#despise weathermen

[acommonloon]

Unruly weather about. Other than death, destruction, and delay of your regularly scheduled programming, weathermen on broadcast are the worst. A combination of manic paparazzi and ambulance chasers.

[eerythingisshaka]

Signs of Rain

[Y’lan Noel x Reader]

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings:  Just fluffer!

A/N:  This is my first non-Black Panther character/actor related fic (that I have shared anyway)  But it is just as relevant as the others.  This one goes out to @afraiddreamingandloving [my sister from another mister, my security detail, my alarm clock, my DJ, my tea and crumpets (sorry)] for introducing me to Luke James’ ‘Signs of Rain’ a while back.  It has been rainy so much where I am that I have had the song on repeat almost constantly and a lil fic inspo came from it so there!

Walking up to his car, you feel nerves begin to dance within you.  You hadn’t seen him in such a long time, you wondered if he would even recognize you still.  He is sitting on the roof of his car, and old school Cadillac he has put his soul into refurbishing.  He always had a thing for tinkering, couldn’t keep his hands still for a minute before he was taking things apart and most of the time unsuccessfully reassembling them; but he was good once he got into a trade.  Working with machinery did wonders for his frame, as you studied his back muscles through his shirt.  A wide back was something of a sixth sense for you to notice and he was speaking your language.

“Hey,”  you say in a pleasant tone once you make it to him.

He turns to surprised by your voice before his expressions softens at the sight of you.  “Hey, girl.  How you doin?” His smile widens, his complexion accents the perfect assembly of teeth, shining like an “OPEN” sign.  

He gets down from the car to open his arms to you, and you reciprocate, bringing him in close to you.  His body is warm and welcoming on the cooler than normal summer evening as he held you tightly.  His beard tickled the side of your face as your hands rest on his back, solid.  It took everything in you not to claw at it, but you gave him a good friendly rub instead.  His scent gave you a sense that he loved the Lord but would certainly make you cry, which you got plenty of back in y’alls day.

Breaking from the hug, you answer his question.  “I’m good, Y’lan.  You look...great!  How you been?”

He gives a cough like laugh, “Aw, see the man’s supposed to compliment first, but cat caught my tongue when I seen you.  Thanks though.  You ain’t changed a bit...but for the better.”

You feel a blush coming up to your cheeks as he charmed the stress right off of you.  Y’lan gave off real casanova vibes, but he really was a dork at heart.  You remember when you first met him, he couldn’t look straight at you the whole time you and your friends were around him and his.  You thought he hated your guts, but it just turned out he was so nervous to talk to you, he turned incredibly shy.  You worked that out of him eventually.

“Oh, stop.  I ain’t had no time to get my makeup and hair straight before you called me.  I really am a mess.”  You say as Y’lan motions for you to pop a squat on the hood of his car next to him.

“Tsk, you still worried about looking on point 24/7, huh?  You know I never been one to ask you to look a certain way because-”

“-because I always looked like a million dollars dropped in your lap, I know.  I remember.”  You say with a slight eye roll.  Y’lan was your biggest fan when you were dating.  He made sure you never felt inadequate, showering you with compliments, gifts, PDA, and more.  It wasn’t that you didn’t believe him, but you always felt like you needed to keep up or the compliments would stop.

Y’lan gave a quick chuckle at your sarcastic reiteration of his words as he looked off into the setting sun.  The rays cast over his skin, giving his arms and profile gold edges against his deep melanin tone.  “I say what I mean, and I mean it, (Y/N).”

You rub your legs to stay warm.  “So what are you doing in town, then?”  You ask to move the conversation.

Y’lan shrugs, “I had some time off to come through,  Wanted to clear my head, time on the road does that pretty good for me.”

You wondered if he had known you broke up with your former flame before deciding to ‘come through’.  You turn to him curiously.  “But why did you call me?  We hadn’t seen each other in almost two years, man.”

