#evidently it's impossible to reconcile every facet
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The ways Zeus is characterised in ancient sources is ~ fascinating ~ to me.
The overbearing patriarch of the Iliad who keeps his godly family in check with constant threats of abuse and domestic violence. The conciliatory diplomat of the Odyssey, acquiescent to the desires and honours of his fellow deities. The ideal king of the Theogony, commonly elected, virtuous alloter of good and evil. The frightened tyrant, the cruel tormentor of Prometheus Bound. The all-encompassing orphic entity, who swallowed down and brought forth and is the entirety of the cosmos. The enigmatic, ambivalent, and sometimes undignified figure who refuses to appear on stage. The embodiment of righteousness, of majesty, the ultimate good, the promoter and dispenser of justice, the adulterer, the rapist, the upholder of oaths who perjures himself in the name of "love".
Above all the mastermind, the constant plotter, whose plan and will [ÎÎšá˝¸Ď Î˛ÎżĎ
ΝΎ] permeate greek literature from epic to philosophy, whether it be synonymous with fate or not.
This is why I generally dislike simplistic takes on him. Sure, almost any way you choose to characterise him will probably have a sourced basis, his multifaceted "identity" almost guarantees it. But the massive loss of complexity is so disappointing imo.
#zeus#evidently it's impossible to reconcile every facet#nor would I want to see a rapist who embodies goodness and virtue#but maybe something other than cartoonish villain or sex joke or literally Jesus Christ#still I can understand he can be a very difficult character to portray#there's as many dimensions to him as the are conceptions of power#greek mythology#greek myths#greek gods#tagamemnon#hellenic deities
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We write our own destiny now
A Sylvie x Loki fanfiction - set on the train in the middle of Episode 3. Enjoy!
The pungent vapor of port with surprisingly fruity undertones hit Sylvieâs senses first, and her nostrils flared.Â
The Asgardian ballad was on the heels of the port, and Sylvie was jolted out of her slumber by music that stirred long-buried feelings deep in her soul; music of a time she could barely remember but which was so viscerally ingrained she couldnât help but be transfixed instantly.Â
âI canât sleep in a place like this.â - she had told him.
âYou canât sleep on a train?â
âNo. I canât sleep around untrustworthy people.â
âOh, right, that me?â
Sylvie had slept like a baby, through the chaos of the party that had kicked up on a train to the end of the world. She felt energetic, vital, and as she blinked away the muddied haze of sleep and focused her gaze on him, she felt something else - something which she couldnât quite put words to yet.Â
The romantic narcissist had made himself the life of the party of course. Arrogant, evidently inebriated, he flaunted his charm and his physicality with devastating ease. He was the day to Sylvieâs night, the yin to her yang, flamboyant and poetic and luxurious where Sylvie met him with fierce cunning and strategy and sinewy flexibility. Side by side there was nothing that was missing. They were a complete whole. And anyone who disagreed knew not what it was to see and need and embrace and adore every facet of the dark and the light of the experience of being alive.
This intuitive realisation settled over Sylvie calmly in the second before her cerulean eyes locked with his. Together with the decision that she would never be beholden to or dependent on this impossibly intriguing man. And with the decision that she wanted, with every fibre of her being, to kiss his warm mouth, to run her hands through his silky mass of ebony curls, to tangle their strong, athletic limbs and unite the two diametric opposites to make the whole and not resurface until for a brief moment the universe sang with a unity of the strands of identity.
The raucous chorus had ended and Loki was now eagerly shushing the equally tipsy crowd. Sylvie felt a pang of alarm to see that he had evidently long lost the careful focus that had been maintaining the illusion of the guardsâ uniform that had been their cover. Instead he stood in that hateful uniform of the omniscient fascists that Sylvie had spent her life running from. It would take a lot to freely admit it, but it made Sylvie burn with a profound sorrow to see Loki trussed up in their ugly, faceless shirt and trousers, not to mention branded like an animal with his jacket which could not help but remind him, and Sylvie, anyone and everyone, that he was no more than a âVariantâ - one among a herd of cattle to be categorized with letters and a number, before being disposed of. Sylvie knew all too well what it felt like to be taken like a lamb to the slaughterhouse of the timekeepers: that one fateful encounter and her impossible escape were scorched into her mind and her drive as though by a branding iron.
But all that pain and fury and loss seemed to dissipate like fluffy clouds in the summer sky as her eyes met Lokiâs, and his singing the words of a long-lost and nearly forgotten home pierced her heart and soul.
