t know if that’s what it’s called, but it works for my purposes. Oliver is very much HELL NO CHILD, but really her only other option is death. Of course, if she doesn’t ring the bell she dies too. ISN’T RUSSIA FUN? 

Mia kicks major ass, but is unable to ring the bell in under 60 seconds. This might have something to do with her wasting time to look back at the clock and then waiting an additional 3 seconds to reach for the friggin bell, but that’s just details. Be less stupid Arrow.

The Bratva don’t shoot her because… they’re nice gang of Russian mobsters now? 

Source: arrowdaily

This made very little sense other than Arrow doesn’t want to shoot the female lead of their new television show. On second thought, good enough for me. Oliver shoots death daggers at the man who scared the friggin bejesus out of him and it’s pretty much a certainty he will be flayed eight different ways.

William has a full-on panic attack over his father and sister’s kidnapping and it’s pretty much the cutest thing ever.  Then L*urel actually provides some necessary and helpful information. Is that the second week in a row this happened? I’m scared fandom. Hold me.

L*urel: Aren’t the people in your family constantly injecting each other with tracking devices?

William: Normally I would say God I hope not, but now I guess I can see the advantages.

He’s able to track them down, but L*urel and Anatoly show up right after Oliver has already freed himself by dislocating his thumbs. I love that trick. Mia’s reaction is the perfect combination of horrified and impressed. She really wants that trick to be on the next lesson plan.

Mia is bumming hard over not ringing the bell and boozes it up with some scotch. THY NAME IS GENETICS.

Oliver has had enough of his kids almost dying and is putting their asses on a plane back home BECAUSE THIS ISN’T DISNEY WORLD. 

William jumps firmly on Team Mia and reminds their father he’d be dead without them. Oliver has been dislocating his thumbs on his own for awhile now children. I think he’d survive without your help.

It’s time to set these kiddies straight.

Source:  oliverxfelicity

Mia tries to argue the whole adults saving the city angle, but that’s not going to fly in this timeline cupcake. 

In this timeline, Oliver smooshed those perfect chubby cheeks one more time before he left to save the universe 

Source:  oliverxfelicity 

and his rebelling teenage son, who was ousted from the present storyline to make a ridiculous plot point work in the future storyline, ignored his phone calls. (I’m never getting over the whole William never moves in with Mia and Felicity thing. NEVER.)

So, all of his children can take several seats and do what they’re told or they will be grounded! That includes no computer for you, William and Oliver will be taking that bow and arrow back little miss Mia.

Side note: This was a perfect time for William to explain WHY he didn’t return any of Oliver’s calls or if he even received them, but NOPE. Why would these writers attempt to clean up this mess of a storyline with reasonable explanations? Better to just ignore the Grand Canyon sized plot holes and keep driving through. 

Stephen Amell does a wonderful job in this scene as Oliver’s voice quivers with emotion. He’s skating the edge of keeping his composure and losing it all together perfectly this season. Neither Mia nor William have offered much understanding for where Oliver is coming from. Yes, they are adults but 1) No matter how old they get they will always be Oliver’s children and 2) HE MISSED TWENTY YEARS.  

Oliver has been very clear this was not a choice he wanted to make. Mia and William are not the only ones who lost something precious. Oliver lost a lot too. Part of being an adult is letting go of the natural narcissism we all have as children. So, if Mia and William want to put on their big boy and big girl pants then they need to show their father a little understanding and compassion.

Mia: And because you made the choice to protect us I had to spend my whole life alone. I didn’t have a chance to get to know my brother to get to know you.

Mia is not ready to do that yet. She throws Oliver’s choices in his face once again. He is still the one she wants to blame. If this reaction frustrates you then that’s understandable because Mia is supposed to be frustrating right now. It’s odd for us to be identifying through Oliver, but that’s what happens when the hero becomes fully evolved. This entire episode is about showing how much Mia still has to learn not only physically, but emotionally too.  

Source: oliverxfelicity

Oliver is getting used to Mia’s blame by now and it doesn’t really change his opinion on this situation. The worst part of this argument is Oliver believing his children hate him. His worst nightmare was Mia and William not understanding his choices and resenting him for it. Oliver’s greatest fear isn’t death. It is his children believing he abandoned them.

Mia being angry at Oliver over not growing up with William is really not his fault and it’s bizarre how the writers are insistent on lumping that in with everything else she’s ticked about. I did a deep dive on Mia’s emotional and psychological viewpoint last week and I won’t repeat it here because everything still stands. But how is Felicity never going back for William Oliver’s fault?

I’m not putting the blame on Felicity here either. It’s a ludicrous plot point that makes absolutely no sense, so it’s pointless to even try to argue the logic. And yet, that’s exactly what the writers keep trying to do. But it merely shines a brighter spotlight on their illogical reasoning behind the decision.

We are already sympathizing with Oliver because we know how heartbroken he was to leave his children. We know he sacrificed everything for a bunch of ungrateful twats who caught a lucky break for existing in the universe. But forcing Mia’s character to continually blame Oliver for EVERYTHING can rapidly make this character unlikeable. Particularly since her father left to SAVE THE UNIVERSE. The writers need to tread carefully. This has the same nonsensical threads of the Season 4 break up. Or, even worse, Mia channeling the same the anger/blame/bitterness of Season 1 & 2 L*urel Lance. Nobody wants a repeat of those hot messes.

Oliver is floundering. He missed twenty years of his children’s lives. They’ve arrived from a different time as adults. Oliver was still learning how to be a parent and then the universe flipped the board. He has no idea how to do this and the one person who can help him isn’t here. If there was ever a time Oliver needed his Felicity this is it.

