#blonde albert kropp

[spectacularizm]

Wow.

All Quiet on the Western Front '30 was really impressive I'm ngl there were a lot of scenes where I was like "Damn this is even better than the others one and this was made in fuckin' 1930" and like Paul??? Help??? Lew Ayres' Paul is genuinely so goofy and adorable?? He was so cute istg and he seems so huggable I loved him This interpretation of Tjaden has to be my favourite hands-down. I'm not sure why, I just love how in-depth with him they got, since the other two movies don't really explore him much- also, He looks like how I'd imagine Tjaden- so it's just perfect. It was good though!! My favourite is still the 1979 film but like this is a jem. A couple things that put me off is the unenthusiastic acting in some parts, or sometimes Paul would be way too happy over something terrible, and I kept fucking laughing at some of the absolutely wild facial expressions everyone would make, AND HAMACHER WAS SO FUNNY AND FOR WHAT I WAS CRYING DURING THE ALBERT HOSPITAL SCENE AND THIS FUNKER IS LIKE "Nope! You still got legs! look! 1! 2! AHAHAHAH!" The fact Kemmerich and Albert are blonde kills me though idk why but it's so funny and why did they make Muller such an asshole also... it's very... Brutal. It was really good though and I cried so overall?? A very solid 10/10.

[vera-gemini]

Piano Man

I have to finish my Paul/Kemmerich fanfiction, but here is a short text that I wrote while listening to Billy Joel’s song. I will publish it on AO3 later, I think. 

Basically, we’re in 1923, Albert Kropp is playing piano every Saturday night and he feels sad. 

On Saturday’s night, a motley crew invades the seedy bar where I play the piano. My part-time job, as I call it, pays well - for seven hours a week, I get all the booze that I want. If I’m feeling generous, I “buy” a round of drinks for everyone.  A young man sits beside me. The battle of Passchendaele claimed his left eye ; the right one, dark blue, follows every movement of my hands. He always drinks a glass of the cheapest, strongest liquor he can find. His left hand is also missing, and small scars cover a side of his face. I don’t know if he ever saw that I had a prosthetic leg. Maybe that’s why he always comes… Along with a few prostitutes, he’s part of the regulars. Some middle-aged men attempt to mix with the crowd, but their elegant costumes clash with the other’s outfits. They ask me to play joyful songs, and I obey. No Liszt, Mozart, or Chopin here ; only drinking songs. Sometimes, a man recognizes me : “We were in the Second Company together, comrade. Don’t you remember me ?” I nod and shake his hand.  As the night goes on, people gather around me and my old black piano. Regularly, a fight erupts in the room, but I never pay attention to it - now I’m used to that . The fellow with the single blue eye never leaves before the bar closes. I don’t mind his presence, especially when he’s alone with me, at two in the morning. This is when I close my eyes. Suddenly, eight men appear ; their faces gleam in the dim, reddish light. The oldest is forty years old, thin, with a blond mustache and piercing blue eyes. Our dear old Kat. He left his wife and his children to be with us, what an honor ! A young man, whose delicate beauty I have always admired, sits next to me. Franz Kemmerich is a good piano player too, even better than me. His shyness prevents him from taking my place, but maybe we will try a duet one night… His lover, Paul Bäumer, holds his hand, his bright eyes beaming with quiet joy. He is my best friend. Another fellow, a sardonic smile on his face, sits on a bar stool. Müller always has a book in his hand, because he appears smarter with it - or that’s what he says. The plump one, Behm, smiles at me before sitting next to Müller. How does he always look so youthful ? We seem older than our ages, with our wrinkled foreheads and our bent shoulders. The three others are accompanied. Leer, the dandy of the group, brings a different woman each week. I wonder where he finds them in our small town : I suspect a majority of them are already married. Then Haie Westhus, his freckled, kind face leaning towards his plump little fiancée. He was so proud to present her to us… The last one is slightly withdrawn from us, but he seems content to see us all there. Detering never leaves his wife’s side ; sometimes, they bring me a good piece of cheese or delicious cherries.  Haie waltzes clumsily with his fiancée, Paul begs Franz to do the same, and Leer is too occupied with his new romantic conquest to dance. The others are quietly watching me. I love them all.  They stay with me until the owner taps on my shoulder and says : “Albert, we’re closing. It’s time to go.” Then they turn into mist, and I’m alone with him and the strange young man. He’s asleep on his chair, his light brown hair hiding his scarred face from us. When he wakes up, he simply says to me “I… I like it when you play late at night.”  I smile at him. My friends have all returned to their nameless graves, and I feel even lonelier than before. 

[spectacularizm]

Uh oh!

I'm watching the 1930's adaptation of All Quiet for the first time tonight 'n' I'm excited and nervous I dunno what to expect other than the terrifying beast that is BLONDE ALBERT!!!! Anyway yeah I'll update once it's done! I really wonder what the other classmates are gonna look like..