âOn mountains darkened by the storms,â he sang, full of heart, in the haunting language only they on this accursed moon understood.
âIâm wandering alone.â
He leaned on the bar - their gazes had only met for a moment and now he lowered his modestly, and like a reflex Sylvie understood. He felt the same way. He couldnât reconcile those feelings. Of course he did, of course he couldnât. The connection between them seemed to run like the finest of threads, exquisitely sensitive to pulling from either end. Sylvie pulled the thread. She kept her eyes locked on Lokiâs down-turned ones. He sensed the invisible action. His eyes rose to meet hers and stayed there.
âOver glaciers Iâm pushing on...â Loki continued and pain reverberated between the two - the pain of the forever misunderstood sailors without a destination, who lived only by the code: âMischief, thou art afoot. Take what course thou wilt!â.Â
Lokiâs chin tilted upwards almost imperceptibly and Sylvie instinctively mirrored him.
âThe fair maiden is in the apple orchard...â - his voice was softer now and suddenly the world seemed to shrink to just the two of them, and an intense heat, fire on fire, kindled between them. Loki seemed almost steadied by the influence of the alcohol, releasing his inhibitions, but Sylvie couldnât help raise her eyebrows the smallest bit as she realised the potency of that fire.
âAnd sheâs singingâŚâ He was not as immune to the fire as Sylvie had suspected, rendered near breathless. Yet the ending to the verse was poignantly beautiful and clear:
âWhen will you come home?â
Through the glass roof of the train to the end of the world, the sun of this unknown galaxy streamed onto Lokiâs face, the purple vapors of the air lighting his ethereal features with a lilac glow and causing the tears in his sea-green eyes to shine ever so slightly. Sylvieâs tears were rendered invisible in the shadows of the alcove she was watching him from - but they were no less real.
This was not lust, Sylvie realized, again with one of those bizarrely calm flashes of intuition. Lust was angry and ran in a straight line - some dry and humorless part of Sylvieâs mind pulled up the image of the linear, unchanging path of destiny that the timekeepers declared as divine.
âLove is hate.â
Lust was duplicitous and not to trust and everything that Sylvie and Loki had perceived themselves to be their entire lives. Everything that the timekeepers wanted them to be.
âNothing everâŚâ
âReal.â
âHmm.â
âLove is mischief.â
There would be time, Sylvie realized, as she slowly rose from her seat and made her way over to Loki, for argument and turmoil. There would be time, she realized, as he blathered on, in his hedonistic, utterly charming way about snacks and figgy ports, for conflict and courage. There would be time, she realized, as she moved closer to his scent of sweat and warmth and he to hers of leather and pine, for revelations and ultimatums. There would be time for the end of one world and the beginning of the next, for twists and turns and there would be time for chaos. Oh, there would always be time for chaos.
âLove is a dagger.
Itâs a weapon to be wielded far away or up close.
You can see yourself in it.
Itâs beautiful until it makes you bleed.
But ultimately when you reach for itâŚ
It isnât real.â
And as the universe contracted down to Lokiâs large, soft hand ever-so-gently tilting her chin up to his own, as his eyes held hers, in that split second Sylvie realized that this was love - for the first time in their lives, this was trust. Whatever either of them had thought up until now, love and trust were possible and they were real.
âWe write our own destiny now.â Loki murmured as his lips collided with hers, her hands threaded through his curls and his through hers, they molded their bodies into one another and they reveled in the chaos they had made.
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The really great thing about allowing Dick and Jason to have a good relationship before A Death in the Family IMO, is that it opens up sooooo many more possibilities for AFTER Jasonâs return.
For example:
Imagine a scenario where Bruce is gone for a week or so, the ever so useful âthere was an offworld mission or somethingâ excuse will do. And during that time, Dick and Jason are patrolling and working together....and they have an encounter with a particularly nasty villain or serial killer or whatever you want to go with. The bottom line is something happens during that particular adventure of theirs that leaves them shaken enough that they agree not to tell Bruce about it (believing the guy is dead or something), and then they try and put it behind them and never speak of it again.
Except then cut to a few years later, after Jason has come back but before heâs reconciled with the family, things are still strained and tense when their paths so much as cross, but with added angst because an actual brotherly bond torn asunder by death, trauma and lots of changes gives you way more fodder to work with IMO than the singular facet of Dick feeling guilty for not knowing Jason better - I mean, you have to at least admit that does limit your options considerably, in terms of their interactions, BUT I DIGRESS.
