#for real the visual effects department KILLED IT

[milevenstancyendgame]

Mike's Intuition

Something I haven't seen talked about yet, is Mike's talent of intuition.

We see the most of it in s1, I think. His immediate connection to Eleven is the first glimpse we get of it. Whether you see it as love at first sight or not (the s4 monologue confirmed that, but that's not the point), he acted in a deeply compassionate, empathetic, and very mature way for his age (compare Lucas and Dustin's reactions). Instead of being freaked out by El, he just saw a lost child in need, and he understood that she must have gone through something awful, even though he had no idea what it was (just look at his face when he sees El holding the soft sweater to her cheek).

He also just "knew" that she wasn't a dangerous/bad person. Which was something the others were very worried about, especially after she displayed her superpowers. He just felt sorry for her and instantly liked her, just like that.

I think his most consequential decision came after he asked El to ring at their door, so his Mum could call for help, and she refused and made it clear that it would get both of them killed.

Instead of freaking out, he did what? Turned his bike around after having departed for school, and went straight back home to give El company for the day and play host to her.

Seriously, the switch is astounding. One moment, El thinks he's gonna tell his Mum about her and they will all die, and the next they are playing and laughing like happy, little children.

There's zero logic in this decision, it's just Mike acting on pure gut instinct. He cares for this girl without knowing why, despite knowing nothing about her, except that she means danger, and he just follows that feeling.

And nothing changed that, not her powers, not when the danger became real.

When El recognises Will on the photo, he also immediately believes that she can help them to find Will, and he never wavers in this conviction. But all that happened, was that she wordlessly pointed at Will.

Lucas' reaction to Mike's belief in this is actually really helpful to emphasise their strengths - Lucas is the voice of reason, while Mike is the voice of intuition. Dustin is in-between them.

Which is also why they make such a great team - they balance each other out, and you need both to solve a mystery. And typically in this kind of crime or mystery-solving story, you need at least a few characters who just follow their hunches, even though they know that it doesn't make any sense rationally and might just lead to a dead-end.

Mike is exactly that character (and Joyce is too, btw. There's even a beautiful visual parallel of both of them running into someone's arms at the end of "Holly Jolly"). When they pack their things for "expedition Mirkwood", Lucas once again doubts the whole plan and El, but Mike shushes him with "Just trust me on this one, okay?", which effectively shuts Lucas up. So it seems like they have good reason to trust Mike's intuition.

I also think that there was a good deal of self-blame afflicting him after they saw Will's fake body, and this was (among other things) the reason why he lashed out so strongly at El. He had trusted her, and he also had trusted his own evaluation of her and his belief that she would lead them to an ALIVE Will (which others had doubted). Even though there really was no reason to believe that Will would still be alive, just because El had presumably seen him at some point.

But then El uses the walkie talkie to prove to Mike that Will really is still alive, and it shows us that Mike's intuition had been right the whole time - again, like Joyce's.

Throughout the rest of s1, Mike remains the most open to any new explanations and possibilities that open up (like the idea of an interdimensional gate).

When Nancy and Hopper call them on the walkie talkie, he's immediately inclined to respond and makes the final decision.

After they team up with the teens and adults, and Hopper asks El to confirm the details of the gate, Dustin wonders "How does he know all of that?" And Mike responds "Because he's been there," giving us another neat example of his deeper understanding/reading of what's going on.

In s2, he likewise senses from the get-go that something seriously dangerous is happening to Will, so he supports him. He has no trouble understanding what Will is sharing about his supernatural experience and he easily syncs with Joyce in trying to connect Will's vine tunnel drawings (crazy together, lol). And again, he connects the dots and realises that the Mind-flayer lured them into a trap.

His intuition also remains just as adamant about El still being alive, as it had been about Will being still alive in s1! And the fact that he actually could sense El in the void is BIG. This boy has superpowers of his own.

S3 and s4 moved him into more comedic scenes/genre, so we saw less of this, but it's still a core character trait:

In s3, he again notices Will's unease in the cinema. He also was right on the money about El overexerting herself (which only got confirmed in s4 by Brenner, who said she had suffered from something like a stroke), which no one except Lucas (!!!) paid any heed to ("Oh shit, is that like a thing?").

In s4, apart from the comedy, the focus is precisely on Mike's insecurity and self-doubt overshadowing his intuitive understanding. Will has to give him a pep-talk and remind him of why he's their leader, which is the cue for him to tap into his superpower and pour out his heart/love to El to save her (Will's "You're the heart, okay? Remember that!" is pretty cryptic, even with the knowledge of what he's referring to, but Mike immediately switches from a panicking mind to his heart/intuition).

[synthient]

Hey, so fun fact re: suit lining, because that's a thing I Know for some godforsaken reason (that reason is hyperfixation). All the first generation Agents have the same golden inner lining, but interestingly, so does Neo when he has to wear a suit to Metacortex. (You can see it during the cubicle peekaboo sequence.) I have no idea if it means anything, but the Neo-Agents parallel runs through the whole movie, so it might for all I know. Anyway, now know it too! :)

yeah that's fascinating. I'm guessing that "some weird quirk of the costuming department" (maybe it was for some kind of special effects purpose? maybe it was supposed to add visual interest to the fight scenes, but then they walked it back/decided it looked too flashy by the sequels? maybe those are just the suits they had on hand for some reason?) is more likely than any deeper thematic reason...

but that's not gonna stop me from putting on the Deep Thematic Reasons hat. my first shot was "a piece of flamboyance/self-expression that Smith keeps under wraps from the other agents, but still allows himself when the audience is a human he's about to kill anyway (much like revealing his emotions to Morpheus)" - but that is kind of undercut by the fact that it's a collective costume design thing.

There's his gold sunglasses in resurrections, and the gold lighting he's bathed in at the start of the warehouse fight. which, if nothing else, could be a retroactive tie in with/assigning of meaning to his trilogy costume.

Also, I was digging around the waybacked version of whatisthematrix dot com, and I actually found this bill pope (cinematographer) quote:

"To distinguish the Matrix from 'reality', from the Nebuchadnezzar and the pods, 'reality' was given a cooler look, a bluer, more normal, less sickly look. The future in the film is cold, the sun is blotted out, there is no real warmth unless it is artificial heat, so that is whey they went for the cool side. Whereas the Matrix, created by the computers, is a decadent, decaying world, so it has a green hue. These are the two different colors - green and blue. The Matrix should make you feel sick, and in 'reality' you should feel a little more at home, but never comfortable. If you make it gold and warm you know that it is home, a safe haven. The other day I started using warm lights, I did this unconsciously for the first time in Neo's bedroom. It just felt right that it should be slightly warm. As harsh as that bunk is, it is the only home he has got."

Which more or less Hashtag Confirms my theories about the color symbolism in resurrections. Not that the gold suit linings particularly fit with that read or were intended as part of it

[alexcaldownapier]

Film Project - Crit Reflection

Longboard Nights Feedback

Positive:

engaging

good world building

consistent visual aesthetic

impressive fight scenes

focal length and camera work coherent in fight scene

“technical firepower”

achieves the goals

worked well as a crew

brilliant sound design

excellent production design (sets tone)

great practical FX

good script redrafting

horror aspects most effective

attention to detail

Negative:

flashbacks are entirely lost

a little bit missing focus on what the central theme is

not a lot of character development

disappointed in how easy the final kill was

intercutting doesn’t entirely work

abrupt ending

want to see Alex convince Casca to enter the flat

Going into the project, we were all very aware that what we were doing was “over-ambitious” and that if it was going to work at all we had to plan everything out to a T. So, it was a huge relief to hear that, despite their worries about the film, the lecturers were happy with the final product and saw it as a “pleasant surprise”. (“They said it couldn’t be done!”) It was really great to receive a positive response, not just from the lecturers, but also from our peers. I agree with most all of the feedback and think a lot of it can be linked to the flashbacks not quite working as a narrative element due to quick intercutting and lack of visual clarity. I think giving the opening more time to breathe would mean we better understand Alex’s background and her subsequent character arc. This would also help focus in on a central theme. 

The abrupt ending note is the only one I disagree with as I think the cut to black leaves us in that moment and feeling instead of having that moment come to an end or change. If the shot carried on for longer, it would read as Alex being unable to get Casca help. Whereas in this cut, it reads as Alex is desperately trying to get Casca help, but we don’t know whether she’ll succeed. It leaves us more invested in the final moment when we have a ‘happening’ instead of a ‘happened’. 

In terms of responses to my work on the cinematography, I was very happy. As Andrew often said, the cinematography really relies on the production design - what’s in the frame is more important than how it is framed. So, having Bonnie’s work to shoot was a real blessing and I think the way we worked between our departments shows in the note of a “consistent visual aesthetic”. This lets me breathe a little as that was the main critique of my work last term - inconsistency - so I’m glad my fear of a repeat note has pushed me to be more consistent in my visual approach. The note on lens choices and camera movement was also nice to hear as I have never shot a fight scene before, so knowing that it was coherent and the visual choices made helped it to succeed, was very encouraging.

Kate’s note on the moment where Alex convinces Casca to come into the flat is one I agree with as well and it’s a wee shame as it was a shot we had in our shot list, the only one we cut during shooting. This was due to taking a bit too long in setting up the lighting and tracks for that scene and deciding that with combining the insert with the 2-shot and having the wide, we would have enough coverage. But yeah, I think a two-shot of their conversation would have really helped to sell the emotion of that moment.

(RIP shot 4.3, forever in my heart) (or is it 4.2? I mislabelled my storyboard)

But yeah, overall, extremely happy. It’s always great to see everyone in the group praised for their work. I loved everyone’s work and I loved working with everyone. Everyone really pulled their weight and went above and beyond to make the film work and yeah, I really appreciate them all.

About That One Time Feedback

(I didn’t take notes; I am idiot) but, from what I remember, the film was deemed: visually interesting and well-edited but overall unclear, with the sound working against the image and a build-up of tension that didn’t pay off.

