#and jeremy is terrified of vincent who tortures him

[shitsecurityguards]

who actually likes Vincent, like how many actual friends dose he even have? lol

hes not the best at friendship

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #403

Top Ten Disney Villains

Chalk another one up to “topics I thought I’d already covered”…

So this weekend, or thereabouts, sees the release of Frozen II, which is cool because it uses the “II” instead of the “2”, which makes it seem all moody and epic. At the time of writing, I have not watched it, because I do not believe it is out. However, I will watch it, and not just because I have two little girls who at various points have been utterly nuts for Elsa and Anna. No, I will also watch it because Frozen is rather great and I’m interested to see what happens next. Hopefully Elsa will get a girlfriend. That’d be nice for her.

There are lots of things you could discuss when talking about Disney movies (and by Disney movies I mean specifically the animated “classics”, from Snow White to Wreck-It Ralph, from Cinderella to Moana; I am discounting Pixar movies for the time being, however). There’s the principle characters, the songs, the settings, the dresses… but today I will be discussing The Villains.

What is a Disney movie without a Big Bad? I mean, Winnie the Pooh, I suppose. Arguably Ralph Breaks the Internet. Even more arguably, Moana. Stuff like Dumbo and Pinocchio certainly have bad guys, but not over-arching nemeses. Anyway, where was I?

Yeah, so, Disney Villains. Iconic. Often terrifying. Sometimes hilarious. Kinda sexy? Yeah, sure, why not. They tend to get the best lines; often the best songs; sometimes they’re played with relish and gusto by the best actors. Although some villains sometimes have a bit of nuance, depth, or tragedy to them, most of the time we’re in strict hissing panto territory, and I don’t think that diminishes the films one iota. As our big, broad entertainment enjoys putting wrinkles in its evil linen – be it the fraternal intricacies of Loki or the self-pitying emotional outbursts of Kylo Ren – we do enjoy shades of grey. Therefore it’s all the more entertaining when somebody properly goes for it as a bad guy, and pulls out the Full Palpatine.

I’m not sure, either, quite why Disney excels at female villains. Even when their titular heroines are a bit wet – like Ariel or Aurora – the bad girls are full-throated, evil joys. Ursula and Maleficent are the best bits of those movies, Jamaican crabs notwithstanding. And, yes, they both get to be a bit sexy too. Is it some kind of dark undercurrent of misogyny, of Disney exploring tropes of the fallen woman? Is it something primordial, like a dark inversion of maternity (there are quite a few Wicked Stepmothers in Disney, after all)? Or is it just coz the animators liked drawing sexy bad girls? We’ll never know.

One notable – and unincluded – villain here is Hans, from Frozen (spoiler alert). He just slipped off the list – but then so did quite a few famous others. Hans is interesting because he’s an absolute bastard, conniving and scheming and murdering his way to the top in as sociopathic manner as possible. His heel turn was, for me at least, a surprise, and part of Frozen’s beautiful unpicking of common Disney fairytale tropes. The perfect love-at-first-sight duet partner turns out to be a lying, manipulative toe-rag. Although the film predated the #MeToo movement, Hans is the perfect poster-boy. Whilst his early-days civility and lack of a show-stopping villain theme song means he’s not quite as memorable a character, it’ll be interesting to see if Frozen II pulls off as successful a switcheroo, or has a villain that resonates as strongly with the film’s themes.

But enough of this guff. Let’s get wicked.

Scar (Jeremy Irons, The Lion King, 1994): pretty much the dictionary definition – alongside Alan Rickman in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves – of “upper-class English villainy”. It’s just delightful to listen to him enunciate his wickedness. This is Iago-level bastardry. Oscar-worthy.

Ursula (Pat Carroll, The Little Mermaid, 1989): ditto Ursula, who also brings a delightful, raw sexuality to an otherwise rather chaste movie (especially one that’s so concerned with body transmogrification). Great set of pipes, too.

Mother Gothel (Donna Murphy, Tangled, 2010): less of a sneering monster but more realistic in her purely wicked gaslighting. A case study in belittlement and subtle mental torture. Also another case of “belting villain song”.

Maleficent (Eleanor Audley, Sleeping Beauty, 1959): no real nuance, and sadly no real numbers, but Maleficent gets a nod due to her phenomenal visual design, an epic and iconic dragon battle, and just by being the embodiment of unreal, emotionless evil. A literal devil.

Gaston (Richard White, Beauty and the Beast, 1991): not the sneering evil overlord or psychological manipulator, but an early example of toxic masculinity and patriarchal suppression writ large (the size of a barge, in fact). Swagger, ego, and – horror – popularity, rallying the town behind his hate. Also – again – cracking tune.

