#do you know how many coming out parties would have been influenced by christopher lee saying ‘i am saruman of many colors’

[milliethesillie]

Ok apparently saruman had a rainbow coat in his closet and that never made it into the movie.

Peter jackson i will never forgive you.

[softgothsweetheart]

Colors {Chrysalis}

The rain and wind was harsh and unforgiving as she walked up a path.

What the hell is going on?

Paisley got to where the path ended when she realized she was standing under a lighthouse. But then Lee saw another female and walked slowly to her. There was a giant tornado from what she could see and as she looked around, there wasn’t much else to be seen aside from buildings being completely destroyed. A boat flew from the storm, hitting the lighthouse. Just as Paisley recognized her classmate, she heard the loud groan and they both looked up, the lighthouse was coming down. Paisley shoved her classmate out of harms way just as the lighthouse collapsed on her. As she woke up, she realized she wasn’t in the middle of any storm, she was in class.

Paisley calmed her heartbeat and sighed, deciding that she would have to listen to class. Maybe her uncle giving a lecture would calm her down. Ground her, give her some sense of up and down until she could make sense of the dream.

Was it really a dream if I don’t remember falling asleep?

Paisley watched her uncle Mark lecture the students on Diane Arbus and chiaroscuro, all about photography – something she loved a lot. He’d taught her the beauty of it when she was old enough to hold one and not damage it. Lee knew she was old enough to form her own opinions of people and she – at the young age of 14 – had decided her uncle wasn’t truly who or what he said he was. The night she figured that out, it was too late, her aunt didn’t seem to care either – if she even knew what he did. But Lee was almost positive aunt Prudence knew. Not much too later, the bell rang, and the students were dismissed, only Kate, Max, and queen bee Victoria were left. Kate’s head was down, like she was thinking too hard, like she was overthinking. Lee wanted to believe it wasn’t because of the Vortex club party she’d attended a few weeks back, but she knew that it was. She must’ve remembered bits and pieces; Nathan hadn’t expected her to act out so much whilst under the influence.

Then Paisley stood up and walked over to her uncle who immediately dropped Victoria. She scoffed and glared at the younger girl, “Excuse you Paisley.”

Mark seemed to glare at the tall blonde, a look she didn’t notice. But he intervened before his beloved niece got hurt.

“Excuse you, miss Chase. Paisley is the youngest student here and she is also my niece and assistant.” He turned to her and asked her what she needed.

“Oh—I need to know where to go.”

“Just head out to the diner if need be.” He shrugged; Lee nodded obeying. As she walked away, Max walked almost alongside her but stopped when Mark called her name. Lee continued out of the quiet classroom into the noisy hallway where her fellow classmates were. Kids older than her by at least three years on but were more rambunctious than a room filled with toddlers. She quickly walked the halls, toward the bathroom because the feeling of eyes watching her had suddenly become too much to bear. Paisley had recently begun to experience something abnormal.

It’d happened one day when she was cleaning a camera and elbowed it off the table. The loud crash was heard in the back rooms of the house and her uncle had come rushing out, yelling. When he was coming at her, she held her hands out as if it were going to stop him and everything went backwards until her vision faded and burned at the edges. When Paisley looked behind her, the camera was fully intact and back on the desk. She thought it’d been a trip, but she even threw a rock into the house through a window before rewinding time until before it happened, even throwing her aunt’s phone at her head. The feeling and power had grown stronger, she knew that much.

Paisley’s feet took her into the girls’ bathroom, she holed herself in the last stall, listening to music on her phone as she sat on the toilet. It was a soft song—one of the many Rachel Amber had told her she’d like and gave to her on a playlist. It was sad that she’d no longer see her friend except through the miserable posters she saw around campus. The song was so soft that over the music she heard the door open once more and whispers. For a few minutes, Lee breathed silently and had her music low to listen when the door had opened with a loud smack, some more talking and another thwack. Shadows moved outside, she hadn’t a clue if they knew she was here in hiding. So, she killed the music and removed her headphones.

When Paisley looked down in the stall and to her left, she could see her fellow classmate’s shoes—Max’s to be exact. They weren’t hard to recognize. There was an exchange happening between Nathan and some random girl.

“You’re wrong—that’s my family—not me.”

“Oh, boo hoo, poor little rich kid. I know you’ve been pumpin’ drugs and shit to kids around here… I bet your respectable family would help me out if I went to them. Man, I can see the headlines now.” If this girl knew about the parties and drugs—if Nathan told, then she would die. Especially if she knew who the real culprit behind this was.

“Leave them out of this, bitch.” Nate growled, he wasn’t in the best of moods and she was testing his patience. It was going to get bad no doubt.

Maybe he can reel himself in… C’mon Nate, do what I taught you.

“I can tell everybody Nathan Prescott is a punk ass who begs like a little girl and talks to himself—" Seems the unknown female cut her sentence short, gasping, her shoes scraping against the tiling as she fell back to the wall.

“You don’t know who the fuck I am or who you’re messing around with!” He shouted.

“Where’d you get that? What are you doing? Come on, put that thing down!” She seemed to be begging, Paisley peeked through the cracks and couldn’t see a damn thing except for Nathan’s movements. He growled in rage and she had a frightening thought—

Maybe it’s the gun uncle Mark bought for him! Oh god, no.

“Don’t EVER tell me what to do. I’m so sick of people trying to control me!”

“You’re gonna get in hella more trouble for this than drugs.”