Again, I agree with most of the feedback and think that one change would solve most of the issues. If we were able to cast a young actress, the meaning of the film, the emotion of the film and the narrative would be a lot clearer. I think we should have probably considered this issue more in pre-production and come up with a way around it as I think it is definitely the main drawback of the film. Natalia and I talked after the crit and also thought that maybe some more on-the-nose dialogue that set up the exact events we are about to see, early in the film, would have been a way around the casting issue. 

However, again, I disagree with a note - that the film feels anticlimactic and misleading. This one confuses me a little as I think it is clearly a creative choice and the meaning within that creative choice is also quite clear, I think. By putting the audience in the headspace that something bad is going to happen, we are showing how leaving a young child by themselves for hours is an accident waiting to happen and the fact that nothing happens doesn’t stop it from being worrying. This was something we spoke about throughout the process of making the film and I think it is one of the ideas that (although undercut by the age of our main actress) comes through the best. I think with student films that are experimental in some way, there is a tendency to mistake provocative contradictions as being unintentional or a mistake. There was a similar note about the documentary Natalia directed last term, where the dissonance between a loud sound design and the line “a moment of silence” was seen as a mistake, instead of a deliberate choice to provoke an intellectual response in the audience, where they look for the meaning in the contradiction. 

This is a film that, I agree, is confusing and unclear, but is also, for me, quite interesting and has a lot of good ideas within it. Natalia’s simple and emotive story is complimented well by the stark and isolating visuals and is well-shaped and given good momentum by Eva’s edit. It was a really rewarding process and every step forward, we were uncovering new things about the film. Eva’s reshoot suggestion really saved the film and Natalia and Sam’s support through the post-production helped me feel like we were on the right track.

Overall, I had a great time working on both of these projects and I learned a lot. I’m very happy with how this term has gone and I feel like I’ve gotten a lot out of it. It’s sad that that was our last proper crit, but, again, I’ve had a blast and I really do love working with everyone and getting to see everyone’s films in such a supportive and enthusiastic setting. I really loved seeing what everyone has been up to and looking for what I can learn from my peers. 

In terms of cinematography, I always gush about Eva and Sam Duner’s work and this term was no exception. Eva’s framing choices felt so perfect for the story being told, I was always where I needed to be to not only see the story, but to feel it too. Sam’s lighting work is always a joy to look at and the way he handles his shots in post really elevates them as well. Cal’s visuals were so full of energy and charm; Aimee’s brooding images were perfect for the film’s tone and Peer’s approach to lighting the night-time shots was really interesting and evocative. Samuel Tabotta shot something that captured the humour and tone of the story and was also clearly very well planned in terms of the edit. (And that’s a guy who’s spent the whole term saying he’s no cinematographer!)

The sound designers also had some great work, both technically and creatively. Tom’s dialogue edit was incredibly crisp, especially for a film with a lot of character movement and exterior sound recording. Contrary to Leo’s notes, I thought Orla’s FX work with the morgue dialogue really tied the character’s words to the space. James’ location recording is something to take inspiration from as the opening montage he says is mainly made up of sync sound. Rowen’s work in the mix is real impressive, being able to juggle so many different elements and create something that feels cohesive and clean cut. Eilis’ sound design was fun and energetic; Peer’s work in a short time frame was very commendable and Alex managing to do a sound design on top of directing and editing his film is also mad! 

Anyways, enough compliments. I’ll see you all next year. It’s been a pleasure!

[zhiroaesthetics]

Learning Tone Untraditionally

I started watching this series on Netflix called Mindhunter. It's about these two FBI agents in the 70s that are trying to deconstruct and develop law enforcement's approach into finding and detaining psychos. There was a pretty interesting scene, where one of the agents was on the phone with his wife, and it made me envious on the privileges that tv shows and animation have in comparison to writing. Ambiguity can be easily displayed when you only have words and the trust of your audience, but what about the feelings that are provoked through the unknown?

They've been on the road for weeks, months perhaps - they can't tell; hometown is a checkup to their Head of Department at this point. Teachings and findings being constantly debunked under the idea of irrationality, the agents hunt for cases in hopes of validation.

Sacramento gave it to them, in the form of a man venting his hatred for his mother but not to his mother - she loves the boy she can't stand, he knows this. Calming himself with a knife, he'd go out, vengeful, longing for the love that she perserved for a man that gave his to her after dark. Cleaving in rage, he attacked and killed those that did provide that love, envious, jealous, because why could everyone be loved but him?

The agents knew it all but only needed a face, and when the police gave it to them, they proved their hypotheticals right. Celebration was in the air, with beers held high and cheers rang loud in the station. Holden, synonymous with Holmes, was the center of focus, adamant on diving into crazy to catch crazy. His eventual enabler, Tench, accepted the Watson comparisons with a hearty laugh.

He was a big guy, built like a linebacker. He easily slipped into the role of the wise guy, bringing Holden back to the reality of his department not easily comprehending change with exasperation, qips and a desperate need for cigarettes. He stood firm on everything he believed in, even when his resolve would be reshaped in real time. But only gentleness was heard within the dark motel room, expressions indecipherable with no moon to illuminate them.

"I just wanted to hear your voice," Tench whispered into the rotary phone's mic. He kept the speaker close to his ear, wanting nothing more than to hear her touch.

He closed his eyes to see her caress his trimmed beard, trembling hands masking her weariness from constantly going to bed alone. He pressed the phone closer to him, its end ghosting his lips, "Give him a kiss for me."

Limp but not broken, Trench's promise was hushed, resigning to distanced intimacy, "I love you."

He loosened his grip on the handset before placing the phone down. There was no click.

Voice fluctuations. Unreadable expressions. Lighting. Perspective. Transitions. How are the impact of these devices captured in text? To what extent can film and visuals be used to enhance and improve our writing?

I started writing back in second grade, my first craft being about pop tarts. It's as silly as you expect for it to be; a girl goes to school like usual but everyone became pop tarts. It's her favorite food yes but it doesn't mean she wanted everything to become it. It was ultimately a projection of her guilty conscious because she ate the last pack from her brother, and confessing to such made everything go back to normal. This girl, me, creating a complete story about integrity at seven years old.

I struggled matching that while also emmulating writing that reflected my natural maturity from growing up, being in school, constantly interacting with stories and expressions and creativity. It wasn't until i had reached my zero, wallowing up in isolation, where i allowed myself to at least indulge in what I always wanted to do.

With society still coping with the effects of lockdown, creatively writing and gaining the inspiration to explore has been at its most difficult. Focusing has been hard, being able to follow through with goals being even harder. But I'm still here. I try to remind myself to read beyond gacha stories and to entertain more than youtubers, and Mindhunter has been one of those reminders.

I can only watch an episode a day - it's too intense, and it hasn't even gotten to the main conflict yet... But ever since my awakening, I've only been able to interact with media as both an audience member and an author. I've been enjoying the jokes and laughing, but also been pausing and taking notes from scenes that I liked - like right now.

Tench is essentially the mentor character for our protagonist, Holden, and by proxy the voice of reason. He's much more laxed in comparison to our determined, potentially autistic white boy whose hellbent on developing behavioral studies within law enforcement. Most of the show's jokes come from Tench, and he's also the one we look to when Holden is at a standstill.

The motel scene is our first moment of vulnerability with him. Rarely do we get closeups of him as he's persumably talking to his wife on the phone. It's a short-lived conversation, held in the dead of the night, not wanting to hold up his wife from both of their early mornings yet wanting nothing more than to be with her right now. He never says goodbye, and the phone is hung up by the next day - a tape recorder being pressed as the agents are now interviewing a jailed serial killer.

When I say that I'm trying to hold back tears out of envy... What was showcased here is something only I can ever dream to achieve. No explanation, narration was needed to convey that duty calls, and yearning is not enough to put work on hold. But writing doesn't have the liberty of camera angles, of abrupt scene cuts, and trying to do so verbatim results in narm. Writing, however, does have limiting perspectives, rhetorical devices, oxymorons and juxapositions. But why do we feel as if it can never be enough?

There's a grave misconception that writing is easy. If it was I wouldn't cry in frustration at my shallow attempts to properly provoke fever within my 5 readers. If it was writer's block wouldn't exist, people wouldn't commission writing; if it was a skill that could be adopted overnight, there wouldn't be an academic-level of identifying profound stories. Even when we stray from our outlines, make details up as we go, hell even throw our hands up, tell proofreading to go to hell and post, we as writers are still presenting a level of critical and creative thinking that most of our peers don't exercise on the daily.

Reading is ultimately the best way to improve writing. My vernacular's shot, and was at its best while I was in school, constantly tossing around ideas with my equally and more equipped peers and consistently interacting with various medias. I've been motivating myself to read more...struggling to be consistent, but nevertheless have been reading. But visual media is also just as valid. Jot down your feelings, even if it's a caps lock vent on your notes or you spamming your group chat. You're still writing. Cherish that skill.

[nebulousfishgills]

My thoughts on the finale (long post)

Okay, I really just wanna put some thoughts down and I need to do it here. Spoilers and opinions, you can choose to agree or not, but please be respectful

I usually try to have a good attitude about things, pointing out the best in everything.

I'm having a really hard time right now.

That's not to say the episode was bad, it's just...

Well, I feel like I'm watching the Game of Thrones finale again. I just feel so unfulfilled. Then again, my hormones are a little out of wack at the moment (thanks mother nature) so my odd feelings could be because of that. I feel so angry and upset and hyped and... I don't honestly know. I really don't. I feel like I want to throw up, but not in a bad or good way.

I guess I just...

Feel.

I've stayed up every night for every episode because I just adored it so much. Yet I feel like... there should be more. I know we got a second season confirmed, but we don't know when. We don't know what it means for the future of the MCU. We don't know anything.

I guess we should have expected this because Loki was supposed to be this new horizon for the MCU. Doctor Strange 2 needed a plot. Someone said this show was just a big ad for MoM, and I find myself disagreeing with that, but only a little.

I think the best way to describe it is it's like the show suddenly decided it wanted to be something else. It's not a bad thing necessarily, but after episode 3, the tone really shifted.