Y’lan scratched his beard, causing you to catch sight of his knuckles; another weakness of yours.  His hands were strong and rough from his trade work and they knew their way around you at one time.  “I couldn’t come by without seeing you.”

“Why, though?”  you press him.

Y’lan sighs.  “You really finna grill me right now?  Instead of enjoying this beautiful evening?”

“Y’lan, you left me, remember?  You couldn’t stand to be around me anymore.  You felt like I was bringing you down and holding you back from whatever the hell, I still don’t know!  And then just out of the blue, you call me up and say you’re in town and to meet at our spot -- what if I have a man?  This would be inappropriate!”

Y’lan licks his lips staring at the ground, “Do you?”

“That’s known of your business --”

He cuts you off, “Why can’t you be straight with me?  That was one problem, if you want me to be honest.  You always wanted to beat me to the punch, when I never meant a bad word to you.”

You cross your arms, “You never asked me why though!  You just brush it under the rug and tell me to quit playing.  Did you ever think about why I did that?”

Y’lan looks at you, poker face. “Of course I did.  But I guess I wasn’t asking the way you wanted me to ask.  Life ain’t a movie, (Y/N).  Shit ain’t scripted and-and beautifully monologued with a orchestra.  Sometimes you just gotta do things yourself and quit expecting others to pull it out of you like a magic trick.”

You sucked your teeth as it pained you to admit.  “You made me feel like magic.  You gave me Disney Prince and happily ever after every damn day we were together, ok?”

Y’lan rubs his temples.  “Then what is it?  What made you...despise me in the end?”

You do a double take to him when he says this.  As quick as you were about to snap him up, you melted at his response.  You never despised him, you couldn’t.  He treated you like a goddess, like the last good woman on earth was all his, he practically worshipped the ground you walked on.  He held his hands together looking off into the distance as he waited for your your response tensely.  The sun had set by now, letting the stars illuminate your surroundings.  The parts of his skin that once reflected gold were now replaced with a bluish hue.

You took a deep breath and spoke softly.  “I never despised you, Y’lan.  I hate that you ever thought that of me.  I could never hate you.”

He holds his hands out before clapping them together, “So what?  And?”

You rub your hands together nervously.  “You were too good.  I didn’t feel worthy to be with you.”  Y’lan turned his gaze to you.   You wanted to caress his wide face, but you had to keep talking.  “I guess I felt like God was playing a trick on me or something?  Like, if He gave me something this good in my life, then shit must be ready to hit the fan any minute.  I was used to that pattern.  But, shit never happened.  It was always good with us, I just doubted my worth, our chemistry, and...it cost a lot.”

Y’lan nodded slowly, digesting your words.  “Wow.  So, like in the movies, when a character gets their fortune told that they gonna die, and they try everything to avoid it but end up doing something that causes it anyway?”

You look off confusedly, “Uhh, yeah I guess so.  Something like that.”  You both giggle at the morbid comparison.  You felt like a weight was taken from around your shoulders.  You finally got all of your feelings out to Y’lan after all this time.  You were grateful you picked up his call tonight.  

Y’lan leaned on his widened knees anxiously, “Soooo, what do we do now?”

You shrug looking up at the sky, “Enjoy the sights a little more maybe?”

“I smells like it’s gonna rain, though.”  Y’lan says sniffing the air.

“Tsk, the weathermen ain’t never completely on point.  That’s probably for a storm further south of us.”

Y’lan bares those pearly whites again.  “Mhm, you know best.”

You push him lightly, “And don’t forget it, Jack!”

You and Y’lan lay back on his car to point out constellations and make up ones on your own.  You could watch them all day, just lying next to him.  It really felt like old times between the two of you as you all point to the sky, hands occasionally brushing against each other, sending shockwaves through your body.  You didn’t know how to approach a conversation of romance but you were fine with just laying together as friends.  

A clap of thunder shakes you both as it snaps you out of your little world.

“Whoa, that sounded close.” Y’lan said sitting up and checking the sky.