So, the only guiding light Oliver has right now is the promise he made his wife and mother of his children. 

Source: oliverxfelicity 

Not to get too nitpicky on the details Oliver, but as @callistawolf​ pointed out in our Watchover episode of 8x05, we never heard him make any promises to Felicity about the children. 

In their final goodbye, it was Felicity promising Oliver to do whatever was necessary to keep their children safe (re: Nyssa Al Ghul). So, let’s just create our own head canon there was some Olicity discussion about the future kids being in present day off screen and he made the promise to her then. Cool? Cool.

OR Oliver is merely trying to score points in an argument via emotional manipulation, which hey man. More power to you. Whatever it takes to keep kiddos safe, I guess. I did have to chuckle about Oliver keeping his promises to Felicity NOW that she’s off the show. Where was this guy in 6x23? Or maybe I sobbed quietly. Probably a little of both. Regardless of the reasoning, it’s an EPIC speech. Dad for the win.

Oliver decides it’s time to get boozy. Amen brother. Pass the scotch. 

Anatoly is no Felicity Smoak, but in the ever-spinning weekly wheel of characters trying to fill her role, he asks the obvious question. Is Oliver sending his children home because he believes they cannot handle Russia/vigilantism/life?

Of course, the answer has been obvious from the moment Oliver decided to only share the good. It’s not about what his children can handle. This is about what Oliver can handle.

Anatoly: That is understandable. You’re ashamed. You have truly done some terrible things.

Oliver: Thank you for the reminder.

Anatoly: But you also have done some good things. It’s important that the kids see both.

Can’t you just hear Felicity Smoak saying these lines? Only in an adorable ramble and less booze? I miss her. Just leaving this here.

I absolutely understand Oliver’s refusal to share the darkest moments of his past. It’s not like my dad has gone chapter and verse into his Vietnam experiences. But I know he was there. I know some of the stories. Maybe Oliver doesn’t need to go into detail about the time he skinned a guy, but he can be honest with his children about being in the Bratva.

Anatoly: That’s the thing about teaching. It’s not about what you want to say. It’s about what they need to hear.”

This part of the speech is all Anatoly. 

Source: 1-crazy-dreamer 

He taught Oliver living was not for the weak because this was the lesson Oliver needed to hear.  Maybe he missed out on teaching William and Mia how to tie their shoes or ride a bike, but nobody understands what it means to be a hero better than Oliver Queen. The Crisis is coming and if Oliver is marching slowly but steadily to his death then he must pass on all he’s learned. There is still so much to teach Mia and William about Oliver’s life and who he is. Those lessons can only come from their father.  What William and Mia need to hear is the truth.

“You were so little. I think that’s what I’ve always wanted all these years. Is for you just to stay little, quiet and safe. But you’re not any of those things. You’re loud and fearless and it scares the crap out of me.” Derek Shepherd, Grey’s Anatomy

His children are loud and fearless and it scares the crap out of Oliver Queen. But there’s a deeper fear driving his hesitation. Oliver is afraid that if he tells Mia and William the truth about his past then they’ll only hate him more. He is constantly afraid of losing his children’s love.

But truth is the path to understanding. Anatoly is right. Oliver must give Mia and William a chance. The real truth is there’s nothing he has done or will ever do that will make his children stop loving him. Sure, Mia is angry at Oliver, but she’s only angry because she loves him. She craves her father’s approval more than anything.

Oliver changes his parenting tactic. He cannot shield his children from the very life they have chosen for themselves. He asks Mia to fight in the ring with him and William to help get them in. Oliver treats his children like they are part of the team – like partners.

Mia has been trying to show her father what she’s capable of since the moment she came to the present. Underneath all that anger and blame, is a little girl who just wants to make her daddy proud. What Mia needs to realize is she already makes Oliver proud merely by existing. However, he offers her the support and belief she’s been craving as they enter the ring together. 

Source: oliverxfelicity

The look on her face says everything about how Mia truly feels about her dad.

Source: arrowdaily

FATHER DAUGHTER FIGHT CLUB. From the moment, we met Blackstar in the ring I hoped she was Olicity’s daughter and we would somehow, someway get a scene of Oliver and Mia teaming up. But I never imagined these circumstances. It’s awesome.

After kicking butt as a team and a family, Oliver opens the door to his past and lets his children walk through. And what better place to start than the beginning?

Source: olivergifs

The truth is a tie that binds and it will be the foundation of Oliver’s relationship with his children. Something he never had with his parents until it was too late.

And did William and Mia stop loving Oliver after they heard the truth? No. They understand him better and love him all the more for what he’s survived. 

Mia: Don’t forget to send me that picture of my dad with that haircut.

Anatoly: Don’t forget to ask about Bratva tattoo. We have matching.

Oliver: Used to. Used to actually.

William: Oh I’m gonna need to hear that story immediately.

Well... son this raving loony burned my tattoo off my chest after several hours of torture. 

The warm banter of this scene isn’t to make light of what Oliver Queen suffered. It’s to show the power of telling our stories. Pain and fear lose control over us, bit by bit, the more we talk about it and share with our loved ones. We let them inside the good and bad, so we don’t have to carry it by ourselves anymore. Overtime, we begin to see our suffering for what it is - something we survived. Children, in particular, have an ability to find the light in the dark. We can see our life through their eyes and remarkably, yes even find the humor in what was once unspeakable pain. And come on - Oliver’s flashback hair is always funny.

Family is the source of Oliver’s strength. It always has been. It’s what helped him survive the unsurvivable.