I'm trying really hard to hold off on my more detailed thoughts, but they just keep creeping in, so I'll just wrap up this... intro? Idk.

I think the TLDR is that I feel disappointed, but I don't really blame anyone. Kate Herron, Mike Waldron, they all did AMAZING jobs. They really deserve the highest of praise for this. Is it my favorite MCU project? Yes. Am I excited for season 2? Absolutely.

But Game of Thrones can still be my favorite show and I can still dislike the ending.

I find writing this out is helping me feel better. Once I sleep it'll probably feel less... hopeless.

Now, next section. My thoughts on key plot points.

We all figured Kang would be introduced. I'm actually very excited to see what they do with him. The actor was just phenomenal and I can't wait to see him later on. Someone call up Erik Voss because he redeemed himself after the whole Mephisto deal

I guess the Multiverse was reborn, but not in the way I was expecting/hoping. I feel like there's a large gap between when the timeline shattered and the final scene with Loki, Mobius, and B-15. What happened? Though, I guess it makes sense. We all wanted a multiverse. We never considered the consequences.

I'm angriest about Mobius losing his memories and not getting his jetski. Like I said, Yelena can get a dog in BW after mentioning it once. But as someone on Reddit pointed out, they had to make sure Marvel would greenlight a second season. It does not mean I can't have a huge cow about it. That's what we get for jinxing it, friends.

I think I understand what Star Wars Sequel haters went through. Getting all these grand (maybe... glorious?) ideas about the ending and what a hopeful message about destiny and identity the series could give us. And the series gave us... none of that. Hell, I was so sure these would be used, and I was bamboozled. I'm sure others saw it coming, but they just looked too good to be fake out shots. My best guess is that they're gonna use this footage in season 2 for a plotline and they stuck it in here to trick us... but maybe that's just me being desperate

It was barely 1 AM here, Marvel. The Miss Minutes jumpscare was NOT COOL. I mean, THIS IS HORRIFYING IN LIGHT AS WELL

I'm really confused about Ravonna now. Is she good or is she bad? Where did she go? And why was it important we see her backstory and not any of the others (say, B-15 or Mobius)?

God, okay, I guess I have to address the elephant in the room now.

The Sylki kiss and then betrayal fight thing.

Let me get one thing very extremely clear before I continue: I do prefer Lokius, but I am FINE with Sylki. I think I've just been desensitized to any ship that ends with -cest because, as I've made clear here and in the past, I adore Game of Thrones and Crimson Peak.

I honestly think my main reservation about it is a flaw within myself that I dared not admit until I saw it staring me in the face: I'm probably a little possessive. I can admit this and I really dislike it about myself. But I think I'm just not a fan of Loki having a love interest in general. What makes Lokius different, I have no clue. Maybe deep down I knew Marvel was too much of a pussy to ever make it canon... then again, I was begging for a last minute kiss or something. My feelings on the matter are complicated.

But the way they handled the kiss in this episode? Gotta say, not too much of a fan. I know some antis like this, but it just felt too... not genuine. Maybe I'm just an idiot who thinks all kissing should have a meaning. A purpose. The Reylo kiss in Rise of Skywalker? Ben just saved Rey's fucking life, I think that warrants a large gesture of affection.

But this?

I think I get bad juju from the kiss, not the fact that they made it Canon. You can disagree or agree any way you want, you can even send nasty anon messages. That's my opinion and I'm choosing to stick to it.

And sending nasty anons won't do squat, I don't give a shit about faceless threats and hate.

Anyways, back to my point

The fight felt like a mutual betrayal, but at the same time it felt like neither really wanted to go through with it. I admit I felt Sylvie was more in the right and that Loki seemed a little too complacent, especially after everything he went through and saw. But like Sylvie, I didn't consider the consequences and now everything is fucked. But I still don't think Loki was right.

I think it boils down to being an impossible choice because no matter what you pick, everyone loses.

I believe that my main gripe with Sylvie and Loki's ideology split is that it feels a little too rushed and/or, dare I say it, out of character. I've agreed with Loki's characterization up until this point (again, you can disagree with me, that's your opinion and you have full right to it), but... man, I don't know. It all feels like an impossible situation.

Then again, I'm not the one in the director's chair. I'm not the team in the writers room. I don't know the first thing about making a project like this. I like taking solace in the fact that Tom had some creative control in the series about the character he loves so much. And, let's be real, he knows Loki the best out of all of us. None of us can hold a candle to that.

We can call ourselves experts, but Tom is the real expert. I trust him more than anyone. If he hated how this was turning out, he probably would have said something.

We just have to trust in the creative process

So, at the end of the day, this series was (and still is, remember, season 2 is on the way) absolutely phenomenal and I think it's Marvel's strongest work in a very long time. They know Loki is a character we all love and adore and I feel like they've done their best in honoring that. Besides, what other character is getting a second season? How awesome is that??

I found writing this out helped me process my thoughts and emotions IMMENSELY. I don't feel as... angry? Hopeless? I don't know. I keep comparing this to the end of Game of Thrones, and I feel like that's doing a disservice to Loki. Game of Thrones' ending was just absolute dog shit and there was no chance to redeem it because it was the last season.

Loki has a second season on the way.

It's not over yet.

Nothing is ever final until the universe forces it.

Kang can be stopped

The Multiverse can roam free

Loki can learn to find true happiness

Sylvie can stop running and fighting

Ravonna can redeem herself

The TVA can burn or reform (whichever you choose)

And yes

Mobius can get a jetski

We know nothing yet of season 2, what it will entail, how it connects to the rest of the Marvel Universe, or even when it will be out. But I know that I will eagerly await it when that day comes. I will once again put on a smile. I will wait hours to watch the new episode the moment it drops. I will be excited for it and enjoy it.

Because, at the end of the day, that's all it's about. Telling a story. And, mother of God, Marvel sure is telling a good one.

Until next time, my friends.

For All Time. Always!

-FishGills

[bryantew]

TORTURE STREAM OF ELF WAVES RADIATING BRAIN EARS RINGING HEAD EARS IN HIGH PITCH PULSATING PAIN MICROWAVES NOV 8 2021 0900 hrs

S.A.T.A.N. is a directed energy weapons software of the U.S. Department of Defense used to silence and kill whistle blowers, activists & dissidents, or anyone the American Shadow Government considers a threat

S.A.T.A.N. is a military acronym and stands for SILENT ASSASSINATION THROUGH AMPLIFIED NEURONS

CIA DIA Contractors using an EXASCALE RNM Supercomputer, via Brain to Computer Interface, Electronic Brain to Brain Interface, and Brain to Cloud Interface are targeting their victims cerebral cortex with a bi-directional fabricated and falsified bit-stream of electromagnetic low frequency waves specifically tuned in to the victims brain wave signature, via a stream of ELF waves called the INFORMATION & INJECTION FEEDBACK LOOP, using fabricated & falsified brain wave signals causing heart attacks, strokes and other secondary & tertiary diseases & disorders

Point at which the Trauma Based Mind Control victim suffers Congestive Heart Failure, Stroke, Adrenaline Damage, Artificially Induced Disease, etc., is an important 'METRIC' in the training, research & development of how to more effectively assassinate people with this Silent & Slow Kill technology 

A computer multiplexer routes the signal to a tower, satellite or mobile platform and the tower satellite or mobile platform relays the signal to the digital receiver similar to how cell phone technology works

The digital receiver is tracked & pinpointed in real time just like a cell phone, except with CIA DIA TRAUMA BASED MIND CONTROL technology the digital receiver is not a phone.  It is a human brain

The brain of the mind control victim has been digitalized by the nanotechnology, etc., adhering to neurotransmitters in his/her brain but nanotech is not even necessary for mind control technologies of the CIA/DIA to work properly.  Just necessary for training research & development in a real world environment using innocent men women and children as guinea pigs

The nanotechnology speaks to and decodes the neurotransmitters in the victims brain allowing the CIA DIA TRAUMA BASED MIND CONTROL Cognitive Researchers to turn the brain of the victim into their very own visual verbal & auditive communications system after they have mapped the brain of the victim into a cognitive model, which they achieve by way of repetitive infliction of physical & psychological trauma

CIA DIA Supercomputers use physical & psychological trauma to map out and reverse engineer the sensory & neural pathways of the victims brain & central nervous system, meaning they are mapping patterns with identifiers.  They are linking evoked potentials with descriptions

In order to map patterns with identifiers the CIA DIA Contractors (Neuroscientists, Psychologists, Psychiatrists, Behavioral Scientists, etc) have to create patterns.  Patterns of what?  Memory & Thought!  They are using physical & psychological trauma to force the victim into repetitive patterns of behavior called RESPONSE STATISTICS which can be remotely measured and integrated back into RNM Data.  Notice how Brandy Vaughn was first stalked and gas lighted before her murder?  Trauma!

Only the Trauma Based Mind Control victim absorbs the stream of electromagnetic low frequency waves that is specifically tuned to the brain wave signature of the victim, which then interface with the nanotechnology in the victims brain.  This is because only the victim possess that specific brain wave signature that the stream is specifically tuned into

Others around the victim do not absorb the energy or feel its effects because they do not possess that same unique brain wave signature as the victim.  The stream of electromagnetic low frequency waves just flows through and around them and they are unaware

Take two cell phones and place them both on a table next to each other.  Dial a specific number.  Only one phone rings because only that phone possesses the specific residence frequency for that number

CIA DIA Contractors are using a 'fabricated or falsified stream' of electromagnetic energy that contains a carrier frequency specifically tuned to the unique one of a kind brain wave signature of the mind control victim to interfere with your memory & thought process

Once you become dependent (ie. you believe their impulse injections are your own) on the system's output (or they believe your responses to it are consistent) they will begin to fabricate 'subconscious responses' which they will pretend are indicators of honesty/dishonesty, positive recognition, anxiety, etc, and they will use these 'impulse injections' to convince you that the fabricated responses are your own

If you are unaware of this constant mental manipulation the system will begin to shape your thoughts & behavior. They will use this to [attempt to] restrict your thoughts & behavior by blocking [interfering with] your memory & thought process while these mental suggestions are being provided ­ the interference is triggered & can be activated at will by the attackers.

