#cops 1922
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justbusterkeaton · 2 years ago
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friendlessghoul · 8 months ago
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Buster Keaton with his tie mustache disguise (and Virginia Fox) Cops (1922) & Hard Luck (1921)
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littleplasticthings · 1 year ago
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Cops, 1922
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nando161mando · 1 year ago
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Nabat" anarchists in prison, 1922 - photo found in the archives of the Security Service of Ukraine in Kyiv.
via Philip Ruff
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theinternetarchive · 2 months ago
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great films available on the internet archive part two
first post + the archive collection with all of them
la haine (1995) dir. mathieu kassovitz
carnival of souls (1962) dir. herk harvey
andrei tarkovsky's filmography
a nightmare on elm st. (1984) dir wes craven
possession (1981) dir. andrzej źuławski
the silence of the lambs (1991) dir. jonathan demme
safe (1995) dir. todd haynes
psycho (1960) dir. alfred hitchcock
cops (1922) dir. buster keaton
sherlock jr (1924) dir. buster keaton
when harry met sally... (1989) dir. rob rainer
the bride of frankenstein (1935) dir. james whale
man with a movie camera (1927) dir. dziga vertov
coffee and cigarettes (2003) dir. jim jarmusch
m (1931) dir. fritz lang
it happened one night (1934) dir. frank capra
casablanca (1942) dir. michael curtiz
purple noon (1960) dir. rene clement
carrie (1976) dir. brian de palma
eraserhead (1977) dir. david lynch
they live (1988) dir. john carpenter
female trouble (1974) dir. john waters
do the right thing (1989) dir. spike lee
wings (1927) dir. william a wellman
fallen angels (1995) dir. wong kar wai
velvet goldmine (1998) dir. todd haynes
black panthers (1968) dir. agnes varda
american psycho (2000) dir. mary harron
the manchurian candidate (1962) dir. john frankenheimer
girlfriends (1978) dir. claudia weill
more to come ♡ glad you all like movies.
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blondebrainpowered · 5 months ago
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Cops, 1922
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logray · 10 months ago
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COPS! (1922) dir. Edward F. Cline & Buster Keaton THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN 2 (2014) dir. Marc Webb
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literaryvein-reblogs · 7 months ago
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121 Words & Phrases for Dying
A remarkable creativity surrounds the vocabulary of death. The words and expressions range from the solemn and dignified to the jocular and mischievous.
Old English
swelt/forswelt ⚜ give up the ghost ⚜ dead ⚜ i-wite
wend ⚜ forworth ⚜ go out of this world ⚜ quele ⚜ starve
c.1135 — 1600s
die (c.1135) ⚜ fare (c.1175) ⚜ end; let; shed (one’s own) blood (c.1200)
yield (up) the ghost (c.1290) ⚜ take the way of death (1297)
die up; fall; fine; leave; spill; tine (c.1300)
leese one’s life-days (c.1325) ⚜ part (c.1330)
flit (c.1340) ⚜ trance; pass (1340) ⚜ determine (c.1374)
disperish (c.1382) ⚜ be gathered to one’s fathers (1382)
miscarry (c.1387) ⚜ go; shut (1390)
expire; flee; pass away; seek out of life; sye; trespass (c.1400)
decease (1439) ⚜ ungo (c.1450) ⚜ have the death (1488)
vade (1495) ⚜ depart (1501) ⚜ pay one’s debt to nature (c.1513)
galp (1529) ⚜ go west (c.1532) ⚜ pick over the perch (1532)
die the death (1535) change one’s life; jet (1546)
play tapple up tail (1573) ⚜ inlaik (1575) ⚜ finish (1578) ⚜ relent (1587)
unbreathe (1589) ⚜ transpass (1592) ⚜ lose one’s breath (1596)
go off (1605) ⚜ make a die (of it) (1611) ⚜ fail (1613)
go home (1618) ⚜ drop (1654) ⚜ knock off (c.1657) ⚜ ghost (1666)
go over to the majority (1687) ⚜ march off (1693)
bite the ground/sand/dust; die off; pike (1697)
1700s — 1960s
pass to one’s reward (1703) ⚜ sink; vent (1718) ⚜ demise (1727)
slip one’s cable (1751) ⚜ turf (1763) ⚜ move off (1764)
kick the bucket (1785) pass on (1805) exit (1806)
launch into eternity (1812) ⚜ go to glory (1814) ⚜ sough (1816)
hand in one’s accounts (1817) ⚜ croak (1819)
slip one’s breath (1819) ⚜ stiffen (1820) ⚜ buy it (1825)
drop short (1826) ⚜ fall a sacrifice to (1839)
go off the hooks (1840) ⚜ succumb (1849) ⚜ step out (1851)
walk (forth) (1858) ⚜ snuff out (1864) ⚜ go/be up the flume (1865)
pass out (c.1867) ⚜ cash in one’s checks (1869) ⚜ peg out (1870)
go bung (1882) ⚜ get one’s call (1884) ⚜ perch (1886) ⚜ off it (1890)
knock over (1892) ⚜ pass in (1904) ⚜ the silver cord is loosed (1911)
pip (out) (1913) ⚜ cop it (1915) ⚜ stop one (1916) ⚜ conk (out) (1918)
cross over (1920) ⚜ kick off (1921) ⚜ shuffle off (1922)
pack up (1925) ⚜ step off (1926) ⚜ take the ferry (1928)
meet one’s Maker (1933) ⚜ kiss off (1945)
have had it (1952) ⚜ crease it (1959) ⚜ zonk (1968)
The list displays a remarkable inventiveness, as people struggle to find fresh forms of expression.