He can only become his children’s strength by teaching them how he became a better man. William and Mia can only understand who their father is, and how to be heroes, by knowing the good and the bad. Hiding either tarnishes the beauty of his story. Oliver is finally strong enough to tell it and his children are strong enough to hear it. And that’s how the past, present and future will find harmony, acceptance, forgiveness and love.

Source: oliverxfelicity

Diggle and Roy

John enlists Roy’s help obtaining the plutonium.

 Source: thistributeisonfire

We’re going to run through this pretty quick because this storyline is all about getting Colton Haynes back on Team Arrow for the final episodes. 

Diggle tells Roy what happens to him in the future. The cure for Roy’s bloodlust wasn’t hiding out on Lian Yu for 20 years. It was rejoining the team and fighting for the city again.

Diggle: Maybe this time you don’t have to wait that long.

Diggle’s ENTIRE motivation is to change Roy’s future and it’s not difficult to figure out why. Obviously John cares about Roy and wants to help him. However, Roy also makes a very good test case. Diggle is also desperate to change Connor, JJ and Zoe’s future as well. If they can make their own hope in the present then maybe things can be different for his children in the future.

Source: 1-crazy-dreamer

We all need love and support. None of us can truly survive on our own - particularly when we are suffering. Roy fights John at first, but eventually he comes to realize he’s right. Roy found purpose and family when he met Oliver so it makes sense to him they are the reason he gets better. So why wait? He comes home and begins the path to healing twenty years earlier. And thus, a major storyline from Season 7 flash forwards begins to change.

ROY MADE SENSE Y’ALL!!! 

L*urel L*nce

I truly could not figure out why L*urel was in Russia. I guess to help Oliver track down these plans, but she spent the better part of the episode staring at her fingernails. That’s not even an exaggeration. KC stared at her fingernails for an entire scene.

Source: thistributeisonfire 

Her interactions with Oliver are even more bizarre.

Source: 1-crazy-dreamer 

I’m sorry, but does L*urel go here? Bl*ck S*ren has been on the show since Season 5. You’d think at this point she’d know Oliver Queen can easily handle one guy twice his size. I’m chalking up this stupidity to the acting version of a layup, so Stephen Amell can spike it with the epic comeback of, “I’ll give him half a chance.”

I guess L*urel is primarily in Russia to betray Oliver Queen and steal the plans or something, per Lyla’s instructions.

LL: And here I thought I was supposed to be the bad guy.

At last count Lyla never murdered innocent people, so I think she's still ahead by the numbers Bl*ck S*ren.  This is the problem with L*urel’s character this year. The comparisons her character makes this season are INSANE. Putting on a new suit and calling yourself Bl*ck C*nary doesn’t automatically make you morally superior to everyone.

At least when Season 7 L*urel was playing attorney she had a healthy perspective on herself.  I was a big fan of the snark last season and found her character to be refreshingly amusing in her biting honesty, but this year the writers lost the snarky humor and have gone straight to obnoxious hypocrisy and judgment.  Sometimes she’s just downright mean in a way none of the other characters deserve. Yes, Lyla is being shady, but this in no way erases the horrors of your past L*urel. 

L*urel: If saving it means going back to the person I used to be then what the hell is the point?

We all know this whole betray Oliver thing the Monitor is playing at with L*urel is a trick. She’s not going to betray Oliver and prove herself a worthy and useful hero.  Ok. Whatever. I know I’m supposed to get excited about her big speech, but this line kind of gnawed at me. 

L*urel is unwilling to save an ENTIRE EARTH because she’d have to do something shady. She’s not willing to do any dirty work if it sullies her good name. So, Earth 2 only matters as long as L*urel gets to be a hero on it? I guess I should be happy L*urel is holding onto her moral center, but if there’s anything Oliver Queen’s story has taught us sometimes heroism requires doing unpleasant things for the greater good.

Take Lyla for example – a person L*urel feels quite comfortable judging. Lyla has been lying to her husband, something she does not want to do, for the greater good. I think we know enough about Lyla’s character by now that even though her actions are hurtful we can trust her reasons. 

LL’s primary function this week it seems is to rat Lyla out to Diggle and Oliver.

Source: stevesrogered

I guess we’re supposed to rejoice there’s no price L*urel is willing to pay for her morality, but this is still the same person who has yet to take any responsibility for the people she’s murdered. The line just sounded so arrogant and self serving to me. I don’t know. Maybe it was just KC’s delivery.

It’s been difficult for me to imagine what role either L*urel or Dinah will play in the spin off and seeing as how the writers are struggling to find a purpose for their characters in the final season of Arrow I am not encouraged. That said, L*urel’s scene with Mia was one of the few bright spots for her character in this week’s episode.  Mia believes she’s not cut out to be a hero because she failed to ring the bell like her father and Zoe’s death still weighs heavily on her conscious.

Mia: Every time I try and live up to my dad or to prove I can do what it is you all do. I fail.

L*urel: If you’re trying to live up to us, don’t. We are just as flawed as anyone. Especially me. All you can do is live up to yourself.

Damn L*urel. That was really good advice and a truthful reflection of the person you are. CAN WE HAVE THIS ATTITUDE CONSISTENTLY WEEK TO WEEK PLEASE WRITERS? This is the first time I can see a version of L*urel working in the spin off, but that’s always the problem with the writing of her character. We never know which version we’re going to get.

Season 8 is slipping back into very bad Season 1 habits. There’s a lack of cohesiveness with L*urel and they really need to get this sorted out before the new show hits the air. Otherwise, we’re going to have the same problem we’ve always had with her character. No matter how many versions of L*urel’s character these writers create they never figure out who she truly is because they don’t want to devote the necessary screen time. This leaves us with a half baked canary every single time.

