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ditttiii · 4 years ago

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Brothers Conflict || 03.

Thrust into an already established family, you struggle to find your footing while dodging the advances of seven, incredibly good looking stepbrothers.

Your father marrying, and you suddenly having to live under the same roof with seven step brothers was a royal mess or so you had thought, Because them falling in love with you was so much worse. Or was it?

◈ Genre: Romance, Fluff, Humour, Smut and maybe a little angst. (PG-18) (step brother AU) (I do NOT support incest, this work is inspired by the popular anime/manga Brothers Conflict)

◈ Pairings: OT7 x Reader (reverse harem)

◈ CHAPTER THREE

WC: 2.7k

Warnings: Language (sfw)

Masterlist

"How about this?"

"Nah, it's too sideways," you reply from where you are standing near the doorway of your bedroom.

"Right or left?" Sunmi asks, as she grips the frame and distances her torso from the wall, trying to see for herself where she should shift the frame. From the looks of it, she's failing spectacularly at it.

Suppressing a snort, you answer ‘left’ and hum when she tilts the frame and you are finally satisfied with its position on the wall. Walking back in, you marvel at the sheer grandness of your room for the umpteenth time as you take in all the space around you. Roughly four times the size of your old bedroom, it was huge.

Floor to ceiling windows on the side opposite the bedroom door, before which was your queen-sized bed. A decent size, intricately designed bedside table beside it, with the floor underneath covered with a soft, plush rosy white carpet. A walk-in closet the size of your old bedroom, a bathroom with a jacuzzi, curtains heavy enough to suffocate and kill you if they were to ever fall upon your body; your new bedroom screams rich.

It would be a lie to say that you don't feel intimidated. Raised in a middle-class, humble neighbourhood, you hadn't in your wildest dreams ever imagined living in a room like this. But here you are, soaking in the reality of the moment; and realising that it feels like something between a dream and a nightmare.

Nearly four hours since you first started unpacking, and five since you had first met your new family, most of your room was organised. All boxes untaped and emptied as you and Sunmi worked hard to make the unnecessarily large, empty room less of a hotel room and more like the bedroom of a 19-year-old girl.

Sighing, you push the last book of your novel collection into the bookshelf. Made from some sort of whitewood, much like everything else, it was designed intricately and looming large over your small shadow.

"This is it."

Slouching, you fall onto your back, eyes straying to the ceiling above and the textures carved onto it, refusing to reply to Sunmi’s statement. Agreeing would mean that you'd have to let her go and you don't think you can, the isolation and abnormality of the situation already sinking in and scaring you.

"Mmn," you reply noncommittally instead.

A long sigh, and then your best friend is curling on the floor beside you, her hand snaking around yours, fingers intertwining, as she silently lets you know that she is here for you. Repressing the tears you can already feel trying to escape your eyes, you squeeze her hand back.

The clammy, ice-cold touch of your skin against hers goes unmentioned as you both lay there in silence.

"I'll call you every day," you whisper, your voice choked as your death grip around Sunmi's waist tightens, and she lets out a strangled moan before pushing you away.

"Woman, stop being so dramatic! You'll see me back in college every freaking day once summer ends and you know I'll come to see you whenever you want me to, the hour-long ride be damned," Sunmi chides. There’s no bite in her words, and her voice wobbles despite her trying to act tough, but you don't call her out on it and only nod.

"You better, you airhead, lord knows you'll probably sob your body dry without seeing me every day."

A giggle comes out of your best friend's tall, lean body, one you are entirely too envious of, and her eyes soften, your smile softening with it.

"Take care, will ya?"

"Always," you whisper back, and with one last kiss thrown over her shoulder, she leaves. Her figure grows smaller and farther with every step she takes, and you bite your lip to prevent a call from tumbling out. Not moving an inch until you hear the distant roar of her car driving away, you finally shut the door when you no longer hear or see her car.

Suddenly you feel scarily small. Like a tiny, irrelevant existence born in a world too large and glamorous; a world where you evidently do not belong.

Meandering through the floor, you gaze at the picture frames on the wall as though you are the actress of some old seventies cinema, bemoaning the absence of a long lost lover.

Dramatic, yes, but you have always been more on the theatrical spectrum of humankind, and it isn't like there is much you can do right now anyway. Not unless you want to hole up in your room and stew in your sadness alone. And even though that might sound appealing to most (considering what your room now looks like), it wasn't something you felt like doing at the moment.

So you mindlessly gaze at the pictures, the setting sun casting a warm orange glow in the darkening hallway as you try to find some semblance of familiarity, a speck of comfort or intimacy.

"Y/n?" a soft voice calls out to you, and you twist on your heels, your eyes meeting with those of Yoongi.

"Yoongi-oppa." Voice coming out soft, your words fade at the end as your eyes track the way Yoongi's face glows when the rays of the setting sun hit his skin. Long messy dark blonde hair makes space for his glittering curvy eyes to shine through, and your breath gets caught somewhere in your chest when you look at the vision that was Min Yoongi.

"Exploring?" he asks casually, but even without knowing him for all that long, you can detect the underlying layer of concern in his voice. You don't know if he is being open with you right now, or if you can just read him well, but the concern makes your heart feel a little warmer.

"Something like that." Your answer is ambiguous, but Yoongi doesn't ask you to elaborate, so you don't add anything more, turning back and looking at the pictures again instead.

"This something you enjoy?" Yoongi asks as he moves beside you, hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his pants, and leans; making himself comfortable against the wall.

Your eyes stray to him. "Sounds like you don't."

"Not really my forte, I can appreciate it from a distance, sure, but not an enthusiast," he replies, the back of his head hitting the wall behind as he looks up at you.

Humming, you shrug. "Same, I guess, it's just fascinating to me. I wish I was smart enough to understand what half of these actually mean, but I am not, so I just appreciate the beauty and move on."

"Fair enough."

You nod and let the silence reign again, but it's a comfortable silence, the kind of quiet where you are both lost in your own thoughts but at the same time appreciate the company of the other.

Slowly the sun sets behind you, and the glassed walls shimmer one last time before the ceiling lights are switched on, bathing the entire floor in warm but bright light.

Yoongi had been silent the entire time as you explored the floor like a child in a zoo, poking and prodding the potted plants, oo-ing and aah-ing over the art around you, fascinated and occupied with the attractions around.

But when the lights switch on, he clears his throat and gets up from the couch he had taken a seat on some time ago, head tilting as he wordlessly asks you a question. You nod back and smile, making your way to him as you finally get ready to spend some time with the rest of your newly acquired family.

As you both make your way to the main hall, you don't miss how your heart is feeling much lighter now. The silent company that Yoongi had provided you with seems to have put you at ease and calmed your racing thoughts.

Walking into the kitchen alone, you try your best to make as little noise as possible. Yoongi, much to your displeasure, had promised that he'd meet you out in a few minutes only to disappear inside of his bedroom and leave you to your own devices.

The sudden bout of bravado from earlier had left your body too, in its place leaving raring, gut-twisting anxiety.

Tiptoeing to the refrigerator, you take out a bottle and pour yourself a glass. The chilled water slides down your throat, quenching your thirst, and you let out a satisfied sigh, smacking your lips in contentment after.

"That thirsty, huh?"

You jump, startled, heart racing and in your throat, as your gaze snaps to the doorway and finds Seokjin standing there. Suit coat hung over his left arm, and a button-down shirt rolled up to his elbows, he was clearly returning back home after a workday.

"Holy fuck, you scared the shit outta me!"

Your brain to mouth filter is seemingly not working after being startled. Feeling anxious was a problem enough, but being scared after was evidently enough to send your last two brain cells out the window. Your common sense and the knowledge that Kim Seokjin was now your stepbrother, eldest stepbrother, flying out the window along with them.

You hear crickets chirping in the distance as an awkward silence blankets the room, and in that moment you want to die. Spontaneously combust and float away into thin air, disappear, dissolve, vanish—die.

"I am so sorry, can we pretend I didn't say that, “you voice out meekly, your eyes avoiding Seokjin’s and instead finding purchase on the wall behind him, seemingly fascinated by the utter whiteness of it.

Hearing a chuckle ring and break the awkwardness in the air, you shift your gaze to the source of said chuckle and catch your eldest brother's gaze. "It's alright Y/n, I get that this is a big adjustment. Please don't feel like you need to rush on anybody's accord, take your time."

And then Kim Seokjin smiles—his pouty, full lips stretched into a small but ridiculously warm smile, and something in your chest clenches at the sight of it. Warning bells ring in the back of your mind, and you squash the thoughts threatening to come forward, their not-so-appropriate nature resulting in an immediate rejection from your end.

Mumbling a thank you, you let him know you'll be down soon and then dash to your bedroom, slamming the door closed once you're inside and sinking down onto the floor.

What the hell was that!?

Raking a hand through your hair, you groan in annoyance, wincing when said hand gets stuck in a tangle and pulls a few strands loose.

Looking back at your impression so far in front of Seokjin, one of your seven step brothers, it had been nothing but absolutely marvellous. So you can't imagine what could possibly go wrong when you sit down at the dinner table and are surrounded by all seven of them.

Nothing, nothing at all, nope-nada-zilch!

Frustrated, you slide a hand down your face, hoping to calm down, but the move only ends up irritating your skin under. The day has been long, and all that you pray for now is that it ends soon. Your bed, which from the looks of it was fit for royalty, was beckoning you over too.

With one last huff, you are pushing yourself up onto your feet and to the bathroom to splash some water, before you go and join the rest of your new family.

Pulling the chair in, you wring your hands nervously under the table, away from any prying eyes. One by one, the rest of your family filters in and takes a seat; Seokjin and Yoongi both pick their seats at the two heads of the table. Hoseok and Namjoon sit on either side of you, with Jimin plopping himself down opposite you, and getting flanked by Jungkook and Taehyugn on either side.

Not much conversation had taken place as they picked their seats, everyone sufficiently tired enough after a long day, but they had smiled or nodded at you when they first entered the dining room.

'Well most of them at least,' you think, eyeing the two youngest, who had both refused to give you even a cursory glance, resulting in your smile going unseen and unreciprocated. Their attitude, however, doesn't bother you too much at this point; as it was, they were virtually nothing more than strangers to you.

Conversations pick up around you, and you feel slightly out of place, as though you are a guest over for dinner rather than their new stepsister, but the feeling doesn't last long, because both Namjoon and Hoseok soon pull you into a conversation. Inquiries come forth about your day, and how your unpacking had gone.

The conversation is mostly superficial, nothing too emotionally challenging; neither of them ask how it feels being a part of their family or something like that, and you are relieved. Grateful, because you don't know if you'd be able to answer those questions anyway. The whole situation is still very odd no matter how many minutes of the day pass.

Someone clears their throat, and your eyes snap to Seokjin, who was pushing his chair back and picking up his glass, the red wine inside sloshing with the movement.

"I've done this before, and yet it never gets any less nerve-wracking," Seokjin starts, and your eyes furrow in confusion, but he continues before you can think about it any more. "Y/n," he says and tips his head in your direction, "I know this must feel a little scary—actually, scratch that, you're probably terrified right now, and that's okay.” he pauses, and takes a breath before continuing, “I'm sure it feels crazy suddenly being thrust into an already established family and being told that now you're one of them, and I just want you to know that I get it. We get it, and we are here for you. If you don’t want to accept us as family, that’s okay too; all of us would understand and support whatever decision you make. I just...” Sighing, he locks eyes with you.

“...I just hope you can let us in eventually, family or not."

Seokjin's eyes bore into yours as he says this, stressing the 'us', and you gulp, feeling the back of your throat tighten at his words. Sensing the fine thread of control that you had over your emotions loosening, you swivel your gaze to the table instead, nodding, your vision growing blurry as you try to blink back the burn in your eyes.

The room goes quiet, as the boys give you time to collect yourself—or sob, you don't know, but you appreciate the consideration nonetheless.

It was going good, it really was. You were holding on, no matter how precarious the hold was, you were holding on. Grasping onto that last string of control and restraint you had with all of your might.

But then Hoseok is wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his side, letting you nestle your face in the crook of his neck, and the string snaps, his neck growing wet as tears streamed down your face and slid down his skin.

For a few minutes, you forget that you were now surrounded by strangers who you had to accept and call your family. For a few false, delusional minutes you forget that they don't know you, that the care they were showing was genuine and not something they were obligated to. That the one whose hands were drawing circles across your back, the one whose voice was whispering reassurances in your ear—stupid sweet-nothings that you would tell a small child to make them feel better, actually gave a shit about you.

You forget the reality and slip into a safe headspace, letting the warmth of another human encircle you, hold you, wrap you in its cocoon as you weep.

A/N: dedicating this chapter to @mel-gonzalez07, one of my oldest, most loyal readers, and more than anything else an amazing friend. ily angel 💖

Y/n is going through some shitt here. Imagine being thrust into a dynamic that has been established for years, and then having to act like you are meant to be a part of it.

The taglist for the story can be found:- here. A kind reminder that tumblr sometimes doesn’t give an alert for a tag notification, but you’ll find the notification in your notification dash. So, check it once a week as I usually update weekly.

Feedback means the world to me, so tell me what you thought. What would you do if you were in oc’s shoes?

Until next time! Take care you sweet soul and Oo! Go stream folklore 💖

Tag-list: @mel-gonzalez07 @favsssxx @imluckybitches @nomimits7 @alex4243 @calling-dips-on-j-hope @joonsinnerchild @iconicgguk @untamedfaith @kaheryn @nottodayjjk @moments-of-melancholy @gee-nee @confusemonkey @beautyyounggirl @blossoming-cherrytrees @seoul9711 @btsismybiass @toochie-too @sugakookie0698 @maboiisuga @kurohas-world @namseokiesmoonv @kerikaaria @chiidbits @girlyyzzyz @loveyoongles @btsfeelzies @knjkitten @honeyspillings @thestrugglesofateenagedirtbag @starrykook97 @xanny91 @leilalago @jiminie-08 @voguejoonie @lovelikeyouwant

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dweemeister · 5 years ago

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Movie Odyssey Retrospective

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937)

On December 21, 1937, Hollywood’s stars and executives strode a blue carpet ushering them into a packed Carthay Circle Theatre in Los Angeles. The chilly night air typified expectations of the film premiering that evening. This was a premiere unlike any other, one for an animated feature film. During the silent film era and first decade of talkies, animated film evolved from simple gag drawings to endowing animated characters with personalities to character-driven short films heavy on slapstick (think Looney Tunes). For Walt Disney, supervising director David Hand, and the band of underpaid animators that they oversaw, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (the first cel-animated feature film; the oldest-surviving animated feature is from 1926 and the first animated feature is now lost) was a statement of purpose – an artistic culmination stemming from the Mickey Mouse shorts and especially the Silly Symphony series. But on the night of the premiere, Walt, Hand, and the animators that were invited or purchased a ticket had no clue how the audience would receive their work. With a fortune invested in the movie’s production, “Disney’s Folly” was predicted to be financially ruinous.

The lights dimmed. The audience found themselves entranced by the opening shot of the Queen’s castle; they applauded the background art when no animation was on the screen; they laughed at the dwarfs’ antics and adored the childlike Snow White. Then came Snow White’s presumed death. As her body rested in a glass coffin and the dwarfs and woodland animals tended to her wake, Walt, Hand, and the animators looked around the theater in disbelief. The calculating Hollywood executives, the pampered actors, and the cynical journalists and film reviewers sniffed their noses, some openly weeping. “Love’s first kiss” be damned; the animators, Hand, and Walt had triumphed. Walt’s dream of making animated cinema as dramatically and emotionally impactful as any live-action film had been realized. Securing the studio’s future to the temporary relief of Roy O. Disney (who managed the studio’s finances so often overspent by Walt), Snow White began the most important and accomplished run of consecutive animated features in history. By the end of that run with Bambi (1942), seldom would any animated films in the decades that followed achieve that mix of dramatic and emotional power without condescending to its audience.

I sometimes wonder about what it must have been like to be present when the Lumière brothers’ The Arrival of a Train at La Ciotat (1896 short film, France) premiered to an audience that, according to some accounts, panicked and dove out of the way as the train moved closer to the camera. Or when Atlanta Mayor William B. Hartsfield organized three days of celebration prior to the whites-only premiere of Gone with the Wind (1939). These are moments where the spectators could rightfully say they had never seen anything like the film they had watched. The same is true with Snow White’s premiere.

The Silly Symphony series allowed Walt’s animators to experiment with techniques that might be used in a feature film; the multiplane camera introduced during these short films provided depth and dimension, infusing backgrounds with atmosphere to influence emotion. Snow White utilized the multiplane camera to create the grandeur of the Queen’s castle and, perhaps most astonishingly, capturing Snow White’s disorientation and fear after the Huntsman – ordered by the Queen to murder the Fairest of Them All – spares her, beseeching her to flee. During Snow White’s flight, the lighting, fast-moving multiplane camera effects (blink or you will miss them), and the personification of nature as she descends deeper into the forest can be attributed to the innovations of Silly Symphonies, particularly The Old Mill (1937 short). The techniques found in this scene alone (yes, this includes those mysterious eyes in the dark and mossy trees that bear human faces) continue to influence countless animated films and television shows. It is magnificent artwork in any era, deserving to be taught frame-by-frame to those aspiring to make animated cinema.

The expenses taken to make Snow White required that character designs and movements portray only what is essential. Characters are designed and move in a way that helps them act in their scenes. With little experience in animating humans prior to Snow White, the title character (designed by Charles Thorson, who left Disney in protest for Warner Bros. to design Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd) and the Prince’s facial movements occasionally awkward. The Queen, who becomes larger than life with her flowing black and red cloak, is imposing – before and after drinking her transfiguring formula. But the best work is animation supervisor Fred Moore’s (pre-donkey Lampwick from 1940’s Pinocchio, Timothy Q. Mouse in 1941’s Dumbo) character design for the seven dwarfs. If one had no idea of each dwarf’s name – Doc, Grumpy, Sleepy, Happy, Bashful, Sneezy, and Dopey – prior to watching Snow White, their personalities could be guessed even without audio or motion. Their features would be terrifying in live-action, but the audience has already accepted their design because they have suspended their disbelief in magic mirrors and a princess who is understood by animals. Their body shapes and exaggerated facial features (nobody in real life has a nose like Grumpy; no drowsy person’s eyelids stay that half-shut like Sleepy’s) make each dwarf distinct, allowing the audience to recognize which dwarf is which without much confusion.