The language of death is inevitably euphemistic, but few of the verbs or idioms shown here are elaborate or opaque.
In fact the history of verbs for dying displays a remarkable simplicity: 86 of the 121 entries (over 70%) consist of only one syllable, and monosyllables figure largely in the multi-word entries (such as pay one’s debt to nature).
Only 16 verbs are disyllabic, and only 3 are trisyllabic (determine, disperish, miscarry), loanwords from French, and along with expire, trespass, and decease showing the arrival of a more scholarly vocabulary in the 14th and 15th centuries.
Even the euphemisms of later centuries have a markedly monosyllabic character.
Some constructions evidently have permanent appeal because of their succinct and enigmatic character, such as the popularity of ‘____ it’ (whatever the ‘it’ is): snuff it, peg it, buy it, cop it, off it, crease it, have had it.
It’s possible to see changes in fashion, such as the vogue for colloquial usages in "off" in the middle of the 18th century (move off, pop off, pack off, hop off ).
And styles change: we no longer feel that "pass out" would be appropriate on a tombstone. But some things don’t change. Pass away has been with us since the 14th century. And, in a usage that dates back to the 12th, we still do say that people, simply, died.
Source ⚜ More: Word Lists ⚜ Notes & References ⚜ Historical Thesaurus
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writingwithcolor · 1 year ago
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My alternate universe fantasy colonial Hong Kong is more authoritarian and just as racist but less homophobic than in real life, should I change that?
@floatyhands asked:
I’m a Hongkonger working on a magical alternate universe dystopia set in what is basically British colonial Hong Kong in the late 1920s. My main character is a young upper middle-class Eurasian bisexual man.  I plan to keep the colony’s historical racial hierarchy in this universe, but I also want the fantasy quirks to mean that unlike in real life history, homosexuality was either recently decriminalized, or that the laws are barely enforced, because my boy deserves a break. Still, the institutions are quite homophobic, and this relative tolerance might not last. Meanwhile, due to other divergences (e.g. eldritch horrors, also the government’s even worse mishandling of the 1922 Seamen's Strike and the 1925 Canton-Hong Kong Strike), the colonial administration is a lot more authoritarian than it was in real history. This growing authoritarianism is not exclusive to the colony, and is part of a larger global trend in this universe.  I realize these worldbuilding decisions above may whitewash colonialism, or come off as choosing to ignore one colonial oppression in favor of exaggerating another. Is there any advice as to how I can address this issue? (Maybe I could have my character get away by bribing the cops, though institutional corruption is more associated with the 1960s?) Thank you!
Historical Precedent for Imperialistic Gay Rights
There is a recently-published book about this topic that might actually interest you: Racism And The Making of Gay Rights by Laurie Marhoefer (note: I have yet to read it, it’s on my list). It essentially describes how the modern gay rights movement was built from colonialism and imperialism. 
The book covers Magnus Hirschfeld, a German sexologist in the early 1900s, and (one of) his lover(s), Li Shiu Tong, who he met in British Shanghai. Magnus is generally considered to have laid the groundwork for a lot of gay rights, and his research via the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft was a target of Nazi book-burnings, but he was working with imperial governments in an era where the British Empire was still everywhere. 
Considering they both ended up speaking to multiple world leaders about natural human sexual variation both in terms of intersex issues and sexual attraction, your time period really isn’t that far off for people beginning to be slightly more open-minded—while also being deeply imperialist in other ways.
The thing about this particular time period is homosexuality as we know it was recently coming into play, starting with the trial of Oscar Wilde and the rise of Nazism. But between those two is a pretty wildly fluctuating gap of attitudes.