[brave-clarice]

“Clarice” Liveblog: Episode 2

Again, some extremely unfashionably late hot takes.

(Special thanks to @kathrynethegreat and @special-agent-pendragon​ for encouraging another liveblog!)

Clarice is working out! And eating junk food! I love it.

and cleaning her gun!

hey, Ardelia is drinking what I’m going to assume is her grandmother’s “smart people tea”.

Krendler disciplining Clarice already is infuriating but appropriate.

“I lost control.” Oh no, I don’t like that. Don’t make Clarice unstable. Her mental and emotional state never had anything to do with her failing career.

getting weird mixed signals from Ardelia. Last week, she obviously didn’t want Clarice to lie/stick to the script Krendler gave her, but now she’s telling Clarice she messed up by not doing so...?

“I better know you if you’re calling this early.” Amen, Ardelia.

I’m in love: this cinematography is straight out of the film (when she’s flying to WV with Crawford)!

“When’s the last time you went back to Appalachia?” “It’s been years.” What??? It has NOT been years--Clarice was JUST in West Virginia last week as well as in Silence, and she arguably attended college there as well. (UVA is at least nestled in the mountains, and you don’t have to drive far outside the Albemarle Valley to hit Appalachia proper.) After all the details about her character they’ve been nailing, they miss this glaring error? 

I like the tiny details she’s noticing (like the guy biting his nails). Not only because she’s an investigator, but because it’s reminiscent of Hannibal’s influence (imo).

Clarice Is Short: The Saga continues

still not getting any creepy vibes off Krendler. He’s going to be much less effective as an antagonist if he isn’t lewd as well as a dick.

I really don’t care for the way the opening “credits” fade out from the death’s-head moth to Clarice’s face. There are MANY animals that represent her, or parts of her, in the books--lions, lambs, horses, and of course birds--so this choice feels empty and lazy to me.

also lazy: having a fellow agent straight-up tell her in episode 2 “you shouldn’t be in the Bureau.” Maybe in two or three years, after some further “Death Angel”-type incidents, I could see this blatant rudeness, but not yet.

“Reesey”? Thanks, I hate it.

this flashback must be of Clarice’s little brother. That answers one question I had last week. That said...Clarice’s brother doesn’t play the same role in her story that Mischa does in Hannibal’s--but this sure feels like a Mischa-esque flashback.

good: they’re finally getting to the source of Clarice’s actual trauma!

bad: this is NOT how Clarice found out about her father. In fact, that whole incident is laid out in detail in the novels, and there’s nothing overly literary/un-cinematic about it, so this feels unnecessary. “The police are here! Something happened to Daddy!” No, bad! Show, don’t tell!

she would’ve known better than to introduce herself to that kid as “Clarice Starling, FBI,” come on now.

were they regularly able to wire tap hair clips in 1993? 

actually, nothing in this show looks very 90s to me so far. I’m sad about it.

so in eighteen months, Ruth Martin has gone from a junior Senator to the Attorney freakin’ General, and now she might run for governor?? At least let her get settled in one position of power first, why don’t you!

yet more Buffalo Bill flashbacks...alas.

are they trying to make this guy another surrogate Hannibal character? He’s commenting on Clarice’s accent and the dryness of her skin, asking about who she “left behind”...it all feels very Hannibal. (I know he’s a Charismatic Cult Leader trope, too--but when played off of Clarice...)

“Ew.” “I hate this guy.” I laughed.

I understand that Clarice probably feels conflicted re: her siblings in the book, but I’m really not digging the flashbacks of this Tim Burton character her brother.

@ the writers: Clarice already has the lamb backstory/symbolism, too. We don’t need this Little Brother stuff.

*shrieking* Mrs. Starling! At the sink washing the blood out of his hat!!! 

...aaand they had to ruin it with the brother’s painfully bad dialogue. Will still be good for gif-making, though.

are we supposed to interpret all these flashbacks as Clarice being incapable of controlling her emotions/state of mind? She keeps losing herself in memories and emerging all doe-eyed and panicky. I don’t like it.

not to be a broken record but...Clarice should be TOUGH. Again, Ardelia only saw her cry once in seven years. But she’s more worked up in this scene than Jodie was in Memphis!

when Mr. Cult Leader shouts “Agent Starling! Agent Starling!” he sounds exactly like Hannibal calling her back to his cell in the asylum. That has to be intentional. 

damn, wish that I could look as good five minutes after I’ve been crying as Clarice does.

I LOVE that Ardelia gets to be the crucial behind-the-scenes book-smart partner to Clarice’s action heroine.

AG Martin’s just playing politics by turning a blind eye to the crooked sheriff. But when her own daughter was just kidnapped and almost killed, she looks like a real hypocrite.

gosh, Rebecca Breeds is great. I already hope she gets nominated for an Emmy.

so Krendler is...doing the right thing???

Clarice’s father was definitely not a sheriff. I hope she’s just exaggerating for dramatic effect. (Maybe this will be clarified later.)

she couldn’t just sit with a manipulative guy without getting emotional, but she’s cool as a cucumber while telling an extended story about her father? HmmMM.

sometimes her mannerisms and facial expressions are so much like Jodie’s that it’s uncanny, like here when she leans forward to confront the Cult Leader.

“She did it.” Damn straight!

another great callback to Silence. this show’s camera crew knows its stuff!

“He’s concerned I have some residual trauma from Bill.” I. Hate. This. Subplot--and all its OOC implications.

“Catherine was close to her father, too.” Ooh, a nice allusion to the novel! Clarice makes note of their “common wound,” the loss of a father, when she’s in Catherine’s apartment in Silence.

she is just SO pretty.

little Clarice looks a LOT like Rebecca Breeds. I hope we see some more of her. 

The Good:

the continuing visual nods to the Silence film via cinematography

Mama Starling!!!

Clarice’s “The World Will Not Be This Way Within the Reach of my Arm” attitude, refusing to leave without helping the victims.

Ardelia Mapp coming in clutch! 

Clarice being, generally, a badass

and using psychological tricks/mind games to pin the antagonist...that’s the woman who disarmed a monster with just a few words.

Rebecca Breed’s acting has been phenomenal so far.

I like Clarice’s haircut a lot better when worn down (though it’s not very practical for fieldwork, so we probably won’t see it much).

The Bad:

the continuing Buffalo Bill-related Trauma Subplot. Ugh.

all the flashbacks to Clarice’s brother (and the not-so-subtle suggestion that her brother is, symbolically, another lamb).

will the real Paul Krendler please come forward? this guy is so TAME.

the other agents’ hostility towards Clarice needs to be toned down slightly so that it can escalate. Otherwise, where’s the tension?

is this actually 1993? I’m not feeling it. Shouldn’t it have a little of that Season 1/2 X-Files aesthetic? Please give me more than once-an-episode references to pagers and fax machines!

that glaring Appalachia continuity error...it’s still bugging me.

I missed the overt Hannibal references, even though they’re not necessary to any part of this episode. A lady can dream!

Overall, I really liked this one despite my various issues with it. It started shakily but built to a great finish. The emphasis across both episodes on Clarice being in the FBI not just to “get out, get anywhere,” but out of a genuine desire to help victims has been wonderful. I just hope they don’t swerve too far into the “too traumatized and emotionally compromised to function” lane. It would be a disservice to Clarice’s character and to her journey (and would smack too much of “Hannibal really did prey on her weak mind/brainwash her”.

Things I’d still like to see: More of her personality. Her hobbies and interests. That she’s cleaning her gun is great! Now let’s see “Poison Oakley” practicing her sharpshooting skills. Or car shopping. Or clothes shopping to show off her “developing taste.” (Ardelia can come!) I’ll take literally anything. Give us more of Clarice’s sense of humor as well. She had some subtle funny moments in the pilot, and it’s nice to see Rebecca smile for a change.

And Krendler? Smear that man in grease! I appreciated a happy ending even though Clarice’s career is, as we know, already in a downward spiral--the last thing we want is for every episode to be a slog, especially when a good chunk of the audience hasn’t read the book and doesn’t know Clarice is doomed to fail in the Bureau.

However... Krendler’s not a “redemption arc” kind of character. Or even a “run-of-the-mill sexist asshole” character. This is a man who spent seven years systematically sabotaging a young woman’s career because a) he was jealous that she solved the Gumb case before him, and b) she wouldn’t fuck him. He was a Justice Department official working fist-in-glove with a serial child molester who was planning some of the heinous vigilante justice imaginable. THAT’S why his very gruesome end at Hannibal’s hands felt deserved--even Clarice thought so! In short, he needs to get nasty.

Anyway, thanks for coming to another long-overdue TedTalk. Fingers crossed that the next one will be more timely (aiming for Sunday night)! 

[grigori77]

2020 in Movies - My Top 30 Fave Movies (Part 1)

30.  BODY CAM – in the face of the ongoing pandemic, viral outbreak cinema has become worryingly prescient of late, but as COVID led to civil unrest in some quarters there were a couple of 2020 films that REALLY seemed to put their finger on the pulse of another particularly shitty zeitgeist.  Admittedly this first one highlights a problem that’s been around for a while now, but it came along at just the right time to gain particularly strong resonance, filtering its message into the most reliable form of allegorical social commentary – horror.  The vengeful ghost trope has become pretty familiar since the Millennium, but by marrying it with the corrupt cop thriller veteran horror screenwriter Nicholas McCarthy (The Pact) has given it a nice fresh spin, and the end result is a real winner.  Mary J. Blige plays troubled LAPD cop Renee Lomito-Smith, back on the beat after an extended hiatus following a particularly harrowing incident, just as fellow officers from her own precinct begin to die violent deaths under mysterious circumstances, and the only clues are weird, haunting camera footage that only Renee and her new partner, rookie Danny Holledge (Paper Towns and Death Note’s Nat Wolff), manage to see before it inexplicable wipes itself.  Something supernatural is stalking the City of Angels at night, and it’s got a serious grudge against local cops as the increasingly disturbing investigation slowly brings an act of horrific police brutality to light, until Renee no longer knows who in her department she can trust.  This is one of the most insidious scare-fests I enjoyed this past year, sophomore director Malik Vitthal (Imperial Dreams) weaving an effective atmosphere of pregnant dread and wire-taut suspense while delivering some impressively hair-raising shocks (the stunning minimart sequence is the film’s undeniable highlight), while the ghostly threat is cleverly thought-out and skilfully brought to “life”.  Blige delivers another top-drawer performance, giving Renee a winning combination of wounded fragility and steely resolve that makes for a particularly compelling hero, while Wolff invests Danny with skittish uncertainty and vulnerability in one of his strongest performances to date, and Dexter star David Zayas brings interesting moral complexity to the role of their put-upon superior, Sergeant Kesper.  In these times of heightened social awareness, when the police’s star has become particularly tarnished as unnecessary force, racial profiling and cover-ups have become major hot-button topics, the power and relevance of this particular slice of horror cinema cannot be denied.