The famous “Heigh-Ho” sets this table early. When animator Shamus Culhane (a Bray Productions animator during the silent era; an uncredited co-director on 1941’s Mr. Bug Goes to Town from Fleischer Studios) was assigned the sequence where the dwarfs march home, it took him and his assistants a half-year to complete the animation. With direction from Hand and Moore, Culhane was directed to have the dwarfs march to the tempo of the musical number, but to bestow each with their own physicality. For a moment that lasts less than fifty seconds within a song, Culhane and his assistants’ painstaking labors set the standard of granular detail and individuality that the animating teams working on Snow White took upon themselves. Snow White’s seven dwarfs are brilliant comic actors, prancing in front of gorgeous watercolor backgrounds. The character design practices implemented in Snow White were improved on each entry of Disney’s Golden Age (which I demarcate as Snow White to Bambi). This development saw the early Disney animated features – along with the best Technicolor films of the 1930s and ‘40s such as The Wizard of Oz (1939) – become instrumental in setting Western cinema’s color coding, where characters and backgrounds express ideas and emotions in conjunction with character and production design.

As Snow White is a fairy tale, so it has the logic of one. In a time where filmmakers and audiences obsess over plot rather than character-driven emotion and themes, viewers could be taken aback by how abruptly Snow White changes moods and the title character’s behavior. Snow White has been ridiculed by some feminist critics, but I find that many of their justified concerns about the character – from her unprompted cleaning of the dwarfs’ house and her pining for a handsome man to whisk her away upholding gendered roles – are too often based on the assumption that she is a woman and that this film was intended for children. That is incorrect on both counts. Snow White in the original Grimm fairytale is a child, and in Disney’s version she has been thankfully aged up to (or is on the cusp of becoming) an adolescent. Walt made a film appealing to people of any age, hoping that its humor and pathos could be accessible to all.

Snow White, a young girl who has known nothing but submission to her stepmother, the Queen, is quite naïve, knowing little of the dangers outside the castle walls. Her stepmother’s obsession of physical beauty has influenced how she thinks, especially as she seeks personal validation from others (be it the Prince or the dwarfs). In the context in which she was raised, her passivity is understandable. Even if that means Snow White is a passive, unambitious character, her gentleness, which remains after the trauma with the Huntsman, is what makes her the fairest of them all. Characters act the way they do because of her compassion. Snow White, with her romantic longings, probably should not be emulated, but she sets the template that the most fascinating Disney animated heroines have built on.

One of the common themes in fairy tales is the assumption of increasing responsibilities as an individual matures. Though far more obvious in Pinocchio and Bambi (the latter is not a fairy tale), this dynamic also exists in Snow White. With the Queen’s physical and sexual withering, it is Snow White’s time, the film implies, to become an adult – adulthood arrives at differing times among human cultures. Her interactions with the dwarfs serve as a kind of rehearsal for adulthood, effectuated the moment the Prince revives her. These adult responsibilities are communicated through the gendered lens of mainstream 1930s filmmakers. When a female character is the star in a Disney animated canon film, how these responsibilities are portrayed and related to the protagonist depend on how each film’s writers understood gendered roles of their respective eras – the submissiveness of the 1930s; the corporate (in the negative sense), sloganeering feminism of the 2010s; and the rare exceptions. No matter the Disney animated film, those themes of one’s duties in the natural order are omnipresent across the canon. Such lessons are not only for children. Don’t let those dismissive of animated cinema (especially if they think that film history can be written without the Disney animated canon) tell you otherwise.

Musical films became possible after the introduction of synchronized sound, which heralded the end of the silent film era. In the early talkie years, studios – looking to experiment with sound – saturated theaters with musicals. Across the 1930s, the popularity of the genre rose and fell. Snow White arrived at a low tide for musicals, with Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers’ partnership nearing its end and Shirley Temple, though still a massive draw, approaching her teenage years. Yet 1937 proved one of the most important years in musical film history, as those that adored Snow White linked animated features with musicals (the fact that Snow White boasted the world’s first soundtrack album for a film also helped). It is not coincidental that when Fleischer Studios set forth on Gulliver’s Travels (1939) – distributed by Paramount – as their response to Snow White, that film was also a musical. This link has proven resilient to the present day – pointless and unimaginative metatextual scoffing aside.

The creators of this early Disney sound are composer Frank Churchill (numerous Disney shorts and features from 1930 until Bambi) and lyricist Larry Morey (select shorts and Bambi) on the songs and composers Paul J. Smith (Pinocchio and 1954’s 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea) and Leigh Harline (Pinocchio, Mr. Bug Goes to Town) for the score. Despite the audio quality showing its age and the somewhat limited orchestra, the collective musical work is sublime, representing one of the greatest musical movie soundtracks as well as one of the best film scores of all time.

After a grand overture from Smith and Harline, “I’m Wishing/One Song”, considered a single song with two halves, is sung by Snow White (Adriana Caselotti and her distinctive high-pitched voice that is perfect for the character), then the Prince (Henry Stockwell). Simple are the lyrics. In a world of love at first sight, we learn so much about Snow White, the Prince, and the Queen in just three minutes. Delicate strings and a subtle harp line reflect Snow White’s longing and the Prince’s passion (listen closely to the score from start to finish and you’ll hear a rare film score where the harpist does plenty of emotional heavy lifting). The second half, “One Song” introduces us all too briefly to Stockwell’s beautiful singing voice – a type of voice that would all but disappear from popular music after the 1930s ended – and lyrics that, to reiterate, seem simple but are tremendously evocative.

One song I have but one song One song Only for you

One heart Tenderly beating Ever entreating Constant and true

Other musical highlights appear as Snow White flees into the forest (a dynamic example of action scoring in a Disney animated film), as well as her accompaniment through the forest by the woodland animals with, “A Smile and a Song”. Soon after, “Whistle While You Work” appears as the film is barely thirty minutes in. “Heigh-Ho” follows immediately after that. Snow White is packed with hit songs that have gained pop culture cachet outside the film. The weakest song in Snow White might be “Dwarf’s Washing Song”, which adds nothing to the dwarfs’ characterization but exemplifies how committed the musical team are in supporting the animators’ use of slapstick. When articulating the Queen’s villainy and second act transformation, Smith and Harline depend on string tremolos and churning strings and brass to reflect her whirlwind of fury.

Snow White’s signature song speaks to her nascent romantic desires. In the film’s greater subtext, it is also about her coming of age, the end of childhood, to take her place in what she believes is the natural order of things. “Someday My Prince Will Come”, in a slow three-quarter time evoking a Strauss waltz, allows Caselotti to breathe. Listen to Caselotti’s musical phrasing. In each luftpause, Churchill’s music and Morey’s lyrics allow the lines to rise and fall between two words, imbuing each bar with torrents of feeling. The same thing exists in “I’m Wishing/One Song”, to breathtaking results. “Someday My Prince Will Come” is popular among jazz musicians due to its chord structure, becoming a jazz standard when a Jewish band named the Ghetto Swingers, taking inspiration in the song’s hope for happier days ahead, performed the song at Theresienstadt concentration camp in 1943.

No one composes songs like “Someday My Prince Will Come” or “I’m Wishing/One Song” in films anymore – yes, I realize how trite that statement is – as modern composers and lyricists working in musical films/theater oftentimes try to fill out a meter with a repeated lyric (which, to my ears, is an admission of creative surrender) or, more interestingly to yours truly, rely more on ballad-like tunes. The voices of Caselotti and Stockwell lend well to the compositions they sing – reminiscent of Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy’s musical movies at Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM) in the 1930s. The partnership of Churchill, Morey, Smith, and Harline produced a stunning musical gift to audiences, setting the Disney musical sound that would last through the mid-century.

As the attendees of Snow White’s premiere left in jubilation, few could have imagined how complete Disney’s victory would be. Charlie Chaplin extolled the film as surpassing even his wildest expectations; esteemed director Cecil B. DeMille expressed his desire to make films like Snow White. Hugh Harman and Rudolf Ising, who founded Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies for Warner Bros. and were currently Disney’s rivals at MGM, sent a telegram: “Our pride in the production is scarcely less than yours must be and we are grateful to you for fulfilling an ambition which many of us have long held for our industry.” In Europe, the admiration was just as vocal. Snow White’s native Germany received Disney’s adaptation ecstatically; the nation’s then-leader – soon to set Europe and North Africa aflame – considered it a great cinematic achievement. In the Soviet Union, the state media praised the dwarfs for reflecting communist ideals; outside of the Kremlin’s propagandists, no less than Sergei Eisenstein – the director of the most infamous massacre scene in cinematic history – proclaimed Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs as the greatest film ever made.

After cinemagoers made Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs the highest-grossing film of all time when adjusting for inflation, Walt Disney, David Hand, and their crewmembers knew that the world’s expectations for animated feature films had been raised to unimaginable heights. The studio – soon to be housed in a Burbank headquarters designed and constructed thanks to the profits from Snow White – continued to make short films including Mickey Mouse and friends, but short films would no longer be its focus. The Disney animators soon set themselves to work on four history-altering films: a wooden boy who learns selflessness and integrity, a “concert feature”, a pachyderm who triumphs because of his difference, and the growth of the Young Prince of the Forest. Despite the financial windfall of Snow White, Disney did not distribute their own films – RKO distributed all Disney (which did not become a major studio until the 1990s) films until 1956 – and Snow White was the only Golden Age Disney film that was an immediate financial success upon release (the others would recoup their costs after 1945).

During Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs’ release and in the years immediately after, the world was shattered by violence and remade. Like its fellow great films of the 1930s, Snow White provided solace to those seeking escape from global forces beyond their control. But few of its contemporaries could be said to have been as influential. Almost every animated film – no matter its origin, style, or year released – owes something to Snow White. Animated film has existed since the nineteenth century and there were animated features before its release. Cinema is one of the youngest of artforms, but the mythos of Snow White does not look likely to change. It is the beginning of animated cinema as we know it.

My rating: 10/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs was upgraded from an initial score of 9/10. It is the one hundred and sixtieth feature-length or short film I have rated a ten on imdb.

This is the fourteenth Movie Odyssey Retrospective. Movie Odyssey Retrospectives are reviews on films I had seen in their entirety before this blog’s creation or films I failed to give a full-length write-up to following the blog’s creation. Previous Retrospectives include Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939), Dumbo (1941), and Oliver! (1968).

NOTE: This is the 700th full-length Movie Odyssey review I have published on tumblr.

#Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs #Snow White #Walt Disney #David Hand #Adriana Caselotti #William Cottrell #Wilfred Jackson #Larry Morey #Perce Pearce #Ben Sharpsteen #Fred Moore #Charles Thorson #Shamus Culhane #Frank Churchill #Paul J. Smith #Leigh Harline #My Movie Odyssey

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nikitasbt · 6 years ago

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Two blockbusters of Tsui Hark: Green Snake (青蛇 ) and The Blade (刀)

Watching influential Hong Kong movies can be fun, from time to time. As the western viewer and arthouse admirer, I'm not the type to watch blockbusters frequently. I'm used to Hollywood blockbuster reminding me of childhood, and I really detest most of them. But Chinese and Hong Kong blockbusters are still something I'm not fed up with. Many of them rely upon the most beautiful Chinese actresses and have absolutely no other remarkable features. For instance, the first blockbuster of Vietnamese born Hong Kong director Tsui Hark Green Snake is exactly this type of film. Green Snake (1993)

Tsui Hark became famous and successful in the Hong Kong cinema industry after producing the films of John Woo A Better Tomorrow and The Killer. These films are still one of the most commercially successful features in Hong Kong. In the mid of 1990-s, Tsui Hark came up with his own blockbusters as director. Green Snake is based on the old Chinese legend about two reptilian sisters who assume the human form and learn the peculiarities of life in the world of people. They learn about love, jealousy, intrigues, lie, dishonor and many other things appearing new to them. The story revolves around a man they both try to seduce and Buddhist monk, a symbol of chastity who brings a lot of obstacles to more or less innocent trials and lives of White Snake and Green Snake. The plot is very simple and I doubt it can be really entertaining. The development of the story is always obvious, there is a lot of weird slapstick humour and even mo lei tau elements.

Though, all these things mean totally nothing as the film is just based on the performance of two lead actresses - ex-Miss Hong Kong 1983 Maggie Cheung (Green Snake) and Joey Wong known as The Goddess of The East and Chinese beauty icon. They form a tantalizing, sassy, quixotic, incendiary duo in Green Sanke, and watching them is nothing but heaven! The way they crawl as reptiles or change the forms, or talk is simply fascinating and enchanting. In fact, this is the only reason to watch this film. Had one resisted the charm of Maggie Cheung and Joey Wong he or she won't be able to watch even half an hour of this film. Talking about plot or idea of the film is nonsense. It's all about Maggie and Joey. Though I absolutely loved their roles I doubt I would ever feel like watching it again. The Blade (1995)

The second high budget film of Tsui Hark was much more remarkable, from my point of view. This is a wuxia film, however, the depiction of martial arts here is very different from what the Oriental cinema usually offers. The blades don't fly and characters don't walk the air while fighting, like in famous Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon or Hero. The fighting scenes are set in a quite realistic down-to-earth way.

The Blade had completely demolished all the glamour from Oriental depiction of ancient times' martial arts. We see Chinese lands overwhelmed by bandits who sack the towns, burn down the houses, plunder, kidnap and harass women. The people are not protected, they mostly live in the shacks or rundown houses. Their lives cost nothing and we see the troubled times in Chinese history. There is no trace of shiny Hollywood-like beauty John Woo, Ang Lee or Zhang Yimou used to add to their oriental wuxia or historical film. Unlike the films of those directors, The Blade doesn't make attempts to expose the Chinese culture and history to the audience from the other continents. This is a very realistic and lively experience Tsui Hark delivers. Those who are fond of romantic tales won’t like it.

Close-ups and frenetic camera work create a great participation effect. Watching this film, we can visualize the ancient times of China very well. And I think this is quite an achievement Tsui Hark's work. The story is told from the perspective of a young girl Ling who loves two men working at the blacksmith of her father and dreams about being with one of them in the future. She wonders who would be stronger so she can choose. Both men are into romance, frays with thugs, epic fights and revenge plots. The final scene of Ding-on's and Flying Dragon's battle is very dramatic and exciting. And all-in-all, the film offers quite an interesting story to follow.

Vincent Zhao plays the main role (he was also present in Green Snake in the role of Buddhist monk). However, my favourite part of the actor's performance was Valerie Chow playing seductive and dangerous femme fatale almost all the male characters of the film desire.

To sum up, I would say that The Blade is a decent work upon the martial arts and a properly Chinese fim. It could be great for those who are fascinated by Chinese history and culture, as The Blade shows the old times in an unusually realistic light. It is probably not as beautiful as many other Oriental films, but viable from the other hand.

#tsui hark #徐克 #Maggie Cheung #张曼玉 #王祖賢 #vincent zhao #趙卓 #honk kong film #hong kong cinema

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theinquisitivej · 6 years ago

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A Trio of Reviews – Catching up on Bumblebots, Peppy Maries, and the (Oscar) Favourite

I don’t go out to the cinema much in late December. I don’t drive, and I always visit family in a part of the country where a cinema isn’t exactly in walking distance. This hasn’t been much of a problem over the last few years, as there’s usually only one film out that I’m aching to see, and that’s often the one movie we all go out to see together. This most recent December though? It was nuts! All four of the big blockbusters that were playing were films I was interested in and excited to check out. Once the holidays were over, I had a lot of catching up to do. I’ve since seen all but one of the December releases (ironically enough the one I didn’t see was the one that, judging from its box office, everyone else went to go see – Aquaman), plus one other film that was weird, fascinating, and has been well received as a critical darling. So, here’s this week’s trio of reviews for The Favourite, Mary Poppins Returns, and Bumblebee, in the order I saw them in.

The Favourite

Artistically impressive but deliberately unpleasant.

The Favourite caught my attention when I first saw the trailer because it was a period drama that revelled in the fashion, the art, and the general finery of the early 18th Century, and yet the camera angles were strikingly different from what I’ve seen in other period dramas. The genre can be hit-of-miss for me, but every shot I saw in that trailer was doing something that interested me.

There’s a lot to chew on when it comes to the visual presentation of the film. Characters are often shot from low angles, and while this can make some characters seem confident and of noble stature, it also creates an uneasy feeling when we see people showing their vulnerability and flaws. Shooting people from this angle frames them as if they’re towering over the camera, and when you combine this with the magnificent attire on display, the visuals should, in theory, present the subject in their best light. But Queen Anne, played by the immeasurably skilled Olivia Colman, is often shown to be feeble and susceptible to manipulation from such angles, and we see many others be vulgar, cruel, and inhuman in ugly ways. The film shows a familiarity with the beautiful elegance of the film’s setting and other examples of the period drama, and it subverts your expectations time and time again by gradually turning your sympathies around on the characters you expect to like and expect to hate. It points the camera directly at the most horrible aspects of this world and its people, and there’s a strangely captivating quality to that. It’s ugly, but it’s magnetic as well.

The three performances at the heart of the film are what sustain your interest throughout The Favourite, because all three of the actresses are on top form. Emma Stone plays Abigail in a way that has her act very differently depending on who she’s talking with, showing just how hard she’s working to stay afloat in this world of politics where she’s at a disadvantage, giving a performance that keeps you guessing what her true nature is for much of the runtime. Rachel Weisz evokes such commanding authority and confidence as Lady Sarah, wearing each of her impressive outfits better than anyone else in the film because you believe that she deserves the station she’s acquired for herself, even if she is ruthless. Olivia Colman has taken a lot of the focus as Queen Anne, being the one to snag the ‘Best Actress in a Leading Role’ category while Stone and Weisz have been relegated to ‘Supporting Role’ nominations. All three of them equally deserve to be called leads, and to tell the truth, I’m pretty sure Queen Anne has less screen time than either of the other two protagonists. Nevertheless, all three of these actresses deserve praise for their performances in these leading roles, and Colman is no different; she expresses a wide range of emotions with sharp sincerity, always making her scenes uncomfortable to watch because you really feel like you’re in the room with someone having an emotional breakdown and you have no idea how to help them. These actresses are excellent and make The Favourite worth watching even without all the other impressive features the film has to offer on top of this.