If L*urel is going to play Rupert Giles to Mia’s Buffy in the spin off then this scene is a good indication of how it could work, but that’s only if this path stays on track which seldom happens with this character. The key to LL is a very specific supporting role. She worked great in Season 7 because her focus was getting Oliver Queen out of jail. Then,it was about fleshing out her redemption and shipping her back to E2 to make amends.

L*urel lacks a concrete To Do list this year. They toss her into scenes and she takes up space looking at her fingernails. Or she arrives a few minutes after Oliver frees himself to scream down a door he could have easily opened. Or she says something hypocritical and nasty. REALLY? This is the best these writers can come up with? Sadly, history points to yes.

Keep her scenes short. Keep her scenes specific. Keep her scenes supporting. That’s the only way this character works. And believe me I wish it was different, but there doesn’t seem to be any version of L*urel L*nce these writers can keep a handle on.

You know what I appreciate about this scene between Anatoly and William though? Anatoly addresses his less than honorable past and apologizes. I can’t fully remember what Anatoly did to William - I think it might have been related to kidnapping or a bomb or a nuke or all three. See? I told you I don’t remember S6. My point is - can we expect an apology from L*urel for being an accessory to William’s mother’s murder? I won’t hold my breath. It would be extremely helpful if they addressed LL’s past in an honest way and actually had her show remorse to one of her victims, but again that requires more screen time and effort than this show is ever will to give her character.

SO WHY DO THEY KEEP HER AROUND?

Stray Thoughts

Connor isn’t in this week’s episode because he’s checking in on Sandra. Soooo… Connor can visit his mother but Mia and William can’t visit theirs? I know this is yet another EBR plot hole, but find a better reason for Connor to be MIA writers. It just makes the Smoak-Queen family look uncaring, which we know they are not. And if Connor can get an off camera mother moment mention then why can’t Mia and William? THESE ARE THE THINGS THAT ANNOY ME.

“Has anyone fought six men before?” Mia and Oliver’s side eye is hilarious, but didn’t Mia fight six goons by herself? And we’ve watched Oliver take down twenty without breaking a sweat. Raise the number in the ring a little if you want me to take their hesitation seriously.

Diggle is absolutely horrified to find out Lyla is working against the team with The Monitor. “I didn’t want to believe it was true.” Boy, really? Who are you kidding? This is Lyla Michaels, super spy. She’s been lying and doing shady things from minute one. She’s the Oliver to your Felicity. Get out of here with that nonsense. This is totally something she would do and you know it. Lol

William doesn’t like the field, but the allure of beautiful couture convinces him otherwise. At least he didn’t have to go on a skeevy date with Ray Palmer to wear it. Source:  felicitysmoakgifs

William’s “Wrap it up” sign while Mia was fighting was such a funny and wonderful way of showing their team within a team.

“I can be the fun uncle.” Raise your hand if you want Anatoly as a fun uncle. 

He was a complicated, but ultimately wonderful character who made Arrow a better show. 

Goodbye Anatoly. I will miss you. source:  oliverxfelicity

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[thenewlittleprincess]

Hey, Sunflower!

"Chico Jimenez here, on KELP, on a sunny morning, Monday, November 17, 2025 at 7.24 am, with the best of Latin music por los chicos y las chicas de El Paso, Texas."

"La vida está una bella cancion! Woof!"

"Some words of wisdom from our mascot, Charlie Chihuahua. And that last song by Tomas Andrzewski, Tierra del Amor, bouncin' up the Latin charts, was surely a beautiful song.

"And now we have a special guest on KELP Morning. Let me welcome La Princesita!"

"Hola! Muchas gracias! El Paso,  vos quiero muchá!"  says the Princess.

"De nada, princesita. Now I've noticed you always say that, everywhere you go. What is it? Vos . . ." asks Chico.

"Vos quiero muchá!"  says the Princess.

"Now, in Tex-Mex, that doesn't mean a hell of a lot. What exactly are you tryin' to say, say in English?" asks Chico.

"Oh! It means 'I love you all!'" says the Princess.

"Oh. Around these parts, we'd probably say something like 'Los quiero a todos'," says Chico.

"Yeah, I can understand that but it sounds really formal, like I'm not that close to them. I want to be a close bessie of me fans in Texas!" says the Princess.

"OK, and I think you are. You're really popular around here, with Latinos and Anglos alike," says Chico.

"I'm so happy! Love to be loved! That's why I said I love them too!" says the Princess.

"I hear you've got a new song, just to introduce to El Paso," says Chico.

"Right 'tis! Every Monday I do a new song for the week. Last week, it was 'Princesistos, Princesistas'," says the Princess. "I sang that in . . . let me see if I can remember all the names . . . Tucson, Phoenix, Las Vegas, Salt Lake and Trinidad," says the Princess.

"And I have to say somethin': I heard some terrible news that ladrones were copyin' these radio broadcasts off the radio and sellin' them like podcasts at like 50 Units a pop. I want to kill them, truth be told, grubby li'l snide creatures they are! Dunno' give yar brass to los ladrones! No le des vos pisto a los ladrones!" says the Princess.

"Dad says there's somethin' about I'm not allowed to release videos on the ICT except Latin ones through Pina Colada. I want to do these ones about Guatemala in English, so everyone can understand them, not just Latino people, because Guatemalans need all the help they can get now," says the Princess.

