#edit: his name is benoit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fibula-rasa · 6 months

Text

(Mostly) Lost, but Not Forgotten: Omar Khayyam (1923) / A Lover’s Oath (1925)

Alternate Titles: The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, The Rubaiyat, Omar Khayyam, Omar

Direction: Ferdinand Pinney Earle; assisted by Walter Mayo

Scenario: Ferdinand P. Earle

Titles: Marion Ainslee, Ferdinand P. Earle (Omar), Louis Weadock (A Lover’s Oath)

Inspired by: The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, as edited & translated by Edward FitzGerald

Production Manager: Winthrop Kelly

Camera: Georges Benoit

Still Photography: Edward S. Curtis

Special Photographic Effects: Ferdinand P. Earle, Gordon Bishop Pollock

Composer: Charles Wakefield Cadman

Editors: Arthur D. Ripley (The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam version), Ethel Davey & Ferdinand P. Earle (Omar / Omar Khayyam, the Director’s cut of 1922), Milton Sills (A Lover’s Oath)

Scenic Artists: Frank E. Berier, Xavier Muchado, Anthony Vecchio, Paul Detlefsen, Flora Smith, Jean Little Cyr, Robert Sterner, Ralph Willis

Character Designer: Louis Hels

Choreography: Ramon Novarro (credited as Ramon Samaniegos)

Technical Advisors: Prince Raphael Emmanuel, Reverend Allan Moore, Captain Dudley S. Corlette, & Captain Montlock or Mortlock

Studio: Ferdinand P. Earle Productions / The Rubaiyat, Inc. (Production) & Eastern Film Corporation (Distribution, Omar), Astor Distribution Corporation [States Rights market] (Distribution, A Lover’s Oath)

Performers: Frederick Warde, Edwin Stevens, Hedwiga Reicher, Mariska Aldrich, Paul Weigel, Robert Anderson, Arthur Carewe, Jesse Weldon, Snitz Edwards, Warren Rogers, Ramon Novarro (originally credited as Ramon Samaniegos), Big Jim Marcus, Kathleen Key, Charles A. Post, Phillippe de Lacy, Ferdinand Pinney Earle

Premiere(s): Omar cut: April 1922 The Ambassador Theatre, New York, NY (Preview Screening), 12 October 1923, Loew’s New York, New York, NY (Preview Screening), 2 February 1923, Hoyt’s Theatre, Sydney, Australia (Initial Release)

Status: Presumed lost, save for one 30 second fragment preserved by the Academy Film Archive, and a 2.5 minute fragment preserved by a private collector (Old Films & Stuff)

Length: Omar Khayyam: 8 reels , 76 minutes; A Lover’s Oath: 6 reels, 5,845 feet (though once listed with a runtime of 76 minutes, which doesn’t line up with the stated length of this cut)

Synopsis (synthesized from magazine summaries of the plot):

Omar Khayyam:

Set in 12th century Persia, the story begins with a preface in the youth of Omar Khayyam (Warde). Omar and his friends, Nizam (Weigel) and Hassan (Stevens), make a pact that whichever one of them becomes a success in life first will help out the others. In adulthood, Nizam has become a potentate and has given Omar a position so that he may continue his studies in mathematics and astronomy. Hassan, however, has grown into quite the villain. When he is expelled from the kingdom, he plots to kidnap Shireen (Key), the sheik’s daughter. Shireen is in love with Ali (Novarro). In the end it’s Hassan’s wife (Reicher) who slays the villain then kills herself.

A Lover’s Oath:

The daughter of a sheik, Shireen (Key), is in love with Ali (Novarro), the son of the ruler of a neighboring kingdom. Hassan covets Shireen and plots to kidnap her. Hassan is foiled by his wife. [The Sills’ edit places Ali and Shireen as protagonists, but there was little to no re-shooting done (absolutely none with Key or Novarro). So, most critics note how odd it is that all Ali does in the film is pitch woo, and does not save Shireen himself. This obviously wouldn’t have been an issue in the earlier cut, where Ali is a supporting character, often not even named in summaries and news items. Additional note: Post’s credit changes from “Vizier” to “Commander of the Faithful”]

Additional sequence(s) featured in the film (but I’m not sure where they fit in the continuity):

Celestial sequences featuring stars and planets moving through the cosmos

Angels spinning in a cyclone up to the heavens

A Potters’ shop sequence (relevant to a specific section of the poems)

Harem dance sequence choreographed by Novarro

Locations: palace gardens, street and marketplace scenes, ancient ruins

Points of Interest:

“The screen has been described as the last word in realism, but why confine it there? It can also be the last word in imaginative expression.”

Ferdinand P. Earle as quoted in Exhibitors Trade Review, 4 March 1922

The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam was a massive best seller. Ferdinand Pinney Earle was a classically trained artist who studied under William-Adolphe Bougueraeu and James McNeill Whistler in his youth. He also had years of experience creating art backgrounds, matte paintings, and art titles for films. Charles Wakefield Cadman was an accomplished composer of songs, operas, and operettas. Georges Benoit and Gordon Pollock were experienced photographic technicians. Edward S. Curtis was a widely renowned still photographer. Ramon Novarro was a name nobody knew yet—but they would soon enough.

When Earle chose The Rubaiyat as the source material for his directorial debut and collected such skilled collaborators, it seemed likely that the resulting film would be a landmark in the art of American cinema. Quite a few people who saw Earle’s Rubaiyat truly thought it would be:

William E. Wing writing for Camera, 9 September 1922, wrote:

“Mr. Earle…came from the world of brush and canvass, to spread his art upon the greater screen. He created a new Rubaiyat with such spiritual colors, that they swayed.” … “It has been my fortune to see some of the most wonderful sets that this Old Earth possesses, but I may truly say that none seized me more suddenly, or broke with greater, sudden inspiration upon the view and the brain, than some of Ferdinand Earle’s backgrounds, in his Rubaiyat. “His vision and inspired art seem to promise something bigger and better for the future screen.”