“Nobody would ever even miss your ‘punk ass’ would they?!”  

Is he going to shoot this girl? What would he do with the body? The gun?

“Get that gun away from me psycho!” A loud bang rang out, Max yelled, and Paisley saw her arm stretched out through the cracks before everything rewound. Lee was sat back in class, diagonal to Max who seemed to be alert. More than one time traveler sounded crazier than one did. Class went on, everything the exact same as before, except for Max elbowing her polaroid camera off the table and rewinding it until it was no longer broken. After Max played with her rewind, using Victoria’s answer against her and Mark’s quote against him when he asked her where her photo was, they both left the classroom. Lee pulled her aside where no one could overhear them.

“Stop rewinding, Max, seriously.”

“How did you—” The older female seemed panicked that she knew.

“I can time travel too. Stop using it on nonsense. It won’t work when you truly need it if you don’t.” Paisley didn’t expect Max to listen, but it would have been nice to. They re-entered the bathroom and followed what they had done previously and waited until Nathan had pulled his gun again. Max moved the trolley, picked up the mallet, rewound so the trolley was back and smacked the emergency alarm in the corner. Loud blaring sounds that came were deafening, Nathan had fallen to the floor with a slam as the blue haired female shouted and made her escape. Nathan followed suit and Lee opened the stall and saw Max giving her a look that showed her relief.

They exited the bathroom together, but the security guard promptly stopped them, scolding and interrogating as if they were children and had done something wrong.

“Hey, Madsen, don’t be such a dick. I have familial issues and Max was helping and consoling me.” Paisley glared, and Max tried her best but looked like a small child.

“Miss Christopher—shut your mouth—” Lee scoffed, fake tears springing to her eyes as her hand covered her mouth. Principal Wells intervened and the were glad, but when exiting the building he stopped them.

“You both look stressed out. Are you both okay?”

“Mr. Madsen has serious issues, he just told me to shut up. He interrogated us. Today is such a hard day—it was my mother’s birthday.” Max seemed to be impressed by Paisley’s lying abilities.

“Is that all you’re thinking of? Or have you done something wrong?”

“Are you accusing me of lying, principal Wells?” She questioned, her tears drying up and shooting him an accusing glare.

“I’m sure my uncle informed you that it is in fact my mother’s birthday. I get very sad during this time of year. Max found me in the bathroom and consoled me. So, yes, principal Wells, I am rather stressed.” He must’ve bought it because he nodded and gestured to his office.

“My door is always open to give advice.”

“Thank you so much. It really means a lot.” Paisley nodded, giving a watery relieved smile before pulling Max to the main campus through the doors. The alarm was off but the ringing from it was annoying as all hell. Once they descended the stairs, Max yanked herself loose and it spun Lee around to face her.

“You didn’t tell him about Nathan—”

“Max, you don’t understand what happens if we go down that road. Wells won’t give a shit; he won’t look into it. Then he’ll tell Nathan’s dad who’ll threaten him and tell Nathan. It’ll come back to us.”

“But—shit—you lied so well that Wells bought it!”

“He’s a fucking drunkard, of course he did. Plus, I have tons of experience under my belt that I might as well be an expert.”

“Thanks, I guess… You’re Paisley Christopher, right?”

“Yeah I’m Mark Jefferson’s niece.”

“I didn’t know that, you look super young. How old are you?”

“Fourteen, he made sure I got into the academy.”

“Doesn’t seem like you’re fourteen, you seem older.” A ping from Max’s phone sounded and she instantly checked it, texting.

“It’s Warren, I have to go. I’ll see you later?” Max asked, Paisley nodded and while her classmate went around campus to socialize, she went directly to the dorms where Victoria was sat with her minions. All three annoying plastics. When Paisley tried to pass, Victoria scoffed, sitting up.

“Whoa freak, you don’t even stay in the dorms.” She mocked, pointing out. Paisley rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“I mean, don’t move if you wanna crush your chances at the Everyday Heroes contest. I would, especially since I have ways of convincing my uncle.” Lee examined her nails, letting her green eyes flicker to Victoria’s.

“You’re like fucking twelve!” She shouted in displeasure.

“Nice guess, Tori, but I’m fourteen and I don’t screw around. If you want your fair chance to win the contest I’d move.” Victoria rolled her eyes, standing up even as Courtney and Taylor scoffed. They’d told their queen bee not to move a muscle and she had. It made Paisley feel powerful as she went up the steps and into the boys’ dorms.

Paisley entered the dorms, walking down the corridor before turning left and knocking on the first door there;111.

“What?” She heard Nathan’s upset grumbling from behind the door. Lee opened the door and walked in to where Nate was laying on his bed.

“What the fuck do you want?” Paisley closed the door behind her and sat on his couch and tried to get comfortable.

“You, the bathroom. Wanna tell me what the hell you were thinking?”

“The bathroom?” He asked, waving his hand dismissively.

“Your goddamn gun, Nate!” She whispers shouts and he was up and on his feet in an instant, his hand wrapped around her neck loosely. Nathan’s hand squeezed lightly, trying to remind her who was in charge.

“Don’t fucking yell at me, you’re like ten years old.”

“I’m fourteen, Nathan. Don’t play the age card.” She removed his hand and shoved it into his chest.

“He’ll kill us if he finds out.” She reminded him and he groaned.

“You actually want to live with what we’ve done?”

“Can you please take this seriously?” Nathan let out a laugh, devoid of any humor. It answered her question. He collapsed back on his bed and relaxed.