"But, at Christmas, at the same time we release our Spanish-language videopack, "Princesita", Pina Colada will release these songs about Guatemala in English and Spanish, in another videopack, called "Princess At War." So you can buy them off the ICT at their normal prices. Just don't try to jump the queue or it'll cost you a fortune!'" the Princess says.

"OK, thank you for warnin' our listeners, princesita. Now, what is your new song?" Chico asks.

"It's called 'Hey, Sunflower!' It's about the flowers and we are livin' in the same world but they're the lucky ones! Like the junta in Guatemala doesn't affect them at all. They stay beautiful while the people get hurt," says the Princess.

"Well, that surely sounds interesting! OK, your band is here now so you can go over and do the song for us," says Chico.

"Cheers, Chico!" the Princess says.

Coco Loco leads on acoustic guitar. It is a classic flamenco rumba but played fast: Am G F but instead of going down to Em, it is what the Princess calls “rolled down and quickly wound back up” : Am G F G Am. It sounds something like the video at the bottom of the page.

The Princess joins in, improvising melodies off that chord pattern on her electric piano.

Then Pom-Pom starts the drum machine.

The Three Angels are shaking three tambourines and banging out the machine's beat on them too.

All-About-The starts the bass line.

Then everyone is doing Am in unison and the Princess starts singing  . . . or is it shouting?

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!

Then everyone plays that Am G F G Am pattern and the Princess really does sing.

The sun is shining, just like every day

We can go out and play the same games we always play

But something's changed today, we cannot see

We're no longer equal, no longer free

We must be careful

They're [the Three Angels back up the Princess with harmonies here] watchin' you and me

[Then the Princess alone] Watchin' you and me

[A little melody with Coco's guitar and the Princess' piano in unison]

[The whole band backs up the Princess]

Hey, sunflower

As beautiful as you were yesterday

Hey, hey, hey, sunflower!

Golden [clap, clap] shining [clap, clap]

You don't care

Our country's dying

'Cos you can always be free

You can laugh at the people you see

[Stop]

[Musical Interlude - The Princess starts a melody on the electric piano and the whole band copies it - Then everyone plays chords except the Princess, who does the "supersonic" improvised melodies, with flourishes and glissandoes, for which she is famous]

[As the band plays chords, the Princess sings, playing the same chords on her piano]

Diego, he walked out of his factory

Because what they pay him's not enough to eat

He and all the workers took their cries to the street

Now they're all gone

The Army's victory

But their children are cryin'

[The band provides singing back-up for the Princess on the next two lines]

"Mummy, feed me!"

"Mummy, feed me!"

[The whole band backs up the Princess]

Hey, sunflower

As beautiful as you were yesterday

Hey, hey, hey, sunflower!

Golden [clap, clap] shining [clap, clap]

You don't care

Our country's dying

'Cos you can always be free

You can laugh at the people you see

[Musical Interlude -  The Princess and Coco "duel" on the piano and guitar with melodies]

[Then the whole band plays Am louder and louder and the Princess shouts:]

Wo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-h! Ya! Ya! Ya! Ya!

[Then the Princess reverts to singing and playing chords as the band backs her up musically]

The Army chased the people out of their houses

Droppin' fire from the sky shootin' all around

The fathers can only come back to work

By sunset they're in town with their wives and boys and girls

They have nothin' but food and bunk beds

[the Three Angels back up the Princess with harmonies here]

No more land

[Then the Princess alone]

No more land

[The whole band backs up the Princess]

Hey, sunflower

As beautiful as you were yesterday

Hey, hey, hey, sunflower!

Golden [clap, clap] shining [clap, clap]

You don't care

Our country's dying

'Cos you can always be free

You can laugh at the people you see

[The Princess and the band, slowly] Hey ... sunflow . . .er

[The Princess shouts, alone] As beautiful as you were when we were free

[The Princess and whole band sing together]

Hey, hey, hey sunflower

Nothing has changed for you

Take me to yesterday with you.

[Musical conclusion - The Princess leads the band on melodies]

"OK , thank you, that was great!" says Chico.

"De nada, Chico! Cheers for lettin' me sing it here!" says the Princess.

"Come sit down and have some water, muchacha. You sound winded!" says Chico.

"Cheers!" says the Princess.

[The sound of the Princess drinking]

"See, your band is breakin' out Cokes and . . . all kind o' stuff to chill out [Laughter from Chico and the band]. Just make yourselves at home, ladies and gentlemen. Nuestro estudio es su estudio!  Princesita, it's a cute little song about flowers but you sure did get the politics into it," Chico says.

"It's not politics like Democratico Revolutionario and Cristiano Nacional anymore. They used to argue. But this is different. This is life and death. And I cannot sing songs about flowers and let people forget what's happenin' to el pueblo de Guatemala, like everythin’s fine," says the Princess.

"And President Hemingway reported to Congress about Guatemala this week,” Chico says.  “And she said basically what you've been saying. I guess you're happy about that?" Chico asks.

"Of course, everyone who's tellin' the truth is gonna wind up sayin' the same thing, aren't they?" says the Princess. "And your President is tellin' the truth. Full marks. She's honest. But where are the troops? Why are the junta still there? Tellin' the truth is good. It's godly. But ya have to DO somethin' too or it's music to watch people get killed to. So we've got to keep on beggin' and pleadin' until she gets it straight and DOES somethin'!"

"I'm sure that'll come," says Chico.  "I'm sure that'll come, muchacha. Our system is kind o' slow here but eventually things do get done.”

“Like I always say, ‘Pronto llegara, nuestro tiempo,’” says the Princess. “Can your listeners understand that?”

“Yes, they sure can,” says Chico.