As quoted in an ad in Film Year Book, 1923:

“Ferdinand Earle has set a new standard of production to live up to.”

Rex Ingram

“Fifty years ahead of the time.”

Marshall Neilan

The film was also listed among Fritz Lang’s Siegfried, Chaplin’s Gold Rush, Fairbanks’ Don Q, Lon Chaney’s Phantom of the Opera and The Unholy Three, and Erich Von Stroheim’s Merry Widow by the National Board of Review as an exceptional film of 1925.

So why don’t we all know about this film? (Spoiler: it’s not just because it’s lost!)

The short answer is that multiple dubious legal challenges arose that prevented Omar’s general release in the US. The long answer follows BELOW THE JUMP!

Earle began the project in earnest in 1919. Committing The Rubaiyat to film was an ambitious undertaking for a first-time director and Earle was striking out at a time when the American film industry was developing an inferiority complex about the level of artistry in their creative output. Earle was one of a number of artists in the film colony who were going independent of the emergent studio system for greater protections of their creative freedoms.

In their adaptation of The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, Earle and Co. hoped to develop new and perfect existing techniques for incorporating live-action performers with paintings and expand the idea of what could be accomplished with photographic effects in filmmaking. The Rubaiyat was an inspired choice. It’s not a narrative, but a collection of poetry. This gave Earle the opportunity to intersperse fantastical, poetic sequences throughout a story set in the lifetime of Omar Khayyam, the credited writer of the poems. In addition to the fantastic, Earle’s team would recreate 12th century Persia for the screen.

Earle was convinced that if his methods were perfected, it wouldn’t matter when or where a scene was set, it would not just be possible but practical to put on film. For The Rubaiyat, the majority of shooting was done against black velvet and various matte photography and multiple exposure techniques were employed to bring a setting 800+ years in the past and 1000s of miles removed to life before a camera in a cottage in Los Angeles.

Note: If you’d like to learn a bit more about how these effects were executed at the time, see the first installment of How’d They Do That.

Unfortunately, the few surviving minutes don’t feature much of this special photography, but what does survive looks exquisite:

see all gifs here

Earle, knowing that traditional stills could not be taken while filming, brought in Edward S. Curtis. Curtis developed techniques in still photography to replicate the look of the photographic effects used for the film. So, even though the film hasn’t survived, we have some pretty great looking representations of some of the 1000s of missing feet of the film.

Nearly a year before Curtis joined the crew, Earle began collaboration with composer Charles Wakefield Cadman. In another bold creative move, Cadman and Earle worked closely before principal photography began so that the score could inform the construction and rhythm of the film and vice versa.

By the end of 1921 the film was complete. After roughly 9 months and the creation of over 500 paintings, The Rubaiyat was almost ready to meet its public. However, the investors in The Rubaiyat, Inc., the corporation formed by Earle to produce the film, objected to the ample reference to wine drinking (a comical objection if you’ve read the poems) and wanted the roles of the young lovers (played by as yet unknown Ramon Novarro and Kathleen Key) to be expanded. The dispute with Earle became so heated that the financiers absconded with the bulk of the film to New York. Earle filed suit against them in December to prevent them from screening their butchered and incomplete cut. Cadman supported Earle by withholding the use of his score for the film.

Later, Eastern Film Corp. brokered a settlement between the two parties, where Earle would get final cut of the film and Eastern would handle its release. Earle and Eastern agreed to change the title from The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam to simply Omar. Omar had its first official preview in New York City. It was tentatively announced that the film would have a wide release in the autumn.

However, before that autumn, director Norman Dawn launched a dubious patent-infringement suit against Earle and others. Dawn claimed that he owned the sole right to use multiple exposures, glass painting for single exposure, and other techniques that involved combining live action with paintings. All the cited techniques had been widespread in the film industry for a decade already and eventually and expectedly Dawn lost the suit. Despite Earle’s victory, the suit effectively put the kibosh on Omar’s release in the US.

Earle moved on to other projects that didn’t come to fruition, like a Theda Bara film and a frankly amazing sounding collaboration with Cadman to craft a silent-film opera of Faust. Omar did finally get a release, albeit only in Australia. Australian news outlets praised the film as highly as those few lucky attendees of the American preview screenings did. The narrative was described as not especially original, but that it was good enough in view of the film’s artistry and its imaginative “visual phenomena” and the precision of its technical achievement.

One reviewer for The Register, Adelaide, SA, wrote:

“It seems almost an impossibility to make a connected story out of the short verse of the Persian of old, yet the producer of this classic of the screen… has succeeded in providing an entertainment that would scarcely have been considered possible. From first to last the story grips with its very dramatic intensity.”

While Omar’s American release was still in limbo, “Ramon Samaniegos” made a huge impression in Rex Ingram’s Prisoner of Zenda (1922, extant) and Scaramouche (1923, extant) and took on a new name: Ramon Novarro. Excitement was mounting for Novarro’s next big role as the lead in the epic Ben-Hur (1925, extant) and the Omar project was re-vivified.

A new company, Astor Distribution Corp., was formed and purchased the distribution rights to Omar. Astor hired actor (note, not an editor) Milton Sills to re-cut the film to make Novarro and Key more prominent. The company also re-wrote the intertitles, reduced the films runtime by more than ten minutes, and renamed the film A Lover’s Oath. Earle had moved on by this point, vowing to never direct again. In fact, Earle was indirectly working with Novarro and Key again at the time, as an art director on Ben-Hur!