The flipside of The Favourite doing so much to emphasise the rotten nature of this world and its characters is that, while the visuals and all the formal features of the film are praiseworthy, the final shape of the narrative has so little warmth to it that it leaves me feeling a little cold towards it. The film is a hundred percent committed to its vision of unflinchingly showing you the harsh ugliness underneath the elegant surface of this point in history, but because of this I felt disengaged with many of the character’s journeys because they would do awful things to other people for selfish reasons, and they did so with such little humanity that I simply didn’t want to see them succeed, nor were any of them appealing enough to make seeing them succeed feel satisfying. The only character I had any sympathy for by the end was Queen Anne, as she’s a woman in desperate need of help surrounded by people who’re only interested in her as a means of furthering themselves. There is some dramatic meat to that, and the bleakness of it is presented with enough purpose to make me think about the film for a long time after I was finished watching it. After all, history isn’t always satisfying, and it’s filled with people who did terrible things to get ahead, so this film would probably be compromised in its vision if it did try to make this unflinching look at this particular point in history and then deliver a narrative where good people are rewarded and bad people are punished. But there’s only so far that a film with as little compassion in it as this can go before my spirit gets tired of seeing mistreatment and hopelessness. The Favourite’s technical qualities are a treat for the mind, but its general outlook is draining on my soul.

Final Ranking: Silver.

The Favourite is coarse, and the emphasis of selfish people being terrible does wear on me and get in the way of me engaging with the motivations of several characters. But the technical skill on display in the cinematography, the lighting and colour coordination, and the three central performances come together to make an impressive piece that, even with my reservations about the story, results in a fascinating and distinct film.

Mary Poppins Returns

Mary Poppins Returns is a sequel to a classic film that follows the framework of its predecessor so closely it’s almost beat-for-beat. And yet even with this deliberate mimicking of Mary Poppins, it also somehow tells a different story and doesn’t come across as if it’s resting on its laurels. At the point in the film where the original would be playing ‘A Spoonful of Sugar’, Returns has a song about putting an imaginative and fun spin on everyday activities. When you’re thinking that it’s time for a trip to an idyllic 2D animated landscape, Returns obliges. If you’re realising that we’re scheduled for a ‘Step in Time’ music number, Returns gives you one with lamp-lighters instead of chimney sweeps.

But if you think that reprises of ‘Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious’ or ‘Feed the Birds’ would be an easy slam-dunk of nostalgic ecstasy that the film would be foolish not to go for, you’d be surprised. Apart from the odd line of music here or there that’s snuck in at just the right moment to make you remember the original film, none of the original songs are to be found, and that works immensely well in Returns favour. The movie is already lifting the structure of the original film wholesale; if it took anything else from it we’d be approaching live-action remake levels of similarity. Instead, the new songs are there to stand on their own, and they mimic the sound of the Sherman Brothers’ music closely enough that you feel elated when the film wants you to be having a good time, and deeply moved when it wants you to sob your eyes out. But they’re also different enough and of unique enough subject matter that the new songs by Scott Wittman and Marc Shaiman (whose previous song writing work includes the Hairspray musical) feel totally distinct, even if they do have a familiar sound to them. Some of my favourites include Emily Blunt’s playful performance of ‘Can You Imagine That’, the amazing choreography of ‘Trip a Little Light Fantastic’, and of course the tender bittersweetness of ‘The Place Where Lost Things Go’.

The casting also holds up across the board. Pixie Davies, Nathanael Saleh, and Joel Dawson play Annabel, John, and Georgie, the three children of the now adult Michael Banks. They strike the right tone for the central child characters in a Mary Poppins story, demonstrating a decent balance between being impossibly sweet-natured but also strong-headed enough to say what they feel as they feel it and sometimes cause trouble because of that. It’s difficult for me to think of many distinguishing characteristics which mark each of them out, but in all honesty I could say the same about the original Banks children, even after all those viewings. Plus, having three children rather than two does shift the dynamic enough to make the experience feel different. Ben Whishaw plays the adult Michael Banks, who grew up to be an artist who’s struggling to make end’s meet through his work at the bank, so while he did pursue a creative life that marks him out as a different man to his father, he also resembles him in many ways, and clearly risks making the same mistakes that he did. But the thing that resonates the most about his character is the set-up that his wife passed away not too long ago, and the whole family is still coming to terms with the hole this has left in their lives. Whishaw’s performance stabs at your heart, conveying how helpless Michael feels without her, but also how hard he’s trying to not show this to the rest of the family. His resolve to soldier on reminds me of the long walk Mr. Banks takes at the end of the original, knowing he is most likely going to be fired, but moving on anyway. The connection between the two characters is well thought out, and Whishaw impresses immensely. There’s not as much time dedicated to the grown-up Jane Banks played by Emily Mortimer, which is a shame, but it does feel right to see her be inspired by her mother’s activism as a suffragette and campaign for worker’s rights. Lin-Manuel Miranda fills in the Bert role of the lovable guide who’s savvy to Mary’s unknowable nature as Jack, an apprentice that Bert seems to have more-or-less raised himself. Miranda sings his songs with such cheery charm that they instantly transport you back to the world of Mary Poppins, demonstrating his golden touch when it comes to musicals, surprising none of the fans of his previous work, including Hamilton and the songs from Moana. Finally, Emily Blunt is another transcendent Mary Poppins. Yes, we now have two cinematic portrayals of the same character which are different, but both stunning. She accentuates some of the aspects I most enjoy about the character, namely the prim, immaculate composure that oozes authoritative control, but can instantly, effortlessly transform into cheeky playfulness before your eyes. She nails it, and as far as I’m concerned, we now have two Mary Poppins performances that are practically perfect in every way.

This review is already running long, so I’ll get through this quickly, but… my God, did seeing traditional 2D animation in the style of Disney’s original hand-drawn pictures on the big screen again in 2019 move me beyond words. There’s plenty of quality 2D, non-CGI animation out there in different forms, whether its in television, short films, the labour of love that animators are putting out there on the internet, or anime, but we really do need more of this mode of animation out there. There have been some truly beautiful 2D animated films over the last decade, but I want to see more of this kind of genuine effort from Disney, the company that put this cinematic hand-drawn animation on the map for western audiences. This beautiful artform needs to be preserved and cultivated, and I hope this is a step towards Disney doing more to help with that.

I will admit that Returns following Mary Poppins’ structure so closely did take me out of the film to a degree, as it makes me more aware that I’m watching a sequel that’s very deliberately aping the film that came before it, which makes it feel less organic than it could have been. To be fair, I’m not sure what else you could have done to make it have as strong a connection as it does to the first film. There’s also an unnecessary sequence here or there which are intended to be thrilling but I never felt like there was much tension to them, such as the race against the clock at the end. It doesn’t reach the heights of the original, but wasn’t that always going to be the case? In every other respect, this film is a delight and a satisfying emotional journey.

Final Ranking: Silver.

You can’t watch Mary Poppins for the first time again. But this film nevertheless gives you a taste of what you felt, whether it’s that joyous exuberance of having a jolly holiday with Mary, or the bittersweet reflection of an adult acknowledging that time keeps pressing on, the seasons change, but you can still find the magic in today.

Bumblebee

The director of Kubo and the Two Strings directed a Transformers movie.

I’m currently doing academic research into the history of American stop-motion animation. I plan for one of my chapters to be on Laika and their four (five by the time I finish, though I hope there’ll be even more than that) excellently crafted films, including Kubo. Watching Bumblebee, I noted a few similarities between it and Kubo, such as a young main character going on an emotional journey as they struggle to come to terms with the death of one or more of their parents, and a celebration of the emotive powers of music that enable us to express our inner feelings, as well as Travis Knight’s general appreciation for certain specific older songs in general. So yes, watching Bumblebee did make me reflect on the approach to filmmaking of a director I’m deeply invested in for my work at the moment. What I’m saying is that watching a Transformers movie was a productive part of my ongoing academic research, and that is a bizarre place to find myself in.

But what’s even weirder than that is that one of these Transformers movies turned out to be a legitimately great film that I kinda love.

Everything that muddied the waters of past Transformers films that Michael Bay was involved in has been stripped away, and the simple narrative framework that exists underneath all of that has been strengthened by a script and style of presentation that knows how to make the most with very little. The majority of the film can be summarised as “a girl and her pet car”, and while the sceptical might call that inane, the people involved in making Bumblebee work hard enough with that premise to make it work for a full film.

Charlie, a teenage girl and the human protagonist of the film, has lost her father and is upset that the rest of her family has moved on (her mother remarried). Her dad was very supportive of her, and now that he’s no longer around, Charlie is deeply dissatisfied with the person she’s become since her father died, and she doesn’t believe she can complete certain tasks that mean a great deal to her without her father being there to help. Charlie feels she hasn’t turned out to be the amazing person her dad believed she could become, and it’s possible that she’s afraid that she’s letting not only herself down, but the memory of her father as well. Meanwhile, Bumblebee is a Transformer that was tasked with going ahead of the rest of the Autobots to safeguard Earth and be ready for when the rest of his comrades arrive on the planet to continue the fight against the Decepticons. But soon after he lands, he gets involved in a fight to the death that he almost loses. Gravely wounded, he uses the last of his strength to disguise himself as a yellow 1967 Volkswagen Beetle. Some time later, Charlie finds him, and what she thinks is a broken-down abandoned car comes into her possession. Charlie fixes him up in the hopes of having a working car that she can use to get away from things, but in the process, Bumblebee instinctively transforms and reveals himself. Bumblebee’s injuries have destroyed his capacity to speak and have left him with no memories of his past. After cementing the connection between these two individuals who each need help in order to heal from the trauma they’ve gone through, the rest of the film takes its time to reinforce this bond, resulting in a touching family sci-fi film with a friendship that I believe will be just as enduring as its various sources of inspiration, from E.T. to The Iron Giant.

Without being overstuffed, the film’s pacing benefits immeasurably, putting all its energy into making this friendship as sweet and fun to watch as possible. Hailee Steinfeld is fully engaged as Charlie, putting 110% into her interactions with the digital creation of Bumblebee. The emotions she displays at the different points of her relationship with the adorable Autobot are charmingly heartfelt. Whether she’s anxious about Bumblebee being discovered, jubilant at this chance of newfound freedom and a friend to experience it with, or angry and defensive when parts of her past with her father get unearthed, Steinfeld is always putting everything into this, even when her main acting partner isn’t there on the set alongside her. Which brings us to why having a director with a history in animation can do wonders for a film centring on a digital creation, because the Bumblebee in this movie is precious, lovable, and so captivating to watch. The design is streamlined so that every moving part serves a purpose, and that purpose is always to convey the inner thoughts and feelings of this robot. His expressions are dripping with soulful looks of his timidness, compassion, or mischievous side that never veers too far away from his well-meaning nature. He may be made of metal, but this CGI creature is so full of life. Both the arcs and the performances of these characters are relatively simple, but they’re executed with such consideration that they hit home in a remarkable way for me.

I could go on about how much I enjoyed the measured action that’s presented through restrained camera movements that clearly frame the subjects of the shot, or how I engaged with the action as much as I did because it consistently featured characters I was invested in or interested by, or how the actions characters took within these sequences offer insight into their general outlook, but I’ll leave it at that barely veiled summary. Bumblebee draws inspiration from several well received family sci-fi films with a lot of heart to them, and some of the positive parts of the action and general aesthetic of this live-action Transformers world are owed to the groundwork provided by Michael Bay’s films. But even if Bumblebee owes some credit to other films that have preceded it, it understands the deeper reasons for why the aspects that worked in these other properties were as successful as they were, and it weaves that informed technical prowess of storytelling and filmmaking with genuine love. Love for the idea of Transformers, love for coming of age classics with a fun twist to them, and a beautiful friendship between two characters who each heal from the love they show each other.

Final Ranking: Gold.

The film is a delight for its simplicity and earnestness, but that doesn’t mean there’s a lot of technical skill on display in the performances, the animation, or its use of colour and camerawork. It warms the soul, and my mind comes back to it more often than I’d ever expected. It’s got the touch.

#The Inquisitive J #reviews #film reviews #movie reviews #films #movies #film discussion #film critic #film criticism #critic #the favourite #the favourite review #mary poppins returns #mary poppins returns review #bumblebee #bumblebee review #the inquisitive j reviews

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the-song-of-the-mockingbird · 6 years ago

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Aidan Gillen may not have a face you instantly recognise, but he can change remarkably for each character he plays. It's better like that, he tells Kate Holmquist.

He doesn't stop moving in the hotel armchair. He pulls his black Adidas jacket up over his ears as though he's hiding. Then pulls it down and tries to sit still, but then his hands are in his hair constantly, pulling it, bending it, working it like clay, until eventually it stands straight up, like the black comb of an exotic bird.

I keep looking for characters in Aidan Gillen's malleable face: for the seductively amoral Stuart in Queer As Folk, for councilman Tommy Carcetti in The Wire, for Edward in Frank McGuinness's play, Someone to Watch Over Me or Mick in Harold Pinter's The Caretaker, for which Gillen was nominated for a Tony award after a New York Times review said he had outshone his co-actors, Kyle McLachlan and Patrick Stewart, not because they were inadequate - they were great - but because Gillen's energy was amazing.

Still dancing in his chair, Gillen leans on the marble shelf beside him, looks into the mirror and seems to watch the room behind him more than himself, with that shock of black hair sticking up like it's electrified. I'm distracted towards the mirror in an attempt to see what he's seeing and when I turn back, I realise he's been watching me watching him.

"You're a shape-shifter, aren't you? You can totally change your appearance at will," I suggest.

He smiles, settling into his chair. "Yea, I guess so." I've got his attention.

"You like that, don't you? Being described as a shape-shifter?"

"You are living through other people's stories. This is your life. Some of your most intense moments in your life are while you are pretending to be someone else. Hopefully, you have some sort of life that's your own, but it's all the same thing, really."

"Do you know who you are?" I ask him.

"I have an idea. Working as an actor . . . You are getting deep into being somebody else and that becomes a large part of your personality. Then you could be somebody else again next week," he says.

He has deliberately avoided being type-cast. "If something works you get asked to do four or five things the same. I've made an effort for the next job always to be something different."

Before Christmas, Gillen finished shooting a nightmarish thriller in Barcelona with 29-year-old director Rigoberto Casteneda, Black Out. He plays "an Alpha male doctor with a dual life", who becomes trapped in a lift with two other characters, played by Amber Tamblyn and Arnie Hammer. The film's tagline is "hope is not on the way".

GILLEN HAS MADE nearly 30 films and has appeared in dozens of theatre productions, but hasn't registered on the romantic lead radar like previous Irish heart-throbs Gabriel Byrne, Aidan Quinn and Colin Farrell. In looks, he's most like Farrell, with a bit of Stephen Rea and Richard Dreyfus thrown in, but without Farrell's charismatic public persona. Gillen is a light-switch, turning various qualities of energy on and off - sometimes within the space of a minute. And unlike Farrell, Gillen's face can be so ordinary that you'd miss him in a crowd. Now aged 38 and with 20 years of professional acting behind him, Gillen says he's aware at being just the right age to start leading in the sort of Hollywood films that could take him from highly respected working actor to mega-stardom.

He's so hard to pin down, he doesn't even identify with being an "Irish" actor. "In New York, they think I'm English, and in England they think that I'm from Ireland. If people don't have a strong sense of where you are from, it's to your advantage. I've never tried to push any kind of image. I feel at home in a situation where nobody knows who you are and what you do. I prefer not being recognisable in the street, the less people think they know about you the better. What do they want to know about you for, anyway?" he asks.

The son of an architect, who died last year, and a nurse, Gillen grew up in Drumcondra and was an altar boy in Gardiner Street church. At 14, he became involved in the National Youth Theatre but he didn't see it as a career. By Leaving Cert year, he'd fallen foul of the Christian Brothers. "A month before the Leaving Cert, a teacher sent me out of the classroom and I lay down on the roof of the building and decided it was time to move on. I liked school, but I didn't want to do any more of it," he says.

Gillen's "university" education began with a year living in London "watching the video of every film ever made". Then in 1988 he was cast in Billy Roche's Handful of Stars and met Jenny Tupper, who ran the Bush Theatre. "I lived with her for two and a half years. She was very supportive and encouraging." There was no sexual intimacy between them but Gillen says he got slagged for being her "toy boy", which he wasn't. "There was always a glass of Friexnet and a cup of quails' eggs and stimulating company of theatre people - Simon Callow, Alan Rickman, Frank McGuinness, Cathy Bourke, Lindsay Duncan. Always stuff going on. One time I was dying in bed with chicken pox, which I got at the rather old age of 21, and I woke up to find Frances Barber spoon-feeding me coconut ice-cream, which was almost like a fever dream. It was nice to have somewhere to be where I could talk to people, instead of an empty room on my own."

The actor he most admires is Donal McCann and the Irish playwright he would most like to work with is Conor McPherson - and McGuinness again, if the opportunity arose. As for Irish film-makers, he can't name one up-and-coming director he'd like to see cast him, which probably says something about the state of the Irish film industry.

GILLEN IS IN Dublin to play Teach in David Mamet's American Buffalo at the Gate. "What interests me most is the simple and straightforward plot: three small-time hustlers, hungry people, attempting to execute a rare coin heist and their efforts to keep on top as it falls apart. But behind that there's the background of the consumer capitalist society that they believe in and are existing on the margins of, and sometimes their efforts are desperate and desperately funny. They're treating each other like junkyard dogs, yet they are human. They're like a family. I think the play's got a heart even if the background is pretty black . . . Living is pretty black."

For the past three years, working on The Wire, he has fallen a little in love with the city it portrays, Baltimore - which likes to call itself "charm city" even though it's an east-coast backwater with a murder rate that's one of the highest in the US. Baltimore has been celebrated by novelist Anne Tyler and film-makers Barry Levinson and John Waters, but for the US public it is journalist David Simon who has explored the "rotten core" of this city, through drama series based on his non-fiction books that read like thrillers. Simon's first venture was Homocide: Life on the Streets, followed by The Corner and now, The Wire, which is about to film its fifth and final season.

Gillen has a real affection for The Wire, which Newsday called "the greatest dramatic series ever produced for television". He speaks passionately about the series' concerns, particularly how the education system is failing boys who have to decide whether to make something of themselves through education or join "the life" of street crime. One of the main characters is a cop turned teacher who becomes personally involved in his students' lives.

I tell him that my mother was a teacher in an all-black school in Baltimore; she kept a mattress for her eight-year-olds to sleep on and gave them money to buy lunch, since they stayed up all night with mothers on drugs and needed sleep and food more than education. He's fascinated to hear that people were trying to save these kids 40 years ago, but says: "I think there's a feeling that things are turning round in Baltimore."