29.  BLOOD QUANTUM – 2020 certainly was a great year for horror (even if most of the high profile stuff did get shunted into 2021), and this compellingly fresh take on the zombie outbreak genre was a strong standout with a killer hook.  Canadian writer-director Jeff Barnaby (Rhymes for Young Ghouls) has always clung close to his Native American roots, and he brings strong social relevance to the intriguing early 80s Canadian setting as a really nasty zombie virus wreaks havoc in the Red Crow Indian Reservation and its neighbouring town.  It soon becomes clear, however, that members of the local tribe are immune to the infection, a revelation with far-reaching consequences as the outbreak rages unchecked and society begins to crumble.  Barnaby pulls off some impressive world-building and creates a compellingly grungy post-apocalyptic vibe as the story progresses, while the zombies themselves are a visceral, scuzzy bunch, and there’s plenty of cracking set-pieces and suitably full-blooded kills to keep the gore-hounds happy, while the horror has real intelligence behind it, the script posing interesting questions and delivering some uncomfortable answers.  The characters, meanwhile, are a well-drawn, complex bunch, no black-and-white saviours among them, any one of them capable of some pretty inhuman horrors when the chips are down, and the cast, an interesting mix of seasoned talent and unknowns, all excel in their roles – Michael Greyeyes (Fear the Walking Dead) and Forrest Goodluck (The Revenant) are the closest things the film has to real heroes, the former a fallible everyman as Traylor, the small-town sheriff who’s just trying to do right by his family, the latter unsure of himself as his son, put-upon teenage father-to-be Joseph; Olivia Scriven, meanwhile is tough but vulnerable as his pregnant white girlfriend Charlie, Stonehorse Lone Goeman is a grizzled badass as tough-as-nails tribal elder Gisigu, and Kiowa Gordon (probably best known for playing a werewolf in the Twilight movies) really goes to the dark side as Joseph’s delinquent half-brother Lysol, while there’s another memorably subtle turn from Dead Man’s Gary Farmer as unpredictable loner Moon.  This was definitely one of the year’s darkest films – largely playing the horror straight, it tightens the screws as the situation grows steadily worse, and almost makes a virtue of wallowing in its hopeless tone – but there’s a fatalistic charm to all the bleakness, even in the downbeat yet tentatively hopeful climax, while it’s hard to deny the ruthless efficiency of the violence on display.  This definitely isn’t a horror movie for everyone, but those with a strong stomach and relatively hard heart will find much to enjoy here.  Jeff Barnaby is definitely gonna be one to watch in the future …

28.  THE MIDNIGHT SKY – Netflix’ big release for the festive season is a surprisingly understated and leisurely affair, a science fiction drama of big ideas which nonetheless doesn’t feel the need to shout about it.  The latest feature in the decidedly eclectic directorial career of actor George Clooney, this adaptation of Good Morning, Midnight, the debut novel of up-and-coming author Lily Brooks-Dalton, favours characterisation and emotion over big thrills and flashy sequences, but it’s certainly not lacking in spectacle, delivering a pleasingly ergonomically-designed view of the near future of space exploration that shares some DNA with The Martian but makes things far more sleek and user-friendly in the process.  Aether, a NASA mission to explore K-23, a newly-discovered, potentially habitable moon of Jupiter, is on its return journey, but is experiencing baffling total communications blackouts from Earth.  This is because a catastrophic global event has rendered life on the planet’s surface all but impossible, killing most of the population and driving the few survivors underground.  K-23’s discoverer, professor Augustine Lofthouse (Clooney), is now alone at a small research post in the extreme cold of the Arctic, one of the only zones left that have not yet been fully effected by the cataclysm, refusing to leave his post after having discovered he’s dying from a serious illness, but before he goes he’s determined to contact the crew of Aether so he can warn them of the conditions down on Earth.  Despite the ticking clock of the plot, Clooney has reigned the pace right in, allowing the story to unspool slowly as we’re introduced to the players who calmly unpack their troubles and work over the various individual crises with calm professionalism – that said, there are a few notable moments of sudden, fretful urgency, and these are executed with a palpable sense of chaotic tension that create interesting and exciting punctuation to the film’s usually stately momentum, reminding us that things could go suddenly, catastrophically wrong for these people at any moment.  Clooney delivers a gloriously understated performance that perfectly grounds the film, while there are equally strong, frequently DAMN POWERFUL turns from a uniformly excellent cast, notably Felicity Jones and David Oyelowo as pregnant astronaut Dr. “Sully” Sullivan and her partner, mission Commander Adewole, and a surprisingly subtle, nuanced performance from newcomer Caoilinn Springall as Iris, a young girl mistakenly left behind at the outpost during the hasty evacuation, with whom Lofthouse develops a deeply affecting bond.  The film has been criticised for its slowness, but I think in this age of BIGGER, LOUDER, MORE this is a refreshingly low-key escape from all the noise, and there’s a beautiful trade-off in the script’s palpable intelligence, strong character work and world-building (then again, the adaptation was by Mark L. Smith, who co-wrote The Revenant), while this is a visually stunning film, Clooney and cinematographer Martin Ruhe (Control, The Keeping Room) weaving an evocative visual tapestry that rewards the soul as much as the eye.  Unapologetically smart, engrossingly played and overflowing with raw, emotional power, this is science fiction cinema at its most cerebral, and another top mark for a somewhat overlooked filmmaking talent which deserves to be considered alongside career highs such as Good Night & Good Luck and The Ides of March.

27.  PALM SPRINGS – the summer’s comedy highlight kind of snuck in under the radar, becoming something of an on-demand secret weapon with all the cinemas closed, and it definitely deserves its swiftly growing cult status.  You certainly can’t believe it’s the feature debut of director Max Barbakow, who shows the kind of sharp-witted, steady-handed control of his craft that’s usually the province of far more experienced talents … then again, much of the credit must surely go to seasoned TV comedy writer Andy Siara (Lodge 49), for whom this has been a real labour of love he’s been tending since his film student days.  Certainly all that care, nurture and attention to detail is up there on the screen, the exceptional script singing its irresistible siren song from the start and providing fertile ground for its promising new director to spread his own creative wings.  The premise may be instantly familiar – playing like a latter-day Saturday Night Live take on Groundhog Day (Siara admits it was a major influence), it follows the misadventures of Sarah (How I Met Your Mother’s Cristin Miliota), the black sheep maid of honour at her sweet little sister Tala’s (Riverdale’s Camila Mendes) wedding to seemingly perfect hunk Abe (the Arrowverse’s Superman, Tyler Hoechlin), as she finds herself repeating the same high-stress day over and over again after becoming trapped in a mysterious cosmic time-loop along with slacker misanthrope Nyles (Brooklyn Nine Nine megastar Andy Samberg), who’s been stuck in this same situation for MUCH longer – but in Barbakow and Siara’s hands it feels fresh and intriguing, and goes in some surprising new directions before the well-worn central premise can outstay its welcome. It certainly doesn’t hurt that the cast are all excellent – Miliota is certainly the pounding emotional heart of the film, effortlessly lovable as she flounders against her lot, then learns to accept the unique possibilities it presents, before finally resolving to find a way out, while Samberg has rarely been THIS GOOD, truly endearing in his sardonic apathy as it becomes clear he’s been here for CENTURIES, and they make an enjoyably fiery couple with snipey chemistry to burn; meanwhile there’s top-notch support from Mendes and Hoechlin, The OC’s Peter Gallagher as Sarah and Tala’s straight-laced father, the ever-reliable Dale Dickey, a thoroughly adorable turn from Jena Freidman and, most notably, a full-blooded scene-stealing performance from the mighty J.K. Simmonds as Roy, Nyles’ nemesis, who he inadvertently trapped in the loop before Sarah and is, understandably, none too happy about it. This really is an absolute laugh-riot, today’s more post-modern sense of humour allowing the central pair (and their occasional enemy) to indulge in far more extreme consequence-free craziness than Bill Murray ever got away with back in the day, but like all the best comedies there’s also a strong emotional foundation under the humour, leading us to really care about these people and what happens to them, while the story throws moments of true heartfelt power at us, particularly in the deeply cathartic climax.  Ultimately this was one of the year’s biggest surprises, a solid gold gem that I can’t recommend enough.