Despite Omar’s seemingly auspicious start in 1920, it was only released in the US on the states rights market as a cash-in on the success of one of its actors in a re-cut form five years later.

That said, A Lover’s Oath still received some good reviews from those who did manage to see it. Most of the negative criticism went to the story, intertitles, and Sills’ editing.

What kind of legacy could/should Omar have had? I’m obviously limited in my speculation by the fact that the film is lost, but there are a few key facts about the film’s production, release, and timing to consider.

The production budget was stated to be $174,735. That is equivalent to $3,246,994.83 in 2024 dollars. That is a lot of money, but since the production was years long and Omar was a period film set in a remote locale and features fantastical special effects sequences, it’s a modest budget. For contemporary perspective, Robin Hood (1922, extant) cost just under a million dollars to produce and Thief of Bagdad (1924, extant) cost over a million. For a film similarly steeped in spectacle to have nearly 1/10th of the budget is really very noteworthy. And, perhaps if the film had ever had a proper release in the US—in Earle’s intended form (that is to say, not the Sills cut)—Omar may have made as big of a splash as other epics.

It’s worth noting here however that there are a number of instances in contemporary trade and fan magazines where journalists off-handedly make this filmmaking experiment about undermining union workers. Essentially implying that that value of Earle’s method would be to continue production when unionized workers were striking. I’m sure that that would absolutely be a primary thought for studio heads, but it certainly wasn’t Earle’s motivation. Often when Earle talks about the method, he focuses on being able to film things that were previously impossible or impracticable to film. Driving down filming costs from Earle’s perspective was more about highlighting the artistry of his own specialty in lieu of other, more demanding and time-consuming approaches, like location shooting.

This divide between artists and studio decision makers is still at issue in the American film and television industry. Studio heads with billion dollar salaries constantly try to subvert unions of skilled professionals by pursuing (as yet) non-unionized labor. The technical developments of the past century have made Earle’s approach easier to implement. However, just because you don’t have to do quite as much math, or time an actor’s movements to a metronome, does not mean that filming a combination of painted/animated and live-action elements does not involve skilled labor.

VFX artists and animators are underappreciated and underpaid. In every new movie or TV show you watch there’s scads of VFX work done even in films/shows that have mundane, realistic settings. So, if you love a film or TV show, take the effort to appreciate the work of the humans who made it, even if their work was so good you didn’t notice it was done. And, if you’ve somehow read this far, and are so out of the loop about modern filmmaking, Disney’s “live-action” remakes are animated films, but they’ve just finagled ways to circumvent unions and low-key delegitimize the skilled labor of VFX artists and animators in the eyes of the viewing public. Don’t fall for it.

VFX workers in North America have a union under IATSE, but it’s still developing as a union and Marvel & Disney workers only voted to unionize in the autumn of 2023. The Animation Guild (TAG), also under the IATSE umbrella, has a longer history, but it’s been growing rapidly in the past year. A strike might be upcoming this year for TAG, so keep an eye out and remember to support striking workers and don’t cross picket lines, be they physical or digital!

Speaking of artistry over cost-cutting, I began this post with a mention that in the early 1920s, the American film industry was developing an inferiority complex in regard to its own artistry. This was in comparison to the European industries, Germany’s being the largest at the time. It’s frustrating to look back at this period and see acceptance of the opinion that American filmmakers weren’t bringing art to film. While yes, the emergent studio system was highly capitalistic and commercial, that does not mean the American industry was devoid of home-grown artists.

United Artists was formed in 1919 by Douglas Fairbanks, Charlie Chaplin, Mary Pickford, and D.W. Griffith precisely because studios were holding them back from investing in their art—within the same year that Earle began his Omar project. While salaries and unforgiving production schedules were also paramount concerns in the filmmakers going independent, a primary impetus was that production/distribution heads exhibited too much control over what the artists were trying to create.

Fairbanks was quickly expanding his repertoire in a more classical and fantastic direction. Cecil B. DeMille made his first in a long and very successful string of ancient epics. And the foreign-born children of the American film industry, Charlie Chaplin, Rex Ingram, and Nazimova, were poppin’ off! Chaplin was redefining comedic filmmaking. Ingram was redefining epics. Nazimova independently produced what is often regarded as America’s first art film, Salome (1923, extant), a film designed by Natacha Rambova, who was *gasp* American. Earle and his brother, William, had ambitious artistic visions of what could be done in the American industry and they also had to self-produce to get their work done.

Meanwhile, studio heads, instead of investing in the artists they already had contracts with, tried to poach talent from Europe with mixed success (in this period, see: Ernst Lubitsch, F.W. Murnau, Benjamin Christensen, Mauritz Stiller, Victor Sjöström, and so on). I’m in no way saying it was the wrong call to sign these artists, but all of these filmmakers, even if they found success in America, had stories of being hired to inject the style and artistry that they developed in Europe into American cinema, and then had their plans shot down or cut down to a shadow of their creative vision. Even Stiller, who tragically died before he had the opportunity to establish himself in the US, faced this on his first American film, The Temptress (1926, extant), on which he was replaced. Essentially, the studio heads’ actions were all hot air and spite for the filmmakers who’d gone independent.

Finally I would like to highlight Ferdinand Earle’s statement to the industry, which he penned for from Camera in 14 January 1922, when his financial backers kidnapped his film to re-edit it on their terms:

MAGNA CHARTA

Until screen authors and producers obtain a charter specifying and guaranteeing their privileges and rights, the great slaughter of unprotected motion picture dramas will go merrily on.