[writingguide003-blog]

Zadie Smith: dance lessons for writers

New Post has been published on https://writingguideto.com/must-see/zadie-smith-dance-lessons-for-writers/

Zadie Smith: dance lessons for writers

From Fred Astaires elegance to Beyoncs power, Zadie Smith is inspired by dancers as much she is by other writers

The connection between writing and dancing has been much on my mind recently: its a channel I want to keep open. It feels a little neglected compared to, say, the relationship between music and prose maybe because there is something counter-intuitive about it. But for me the two forms are close to each other: I feel dance has something to tell me about what I do.

One of the most solid pieces of writing advice I know is in fact intended for dancers you can find it in the choreographer Martha Grahams biography. But it relaxes me in front of my laptop the same way I imagine it might induce a young dancer to breathe deeply and wiggle their fingers and toes. Graham writes: There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is nor how valuable nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open.

What can an art of words take from the art that needs none? Yet I often think Ive learned as much from watching dancers as I have from reading. Dance lessons for writers: lessons of position, attitude, rhythm and style, some of them obvious, some indirect. What follows are a few notes towards that idea.

Gene Kelly and Fred Astaire

Alamy; The Life Picture Collection/Getty Images. Top: Getty Images

Fred Astaire and Gene Kelly

Fred Astaire represents the aristocracy when he dances, claimed Gene Kelly, in old age, and I represent the proletariat. The distinction is immediately satisfying, though its a little harder to say why. Tall, thin and elegant, versus muscular and athletic is that it? Theres the obvious matter of top hat and tails versus T-shirt and slacks. But Fred sometimes wore T-shirts and slacks, and was not actually that tall, he only stood as if he were, and when moving always appeared elevated, to be skimming across whichever surface: the floor, the ceiling, an ice rink, a bandstand. Genes centre of gravity was far lower: he bends his knees, he hunkers down. Kelly is grounded, firmly planted, where Astaire is untethered, free-floating.

Likewise, the aristocrat and the proletariat have different relations to the ground beneath their feet, the first moving fluidly across the surface of the world, the second specifically tethered to a certain spot: a city block, a village, a factory, a stretch of fields. Cyd Charisse claimed her husband always knew which of these dancers shed been working with by looking at her body at the end of the day: bruised everywhere if it was Kelly, not a blemish if it was Astaire. Not only aloof when it came to the ground, Astaire was aloof around other peoples bodies. Through 15 years and 10 movies, its hard to detect one moment of real sexual tension between Fred and his Ginger. They have great harmony but little heat. Now think of Kelly with Cyd Charisse in the fantasy sequence of Singin in the Rain! And maybe this is one of the advantages of earthiness: sex.

When I write I feel theres usually a choice to be made between the grounded and the floating. The ground I am thinking of in this case is language as we meet it in its commonsense mode. The language of the television, of the supermarket, of the advert, the newspaper, the government, the daily public conversation. Some writers like to walk this ground, recreate it, break bits of it off and use it to their advantage, where others barely recognise its existence. Nabokov a literal aristocrat as well as an aesthetic one barely ever put a toe upon it. His language is literary, far from what we think of as our shared linguistic home.

One argument in defence of such literary language might be the way it admits its own artificiality. Commonsense language meanwhile claims to be plain and natural, conversational, but is often as constructed as asphalt, dreamed up in ad agencies or in the heart of government sometimes both at the same time. Simultaneously sentimental and coercive. (The Peoples Princess. The Big Society. Make America Great Again.) Commonsense language claims to take its lead from the way people naturally speak, but any writer who truly attends to the way people speak will soon find himself categorised as a distinctive stylist or satirist or experimentalist. Beckett was like this, and the American writer George Saunders is a good contemporary example. (In dance, the example that comes to my mind is Bill Bojangles Robinson, whose thing was tapping up and down the stairs. What could be more normal, more folksy, more grounded and everyday than tapping up and down some stairs? But his signature stage routine involved a staircase pressed right up against another staircase a stairway to itself and so up and down he would tap, up and down, down and up, entirely surreal, like an Escher print come to life.)

Astaire is clearly not an experimental dancer like Twyla Tharp or Pina Bausch, but he is surreal in the sense of surpassing the real. He is transcendent. When he dances a question proposes itself: what if a body moved like this through the world? But it is only a rhetorical, fantastical question, for no bodies move like Astaire, no, we only move like him in our dreams.

By contrast, I have seen French boys run up the steps of the High Line in New York to take a photo of the view, their backsides working just like Gene Kellys in On The Town, and I have seen black kids on the A train swing round the pole on their way out of the sliding doors Kelly again, hanging from that eternal lamppost. Kelly quoted the commonplace when he danced, and he reminds us in turn of the grace we do sometimes possess ourselves. He is the incarnation of our bodies in their youth, at their most fluid and powerful, or whenever our natural talents combine ideally with our hard-earned skills. He is a demonstration of how the prosaic can turn poetic, if we work hard enough. But Astaire, when he dances, has nothing to do with hard work (although we know, from biographies, that he worked very hard, behind the scenes). He is poetry in motion. His movements are so removed from ours that he sets a limit on our own ambitions. Nobody hopes or expects to dance like Astaire, just as nobody really expects to write like Nabokov.

Harold and Fayard Nichols

Getty

Harold and Fayard Nicholas

Writing, like dancing, is one of the arts available to people who have nothing. For 10 and sixpence, advises Virginia Woolf, one can buy paper enough to write all the plays of Shakespeare. The only absolutely necessary equipment in dance is your own body. Some of the greatest dancers have come from the lowliest backgrounds. With many black dancers this has come with the complication of representing your race. You are on a stage, in front of your people and other people. What face will you show them? Will you be your self? Your best self? A representation? A symbol?