But anyway, Jason doesnât have anything against Dick in the way he does against Bruce, other than accepting Tim into the fold (which he does understand in a way, because its not all that different from when Dick accepted him into the family and Robin role despite having plenty of legitimate reasons to be a lot more reticent about that).....but they avoid each other because its just kinda painful, the fact that they donât KNOW each other anymore, not the way they used to understand each other in ways even Bruce couldnât always follow or understand. Plus Jasonâs attack on Tim, even leaning on the Pit madness as an altered state of mind mitigating circumstance....like, thatâs still a hard thing to get past, one brother being like âHey, lets do movie night tomorrow and totes just skip over the awkwardness of me just coming from hanging out with Tim who still has bandages on account of you trying to kill him the other dayâ.....its not the easiest thing to navigate, yeah?Â
And the fact that while Jason does understand its not fair to expect Dick to have like, iced out this kid he didnât go seeking out or anything, just for the sake of Jasonâs memory.....that understanding comes and goes with how rational or not heâs feeling any particular day, because he GETS it, but that doesnât mean he has to like it and he is after all only nineteen, and capable of bouts of pettiness, lol.
So even without Dick barely knowing Jason or Jason hating or resenting Dick, thereâs still plenty of roadblocks in the way of an easy brotherly reunion, plenty of understandable and valid emotions and priorities and choices that make everything a confusing mess and create conflicts of interest and just a general miasma of uncertainty where its like, even though they miss each other and would love to get back their sibling bond, they donât even know where to begin trying to go about that, you know? And throw in the state of affairs between Bruce and Jason still, which can be summed up as picture the Cold War, but now when you picture âColdâ think âIce Ageâ and youâre almost there.
Like. That is the Mt. Saint Helens of roadblocks right there. A big ass volcano sitting in the middle of the road and just cuz its dormant now doesnât mean that it couldnât at any minute erupt and blow its top and destroy everything within a several hundred mile radius, and thatâs just before Bruce and Jason REALLY get steamed, like, thatâs just their warm-up.
So. Yâknow. Difficulties. They abound.
But now throw in secrets from the time before Jason died that only the two of them know and they never told anyone else, and adventures they had when it was just the two of them, Jason visiting Dick in Bludhaven or Dick enabling Jason in playing hooky in Gotham because at that time Dick rotates methods of pissing Bruce off and thatâs his go-to move for Tuesdays, and crimes they solved together like Dick was working on an investigation and let Jason weigh in to practice his deductive reasoning without Bruce and thus impress him with how much heâs improved.Â
(My personal headcanon of brotherly advice Dick imparts to Jason on how to deal with Bruce is him telling Jason âwhen dealing with a man who thinks holding impossible expectations IS taking it easy on someone, he doesnât understand the question, can you repeat it please....like, in that case thereâs no shame in stacking the deck a little, whenever thatâs possible.â)
Anyway, point being.....all you really need is one singular bad guy that only Dick and Jason faced, together, when they were younger. Someone particularly nasty or sadistic, enough to disturb even them despite how much theyâve seen and lived. And who for whatever reason, both of them believed to be gone for good, maybe they thought he fell off a cliff into a conveniently placed body of water where no body could be found or blah blah blah look youâre smart cookies, you get it.
Take those few simple ingredients, chuck them in a metaphorical bowl and stir them all together and then leave on low heat to simmer.....
And voila. Just like that, you have a ready-made situation that forces Dick and Jason, specifically, to work together despite how tense and fractured things are between them, and needing to find a way to repair their brotherly bond and figure out how to work together the way they used to.......thanks to everyoneâs favorite Tropey McTroperson wherein a villain most foul, long believed dead, seems to be back and up to his old villainy.....and only those two who faced him before know how to stop him.....and despite all the reasons they come up with in their heads for why teaming up together now is just a recipe for disaster and doomed to failure, this is on them.Â
They were the ones who stopped this guy before, they were the ones who mistakenly believed he was dead and the threat he posed was gone for good.....which makes his dastardly return....dun dun dun.....unfinished business for them. Its personal.Â
All the completely valid, well-reasoned and justifiable arguments for why its absolutely bonkers for them to try and make like the Dukes of Hazzard on this case as if theyâre not at least a little bit miffed at each other for various things involving killing certain people and not killing certain people and trying to kill certain people and being totally unreasonable about the trying to kill certain people.....none of that is enough to get in the way of them doing their best to put all that aside for now and team up to stop this guy for good, the way they should have the first time.