Some of us who are half artists and half fighters and who are ready to expend ninety per cent of our energy in order to win the freedom to devote the remaining ten per cent to creative work on the screen, manage to bring to birth a piteous, half-starved art progeny.

The creative artist today labors without the stimulus of a public eager for his product, labors without the artistic momentum that fires the artist’s imagination and spurs his efforts as in any great art era.

Nowadays the taint of commercialism infects the seven arts, and the art pioneer meets with constant petty worries and handicaps.

Only once in a blue moon, in this matter-of-fact, dollar-wise age can the believer in better pictures hope to participate in a truely [sic] artistic treat.

In the seven years I have devoted to the screen, I have witnessed many splendid photodramas ruined by intruding upstarts and stubborn imbeciles. And I determined not to launch the production of my Opus No. 1 until I had adequately protected myself against all the usual evils of the way, especially as I was to make an entirely new type of picture.

In order that my film verison [sic] of the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam might be produced under ideal conditions and safeguarded from intolerable interferences and outside worries, I entered into a contract with the Rubaiyat, Inc., that made me not only president of the corporation and on the board of directors, but which set forth that I was to be author, production manager, director, cutter and film editor as well as art director, and that no charge could be made against the production without my written consent, and that my word was to be final on all matters of production. The late George Loane Tucker helped my attorney word the contract, which read like a splendid document.

Alas, I am now told that only by keeping title to a production until it is declared by yourself to be completed is it safe for a scenario writer, an actor or a director, who is supposedly making his own productions, to contract with a corporation; otherwise he is merely the servant of that corporation, subject at any moment to discharge, with the dubious redress of a suit for damages that can with difficulty be estimated and proven.

Can there be any hope of better pictures as long as contracts and copyrights are no protection against financial brigands and bullies?

We have scarcely emerged from barbarism, for contracts, solemnly drawn up between human beings, in which the purposes are set forth in the King’s plainest English, serve only as hurdles over which justice-mocking financiers and their nimble attorneys travel with impunity, riding rough shod over the author or artist who cannot support a legal army to defend his rights. The phrase is passed about that no contract is invioliable [sic]—and yet we think we have reached a state of civilization!

The suit begun by my attorneys in the federal courts to prevent the present hashed and incomplete version of my story from being released and exhibited, may be of interest to screen writers. For the whole struggle revolves not in the slightest degree around the sanctity of the contract, but centers around the federal copyright of my story which I never transferred in writing otherwise, and which is being brazenly ignored.

Imagine my production without pictorial titles: and imagine “The Rubaiyat” with a spoken title as follows, “That bird is getting to talk too much!”—beside some of the immortal quatrains of Fitzgerald!

One weapon, fortunately, remains for the militant art creator, when all is gone save his dignity and his sense of humor; and that is the rapier blade of ridicule, that can send lumbering to his retreat the most brutal and elephant-hided lord of finance.

How edifying—the tableau of the man of millions playing legal pranks upon men such as Charles Wakefield Cadman, Edward S. Curtis and myself and others who were associated in the bloody venture of picturizing the Rubaiyat! It has been gratifying to find the press of the whole country ready to champion the artist’s cause.

When the artist forges his plowshare into a sword, so to speak, he does not always put up a mean fight.

What publisher would dare to rewrite a sonnet of John Keats or alter one chord of a Chopin ballade?

Creative art of a high order will become possible on the screen only when the rights of established, independent screen producers, such as Rex Ingram and Maurice Tourneur, are no longer interferred with and their work no longer mutilated or changed or added to by vandal hands. And art dramas, conceived and executed by masters of screen craft, cannot be turned out like sausages made by factory hands. A flavor of individuality and distinction of style cannot be preserved in machine-made melodramas—a drama that is passed from hand to hand and concocted by patchworkers and tinkerers.

A thousand times no! For it will always be cousin to the sausage, and be like all other—sausages.

The scenes of a master’s drama may have a subtle pictorial continuity and a power of suggestion quite like a melody that is lost when just one note is changed. And the public is the only test of what is eternally true or false. What right have two or three people to deprive millions of art lovers of enjoying an artist’s creation as it emerged from his workshop?

“The Rubaiyat” was my first picture and produced in spite of continual and infernal interferences. It has taught me several sad lessons, which I have endeavored in the above paragraphs to pass on to some of my fellow sufferers. It is the hope that I am fighting, to a certain extent, their battle that has given me the courage to continue, and that has prompted me to write this article. May such hubbubs eventually teach or inforce a decent regard for the rights of authors and directors and tend to make the existence of screen artisans more secure and soothing to the nerves.

FERDINAND EARLE.

---

☕Appreciate my work? Buy me a coffee! ☕

Transcribed Sources & Annotations over on the WMM Blog!

See the Timeline for Ferdinand P. Earle's Rubaiyat Adaptation

49 notes · View notes

pearwaldorf · 2 years

Text

[edit 12/27] Hey go reblog this instead thx

It’s a really fucking boring party. Phillip is here purely for lack of anything better to do, including sitting on his couch and binging Parks and Recreation, which he’s done three times this year already.

(Lyndie glared at him when he demurred yet again, but then softened.

“Babes, I know it’s been hard on you, but you have to get out there. Not in a find yourself a nice rebound way, although I do think it would be beneficial, but you have to get out and talk to people.”

“And who exactly am I going to talk to, love?” He was fine with Tim getting pretty much the entire friend group after the breakup initially, but it was real fucking depressing looking at his contacts and realizing there wasn’t anybody who wanted to hear from him.

“Somebody. Anybody. Not everybody in the fucking world is part of Tim’s circle.” Lyndie’s trying her best, bless her, but that’s what sisters (or close as) do, right? It’s not fair to her to be his one social lifeline.

“All right. For you.”