Once we make the Baltimore connection, Gillen becomes himself and starts naming places he's become attached to as he kills time during breaks in filming: the Charles Cinema, which plays every arthouse film on the planet, and the Charles Club, a louche bar recently redesigned by the same designer who has worked on Barry Levinson's films. I tell him I got my European cinema education, for what it's worth, in the Charles Cinema and ask him if he's been to the Block, a porn district so risque in a 1950s kind of way that it's like a time warp. He instantly responds: "The Block. And it's right there in the middle of everything, by city hall!"

Blaze Starr, a stripper whose spinning neon pasties are one of my enduring childhood memories, was practically patron saint of the city when I was growing up there. He's fascinated by this bit of Baltimore porn history. Then we exchange John Waters anecdotes and he tells me that, in Fell's Point, the nutty little shop where Divine held court still exists. The Poles still take pride in their blonde beehives and now call themselves "Huns", he says. "When I get back to Baltimore, I kind of feel, you know, 'home'."

The cast and crew of The Wire can be "a bit cliquish" and Gillen likes his own company, though every weekend he can he flies back to London to see his two young children. As we say goodbye on the street, he vows that he will get a mention of Blaze Starr into The Wire. I watch him pull the collar of his chunky sheepskin suede jacket up around his ears, pat down his hair to make himself innocuous, and disappear into a city where only his old friends recognise him.

American Buffalo previews at the Gate Theatre from Feb 8 and opens Feb 13

Role model

Recent theatre creditsinclude Someone Who'll Watch Over Me by Frank McGuinness, New Ambassadors Theatre, London; The Caretaker by Harold Pinter, Roundabout Theatre Company, New York, for which he received a Tony Nomination; David Hare's adaptation of Anton Chekhov's Platonov, Almeida Theatre, London; Shakespeare's The Tempest and JM Synge's Playboy of the Western World, also at the Almeida; Mojo by Jez Butterworth, Royal Court Theatre, London; Marvin's Room by Scott McPherson, Hampstead Theatre, London; The Water Engine by David Mamet, Hampstead Theatre, London; Billy Roche's Belfry and Handful of Stars, Bush Theatre, London.

Film and television creditsinclude Rigoberto Castaneda's film Blackout; seasons three and four of The Wire; Law and Order; Shanghai Knights; Dice; The Final Curtain; My Kingdom; Queer as Folk, for which he received a BAFTA nomination; The Low Down, for which he was voted Best Newcomer at the 2000 Edinburgh film festival; Buddy Boy; Some Mother's Son; Circle of Friends; Mojo; Killing Time; and Safe.

#Aidan Gillen #game of thrones #Irish #actor #tv #movies

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grapehyasynth · 7 years ago

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FitzSimmons + 268. "Is that my shirt?" & 274. "Give it back!", please?

They’re so busy setting up for the housewarming party, then welcomingthe guests and helping them with their coats, then darting around the apartmentto make sure nothing breaks and there are enough drinks and snacks, that it’snot until well past ten that Fitz notices.

He’d been on his way to find Jemma, to tell her that hewould take over ice cube duty for an hour so she could finally have a drink anddance with their friends. But as he reaches the table at the side of theirdark, cramped living room, he blinks in recognition.

“Is that my shirt?”

Jemma turns to face him. No doubt, it is his shirt: his mum had bought it for him before he left for theAcademy. Five years later, it’s slightly too snug for him, but he’s not yetgiven up on wearing it.

“What?” Jemma shouts over the music.

“Is that my shirt?” he yells back.

“Fitz, I can’t hear—”

“That’s my shirt!” he bellows, pointing to the dark greenbutton-up with its adorable little elephant pattern. “Give it back!”

“Fitz, I can’t—” Jemma sighs dramatically and grabs hishand. “Come on.”

She guides him through the press of people, her finger,slightly wet and cold from the ice, an anchor amidst the writhing bodies. Sheunlocks her bedroom door – this may be the first house party they’ve thrown butthey’ve attended enough to know to lock everything but the bathroom – and dragshim in with her.

“I can’t decide whether to be peeved at the volume ordelighted that we’ve orchestrated such a smash success,” she chortles as shelocks the door behind her again. “Now, what were you attempting to convey backthere?”

“That’s my shirt,” he repeats, gesturing to it once more,but the ferocity has gone out of his voice. Under the fairy lights Jemma’sstrung around her room, he can see that not only has she nicked one of hisshirts, but she’s also got on one of his ties, a skinny grey one that encirclesher neck and disappears into the dip of the shirt.

“What’s the problem? You don’t like it on me?” Jemma frownsdown at the shirt then up at him, all innocent concern.

Of course, he can’t be honest about why he doesn’t like herwearing his shirt. He doesn’t like it because he likes it a bit too much, because it contours her insuch different ways from him, because seeing his clothes pressed to her bodythat way makes him imagine his hands, his lips, his chest being pressed to herthe same way.

“You’ll stretch it,” he falters, which isn’t even a goodexcuse because it’s too tight for him and a bit of a stretch would make it fitbetter. Not that he’ll ever be able to wear it again without imagining the wayher breasts fill it out… “Give it back.”

Jemma’s lips twitch and she looks at him with a funnyexpression. “You want it back?”

“That’s bloody right, I do.”

Jemma lifts her chin and holds his gaze. “Then you’ll haveto take it off me.”

It’s a gamble, Jemma knows. If she has misread his interestand arousal, either today or three weeks ago, this could be very uncomfortable.Three weeks ago she’d emerged wearing one of his jumpers over leggings and he’dgone all red and stammered and averted his eyes, though she caught him takinglittle peeks with his mouth slightly open throughout the morning. Thatfascinating evidence had been the impetus for tonight’s little get-up, and thusfar Fitz is responding brilliantly. It could go very badly. He might not be atall interested in her. But, she hopes, it could also be the confrontation theyneed to overcome the taut electricity between them.

“Wh-what?” he chokes, watching her with wide eyes. His curlsare lit from behind by the fairy lights and he looks positively angelic. Jemmafeels a bit guilty for wanting to debauch him.

“You heard me,” she says, voice low. “I like this shirt. I likewearing it. I don’t want to give it back. You’ll have to take it off me if you wantit.”

They stare at each other in the half-lit bedroom, theirsilence juxtaposed with the throbbing bass from the next room.

Fitz sucks his lower lip in, processing, thinking.

The longer he takes, the more the coil of desire in herstomach is turning to nerves. She’s about to buckle, to laugh and tell him she’skidding, to rush in embarrassment to her closet and change, when Fitz takes astep forward.

“Is that so?” he murmurs. Jemma shivers at the gravellyquality of his voice. She can only nod jerkily in reply.

He walks slowly towards her, never breaking her gaze. Shecan see he’s terrified – as terrified as she is, at least – but he keeps coming,and she can see his the bulge of his throat bob several times as he swallows. Ifhe’s not aroused, Jemma will return her biology PhD and hang up her lab coat.

He stops when his chest touches the button at the broadestpoint of her breasts. If she breathes deeply, she’ll press herself against hima bit more. She’s wearing flats so he has to look up at him, at his smooth faceso close to hers, at his long lashes brushing his cheeks as he blinks down ather.

“Well?” she manages to whisper, delighting in the way heinhales as her breath hits his chin. “Are you going to do something about it?”

His hands hover at the top button before he seems toreconsider. Instead, he starts at the bottom, fingers close to the clasp of hertrousers, exposing her stomach first. He squeezes each button through its holeachingly slowly, never looking away from her eyes. The first touch of the airon her skin makes her gasp and Fitz rocks forward, seemingly drawn to thesound.

He’s frustratingly careful to not actually touch her. Shecan feel the pressure of his fingertips through the shirt, but the instant thebutton is out, he moves to the next one, never lingering on her skin.

At the last button, the shirt flutters open, revealing thetie and just a bit of each cup of her bra. She follows his gaze downward,imagining the heat of his eyes on her body, then shrugs, rolling her shouldersto accent her chest and send the shirt down to her wrists.

Fitz opens his mouth, whether involuntarily or to try to saysomething, but Jemma’s not done. Keeping the shirt slung between her wrists soshe’s partially bound, she raises her arms up and over Fitz’s shoulders,bringing the shirt down behind his back. It’s the yawn and stretch at thecinema on a much more pornographic level. Now, her arms around him, she worksthe shirt slowly off her wrists, letting it flutter to the ground and settlingher hands on his lower back, just above his arse.

“There,” she breathes, jutting her chin challengingly up athim, “it’s off.”

Fitz’s chest is heaving faster than the rhythm of the music outside.He catches the end of her tie and rolls it between his fingers. “You know,” hemurmurs, tugging on the fabric a bit, drawing Jemma even closer in therapidly-vanishing few inches between them, “I think this is mine too.”

This time he breaks the touch boundary. He releases the tipof the tie and follows its length up her body, holding the fabric in his hand, hisforefinger brushing against her stomach and sending a ripple of convulsingpleasure through her abdomen. When he reaches the top, he holds her firmly –gently, still, but with confidence – by the back of the neck and undoes hercareful knot with his free hand. Once the tie is open, he slides it around herneck, the silk gliding over her shoulder and collarbone and chest.

The tie slithers to the ground, forgotten as quickly as theshirt that came before it.

For a moment, once the tie is gone, Fitz is at a loss forhow to proceed, their pretense for this intimacy finished. He finds himselffeeling naked, though Jemma is the one standing there in just her bra andtrousers. He wonders if he should just kiss her.

Jemma saves him – saves them both, saves the moment. Slidingher hands around from his back to his hips, she presses their lower bodiestogether and whispers, looking up at him very seriously, “I think this bramight be yours as well. Maybe you should take it off too.”

At that, Fitz can’t help himself: he bursts out laughing. Jemmalooks put out for a moment, as gaiety was clearly not the result she’d been anglingfor with her sexy come-ons, but then Fitz enfolds her in both arms and kissesher, lightheaded from delight.

#thefitzsimmonsnetwork #aosficnet2 #writing #fitzsimmons #agents of shield #jemma simmons #leo fitz #leopold fitz #fsfic #fs tag #ficlet #ask #anon #anonymous #answer

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back-and-totheleft · 3 years ago

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The Doors and JFK at 30

In the late 1980s and early ‘90s, few American filmmakers were as restless as Oliver Stone. He fired off seven movies from 1986 to 1991, each one a shotgun blast of confrontational ideas and virtuosic style. “Platoon” won four Oscars. “Wall Street” summed up an era of excess.

Stone was particularly busy in 1991. He started the year with “The Doors,” a psychedelic rise-and-fall biopic about the rocker Jim Morrison, played by Val Kilmer. He ended the year with “JFK,” a kaleidoscopic portrait of the hunt for truth in the wake of a national tragedy.

Thirty years later, “JFK” and “The Doors” remain fascinating artistic artifacts, brimming with the brash confidence of a director on a hot streak. They also X-ray some of the cultural fault lines that continue to divide the United States three decades later.

“JFK,” a three-hour epic featuring a stacked ensemble cast, both reflected and anticipated a country in thrall to conspiracy theories. “The Doors” dramatized the agony and ecstasy of the counterculture, revealing why the sex-and-drugs scene was seen as equal parts alluring and revolting.

The films parallel each other in striking ways. Stone, a veteran of the Vietnam War, was then Hollywood’s boldest chronicler of the 1960s, and both of his 1991 projects represent attempts to reckon with that decade’s knotty legacies. They blurred fact and fabrication, memory and myth.

In the eyes of many observers at the time, neither film was an unqualified success. “The Doors” drew mixed reviews and flailed at the box-office. “JFK” performed well on both fronts, but some historians and commentators assailed its fast-and-loose relationship with the factual record.

But in many respects, facts were beside the point.

‘Speculations’ and ‘nightmares’

In 1964, the Warren Commission concluded that President John F. Kennedy was killed by Lee Harvey Oswald and that Oswald had acted alone. Stone was far less convinced, and “JFK” was intended as his “counter-myth.”

Kevin Costner, nearing the apex of his star power and industry clout, stars as New Orleans District Attorney Jim Garrison, who investigated the events surrounding Kennedy’s assassination on Nov. 22, 1963.

Garrison’s crusade takes the viewer on a dizzying tour of midcentury American paranoia. He eyes a sprawling cast of potential culprits: the CIA, the Mafia, Cuban freedom fighters, the military-industrial complex — the shadowy men behind what Stone calls our “untold history.”

“The movie was misunderstood as advancing one particular conspiracy theory, when in fact it was exploring several,” said Matt Zoller Seitz, a veteran film critic and the author of a 2016 book about Stone’s career. “It gave the conspiracy mindset a bigger and more prestigious platform, and I think without ‘JFK’ you don’t get ‘The X-Files,’ for example.”

“JFK” is the near opposite of a by-the-books historical docudrama. The film is a lurid panorama of half-truths and speculation. Stone’s approach alienated some op-ed writers and commentators, who criticized the director months before the movie even premiered.

The columnist George Will huffed that Stone was “a man of technical skill, scant education and negligible conscience.” Walter Cronkite, the CBS newscaster who broke the news of Kennedy’s killing to the nation, reportedly decried the “mishmash of fabrications and paranoid fantasies.”

The film critic Roger Ebert offered up what might be the most salient interpretation, though, writing in a 2002 retrospective: “I have no opinion on the factual accuracy of ... ‘JFK.’ I don’t think that’s the point. This is not a film about the facts of the assassination, but about the feelings.”

“I have no doubt Cronkite was correct, from his point of view. But I am a film critic and my assignment is different than his. He wants facts. I want moods, tones, fears, imaginings, whims, speculations, nightmares,” Ebert wrote.

It is here where “JFK” still reverberates in the addled, deeply fractured America of 2021 — not as a literal account of events but as a collage of issues that still tug at the national fabric, justifiably or not: distrust of government, skepticism of institutions, conspiracy theories, rabbit holes.

“I look at ‘JFK’ now and I see Covid denialists who make it seem as if the virus was created by scientists out of ‘The X-Files,’ the same ones who are going to inject us with DNA from bees, or whatever,” Seitz said. “I think there was a genie that was let out of the bottle with that movie.”

“It is a deranged film when you stand back from it,” Seitz said with a laugh.

Nevertheless, many people around the world still doubt the official narrative of the Warren Commission report and hope more information comes to light.

Jay O. Sanders, a character actor who played Lou Ivon, one of the investigators on Garrison’s team, said in an interview earlier this year that, to this day, strangers still approach him on the street and ask him who he believes killed Kennedy.

“The moment we explored in the film was one of the most important moments to countless people in this country," Sanders said. "It was a loss of innocence. It was a loss of hope."

‘Doors’ to self-destruction

Stone is said to have been intoxicated by The Doors ever since he first heard their music while serving in Vietnam. “The Doors,” a hallucinatory and borderline campy biopic about the dark poet of Nixon-era rock-and-roll, was the director’s acid-kissed homage.

“The Doors” charts Morrison’s rise and vertiginous descent into alcoholism, drug abuse, live-concert antics, cruelty and general R-rated debauchery. It is a frequently unflattering character study — and one that was razzed for exaggerating the musician’s behavior.

“In a way, it feels like the movie Jim Morrison would’ve hallucinated as he was dying,” Seitz said. “There’s a lot of deliberately disorienting touches ... that make you feel like you’re on drugs.”

The film climaxes with a raucous concert in Miami. Kilmer’s Morrison antagonizes the audience, clashes with police officers and appears to expose himself onstage. He bellows what amounts to a personal manifesto and philosophical mission statement: “No limits! No laws!”

The movie is freewheeling but nonetheless adheres to the standard rock god biopic conventions, the stuff of the John C. Reilly parody flick “Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story.” It also functions as a sociopolitical Rorschach test.

You might be gripped by Stone’s reverential vision of Morrison (who died in 1971 at 27) as a counterculture prophet who urged his adoring fans to stop being “slaves” to the starchy American establishment.

But then again, you might see “The Doors” as a cautionary tale — wittingly or otherwise — about the excesses of the peace-and-love years, with Kilmer’s version of Morrison as a Dionysian narcissist who symbolized the destructiveness of heedless social rebellion.

Oliver Gruner, an academic at the University of Portsmouth in the U.K., explored these contradictions in his 2016 monograph “Screening the Sixties: Hollywood Cinema and the Politics of Memory,” a look at how the American film industry has dramatized the decade.

“Here was a film that on the one hand celebrates an individual associated with hippie lifestyles, but on the other seems vehemently skeptical of the counterculture,” Gruner wrote.

America in 2021 is still conflicted on what to make of that frenzied decade. “The Doors” is not a film about politics, yet the chaos at its core might help us understand why the norm-smashing spirit of the ‘60s split the country and riled soon-to-be-ascendant social conservatives.

In a mixed review for The New York Times, Janet Maslin offered this crisp description of Stone’s larger-than-life subject: “Nowhere did the best and worst of the '60s collide as messily as they did in Jim Morrison.”

But in the course of 141 minutes, she wrote, Stone is not entirely “successful in offering any final assessment of either the ‘60s or his hero than in bringing both back with strange and spectacular power.” The same might be said of “JFK,” a movie of urgent questions without clear-cut answers.

But maybe that was by design.

It has been said that America never got over the ‘60s. Stone seemed to intuit as much. How can you conclude a story that never really ended?

-Daniel Arkin, ‘JFK’ and ‘The Doors’ at 30: Why Oliver Stone’s portraits of the '60s still resonate," NBC News, Oct 2 2021 [x]

#nbc news #oliver stone #matt zoller seitz #the doors #jfk #anniversary

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travelonlinetipsofficial · 3 years ago

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What are the best things to do for free in New York?

New Post has been published on https://www.travelonlinetips.com/what-are-the-best-things-to-do-for-free-in-new-york/

What are the best things to do for free in New York?

Sure, you could–drop a bunch of coin to go to the top of the Empire State Building, eat at the fanciest restaurants or walk around on the grounds of the Statue of Liberty. But what if we told you that you could take a boat ride right past Lady Liberty without spending a dime? It’s a possibility and thousands of New Yorkers who ride the Staten Island Ferry do it every day.

New York is chock full of free gems like these ones, but to find them, the secret is connecting with a local who knows all the tricks. Luckily for you, we’re spilling our beans and dishing up the best free spots to enjoy in New York City.

From long, luxurious walks through the city’s parks, including the elevated High Line, to the weird, wacky and wonderful sights at Coney Island, this list curates the best of New York’s offerings into a tidy little package.–

So, no matter how small – or non-existent- your budget is, you’re still capable of having a great time in the Big Apple. Now, without further ado, allow us to present to you the 10Best list of New York City’s free things to do.–

Photo courtesy of Luna Park

Coney Island is home to New York’s alternative side. From the yearly mermaid parade to the nationally televised hot dog eating contest, this beachy outreach of the city feels a million miles away. If you can’t make it for an event (though you really should try!), you’ll still find plenty to do once you arrive. Take your chances on a ride at the amusement park, Luna Park, or if you’re able to drop a few bucks, gain admittance into the Coney Island Circus Sideshow. We won’t ruin the surprises but this freak show will have you scratching your head – or in some cases, hiding your eyes.