Oscar Wilde’s trial is generally considered the period where gay people, specifically men who loved men, started becoming a group to be disliked for disrupting social order. It was very public, very scandalous, and his fall from grace is one of the things that drove so many gay and/or queer men underground. It also helped produce some of the extremely queercoded classical literature of the Victorian and Edwardian eras (ex: Dracula), because so many writers were exploring what it meant to be seen as such negative forces. A lot of people hated Oscar Wilde for bringing the concept to such a public discussion point, when being discreet had been so important.
But come the 1920s, people were beginning to wonder if being gay was that bad, and Mangus Hirschfeld managed to do a world tour of speaking come the 1930s, before all of that was derailed by wwii. He (and/or Li Shiu Tong) were writing papers that were getting published and sent to various health departments about how being gay wasn’t an illness, and more just an “alternative” way of loving others. 
This was also the era of Boston Marriages where wealthy single women lived together as partners (I’m sure there’s an mlm-equivalent but I cannot remember or find it). People were a lot less likely to care if you kept things discreet, so there might be less day to day homophobia than one would expect. Romantic friendships were everywhere, and were considered the ideal—the amount of affection you could express to your same-sex best friend was far above what is socially tolerable now.
Kaz Rowe has a lot of videos with cited bibliographies about various queer disasters [affectionate] of the late 1800s/early 1900s, not to mention a lot of other cultural oddities of the Victorian era (and how many of those attitudes have carried into modern day) so you can start to get the proper terms to look it up for yourself.
I know there’s a certain… mistrust of specifically queer media analysts on YouTube in the current. Well. Plagiarism/fact-creation scandal (if you don’t know about the fact-creation, check out Todd in the Shadows). I recommend Kaz because they have citations on screen and in the description that aren’t whole-cloth ripped off from wikipedia’s citation list (they’ve also been published via Getty Publications, a museum press). 
For audio-preferring people (hi), a video is more accessible than text, and sometimes the exposure to stuff that’s able to pull exact terms can finally get you the resources you need. If text is more accessible, just jump to the description box/transcript and have fun. Consider them and their work a starting place, not a professor. 
There is always a vulnerability in learning things, because we can never outrun our own confirmation bias and we always have limited time to chase down facts and sources—we can only do our best and be open to finding facts that disprove what we researched prior.
Colonialism’s Popularity Problem
Something about colonialism that I’ve rarely discussed is how some colonial empires actually “allow” certain types of “deviance” if that deviance will temporarily serve its ends. Namely, when colonialism needs to expand its territory, either from landing in a new area or having recently messed up and needing to re-charm the population.
By that I mean: if a fascist group is struggling to maintain popularity, it will often conditionally open its doors to all walks of life in order to capture a greater market. It will also pay its spokespeople for the privilege of serving their ends, often very well. Authoritarians know the power of having the token supporter from a marginalized group on payroll: it both opens you up directly to that person’s identity, and sways the moderates towards going “well they allow [person/group] so they can’t be that bad, and I prefer them.”
Like it or not, any marginalized group can have its fascist members, sometimes even masquerading as the progressives. Being marginalized does not automatically equate to not wanting fascism, because people tend to want fascist leaders they agree with instead of democracy and coalition building. People can also think that certain people are exaggerating the horrors of colonialism, because it doesn’t happen to good people, and look, they accept their friends who are good people, so they’re fine. 
A dominant fascist group can absolutely use this to their advantage in order to gain more foot soldiers, which then increases their raw numbers, which puts them in enough power they can stop caring about opening their ranks, and only then do they turn on their “deviant” members. By the time they turn, it’s usually too late, and there’s often a lot of feelings of betrayal because the spokesperson (and those who liked them) thought they were accepted, instead of just used.
You said it yourself that this colonial government is even stricter than the historical equivalent—which could mean it needs some sort of leverage to maintain its popularity. “Allowing” gay people to be some variation of themselves would be an ideal solution to this, but it would come with a bunch of conditions. What those conditions are I couldn’t tell you—that’s for your own imagination, based off what this group’s ideal is, but some suggestions are “follow the traditional dating/friendship norms”, “have their own gender identity slightly to the left of the cis ideal”, and/or “pretend to never actually be dating but everyone knows and pretends to not care so long as they don’t out themselves”—that would signal to the reader that this is deeply conditional and about to all come apart. 
It would, however, mean your poor boy is less likely to get a break, because he would be policed to be the “acceptable kind of gay” that the colonial government is currently tolerating (not unlike the way the States claims to support white cis same-sex couples in the suburbs but not bipoc queer-trans people in polycules). It also provides a more salient angle for this colonial government to come crashing down, if that’s the way this narrative goes.