She beamed that damnable grin that makes everybody fall over themselves to do what she wants, him included, and kissed his cheek. “Thanks babes. You won’t regret this.”

“We’ll see.”)

It’s an exhibit opening, and now that Phillip’s looked at the art (pedestrian, derivative) and nibbled at the platters (Costco, of all things. Not that they’re bad, but absolutely not in keeping with the atmosphere), he’s taken his plastic glass of Three Buck Chuck to find a corner to people-watch.

In the back next to the one actually interesting sculpture, he nods to a man dressed in the most fascinatingly archaic suit. No, that’s not the right word. It’s like he bought all his clothes at one time and never bothered to replace them because they really don’t make them like they used to. They’re at least forty years out of style, but they fit well.

Phillip takes a sip of the wine. Oh god, he’d forgotten how awful this plonk is, not really being a person who frequents places where the quantity of alcohol is more desirable than the quality.

“I regret I don’t have a fine vintage to offer you, but this has to be better than whatever swill they’re providing.” The other man holds up a flask, smiling. He’s not exactly handsome—his eyes are too small and his ears stick out too much for that, but he has a sharp, curious demeanor that makes Phillip want to know more.

He takes the flask, ignoring how their fingers brush, and downs more than is probably polite. It’s whiskey of some sort, burning sweet on the way down.

“Thank you,” he says, handing it back. “It is very much an improvement.”

The man screws the lid back on, puts the flask back in his jacket pocket. “A fine bourbon, American of course. Certainly other countries produce it, but it never tastes quite right. Like a bagel made outside of New York.” His accent is something Phillip has heard but never actually encountered in person, almost parodic in its intensity. It’s fascinating.

“They do make bagels elsewhere. And they’re nothing like the ones in New York.” Phillip says, just to be a shit.

“Indeed, and I do not mean to impugn their quality. But I suppose we latch onto the examples we first encounter as the ideal.” He puts out his hand. “Benoit Blanc. If we’re going to have a conversation I suppose we should get a little more acquainted.”

“Phillip Owen.” The other man’s hand is warm, his grip assertive and confident.

“A pleasure, Mr. Owen.” It might be the whiskey, but Phillip swears Blanc’s voice is warmer, more friendly.

“I don’t mean to be presumptuous or rude, but your name does not strike me as particularly Southern.”

Instead of bristling in offense like Phillip expected, Blanc just smirks, a little reproving. “How quickly we forget history, Phillip.” His smile takes any sting there might have been from the words.

“Now that I’m to get a lecture it’s Phillip?” He keeps his voice light. This is probably the most interesting conversation he’s had in a long time, which is probably a bit sad when he thinks about it, but he’s a little buzzed from the whiskey and he’s enjoying himself much more than he thought he would tonight.

“Lecture is such a stuffy word. Call it a gentle reminder of things that should be more prominent in your memory.” Blanc’s kind of a shit too, and god help him, Phillip is into it.

“Then tell me what I should remember, Benoit,” he says, as gravely as he can.

The other man winces, like he’s physically pained. “I hate that name. By the love of whatever you consider holy, Blanc, please.”

Impulsively, he reaches for Blanc’s hand. “I’ll call you whatever you like if we get out this stuffy hellhole into a place with better liquor and a place to sit.” Is it forward? Absolutely. But it’s been a long time since he’s had anybody besides Lyndie to talk to, and he didn’t realize how much he missed it until now.

Blanc looks a bit surprised, but his mouth curls slow into a smile that might promise something more. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

#glass onion #benoit blanc #phillip glass onion #blanc x phillip

235 notes · View notes

tigerlyla-of-metinna · 1 year

Text

A Gathering on His Special Day (3)

Regis: Hael Ker'zaer Emhyr var Emreis! May each year bring you great health and the other some such well wishes humans give to their fellows.

Emhyr: *chuckles* That may be the most honest birthday greeting I ever receive.

Regis: Of course, we, Dettlaff and I, have more than words to lay at your feet.

Regis: I brewed this myself using grapes from Corvo Bianco and added my special blend of berries and spices.

Emhyr: Spiced wine? And you guarantee I will be pleased by the taste?

Regis: Certainly! I had the permission of the Duchess to borrow her sommelier Benoit to taste test it for me. I daresay he gave it his highest seal of approval, and it is more than fit for the imperial table.

Emhyr: Then I shall gladly accept this gift. Thank you, Regis.

Dettlaff: I, too, have something for you, Majesty.

Emhyr: This is... quite an adorable stuffed bunny-

Dettlaff: Emperor Hugs-a-lot.

Emhyr:..... I beg your pardon?

Dettlaff: His name.... is Emperor Hugs-a-lot. And may he protect you from bad dreams and lonely nights.

Emhyr:.... hmph. Then I'd better not hear from the guards or servants that the emperor sleeps with a st- with Emperor Hugs-a-lot on days you stand in for me.

Dettlaff: ... I shall resist the urge, Your Imperial Majesty.

Photos by @i-be-busy-witchering, my edits and story.

#emhyr var emreis #emhyr #emiel regis #regis #emiel regis rohellec terzieff godefroy #dettlaff #dettlaff van der eretein #witcher 3 wild hunt #the witcher 3 #the witcher #nilfgaard #virtual photography #TLylaedits/arts

40 notes · View notes

bymerlinsgreattits · 2 years

Text

kay, so i was starring at glass onion posters for a while while sick, as one does, and now i kinda wanna say something?

based on this photo alone, we can kinda tell who our dear benoit blanc is interested in and stuff? i’ll elaborate later.