Because letâs face it. One of the definitive areas of common ground that Dick and Jason share is when things are personal....they take it VERY personally. And when they feel responsible for something, like, you could get God on the phone to personally deliver absolution and assure them it wasnât their fault, and theyâd still be like âLOL yeah, okay, thatâs a good one âGod.â Didnât know all-knowing deities could be super hella wrong about things but hey, everyoneâs allowed an off day I guess.â
Anyway.
Two brothers estranged due to extreme circumstances, trauma, loss, grief, blame, the completely unreasonable and frankly just rude passage of time, and assorted other reasons ranging from âyou stole my favorite weapon-Bruce-definitely-didnt-know-I-had-and-kept-as-a-souvenir when I was fourteen and you STILL havenât given it backâ to âyou canât just shoot someone as your way of ending an uncomfortable conversation, Jasonâ......
But force them together via external situations or shared goals, and you have the perfect excuse to sidestep a lot of the more impossible to navigate conflicts born of comic book writers who donât freaking know how to CHILL when piling on the family dysfunction......and engineer a situation where they pretty much HAVE to retrace previous footsteps, comb their memories for every detail they can recall about that case and in the process remember how close they were then, fall back into old patterns and rhythms while working together....and various other things that give you everything you need to transplant them mentally and emotionally to a time before all those conflicts and problems created by other people, not them, when things were....better.Â
While through the mere fact theyâre successfully able to fall back into old habits and patterns of working together at all.....you can put them face to face with evidence that despite how much theyâve both changed and everything thatâs come between them, they are still fundamentally the same people they always were, and the shared experiences and common ground and all of that which enabled them to become brothers in the first place....its all still there, still able to be brought back out and dusted off and then used to forge a new brother bond that takes into account the ways theyâve changed since they last truly knew each other.
And none of that erases or solves the various complications and conflicts and issues that do still exist in the present, because of everything thatâs happened in the past few years and the things theyâve all done.....BUT, it allows for Dick and Jason at least to rebuild or find a new, sturdy foundation on which to stand and plant themselves before wading back into all of that.....so at least now they do so with firmer footing, and with a clear direction and goal in mind.....navigating the emotional minefield from their respect opposing sides.....and aiming to meet somewhere in the middle.
And then with one family bond rejuvenated, revitalized and consciously reaffirmed by both of them......then its that much easier to turn their attentions to the rest of the family, one by one, and repair or forge those bonds through a concerted effort....not just Jason on the outside looking in, or members of the family on the inside looking out at him like heâs a poor, lost soul they need to save (I canât help but picture Jason upchucking at the very thought, eww, how dare they)......but rather, a mix of both. Jason making his way back into the family via walking side by side with an ally on the inside who is still keeping pace with him so they can present a united front while they work towards a common goal they both want.....a family that acts like a family instead of like.....idk, yâknow, that thing they act like in the comics thatâs called âa familyâ but also, they all hate each other and wish everyone else would die except for the times when they forget the others even exist at all.
Anyway. That of course, is just one angle that can be taken with them, out of the many possibilities that arise just from letting them have a good relationship before Jason died.....and all the shared history, in-jokes, secrets, camaraderie, grief, etc that comes with that.
My point is just.....I talk a lot rant a lot about the fanon and fic tendency to paint them as having barely known each other back then and with it largely blamed on Dick having been a stand-offish asshole because he has a chip on his shoulder named Bruce and its not a chip at all its actually Mt. Everest, yup, the whole dang mountain, yetis and all.......
And then I kinda just....keep it there on that and how much it bugs, because, yâknow. It bugs.
BUT.
In keeping tunnel-vision locked on that and nothing else, Iâve never really expanded on the other byproduct of this fanon tendency that I think is worth considering:
And thatâs the fact that this angle, this story? The one where Dick was a douche and Jason doesnât really like him because of that until Dick apologizes for being a douche back then and begs for a second chance to do better, etc, etc? Its been told. Literally hundreds of fic writers have written that story by this point, and in the process limited...confined themselves, to this one singular possible dynamic between Dick and Jason when the thing is, like....thatâs pretty much the ONLY story and angle that can result from Dick and Jason barely having a relationship before he died.....basically just various executions of acknowledging their previous lack of a relationship, assigning blame, making apologies and granting forgiveness, and then from there building a relationship from scratch.Â
Obviously, people come up with unique spins on this all the time, Iâm not saying the stories that do this are all exactly the same....just that thereâs an innate ceiling to that particular premise, because when that specific dynamic of âno relationship really existed beforeâ is your one and only starting point......thereâs only so many places you can go from that, and wind up in the present where you then proceed to have them make a relationship for the first time.