Colonial governments are often looking for scapegoats; if gay people aren’t the current one, then they’d be offered a lot more freedom just to improve the public image of those in power. You have the opportunity to have the strikers be the current scapegoats, which would take the heat off many other groups—including those hit by homophobia.
In Conclusion
Personally, I’d take a more “gays for Trump” attitude about the colonialism and their apparent “lack” of homophobia—they’re just trying to regain popularity after mishandling a major scandal, and the gay people will be on the outs soon enough.
You could also take the more nuanced approach and see how imperialism shaped modern gay rights and just fast-track that in your time period, to give it the right flavour of imperialism. A lot of BIPOC lgbtqa+ people will tell you the modern gay rights movement is assimilationalist, colonialist, and other flavours of ick, so that angle is viable.
You can also make something that looks more accepting to the modern eye by leaning heavily on romantic friendships that encouraged people waxing poetic for their ��best friends”, keeping the “lovers” part deeply on the down low, but is still restrictive and people just don’t talk about it in public unless it’s in euphemisms or among other same-sex-attracted people because there’s nothing wrong with loving your best friend, you just can’t go off and claim you’re a couple like a heterosexual couple is.
Either way, you’re not sanitizing colonialism inherently by having there be less modern-recognized homophobia in this deeply authoritarian setting. You just need to add some guard rails on it so that, sure, your character might be fine if he behaves, but there are still “deviants” that the government will not accept. 
Because that’s, in the end, one of the core tenants that makes a government colonial: its acceptance of groups is frequently based on how closely you follow the rules and police others for not following them, and anyone who isn’t their ideal person will be on the outs eventually. But that doesn’t mean they can’t have a facade of pretending those rules are totally going to include people who are to the left of those ideals, if those people fit in every other ideal, or you’re safe only if you keep it quiet.
~ Leigh
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busterkeatonsociety · 4 months ago
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Movie Monday - Buster Keaton is the bomb! On the Run from the Law from all sides, “Cops,” 1922, provides the best chase scenes in Buster’s short-film career.
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bleedingcoffee42 · 2 months ago
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Held off on this because it's becoming disheartening to see a lot of the BoB Tumblr research reposted or remastered with dubious credit, but at the end of the day I really want people to know about Norma Jean Darland Grant, Chuck Grant's wife.
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Norma, I don't even know where to start with you. As I dive into the records to find people and make their stories known, nobody has had so much tragedy and absolutely bizarre circumstances revolving around their lives as you. I've never wanted to reach back in time and give someone a hug so badly as I do with this lady. I hope Chuck was your sunshine, I hope you found happiness, I wish you were not the victim of circumstances beyond your control.
Norma was born in Mahaska. Co, Iowa on February 11, 1923. Her father George was a farmer. Her mother Mable Moody Darland , was the daughter of a farmer. She had an older brother Donald. In 1925 they moved to Newton, Iowa, then ended up in Detroit.
Full stop, because George Darland...holy shit did this guy get into everything. And I do mean unbelievable non-stop news. In 1920 George was tearing down a cow barn with his father in law, barn collapses, father in law gets scalped. They have to take William Moody to town on a stretcher, George has a broken shoulder and helps carry him, Moody ends up with 21 stitches and no broken bones. In 1921 George , recently recovered from pneumonia, pulls some Oregon Trail shit and tries to get to his corn farming island in the river when the ferry rope broke, wagon fell off the barge, his team drowns and he almost drowns under one of them. Even the paper is like "damn, this is the unluckiest guy in Iowa." Oh...it's only 1921. Just wait.
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He also got into a fight with some guy in town and got busted up earlier that summer, something about a cheese knife and billiard cue and- no- the article does not explain that. Oh, and don't forget the spreading viper he decided to catch in September. Throw in a modest sprained ankle in 1922. There are a few years without news, and I am sure it's just because it's not available to us a 100 years later, yet.
Mable Moody Darland dies in Detroit in 1929, of diffuse peritonitis, after what appears to have been a two year stint in the city to work at Braggs Mfg. After Mable dies, George goes home and the kids are at his parents in Barnes City while he heads to Des Moines to work for his brother. In 1930 Norma Jean writes to Santa and breaks my heart.
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However, earlier that year in 1930 George gets involved in the B.O. Darland Grocery Store bullshit and gets shot. Here's the story.: There is a cop, William J. Aiken, who lives a few houses down from George's brother Bert and his family. George's brother Bert has a grocery store on the corner. George is working for him even though the census says he's a mechanic. Mrs. Aiken might be getting more than groceries from Darland's Grocery store. Husband goes to drag her out of the store, punches Bert, draws a gun, gun goes off and George is shot in the leg, then Aiken kicks the shit out of his wife all while Aiken's partner sits in the car and doesn't watch. Trial ensues, Aiken says he used the gun as a club to defend himself and doesn't know who's finger pulled the trigger. Front page Des Moines news, complete with maps! The Judge dismissed the case against Aiken, but Aiken loses his job as detective, and is also later arrested for bootlegging. Wild Norma has not one, but two, men in her life who get shot for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. This poor girl.