Green: these bitches (non-derogatory?) can’t see miles at all. Birdys hat is so big, she’d have trouble seeing him even if she was turned towards him. And Whiskey? She’s so leaned back and relaxed, she’d break her neck if she tried looking at him, even then, Blanc would be in the way.

Yellow: they aren’t turned away that much, but does that change much? Peg would, much like Whiskey, have to look through Blanc to see miles, plus, she’s only here because of Birdy. Our politician lady, who’s name i totally recall, is sitting so close to this rich dude i can practically smell the lobbying, but also isn’t turned towards miles completely.

Orange: now, Duke is interesting. He is turned more towards Whiskey than miles, BUT! he could easily look past Blanc to look at the guy.

Red: of cause they know what’s up. their upper bodies are turned toward Miles soooo so much, though ‘Andi’ is almost pointing at him, even. compared to her, Blanc is just vaguely here (which he is, but still). ‘Andi’ is the one with direct beef with miles, after all.

Miles: i did not colour him in, as it seems he tried to colour himself out. he practically blends into his environment, accept for his head. he is uncomfortable and he deserves worse.

the doc is there.

all in all, great poster, good storytelling from the picture alone. can’t wait to see the spring and winter editions.

#glass onion #poster analysis i guess #i really liked this one #the colours are so good

13 notes · View notes

leviosally · 2 years

Note

Tell us about A Taste of Fire please! 😊

Hi Wolfie! Hope life is treatin' ya well!

A Taste of Fire is filthy little one-shot/missing scene I'm working on with @ajconstantine that takes place in the universe of her longer fic Temple of the Muses. TotM is a Good Omens human AU that takes place in Victorian times, featuring sex worker/courtesan Crowley and wealthy Earl of Eastgate Aziraphale.

Before they get together, Crowley spends his young life training to be a courtesan in France. Lucifer's character (who goes by Lucien in this fic) is the bordello owner and in spite of his personal rule not to get involved with his employees, he does develop a bit of a thing for Crowley.

For those following TotM, this fic is the missing scene after Lucien has secretly bid on Crowley's virginity, and he finds out about it and...yeah.

Here's a fun little edit we did together because I found this guy for Lucien's facecast, his name is Benoit Marechal, and he is...<drools>

And a little snippet of the fic!

“Come here, stable boy…don’t be shy. How about we put that pretty mouth to good use, and you show me what you’ve learned,” Lucien crooned, beckoning Crowley closer with the hand that still lazily clutched his champagne flute, while the other slid down to palm himself between his wide-spread legs.

Swallowing thickly, Crowley took a few uncertain steps forward. His mind was still trying to wrap itself around the idea that Lucien wanted him…had bid 600 francs—a staggering amount of money, more money than Crowley had seen in his entire life—for the right to…Crowley felt a flush flood his cheeks…

Oh fuck.

Crowley closed the short distance between them and stopped, awaiting instructions. He couldn’t help the way his eyes wandered, darting from the well-muscled planes of Lucien’s chest beneath his clothes and down further still to the prominent bulge in his trousers. Lucien lifted an eyebrow at him before flicking his fingers in a downward gesture, the corner of his mouth quirking as he raised his champagne to his lips. Obediently, Crowley dropped to his knees between Lucien’s legs. His hands weren’t about to wait for permission, already stroking reverently up his thighs as he looked up into the older man’s face. He watched raptly as Lucien thumbed open his own trouser buttons, revealing his half-hard cock and rolling his hips expectantly towards Crowley's mouth, which was already watering at the sight of him.

“My third rule,” Lucien grunted as Crowley leaned in, sucking just the tip of him eagerly into his mouth, “is that while I shall not pursue anything that is painful or otherwise distasteful to you,” Crowley moaned as he felt Lucien’s long fingers wind into his hair and tug, “Je préfère être en charge. Tu seras bon pour moi, oui?’ (I prefer to be in charge. You will be good for me, yes?)

(I haven't accuracy checked the French yet, so hopefully it's close)

Thank you for the ask, m'dear!! <3 <3 <3

#good omens #crowley #lucifer good omens #Temple of the Muses #badwolfbadwolf #ask games #levs answers #good omens au #good omens fan fiction

4 notes · View notes

rakshasingh · 1 year

Text

WWE Backlash 2023

WWE Backlash 2023 is an annual professional wrestling pay-per-view event produced by WWE, which has been held since 1999. The event is typically held in May and features matches between WWE superstars from Raw, SmackDown, and NXT.

WWE Backlash has been known to feature some of the most intense and memorable matches in WWE history. From high-flying ladder matches to brutal No Holds Barred contests, the event has consistently delivered exciting and entertaining wrestling action.

One of the most memorable moments in WWE Backlash history came in 2004, when Chris Benoit won the World Heavyweight Championship in a Triple Threat match against Triple H and Shawn Michaels. Benoit's victory was a moment of triumph for the Canadian wrestler and a highlight of his career.

In 2016, WWE Backlash was revived as a SmackDown exclusive event, and it has since become an important part of the WWE calendar. The event has featured matches such as the Last Man Standing match between AJ Styles and Shinsuke Nakamura in 2018 and the brutal Edge vs. Randy Orton match, dubbed as "The Greatest Wrestling Match Ever" in 2020. Bianca Belair made her debut on the NXT brand in 2016 and quickly became known for her incredible athleticism and strength. She is known for her signature hair whip, which she uses to take down her opponents in the ring. Bianca Belair is a rising star in WWE and a trailblazer for women in professional wrestling. Her incredible athleticism, magnetic personality, and inspiring story have made her a fan favorite and a role model for young girls and women around the world.

In 2021, Bad Bunny made his professional wrestling debut as part of WWE's WrestleMania 37 event, where he teamed up with Damian Priest to take on The Miz and John Morrison in a tag team match. His performance was widely praised by fans and critics, and he has since made several more appearances on WWE programming.