The Nicholas brothers were not street kids they were the children of college-educated musicians but they were never formally trained in dance. They learned watching their parents and their parents colleagues performing on the chitlin circuit, as black vaudeville was then called. Later, when they entered the movies, their performances were usually filmed in such a way as to be non-essential to the story, so that when these films played in the south their spectacular sequences could be snipped out without doing any harm to the integrity of the plot. Genius contained, genius ring-fenced. But also genius undeniable.

My talent was the weapon, argued Sammy Davis Jr, the power, the way for me to fight. It was the one way I might hope to affect a mans thinking. Davis was another chitlin hoofer, originally, and from straitened circumstances. His logic here is very familiar: it is something of an article of faith within the kinds of families who have few other assets. A mother tells her children to be twice as good, she tells them to be undeniable. My mother used to say something like it to me. And when I watch the Nicholas brothers I think of that stressful instruction: be twice as good.

The Nicholas brothers were many, many magnitudes better than anybody else. They were better than anyone has a right or need to be. Fred Astaire called their routine in Stormy Weather the greatest example of cinematic dance he ever saw. They are progressing down a giant staircase doing the splits as if the splits is the commonsense way to get somewhere. They are impeccably dressed. They are more than representing they are excelling.

But I always think I spot a little difference between Harold and Fayard, and it interests me; I take it as a kind of lesson. Fayard seems to me more concerned with this responsibility of representation when he dances: he looks the part, he is the part, his propriety unassailable. He is formal, contained, technically undeniable: a credit to the race. But Harold gives himself over to joy. His hair is his tell: as he dances it loosens itself from the slather of Brylcreem he always put on it, the irrepressible afro curl springs out, he doesnt even try to brush it back. Between propriety and joy, choose joy.

Prince & Micheal Jackson

Redferns; Sygma via Getty Images

Michael Jackson and Prince

On YouTube you will find them, locked in many dance-offs, and so you are presented with a stark choice. But its not a question of degrees of ability, of who was the greater dancer. The choice is between two completely opposite values: legibility on the one hand, temporality on the other. Between a monument (Jackson) and a kind of mirage (Prince).

But both men were excellent dancers. Putting aside the difference in height, physically they had many similarities. Terribly slight, long necked, thin-legged, powered from the torso rather than the backside, which in both cases was improbably small. And in terms of influence they were of course equally indebted to James Brown. The splits, the rise from the splits, the spin, the glide, the knee bend, the jerk of the head all stolen from the same source.

Yet Prince and Jackson are nothing alike when they dance, and its very hard to bring to mind Prince dancing, whereas it is practically impossible to forget Jackson. It sounds irrational, but try it for yourself. Princes moves, no matter how many times you may have observed them, have no firm inscription in memory; they never seem quite fixed or preserved. If someone asks you to dance like Prince, what will you do? Spin, possibly, and do the splits, if youre able. But there wont appear to be anything especially Prince-like about that. Its mysterious. How can you dance and dance, in front of millions of people, for years, and still seem like a secret only I know? (And isnt it the case that to be a Prince fan is to feel that Prince was your secret alone?)

I never went to see Michael Jackson, but I saw Prince half a dozen times. I saw him in stadiums with thousands of people, so have a rational understanding that he was in no sense my secret, that he was in fact a superstar. But I still say his shows were illegible, private, like the performance of a man in the middle of a room at a house party. It was the greatest thing you ever saw and yet its greatness was confined to the moment in which it was happening.

Jackson was exactly the opposite. Every move he made was absolutely legible, public, endlessly copied and copyable, like a meme before the word existed. He thought in images, and across time. He deliberately outlined and then marked once more the edges around each move, like a cop drawing a chalk line round a body. Stuck his neck forward if he was moving backwards. Cut his trousers short so you could read his ankles. Grabbed his groin so you could better understand its gyrations. Gloved one hand so you might attend to its rhythmic genius, the way it punctuated everything, like an exclamation mark.

Towards the end, his curious stagewear became increasingly tasked with this job of outline and distinction. It looked like a form of armour, the purpose of which was to define each element of his body so no movement of it would pass unnoted. His arms and legs multiply strapped a literal visualisation of his flexible joints and a metallic sash running left to right across his breastplate, accentuating the shift of his shoulders along this diagonal. A heavyweights belt accentuated slender hips and divided the torso from the legs, so you noticed when the top and bottom half of the body pulled in opposite directions. Finally a silver thong, rendering his eloquent groin as clear as if it were in ALL CAPS. It wasnt subtle, there was no subtext, but it was clearly legible. People will be dancing like Michael Jackson until the end of time.

But Prince, precious, elusive Prince, well, there lays one whose name was writ in water. And from Prince a writer might take the lesson that elusiveness can possess a deeper beauty than the legible. In the world of words, we have Keats to remind us of this, and to demonstrate what a long afterlife an elusive artist can have, even when placed beside as clearly drawn a figure as Lord Byron. Prince represents the inspiration of the moment, like an ode composed to capture a passing sensation. And when the mood changes, he changes with it: another good lesson.

Theres no freedom in being a monument. Better to be the guy still jamming in the wee hours of the house party, and though everybody films it on their phones no one proves quite able to capture the essence of it. And now hes gone, having escaped us one more time. I dont claim Princes image wont last as long as Jacksons. I only say that in our minds it will never be as distinct.