Prince John (Peter Ustinov, Robin Hood, 1973): Disney doesn’t just do cold evil with its villains; much of the time they’re funny, too, and Prince John is like Captain Hook in being essentially a bumbling idiot used chiefly for comic relief. But he’s funnier than Hook, and with his thumb-sucking schtick, has a better, er, hook, too.

Professor Ratigan (Vincent Price, Basil the Great Mouse Detective, 1986): full disclosure, I’ve not seen this since I was a kid, but I loved Ratigan. Again, cool song; again, tremendous performance. But he managed to be both aloof and sneery yet utterly, primally terrifying; at the end, with his wild face and ripped clothes, he freaked out Young Me so much. Also one of the few Disney villains to actually flat-out murder someone.

Doctor Facilier (Keith David, The Princess and the Frog, 2009): AKA “The Soul Man”, Facilier is an interesting character that explores cultural roots of the film’s New Orleans setting, giving him a vibe (and, frankly, an ethnicity) that makes him unique. Plus he’s really creepy, with his scary “Friends on the Other Side” (great number), and a frankly unsettling death scene.

Lady Tremaine (Eleanor Audley, Cinderella, 1950): ploughing a similar manipulative furrow as Mother Gothel, Tremaine – the quintessential Wicked Stepmother – is a malicious, quiet presence, rarely shouting, never getting physical; she simply strips away everything of Cinderella’s until she’s left with a torn and tattered dress and no means of escape. She is The System which is all-controlling, and only magic is enough to defeat her.

Jafar (Jonathan Freeman, Aladdin, 1992): similar in his own way to the melodramatic villainy of Scar or Maleficent, Jafar also adds some baser human wants and lust for power. He’s a more physical villain, with some of Scar’s eloquence but more of Gaston’s personal need for growth, success, and – well – a bit of a legover. Doesn’t get a good song till The Return of Jafar, though.

So there we are: top Disney gits. Shame I didn’t have room for Mad Madam Mim from The Sword in the Stone, who was so nearly there, along with Hook and Hans. I did, however, veto supporting villains, henchmen, and second-tier bad guys, if you’re wondering where Smee, Iago, and Tamatoa are. Maybe that’s the subject for another Top Ten? Shiny!

[lpwarwick]

The 2019 batch of Oscar-nominated short films in the animated and live-action categories share a theme of disconnection. The animated shorts have a sunnier attitude about this painful state, demonstrating how divides can be bridged. The live-action films, meanwhile, forge ahead into darkness. They ask: What if the connection severs? What it if never clicks? What if two worlds remain unbridgeable?

Of the animated set, Bao (8 min.) edges closest to the precipice. Writer-director Domee Shi, the first woman to direct a short film for Pixar, startled audiences who went to see Incredibles 2 in theaters and got the delicious, offbeat Bao as an appetizer.

The protagonist is a lonely Chinese-Canadian woman who makes a dumpling that comes to life. She raises the dumpling baby as her son; but as he quickly grows, he also grows apart from her, rejecting the mother-son mealtimes he used to enjoy when he was small for time spent with friends and soon a fiancee. Terrified by how fast their connection is fraying, the mother makes a decision that is at once metaphorically brilliant and twisted on a raw emotional level. The ending redresses the situation and restores the bond. And yet the pain of their schism lingers.

In Late Afternoon (10 min.), an elderly Irish woman straddles a rift between her memories and reality. The tension arises from whether the woman will close the gap or fall through, powered by writer-director Louise Bagnall's expressionistic and mutable style. The woman's past swirls through her present in colors that unfurl into shapes, a kaleidoscopic beauty that alternatively confuses and clarifies the life before her eyes. A plaintive violin score from Irish musician Colm Mac Con Iomaire runs through both worlds, making a reconnection, once it crystallizes, all the sweeter.

Weekends (16 min.) also toggles between two worlds, telling the story of a boy in 1980s Toronto who routinely crosses the chasm of his parents' divorce. Spending weekdays with his mother in the country and weekends with his father in the city, the boy learns how to connect with them in different ways based on their differences as people and how to reconcile his parents' differences within himself. At first, the duality is stark. The mother's house is melancholy and muted, while the father's apartment thrums with urban noise and garish colors. The eventual blending of these environments from the boy's perspective is a perfect match for the talents for filmmaker Trevor Jimenez. His cloudy and jittery animation style is as striking in establishing the binaries within the boy as it is poignant in dismantling them.