BUT. But but but but but.
The second you allow for the possibility that Dick and Jason DID have a relationship before ADITF, and it just happened largely âoffscreenâ due to the fact that no solo Nightwing or Robin titles existed back then so there was nowhere to showcase just the two of them together......
You open up like.....so many more possibilities and angles and avenues and directions.
Because the thing is, yâknow how so many people in fandom pride themselves on not feeling constrained by canon, or better yet, speak fondly about the idea of just taking a flamethrower to the whole damn thing and cackling maniacally while shouting âThis oneâs for Bruce/Dick/Jason/Tim/Cass/whomever your fave fam member of choice might beâ?
Well. I mean. *spreads hands*
The second you flip the switch from âDick and Jason barely knew each other and mostly didnât like each other, this is the only canon that exists despite the fact that we just made it up because we could and canon can suck itâ.....to.....âDick and Jason did have a relationship and were close before Jasonâs death, its just we never saw it develop on the page due to logistical constraintsâ......
Suddenly.....you have THREE WHOLE YEARS of possible interaction that you can literally cram full of WHATEVER YOU WANT, and canon canât say a damn thing about it because its Schrodingerâs Adventures of Nightwing and Little Wing......without any canon viewing point set up to observe these interactions and thus force them into a singular form that you either like or you hate and set on fire.....those Adventures can look like aaaaaaaaaaaanything you want, and canon can kiss your patootie if it doesnât like it!
Its three whole years of âlost family historyâ just waiting to be mined for all kinds of treasure, and you can unlock it in any number of ways once Jason returns, to any number of potential end points.
They could have faced villains together just by themselves during that time, they could have teamed up on investigations. They could have had sleepovers, Dick could have helped him cram for tests or covered for him when he just needed to take a mental health day because dealing with Gothamâs upper class can be exhausting and he doesnât know how to explain that to Bruce in a way that wonât just lead to Bruce saying âI know, I get it, I hate it tooâ even though the ways in which its exhausting to Bruce and the ways its exhausting to Jason are not the same and not interchangeable.....but he doesnât have to explain that to Dick, because Dick is closer to an understanding of it, heâs been there for a version of that himself, and they were assholes to him because of his lower class and unorthodox upbringing too.
You could have Jason tagging along on various official or unofficial Titans missions or just meet-ups, the way Jason teamed up with them for the Brother Blood story without Bruce ever knowing. Dickâs kid brother that nobody minded him bringing because they all adored him, and thus just by having him and Dick get along, you open the door to Jason having established dynamics and history with any number of Dickâs friends, allowing for a wide range of potential reactions to Jason and his Red Hood persona after he comes back.
You could have Jason being really invested in his brotherâs relationship in Kori because he thinks Kori is just the fucking coolest, or you can have Jason secretly shipping his brother and Babs and thinking theyâd be a much better match but keeping quiet about his opinion as long as Dickâs happy with Kori. You could have Jason panicked and turning to Dick for help and advice the first time he asks a date to one of his schoolâs formal dances, because heâs pretty sure heâd be able to provide actual proof that spontaneous human combustion IS possible, if he had to ask Bruce for romantic advice, like, aside from the fact that heâs seen flies trapped in amber whose relationships appear to advance at a faster pace than Bruceâs does with Selina, thatâs his DAD, eww, he canât ask his DAD to fill him in on whatâs normal to expect and likely to be expected of him on this kind of/level of dating, but Dick? He can go to Dick for that, and imagine the adorbs potential.Â
And the likelihood of various Titans coming up with the flimsiest of excuses to keep popping into the room in order to spy on the adorbs-ness, and the literal natural disaster that is the combination of Wally, Roy, Garth, Gar and Joey all trying to be âhelpfulâ and offer their own dating tips to Jason, while Donna and Lilith kick back with some popcorn while taking shots at the various boysâ expertise and credentials in this matter, if theyâre gonna be offering advice to an impressionable young teen who doesnât deserve to be saddled with having to learn from THEIR mistakes.