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It seems George rebounded and found a new Mabel to marry, Mabel Kerr in 1931. Mabel #2's husband Jack, a coal miner who had been working the mines since he was orphaned at 9, was arrested for bootlegging. That left her and their 6 children out of luck as Jack was sentenced to 3 months in jail and a fine of $300. Well, along came the unluckiest guy in Iowa and they were married at her sister's house in Raritan, Illinois in 1931. (If you think Raritan sounds familiar it's because Raritan, NJ was home of Basilone. The Raritan River was where the Nixon Nitration Works was located on. People from this area in NJ left in the 1850s to go start a town with NJ names in Illinois just to fuck with me.)
In 1932 in Tracey, Iowa the schoolhouse George and family are living in, burns down. How much family? Unclear.
1933 rolls around. In Des Moines, Darland's Grocery-- Bert specifically--gets robbed at gunpoint March 16, for $15, milk, sugar, butter and eggs. The same day Jack Kerr visits his family in Albia. George dies March 30, 1933 in Oskaloosa?(maybe?) and I have no idea how. Mabel #2 moves on an remarries in 1938, and her Kerr kids go with her and the Darland kids eventually go west with the Darland family to LA. Norma lives with her aunt Mrytle Darland Morrow and goes to school in Santa Monica. Bert Darland moves west too, restarts the grocery business out there and sells it a few times. He avoids being shot, but a poodle did bite him at one point and couldn't be found so Bert probably got a lot of painful Rabies shots.
George is buried in Bellefontaine Cemetery where Mable #1 is, along with loads of Mable #2 family. There is a death notice in the paper, no obit. 'What Killed George Darland' haunts me because this man survived so much and there is no news about what finally got him.
Back to Norma . She goes to Santa Monica High School. Joins the World Friendship Club and Riding Club. In 1938 is at a party celebrating the engagement of her cousin Thelma. She joins the marines in 1943 and by war's end is a corporal. She is stationed at Miramar in San Diego, muster roll says she is with the aviation women's reserve squadron. In 1945 is maid of honor for a fellow marine friend. On her marriage certificate in Nov 1946 she lists her residence as Santa Monica.
How does she meet Chuck Grant who at this point has been out of the hospital a year and is dealing with paralysis and speech issues? Another burning question. However in November 1946 they go to Vegas with Chuck's friend Keith Morgan and his wife and get married. They move to San Diego where she becomes a cashier at the Naval Training Station. 40 hours a week as a payroll clerk. Chuck is used as an example of Navy efforts to assist wounded veterans in a newspaper article, possibly because Norma is working there. They have their first son Dan in 1947 and Charles Jr in 1951.
Then in September 8, 1954, Norma ODs. 7am Chuck goes to the bedroom and finds her, takes the kids to a friends house in Clairemont, and returns to call the cops at 9:15 am and answer questions. He told the detective he wanted to spare the kids the details of their mother's death and didn't want them present from the inquiry. It is ultimately ruled a suicide by the coroner, overdose by barbiturates.
Norma Jean Darland Grant was cremated and is buried in Rosecrans military cemetery in San Diego under her maiden name. I don't know if Chuck just signed off on paperwork and didn't correct it or what. The burial form stipulates there are interment rights in her grave but he ends up buried in Forest Lawn in LA instead.
Norma was 31 years old. From what we can tell, Chuck never remarried.
Thank you to @noneedtoamputate for caring about Chuck and his family and going on this journey of research into the Darlands. For every fact we unearth, we still gain no insight into Chuck's personality. But we've earned those Oregon Trail T-Shirts for learning about George. Thank you for listening to my screaming in the inbox because every. damned. person in Chuck Grant's orbit has some truly messed up shit in their lives. This post is a summary of months of research that has been interesting for sure.
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justbusterkeaton · 1 year ago
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Cops (1922)
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friendlessghoul · 8 months ago
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Buster Keaton Cops (1922)
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streda · 1 year ago
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Buster Keaton
Born Joseph Francis Keaton on October 4, 1895, was an American director and actor who became famous for various comedy scenes that are still repeated in films today. You may recognize him from the nickname "the man with the stone face". He is known as a director, screenwriter and actor in famous silent comedies such as "The General" and "The Navigator".