Though closer to a Pixar film in its glossy style and tone, One Small Step (8 min.) from filmmakers Andrew Chesworth and Bobby Pontillas is another heart tugger about a parent-child relationship. The narrative centers on a Chinese-American girl and her single father, a shoemaker, who supports his daughter's dream of becoming an astronaut. But as she grows up, she struggles in school and drifts apart from her dad, to the point that their connection, along with her vision for herself, shatters. Similar to Bao, but more like the sci-fi weepies Contact and Interstellar, this film has a bittersweet ending and a wholehearted message: that the bond between a loving parent and child is otherworldly in its might.

Animal Behaviour (14 min.), the only outright comedy of the bunch, posits that what separates us from each other is also what disconnects us from ourselves: addictions, compulsions, anxieties, and so on. Thus, five animals meet in group therapy to discuss their hang-ups. A cat can't stop licking himself. A pig can't stop eating. A praying mantis eats her lovers. A leech has separation anxiety. A Bigfoot-like creature has anger issues. A bird under hypnosis recalls how he pushed his baby brother out of their nest in a jealous rage when they were hatchlings, with the defense: "He was eating my worms!"

Codirectors Alison Snowden and David Fine, while uninventive in their animation style, are canny about the disconnect that occurs when primal urges overtake rational thought. Much of the film's humor stems from the animals' hypocrisy; they can see problems in others, but are either oblivious to or unwilling to acknowledge similar defects in themselves.

The live-action short Detainment (30 min.) also contains blame shifting, though the circumstances couldn't be grimmer. In 1993, two ten-year-old boys kidnapped, tortured, and murdered a toddler in Liverpool, England. This film focuses on the boys when they were first detained by the police and interviewed in separate locations with their parents by their sides. The conversations, based on public records and the interview transcripts, are extremely disturbing. The reason is fourfold: the boys either don't understand or don't care about the depths of their brutality (probably both), they are breathtaking liars, the parents are shaken by what they've wrought, and the actors who play the boys are outstanding.

But if writer-director Vincent Lambe's goal was to unnerve his audience, this was a cheap shot, and he should have made a different movie. What Lambe considers but leaves unplumbed is how children are more easily forgiven for smudging the line between right and wrong, and how adults too easily let them. This disconnection is ripe for a wider-reaching documentary or fictionalized narrative film. But as a shallow reenactment, this movie adds nothing to the tragedy.

A better film about two boys with a shaky sense of reality and consequences is Fauve (17 min.), which in French means "wild beast." Montreal-based filmmaker Jeremy Comte crafts a remarkable portrait of inseparable friends, preteens who get off on tricking each other. For example, the smaller one pretends to break his leg and the taller one, skinny and shirtless, calls his bluff. It goes on like this for a while, the boys roving from an abandoned train to a sun-soaked field to harsher environs I won't spoil here. Suffice it to say that Comte knows how to snap a connection and leave it pulsing like a phantom limb.

So too does the Spanish filmmaker Rodrigo Sorogoyen, as evidenced by his short film Madre (19 min.). A woman stops by her apartment with her mother and answers a phone call from her ex, Ramon. Their six-year-old son is on the line, saying Ramon has left him on an empty beach somewhere in France or Spain, he's not sure which. The woman hands the phone to her mother and calls a mutual friend and then the police.

The film contains no cuts and no close-ups. The camera stays wide, only pushing closer when the woman's desperation peaks. It follows her around the apartment as she paces, pleading to her most beloved to keep talking, to stay on the line—even as his battery dies, his reception drops to one bar, and a strange man approaches. Though mostly confined to one bright space, Madre welcomes darkness, punctuated in the end by a dropped call's sickening beep.

Marguerite (19 min.), written and directed by Marianne Farley, is about a woman at the end of her life contemplating a connection she never made. The woman is dying of kidney disease, and her only earthly bond, it seems, is with her caretaker. When she learns that her caretaker is a lesbian, she turns to an old photo album filled with memories of her best friend: the one who got away because she never admitted her true feelings. Later, she asks her caretaker, "What's it like to make love to a woman?"

The film could have dipped into darker territory from here, but Farley demurs. Instead, the sadness deepens, grows tender like so many bruises. It's rare to get a second chance in life. If you're lucky, you get a shadow of it.

The best of the live-action films, Skin (20 min.), ups the ante to examine one of the most unfortunate outcomes of disconnection: violent fear of the other. A sweet-natured boy looks up to his father (Jonathan Tucker), mother (Danielle Macdonald), and their friends, all of whom are skinheads. He joins his parents at the supermarket and sees a black man in another checkout line; they smile at each other. The father sees this interaction. He calls his friends and they beat the man nearly to death in the parking lot. The man's wife and son watch, scream, and cry from inside their car.