“Where were you in the bathroom?”

“I was hiding in the last stall.” He locked eyes with her and squinted, making sure she wasn’t lying.

“I guess you left the fucking Polaroid then. You gonna join Max on her twee hipster expeditions?”

“That one wasn’t mine, Nate.”

“Then who does it—” He stopped himself short and sat up.

“Max Caulfield. Fan-fucking-tastic! Are you sure she was there?”

“She saw the gun, she almost told Wells too, I had to step in and lie.”

“You only stepped in to cover her ass.”

“Not even, I stepped in because what if Wells begins investigating? You know Mark wouldn’t be happy about it. I convinced her that it was best if she didn’t clash heads with you.”

“Damn right.” Nathan was off his bed and out the door and had Paisley trailing after him, he was in the main campus and in the parking lot in no time at all. Paisley was trying to stop him, pulling on his arm but he yanked out of her grip.

“Max Caulfield, right? You’re one of Jefferson’s photo groupies…” He asked as he approached her.

“I’m one of his students.” Max corrected; Paisley cursed her. Why couldn’t s have just gone along with it?

“Whatthefuckever. I know you like to take pictures, especially when you’re hiding out in bathrooms. You best tell me what you saw. Now!” Nathan demanded, yelling. Paisley braced herself for the worst, she knew it was coming. She shook her head at Warren when he looked to her, Nathan towered over Max. She shouldn’t have told him.

“What are you talking about?”

“I know you’re new here but don’t play dumb with me.”

“I’m not new. I’ve lived here for years.”

“Then you should know the Prescott’s own this shithole.”

“Nate—"

“Then you shouldn’t worry about me… worry about yourself.” He grew angrier, his hands clenching tighter into fists. Max seemed to have a penchant for pissing him off, then again, didn’t everybody?

Nathan was so far gone, lost in his anger and beyond reasoning. If a hand was laid on him, a fight could break out. He was a ticking time bomb.

“Do not analyze me! I pay people for that. Worry about yourself, Max Caulfield.”

“Take a step back, Nathan Prescott.” Max's words have him stepping closer, into her face.

“Oh, man, you’re telling me what to do?” Warren gets in between and as a result, gets headbutted. He falls to the ground, clutching his head. Max shoves Nathan and he turns back to her, his hand gripping her around the neck.

“Nathan!” Paisley shouted, eyeing Warren on the ground.

“Nobody tells me what to do,” he shakes Max, “Not my parents, not the principal, or that whore in the bathroom!” She manages to scrape his cheek and he shoves her to the ground. Lee grabs Nate by his shoulder and he backhands her, and she stumbles as a rusted beige truck drives up. It almost hits Max who immediately stands up and gazes at the driver.

“Chloe?”

“Max?” They hear the driver exclaim.

“No way, you again?” Nathan questions in a growl. Warren stands up and tackles Nathan to the ground.

“Go, go! I got this!” He yells and Max gets in. Paisley looks around and all she can feel is her heart beating in her chest. Nathan pauses hitting Warren and stands up, kicking the car door closed.

“Get your punk asses out of there now! Don’t even try to run! Nobody messes with me! NOBODY!” He shouts as the female from the bathroom pulls away. Paisley watches as the truck gets farther and farther away. Madsen comes over and the teenagers turn towards him.

“You three, Principal Wells’ office. Now.”

“Fuck off old man.” Nathan gives the security guard the finger. Warren stands to his feet and Paisley feels her cheek and looks around between the guys.

“Miss Christopher—move it—”

“Dude I said fuck off! Do you not understand English?” Nate shouted, lighting a cigarette. Madsen grabbed Lee by her bicep, and she tried pulling away, protesting.

“Leave her alone—” Warren said.

“Stay out of this Gayram.” Nathan sneered. Madsen forced them to the Principal’s office, Warren with an ice pack, Nathan with a bandage where the scratches were, and Paisley who had makeup on hand to cover the forming bruise.

“Would either of you three care to explain?” Wells asked, each of them looked at each other. The boys not bothering to mask their disdain for each other.

“Nathan started this.” The younger boy spoke up. The older boy raised his eyebrows and leaned forward, giving him the finger, which Wells didn’t even bother to comment on. Warren gave a mocking face and Nathan almost smacked him from behind Paisley when Wells scolded him. Warren and Paisley argued until it became too loud and they all silenced at Wells’ yelling. Nathan made half assed comments and left the office, not bothering to close the door behind him.

“We done here? Cause I’m leaving too.” Warren stormed out in a slightly less aggressive fashion and Paisley secured her bag as she stood up.

“Want to explain miss Christopher? It seems like the most trouble you’ve caused, and the week is only beginning.” He asked, leaning over his desk. Paisley shrugged.

“I’m just unlucky. Bad timing is all.” She chalked it up, leaving the room as she heard him sigh behind her. She exited the school and what ever students were left from earlier whispered and eyed her. First time she’d taken it in stride, she’d made it to the campus exit when she received two messages at the same time from two very different people.

UNKNOWN > You just wait until I see you later.

Warren > How could you defend such an asshole? He hit you!

Not a good end to any day, this meant bad news. When she met her uncle in the parking lot, he didn’t look pleased in the least. Paisley got in the car, no protesting and he climbed in the driver’s side. The whole ride home, he expressed his disappointment calmly. Most likely he’d get angrier at home where she could receive her punishment.