26.  THE LAST DAYS OF AMERICAN CRIME – Body Cam’s fellow heavyweight Zeitgeist fondler is a deeply satirical chunk of speculative dystopian sci-fi clearly intended as a cinematic indictment of Trump’s broken America, but it became far more potent and prescient in these … ahem … troubled times.  Adapted by screenwriter Karl Gadjusek (Oblivion, Stranger Things, The King’s Man) from the graphic novel by Rick Remender and Greg Tocchini for underrated schlock-action cinema director Olivier Megaton (Transporter 3, Colombiana, the last two Taken films), this Netflix original feature seemed like a fun way to kill a cinema-deprived Saturday night in the middle of the First Lockdown, but ultimately proved to have a lot more substance than expected.  It’s powered by an intriguing premise – in a nearly lawless 2024, the US government is one week away from implementing a nationwide synaptic blocker signal called the API (American Peace Initiative) which will prevent the public from being able to commit any kind of crime – and focuses on a strikingly colourful bunch of outlaw antiheroes with an audacious agenda – prodigious Detroit bank robber Bricke (Édgar Ramiréz) is enlisted by Kevin Cash (Funny Games and Hannibal’s Michael Carmen Pitt), a wayward scion of local crime family the Dumois, and his hacker fiancée Shelby Dupree (Material Girl’s Anna Brewster) to pull off what’s destined to be the last great crime in American history, a daring raid on the first night of the signal to steal over a billion dollars from the Motor City’s “money factory” and then escape across the border into Canada.  From this deceptively simple premise a sprawling action epic was born, carried along by a razor sharp, twisty script and Megaton’s typically hyperbolic, showy auteur directing style and significant skill at crafting thrillingly explosive set-pieces, while the cast consistently deliver quality performances.  Ever since Domino, Ramiréz has long been one of those actors I really love to watch, a gruff, quietly intense alpha male whose subtle understatement hides deep reserves of emotional intensity, while Dupree takes a character who could have been a thinly-drawn femme fetale and invests her with strong personal drive and steely resolve, and there’s strong support from Neil Blomkampf regulars Sharlto Copley and Brandon Auret as, respectively, emasculated beat cop Sawyer and brutal Mob enforcer Lonnie French, as well as a nearly unrecognisable Patrick Bergin as local kingpin (and Kevin’s father) Rossi Dumois; the film is roundly stolen, however, by Pitt, a phenomenal actor I’ve always thought we just don’t see enough of, here portraying a spectacularly sleazy, unpredictable force of nature who clearly has his own dark agenda, but whom we ultimately can’t help rooting for even as he stabs us in the back.  This is a cracking film, a dark and dangerous thriller of rare style and compulsive verve that I happily consider to be Megaton’s best film to date BY FAR – needless to say it was a major hit for Netflix when it dropped, clearly resonating with its audience given what’s STILL going on in the real world, and while it may have been roundly panned in reviews I think, like some of the platform’s other glossier Original hits (Bright springs to mind), it’s destined for a major critical reappraisal and inevitable cult status before too long …

25.  BILL & TED FACE THE MUSIC – one of the year’s biggest surprise hits for me was also one I was really nervous about – the original Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure and its just-as-good sequel Bogus Journey have been personal favourites for years, pretty much part of my geeky developmental DNA during my youth, two gleefully dorky indulgences that have, against the odds, aged like fine wine for me over the years.  I love Bill and Ted SO MUCH, so like many of the fans I’ve always wanted a third film, but I knew full well how easy it would have been for it to turn out to be a turd (second sequels can be tricky things, and we’ve seen SO MANY fail over the years).  God bless Alex Winter and Keanu Reeves for never giving up on the possibilities, then, and for the original screenwriters, Chris Matheson and Ed Solomon, for writing something that does true justice and pays proper respect to what came before while fully realising how much times have changed in the TWENTY-NINE YEARS that have passed since Wyld Stallyns last graced our screens.  Certainly times have moved on for our irrepressible pair – in spite of their convictions, driven by news from the distant future that their music would unite the world and usher in a new era of peace and prosperity, Bill and Ted have spectacularly failed to achieve what was expected of them, and they’ve grown despondent even though they’re still happily married to the Princesses and now the fathers of two wonderful girls, Billie and Thea (Atypical’s Brigette Lundy-Paine and Ready Or Not’s Samara weaving).  Then an emissary from the future arrives to inform them that if they don’t write the song that unites the world TODAY, the whole of reality will cease to exist.  No pressure, then … it may have been almost three decades, but our boys are BACK in a riotous comedy adventure that delivers on all the promises the franchise ever made before.  Winter and particularly Reeves may have both gone onto other things since, but they step back into their roles with such ease it’s like Bill and Ted have never been away, perfectly realising not only their characters today but also various future incarnations as they resolve to go forward in time to take the song from themselves AFTER they’ve already written it (a most triumphant and fool-proof plan, surely); Lundy-Paine and Weaving, meanwhile, are both absolutely FANTASTIC throughout, creating a pair of wonderfully oddball, eccentric and thoroughly adorable characters who would be PERFECT to carry the franchise forward in the future, while it’s an absolute joy to see William Sadler return as Bogus Journey’s fantastically neurotic incarnation of Death himself, and there are quality supporting turns from Flight of the Conchords’ Kristen Schaal, Anthony Carrigan, Holland Taylor and of course Hal Landon Jr., once again returning as Ted’s grouchy cop father Captain Logan.  The plot is thoroughly bonkers and of course makes no logical sense, but then they’re never meant to in these movies – the whole point is just to have fun and GO WITH IT, and it’s unbelievably easy when the comedy hit rate is THIS HIGH – turns out third time really is the charm for Matheson and Solomon, who genuinely managed a hat trick with the whole trilogy, while there was no better choice of director to usher this into existence than Dean Parisot, the man who brought us Galaxy Quest.  This is the perfect climax to a trilogy we’ve been waiting YEARS to see finally completed, but it’s also shown a perfect way to forge ahead in new and interesting ways with the next generation – altogether, then, this is another most excellent adventure …

24.  TRUE HISTORY OF THE KELLY GANG – Justin Kurzel has been on my directors-to-watch list for a while now, each of his offerings impressing me more than the last (his home-grown Aussie debut, Snowtown, was a low key wallow in Outback nastiness, while his follow up, Macbeth, quickly became one of my favourite Shakespeare flicks, and I seem to be one of the frustrated few who actually genuinely loved his adaptation of Assassin’s Creed, considering it to be one the very best video game movies out there), and his latest is no exception – returning to his native Australia, he’s brought his trademark punky grit and fever-dream edginess to bear in his quest to bring his country’s most famous outlaw to the big screen in a biopic truly worthy of his name. Two actors bring infamous 19th Century bushranger Ned Kelly to life here, and they’re both exceptional – the first half of the film sees newcomer Orlando Schwerdt explode onto the screen as the child Ned, all righteous indignation and fiery stubbornness as he rails against the positions his family’s poverty continually put him in, then George MacKay (Sunshine On Leith, Captain Fantastic) delivers the best performance of his career in the second half, a barely restrained beast as Ned grown, his mercurial turn bringing the man’s inherent unpredictability to the fore.  The Babadook’s Essie Davis, meanwhile, frequently steals the film from both of them as Ellen, the fearsome matriarch of the Kelly clan, and Nicholas Hoult is similarly impressive as Constable Fitzpatrick, Ned’s slimily duplicitous friend/nemesis, while there are quality supporting turns from Charlie Hunnam and Russell Crowe as two of the most important men of Ned’s formative years. In Kurzel’s hands, this account of Australia’s greatest true-life crime saga becomes one of the ultimate marmite movies – its glacial pace, grubby intensity and frequent brutality will turn some viewers off, but fans of more “alternative” cinema will find much to enjoy here.  There’s a blasted beauty to its imagery (this is BY FAR the bleakest the Outback’s ever looked on film), while the screenplay from relative unknown Shaun Grant (adapting Peter Carey’s bestselling novel) is STRONG, delivering rich character development and sublime dialogue, and Kurzel delivers some brilliantly offbeat and inventive action beats in the latter half that are well worth the wait.  Evocative, intense and undeniable, this has just the kind of irreverent punk aesthetic that I’m sure the real life Ned Kelly would have approved of …

23.  MUST MERCY – more true-life cinema, this time presenting an altogether classier account of two idealists’ struggle to overturn horrific racial injustices in Alabama. Writer-director Destin Daniel Cretton (Short Term 12, The Glass Castle) brings heart, passion and honest nobility to the story of fresh-faced young lawyer Bryan Stevenson (Michael B. Jordan) and his personal crusade to free Walter “Johnny D” McMillan (Jamie Foxx), an African-American man wrongfully sentenced to death for the murder of a white woman.  His only ally is altruistic young paralegal Eva Ansley (Cretton’s regular screen muse Brie Larson), while the opposition arrayed against them is MAMMOTH – not only do they face the cruelly racist might of the Alabama legal system circa 1989, but a corrupt local police force determined to circumvent his efforts at every turn and a thoroughly disinterested prosecutor, Tommy Chapman (Rafe Spall), who’s far too concerned with his own personal political ambitions to be any help.  The cast are uniformly excellent, Jordan and Foxx particularly impressing with career best performances that sear themselves deep into the memory, while there’s a truly harrowing supporting turn from Rob Morgan as Johnny D’s fellow Death Row inmate Herbert, whose own execution date is fast approaching.  This is courtroom drama at its most gripping, Cretton keeping the inherent tension cranked up tight while tugging hard on our heartstrings for maximum effect, and the result is a timely, racially-charged throat-lumper of considerable power and emotional heft that guarantees there won’t be a single dry eye in the house by the time the credits roll.  Further proof, then, that Destin Daniel Cretton is one of those rare talents of his generation – next up is his tour of duty in the MCU with Shang-Chi & the Legend of the Ten Rings, and while this seems like a strange leftfield turn given his previous track record, I nevertheless have the utmost confidence in him after seeing this …