“Yeah.  Maybe just five more minutes and we can dip?”

Just as you offered that up, the clouds open; unleashing buckets on top of both of.

“Oh, shit!”  Y’lan exclaimed, jumping off the car.

“Fuck fuck FUCK!”  You jump off to headed to the passenger side of his car.

Y’lan gets his door open and hops in.  You try the door, still locked.  “Y’lan!  Come on!  Hurry up!”  

You see a little through the window as he reaches for the lock; nothing but teeth.

You slide in, slamming the door shut.  “Y’lan!  What the fuck was that about!  I’m soaked as hell now!”  You pull his visor down to your hair wrecked and what little makeup you put on washing away.

Y’lan leans back, his hand resting on the back of your seat.  “I thought you didn’t put no makeup on for me?”

You freeze in your lie.  “Uhhhh…”

“See?  You need to be straight with me!  It’s all good though.”

You scoff at him.  “Shiiiit, be straight with me:  you left me out there longer on purpose.”

Y’lan sucks his teeth, “Man, see -”

“Don’t blame this old ass car!  I saw your grin, you liked seeing me struggle!”  you feigned hurt as you squeezed your shirt and wiped your face.  

“My bad, (Y/N).  I did get too carried away.  You want my shirt?”  

You think this over a minute as the fabric of your clung to you like an icy leech, “Uh, well…”

He looked embarrassed before looking away, clutching the steering wheel.  “I mean, just until you get home.  Unless your dude would have issue-”

“I don’t have a man, Y’lan.”  You confess looking through the window away from him.

There’s a moment of silence, soundtracked by the pitter patter of the fat droplets crashing into the windshield.  You remain still, trying to control your breathing as you feel like you should say something more significant, like you want him back.  But he had a life away from you, no way he could go back to the shit he had with you.  Y’all just hashed out your past differences ten minutes ago!

Y’lan continues, “Well uh, just let me know what you need and when you ready to leave.  I can take you back.  I know the rain makes you nervous.”

You shake your head looking at him, “Not as much anymore.  Your little trick kind of worked.”

Y’lan makes an impressed expression, “For real?”

“Mhm.  The lightning is like a part of Mother Nature, right?  So when I see it, it’s like her stretch marks just coming across.”

Y’lan nodded, looking down at your legs for a split second, “Some of the most beautiful paths are made in nature…”  A bolt of lightning flashes above you all, illuminating the car as you look in Y’lan’s eyes.  You’ve seen that stare before, a warning sign.

“Mhm...When it thunders-”  Almost like on cue, a crash of thunder makes your body jump.

Y’lan rests a hand on your arm with concern, “You ok?”

You nod, “The thunder is just the crash of our-”

“-bodies, intertwined….Yeah, maybe that could use an update.”  Y’lan smiled weakly as he rests his hands on his widened lap.  Any time he manspreads was acceptable to you; showed confidence, authority, and that he had plenty to hang loose.

You felt waves beginning to flow beneath you as your mind wandered to when his lap was your favorite seat in the house.  You felt yourself getting colder though and couldn’t stand your shirt much longer.  

“Ok, take off your shirt.  I need to get these wet clothes off.”  

Y’lan looked at you a moment, taken aback by your request but obliged, taking his shirt off.  Your shirt being wet, was more of a struggle as you it kept rolling and tugging at your skin instead of sliding off.

You could tell your struggling was taking a while as Y’lan’s hand worked the neck from off your head slowly but surely until you popped out.  Y’lan’s face was closer to yours than you expected.  His wide shoulders bare, made you want to kiss them.  Your shirt was still tangled on your arms between you as Y’lan held them.  His gaze stayed locked on your face as his forehead crinkled up with anticipation.   The yearning began to grow as you waited for a cue, a sign that this wasn’t a dream, a split in the time/space continuum  making time slow down a second.   You couldn’t hold back, you wouldn’t if in this very moment you were given the opportunity to let your emotions take over for what you truly wanted.  