Keaton was born into a vaudeville family in Piqua, Kansas. His name Joseph didn't come out of nowhere, it was a family tradition from his father's side. The nickname Buster was invented by Harry Houdini (a friend of his parents) when little Buster fell down the stairs and instead of crying or reacting in any way, he got up and moved on (The nickname was also a reference to the fact that he often caused trouble as a child). At the age of three, Keaton began performing with his parents in The Three Keatons. He first appeared on stage in 1899 in Wilmington, Delaware. The act was mainly a comedy sketch. Despite his run-ins with the law, Keaton was a rising and relatively well-paid theater star. He stated that he learned to read and write late and was taught by his mother. When he was 21, his father's alcoholism threatened the reputation of the family actor, 20, so Keaton and his mother Myra went to New York, where Keaton's career quickly moved from vaudeville to film. Keaton served with the American Expeditionary Forces in France in the United States Army's 40th Infantry Division during World War I. His unit remained intact and was not broken up to provide replacements, as had been the case with some other late-arriving divisions. While in uniform, he contracted an ear infection that permanently damaged his hearing. Keaton was such a natural in his first film, "Butcher Boy," that he was hired on the spot. Finally, he asked to borrow one of the cameras to see how it worked. He took the camera back to his hotel room, where he disassembled and reassembled it by morning. He appeared in a total of 14 Arbuckle shorts, running into 1920. They were popular, and contrary to Keaton's later reputation as "The Great Stone Face", he often smiled and even laughed in them. In 1920, The Saphead was released, marking Keaton's first starring role in a feature-length feature film. After Keaton's successful collaboration with Arbuckle, Schenck gave him his own production unit, Buster Keaton Productions. He made a series of 19 two-reel comedies, including One Week (1920), The Playhouse (1921), Cops (1922), and The Electric House (1922).
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The more adventurous ideas called for dangerous stunts, performed by Keaton at great physical risk. During the railroad water-tank scene in Sherlock Jr. (gags written by Clyde Bruckman), Keaton broke his neck when a torrent of water fell on him from a water tower, but he did not realize it until years afterwards. A scene from Steamboat Bill, Jr. required Keaton to stand still on a particular spot. Then, the facade of a two-story building toppled forward on top of Keaton. Keaton's character emerged unscathed, due to a single open window. The stunt required precision, because the prop house weighed two tons, and the window only offered a few inches of clearance around Keaton's body. The sequence furnished one of the most memorable images of his career. Aside from Steamboat Bill, Jr. (1928), Keaton's most enduring feature-length films include Three Ages (1923), Our Hospitality (1923), The Navigator (1924), Sherlock Jr. (1924), Seven Chances (1925), The Cameraman (1928), and The General (1926). The General, set during the American Civil War, combined physical comedy with Keaton's love of trains, including an epic locomotive chase. Employing picturesque locations, the film's storyline reenacted an actual wartime incident. Though it would come to be regarded as Keaton's greatest achievement, the film received mixed reviews at the time. It was too dramatic for some filmgoers expecting a lightweight comedy, and reviewers questioned Keaton's judgment in making a comedic film about the Civil War, even while noting it had a "few laughs." it was an expensive dud, His distributor, United Artists, insisted on a production manager who monitored expenses and interfered with certain story elements. Keaton endured this treatment for two more feature films, and then exchanged his independent setup for employment at Hollywood's biggest studio, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM). Keaton's loss of independence as a filmmaker coincided with the coming of sound films (although he was interested in making the transition) and mounting personal problems, and his career in the early sound era was hurt as a result.
I guess that's it for Buster's success.
Keaton died of lung cancer on February 1, 1966, aged 70, in Woodland Hills, Los Angeles. Despite being diagnosed with cancer in January 1966, he was never told he was terminally ill. Keaton thought that he was recovering from a severe case of bronchitis. Confined to a hospital during his final days, Keaton was restless and paced the room endlessly, desiring to return home. In a British television documentary about his career, his widow Eleanor told producers from Thames Television that Keaton was up out of bed and moving around, and even played cards with friends who came to visit the day before he died. He was buried at Forest Lawn Memorial Park Cemetery in Hollywood Hills, California.
Keaton was presented with a 1959 Academy Honorary Award at the 32nd Academy Awards, held in April 1960. Keaton has two stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame: 6619 Hollywood Boulevard (for motion pictures); and 6225 Hollywood Boulevard (for television).