In this movie, as in life, a disconnection is often a connection too. When the black boy watches the white boy drive away with the attackers, he sees both a connection in their shared age and the most profound disconnection making sense fully, perhaps for the first time. Other examples abound, but the most striking is the way the black man's friends execute a reprisal that this critic in no way saw coming.

Written and directed by Guy Nattiv, and based on an original idea by Jaime Ray Newman, Skin has a tight structure and a perfect ending. If it were published as a short story, it would win many a literary prize. As a short film, it certainly deserves an Oscar.

[blametheeditor]

The Hunter Tamer

Warnings: cursing. Mentions of people being treated as pets, not being respected or listened to. Mentions of death and murder. Being cruel.

Small mentions of vore.

Run Down: No matter who you talk to, there’s always ways to get what you want. Bribing with money, power, or…toaster waffles.

No one said Jeremy couldn’t be sacrificed twice

_________________

Jeremy blinks. And then he blinks again. And again. The scene before him doesn’t change. He’s left with Hunter staring down at him.

Listening.

It’s not possible. Jeremy Fitzgerald isn’t listened to in any normal circumstance. His soft brown curls are too irresistible not to ruffle and mess with. He’s not extremely short, but he’s not tall either. Thin as a twig and small. Not to mention his stuttering and fearful squeaks earned him the title of being an ‘adorable little thing’ that even Fritz at five feet tall agrees fits him well. And he’s human.

Hunter Afton doesn’t listen to anyone on a normal circumstance. Being the counterpart to Mike Schmidt and actually from a completely different dimension, he’s raised to think that everything he could ever want is his. Being a highly trained assassin and having no qualms whatsoever with killing doesn’t help. The world is his, and everyone inside it is for him to decide what to do with. That includes claiming a young adult who pays his own bills and goes to work is rightfully his pet. The worst part is the man being a giant.

Jeremy’s only something to snatch off the ground randomly to be pet and carried. Cooed at and tucked away in his chest pocket. It’s a miracle Hunter hasn’t already sported him away completely and lock him inside a cage like one does to a hamster. The only reason why that hasn’t happened is most likely Mike and Vincent, though they’re still never listened to completely.

But the giant assassin listening to his ’pet’?

“H-H-H-H-Hunter?”

A squeak emits as the larger suddenly falls to his knees in front of the table the stuttering guard stands, causing earthquake-like tremors that threaten to send the other falling, breakfast waved out to the side to attempt to stay standing. Nothing else happens, though. Those giant blue eyes identical to his idol and roommate simply stare at him.

O-O-O-O-O-O-O-Okay?

This is weird. Weirder than weird. Downright impossible. Hunter isn’t supposed to be watching him. Jeremy’s supposed to be struggling inside a fist holding him high above the ground almost carelessly. Don’t get him wrong! The giant and terrifying hand actually stopping its grab when he yelled ‘no’ is awesome! But, it’s unnerving. And scary as hay.

A moment passes of him being able to tremble in peace before staring up at his usually merciless torturer. “Uh, a-a-a-re y-y-y-y-you okay?”

No answer, and that gaze is starting to look hungry.

Does this mean the giant just wants to watch him? Hunter is...Hunter, so he wouldn’t put it past him? It feels like he’s a zoo animal. But he guesses it’s better than being picked up.

Jeremy sighs at the fact his nerves are going to get fried because of Mike’s counterpart. Almost a year ‘living’ with him and he still doesn’t understand the newest member of the family. It means seemingly simple mornings of getting home from work and just trying to eat breakfast turn into-

The guard full out screams when a low growl suddenly rumbles through the air.

Hunter glares down at him, finally reacting like he normally would. But Fazbear it Jeremy is not made for this! A scare like that can literally kill him! A human shorter than him makes him fear for his life. And this a giant, not to mention a Hunter. “Employee B13. You better not be thinking about eating that.”

...eating? He means, Hunter’s angry at him eating his breakfast that he made?

W-W-Why m-me?

“U-U-U-U-Uh...”

Think, think, think! Why is the assassin so angry about him eating! It’s just a toaster waffle he quickly heated up! The toys wanted to play ‘Hunt The Night Guard’ this time, meaning he came back home starving and just wanting something quick and easy. It’s sort of bad for him, but not as bad as chocolate. Although that had been a serious debate whether to eat chocolate ice cream for breakfast instead...