Recommended for Free Things to Do because: Coney Island is grimy, weird and unforgettable experience. For free.

Andrea’s expert tip: Check the schedule and try to go when an annual event, such as the summertime Mermaid Parade, is in full swing.

Read more about The High Line →

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#Destinations

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strangeremembrances · 7 years ago

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Is the film as good as the book Megan? 🙏

WORLDS COLLIDE! Hannah!

Oh god, this is a question. I have a free evening so you’re getting my full attention and I’m always in the mood to talk CMBYN and unleash my ridiculous love so here goes!

First off, I will try not to be spoilery…. BUT THIS IS HUGE AND I HAVE OFFICIALLY GONE INTO HEART EYES MODE BUT HERE IS MY OVERVIEW.

I have loved the novel for so many years that it holds such a special and important significant for me so that’s difficult to compare anything to. I was 19 when I first read the novel and I’m nearly 29 now so that’s nearly 10 years of adoration….

That’s why I was terribly nervous when I heard they were making a movie. That kind of changed when I saw Armie’s instagram wayyyyyyyy back when in January 2017 around the same time as Sundance and he tagged it #billowyblueshirt - I pretty much lost my mind!!! I mean, THAT IS OLIVER. That’s how I pictured him (minus baby Harper of course!). He was a little younger looking in my head but Armie looked SO MUCH like the Oliver in my mind.

And then this came out:

youtube

I was so stunned because I didn’t really know much about Timmy. I recognised him from Homeland but that was it and yet, he looked like Elio. Again - I had the same response! He looked like the Elio I’d imagined in my head and that tiny clip made me so excited. It still didn’t stop me from being nervous as you can’t get much from a little clip but by the time the main trailer came out, I was BEYOND excited because so much of what I’d imagined was in front of me and so close to how I’d always pictured in my mind. Plus, the shots were so pretty and almost art house that it didn’t feel like they’d cheapened it or gone for the obvious adaption they so easily could have.

The trailer I first saw was this one:

youtube

I swear to you, the moment I saw the part where Elio says “listen, when the time comes, this is how he’ll say goodbye to us…Later”, I stopped being nervous. Completely. That scene still kills me.

I desperately tried to get tickets to the BFI screenings but they sold out so I could only see the movie opening night in the UK on 27 October but it was one of my favourite and one of the most memorable cinema experiences I’ve ever had, second to possibly seeing Titanic when I was a kid.

Yes, there are parts of the book that I wish were in there that sadly didn’t make the cut. I made a post about that ages ago. I have a tag on here that has all my ramblings under (HERE!) but I think I talked about that.

Does it have some flaws? Of course! There are a few editing moments that I thin would make non-novel readers unsure and some of the dialogue remains unexplained… unlike in the novel but I do wonder whether some of that is by choice to allow the viewers the ability to make up their own mind. I am definitely able to cast a critical eye but I am so fond of the movie as a whole and a novel!fan that I can’t help but be overly descriptive and gushy haha. It’s a marmite kind of thing for many and none of the characters are perfect in the book or movie but that’s what I love. They just happen to be fascinating and interesting to me.

SO NOW FOR THE RAMBLING……

The movie is different from the novel. There is about 1/3 of the novel in the movie. The entirety of Ghost Spots is gone. Most of San Clemente Syndrome is also gone. But yet the movie doesn’t suffer because of it. Luca has talked endlessly (and oh god i have wanted every single interview he’s done for this movie, I’m sure. I’m sure an admirer) about his decisions for the movie and one of the big ones is that he wanted the audience to grow with Elio. He didn’t want the novel’s reflective nature or the Proustian thing clouding the audience’s judgement of what was happening. He didn’t want voice overs or a narrator and, in my view, it is HANDS DOWN the best thing he did. You experience EVERY SINGLE MOMENT with Elio. From start to finish, you’re with him during his summer and you disappear. The movie is so immersive and beautiful for that, I’m so grateful to him.

PLEASE GO SEE THE MOVIE IN A CINEMA. That’s the best advice I can give. I hope it’s showing in the UK still where you are. Just take that time out and go see it. I can’t tell you how wonderful it is. From the second the credits start (and i swear, they’re some iconic bloody credits. The second I hear Hallelujah Junction *goosebumps*) it’s just the kind of movie that lifts you out of your life, drops you into Italy in the Summer and you spend every moment experiencing every second with these characters.

As for the comparison of the characters in the novel to those on screen. THIS IS WHERE I GET EMOTIONAL. Elio. Oh Elio Perlman is my sweetheart. The first time I read the book, I got him. He taught me so much about being brave. But novel!Elio is DRAMATIC as I’m sure you’re aware if you’ve read the book. He is hormonal and ridiculous and weird as hell. He’s so OTT and it the world’s most unreliable narrator so to play THAT right is just the most difficult task and it was what I was most frightened of. Let me tell you…. everything, EVERYTHING, that critics said about Timmy’s acting and his portrayal of Elio is spot on. It is one of my favourite piece of acting I’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing. All of those Elio thoughts and feelings in the novel, all the internalisation and the intense thoughts he has… getting that across is a TASK and you read them all on Timmy’s face. I can’t even list them. It’s every damn scene. Moments of note are the dinner table scene where Oliver doesn’t show up. I even made a post of this because it stunned me to much (HERE!). The scene in Mr P’s office when Oliver’s showing off about his apricot knowledge and novel readers know that Elio is already enamoured and thinking filthy thoughts…. it’s ALL THERE on Timmy’s face. I could go on and on and on about him and how he quite frankly blew my mind but the main thing I keep coming back to is that movie!Elio is a JOY. He is an absolute delight to behold. Novel!Elio is so intense and because you’re inside his mind, it’s difficult to see him the way the world does. Movie!Elio is so lovely. He’s every bit as intense and kind of difficult and bold and hormonal as novel!Elio but he’s also light and fun and playful and SWEET. He’s EXTREMELY SWEET. There are some tiny little moments that are so effervescent and make me smile so much because Elio sparkles on screen. He dances and shimmies and lazes about, he touches everything in sight, he climbs Oliver like a tree, he smiles and argues and fusses and swoons and is just PERFECTION. I’m not going to go on and on because I’d spoil stuff…. the ending thought. The very final 2 seconds of the movie are forever etched into my brain.

As for the movie itself. It’s blissful. The cinematography is breathtaking. You feel part of the home and the landscape and Luca’s heart is in every frame. It’s like a painting. The music is wonderful and fills every scene with nostalgia and this sense that the Perlman’s are effortlessly cultured. The editing AHHHHH. GOD. There are some editing choices that I could kiss Walter Fasano for. It has an arthouse feel (MY FAVOURITE), and is SO LONG. It’s a very long movie and that was the biggest treat. There are directorial choices that I want to cuddle Luca for, namely how certain scenes are framed - especially the nosebleed scene and the entire MIDNIGHT sequence. That sequence is long and drawn out but constructed with little details so beautifully.

The other characters are so RICH and I was devastated to let them go when the movie ended. Annella is so much more than in the novel and I adore her. Marzia is WONDERFUL. Mafalda is every bit as sassy and great as the novel even if her part is smaller. But the VP is Mr Perlman. Reading the novel, anyone will remember and feel moved by his speech to Elio about life and love and letting yourself experience life: good and bad. The movie version moves me to tears from start to finish, every single time I see it. Mr Perlman is a GIFT in this movie. Every single character was so real and warm and the family moments are some of my favourites from movie.

Finally, the chemistry. Everyone has chemistry with EVERYONE. Notably, Elio and his parents. The level of affection in this movie is off the charts. Everyone hugs and kisses and cuddles and touches and it’s the most refreshing thing. But obviously the chemistry everyone wants is between Oliver and Elio and it’s so natural and almost unstaged (especially the midnight scenes) that I was speechless. They are wonderful together. It’s so clear that Timmy and Armie became friends. They shot the movie chronologically and much of the way the movie developed and occurred was how Timmy and Armie met and became friends. Watch any interview… haha. They are special on screen together.

My absolute FAVOURITE thing though is how the movie is so thin on dialogue. Compared to most movies, it is sparce and treats the audience intelligently because so many of the BIG moments are simple and delivered through nuanced acting (specifically by Timmy and notable by Armie in the goodbye portion of the movie). There’s no exposition, very little emotional talk as it is SHOWN and that is hands down the reason this movie resonated with me so well because that’s what I wanted from an adaption of the book. I didn’t want Elio TELLING us, I wanted to see it. And you do. VERY WELL.

So yeah, ESSAY DONE. I could ramble on and on. I truly ADORE the movie. It is up there with my all time favourites and I said after seeing it for the first time, that gratitude is the overwhelming thing I felt when I walked out of the cinema and after I’d picked my broken heart up off the floor…. my feelings haven’t changed.

If Luca sticks by his intention on sequels to follow Elio’s life, well I’m on board. I’d have NEVER said that last year. I’d have never wanted anyone to touch the novel or expand on the novel for a second. But I trust Luca. I’m pretty much a bloody disciple at this point hahaha. I fell head over heels for these characters and I don’t want to never see them again - especially Elio. Once you’ve seen Timmy’s Elio, I’d defy anyone to NOT want more.

So, in summary. THE MOVIE IS MAGICAL. It is different from the novel in some areas, in some it brings to life the pivotal moments in the first portion of the novel and although it misses out some of my most cherished portions of the novel, in my view, the movies doesn’t suffer for it. I hold them both dear for different reasons and they compliment one another in the loveliest way!

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vermiculus-incipiens · 7 years ago

Photo

OOC INFORMATION:

What’s your name? Mah

Preferred pronouns: She/Her

Timezone: BRT

IC INFORMATION:

Character Name: Emmeline Violet Vance

What’s a hobby or pastime that your character enjoys? Emmeline’s favorite hobbie has always been drawing. Interestingly so, this is due to a great influence from her mother, Amelia, an spell inventor whose curiosity with muggles led to her involvement with some of the things they consider as hobbies. A few years before she was born, Amelia created a spell capable of bringing drawings to life in the form of illusions, something along the lines of 3D and Cinema; it quickly fades, though, as she has no muggle bases so far to improve the effects of the spell, and no interest in doing so. As a young girl, her mom would tell her stories in bed-time and sometimes use this spell to show characters from books almost as if they were alive. This fascinated Emmeline, who felt a lot more comfortable surrounded by these beings instead of real people (she’s always had anxiety near others). At the age of four her mother noticed this interest and found a way to bring her pencils and muggle-paper, hiding it quite safely in her room as they wouldn’t receive many visitors in that part of the house. Within the years her love for drawing surpassed talent, turning into something she does both for calming her anxiety and simply for there are no set expectations - the only thing she refrains from tracing are people, as she isn’t sure she’ll be able to capture them in a light that would make them justice. Even then, she still has some drawings of faces she prefers to keep hidden. Another hobbie of hers is music, which relates to the family. Even though they don’t have a deep contact with muggles, music has always filled the Vance’s house, since long before she was born and way longer anyone can remember. They are proficient in enchanting instruments to play whichever song, the same way both her parents and older brother show talent in one or more. Emmeline herself can play the violin and piano, the first a choice of her own and the second quite mandatory at home.

Do you have any preferred ships or anti-ships? I’ve always “secretly” shipped Emmeline with Mary. What truly fascinates about this character, however, is how much it’s unknown, which gives us players the power to write all kinds of different situations, including relationships, with her. I don’t have a preferred or anti-ship despite what’s stated at the beginning because what appeals the most to me is getting to know the characters and through that creating relationships based on chemistry (be it healthy or angst ones). So yeah, pretty open here!

What do you think your character’s Boggart would be? If their greatest fear isn’t something that could easily take a solid form, what is it? Why? Emmeline’s boggart takes the form of a number of people, one at a time, all pointing at her and saying out loud she’s both a failure and the reason why somebody - anyone - has died. They tell her she is unable to act in battle, inefficient on her job and a burden instead of an asset, as well as show their opinion of her as somebody not worth knowing or spending time with.

What’s your character’s biggest pet peeve? Emmeline’s biggest pet peeve is having her way barred by people who stop in the middle of a crowded path - as somebody who is very anxious when around others, especially in situations in which there are a number of people she has never met around, she flinches whenever somebody obliges her to stop and spend more time than the necessary in the middle of everybody, even if it’s just for a few seconds. Still extremely polite and afraid to speak her mind, all she can do is ask ‘please’ and ‘excuse me’, even though far from always she’s listened to.

What would you consider to be an eccentricity of your character? Emmeline tends to speak higher when she’s lying, which often call people’s attention instead of deviating it from her. She gets immediately nervous and fidgets constantly as well, often letting people know she’s not speaking the truth by then.

What is/was your character’s favorite subject in school? Why? A simple question indeed, Emmeline never faltered in answering Herbology. She’s shown a talent for the subject the minute they started studying it back at first year, and have always silently admired how much it can influence people’s lives without then even noticing. She is aware of the healing powers of plant, as well as of its effectiveness, even though another thought haunts her since a nightmare after a friend was mistanly poisoned by a higher-than-necessary dose of a medicine: the fact that plants can also be used as weapon. Of course, a subtle and less dramatic one, yet effective if needed. Despite that, the Hufflepuff prefers its normal and expected usage, which aligned with her wanting to heal and learning more about caretaking only turned her into someone possessing a knowledged in the area closer to expertise.

What time of day is your character’s favorite? What time of year? Emmeline’s favorite time of the year is the dawn. She’s realized how calming it is, and beautiful at the same time, with not many people awake yet late enough some could be if only she asked them to. It’s a balance, and it shows harmony - despite, of course, the beauty in the sky whenever the sun first show its traces. Her favorite time of the year has always been spring, more specifically around her brother’s birthday, as they keep a tradition of him taking her to magical forests and botanical gardens since she admires the plants and nature so much.

What’s your character’s Patronus? If they can’t conjure one, what would it be if they could? Why? Emmeline’s patronus is a beautiful, cute, small shrew. She’s very proud of it, no matter its small size - as it doesn’t matter at all - and her memories focus deeply in her family and the ones in which she is feeling the most comfortable and free (in a sense of having nothing to fear) with friends.

What is your character’s biggest vice (bad habit or immoral craving)? Not unexpectedly, Emmeline’s biggest vice comes from her own worries - often, relating to the many ways things could go wrong. Emmeline spends a concerning amount of time not evaluating situations and outcomes, but rather focusing on the negative impacts each action could have. She often forgets thinking positive is needed and, either when under pressure or when an outcome might have a negative influence for her or others, ends up creating a number of scenarios in her mind that could easily erase the closest possible to reality.

What is your character’s diet like? What’s his or her favorite food? Emmeline’s diet is pretty normal, as somebody who is not too concerned about health, but aware of it. She eats what she thinks is necessary, trying not to eat too much or too less. Even when she’s worried, it doesn’t reverberate to any bad eating habit. Furthermore, her favorite food is a cake her grandmother used to bake any time she went to their house, and she keeps the recipe, often doing it herself and sharing with her family and friends.

How do you think your character’s psychological issues have manifested and changed your character up to this point? I believe Emmeline’s issues have molded her into a great part of who she is today. It’s always been hard for her to separate herself from anxiety and have a good notion of reality, which means within time she turned more and more into somebody afraid of acting and speaking her mind. She much prefers to stick to the background and do what’s expected of her without never letting people hold too much expectations, as she is afraid of not meeting them, and even at Hogwarts she never made too much of an effort at school because of that; even if she had potential, she had watched as her brother went from a brilliant first year student to somebody great at some subjects but moderated in others at the last ones, and how his parents weren’t as proud as they could be. On the other hand, Emmeline doesn’t realize she acts with brilliancy in things she actually is brilliant, like healing for example - even when people point it out and say she’s doing great without much of an effort, she is quick to deny and doesn’t realize they’re telling the truth, rather thinking there are many better than her at both the necessary actions of wizard’s medicine and dealing with patients. For this reason, back at her teenage years, some people even told her what she had was false modesty, but this couldn’t be further from the truth; her anxiety and low self-esteem have always prevented her from seeing herself in the light of reality. These traits have also greatly molded her role in the war. Mildly good with duelling spells and not at all focused or confident enough to be great at it like those who get out of Hogwarts to become aurors, she’s never been interested in fighting like they do. Which is to say, even when needed, her anxiety gets the best of her even when she has to fight and there’s no way of running - panic attacks are common since she was a fifth year and a girl tried picking up a fight after Emmeline whispered back words of repulse when this girl showed prejudice to a friend of hers. She learned to keep quiet since then, and understand she’s better with her hands and mind at healing than in actually acting brave like most people expect of warriors. The saddest thing is Emmeline doesn’t see her own value, sometimes wishing she wouldn’t carry herself wish such cowardice.

Give us a headcanon for your character. Anything is acceptable. I have this headcanon for Emmeline that she’s pretty unaware of her own talents, which are often useless in a war yet a source of light and happiness. Despite her skills with drawing and playing instruments, she’s pretty great with both singing and dancing, even though she doesn’t practice it in a proficient manner neither tries to improve; it’s just something that comes naturally, and more often than not her friends request a song or a dance as a way to keep their heads off of the war.

#Closed Character #Accepted #VIAccepted #Emmeline Vance

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matildaedwards · 5 years ago

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To what extent is the director the auteur of your two Hollywood film?

In this essay, I will attempt to explain the Auteur Theory, in relations to renowned Hollywood film director Alfred Hitchcock and well-known British director Ridley Scott. I will discuss the works of Vertigo and Bladerunner and outline the ideas held by the theory. The auteur policy emerged from the film criticism of the French journal "Cahiers du Cinema" in the 1950s. The theory explains that the director is the chief creator of a film and gives it an individual style that is noticeable in all aspects of the final product.

Hitchcock was known for dream sequences and a range of shots including dolly zooms, shot reverse shots and most frequently used, point of view shots. For example, during the first half of the film Vertigo (1957), detective John (Scottie) Ferguson is hired to follow Madeleine around San Fransisco and one of the key scenes for this specific example can be shown when Scottie is looking at Madeleine through a wall in a flower shop. Using the point of view shots emphasises the reoccurring theme of voyeurism, this forces the audience to spy on Madeleine suggesting that we, as the viewers, are as guilty of spying as Scottie is. This resulting in us feeling closer to both characters. The idea of voyeurism in Hitchcock's films originates from how Hitchcock was regularly known to "spy" or have an interest in his leading ladies, so it is commonly seen in his works. This supporting the ideology of Hitchcock as an auteur.