Overall, Bad Bunny is a multi-talented artist who has made a significant impact on the worlds of music, fashion, and entertainment. His unique style and socially conscious lyrics have helped him become one of the most popular and influential artists of his generation, and he shows no signs of slowing down anytime soon.

Seth Rollins is a professional wrestler currently signed to WWE, where he has been one of the company's top stars for several years. Born Colby Daniel Lopez in 1986, Rollins grew up in Iowa and began his wrestling career on the independent circuit under the name Tyler Black.

Seth Rolins gained national attention in 2010 as a member of the independent wrestling promotion Ring of Honor, where he became the ROH World Champion. In 2011, he signed with WWE and was assigned to its developmental territory, Florida Championship Wrestling (FCW).

The 2021 edition of WWE Backlash is set to take place on May 16 at the WWE ThunderDome in the Yuengling Center in Tampa, Florida. The event will feature matches such as the WWE Championship match between Bobby Lashley and Drew McIntyre and the SmackDown Women's Championship match between Bianca Belair and Bayley.

WWE Backlash 2021 is expected to be a thrilling event, with some of WWE's top superstars putting their titles on the line. With the event taking place in the state-of-the-art WWE ThunderDome, fans can expect a high-quality production, complete with pyrotechnics, special effects, and some of the best wrestling action around.

In conclusion, WWE Backlash is an exciting event that has been an important part of WWE's history for over two decades. With some of the most thrilling matches and moments in WWE history taking place at the event, WWE fans can always expect an action-packed and entertaining show. The 2021 edition of WWE Backlash is set to be no exception, with some of WWE's top superstars set to compete in high-stakes matches.

1 note · View note

xtruss · 2 years

Text

Movies: Winter Movies Preview! Twelve Must See Films

Tilda Swinton plays both a mother and a daughter, Naomi Ackie portrays Whitney Houston, Damien Chazelle reimagines nineteen-twenties Hollywood, and more.

— By Richard Brody | November 4, 2022 | The New Yorker

Illustration By Tomi Um

Filmmakers’ real-life stories are fictionalized in some noteworthy new movies, including “The Inspection” (Nov. 18), written and directed by Elegance Bratton. It’s the drama of a homeless gay man (Jeremy Pope) who, facing rejection from his devoutly religious mother (Gabrielle Union), joins the Marines and confronts violent persecution during basic training. Steven Spielberg considers his own childhood in “The Fabelmans” (Nov. 11); Gabriel LaBelle plays young Sammy Fabelman, a budding filmmaker, with Paul Dano as the boy’s father and Michelle Williams as his mother. In “The Eternal Daughter” (Dec. 2), Joanna Hogg returns to characters from her two “Souvenir” movies, a filmmaker named Julia and her mother, Rosalind; in the new film Tilda Swinton plays both women, whose relationship is tested by Julia’s plan to film Rosalind—and by a visitation from a ghost.

Musicals appear in many forms, starting with Kasi Lemmons’s “I Wanna Dance with Somebody” (Dec. 21), a bio-pic about Whitney Houston, starring Naomi Ackie; Stanley Tucci plays the record producer Clive Davis. Damien Chazelle’s new film, “Babylon” (Dec. 23), is a cinema-centric fantasy, set in nineteen-twenties Hollywood, in the early days of talking pictures. It stars Diego Calva and Margot Robbie as aspiring actors and Brad Pitt as a famous one. Steven Soderbergh returns to direct “Magic Mike’s Last Dance” (Feb. 10), the third film in the series, again starring Channing Tatum.

It’s good news that there are documentaries featured prominently amid the season’s high-profile releases. In Laura Poitras’s “All the Beauty and the Bloodshed” (Nov. 23), the photographer Nan Goldin details her addiction to OxyContin and her quest to hold the Sackler family—owners of the drug’s manufacturer, Purdue Pharma—accountable for the opioid crisis. In “Framing Agnes” (Dec. 2), the director Chase Joynt brings to light U.C.L.A.’s previously unpublished archive of interviews with trans people, incorporating dramatic reënactments of some discussions.

Literary adaptations are inevitable during awards season. This year’s batch includes Noah Baumbach’s “White Noise” (Nov. 25), based on Don DeLillo’s 1985 satire about academia, family life, consumerism, and industrial catastrophe; Adam Driver and Greta Gerwig star. “Women Talking” (Dec. 2), Sarah Polley’s adaptation of Miriam Toews’s 2018 novel, is set in a religious community where women who are victims of abuse organize in resistance; the cast includes Rooney Mara, Jessie Buckley, and Frances McDormand.

As ever, fantasies abound, whether freely imaginary, tethered to history, or set in playlands in between. “Glass Onion” (Nov. 23), Rian Johnson’s sequel to “Knives Out,” features the earlier film’s chewily accented detective, Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig), on the trace of a killer on the private island of a billionaire (Edward Norton). “Avatar: The Way of Water” (Dec. 16), James Cameron’s long-anticipated sequel, is centered on the futuristic family life of the American soldier Jake Sully (Sam Worthington) and the Na’vi huntress Neytiri (Zoe Saldaña) on the planet Pandora. ♦

— Published in the print edition of the November 14, 2022, issue, with the headline “Winter Preview.”