Soon as he batted his lashes down to look at your mouth you dove into him.  Grabbing his face, clutching his beard, you meld your mouth into his giving him all the information he needed.  Your tongues danced effortlessly as his grip on your arms got stronger.  You hand grazed along his arm, feeling the scar from his Kappa days that he boasted about way too often on how it made him a man.  You always corrected him and said you did instead.  Taking a breath, your mouths smack apart, as you nibble on his bottom lip.

“(Y/N), I don’t wanna be broken up no more.”  Y’lan said hoarsely as he tries to pull you to him.

You pull away, “I don’t want to be either.”  You take your shirt off completely, freeing you from your bind as you hug his neck, running your hands down his taut abdomen, decorated with signs of his manliness you adored:  tufts of hair, muscles contracting under your touch.  You pull from him to make your way to the back seat of the car.  

Once seated, you look to Y’lan.  “You always knew how to make me feel beautiful, and your touch hasn’t left me yet.  No one could do it like you.”  You say as you work to undo your bra, no longer were you cold from the outside weather. A flash of light illuminate the car again, allowing you to capture Y’lan’s expression more clearly as his mouth sits slightly agape, in awe, lost in your beauty.  

“It’s easy to find beauty in you, no doubt.  That’s why I need you to stay mine, so nobody can claim it for theirs.”  Y’lan’s tone was weighed down with passion as his baritone shook your core for what was to come as he crawled to join you in the back.  

The moisture that once left you chilly now fogged up the windows as you both enjoyed each other once more.  His touch stoked your fire as you rediscovered one another’s pleasures.  The spatters of rain were drowned out by the smacks of your kisses to one another, moaning to each other sweet nothings of bliss and eroticism.  Thunder, overran by the chorus of skin slapping against one another over and over as he sent waves of pleasure over your body .  You couldn’t believe you let this feeling go a while back, but you’d be damned if you made the same mistake twice.

Other Works

King Kil’mawalls  

T’akia

N’Jadaka’s Helpful Hands

Some Weeks Are Better Than Others

The Coffee Prince

Commencement Day

Wakanda Got Y’all

If I Could Do It All Again

#SundaySweat

Song of Stevens

RagTag

@chaneajoyyy (i told you I’d do it!) @allhailnjadaka @afraiddreamingandloving @forbeautyandlife 

I never know how to tag new fresh fics but read and pass it on!

[circle111e-blog]

From Groundhog Day to Raging Bull? films to inspire and uplift

Supposedly inspirational films tend to leave our critic reaching for the sick bag. He finds defeated boxers, desperate weathermen and boozy, cantankerous widowers far more uplifting

Can films be inspirational? Well, the good ones all are. And, in a broader sense, going to the cinema is a narcotic, luxurious experience that makes you feel inspired, uplifted and stimulated. But when people talk about inspirational films underdogs achieving spectacular sporting success, charismatic teachers winning over pupils, people overcoming disabilities I am sometimes a bit agnostic. An inspirational film often feels soupy and syrupy, schematic and cliched, faintly coercive and reactionary. Inspirational means aspirational, no arguments and it brings out my ironic, grumpy Brit. When Im asked for my favourite inspirational scene, I nominate Tom Courtenays final, miserable act of defiance in The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner.

One movie that was lauded as inspirational, The Blind Side, features Sandra Bullock in an Oscar-winning performance as a well-to-do Christian Republican mom in the Sarah Palin mould. She takes in a troubled African American teen and helps mould him into a top football player. This was a huge hit in 2009, with great swathes of America undoubtedly deeming it to be inspirational (perhaps the inspirational movie is itself an American genre). Personally, I felt it unwise to leave the sick bag beyond arms length. The same goes, incidentally, for Clint Eastwoods terrible Invictus, about the South African Springboks earnest battle for the 1995 Rugby World Cup, under the kindly eye of Nelson Mandela.