Secondly, one of Hitchcock's narrative techniques includes the concept of a "foolproof" murder. A single character or group of characters, in this case Elster, usually devises a complex method for committing the perfect murder; however, the protagonist finds a clue unnoticed by the murderers which lead to them being found out. In Vertigo, Elster hires an actress (Judy) to pretend to be his wife Madeleine in order to make it seem like she went crazy and committed suicide. This then leads to Scottie becoming intensely obsessed with Judy when he then finds Judy wearing a necklace worn by Madeleine. The solving of the crime occurs simultaneously with the unmasking of the mistaken identity. By creating this complicated yet effective murder it makes the audience feel as confused as Scottie is when he finds out the truth however also leaves the audience feeling satisfied as they knew the truth before Scottie did. This idea also occurs in other Hitchcock films such as Psycho (1960), Rope (1951) and Strangers on a Train (1951). Although with this specific example it is debatable as to whether Hitchcock is an auteur or not as it is going against the viewers' expectations, therefore, making auteurism questionable.

Lastly, on Hitchcock, he explores the social aspects of beauty in most of his films using his leading ladies. Some of these themes include obsession, attraction and male desire. This can be shown with Judy’s full transformation as Scottie becomes obsessed with making Judy become his ideal woman, Madeleine which again highlights the importance of beauty as Scottie wasn't interested in Judy until she was completely changed into Madeleine. The idea of blonde women also relates to his personal desires with his leading ladies, as said before. He also uses technical features that enhance her beauty; when Judy is revealed the fog and illuminating green lights make Judy look ghostly as if she was the ghost of Madeleine, again showing that Judy’s beauty wasn't enough.

Next, I will be discussing the works of Ridley Scott and how debatable his auteurship is in his films, one in particular, Bladerunner (1982). Many of Scott's films are based around a heroes adventure and finding something, for Bladerunner it’s tracking down and killing the replicants. Another huge factor is the father and son relationships, this is shown between Roy and Tyrell as Tyrell is his creator; Roy kisses him before murdering him showing the son-like affection for his "father" leading to his death as though saying thank you for his production. Viewing the scene we can see that when Roy is talking to Tyrell it is a high angled shot to accentuate Roys power over him as if he is taking back the control Tyrell took from him.

Scott's style can be identified greatly by the use of mise-en-scene. He is massively known for his dystopian futures made to fascinate the audience, he often uses low lighting, smoke and rain to create a more dull looking atmosphere to make his futures seem as bleak as possible this creating a sense of mystery. This is shown all throughout the film, especially with his classic establishing shots with extreme flashes of light and gigantic billboards. This can also be shown in one of Scott's later films, Alien (1979) with the first panning establishing shot of the spaceship as there is a very intense contrast between the highlights and the shadows. This helps make it look more unrealistic and dramatic helping the audience feel like they are in a new world. The two similarities between the films show Scott as an auteur as his themes could be easily recognizable.

In conclusion, I would say that both Scott and Hitchcock display an extensive amount of evidence that supports Sarris's auteur theory. One would say that they both directors show examples of technical suitability, personal style and narrative ideas. Vertigo explores Hitchcock's themes of voyeurism and objectification of women whereas Bladerunner shows the use of mise-en-scene, strong female characters and father-son relationships.

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stunudo · 8 years ago

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Rookie Mistakes

A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction

Featuring: Spencer Reid x Reader (eventual)

A/N: This is my first time writing imagines and sharing them. Please be kind. I wanted the reader to be able to fit into the story instead of creating a new character, but I did add some background details. Thank you for your read!! Enjoy the fluff, forgive the formatting issues. I do not own the characters. xoxo Stu

Setting: Season 9

Rating: T

“You know, Y/N, considering the amount of hands that office supplies pass through on their way to the round table, I doubt you want to keep chewing on pens as a concentration technique.” Spencer Reid chimed in on your temporary moment of distraction.

You turned in your chair, looking your co-worker in the eye and made an immature gagging mime at him. Dr. Spencer Reid was the smartest member of the FBI’s BAU, but he did not have the best grasp on when his knowledge was welcome. His big eyes bulged at your surprising, yet comical retort. He puckered his lips and turned back toward his own desk.

You had been on the team for two months and it was everything you had hoped and feared it would be; awful hours, lots of evil people and not always happy endings for the victims’ families. But you were now working with some of the FBI’s greatest assets and taking down unsubs with the highest rated team since its inception. Reports took hours, so that meant you had two more cups of coffee to go before your day was done. You tossed your chewed-on pen on top of the folders on your desk and slid back. You headed to your favorite place inside the BAU, the tech shrine that is Penelope Garcia’s office.

You knock as you strolled in and hug Garcia from behind in a mopey, tired manner. “Oh Sugarplum, “Garcia exclaimed,” what happened?!” “Nothing, Penny, just tired and needed to be real.” You slouched in the extra chair and watched Garcia work. She was fascinating and so nice. She made this work bearable. “Remind me, what happens if I kill a coworker?” You ask hypothetically, “that would be automatic termination, right?”

Penelope spun in dramatic fake shock, “Um, Y/N, do I need a gun or a hostage negotiator right now?”

“Garcia, girl, no. I would never. It’s just, Reid, you know? He is so smart and an amazing agent, but really?! How can he have all this knowledge and not realize when to put a sock in it, you know?” You ranted.

Garcia nodded and listened to your complaints, watching your arms flop. She smiled at you and sighed. “Uh yeah, Reid is a bit much. But if you are planning on being on this team. You are going to have to get past it. He is O.G., okay, not like Rossi O.G., but seriously the kid has been here longer than me!”

You considered the professional implications of not getting over this rut. You had worked hard for years to get here and were not going to give in now. “Gracias, girl, thanks and, um, don’t tell Derek? I will figure it out before I need any extra insight, deal?”

“Eh, I can’t hide anything from my Boo. But I will hold out through the weekend, maybe, if I can. Deal?” Penelope smiled reassuringly.

You nod and shake your head, returning to the bullpen. You found Reid doing his mesmerizing speed reading at his desk. His mop of curls falling around his face, his long fingers scrolling from page to page like a conductor moving a symphony in rhythm. You observed your coworker as you would watch someone awaiting interrogation; quietly and calculating. You knew Hotch was watching you stare, you also knew he would not say anything unless a problem arose between you and the tall genius. One more reason you loved being on this team, you had the best boss in the world. You caught Hotch’s eye as he headed out the door, you nodded your goodnight.

Meanwhile, Reid read on. You sighed dramatically, plopping yourself down into your desk chair and slid across the aisle, right into Reid’s little reading bubble.

“What are you doing?!” Reid exclaimed. He practically stood while hugging his book to his chest. You remained sitting and looked up at the agitated man. You knew you got under his skin, by using proximity to unnerve him. So you slowly wheeled closer, putting your face near to touching his chest. You glanced up and smiled, “Doctor, what are you doing tonight?”.

Reid slid out between you and his desk with quick, lithe movements, leaving his book atop the desk. He quickly looked around the room and then tilted his head and looked at you, clearing his throat. “Y/N, you can call me Spencer, or Reid if you prefer, being such a serious agent. May I inquire into your sudden interest with my leisure activities?” Reid slipped his hands into his pockets as the blush left his face, he was now a safe ten feet from you.

“Okay, Reid, I realized that I have not had any 1-on-1 time with you since joining the team. Even in the field Hotch pairs me with Rossi or JJ. I want to be an effective member of this team. In order to do that, I need to build rapport with everyone on it. Even you… who I do not quite like, at the moment.” You wheeled your chair back to your side of the aisle, but continued to face the now intrigued Reid. “So, you want to get to know me? Someone, you don’t like, for your job?” Reid nodded, “Well, I was going to a French Avant Gard Cinema night, but that doesn’t start until 11 o’clock.”

You were not surprised, though French was not a language you had known him to know. You calmly tuck your legs beneath you to sit in meditation pose upon the office chair. You spend hours practicing yoga and meditating, this is a default position. Spencer’s eyes follow your legs, but you didn’t register it. You are considering your evening plans of more work and debate asking to tag along with the good Doctor instead.

“What are the odds that we will get called on a case this weekend?” You ask intentionally because asking Dr. Reid anything rhetorically is useless. “Over the past ten years, the BAU has been called into the field on weekends, or have cases stretch into weekends a total of 263 times. So only slightly more than a 50% chance.” He did not disappoint.

“Alright, Reid,” you clear your throat,” but I do love calling you Doctor, for reasons that are entirely unprofessional. Would you mind some company?”

Spencer watches you for a moment, “Y/N, you don’t speak French.”

“How do you know that?” You cross your arms over your chest, challenging him to admit his inner knowledge of your life.

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N born Y/B/D attended University of Wisconsin at Madison, majored in psychology and legal studies. You attended Georgetown for your Masters while beginning your vetting process for Quantico. You have extended family from Central America, therefore you are comfortable with Spanish. But as far as I have read, you have no experience with French on paper or in the field.” Spencer rambled off your file while whittling your life down to degrees and family. He was not wrong, just missing a piece.

“Vous etes un imbecile, docteur.”

Spencer’s eyes widened.

“My parents hosted and exchange student, while I was in high school, from Belgium. What kind of host sister would I be if I did not learn his mother tongue?” “Touche,” the thin man conceded. “Oh, and Doctor?” You pointed your finger at him seriously. “I am driving.”

You would never look at him the same way again. The mini film festival was more Avant Garde than you anticipated. Reid was thoroughly enthralled with the show and you found yourself thoroughly enthralled with his reactions. It wasn’t until the second feature that you dozed off. You were exhausted and it had been one hell of a week. You came to when the lights came up between shows. You were warm and comfortable, smelling something like old books, coffee and soap. You slowly opened your eyes, realizing that your hair was plastered to your face with the puddle of drool you had left there during the last half of the film.

“Shoot me now,” you thought. Dr. Spencer Reid was watching you. You realized all too late the reason you were so comfortable was that he had draped his P-coat around you as you slept. You quickly shrugged it over to him, mumbling an embarrassed, “Thanks.” Just as you stood to stretch, both of your phones buzzed. He gave you a knowing look and a small toothless smirk. “The odds were against a weekend off after all, Doctor.” You reached for your coworker’s spindly hand to haul him out of his seat, leading you both back to Quantico.

“Garcia,” Hotch spoke to the face on the monitor, “Who will we be meeting at Mitchell airport?”

“Detective Hansen will be meeting the team at the airport and will take you downtown to the hotel,” Garcia replied. “The kid is the rookie assistant to the lead on the case, Andrews. You will meet him bright and surly tomorrow at the precinct.”

“Sounds good, thank you.” Hotch nodded.

“Nighty night, my lovelies,” Garcia saluted and the window closed on the screen.

You carefully made your way to the open row of seats closest to the bathroom. As the new agent on the team, you got the most trafficked sleeping quarters. Everyone on the jet was still half asleep, except Hotch. Honestly, the boss man never seemed like he was tired. The quiet din of the engine had become your new white noise machine, you fell asleep before the lights were dimmed.

“I know, man, but how was it that you and Y/N roll up at two thirty in the morning, in her ride?!” Morgan was harassing Reid about the night you had shared, his deep voice crossing the jet’s length in waves. You did not want to wake up, so you kept your eyes closed.

“I was attending an all-night film festival and Y/N asked if I wanted company, Morgan, that is how.” Reid replied in a nearly inaudible whisper.

“What kind of film festival?” the louder agent inquired.

“French Avant garde, it was not the best representation of the genre, but I hadn’t seen the original Fantasmaghorie. It was a good open, but Y/N fell asleep during El Dorado.”

“Well, I knew Y/N had taste. Look at you Reid, a girl invites herself on one of your nights off, but falls asleep before it is over.” Morgan chuckled.

“Y/N has been putting in extra hours on reports all week. I should have told her to go home and get some sleep instead of a team building endeavor.” Spencer mused.

“Team building?” Morgan asked, “Wouldn’t that require the team to be present? And not just the two of you?!” He emphasized the last three words, making you roll in your faux sleep.

“Y/N said she needed to build some rapport with me,” Spencer sighed,”Well, because she does not like me at the moment.” His voice disappeared. You ached at the hurt you heard in his admission. You yearned to open your eyes and see the nonverbal cues Derek was getting from the brilliant man.

“Oh man, that is rough,“ Derek mumbled, his voice drifting. You were finding it harder to hear them as the pilots were bracing for landing. You gave up your façade and quietly opened your eyes. You couldn’t see Spencer’s delicate features, only the back of his now-mussed head. Derek had his chair reclined and a support pillow around his neck. He eyed you warily, you blinked, but held his gaze.

The hotel was a drop off, shower and refueling stop. The 24hr Starbucks in the lobby was going to be making extra tips this weekend. You bunked with JJ in the first room, Rossi and Derek shared the next. Putting Reid with Hotch at the end of the hall’s peach rug. JJ had been pretty quiet on the way here, she usually held herself in when the victims were children. Sadly, that was this case. She held a graceful strength that you admired. You might be leading the questioning this case, but JJ would nail the unsub to the wall.

At 0800, the team was clean, caffeinated and wheeling out of the parking lot; heading in three different directions. Hotch was taking you to the precinct to meet with Detective Andrews. Derek and JJ were headed to the last body dumpsite and Reid was with Rossi, further questioning the babysitter of the currently missing kid. You had been in the Brew city all of two hours and the BAU was in overdrive.

“With the unsub’s escalating timeline, we may be looking at a deadline or a de-evolution.” You suggested to your unit chief.

“True, but we won’t know if it is intentional until we complete the profile.” Hotch replied, “Andrews called us because the case was quiet for months and suddenly two bodies were discovered within a month. A secondary trigger seems more likely if this is a preferential offender.”

Five kids over three years and now suddenly three targets the past month. You reviewed the digital images of tiny bodies in blankets, signs of remorse, while Hotch drove into the underground garage of the precinct.

Rossi was driving to the in-home daycare where Kyle Mason went missing the day before. Spencer shifted in his seat as the folders balanced on his lap. He could smell your perfume on the neckline of his jacket, he absentmindedly played with the collar. Rossi hadn’t spoken with Reid about women in a long time, but he hadn’t wanted to push the kid. Now he knew he needed to. “So, Y/N likes foreign cinema too?” He prodded the younger man. In a team this close, gossip was easily passed and forgotten, but Reid was unique in never having anything to hide; usually.

“I am not entirely sure what she likes, Rossi. But she does understand the French language, which was a lesson for me last night.” Spencer answered, completely missing the double entendre that he left hanging. Rossi smiled to himself, amused at the innocence left in the world.

“What does the day care teacher have to share?” The older agent got back to business, as they entered the smaller streets of the Bayview neighborhood.

You had set up all the evidence boards at the small precinct. The map for geographic profile and the happy smiling faces in school pictures of the known victims. The last boy, 4-year-old, Kyle Mason stared back at you. He had crystal blue eyes and short dark hair. He was wearing a grey dinosaur button down shirt. You sighed, returning to drawing up the signature to help complete the profile for the team to present.

You texted Garcia a few emojis to lighten your mood. She sent you back a mime, a bottle of wine and a huge question mark. You replied with your favorite thumbs up GIF of the eleventh Doctor, followed immediately with a sassy faced Glee GIF to completely shut down this absurd line of questioning. It was taking a lot of perseverance to not throttle Spencer Reid. You were not trying to date him.

“You know I can’t call her, if you are texting her.” Morgan complained while he leaned on the evidence board. You let the seasoned agent observe your layout, hoping for some feedback before the rest of the team arrived. You pocketed your phone and waited.

“Y/N, this would be better under the unsub,” Derek took a sheet from the victimology charts and slid it to the next column.

‘Right, more relevant to mobility than victimology,” you replied.

“Otherwise, this is a great summary, Y/N.” Agent Morgan complimented.

“Thanks, Morgan.” You answered, trying to hide your pride in your first solo display.

“If the unsubs comfort area is so small, why has no seen anything?” Rossi queried. He had brought in a tray full of coffees. You had to stop yourself form hugging the veteran and managed to give him your most gracious face ever instead. “I think someone has, but with the amount of kids in the neighborhood and the schools being off for winter break, the routines are off for everyone right now.” You answered.

“Good point.”

Hotch and Reid had just walked in with Detective Andrews for questioning the missing kid’s parents. “That is why the daycare was so overwhelmed. Most of these kids are only there in the summer, when the kids can play outside. That many kids in a house all day would be exhausting chaos.”

“But who would be able to get a kid to come outside, when it is below freezing?” JJ asked.

“A friend.” You stated the obvious.

Everyone looked at you shocked. Another child luring case in the same town? This seemed too coincidental, but the targets were kids themselves, not mothers.

“Garcia, I need you to pull up the details on the last three victims,” Hotch already had her on speaker phone. “Were there any mutual friends between the boys?”

“I have already checked that, sir,” Garcia paused. “Kyle was only in school half days at a private school, Jason went to one public school, and Aidan to another. No sports teams overlapped. The parents didn’t work together.”

“What about Scouts organizations?” Rossi offered.

“Negative.” Garcia clicked away at her search.

“Okay, let us know when you find something.” Hotch had to hang up on the backbone of the team. “Let’s deliver the profile.”

Before you began, you noticed Spencer eyeing your geographic profile map. You didn’t even flinch when he moved some notes around. Taking a deep sigh, perhaps you weren’t going to kill him after all.

Garcia saved the day, no surprise there. She found the link, through facial recognition software: she found the boys had all been attendees in a Saturday morning woodworking promotion at Lowe’s. And a very creepy Lowe’s employee just happened to have brought his nephew along to those classes. So not only was the kid friends with the victims, but the unsub, one Brandon Davis, 34, had access to the boys’ contact information on the safety waiver forms. Spencer had noticed the wooden models in the various boys’ rooms first, but the amazing software was what proved his hypothesis.

Hotch was driving you and Reid to the Lowe’s where the unsub worked. While JJ, Rossi and Derek were heading to his residence, in search of the missing boy. The locals had the parking lot contained, but the massive box store had three exits plus a loading dock. The possibility of civilian casualty was too great; therefore, no sirens were used and a discreet entrance to capture the unsub. Hotch had found the floor manager and had him page the unsub to the breakroom. You and Spencer paced the lumber aisle waiting for the guy to show up.

“You know a lot of this wood is imported. Though Wisconsin still has a substantial logging industry of its own.” Reid noted.