0 notes

bookersebastien · 4 years

Text

ahskfjsj he's gonna shoot the naked soldiers at the lake, this man has my full respect

#matthias schoenaerts #suite francaise lb #suite francaise #usrbkr lb #idk what the villagers name is but sir 👏👏#edit: his name is benoit

13 notes · View notes

cherryplasmids · 4 years

Text

☆ not today, but one day ☆

pairing: donny donowitz x reader fandom: inglourious basterds—operation kino doesn’t exist anon requested: Hello, I have loved all of your Donny Donowitz stories!! If you are taking requests, could you write a fluffy and/or angsty post fight piece? Thank you!! notes: mentions hiding jewish children — check out my other works; masterlist

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Moving to an occupied France with Donny at the height of the world war defied your expectations. Not even in your wildest dreams did you want to be near such chaos. Unfortunately, your fiancé did. He enthusiastically signed up to be a Basterd alongside his best friend, Aldo Raine, which meant he would be leaving the U.S to help end the war. Donny desperately wanted you to join him in France. But downtown Boston had factories opening up at a rapid pace, ensuring job security for you and money for the future. But Donny is an unrelenting man. His ceaseless begging eventually wore you down. Within a few months, you were on a plane heading to France with the rest of the Basterds.

Luckily, one of Aldo's informants owned a bakery near their secret location. The owner of the bakery, Benoit, opened a job up for you immediately. You would help serve customers while being a spy. All you would have to do is act ditzy and fawn over officers to gain information. Although the act disgusted you, it was simple enough. Turns out, officers are more willing to boast about their exploits as long as you smile and flirt. You didn't have to do much before they began talking your ear off.

Soon enough, though, the seemingly easy job turned for the worst. Benoit began hiding Jewish children. Of course, you kept a tight lip about the situation and helped him care for the orphaned girls while he cared for the boys. The issue revolved around the officers. They had suspicions of Benoit right in the beginning and began ransacking the bakery almost every day. You and Benoit spent more time cleaning up the place than actually baking or making a profit. After a few months, Benoit completely disappeared. With him gone, you were left in charge of both the bakery and the children.

The responsibilities thrust upon you slowly ate at you. The only time you felt some inkling of normalcy was with Donny. However, he too went M.I.A.

The day he came back to you with blood covering his bat and a smile adorning his lips, you were fuming. As soon as he went to hug you, you snapped. As a result, a verbal argument began and lasted for almost an hour. 80% of the fight did not make any sense. You did more crying than anything else. But your anger and fear caused incoherent thoughts to be screamed. Once you realized you weren't getting your message through, you stormed off to cool down.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It's nighttime, about 2 hours after the argument, when Donny decides to talk. You're in the kitchen, smoking Gauloises and staring out the window. You don't make any moves to acknowledge him when he calls out to you. Instead, you shift in the window nook and twirl the lit cigarette between your lips. A moment of silence passes before you hear the floorboards creak under his heavy boots. He pulls out a chair from the nearby table and sits down. That's when you look at him. He folds his hands on top of the table and opens his mouth to speak. You lazily watch him, both disinterested and irritated that’s he’s even here. When you told him you wanted space, you meant for the entire night. You shouldn't be surprised, though. After all, Donny is a clingy man. You're just a little amazed he lasted this long, especially after being gone for so long.

He starts off by saying your name in a gentle tone before cutting himself off. Shaking his head, he tries to start again. But after several attempts at forming a coherent thought, he gets frustrated enough to make moves to leave.

You take pity on him and remove the cigarette from your lips. "How was the trip?"

"Good. Smithson shot his foot accidentally. We got delayed a bit, but still had a good time."

"Scalp anyone?"

Donny puffs out his chest in pride. "Of course! 23 scalps in the bag. I got the most."

A little smirk tugs at your lips. "Good boy."

Another beat of silence passes. He shifts in his seat and his leg begins to bounce. "I'm sorry, doll. I just act without thinking sometimes. You know that."

You turn to him. “I do, but you can’t keep using that as an excuse.”

“I’m not trying to—“

Your sharp glare shuts him downs. “I’m constantly on edge, Donny. With the bakery being investigated almost daily, I’m drowning in fear. I don’t want to the possibility of you being dead running amok in my head.”

His eyes steel and his hands clench into a fist. “Yeah because what I do is a damn cakewalk.”

“I never said that, so don’t go around twisting my words.” You sigh deeply and inhale smoke from the cigarette. “Three weeks, Donny. Three damn weeks of wondering whether or not you're dead. Do you know what that does to someone?” You press the cigarette head onto the ashtray, watching the embers fizz out.

Donny reaches out and grabs both of your hands. His thumbs begin to caress your skin in circular motions. The slight irritation and sadness in your chest simmers down as a result.

“I'm sorry, doll. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

Tears brim at your lower lashes. Donny gets up from his seat to console you. His burly arms blanket you, securing you in safety you haven’t felt in a long time.

Your tears fall freely onto his white tank top. You clench onto him as you murmur to him. “I’m so scared, Don.”

He squeezes you, attempting to convey his reassurance. “Let us win the war, baby. Then we’ll go back to Boston and have the biggest wedding ever. Pop-out a few kids and retire. We’ll be safe and happy, just like how we were before the war.”

You sniffle and nod, muttering some words he can’t quite hear. “Come on, doll. Let’s get you to bed.”He picks you up in bridal style and begins walking toward your shared bedroom.

You trust Donny's words. He’ll win the war—tear down the regime right from the top. It’ll take some time but until then, you got to hold on. Save yourself from spiraling for the sake of yourself and the children under your protection.

Safety and comfort will come soon. It might not be today or tomorrow, but one day. That hope alone will keep you going.

────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

word count: 1,077 published: june 16, 2020 edited: n/a

#donny #Donny Donowitz #sgt donny donowitz #donny donowitz fanfiction #donny donowitz x reader #donny donowitz imagine #inglorious basterds #inglourious basterds imagine #inglourious basterds x reader #inglourious basterds fanfiction #imagine #x reader #fanfiction

109 notes · View notes