Keep the sick bag handy The Blind Side. Photograph: Allstar/Warner/Sportsphoto

I like Rocky as much as anyone, but Im quite sure Raging Bull, with its dark, mysterious poetry of defeat and survival, is in a different weight class. And there is something inspiring in the final audacious quotation from the Gospel of St John: All I know is this: once I was blind and now I can see.

Yet sometimes films are genuinely inspirational, specifically because they dont indulge irony or nuance (it could be that inspirational, like comedy or romcom, is a genre that isnt critically acceptable). I have a soft spot for that fierce heartwarmer, The Pursuit of Happyness, directed by the Italian master of dolce, Gabriele Muccino, and starring Will Smith. It is a true story about a guy called Chris Gardner who once faced poverty as a jobless single dad, got an unpaid internship at a prestigious firm, and had to keep up appearances alongside the pampered yuppies competing for a permanent job, while he and his son slept in hostels or even subway toilets.

Yes, its treacly and unashamedly premised on the idea of material success, the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. But its forthright and well made. It doesnt exactly inspire you, but it is touching and successful in its sentimental-euphoric inspirational mode. In this vein, I have to give credit to a sweet and good-natured movie based on a true story: October Sky, with Jake Gyllenhaal as a grim-faced coalminers son who is inspired by Russias Sputnik to go into rocket science when he leaves school.

The King of Inspirational Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society. Photograph: Moviestore/Rex Shutterstock

As for the inspirational-teacher films such as Good Will Hunting and Dead Poets Society, again I am agnostic. They garnered a lot of awards-season euphoria, but I am not sure they have aged well. They certainly show that Robin Williams was the King of Inspirational, in the same way you might call Fred Astaire or Gene Kelly the King of Song and Dance. Something in his hyperactive funniness vulnerable, secretly wounded, dripping with empathy, morally strong made him the incarnation of inspirational: the teacher figure who wasnt distant or fierce, but often a kind of rocket-fuelled version of the class clown who was on the kids side. Williams did this so well that he was never quite convincing in the darker roles he tried at the end of his career.

Laurent Cantets Entre Les Murs (The Class) is a French film about a tough inner-city school. Maybe its too tough to count as inspirational, although its seriousness is inspiring in a way as is the final, enigmatically moving shot of the empty classroom. And a mention should go to Goodbye, Mr Chips, the 1939 version, with Robert Donat as the much-loved public schoolmaster who teaches generations of boys right in the decades leading up to the first world war; despite his own poignantly short and childless marriage, he thinks of all these boys as his children. Goodbye, Mr Chips is an example of how the inspirational movie is a cousin to the weepie.

Where inspirational triangulates with the weepie and the Christmas film James Stewart in Its a Wonderful Life

Its a Wonderful Life deserves a kind of peripheral inclusion here, for being where inspirational triangulates with the weepie and the Christmas film. Part of the agenda of the sentimental Christmas movie is to inspire characters and audience to lead better lives. That is very much the point of Frank Capras celebrated work, in which George Bailey is shown a vision (not dissimilar to those vouchsafed to Scrooge) of what his hometown would have been like if he had not sacrificed his own ambitions to help the community.

Just as inspirational and brilliant is Harold Ramiss Groundhog Day. Bill Murrays misanthropic weatherman is trapped in a repeating day, made to go through it again and again, and inspect his own life in all the detail he had arrogantly ignored, with an infinite amount of time to acquaint himself with every square millimetre of the hokey small town he had presumed to despise. He becomes a better person, but the films own comic miracle is that it doesnt labour this point, despite Murrays hilariously laborious ordeal, or even make it explicit. And I think that is inspirational.

Self-fulfilment We Are The Best!

But for me, the one genre I find really and truly inspirational without having to claim it as a guilty pleasure is any film about people forming bands at school. Movies such as John Carneys Sing Street and Lukas Moodysons We Are the Best! are genuinely inspirational because they are about self-betterment and self-fulfilment, in their way, but no one is telling the pupil musicians they have to do it to get good grades or be a more responsible person.