And on and on and on. Three whole years you can fill with any manner of adventures, secrets, shared stories, confessed ambitions and hopes and dreams for the future, commiserating on the parts of growing up in the spotlight in Gotham that Bruce just canât relate to, sharing things from their pasts that theyâve never even told Bruce about purely because there are some things that are just easier to tell or talk about with a sibling close to your age than to your father.
But you see what Iâm saying? Rounding Dick and Jasonâs early relationship down to the barest bones until its practically being non-existent......that makes for a paragraph or at most a chapter dedicated to covering that ground, something that everyone pretty much expects to pop up in a story in order to address that history they have, or lack there of. And thus its never really a surprise to see it, thereâs not a ton to take away from it, and it oftentimes ends up kinda just being filler despite even the best writersâ best attempts to make it engaging.....because thereâs just not a lot to say about a relationship whose defining aspect is it didnât really exist, and Iâm pretty sure most writers would love to simply skip past that entirely and not even bother addressing it because it FEELS like writing filler a lot of times, I imagine. But at the same time, you kinda HAVE to include it and canât really come up with a way to just leave it out entirely, without having a gaping hole in the meat of your actual story that explains how Dick and Jason got from there to here. Its a part of the story that everybody already knows, or expects.....but still demands being included, because canon just skipped over that entirely so thereâs nothing from canon to even reference when shifting Dick and Jason into the kind of dynamic you want them to have or grow after his return.
And so its a paragraph or two paragraphs or a whole chapter that nobody really ever wants to write, because thereâs not a whole lot of new ground to cover with it, and its kinda a cause for resentment, being stuck having to include it in every story covering Jasonâs return anyway, even though thereâs only limited ways you can stretch and exercise your creativity and expand on that particular angle.
But with Dick and Jason having an actual relationship pre-ADITF that is filled with nothing but whatever you choose to fill it with, whenever you feel like delving into it or dusting off an old memory or vacation or want to reveal some long-buried secret only the two of them know.....the skyâs the limit. Instead of that standard stock paragraph/chapter rehashing the take on that particular story that everyone already knows but narrative structure forces everyone to shoehorn in somewhere anyway.....thereâs more than enough in those three lost/secret years of family history, especially specific to Dick and Jason, to serve as the basis for entire fics exploring that time, digging up secrets or mysteries that originated in that time, reminiscing about that time or diving back into existing dynamics with people Jason met through Dick during that time without having to write Jason meeting them or only getting to know them for the first time as an adult.
(Omggggggg, imagine a story thatâs just Dick and Jason and Uncle Clark, or Dick and Jason and Aunt Diana, and like, Bruce is like I GO OUT OF TOWN FOR ONE NIGHT AND YOU SOMEHOW END UP WITH MY KIDS HELPING YOU FIGHT AN ALIEN/DEMON INVASION ON SOME OTHER PLANET/DIMENSION??? WHAT THE HELL!)
In conclusion, you hate canon and how much it fucks with the Batfamily? Totally with you. But this is the one period in these charactersâ lives where canon doesnât actually weigh you down or cage you in if you donât want it to....instead it gives you the gift of being whatever the hell you want it to be, just so long as you make sure everyone ends where they need to be by the time ADITF happens. (Assuming you donât just end up going full AU by that point since thereâs no law saying Jason HAS to die or else the DC universe will destabilize and implode in upon itself).
Anyway, Iâve waxed poetic about this long enough, I think, and without a single line of poetry to show for it, but thatâs for the best. Me to poetry is like a butcher to a carcass, but only if this particular butcher is very bad at his job and always makes a mess everywhere, and it just never ends well for anybody.