“O-O-O-Okay,” Jeremy begins, moving to put his poor breakfast away. “I-I-I-I'll j-j-j-j-”

The stuttering guard freezes. He then slowly, carefully, moves the waffle in his hand to the other side of his body. And the eyes follow. He then raises what should be an absolutely miniscule circle high above his head.

Left, right, down, up, right, up, right, left, up, down-

“Employee B13,” Hunter murmurs, effectively freezing the human. “If you don’t stop playing with my food, I will eat you along with it.”

A bright smile appears when the waffle is then offered with a fearful squeak, his rightful treat immediately grabbed and tossed into the mouth Jeremy doesn’t want to be anywhere near, a delighted hum being emitted. The giant then straightens up in excitement.

“Another!”

Jeremy moves to automatically obey, not wanting to be threatened with being inside the assassin’s mouth again, especially with it being an extremely real threat.

But then he stops. Because of the fact it had only been a threat, one that sounded half-hearted. And before, Hunter listened to him. Why for a toaster waffle of all things, a human toaster waffle, he doesn’t know. He can’t really judge on the odd addiction considering he’d do the same for chocolate! But the point is Hunter listens for the frozen breakfast.

E-E-E-E-Either this’ll be the s-s-s-smartest th-th-th-thing I’ve e-e-ever done, or the s-s-s-s-s-stupidest.

“B-B-B-But I-I-I'm hungry.”

“You can’t eat my toaster waffles!”

Those eyes look so betrayed, booming voice panicked the human really is thinking about eating his treat. And with how stubborn he’s learned his pet can be, Jeremy might actually eat them! And there’s no more left in Mike’s fridge. “I’ll make you breakfast!”

“R-R-R-R-Really?”

“I get ten waffles, though,” the giant growls. This is not fair, using his love and adoration against him. But those are his toaster waffles. At least Jeremy seems to understand, the adorable little thing opening up his freezer and taking a box out.

“H-H-H-How about eight?”

A glare. “Fiiiiine.”

The stuttering guard breathes in relief he’ll at least have two waffles for lineage until they buy more. It turns into terror however when a hand suddenly reaches out to snatch him up. “W-W-W-WAIT!”

S-S-S-Sugar h-h-honey i-i-iced t-t-t-t-t-t-tea.

Hunter actually stopping and listening isn’t going to be easy getting used to. It’s definitely nice! But it feels wrong, almost. Especially with bone-crushing fingers longer than he is tall hover ominously above his head, a frustrated expression looming above demanding ‘what?’.

“L-L-L-Let m-m-me heat them up f-f-f-f-f-f-first.”

This is going to get annoying. “Hurry up, though! I’m going to start cooking and if I do it ‘wrong’ I’m not making anything else.”

“...e-e-e-eggs from a-a-a chicken, r-r-r-right?”

Jeremy shivers in fear at the cruel smile given, not needing an overactive imagination to picture blood coating an admittedly wonderful smile. If only that was used for non-horrific things.

“You’ll see!”

H-H-He's j-j-j-just t-t-t-trying to scare y-y-y-you. Just t-t-t-trying t-to s-s-s-s-s-s-s-scare you.

Honestly it’s a miracle he manages to actually concentrate on heating up seven more of the promised waffles. His trembling doesn’t stop for a single second, but at least he isn’t hyperventilating due to watching Hunter crack open eggs instead of bringing in their gagged friend Eggs Benedict.

He leaps out of his skin each time the toaster pops, and it only got worse with the giant screaming ‘THAT’S EIGHT!’ after the fourth time. Not even a second after the last one is added to the plate, a hand sweeps the human up.

Surprisingly the waffles aren’t lost. And he’s set on the assassin’s shoulder. There he’s left to just sit and watch as Hunter finishes up cooking his half of the deal, every once in a while a bright ‘one!’ or ‘two!’ as fingers appear in front of Jeremy.

...h-h-huh.

This was actually...nice. Still terrifying with how carless the giant moves, constantly threating to pitch Jeremy over to the unforgiving ground at least ninety feet away, but it’s nice! Especially with Mike finally home.

“Hey, Hunt,” the lead guard greets as he walks into the kitchen. A quick glance over everything and a smile appears. “Hey, Jerber.”

Wait. Back the fuck up.

Jeremy looks up the confused gaze of the only giant he will ever trust, kind grey eyes seeing the gears turning to try and understand why exactly the scene before Mike looks off. He knows it’s not ‘normal’ per say, but he can’t quite put his finger on why.

“W-W-W-We n-n-need more t-t-toaster waffles.”

A hum and a nod.

“Giant ones!”

A smirk.

“We’ll goddamn see.”