Three Ages (1923)
Our Hospitality (1923)
Sherlock Jr. (1924)
The Navigator (1924)
Seven Chances (1925)
The Cameraman (1928)
Go West (1925)
Battling Butler (1926)
The General (1926)
College (1927)
Steamboat Bill, Jr. (1928)
Spite Marriage (1929)
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hotvintagepoll · 7 months ago
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Edna May Oliver (Alice in Wonderland; Murder on a Honeymoon)— we're so back it's her time to shine shes scrungly to me for her snark and unique face. i called her the womens equivalent of the weird little guy when i submitted her for the main tournament and i was so right to say that. she used it to her advantage in her comedic performances, though her comments on her looks often came across as self defacing, commenting for example that despite her musical talents she never pursued theatre or opera primarily because "[with a horse face like mine] what else can i do but play comedy" well i just think shes swell is the thing! her performances as hildegarde withers give scrungle to me not due to appearance or weirdguy swag or the standard scrungly vibes i think most people judge characters by, but from the characters delicate balancing act between "NOT made for an investigative career" and "extremely fucking good at noticing details and therefore being SUITED for investigation"  
Max Schreck (Nosferatu)—He played Count friggin' Orlok in Nosferatu (the 1922 unlicensed adaptation of Dracula)! One of the most iconically scrungly performances in cinema history, with his ratlike face, claw-like hands, and jerky, stilted body language, Schreck was so convincing that people speculated he really was a vampire, a theory that was later adapted into 2000's Shadow of the Vampire feat. modern scrungly actor Willem Dafoe as vampire!Schreck. Schreck was scrungly in other movies, too, e.g. as The Sinister Conspirator in The Finances of the Grand Duke, but Orlok is by far his most significant, well-known and easily-viewable performance, and it's such a landmark that that alone should be enough to place him as one of the top-ranked scrungly actors of all time.
This is round 2 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you're confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.
[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]
Edna May Oliver:
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This woman's energy in literally all of her films is INSANE. Yeah she loves fiercely but boy is she also ready to kill. In A Tale of Two Cities (1935) she literally fights a woman to the death. She also played a female sleuth in the 1930s which I think is pretty fucking neat :)
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EDNA MY LOVE. a character actress extraordinaire and iconic female weird little guy (actually she was tall and spindly but weird little guy is a state of mind yn). she was frequently found in 30s and 40s movies playing a spinter aunt or something of that ilk, who was not about to take anybody's nonsense and had cutting retorts to spare. she also starred in a series of murder mysteries in which she is a DELIGHT as schoolteacher turned amateur detective hildegard withers, who waltzes in does the cops' jobs better than them and wears some really great hats. she pops up a lot in adaptations of classic literature, playing lady catherine de bourgh in pride and prejudice, the nurse in romeo and juliet, the red queen in the 1933 alice in wonderland which has an insane cast loaded with vintage scrunglers, aunt trotwood in david copperfield and others, but she was equally at home in modern comedies. whoever she was playing you know she probably had some hard truths and/or sharp witticisms to drop on everybody around her with her distinctive vocal delivery, or just volumes to speak with her terrifically expressive face.
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Max Schreck:
Most scrungly onscreen vampire has gotta be Count Orlock, (and the second is Willem Dafoe playing Max Shreck playing Count Orlock, so technically he takes up both the top spots)
Bizarre, fun, can’t look away - Literally blinks once
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authorsofghosts · 4 months ago
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Ides de March | James P. March x Reader
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Summery: The year is March, 1922. James Patrick March, of course, is looking forward to the perfect killing he's ever staged. The workshop title is just the day, Ides de March. Of course, being a friend of the same hobby, you want in on it.
Themes: 1920s, Angsty Fluff (it's James?), Graphic Descriptions of Violence, He Kills People™, Historical Accuracy, Predeath!March, Blood Talk (a lot of it), Cheesy and Lovey Dovey, Dancing, Kissing, Hand Holding (before marriage? gasp!), Racism mentions (KKK), You Kill a Cop!! Woo!!
Word Count: 1.2k
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James sat at the desk, smoking a cigar as jazz plays the background. You sit on the couch, legs crossed as you watch him stare into place, mesmerized by the focus on his face, despite him not having spoke in a long time.
He taps at the foot of the cigar, knocking it down against the ash tray before tucking it away and folding his arms against his desk. He finally looks in your direction, eyes wide as he smiles.
"My dear, we should get this going. It is almost sun down." His grin turns almost so wicked you can taste it. He trots over to you, putting a hand out with a slight bow. "May we dance?" He asks knowingly.
You stand, taking his hand and nod, "Of course, Mr. March"
James takes your hand, placing it on his shoulder while his other wraps around your waist, his lips brushing into your neck as he pulls you impossibly close, swaying the both of your bodies side to side. "You are incredible, darling. I can't believe we pulled it off."
"Oh, dear, don't humble me. You did most of the work. I was just the one that got all the addresses, allergies, schedules... oh, well it seems I did do most the works." You snicker slightly, swaying along to the gentle jazz that rings from the radio.