Janet Jackson Madonna Beyonce

Michel Linssen/Redferns/Getty; Dave Hogan/Getty; Matt Slocum/AP

Janet Jackson / Madonna / Beyonc

These three dont just invite copies they demand them. They go further than legibility into proscription. They lead armies, and we join them. We are like those uniformed dancers moving in military formation behind them, an anonymous corps whose job it is to copy precisely the gestures of their general.

This was made literal on Beyoncs Formation tour recently, when the general raised her right arm like a shotgun, pulled the trigger with her left and the sound of gunshot rang out. There is nothing intimate about this kind of dancing: like the military, it operates as a form of franchise, whereby a ruling idea America, Beyonc presides over many cells that span the world. Maybe it is for this reason that much of the crowd I saw at Wembley could be found, for long periods, not facing in the direction of the stage at all, instead turning to their friends and partners. They didnt need to watch Beyonc any more than soldiers need to look fixedly at the flag to perform their duties. Our queen was up there somewhere dancing but the idea of her had already been internalised. Friends from the gym stood in circles and pumped their fists, girlfriends from hen nights turned inwards and did Beyonc to each other, and boys from the Beyhive screamed every word into each others faces. They could have done the same at home, but this was a public display of allegiance.

Janet Jackson kicked off this curious phenomenon, Madonna continued it, Beyonc is its apex. Here dancing is intended as a demonstration of the female will, a concrete articulation of its reach and possibilities. The lesson is quite clear. My body obeys me. My dancers obey me. Now you will obey me. And then everybody in the crowd imagines being obeyed like Bey a delightful imagining.

Lady writers who inspire similar devotion (in far smaller audiences): Muriel Spark, Joan Didion, Jane Austen. Such writers offer the same essential qualities (or illusions): total control (over their form) and no freedom (for the reader). Compare and contrast, say, Jean Rhys or Octavia Butler, lady writers much loved but rarely copied. Theres too much freedom in them. Meanwhile every sentence of Didions says: obey me! Who runs the world? Girls!

David Byrne

Rex/Shutterstock

David Byrne and David Bowie

The art of not dancing a vital lesson. Sometimes it is very important to be awkward, inelegant, jerking, to be neither poetic nor prosaic, to be positively bad. To express other possibilities for bodies, alternative values, to stop making sense. Its interesting to me that both these artists did their worst dancing to their blackest cuts. Take me to the river, sings Byrne, in square trousers 20 times too large, looking down at his jerking hips as if they belong to someone else. This music is not mine, his trousers say, and his movements go further: maybe this body isnt mine, either. At the end of this seam of logic lies a liberating thought: maybe nobody truly owns anything.

People can be too precious about their heritage, about their tradition writers especially. Preservation and protection have their place but they shouldnt block either freedom or theft. All possible aesthetic expressions are available to all peoples under the sign of love. Bowie and Byrnes evident love for what was not theirs brings out new angles in familiar sounds. It hadnt occurred to me before seeing these men dance that a person might choose, for example, to meet the curve of a drum beat with anything but the matching curving movement of their body, that is, with harmony and heat. But it turns out you can also resist: throw up a curious angle and suddenly spasm, like Bowie, or wonder if thats truly your own arm, like Byrne.

I think of young Luther Vandross, singing backup a few feet behind Bowie, during Young Americans, watching Bowie flail and thrash. I wonder what his take on all that was. Did he ever think: Now, what in the world is he doing? But a few performances in, it was clear to everybody. Here was something different. Something old, and yet new.

Rudolf Nureyev and Mikhail Baryshnikov

Sipa Press/Rex/Shutterstock; Getty Images

Rudolf Nureyev and Mikhail Baryshnikov

When you face an audience, which way will you turn? Inwards or outwards? Or some combination of the two? Nureyev, so fierce and neurotic, so vulnerable, so beautiful like a deer suddenly caught in our headlamps is faced resolutely inwards. You cant take your eyes off him, as people like to say, but at the same time he is almost excruciating to watch. We feel we might break him, that he might crumble or explode. He never does, but still, whenever he leaps you sense the possibility of total disaster, as you do with certain high-strung athletes no matter how many times they run or jump or dive. With Nureyev you are an onlooker, you are a person who has been granted the great honour of being present while Nureyev dances. I dont mean this sarcastically: it is an honour to watch Nureyev, even in these grainy old videos on YouTube. Hes a kind of miracle, and is fully cognisant of this when he dances, and what did you do today to warrant an audience with a miracle? (See also: Dostoevsky.)

With Baryshnikov, I have no fears of disaster. He is an outward-facing artist, he is trying to please me and he succeeds completely. His face dances as much as his arms and legs. (Nureyevs face, meanwhile, is permanently lost in transcendent feeling.) Sometimes Baryshnikov wants to please me so much hell even try tap dancing with Liza Minnelli, risking the scorn of the purists. (I am not a purist. I am delighted!) He is a charmer, an entertainer, he is comic, dramatic, cerebral, a clown whatever you need him to be. Baryshnikov is both loving and loved. He has high and low modes, tough and soft poses, but hes always facing outwards, to us, his audience. (See also: Tolstoy.)

Once I met Baryshnikov over a New York dinner table: I was so star-struck I could hardly speak. Finally I asked him: Did you ever meet Fred Astaire? He smiled. He said: Yes, once, at a dinner. I was very star-struck, I hardly spoke. But I watched his hands all the time, they were like a lesson in themselves so elegant!

Swing Time by Zadie Smith is published on 15 November (Hamish Hamilton, 18.99). To order a copy for 15.57, go to bookshop.theguardian.com or call 0330 333 6846.

Read more: http://www.theguardian.com/us