They arrived but when she slowly went to hide but failed, he caught her by her lengthy brown hair, yanking her downwards until her knees hit the laminate.

“I wasn’t going to discipline you but then I saw the look in your eye. You were going to hide; I just know it.”

“Please—uncle Mark, I wasn’t! I promise!” She cried, her knees rubbing harshly even with her dress to protect them a little. Her hands covered his, attempting to undo them.

“Go to your room, I don’t want to see you until tomorrow.” He let go of her hair and Paisley managed to stand up on her wobbly knees.

“My punishment?” She asked, stumbling back.

“You take the photos Friday. I choose the subject and you don’t get dinner tonight.”

“What subject?” She asked fearfully, maybe it was Stella? Or Alyssa, or even Taylor and Courtney. It was impossible to figure out who his intended target was.

“Victoria, of course. You’re drugging her at the Vortex Club party. After I announced the winner of the contest.” Paisley nodded, leaving his presence and staying in her room. He’d left a bit ago by the time the sun was setting, it was getting late and she was getting hungry, but she wouldn’t dare try to eat. Paisley lost track of how much time she’d been sitting in the window. When she saw the snow, she didn’t believe it to be real. The house was silent meaning her aunt Prudence was gone and had taken Amelia to work.

She simply went outside and watched it snow. Lee sat on the steps of the backyard and felt sharp pains in her head, passing out. There was thunder, harsh winds. Paisley forced herself to walk up the steep terrain. She managed to barely avoid collapsing trees and rolling boulders. They obstacles she probably couldn’t have managed without her rewind abilities. As she ran up, Paisley realized it was a lighthouse. The lighthouse, she looked over the edge and saw nothing but Arcadia Bay in ruins.

When she made it to the top, she saw Max who was holding a newspaper.

“October 11th? Is this Friday? That’s only four days away!” Max exclaimed, letting the paper fly upwards into the storm. Paisley reached out, her hand touching Max’s shoulder as she zapped back to the stairs. Lee stood and stumbled into the house, locking the back door and locking herself inside her bedroom.

Maybe it’s time to be a hero.

[randomrichards]

OSCAR 2019 PREDICTIONS: BEST PICTURE

·         BLACK PANTHER

We begin with the first Superhero movie to be nominated in this category.

After the death of his father, T’Challa (Chadwick Boseman) takes his place as King of Wakanda, a fictional African Country that keeps its futuristic technology under wraps from the outside world. It means wearing the mask of Black Panther, a superhero with extra strength and agility. But he finds his throne threatened when Erik Killmonger (Michael B. Jordan) arrives to avenge his father (Sterling K. Brown) and make them answer for their isolationist policies. Now T’Challa will have to confront the sins of his father and question his preconceived worldviews to maintain his place as king.

When it comes to appeal, I notice similarities between this movie and the original Star Trek. Like Star Trek, this film offers an optimistic view of humanity where people are reaching their full potential, making gadgets for the benefit of others. Of course, what sells them is how unique and detailed their worlds are. Wakanda is a paradise where people hold on to their culture and traditions while creating the most advanced technology. They both offer a variety of memorable characters, with Black Panther’s world including T’Challa’s snarky young tech whiz sister Shuri (Letita Wright), his stern head guard Okoye (Danai Gurira) and larger-than-life villain Ulysses Klaue (Andy Serkis).

But like Star Trek, many people are turned off by Black Panther’s delivery. Many couldn’t get into the slow pacing of both franchises, finding them boring.[1] Many also found T’Challa to be too passive a protagonist; lacking a central motivation to drive the story, even those who found him engaging in Captain America: Civil War. There are some who would argue Killmonger was more of a protagonist since he has a clear goal and sets everything in motion. Both Star Trek and Black Panther have been criticized for their lackluster fight scenes and special effects. The fight scenes in Black Panther are certainly a huge set back. The camera is almost always too close and the film edits way too quickly. It looks way different from how director Ryan Coogler shot the boxing scenes in Creed. For that, you have Marvel Studios to blame for their overbearing control over their films and fear of risks. It’s kind of prevents this film from reaching its full potential.

What really annoyed me was the obvious death fake out. It’s a cliché that everyone can figure out and it needs to die.

It’s all in whether you can take the good or the bad.

·         BLACKKKLANSMAN

Based on the true story of the first black cop of Colorado Springs.

After finding an ad in the paper, Ron Stallworth (John David Washington) calls them under the disguise of a disgruntled racist. To pull this off, he has fellow cop Flip Zimmerman (Adam Driver) pass himself off as him to get into the Klan. When the clan plots a bombing, Ron and Flip must race against time to stop them.

From the opening scene of Kennebrew Beauregard flubbing his way through a racist rant, Spike Lee takes a comedic approach to the Klan. When the cops struggle to hold their laughter when Ron calls Klan leader David Duke (Topher Grace), you can’t help but take giddy pleasure in it. Plus, seeing Duke try to act tough in front of Stallworth (not realizing he’s the one whose been calling him) looks silly. But as the film progresses, Lee reminds us that these people are very dangerous people. No one embodies this more than Felix (Jasper Paakkonen), a paranoid, hostile lunatic. Plus, not every Klan member fits the inbred redneck stereotype associated with the Klan, remind us that they could be anyone, even members of the Defense Force. Plus, they have been making a recent comeback as indicated in the final scenes.