22.  UNDERWATER – at first glance, this probably seems like a strange choice for the year’s Top 30 – a much-maligned, commercially underperforming glorified B-movie creature-feature headlined by the former star of the Twilight franchise, there’s no way that could POSSIBLY be any good, surely? Well hold your horses, folks, because not only is this very much worth your time and a comprehensive suspension of your low expectations, but I can’t even consider this a guilty pleasure – as far as I’m concerned this is a GENUINELY GREAT FILM, without reservation. The man behind the camera is William Eubank, a director whose career I’ve been following with great interest since his feature debut Love (a decidedly odd but strangely beautiful little space movie) and its more high profile but still unapologetically INDIE follow-up The Signal, and this is the one where he finally delivers wholeheartedly on all that wonderful sci-fi potential.  The plot is deceptively simple – an industrial conglomerate has established an instillation drilling right down to the very bottom of the Marianas Trench, the deepest point in our Earth’s oceans, only for an unknown disaster to leave six survivors from the operation’s permanent crew stranded miles below the surface with very few escape options left – but Eubank and writers Brian Duffield (Spontaneous, Love & Monsters, Jane Got a Gun, Insurgent) and Adam Cozad (The Legend of Tarzan) wring all the possible suspense and fraught, claustrophobic terror out of the premise to deliver a piano wire-tense horror thriller that grips from its sudden start to a wonderfully cathartic climax.  The small but potent cast are all on top form, Vincent Cassel, Jessica Henwick (Netflix’ Iron Fist) and John Gallagher Jr. (Hush, 10 Cloverfield Lane) particularly impressing, and even the decidedly hit-and-miss T.J. Miller delivers a surprisingly likeable turn here, but it’s that Twilight alumnus who REALLY sticks in your memory here – Kristen Stewart’s been doing a pretty good job lately distancing herself from the role that, unfortunately, both made her name and turned her into an object of (very unfair) derision for many years, but in my opinion THIS is the performance that REALLY separates her from Bella effing-Swan.  Mechanical engineer Norah Price is tough, ingenious and fiercely determined, but with the right amount of vulnerability that we really root for her, and Stewart acts her little heart out in a turn sure to win over her strongest detractors.  The creature effects are impressive too, the ultimate threat proving some of the nastiest, most repulsively icky creations I’ve seen committed to film, and the inspired design work and strong visual effects easily belie the film’s B-movie leanings.  Those made uneasy by deep, dark open water or tight, enclosed spaces should take heed that this can be a tough watch, but anyone who likes being scared should find plenty to enjoy here.  Altogether a MUCH better film than its mediocre Rotten Tomatoes rating makes it out to be …

21.  PENINSULA – back in 2016, Korean director Yeon Sang-ho and writer Park Joo-suk took the tired old zombie outbreak trope and created something surprisingly fresh with their darkly satirical action horror Train to Busan.  The film was, deservedly, a massive international smash hit and a major shot in the arm for the sub-genre on the big screen, so a sequel was inevitable, but when the time came for them to follow it up they did the smart thing and went in a very different direction.  Jettisoning much of the humour to create something much darker and more intense, they also ramped the action quotient right up to eleven, creating a nightmarish post-apocalyptic version of Korea which has been quarantined from the rest of the world for the last four years, where the few uninfected survivors eke out a dangerous day-to-day existence amidst the burgeoning undead hordes, and the value of human life has plummeted dramatically.  Into this hell-on-earth must venture a small band of Korean refugees, sent by a Hong Kong crime boss to retrieve a multi-million dollar payday in stolen loot that got left behind in the evacuation, led by former ROK Marine Corps Captain Jung-seok (Secret Reunion’s Gang Don-won), a man with a tragic past he has to make up for.  Needless to say, nothing goes according to plan … Train to Busan was an unexpected masterpiece of the genre, but I was even more bowled over by this, particularly since I got to see this on the big screen on Halloween night itself, just before the UK cinemas closed down again for the Second Lockdown. This certainly is a film that NEEDS to be seen first on the big screen – the fully-realised hellscape of undead-overrun Seoul is spectacularly immersive, the perfect cinematic playground for the film’s most impressive set-pieces, two astounding, protracted high-speed chases with searchlight-and-flair-lit all-terrain vehicles racing through the dark streets pursued by tidal waves of feral zombies. Sure, the plot is predictable and the tone gets a little overblown and maudlin at times, while some of the characters are drawn in decidedly broad strokes, but the breathless pace rarely lets up throughout, and there are moments of genuine fiendish genius on offer here, particularly in a truly disturbing centrepiece sequence in which desperate human captives are set against slavering undead in a makeshift amphitheatre for sport, as well as a particularly ingenious use for radio-controlled cars.  And the cast are brilliant, with Don-won providing a suitably robust but also pleasingly fallible, wounded hero, while Hope’s Lee Re and newcomer Lee Ye-won are irrepressibly feisty and thoroughly adorable as the young girls who rescue him from certain death among the ruins.  Altogether, this is horror cinema writ large, played more for thrills than scares but knuckle-whitening and brutally effective nonetheless, and in a year where outbreak horror became all too real for us anyway it was nice to be able to enjoy something a little more escapist anyway – given the strength of its competition in 2020, this top-notch sequel to a true genre gem did very well indeed to place this high.  I’ll admit, I wouldn’t say no to thirds …

[dollvein]

RISEN: THE DAY THAT DEATH DIED

By Fred H. Berger

Yes, I have quite literally walked with angels and wrestled with demons, not on purpose but through circumstances which were not of my choosing. Perhaps it was my position as publisher and editor of the quintessential goth magazine Propaganda which drew them and other mysterious entities and phenomena to me. It’s amazing how those kinds of experiences can open your eyes and pull you in ever deeper, revealing through observable cause and effect reality and deducible facts what others can only arrive at through imagination, hallucination or blind faith.

One such incident, which was particularly profound, resulted from the overdose death of a very close friend in 1981 – he was only 18 years old and his name was Scott. It was the greatest tragedy of my life up to that time, particularly because of his tender years and the special bond that we had. When I went to the morgue with his grandfather to identify the body I was astonished by his extreme pallor, bluing lips and dark sunken eye sockets. I found the sight of him lying on the gurney, with a white linen sheet covering his wet just bathed body up to his chest, serenely and hauntingly beautiful. Although emotionally numb at that point, when I returned home I went into seclusion for three days during which I wept continuously and uncontrollably. I finally snapped out of it just in time to attend the wake, and thereafter slowly adjusted to the emptiness of life without him. For years thereafter I had extraordinarily vivid dreams of Scott, and considered them a resurrection of sorts. Little did I know that these dreams would prove to be incredibly prescient in that I would meet someone in 1990 who not only bore an uncanny resemblance to my dearly departed friend, but who also had the same first name, a very similar personality, and a birthday which was just one day removed, although they were born eleven years apart. This chance encounter came the day after I finished reading the 1982 vampire novel “The Delicate Dependency” by Michael Talbot, whose protagonist was a young apprentice and model of Leonardo da Vinci. The character Niccolo is the undead androgynous youth you posed for the angel figure in da Vinci’s painting “Madonna of the Rocks,” and in my mind's eye he appeared as the deceased Scott. When I’d finished the book, and saw the living Scott at a barbeque the next day, I was utterly shocked, and even frightened, thinking I had seen a ghost. Shortly thereafter he was modeling for me and appeared extensively in Propaganda Magazine over the next five years. Not only was he among the top-3 most popular Propaganda models ever, but he also worked for the magazine as a reporter and office assistant – in effect assuming the same role for me as Niccolo had for Leonardo in “The Delicate Dependency.” Moreover, it was as if I had retrieved my beloved from the realm of the dead, something which his doppelgänger acknowledged but never opened himself entirely to, which was probably for the best all things considered.

Although the tale of the two Scotts was limited to my own personal experience, and was not a true resurrection in the strictest sense of the word, I can’t help but see it in biblical terms as a metaphor for Christ’s triumph over death. From a purely historical perspective, the Crucifixion and Resurrection of Jesus marked the most pivotal point in human affairs, so much so that the timeline of events is divided into two eons – BC and AD. But an occurrence of such monumental import must surely have empirical evidence to substantiate the extraordinary claims made in the Gospels – and indeed it does, namely Jesus’ burial cloth, Christendom’s holiest relic known universally as the Shroud of Turin. Bearing an intricately detailed photo-realistic image of a crucified man, it has been determined through extensive scientific research since the 1970s that his likeness was not created with paint, dyes or pigments – instead it was lightly burned into the fabric by a burst of intense electromagnetic radiation. Such a highly distinct visual effect could not be achieved through any naturally occurring process or pre-20th century technology, and even if such a phenomenon or method existed in ancient or medieval times it begs the question – why is the Shroud of Turin the only artifact of its kind in the entire world. Furthermore, it reveals a body bearing all the injuries that Christ is said to have suffered due to his torture and crucifixion, including those unique to himself, specifically cuts from the crown of thorns and the lance that pierced his torso. With respect to its age, the lineage can be definitively traced from 13th century Constantinople to 14th century France and finally to 16th century Italy where it has since resided in the city of Turin. But it was not until 1988 that it was subjected to carbon-dating, when it was mistakenly concluded that it originated in the 13th century – the error occurring due to the test sample being taken from a piece of fabric that had been mended during the Middle Ages. This fallacy was not officially acknowledged until 2005 at which time another carbon-14 test was requested, but it was then learned that the relic had been fumigated with pesticides three years earlier due to an insect infestation, thus hopelessly corrupting it from the standpoint of such a dating method. Even so, over the next five years researchers used alternate means to ascertain the age of the Shroud including chemical and stress tests that placed its origin in the 1st century, which correlates with the year of the Crucifixion – 33 AD. During these last tests, the means by which the image of the corpse had been reproduced on the fabric were duplicated for the first time by bombarding a facsimile of the body with enough electromagnetic radiation to kill a man, except in this case it was used to prove a process by which a man may have been raised from the dead. The result was an image that approached the lifelike detail of the one appearing on Christ’s burial cloth, and which also possessed its remarkable and totally unique 3D properties. No matter how one wants to interpret these findings, the fact remains that mainstream science for the most part now considers the Shroud of Turin to be the world’s most significant preternatural artifact, meaning there is no way to determine at the present time just how such a thing could have come to be in the first place.

In conclusion, these were too tangibly real instances, one in the microcosm the other in the macrocosm, that may have not only mocked Death, but heralded its demise and the breaking of its monopoly as the final arbiter. This is the essence of the Easter celebration, and the hope of all mankind.

Left photo: The Shroud of Turin displays the bloody image of a man who was tortured and crucified according to the description of the Passion of Christ in the Gospels. For the full-body image see the comments section below this article.