In fact, the grownup world is usually frowning at the whole idea of being in something as disreputable as a pop group. So there is something entrepreneurial, creative and rebellious about it. Under this heading, I would also include Good Vibrations, an excellent film about Terri Hooley, the record shop owner who nurtured Belfasts punk scene and brought the Undertones to the world.

Isolating a moment of inspiration in a film is an interesting challenge. Alexander Paynes About Schmidt is a relentlessly dark film on the painful theme of family dysfunction. Jack Nicholsons performance is dyspeptic and despairing: his face (like Paul Giamattis in Sideways or Bruce Derns in Nebraska) is on the point of becoming an immobile mask of disappointment or despair. Yet every time I see him burst into tears at his letter from the little African boy, I find the moment euphoric and, yes, sort of inspirational. There is something irresistible in the possibility of Schmidts redemption, even in its broad implausibility. So maybe About Schmidt is my favourite motivational film.

More uplifting culture for 2017

Read more: https://www.theguardian.com/film/2017/jan/01/from-groundhog-day-to-raging-bull-films-to-inspire-and-uplift

The post From Groundhog Day to Raging Bull? films to inspire and uplift appeared first on The Indie Music Hub.

[circle111g-blog]

From Groundhog Day to Raging Bull? films to inspire and uplift

Supposedly inspirational films tend to leave our critic reaching for the sick bag. He finds defeated boxers, desperate weathermen and boozy, cantankerous widowers far more uplifting

Can films be inspirational? Well, the good ones all are. And, in a broader sense, going to the cinema is a narcotic, luxurious experience that makes you feel inspired, uplifted and stimulated. But when people talk about inspirational films underdogs achieving spectacular sporting success, charismatic teachers winning over pupils, people overcoming disabilities I am sometimes a bit agnostic. An inspirational film often feels soupy and syrupy, schematic and cliched, faintly coercive and reactionary. Inspirational means aspirational, no arguments and it brings out my ironic, grumpy Brit. When Im asked for my favourite inspirational scene, I nominate Tom Courtenays final, miserable act of defiance in The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner.

One movie that was lauded as inspirational, The Blind Side, features Sandra Bullock in an Oscar-winning performance as a well-to-do Christian Republican mom in the Sarah Palin mould. She takes in a troubled African American teen and helps mould him into a top football player. This was a huge hit in 2009, with great swathes of America undoubtedly deeming it to be inspirational (perhaps the inspirational movie is itself an American genre). Personally, I felt it unwise to leave the sick bag beyond arms length. The same goes, incidentally, for Clint Eastwoods terrible Invictus, about the South African Springboks earnest battle for the 1995 Rugby World Cup, under the kindly eye of Nelson Mandela.

Keep the sick bag handy The Blind Side. Photograph: Allstar/Warner/Sportsphoto

I like Rocky as much as anyone, but Im quite sure Raging Bull, with its dark, mysterious poetry of defeat and survival, is in a different weight class. And there is something inspiring in the final audacious quotation from the Gospel of St John: All I know is this: once I was blind and now I can see.

Yet sometimes films are genuinely inspirational, specifically because they dont indulge irony or nuance (it could be that inspirational, like comedy or romcom, is a genre that isnt critically acceptable). I have a soft spot for that fierce heartwarmer, The Pursuit of Happyness, directed by the Italian master of dolce, Gabriele Muccino, and starring Will Smith. It is a true story about a guy called Chris Gardner who once faced poverty as a jobless single dad, got an unpaid internship at a prestigious firm, and had to keep up appearances alongside the pampered yuppies competing for a permanent job, while he and his son slept in hostels or even subway toilets.

Yes, its treacly and unashamedly premised on the idea of material success, the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. But its forthright and well made. It doesnt exactly inspire you, but it is touching and successful in its sentimental-euphoric inspirational mode. In this vein, I have to give credit to a sweet and good-natured movie based on a true story: October Sky, with Jake Gyllenhaal as a grim-faced coalminers son who is inspired by Russias Sputnik to go into rocket science when he leaves school.