Through Ron, Spike Lee takes on the perspective of a black man reforming the system from the inside. Throughout the film, Ron encounters people who challenges him. Student activist Patrice (Laura Harrier) sees the police force as an unfixable racist system. He’s expected to put up with the very racist cop Landers (Frederick Weller). When Ron claims “America will never elect a racist like David Duke” a white cop counters with “Coming from a black man’ that’s incredibly naïve. Wake up.”[2]

I want to conclude with a powerful scene. At a student rally, speaker Jerome Turner (civil rights activist and singer Harry Belafonte) discusses how black men were brutally murdered in lynching after the premiere of Birth of a Nation a 1914 silent film that glorified the KKK while portraying black people in the most vicious stereotypes. Cut to the Klan watching the film with sadistic glee. You could imagine them celebrating a lynching like the fourth of July.

·         BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY

This biopic looks at the life of Freddy Mercury, lead singer of Queen and one of the most charismatic front-men in Rock History.

I’m just going to say it; I hate this movie. A lot. It feels more like a smear campaign than a tribute. It seems to do everything it can to sully the reputation of Mercury, who’s not alive to tell his side of the story. It also embodies everything wrong with biopics.

First, the film tries so hard to fit every event of Queen’s career, but never gives any of the scenes time to develop them. They seemed more focused on fitting Queen songs than telling a good story. If that wasn’t enough, they also try to fit in every cliché found in music biopics. Disapproving parents? Check. Naysayer record executive? Check. Descent into drug addiction? Check. Singer cleaning himself up while learning humility in time to get the band back together for their most memorable concert? Check, Check and Check! This just comes off as lazy.

But what makes this so egregious is the level in which they twist the facts to fit into these clichés. While I get that screenwriters must tweak a person’s life to form a coherent story, but this one is just abusive. Nowhere is this truer than when the band get indignant about Freddy Mercury creating a solo album, accusing him of “killing Queen.” Considering that two of the members already made solo albums before Freddy did, you can’t help but get angry at the hypocrisy. Then they claim this broke up the band, when in real life they only took a break because they were burnt out. But none is worst then when they used Freddy Mercury’s AIDS diagnosis as a motivational tool to bring the band back together[3] in time for Live Aid. What makes this sick is that Freddy wasn’t diagnosed until two years after this concert. How the writers think all this lying is ok baffles my mind.

And then you remember this film got approval from two of Queen’s band members. No wonder, they’re practically portrayed as saints who arrive to work on time, leave parties early to be with their families and never do anything wrong. Meanwhile, Freddy’s character is dragged in the mud, portrayed as an unprofessional, narcissistic junkie. I don’t know what axe the band members they had to grind, but they must be petty to think this is how you treat your friend. Contrast that with Straight Outta Compton, which treated Easy-E with great respect, even with his misguided loyalty to his manager.

I pity the wasted talent of Malek, who gave a much better performance than this film deserved. This film leaves a bad taste in my mouth

·         THE FAVOURITE

Welcome to 18th Century England, where the kingdom is led by Queen Anne (Olivia Colman), a fussy brat trapped in a frail woman’s body. And she’s being led by Lady Sarah (Rachel Weisz), a proper lady who assists her with political decisions...and sexual pleasures. But then comes Abigail, a former lady forced into servitude after her father loses everything. But after healing the Queen’s infected leg, Abigail rises in the ranks, charming the Queen along the way. Thus, begins a battle of will for the favour of the queen. This battle catches the eye nobleman Harley, who seeks Abigail’s help so he can stop the war with France.

Alongside Christopher Nolan, Yorgos Lanthimos is the closest we are going to get to Kubrick. While Nolan’s influences lean toward 2001: A Space Odyssey, Lanthimos clearly draws from Barry Lyndon for this film. Like Kubrick, he presents a cold, distant presences in his films, from the cinematography to the low-key acting. It works for this film with every character maintaining a prim and proper demeanor while hiding their nefarious purposes.

Like Kubrick, Lanthimos has a dark sense of humour that exposes the absurdity of appearances. Throughout the film, we see noblemen and women misbehaving behind clothes door. But the biggest laugh come from the Queen herself. Colman must have been having a blast in this role as she throws one temper tantrums.

Like Kubrick, this director isn’t for everyone.

·         GREEN BOOK

Inspired by a true story.

When the nightclub he works in closes for renovations, Bouncer Tony Lip (Viggo Mortensen) has three ways to earn a living; win multiple eating contests, work for the mob or drive pianist Dr. Don Shirley (Mahershala Ali) across the Deep South for a music tour. He goes for the third choice. At first the two can’t get along, with Don not matching Tony’s preconceptions of black people and Don wishing Tony would try to act classier. But as Tony sees the shit Don must put up with, they come to form a friendship.

It still surprises me that this film was directed by the co-creator of Dumb and Dumber and There’s Something About Mary. But when you think about it, Peter Farrelly is the perfect director for this movie. Some of his films are road movies. If you look past the gross out jokes of his previous films, the biggest laughs come from the interactions between actors. Mortensen and Ali bounce off each other, creating believable interactions both funny and emotional.

It’s worth noting that after Mary, Peter and his brother Bobby tried to use their comedy style to create a more sensitive portrayals of marginalized groups, whether it’s the overweight (Shallow Hal) or conjoined twins (Stuck on You). The problem was they still making fat/disability jokes in between these sentimental moments; trying to have their cake and eat it too. It seems Peter has learned his lesson and turned his target on the type of people who would make fun of those who would make fun of these people. The film goes after Tony’s casual racism as he makes preconceived notions of Don, who serves as the straight man who corrects Tony. The film also takes some jabs at the so-called southern gentleman, exposing their phoniness when one host tries to pronounce Tony’s real name.