You're sent back to watching March, posing the bodies of the dozen of men, to match the painting "The Death of Julius Caesar". He had prepared for it for many weeks, his brain racking up the idea later one night when the both of you had been drinking absinthe and chatting philosophy.
"You see, dear, not only am I an artist, but a genius." He boasts, breaking a bone so it snaps in place on the support. "I figured out how to hang the string without even using a ladder, you know." He grins, eyes wild with blood lust, face dripping with crimson.
"Very interesting, darling." You coo, draping a cloth over the same corpse to mimic a Roman tunic. The fabric is the same color as the blood dripping onto the floor that you'll have to wipe up in a moment. "Sweetheart, you need to be more careful, you're tracking blood all around. If you step in it, you know you'll get caught."
"Nonsense, darling. I'm not the only man in all of the City of Angels that wears Goodyear Welts." He snickers, whipping a sleeve along his chin, looking down as the fabric is dyed claret with wonder and amusement.
"But I'm sure not most men are wide-foot, flat-footed, and wear a size 9." You scold, getting on your knee and wiping the blood dribbles up quickly. "You're a very unique man, my dear." You say as you smile up at him, batting your lashes ever so slightly.
"Oh, how you know me dear. It almost makes me feel like dancing right here and now, as if you made music." He smiles deeply, holding your cheek in one hand, rubbing a stripe of blood onto your skin. He laughs, his grin growing evermore joyous. "We should celebrate. But not now, there is too much to do. Come, on to the next one, chop chop."
You hurry along, taking his hand as he pulls you toward the bodies. As you see the faces, all older, white men. You knew this men as the ones you had picked; the racists, the bigots, the scum of Los Angeles that were all members of the rancid Klu Klux Klan that ran most of Southern California. You grimaced as you picked up a new cloth, rolling your eyes as you walked behind James, who carried the large Man's corpse.
"Is this him? Our Julius?" He asks, like a kid, bouncing with each step. He's beyond giddy. You had picked the man, a rewarded police officer and member of the KKK.
"Yes, he is, darling. Doesn't he look the part?" You smile, looking at the corpse in your lover's arms. His lifeless face was going me be glamorized by you with a little glue later, to match James' preference and vision.
March shimmies over to the spot between the rest of the already posed men, laying him down against a box, which was a stand in for the statue in the painting. He cleared his throat, grimacing as he realizes the pose will be much harder, lower to the ground. He snarls, dropping the body and stomping away, looking around frantically.
"James, honey..." You say, draping the cloth over the body and walking up to him, your hands shaking slightly before meeting his arm. He looks at you, a wild look in his almost black with how dilated his pupils are with rage. He softens as he sees your concern, shaking his head as he recognized his outburst. "We can do this. Together, right?" You smile, hand clasping his.
"Together. Yes, of course. How could I get anywhere without you, darling?" He grins, pulling you into his arms and turning you around, arms wrapped around your waist tightly as he nips at your neck with a slight growl. "My, we must be finishing up soon, before I create... more evidence to clean up."
You both chuckle and laugh as you help him pose the last body, and then letting him watch you create the face expressions with a tube of glue and time.
The night passes into early morning, the moon still hung in the sky as you make it back the the Hotel Cortez. James had Miss Evers bring up a bottle of the best for the both of you, one of your favorites he swore to you up and down he didn't kill for, promising he would if he had to, however.
You dance with him, drink, exchange whispers and secrets, sweet nothings and gentle kisses. If it weren't for the fact you both were tired from the entire night of propping dozen of heavy corpses of bigots and extremely under the influence, you might have seen the sun rise before hit the hay.
James and you wake up in the morning, a wonderful assortment of fruits and pancakes waiting for you. Your clothes from the night before are already washed clean of the blood stains and gore, pressed and ready for wear.
You watch your lover as he sits at the table, twiddling his fingers around his cigarette. He finally looks up at you, placing down his cigarette holder, standing and walking around the table to you. He presses the tip of his nose into your hair, the faintest hint of blood and your shampoo filling his nose, along with something uniquely you.
"My dear, I fear I might love you more than killing."
"Oh, really?" You ask bashfully, eyes wide as you look up at him. "You think of me so fondly, James?"
"Of course, sweetheart. You make my heart beat and my soul feel alive, much more than any kill has." He says softly, eye's staring into yours as he caresses your cheek softly, thumb pinching at the ball of it.
You smile as he leans down, your lips meeting his half way as he lowers himself, a slightly groan escaping his lips. "You're like a shining light, it burns red hot. Your aura is like nothing I've ever seen. Perfect for such a rare person."
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