And now, as usual, I end an overly long post that exhausted my brain cells and made me sputter to a stop just before I come up with an ending to the post that actually makes sense and isnât just me going, hey you know what, maybe there is something to be said after all for the Sopranosâ sty -Â
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Sundance 2021: Days 6 & 7
Films: 5 Best Film of the Day(s): Users
All Light, Everywhere: In 2015, during the riots and rebellion in the immediate aftermath of the Freddy Gray killing by local police, the Baltimore Police department agreed with a private entrepreneur to send up a secret surveillance plane over the city, in order to monitor, in clear HD images, those neighborhoods most primed for a violent reaction. They did this without informing the mayorâs office, or other local government agencies. This is only a facet of Theo Anthonyâs far-reaching doc on the subject, not just of surveillance, but also the Act of Looking as any type of objective measure of reality. Anthony stays fixated on Baltimore, his hometown, when he tours the AXON corporate headquarters in Arizona, the makers of the most used police body cams and taser weapons, where the company CEO enthusiastically walks through the offices and production warehouse, as these items are being manufactured. Not surprisingly, despite their near-ubiquity amongst American police stations, AXONâs most lucrative asset is its intense data collection, via its evidence.com portal, where law enforcement uploads thousands of hours of video each day. Anthony also spends time with marketing focus groups, camera-toting carrier pigeons, and scientists exploring the framework of our visual understanding. Itâs at times an abstract experience  â  the film communicates its intentions largely through bracketed text blocks, and a voice-actor, who acknowledges their role in your understanding the filmâs premise. He also makes frequent use of past scientific thought on the subject, including the creation of the earliest forms of motion picture recording, to best exemplify the more we attempt to create visual âtruth,â the more the standard slips through our fingers. Notably, the AXON recording equipment is designed to give the idea of full-disclosure with respect to the policeâ behavior, as a means of protecting the community, but itâs clear that the appeal to law-enforcement is actually quite the opposite: Providing enough legally permissible evidence to either exonerate their officers, or to put the plaintiff behind bars. As Anthonyâs pithy film points out, the act of seeing is still an act.
The World to Come: It is, of course, deeply unfair to compare each film to the highwater mark in a given genre  â  to say, for example, âWell, I quite liked that hard-boiled egg, but itâs no souffle au fromageâ  â  but the current spate of turn-of-the-century hardship lesbian romance films makes it near impossible not to put them in canonical order. Leading the way, it must be said, is the first of this current iterations of romances, CĂŠline Sicammaâs excellent Portrait of a Lady on Fire, which took my breath away. If the low-water mark of this triad is last yearâs Ammonite, which relied far too much on its esteemed leads to do all the heavy lifting; Mona Fastvoldâs film nestles somewhere close to the latter, but nowhere near the rarefied air of the former. What Fastvold does make use of is the natural environment in which the film was shot (Bucharest, as a believable stand-in for Upstate New York), filled with snow, and mud, and the damp gray features of that clump of woods in the valley of the mountains nearby. The story gives us two farming couples, both miserable, albeit in slightly different ways. Abigail (Katherine Waterston) and Dyer (Casey Affleck) genuinely care about one another, but the loss of their young daughter to diphtheria has turned their marriage into a sort of continual wake; and Tallie (Vanessa Kirby) and her dour husband, Finney (Christopher Abbott), who donât have any children, and with Finneyâs grimly cruel nature, arenât likely to have any. In their shared loneliness and misery, Abigail and Tallie become friends, then eventually lovers, finding in each otherâs arms, the wonder of worlds and joys otherwise lost to them. The film certainly means well, but as told mainly in journal entry and letter VO  â  Waterstonâs voice so muted and unwavering, she sounds like an NPR journalist reporting a story  â  it's so modulated and chaste, the emotional arc never rises beyond the slightly bowed. We arenât given enough privvy into Tallieâs own state of mind, so thoroughly are we inside the consciousness of Abigail, to feel the full weight of her decisions. Itâs earnest, but not particularly moving.
Flee: You donât see a ton of animated documentaries, but in the case of Jonas Poher Rasmussenâs harrowing immigrantâs survivor tale, there was no way to catalogue the early life of Amin, the filmâs subject, without extensive recreations in the first place. As a result, there is a strikingly evocative visual element to the manner Rasmussen and his animation team document Aminâs journey from war-torn Afghanistan, to Moscow, to Estonia, back to Moscow, and finally to Copenhagen. After his father is taken into custody by the Mujahideen in the late â80s, Amin and his mother, brother, and sisters fly out to Russia, in the months just after the fall of communism. From one chaotic country to another, the family desperately try to leave Russia for western Europe, but with unreliable traffickers, and a lone older sibling in Sweden, having to scrounge every penny he makes in order to make arrangements, things move in an agonizingly halting way. Eventually, Amin gets safely to Copenhagen, but is allowed to stay only by having to lie to Swedish authorities that the rest of his family is dead. If that werenât enough, adding to Aminâs fears, he feels the need to tell his family  â  now scattered about Europe  â  about his being gay. Through extended interviews with Amin, Rasmussen teases out his friendâs full story, spread out over multiple flashbacks, while interlocking with Aminâs current serious relationship in Copenhagen, with a man he plans to marry, if only he can finally accept and trust in the idea of having a permanent home. Rasmussenâs genuine friendship with Amin adds a warm sheen of empathy to the proceedings, even in the ways not everything makes perfect sense. You get the understanding that Amin, having long buried his extremely difficult past journeys, is hesitating, even now, to fully unburden himself all at once, as if he has to take the time to reconcile all the different versions of his own story heâs had to live with, in order to make sense of it all.