But if you take out the two actors, the film isn’t really anything special. It’s essentially Driving Ms. Daisy with the races reversed. You’ll enjoy the interactions, but it’s not as interesting as the other nominees.

·         ROMA

Alfonso Cuaron draws from his persona life to pay tribute to the maid who cared for his family.

Set in 1970s Mexico City, indigenous housekeeper Cleo (Yalitza Aparicio) cleans the house for Dr. Antonio (Fernando Grediaga), his wife Sofia (Marina de Tavira) and their four children Tono, Paco, Pepe, Sofi. She has practically become a member of the family. Their bond is tested when Cleo becomes pregnant and ends up abandoned by her martial arts loving boyfriend Fermin (Jorge Antonio Guerrero).

Slice of life stories must be one of the hardest type of stories to write. There’s no central goals or major conflict running that move the plot forward. There are little conflicts, but it’s just people going on their daily lives. Not only does a filmmaker face the challenge of making it look realistic, but to keep the audience engaged for two hours. Against these odds, Cuaron creates a beautiful portrait of family.

What helps is the actor’s performances. For her first role, Aparicio engages you with her sensitivity even when she’s just hanging clothes. The other actors match her every step of the way, feeling like a real family on screen.

But what truly sells the film is the beautiful black and white cinematography. Never has ordinary life looked so beautiful.

With these and Cuaron’s directing, the mundane becomes unforgettable. You remember the scene of Antonio trying to maneuver his car into the very tight garage. You remember Cleo and her friend running across Mexico City. You remember Cleo and Sofie’s mother picking out a crib. Little moments like these stay with you after you’ve finished watching it.

·         A STAR IS BORN

Jackson Maine (Bradley Cooper) is a country superstar struggling with alcoholism and the effects of tinnitus. Ally (Lady Gaga) is a wannabee songwriter rejected by many record labels for her appearance. One night, Jackson was looking for a place to drink when he stumbles upon Ally singing at a drag bar. After spending a night together, Jackson finds his passion for music rekindled as he helps her musical potential. So as her star rises, Ally finds herself unable to stop Jackson’s downward spiral until it gets to the point where it hurts her career.

Cooper shows a lot of potential in his directorial debut. This being the third remake of the classic 1937 film, he makes the old story feel refreshing and new. First, he uses Ally’s rise to fame to examine the shallow world of modern pop. Ally struggles to maintain her sense of self as a record producer (Rafi Gavron) tries to make her in the image of a pop star.[4] All the time, Jackson keeps reminding her to always have something to say.

Then he makes Jackson a complicated character. A former act, you could imagine Cooper exercising his demons through his character. Never once does he back away from the ugliness of Jacksons addiction, leading to a cringe inducing scene where he humiliates himself at the Oscars. But you come to understand this stems from a troubled relationship with his late father. Plus, he always pushes Ally to do better.

Cooper gets a lot of great performances out of this. He and Gaga have excellent chemistry, making the love between Jackson and Ally feel genuine. A lot of comedians give excellent dramatic performances including Dave Chappelle as Jackson’s friend Noodles and Andrew Dice Clay getting his second wind as Ally’s unfiltered yet supportive father. But the key standout is Sam Elliott as Jackson’s older brother/manager Bobby. In a powerful scene, Bobby berates his brother for idolizing their deadbeat father while never showing him any appreciation for his help.

On second viewing, I noticed the visual style. The colour red shines in moments of passion, starting with Jackson and Ally’s first date. The one little moment where Cooper’s storytelling skills shine is when Jackson makes a ring for her. When he puts it on her finger, all the sound fades out, with only a piano tune heard.

If he can keep this up, he is sure to become an extraordinary director.

·         VICE

Adam McKay seems determined to reinvent the biopic. With the rise of Vice President Dick Cheney (Christian Bale), he decided to experiment with storytelling. First, he has the story told by some middle-class family man (Jesse Plemons), not revealing his identity until late in the film. He uses the narrator to explain how certain aspects of politics work and the consequences Cheney’s politics have on America. Throughout the film, he undercuts the film with skits here and there. There some funny moments like one scene where the film demonstrates Cheney’s power of persuasion with him suggesting to fellow politicians to tie bows to their dicks and flap them around the white house. Other times, they fall flat, especially the post credit sequence. It feels like he was throwing everything at the wall and not even wait to see what sticks.

It doesn’t help that he’s still trying to make a straight forward biopic. Another example of trying to have your cake and eat it too. It results in an uneven, unfocused tone.

What I find interesting about the film is how we watch Cheney progress. At first, he is an alcoholic electrician who blew his chances at Yale. At first, you’re sympathetic to him as his wife forces him to clean himself up. As he goes into politics, he becomes intriguing as he finds himself comfortable as second in command to Donald Rumsfeld (Steve Carell). But when you see his policies and their consequences, your sympathy wanes. Then he grows more and more repulsive, even throwing his daughter Mary (Alison Pill) under the bus so his other daughter Liz (Lily Rabe) can win a Congressional position. You can’t help but feel anger at his actions, especially with the lack of remorse he has for his actions.

Who Will Win?

It’s a one on one between Green Book and Roma. The safe bet seems to be Green Book, but many want Roma to win.

[1] Personally, I thought the lack of motivation in the first hour was necessary for us to understand the traditions T’Challa and his family holds so dear.