“Yeah, tell that to all the closed paper mills up North. That will make you some friends.” You retorted bitterly.

“Of course, you would understand the losses in the forestry industry since you attended school here.” Spencer confirmed. “It wasn’t that the source had dried up, or the need gone away. It was that greed had beat the American worker.” He quoted an economics paper you wrote your junior year.

You were taken aback, speechless. This was even slightly touching that this esteemed colleague had bothered to consider your past. He looked at you sideways, gauging your reaction to his famous eidetic memory. But your eyes were focused past his long frame now, watching the unsub storm his way into the breakroom. You gestured from your eyes to the unsub. Reid lead the way to finish the trap that Hotch had set for Davis.

Suddenly, there was a loud shout and an explosion sent you and Spencer across the empty breakroom table. There was glass and plaster everywhere, the pain in your ears was excruciating, luckily you could move. Reid was half on top of you and half on a toppled chair. You couldn’t see his face and with the ringing in your ears make you doubt he could hear you. You tugged on his arm with no response.

Slowly, you sat up, and slid out from beneath his warm body. You hadn’t seen any movement from the manager’s office. It seemed like your life was trapped in stop motion flashes. The fire alarm had been activated and lights were flashing as the sprinklers pelted down on you.

“Y/N,” Spencer grunted slowly coming back to you. You held his wrist to check his pulse, not wanting to invade his space anymore, again, so soon. “Hotch?” he asked.

You nodded and scrambled away into the room that held your boss.

“Hotch!” You screamed, your throat coarse from the fear and the sediment in the air. There was no response. Your team’s voices were suddenly on the coms.

“Talk to me, Y/N.” Derek pleaded.

“Reid and I are conscious. Send medics to the breakroom. There was a minor explosion. I am looking for Hotch now.” You relay to the whole team. “Any visual on Kyle?” You remember there was more to the mission today.

“We have him,” JJ answered, “Alive.” You could hear the relief in the female agent’s voice.

“Well done guys,” You wiped a tear from across your cheek. You had needed that good news right now. There was a slight movement up ahead, a desk was being slid across the floor. You raised your Glock and called out, “Freeze, keep your hands where I can see them!”

The movement stopped. A stifled voice called out, “Y/L/N, there was a closet, I think Davis got away,” Hotch called. You turned to check where Reid was, he was staggering toward the fallen desk that hid where Hotch lay.

You barreled through the remaining debris, into the unhinged closet door, falling over the clearly dead store manager. Through the doorframe, you saw a crawl space following the length of the entire building. You double check behind you, no surprises. Your heart is racing, your ears are ringing and your adrenaline is through the roof. You whisper over the coms. “Suspect Davis fled on foot after the explosion. Believed to be in store skeleton walkways. Please send back up. Agent Y/L/N in pursuit.”

You weave in and out of the concrete and steel framework of the building. Your ears are clearing, but no sound has reached you. You have no idea where the unsub is. The unheated space is wet and icy in patches on the concrete floor. You shiver from the sprinkler remnants on your skin. Wisconsin winters were not something you had missed. You keep your head up, but move slower than you would like to be.

A chain rattles in the distance. ”Brandon Davis!” You bellow, gun raised, certain and clear headed. “Come out with your hands up!”

A rhythmic clanking noise began, a door opened suddenly and you see it, just ahead. A loading door is opening and Davis is driving one of the store’s forklifts. You repeat, “Brandon Davis! This is the FBI!”

“Park the vehicle and come out with your hands up!” Suddenly Reid is behind you and all of Milwaukee PD seems to be waiting on the other side of the service door. The spots blind the unsub. He holds up his hands, you get to make the arrest. Spencer’s face is bleeding and his clothes are a mess. He backs you up as you climb the forklift and cuff the predator.

“Okay, okay. But seriously, what were you guys doing when Davis was blowing up Hotch?!” Derek joked eyeing Spencer and you affectionately.

You were all in the waiting room. Hotch was being discharged, just a leg sprain with cuts and bruises on the side. Everyone had inquired about his ears, but his hearing appeared to be no worse than usual. Hotch was the agent that just kept going. Reid picked at the bandage on the left side of this face. You were sad that this was your first time in the field alone and he had gotten hurt. No one had seen it coming, but a hardware store would contain many variations of ingredients for cheap explosives. Davis had been ready for anything. You blamed yourself, but you knew Spencer was more logical than you were. The way he thoughtfully looked at you now, told you he wasn’t upset.

You realized that the team was still waiting for you to answer Derek and here you were staring into a different pair of brown eyes. “Discussing 21st century Rustbelt economics,” you finally answered.

Rossi shook his head and patted you on the back. “You know, kid, if it were anyone else giving me that line, I wouldn’t believe them. But with you two, that is the only explanation.”

Everyone laughed.

“I do have a question,” Spencer began, “What would one do in Wisconsin on a Sunday night?” His brown eyes teasing, the other members of the team wouldn’t remember your alma mater was here. Let alone the one thing you did miss about Wisconsin winters…

Thirty minutes later, the BAU was crammed into the closest bar, watching Sunday Night Football starring the world famous Green Bay Packers. Luckily, for Morgan, they were not playing the Bears that night. You would hate to see a grown man cry from such devastation, after all.

JJ approached you with another cold beer, “You know,” she sat down next to you. “Spence took me to a Redskins game once.” This revelation floored you, you just shook your head in amazement. “He was gifted the tickets and had absolutely no interest in the game.” JJ chuckled at the memory.

“I can imagine, JJ. But, um, why are you telling me this?” You asked staring at the blonde’s concerned face.

“Because, it is a big deal that he figured out that you like football. It’s not something that has come up in the field. Look, Y/N, the Redskins game was eight years ago. Way before Will, and well, of course before Maeve.” JJ paused, seeing if where she was headed had sunk in yet. The name Maeve was only spoken with quiet reverence amongst the team. Garcia had filled you in early on, as no one would dare to talk about her in front of Reid. Frankly, you were too new to even think about asking more questions about them. That she was coming up, was a bit much for the fun filled evening you had anticipated.

“Okay, whoa. Let’s back up.” You made a time out and a reversal signal at JJ, drunk you even talked with your hands. “I am honored, Reid thought about me while we were still in town. But today was possibly the first day I didn’t want to suffocate his geeky ass since joining the team. The fact that we both could have died, might be the saving grace here. I am not trying to make any moves here. I am just trying to get along with the whole team.”

JJ watched your over dramatic explanation, hiding a smile. “Okay, Y/N, I hear you.”

“Yeah, we all hear you!” Barged in a slightly drunk Morgan. “We could just profile you and leave it obvious to everyone in the bar.” You playfully punched him in his meaty shoulder, which you instantly regretted. He laughed at you. Then you glance down the bar, Reid is drawing plays on a napkin and talking at length to an old trucker who is very kindly listening to the doctor’s sound strategies. The pen in his long fingers distracts you, it has been chewed on.

You gulp down your pint of beer, thinking maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all you had been through with the case. You make your way outside to call Garcia, despite the biting chill in the air. You hate that she isn’t here with the team, celebrating her victory.

“Sugar, I am in need of beauty sleep!” Penelope mumbles on the other end. You picture her in her ridiculous sleep mask and silken pajamas; you smile in spite of your panic attack in progress.

“Penny, I think he has my pen.” You start to cry and even you, a professional profiler, don’t understand why.

“Okay, love, but is this really worth crying about? Or is this the type of drunk you are?” Garcia asked curiously, “No, not a sad girl drunk, not you!” She teased.

“Stop it!” You begged. “Spencer has my pen from when he pissed me off the night before we left.”

“Okay… but since when do you call him Spencer?” Garcia was too good at this.

“Stop profiling me! I am scared. Alright? I can’t be the one to come after her, Garcia, I can’t live up to that!” You gasped at your realization. You were scared and that wasn’t the worst of it. You knew Hotch would kick you off the team if you did anything to mess with Reid, because that would truly hurt the team.

“Honey, honey, no one is asking you to! I mean have you even talked to Reid?” Garcia’s insight steering you straight yet again.

“No, just JJ. And Morgan, but I am never sure when he means what he teases.” You sniffled.

“Do you like Spencer, Y/N?” She just said it, clear as day.

You shook your head and pulled your coat tighter against the cold night. A loud chorus erupted from the bar, signaling a touchdown for Green Bay.

“Probably,” was all you could muster. You thought about sleeping in his coat, how warm and safe his scent made you feel. How his quirks made you watch others more closely, making you a better agent. You thought about delicate fingers and his ridiculous Halloween costumes. He was brilliant and somehow surpassed all the guys you had loved before and couldn’t have because of your insecurities. How had you not seen how you had been so closed off to the possibility?

“Oh, my God, Penny. What am I going to do?” You beseeched your closest friend, “I care about the Doctor!”

A slight gasp came from somewhere near the bar’s entrance. You could not turn around. You would not. Garcia was cheering on the other end of the phone and you were frozen in place. Slowly you turned on the spot, forcing this tense moment to end.

Spencer Reid was staring at you from about eight feet away. His breath coming in small puffs of steam. His dark P-coat making him look like more of a Burberry Ad than a renowned scholar. You unceremoniously hung up on Garcia. She would find out about whatever was about to happen, eventually. You stood, shivering and scared watching your coworker watch you. Where was an unsub with explosives now? Why couldn’t you clear your head to make a complete thought come out of your mouth?

“The game is over, your guys won it.” Spencer spoke first, clearly his sports lingo off a little. You smiled, finally exhaling.

“Good, JJ owes me twenty bucks.” You replied, without looking away from his squinting concern. You took a few steps forward and decided it was now or never, all or nothing.

“So, Doctor,” emphasizing the nickname, knowing he wouldn’t be able to deny what he had heard now, “Did you have a good time in the dairy state?”

“Yes, though, of course, technically California produces far more milk than Wisconsin does. Y/N, you know how I love dairy.” Spencer smiled at you, his hands hidden in his pockets, shaking. “I’m the reason we haven’t worked together in the field more.”

That was not where you thought this conversation was headed. “What do you mean?”

“I asked Hotch for some space from you, after Albuquerque.” He was using his very matter-of-fact voice, though the tone usually provided much more information with it.

“But, why?”

“Because you make me uncomfortable.” Spencer declared “And I know sometimes you do it on purpose; just to watch me squirm.”

You panic in an entirely new way.

“I am so sorry, I didn’t know I affected you so much!” Your voice was catching in your throat. You had already been drunk crying and now you were being told that you made someone you care about feel awful for at least the past twenty-three days. You continued forward towards the bar’s entrance which was letting a steady flow of post-game fans out. But you had to walk passed him, your heart now destroyed. You moved as if cement was strapped to your boots. You made it passed this tall, infuriating, sweet man and were almost inside, but curiosity stopped you.

“If I make you so uncomfortable, why did you take my germ-infested pen?” You nearly spat the words at him. You felt like an open wound: unstable, oozing and vulnerable to further damage. You spun around and to find that he had followed you. Suddenly he was in front of you, all six feet and curly hair of him was now inside your bubble. His hand had found its way to your elbow, gently holding you, not pressing. You stared up at him, challenging him. His mouth twitched and his eyes refocused on your furrowed brow.

“It had rolled off your desk the other night. I couldn’t just set it back on your files with the floor all over it too. So, I went to wash it off and in the process I may have overheard you talking to Garcia about becoming a workplace shooter.” Spencer sighed, was he embarrassed? You were the one who was being a jerk that night.

“And you ended up pocketing the pen as you went back to your desk… I am an ass, Spencer, I am so sorry.” You plead at him, gripping his jacket sleeve for support.

“Hardly, Y/N, but I think you need to be more honest with yourself. Especially about me, it would make everyone more comfortable around us both.”

Spencer’s eyes were kind and in this moment you remembered that this angel faced man is actually older than you. His social awkwardness did not make him immature, it is was what makes him Spencer, your Doctor. You have been the one being immature this entire case.

“Oh, God, they all know. Don’t they?” You lean into Spencer and grab the buttoned opening to his jacket.

“Know what, Y/N?” He looks down at you, slightly amused.

You draw in a deep breath and look directly into those inquisitive eyes, knowing this moment could change your life forever.

“The team knows that I, Agent Y/L/N, am attracted and emotionally tied to you, Doctor Spencer Reid,” you say it, clearly, calmly and honestly. Your heart is racing, the air between you two is full of clouded breathes and clarity. He smiles, not his typical smile, but a wide glowing grin. His warm hand reaches up to your face and gently brushes your hair behind your ear. Your breath catches at the intimate gesture.

“Thank you, Y/N, for your honesty,” he leans down and whispers it in your ear. He rubs circles on your cheek with his thumb and suddenly you are undone. You leap on to your tiptoes and pull him towards you. Your mouths crash in clouds of warmth. His soft lips caress yours, you feel unstoppable. But was he always this tall? You worry about straining his neck or messing up his bandaged face and all too quickly break the kiss off, self-consciously. And wait. Because an honest declaration deserves an honest response. He didn’t back away or drop his long hand from your face. He pursed his lips and smiled gently down upon you. “I, Doctor Spencer Reid, really like you Y/N Y/L/N.”

You smile, no, you beam up at this amazing guy. Squeezing him in a tight embrace, you bury your face in the wool of his coat, drinking in his scent. His hands softly play with the strands of your hair.

A long cat-call whistle rips through the air around you, startled you both spin. And a chorus of hoots, hollers and applause fill the air. The BAU had been escorted out of the closing bar and into the brisk night air. Blushing you drag Spencer to the SUV that the only other sober agent, Hotch will be driving back to the jet.

Original Posted 2017

Updated/Edited 5/28/21

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer x reader #fluff #stu #fanfic #cm fanfiction #dr reid #bau #smart is the new sexy #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #Spencer Reid Fanfiction

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drjacquescoulardeau · 7 years ago

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CRUELTY, FROM HOLLYWOODERS TO EXTRATERRESTRIALS

From Hans Eisler and his “Hollywooder Lieberbuch” to Fritz Land and his “Metropolis,” there is only one step to jump to find ourselves in Geoff Nelder’s International Space Station invaded by Extraterrestrials on their way to conquer the world, and that is no entertainment, not even a film. Not even by Orson Welles adapted from H.G. Wells. Just some much entertainment for today’s audiences who want some blood and violence, vengeance and hatred, so that they can practice their empathy for as cheap a price as a ticket for the film and nearly nothing for a Kindle.

AMAZON PRIME – THE LAST TYCOON – SERIES 1 – 2017

The series is brilliantly produced, directed and acted. The smallest and lightest detail is perfect for final reception. Just as a series it is both dramatic and suspenseful. It deals with characters that are provided with depth and complexity, at times contradictions. And yet the subject of the series is grave and serious. We are dealing with Hollywood around 1936 when Hitler is arising in Germany and starting to open the concentration camps (Dachau is named). We are in the USA, and in Hollywood the debate about what we can say or show about Germany is raging. The Germans are heavily blackmailing American producers with the very dynamic cinema market in Germany.

That’s the first element. Some, like Monroe himself, have to hide their Jewishness by changing their names. The subjects dealing with Germany have to be absolutely apolitical. You can have the sound of the music but certainly not the sound of any protest in Germany or in the world against Hitler. There is a tremendous lack of courage among the people in the cinema industry at the time. This is a serious question that is pushed aside by many at the time.

The second dimension of the series is the hyper-realistic description of the ugly and often criminal atmosphere among the professionals of the cinema in Hollywood. They are ready to recuperate Fritz Lang, at least for a short while, as a Jewish and German refugee, but they are not ready to support any opposition to Hitler. And among them, we have family practices and professional practices that magnify the power of the bosses of the studios, then the power of the producers over all artistic professions, and then a dependency hierarchy with some who can block the system, like of course authors.

Then we have a professional environment made of rivalry, hatred, exploitation, ambition, ruthlessness, inequality and hypocrisy. They do one little good action to cover all their crimes and they show to the world a positive and beautiful façade that has nothing to do with their reality. They smile to photographers and they kill one another with daggers in the back all the time. And it is in this atmosphere that some beautiful films are produced and Oscars are won. And Oscars have their feet in blood, literally: the blood of assassinated people or people worn out and burnt out so much that they can only cut their wrists and take an overdose of opioids or whatever other drug they can put their fingers on and grab.

But the series is a real beauty and you will like it if you are not too sensitive to airsickness or vertigo. Be sure – and do not overlook the following fact – that the dead people on the screen correspond to dead people off the screen. Hollywood is not ethical and has no morality. It is all about money and fame, Oscars and domination. Hollywood is a control freak at the level of the global planet. And it hurts when some shares of this market evade them. It hurts so much they are ready to sacrifice a few sacred cows, or stars, to regain the ground they’ve lost.

Dr. Jacques COULARDEAU

GEOFF NELDER – ARIA: LEFT LUGGAGE – 2011

Imagination, when compared to life, is so absurd that it becomes fascinating, mesmerizing and even hypnotizing. And Geoff Nelder really puts the smallest dishes imaginable into the biggest ones till the latter are overflowingly full.

The story is simple. Some extraterrestrials decide to take over the earth. So they deposit a suitcase on the International Space Station. The suitcase is taken down to earth, then opened by some reckless cat who will not even be killed by his curiosity. That spread a virus on the planet at the speed of light. This virus destroys the memory of people backward, so that they lose their memory from right now back on, one year in just a few days. And they reach twenty or more years in a few months. It creates an artificial Alzheimer and the consequences should be the extinction of the human race when the loss of memory reaches birth since then they will lose the memory of their basic needs like hunger and thirst, though the book pretends they will keep the memory of reproduction, at least the need of that type of physical contact, producing babies that would be forgotten as soon as being born. Destruction all around.

But later on, the extraterrestrials deposit a second suitcase on the ISS. The team decides to take it down themselves with their shuttle and they select a base in Wales that is entirely cut off from the rest of the world and where a band of uninfected scientists have taken refuge incognito of anyone. The second suitcase is then opened and it reveals it propagates a second virus that amplifies the memory of people to the very simultaneous remembering of absolutely everything down to the last detail since even before birth. This mental cramming causes serious mental disruption and at least people simply get psychotic with headaches to accompany the disruption. And from psychotic to psychopath there is only one step and the victim of this second disruption starts killing or trying to kill. But he is also endowed with enhanced humanity and life and he can even survive mortal wounds, hence death itself.

Then the conclusion is simple “Where’s there’s life, there’s hope.” It sounds like Obama and these uninfected scientists manage to travel all around the globe to another isolated area where some scientists have taken refuge in the south Pacific. Yes, definitely, they can.