Hive: In the era of #metoo, and Sundanceâs continued efforts to represent female-helmed films at the festival, itâs becoming ever more clear in film after film, the biggest impediment to systemic change in culture and government is the ever-so-delicate male ego, which protects itself from damage more often than not by absolutely brutalizing anything that would dare threaten it. In Blerta Basholliâs excellent debut feature, based on a true story, the year is 1999, and in the aftermath of the grisly Serbian War, many communities are still awaiting word on the many missing, presumed dead family members who were taken away and will very likely not be coming back. One such half-widow is a fierce woman named Fahirje (Yllka Gashi), who still takes care of her missing husbandâs father (Cun Lajci), as well as her two children. With funds dwindling, and her honey business not faring as well without her husband, a seasoned beekeeper, Fahirje gets a driversâ license and begins a new business, hand-crafting jars of ajvar, the Serbian roasted red pepper sauce, and selling them at the local grocery. Despite violent, brutish opposition from many of the men in her small village of Krusha, whose favorite put-down is to call her a âwhore,â Fahirje soldiers on, eventually enlisting many of the other village widows to join her business. Through it all, she has to contend with her own emotional pain  â  her husband vanished years ago, but has yet to be identified amongst the remains of the mass graves that become the final resting place for many Serbians. Basholli shoots the film primarily as handheld verite, documenting the day-to-day building of the business as well as the emotional upheaval of her protagonist. In this, Gashi, with her smoldering eyes, the lines of determination etched into her face, is a revelation. Fahrije suffers the multitude of slings and arrows  â  most miserably coming from her own teen daughter, who is embarrassed at first at the attention and gossip her mother is getting  â  with dignified solemnity. By the end, she has empowered a generation of women, while paving the way for countless others. Not all revolutions are won on the battlefield.
Users: Itâs indeed jarring to see a film so dedicated to visual sumptuousness, so satisfyingly transfixing in its use of pattern, motion, and juxtaposition, but all in service towards an epitaph to our inevitable extinction. Natalia Almadaâs cinematic essay uses its visual poetics to lure us in, to bewitch us with its beauty as it gently eases the blade of the knife deep in our midsection. A mother of two young children, Almada begins the film contemplating her babies, and the world in which they have been brought into, voracious in its use of natural materials, polluting the oceans with miles of fiber-optic cable, burning our forests to the ground, exploiting the Earth for every gram of mineable material, every ounce of oil, all to fill the growing chasm between ourselves and the formerly natural world in which we used to inhabit. The film moves at a placid, even-keeled pace. There are many beautifully composed slow-fixed shots of fields, trees, cityscapes from high above; juxtaposed against contrasting conceptions: an overhead drone shot of the Pacificâs cresting coastline cutting to an AT&T manhole cover; her own childâs face lit by the glow of a computer as he fixates on the screen in front of him, to a distant planeâs long vapor trail through a swath of sky; an infant breast-feeding to the endless rows of sprouts in a hydroponic lab. There is so much stuff, so many things, from shipping crates to solar panels, all slipping past the lens of DP Bennett Cerfâs cameras, so as to become something akin to a sort of visual intervention: You can see it, the film is telling us, you know very well how this is going to end. Almada doesnât provide answers, or even firm conclusions, exactly. These are the things she is wrestling with in her own conscience, the horrific implications of otherwise deeply pleasing symmetric images. The film is a stunning ode to our demise.
Sundance goes mostly virtual for this yearâs edition, sparing filmgoers the altitude, long waits, standing lines, and panicked eating binges  â  but also, these things and more that make the festival so damn endearing. In any event, Sundance via living room is still a hell of a lot better than no Sundance. A daily report.
#sweet smell of success#ssos#piers marchant#films#movies#sundance 2021#film festival#virtual#users#hive#flee#the world to come#all light everywhere
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Particular Characteristics of Divorce Laws
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