[2] While this is a clear shot at Trump, this may as well be referencing Nixon, who stated he started the Drug War because “I couldn’t arrest people for being black.”

[3] Also, does anyone notice the band members never age even though this takes place over a decade?

[4] It’s kind of ironic for Ally to be resistant to flashy gimmicks when Lady Gaga is well known for her over the top costume designs.

[republicstandard]

Northern Ireland Is Ripe For Invasion: Police, Media, Politicians Bow To Islam

Considering the bloody history of Northern Ireland when it comes to sectarian violence, one might understand the reticence there to recognize the threat of Islam. On the other hand, given the bloody history of Catholic versus Protestant, one might expect a greater understanding of what turf wars between religious rivals can look like.

It appears that we must again recognize the power of the Cathedral; what the neoractionaries call the sometimes-self-aware social construct of media, education, and government. The narrative that runs through all aspects of this profane artifice is one of tolerance above all else- shattering the wisdom of Karl Popper and setting the stage for destruction.

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Unlimited tolerance must lead to the disappearance of tolerance. If we extend unlimited tolerance even to those who are intolerant, if we are not prepared to defend a tolerant society against the onslaught of the intolerant, then the tolerant will be destroyed, and tolerance with them. ~ Karl Popper

There is a small pan-Christian identitarian group in Northern Ireland which has adopted the moniker Generation Sparta. One might have imagined a slightly more Celtic influenced name, but in any case, the group is counter-jihad in orientation and have taken it upon themselves to alert their countrymen to the threat posed by Islam to the West. What I am about to describe mirrors almost perfectly both my own experience as a young man growing up in an almost entirely White town in Yorkshire and also that of the YouTuber Millenial Woes in his own White Scottish village.

People in virtual ethnostate conditions have no idea how good they have it. They may look at a pamphlet that bears uncomfortable news and uncritically reject it. We are all, I am sure, guilty of this at some point. We have only people like ourselves to contend with, which becomes boring. Mundane. We might fantasise about the exotic East, or the cosmopolitan cities; far away from the backwards looking troglodytes we are spawned from and fear to become. Islam itself becomes exciting, culturally enriching, and a colorful counter to the dour gloom of the slate-gray Ulster skies.

I will wager good money that I know of someone who feels today as we once felt. So begins the story of Northern Ireland resident 'Meg'.

This insane and terrifying pamphlet was posted through my door yesterday wtf pic.twitter.com/vHWJadJej5

— Meg Brad (@MegMog95) April 3, 2018

Yes indeed, this looks like a scary leaflet to receive if one does not have the prerequisite education -or rather, if one has the requisite indoctrination- to understand the reality of it. It is easy to dismiss as insane and terrifying that which we do not understand. To assist Meg in understanding this matter, let us look at the claims made by Generation Sparta.

CLAIM: Will Britons be a minority in the United Kingdom in 2066?

Yes; at least according to Professor of Demography at Oxford, Peter Coleman and the Migration Observatory.

“On current trends, European populations will become more ethnically diverse, with the possibility that today’s majority ethnic groups will no longer comprise a numerical majority.”

This study does refer specifically to the White British, which as we have written about before are a distinct ethnic group; with a distinct culture and set of values. Generation Sparta are correct in saying that British people were not balloted on immigration- frequently they voted for parties that promised to curb immigration and were ignored. Though I have asked many times myself for a reason why Britain will not become a country where the indigenous population is a minority, I have never received a reasoned answer. Without fail, the question is dismissed as implausible. Without fail, this question is treated as evidence of racism.

The police came round, impressively speedy response from @PoliceServiceNI. They took the pamphlet with them and are gonna investigate

— Meg Brad (@MegMog95) April 4, 2018

Until sufficient evidence is produced that disproves the projections of demographic replacement, we must -if we claim to be living in a somewhat evidence-based shared reality- recognize that replacement migration is real. Generation Sparta are entirely correct to make the claim in their leaflet. We know that the UN itself desires this process.

CLAIM: Nothing is done following terrorist attacks in England.

Can any deny that this is true? The bombing of a pop-concert in Manchester is quickly replaced in the narrative by the tragedy of Grenfell; dealing with terrorism is hard. Blaming Britain for poor constructions that incinerate illegal immigrants is easy. We have seen no steps taken in the United Kingdom to even contend with the difficult questions around Islam as a philosophy. We cannot discuss it, not even in the House of Lords.

We must agree again that Generation Sparta are correct- in so far as nothing positive is done- we see our civil liberties eroded a little more after every Peace-Stabbing or Peace-Bomb.

With emotive language, Generation Sparta lay the blame for this dire future at the feet of their own politicians. Note that well- there is no mention of violence, or hate towards Muslims- or anyone else. The political elites are whom Generation Sparta blame for the enrichment of Ireland; and if the responses to Meg's original tweet are to go by from Alliance Party members, we must again agree with the pamphlet.

I'd definitely pass that to the police. Goes way beyond opinion to incitement. The fact that it's deranged notwithstanding 🙄

— Naomi Long MLA (@naomi_long) April 3, 2018

I know! And there are a significant amount of Muslim people in this area, I'd hate for them to feel unwelcome because of a few hateful people

— Meg Brad (@MegMog95) April 4, 2018

Alliance's policies also indicate a fatal misunderstanding of human population dynamics; buying in entirely to Lockean blank slate ideas, that all humans are fundamentally interchangeable.