The King of Inspirational Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society. Photograph: Moviestore/Rex Shutterstock

As for the inspirational-teacher films such as Good Will Hunting and Dead Poets Society, again I am agnostic. They garnered a lot of awards-season euphoria, but I am not sure they have aged well. They certainly show that Robin Williams was the King of Inspirational, in the same way you might call Fred Astaire or Gene Kelly the King of Song and Dance. Something in his hyperactive funniness vulnerable, secretly wounded, dripping with empathy, morally strong made him the incarnation of inspirational: the teacher figure who wasnt distant or fierce, but often a kind of rocket-fuelled version of the class clown who was on the kids side. Williams did this so well that he was never quite convincing in the darker roles he tried at the end of his career.

Laurent Cantets Entre Les Murs (The Class) is a French film about a tough inner-city school. Maybe its too tough to count as inspirational, although its seriousness is inspiring in a way as is the final, enigmatically moving shot of the empty classroom. And a mention should go to Goodbye, Mr Chips, the 1939 version, with Robert Donat as the much-loved public schoolmaster who teaches generations of boys right in the decades leading up to the first world war; despite his own poignantly short and childless marriage, he thinks of all these boys as his children. Goodbye, Mr Chips is an example of how the inspirational movie is a cousin to the weepie.

Where inspirational triangulates with the weepie and the Christmas film James Stewart in Its a Wonderful Life

Its a Wonderful Life deserves a kind of peripheral inclusion here, for being where inspirational triangulates with the weepie and the Christmas film. Part of the agenda of the sentimental Christmas movie is to inspire characters and audience to lead better lives. That is very much the point of Frank Capras celebrated work, in which George Bailey is shown a vision (not dissimilar to those vouchsafed to Scrooge) of what his hometown would have been like if he had not sacrificed his own ambitions to help the community.

Just as inspirational and brilliant is Harold Ramiss Groundhog Day. Bill Murrays misanthropic weatherman is trapped in a repeating day, made to go through it again and again, and inspect his own life in all the detail he had arrogantly ignored, with an infinite amount of time to acquaint himself with every square millimetre of the hokey small town he had presumed to despise. He becomes a better person, but the films own comic miracle is that it doesnt labour this point, despite Murrays hilariously laborious ordeal, or even make it explicit. And I think that is inspirational.

Self-fulfilment We Are The Best!

But for me, the one genre I find really and truly inspirational without having to claim it as a guilty pleasure is any film about people forming bands at school. Movies such as John Carneys Sing Street and Lukas Moodysons We Are the Best! are genuinely inspirational because they are about self-betterment and self-fulfilment, in their way, but no one is telling the pupil musicians they have to do it to get good grades or be a more responsible person.

In fact, the grownup world is usually frowning at the whole idea of being in something as disreputable as a pop group. So there is something entrepreneurial, creative and rebellious about it. Under this heading, I would also include Good Vibrations, an excellent film about Terri Hooley, the record shop owner who nurtured Belfasts punk scene and brought the Undertones to the world.

Isolating a moment of inspiration in a film is an interesting challenge. Alexander Paynes About Schmidt is a relentlessly dark film on the painful theme of family dysfunction. Jack Nicholsons performance is dyspeptic and despairing: his face (like Paul Giamattis in Sideways or Bruce Derns in Nebraska) is on the point of becoming an immobile mask of disappointment or despair. Yet every time I see him burst into tears at his letter from the little African boy, I find the moment euphoric and, yes, sort of inspirational. There is something irresistible in the possibility of Schmidts redemption, even in its broad implausibility. So maybe About Schmidt is my favourite motivational film.

More uplifting culture for 2017

Read more: https://www.theguardian.com/film/2017/jan/01/from-groundhog-day-to-raging-bull-films-to-inspire-and-uplift

The post From Groundhog Day to Raging Bull? films to inspire and uplift appeared first on The Indie Music Hub.