The best part is for me the emergence of the first virus in a Boeing Dreamliner flying from New York to London. It is hilarious to see how the people who are losing their memory are also losing their consciousness of why they were travelling to London and so they hi-jack the plane to go back to New York, and the book reveals that this hi-jacking is impossible today because any plane can be taken under control directly from some air-traffic controlling center and then no one can pilot the plane from the cockpit and the plane can be taken anywhere the technicians in the air-traffic controlling center decide. The bully passengers who have taken over the plane thus find out the plane is directed onto a disaffected airstrip where it will be quarantined for as long as they will remember, and remember is interesting since they are losing their memory. Quarantine forever.

There are dozens of situations of that type that are dramatically humorous. And the escape of the English scientists and the ISS team from Wales to move to the South Pacific is just both incredible and funnily absurd, not funny ah ah but funny strange of course, like the famous joke of old about French cows who have five legs and not four like all self-respecting English cows.

But the author is titillating us with an important question: what is the role of memory in life? It is crucial since the loss of memory is the surest way to die, and at the same time, the preservation of memory will provide every living person with the consciousness that life is lethal since it leads to death anyway and at all times. You must admit it is crucial, isn’t it? Unconscious death as opposed to conscious death. The choice of the century.

And excessive memory leads to psychosis. Luckily the author avoided the now un-trendy if not politically incorrect term of schizophrenia. Psychosis means killing to survive, though survival is short lived in a way. But it also leads to self-preservation on the side of “normal” people who kill the deranged people with no pangs of conscience at all. Memory is the core capability of our brain and central nervous system that enables all other mental capabilities starting with sensing, perceiving, identifying or recognizing (naming), experimenting, speculating and conceptualizing without which no language is possible, no abstract thinking is possible, no human species is possible. Our memory associated to the mutations brought to us by the emergence of the bipedal long distance fast runner that Homo Sapiens was some 300,000 years ago gave Homo Sapiens the tools he needed to invent and develop our human articulated languages. No memory then no language, not even the simple set of eight or nine calls a standard monkey species have at their disposal.

Yet I think the description of this loss of memory is rather tamed by the fact it is seen essentially through people who do not lose their memory. When someone is severely hit by Alzheimer they may well lose the ability to eat and drink and only very basic physical functions will survive for a while, like breathing and rejecting waste. That leads some older people to the simple situation when they have to be fed otherwise they won’t do it on their own, and they won’t communicate anymore. They are not reduced to a vegetal state because a plant does not forget to breathe and their roots do not forget to work and the plant’s nourishment comes from the roots and the breathing of the leaves.

Highly entertaining though totally foolish crazy mad science-fiction directly out of Mad Magazine and their Alfred E. Newman. In a way, it is refreshing to know that on this planet some people might be slightly saner than most others, especially politicians.

Dr. Jacques COULARDEAU

#hatred #cinema #science fiction

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travelworldnetwork · 6 years ago

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Thirty years after the wall fell, Berlin has become one of the world's greatest destinations. Photo: Alamy

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The first barbed-wire coils of what would become the Berlin Wall were rolled out in August 1961. Soon, this barrier would become infamous for creating the cut-off enclave of free West Berlin inside socialist dictatorship East Germany, and slicing Berlin's city centre in two.

The Berlin Wall stood, in several different forms, for 28 years until the evening of November 9, 1989, when Berlin's citizens rose up and, with hammers, pickaxes and their bare hands, consigned to history their contentious, reinforced-concrete border. It was a peaceful revolution and scenes of Berliners dancing atop the Wall provided one of the great media moments of the late 20th century.

The Berlin Wall was more than just a wall. By the 1980s it was two walls, a string of watchtowers and fences, a series of anti-vehicle trenches and a barren "death strip" where escapees could be – and were – shot on sight. There is no official figure on how many lost their lives – perhaps 200. More than 5000 people managed to escape, some in ingenious ways, including the use of zip-lines, tunnels and even a stolen army tank.

The Berlin Wall didn't just separate friend and families. It was also an ideological barrier, the physical incarnation of the Iron Curtain that divided western capitalism from eastern communism. It was the Cold War in concrete, and a symbol beloved of spy movies and novels.

Today little remains of this monument to the Cold War in Berlin, since most of it was either destroyed or souvenired. Cobblestones and metal strips mark its former location in the city centre, and small (yet still sinister) sections remain. The city recalls its Cold War past, however, in various museums, memorials and sites around the city.

Throughout this year, which marks the 30th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall, there will be added levels of interest as key sites host special exhibitions, events and commemorations that provide an even more compelling look at this paranoid, politically charged and – from the perspective of passing time – utterly bizarre period in European history.

To Germany's credit, Berlin today has a gracefully restored and reunited city centre and is one of Europe's most multi-ethnic, youthful, tolerant and energetic cities. Yet it doesn't whitewash its past, and continues to grapple with legacies of its Nazi and Cold War eras. It preserves these memories at informative, interesting and often unflinching historical sites. Few cities are as pleasant and vibrant to visit, and yet as insightful and sometimes confronting too, making this one of the world's great destinations for the thoughtful traveller.

THE MONUMENT BRANDENBURG GATE

Photo: German National Tourist Board

WHY SEE IT

This neoclassical triumphal arch is Berlin's symbol. The square around it sees festivals, celebrations, marathons, rallies and New Year's Eve fireworks.

THE HISTORY

Brandenburg Gate was completed in 1791 as a monumental entrance to Unter den Linden Boulevard leading to the Prussian royal palace. The Berlin Wall ran close to the Gate, which became the symbol of a divided Europe. Reopened after extensive renovations in 2002, it now stands for freedom and German unity.

WHAT TO SEE

The Gate itself, the Quadriga statue at its summit depicting a horse-drawn chariot, and surrounding Pariser Platz, an elegant square of embassies, town houses and the famous Adlon Hotel.

DON'T MISS

The Room of Silence in a flanking guardhouse, with its wall-hanging depicting light penetrating the darkness of a forest.

ESSENTIALS

Always open, free admission. See visitberlin.de

THE MEMORIAL BERLIN WALL MEMORIAL

Photo: Alamy

WHY SEE IT

This surviving 60-metre section of Wall (and watchtower) was the scene of several significant Cold War events. Escapee Ida Siekmann became the first known casualty of the Berlin Wall here just nine days after its construction.

THE HISTORY

The memorial was created in 1998 on Bernauer Strasse, a Berlin street made famous in August 1961 when images of East Germans leaping from apartment windows into the French sector were beamed around the world. This was the first part of the Wall to come down in November 1989.

WHAT TO SEE

An open-air exhibition details the Berlin Wall's appearance in the 1980s and how the border was organised. A visitor centre outlines its construction.

DON'T MISS

The Chapel of Reconciliation, a striking, contemporary commemoration of the 130 people who lost their lives crossing the Berlin Wall.

ESSENTIALS

Exhibition and grounds open 8am to 10pm daily, admission free. See berliner-mauer-gedenkstaette.de

THE TOURIST SITE CHECKPOINT CHARLIE

Photo: Alamy

WHY SEE IT

This infamous checkpoint between Berlin's American and Soviet sectors is a kitschy reconstruction, but does provide a sense of deja vu for aficionados of spy movies and espionage novels.

THE HISTORY

This was one of few Berlin Wall crossing points and the only one permitted to westerners. American and Soviet tanks famously faced off here in 1961. The original checkpoint and guardhouse was entirely removed in 1990.

WHAT TO SEE

This is a place to capture some Zeitgeist rather than sight see, though information boards outline the checkpoint's history. A pseudo-guardhouse fronted by sandbags is a tourist magnet, but bears scant resemblance to the original.

DON'T MISS

Private museum Haus am Checkpoint Charlie (mauermuseum.de) documents the inventive, dramatic and sometimes fatal escapes across the Berlin Wall by East Germans.

ESSENTIALS

Always open, admission free. See visitberlin.de

THE FESTIVAL 30TH ANNIVERSARY YEAR

WHY SEE IT

If you hanker to see Berlin or investigate the Cold War years, do it this year, as special events highlight this peculiar period in the city's history.

THE HISTORY

Thirty years since the fall of the Berlin Wall, the city is commemorating by taking a new look at the Wall's history, East Berlin's struggle for freedom and the German reunification process.

WHAT TO SEE

There are events all year, so check what's on during your visit. Among them are exhibitions on the Berlin airlift, Stasi (secret police) operations and East Germany's once boarded-up "ghost station" metro stops.

DON'T MISS

The million-strong German Unification Day street party on October 3, an annual family event of live music, food and carnival rides that promises to be bigger than ever this year – although unification's 30th anniversary isn't until 2020.

ESSENTIALS

See visitberlin.de

THE MUSEUM GERMAN SPY MUSEUM

CCTV at the Spy Museum. Photo: Alamy

WHY SEE IT

Put the Berlin Wall and Cold War into context in this excellent interactive museum, which details many of the era's political dramas and the dealings of its shadowy agents.

THE HISTORY

The museum was opened in 2015. It focuses on the Cold War period and some of its most notorious spies and assassins. As a reminder that history repeats itself, though, the museum also traces several millennia of spycraft, from ancient Babylon and Tudor times to World War II.

WHAT TO SEE

The collection of Cold War weapons, transmitters and recorders concealed within everyday items such as umbrellas and telephones is particularly fascinating.

DON'T MISS

If you have kids, they'll love the laser room. The aim is to wiggle through it, like Catherine Zeta-Jones in Entrapment, in record time.

ESSENTIALS

Open daily 10am to 8pm, admission €12. See deutsches-spionagemuseum.de

THE ART EAST SIDE GALLERY

Fraternal Kiss, a recreation of an actual 1979 embrace between Soviet leader Leonid Brezhnev and East German leader Erich Honecker. Photo: SHUTTERSTOCK

WHY SEE IT

This chunk of concrete along the Spree River is the longest surviving section of original Berlin Wall (1.3 kilometres). Now covered in some 100 artworks, it's billed as the world's longest open-air art gallery.

THE HISTORY

Artists started daubing the Wall almost immediately following the border's opening in November 1989. Soon, graffiti was ruining the originals. The site was declared a protected memorial in 1991 and its artworks restored or repainted.

WHAT TO SEE

The best artworks comment on the Wall's fall and subsequent social changes in East Germany. Take an informative guided tour at 10am on Saturdays with the Berlin Wall Foundation, if you can.

DON'T MISS

The most famous mural is Fraternal Kiss, a recreation of an actual 1979 embrace between Soviet leader Leonid Brezhnev and East German leader Erich Honecker.

ESSENTIALS

Always open, admission free, tours €3.50. See eastsidegalleryberlin.de

THE DISPLAY BLACKBOX COLD WAR

WHY SEE IT

This flat, black building near Checkpoint Charlie is dedicated to Cold War artefacts, but also links to Cold War politics and events beyond Berlin, such as the Korean War and Cuban missile crisis.

THE HISTORY

Dark walls on this building are emblazoned with grey multilingual terms such as "Espionage" and "Democracy". It was opened in 2012 as a temporary exhibition space before the construction of a permanent Museum of the Cold War.

WHAT TO SEE

Large-format photos of Cold War events and the no-man's-land that ran along the Berlin Wall are particularly striking. Watch historical film excerpts in the cinema and listen to Berliners recalling Cold War memories at 16 media stations.

DON'T MISS

A Soviet radiation dosimeter used to measure radioactivity levels, which is a reminder of how close the world came to nuclear war.

ESSENTIALS

Open daily 10am to 6pm, admission €5. See bfgg.de

THE DISTRICT POTSDAMER PLATZ

Photo: Alamy

WHY SEE IT

No part of Berlin better symbolises its fall and rise. Corporate headquarters designed by famous architects rise from a former wasteland. Its few remnants of Wall seem surreal and inconsequential.

THE HISTORY

This square had its origins in the 17th century and its heyday in the early 20th before it was flattened in World War II. A location at the intersection of American, British and Soviet sectors saw it abandoned. In the 1990s an entirely new district arose.

WHAT TO SEE

Metal strips mark where the Berlin Wall once ran. Scan the QR code at Deutsche Bahn Tower for a look at the square's changing face through time. An old GDR watchtower lingers on Erna-Berger-Strasse.

DON'T MISS

Six re-erected segments of much-graffitied Wall stand outside the entrance to the train station, alongside information boards.

ESSENTIALS

Always open, admission free. See potsdamerplatz.de

THE ACTIVITY BERLIN WALL TRAIL

WHY SEE IT

Take to the flat, paved cycleway (divided into 14 sections) that follows the 160-kilometre former location of the Wall. Signs 3.6 metres high – the height of the Berlin Wall – point the way.

THE HISTORY

The trail follows the old East German patrol path and West German customs route along the Wall. It was completed in 2006.

WHAT TO SEE

There are various Wall segments, plus informal memorials to escapees, such as plaques and crosses. At times, you cycle through fields and woodland, along canal banks and through villages such as Lubars and royal summer retreat, Potsdam.

DON'T MISS

The Church of the Redeemer in Sacrow, infamous because the Berlin Wall ran straight through it. It now presents a pretty Italianate picture on a lakeshore.

ESSENTIALS

Bicycle rentals from €10 s day. Guided tour of a 15-kilometre segment €24 including bike hire. See berlinonbike.de

THE CELEBRATION FALL OF THE WALL

WHY SEE IT

The 30th anniversary of the Berlin Wall's demise will see seven city sites, all key during the events of 1989-90, feature special celebrations and open-air exhibitions.

THE HISTORY

The Fountain of International Friendship, Alexanderplatz. Photo: Alamy

Among the venues for the celebrations will be Brandenburg Gate, East Side Gallery, the 1960s East German creation Alexanderplatz, and Gethsemane Church in Prenzlauer Berg district, whose congregation played a central role in 1989 protests against the GDR.

WHAT TO SEE

A "Route of Revolution'" will connect Cold War venues, which will host concerts, film screenings, artworks and sound-and-light installations such as protestors' demands to abolish the GDR's secret police, beamed onto the facade of the former Stasi headquarters.

DON'T MISS

The culminating, city-wide music festival on the evening of November 9, featuring singers and musicians with connections to the Berlin Wall's fall.

ESSENTIALS

The festival runs from November 4-10, 2019. See visitberlin.de

A SHORT HISTORY OF THE BERLIN WALL

1945 World War II ends. Berlin is divided into American, British, French and Soviet sectors.

October 7, 1949 The Soviet-controlled German Democratic Republic (or East Germany) is declared.

1952 The border between the two Germanys is closed, but Berlin remains relatively porous. By 1961, 20 per cent of East Germany's population has departed.

August 13,1961 East Berlin's border is closed on Barbed Wire Sunday. Fencing and concrete blocks are erected.

1975 Following several incarnations, construction begins on a reinforced-concrete Berlin Wall – the one most people remember – and is completed over several years.

1987 American president Ronald Reagan challenges the Soviet president at Brandenburg Gate: "Mr Gorbachev, tear down this Wall!"

1989 Chris Gueffroy is the last person shot and killed at the Wall. Winfried Freudenberg is the last person killed in an escape attempt when his hot-air balloon crashes. The Soviet Bloc disintegrates. There are mass demonstrations in East Germany.

November 9, 1989 East German radio announces its border are open. People stream towards the Berlin Wall, which is breached in places.

June 13, 1990 East Germany begins to officially dismantle the Wall, an 18-month task.

October 3,1990 Germany is reunified.

EAST GERMAN THROWBACKS

Nostalgia for some aspects of life in East Germany has given rise to the term "ostalgie". Look out for these classic GDR products.

AMPELMANN

The distinctive walking man on green traffic lights at pedestrian crossings was introduced to East Berlin in 1961 and brought back by popular demand after reunification. The cult figure now has its own shops and memorabilia. See ampelmann.de

TRABANT

The rattling, poorly designed East German car affectionately known as the Trabi ceased production in 1991, but some companies offer Trabi tours or rentals. Inspect the iconic car's many incarnations at the Trabi Museum. See trabi-museum.com

EINKAUFSNETZ

This classic waxed-string shopping bag with leather handles was a necessity in an East Germany short of plastic. The once-derided bag's nostalgic comeback has been helped along by newfound environmental concerns about single-use plastics.

VITA COLA

Vita Cola, less sweet, thicker, fruitier and more lemony than rival colas, was introduced to the GDR in 1957 but succumbed to western brands when the Wall fell. It's now back and outsells Pepsi in the former East Germany.

KETWURST

The name of East Berlin's answer to the hotdog is a portmanteau of ketchup and wurst, or sausage. It emerged in the late 1970s and is now only available in limited places such as Alain Snack Bar in Prenzlauer Berg. See ketwurst.com

BERLIN BEYOND THE WALL

Berlin isn't just a Cold War remnant but one of Europe's most vibrant, cosmopolitan and enjoyable cities.

CULTURE

What bombed-out Berlin lacks in palaces and monuments it makes up for with museums. Museum Island alone presents a world-class congregation of museums whose collections range from Greek and Roman sculpture to Near Eastern antiquities, Islamic art and European painting. See smb.museum

SHOPPING

The city's main shopping district around Kurfurstendamm, commonly called Ku'Damm, sees department stores, chic boutiques and side-street speciality stores mix. Europa Centre is Berlin's biggest shopping mall and one of Europe's largest entertainment complexes. See europa-center-berlin.de

BEACHES

Landlocked Berlin has a great array of artificial urban beaches, especially along the Spree River. Why would an Aussie bother? Because they feature cocktail bars, nightclubs, samba dance evenings and other fun – or if nothing else, provide passing spots for a relaxing beer or two. See visitberlin.de

SIGHTSEEING

The madly ornate, baroque-era Charlottenburg Palace, sprawling Tiergarten park and the Reichstag or parliament building are three key sights. You should also visit World War II memorials such as the confronting Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe. See stiftung-denkmal.de

NIGHTLIFE

Plentiful pubs, clubs and dance halls, cabaret and avant-garde theatres, year-round festivals and even fetish houses make Berlin a top city for evening shenanigans. Hit Prenzlauer Berg, Kreuzberg or Friedrichshain districts and you won't be crawling home until the wee hours. See visitberlin.de

TRIP NOTES

traveller.com.au/germany

visitberlin.de

FLY

Etihad flies from Sydney and Melbourne to Abu Dhabi with connections to Berlin via Dusseldorf. See etihad.com

STAY

Lux Eleven Berlin-Mitte has big rooms with kitchenettes and sitting areas, and is well located in Berlin's trendy Mitte district. See lux-eleven.com

Brian Johnston was a guest of the German National Tourist Office and Visit Berlin.

from traveller.com.au

#Travel Guide

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