Is the cry of RACIST! unfamiliar? As the Journal reports:

South Belfast DUP MP Emma Little Pengelly and MLA Christopher Stalford have condemned the distribution of the leaflets.

“These leaflets, distributed by an unknown and anonymous group, do not speak for the people who live in that area or the vast majority of people across Northern Ireland,” they said.

“We have seen attempts before to incite racism within Northern Ireland and thankfully they have failed on every occasion.

It is absolutely wrong and dangerous to try and stir up racist sentiment by conflating an entire religion with the vile, violent acts of terrorists, who are just masquerading under the cover of religion."

Once again we are treated to the gloriously myopic bleatings from cuckold politicians who claim to know the minds of religious fundamentalists better than the religious fundamentalists themselves. This, from a hardcore Protestant Unionist party who have campaigned in the past to "save Ulster from sodomy" and advocated for creationism in schools. Let us not pretend that this party is one of tolerance and such fancies- but even the DUP cannot bring itself to say; No- we do not want an Islamic Northern Ireland. Strange then, that over a year ago the atheist community in Northern Ireland submitted a letter to the Home Secretary "raising serious concerns about the UK Government’s ‘independent review’ into Sharia courts in Britain."

Strange that in Northern Ireland the godless will go where the God-fearing fear to tread.

CLAIM: The media tar opponents of multiculturalism as racist

Of course! It's racist to point it out. As predicted in their own pamphlet, Generation Sparta are accurate again. Now, one might say- well, of course, the press will say this pamphlet is racist because it is racist! The counter is simple- there is nothing racist in the pamphlet unless we are to believe that Islam is a race- and therefore immune from critique. This is a fundamental point of contention. If you cannot criticize ideas because it is racist to criticize those ideas, you are living under tyranny. You are living under laws that persecute blasphemy.

I will say that it is wrong to use the image of Fusilier Lee Rigby in this manner. There is no need to politicize his death further- he shall not be forgotten, but sympathy must be shown to his family; who have repeatedly requested that his image is not used by activists. That should be respected- and Generation Sparta should know better. This being said, the words accompanying his image are also accurate- these are the sites of terrorist attacks in England. Far more than 1500 English girls have been raped by predominantly Pakistani men. These facts are not in dispute, surely.

You have seen the pamphlet and read the criticism in the press, but I want to show you the depths to which our media outlets will sink in search of a bias-confirming story. Here are the tweets from the press, begging for a comment from the girl who received the pamphlet.

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Hi Meg, I'm from the @IrishTimes - would it be ok for us to use your pics of the leaflet as part of our coverage?

— David Cochrane (@davidcochrane) April 5, 2018

Can you follow for a DM?

— Arthur Strain (@Fronkenstrain) April 4, 2018

Meg, I'm a reporter with https://t.co/aSXrpCFHE9. Would you mind if we were to share this image with full cred to you?

— Kate Demolder (@katedemolder) April 5, 2018

Hi Meg, my name is Michael and I work for the @BelTel - would it be OK to use these images of the leaflet?

— MichaelSheilsMcnamee (@MichaelOnassis) April 5, 2018

In lockstep, these so-called journalists role out the same talking points with the same downstream thinking. We only ever look at the effect, and never the cause. We may even find out that indeed Generation Sparta are racists or such, but that information will never come from the spineless British press. I have reached out to Generation Sparta myself to obtain a comment, and will update this article should i receive one.

And so we see how a crime is manufactured from the truth.

Chief Inspector David Moore of the Police Service of Northern Ireland said:

"We are treating this as a hate incident at present and we are making a number of enquiries.

"The PSNI continues to make it clear that hate crime, in any form, is unacceptable."

That a pamphlet of relatively uncontroversial statements reveals that Ireland, which spent much of the last century witnessing extreme sectarian violence, can now no longer bear criticism of Islam is truly saddening. It is a hate crime, after all, to say “This is Ireland. This land is of the Irish.” Isn’t that what we were looking for, all those troubled years? Are we so deluded that we ignore that the most likely thing to unite a people is a common foe? I am willing to bet that if this group is bringing Protestants and Catholics together, there might actually be something to be learned; if not from the beliefs of Generation Sparta per se, but surely from how sectarian lines may be bridged.

I suppose as she reported the pamphlets to the police, we should leave the last word to Meg herself. Remember; the pamphlet warns against rape gangs. It is, you might say, an anti-rape leaflet.

If you talk to any woman about rape or sexual assault, the chances are that they will have a story about a time they were raped or almost raped or in fear of being raped. I don't think men realise that.

— Meg Brad (@MegMog95) March 28, 2018

May I suggest that the men of Generation Sparta realize that very well?

It is very easy to just be accepting of everything. To imagine that nothing really matters, and history was backward, dirty. Racist. Homophobic. This way of thinking leads us to value nothing, to preserve nothing of ourselves. The very idea that somewhere a religious person might be offended by a leaflet drives a multi-branch crackdown to root out these evil people who have looked at the world as it is, and not as we would wish it to be.

The establishment is terrified. You can see it in the reaction to wrongthink. It is this lack of thought in the response that will ultimately prove Generation Sparta right, and the media, the police, the political establishment and probably-gender-studies-major-Meg, will all be proven wrong. If you cannot think freely, then you will act as a slave.

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The worst part of that reality is that it is so easily preventable; if we steel ourselves, put our shoulders back, and contend with the problems at hand. All we have to do is take responsibility for our own futures.

Is that really so hard?

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