Right photo: Propaganda supermodel Scott Crawford appeared extensively in the printed and video versions of Propaganda Magazine from 1991 to 1995. (Photo by Fred H. Berger, 1995)

[47pictures]

“All-Star”

Link to original r/nosleep post:

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/mv9j9a/for_my_blog_i_toured_a_movie_studio_to_find_the/

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I finally made it to Hollywood… at least, I suppose that’s what I’d say if I were trying to make it big. That wasn’t exactly the case, though. On the contrary, my old hometown friend was the one who I’d say ‘made it big,' and she was the only reason I managed to get there. No way in hell I could just stroll through these Hollywood gates without some sort of reputation associated with my name.

I’m currently pursuing a degree in journalism, and right now I’ve got a pretty successful status as a blogger, and hopefully podcaster in the near future. My topics typically cover things involving entertainment, specifically movies, television, some celebrity gossip here-and-there, the ins and outs of the film and occasionally music industry, nerd topics about comic books or comic book movies, and I could go on. Essentially, all the things you’d expect from an entertainment blogger.

I don’t have a secret or special tip for how I grew a mass following. It just sort of happened. I did it since I was in high school - sophomore year, to be exact, and it started mainly as a hobby. Most people are surprised to hear that I was such a good writer and articulate for my age when they look back on the articles I’d put up during that time, speaking on topics such as the ‘downfall of blockbuster films,’ and the ‘toxicity of media's body standards on the youth.’ Truthfully, I didn’t know all of what I was saying half the time. Writing was sort of just my natural gift that I honed to where I could essentially bullshit anything well enough to make a great story. However, being ethical always remained my moral code.

The topic I was covering now involved my own personal ‘investigation’ of a famous movie studio known as Gemini Films. They’ve put out several flicks now that have garnered what most would consider moderate success (they're no Warner Bros. or Paramount, that's for sure). They deal mostly in the thriller/horror genre, sort of like Blumhouse. I’m a bit more in the sci-fi, comedy realm when it comes to my tastes, but really, I’m a bit of a pussy when it comes to scary stuff.

So why am I 'investigating' them? Well, as it turns out, it's their amazing use of special effects. Yep, that’s it. Special effects, that thing we fell for as children we called ‘movie magic,' and growing up learned that some of it were all the crafty work of well-put CGI. Though that’s usually the case, this time, something about Gemini Films seemed different. They’ve always been praised for their ‘hyperrealistic’ visual effects and pulling off stunts that would otherwise seem impossible. I was watching one of their action/horror films titled Last Thorn, and in a particular scene, a character’s on-screen death is, well, very lightly put, gruesome. I’ve seen my share of on-screen gore and played plenty of Mortal Kombat growing up, but I gotta say, I found the scene hard to watch. To clarify, it involved a character literally exploding before the camera, and from the way it was shot and the lack of cuts and edits typically required to create the illusion of a scene, it seemed quite real. A little too real…

They’ve done other things aside from their special effects department that some people on internet discussion forums found a bit too impressive. Take the actors, for instance. In their dramatic scenes, especially the horror flicks, I’m almost always convinced that the actors are actually going to die on screen. I’m surprised all of them haven’t been given Oscars yet, ‘cause goddamn, you’d think the director was holding them at gunpoint. We all saw just how amazing the acting was in films like Hereditary and The Babadook were, but I gotta say, after watching these films, they make those two look like child’s play (no pun intended to the Chucky series). I was so impressed with the actors that I had to look them up and see what other work they’d done, but from what I did find, their resumes didn’t seem that much greater than the work they’d done for GF. It was almost as if that was the peak of their careers unless they decided to further their contracts to star in any more of their movies. Anything else they did pale in comparison that showcased their acting chops.

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Jamie Douglas.

It had somewhat of household name potential, I thought. She was the next rising star. She’d just won a Golden Globe for her leading role in a TV series I’m sure no one had high hopes for in the beginning, and her name was now attached to an Academy Award-winning film for Best Original Screenplay, all at the age of 22. Her acting was stellar, always had been even growing up back in high school when we did theater together. I was never for the acting side of things; I always preferred the technical realm and behind-the-scenes work. She, however, had the ‘it’ factor. I never once doubted that she’d be famous. It was destined for her.

The taxi driver dropped me off in front of a luxurious one-story home in the Beverly Hills neighborhood, surrounded by other similar houses with a property value larger than what I’d probably make in my lifetime if I was being honest. From the outside, her home reminded me of that gilded, golden age of Hollywood back in the 60s, with a slanted roof and art deco-styled exaggerated features. It was nice and simple. But that’s how Jamie was. Nice and simple.

I could see her peeking through the curtains of her window before she came running out the door to meet me in the front yard. That big beautiful smile and those joyous eyes came rushing at me with open arms.

“Christian!” she screamed my name with excitement, as she gave me a big, suffocating hug.

I hugged her back with my free arm, as my other one was still carrying my trolley bag and she had that one pinned in her grip.

“I’m so glad you made it,” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, I made it to Hollywood, right?” I dryly humored.

Jamie giggled as she began to pull back from her hug and put both her hands on my shoulders.

“Yes we did,” she said with a big smile, flashing her perfectly straight, white teeth. “We sure did.”

She led me inside the house and gave me a tour. Compared to the outside, the inside was the complete opposite in regards to the decorative era. Whereas the exterior was ‘groovy’, the inside was a bit more with the times. Wide-open spaces, tan or beige-colored furniture and walls, a wide sliding door for the backyard where you can see the pool. Jamie recently moved into the house, so I figured there wouldn’t be a lot of things to fill it up with just yet.

“Someone said Bette Davis used to live in this house, which I knew was bullshit, otherwise the value on this home woulda been way outta my league,” Jamie commented.

I chuckled. “Oh, I think you’re well on your way, trust me,” I reassured.

I was going to be staying with her for a week while I did my journaling/blogging. We did tons of catching up. She gave me all the inside scoop of what goes on in Hollywood - or ‘Hollyweird’ as I liked to call it - and even some of her other famous neighbors you might recognize living double lives on the down-low. She said she’d been to a couple of big mansion parties as well, where you’ll see all sorts of celebs from different categories of entertainment. Actors, athletes, musicians, models, influencers, you name it. But Jamie insists that she doesn’t attend those very often, if hardly at all. She prefers to be a homebody when she’s not seeking work through her agent, and her extraversion mostly comes to play when it involves networking.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The rest of the night we stayed up watching TV and YouTube videos. One that fascinated both of us was a video explaining how scientists managed to find a way to make a perfectly cooked steak from a cow, but without actually harming or slaughtering it. Instead, they extracted a small sample of the cow’s cells and took it to a lab where the cells would essentially grow into muscle for it to be cooked later.

“I’d consider that over going vegan,” Jamie said.

But I grimaced at the thought. “I don’t know, it just doesn’t seem right,” I remarked.

"What, are you vegan?"

"No, not that. Just the thought of cloning animals, ya know?"

“I mean, it’s not like they’re killing the cow or anything. They said it’s perfectly unharmed.”

“I know, but still…”

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The next morning was day one for me. Jamie had the right connections to get me an on-set tour of the studio lots associated with Gemini Films. I was greeted and led by the third assistant director (or AD as they’re commonly referred to).

“Hi, I’m Tiffany, nice to meet you,” she said, with a rather forced smile and handshake.

She carried a clipboard in her other arm, as well as a hand-held radio clipped to the pocket of her jeans, and I saw that she also had an earpiece nestled in her right ear. I could tell she was about her business and probably didn’t have time to be overly nice or talk too much.

I got a sneak peek of their most current production under the production title *"*Cold Silence", which required me to sign an NDA beforehand, of course. That wasn't actually their final name for the movie, but it's a common thing for them to do when shooting a film when either they haven't decided on a name yet or to keep the nature of the project a secret. It sort of took me back to my theater tech days with all the set designs and props lying around, except these were much more detailed and intricate thanks to their higher budget than what my high school had at the time. Here, there was limitless potential. Tiffany also introduced me to the other ADs, PAs, boom operators, cameramen, make-up artists, and then last but certainly not least, the director.

“Jeffrey?” Tiffany called to the man sitting in the director’s chair. The man turned to face her and then me. “This is Christian Watkins. He’s the man we’re giving a behind-the-scenes scoop for his… blog?” She looked to me for confirmation, to which I nodded. “Yeah, for his blog.”

The man in the big chair stood up with a cool smile and classy charm and extended his hand for me to shake.

“Christian, nice to meet you,” the man spoke in a tenor pitch. “Jeffrey Bachmann,” he introduced himself.

I didn’t take too much time last night trying to read up on his bio, but from what I could tell at first glance I knew that he was about in his mid to late fifties, as his hair was greying and skin was starting to wrinkle, and I could see that he had a surprisingly calm and laid-back demeanor. Surprising to me, at least. I always thought directing was a high-paced, chaotic mess that never ceased to present a myriad of complications onset that’d make any man want to pull their hair out. But Jeffrey seemed calm, collected, and very personable.

“Hi, thank you for having me,” I replied. “Seriously, this is like a really cool opportunity for me and my blog.”

“Hey man, it’s my pleasure,” Jeffrey said. “I heard you got a big following behind your name. Props to you. I respect the work ethic, especially giving your readers what they really want to see, ya know?”

I shrugged modestly. “Well thank you, but this time was mostly in my own interest to seek out this idea for my current blog,” I said.

“Ah, an interest in GF, huh?” Jeffrey replied. “Well, what would you like to know? We’ve got nothing but time today. In fact, we’re just getting ready to shoot the mangle scene for today and then we’ll wrap it up before we review the dailies.”

“Mangle scene?”

“Oh yeah, if you’ve got a weak stomach or aren’t into gore you don’t have to watch.”

At least he gave me discretion. “Hmm, I think I’ll tough this one out,” I said. “For the blog.”

Jeffrey gave me a sincere but slightly unsettling grin. “That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.”

He was a nice guy so far, but you know how you just meet certain people that for whatever reason, out of their control, their aura seems off? Maybe it was my preconceived notion and warranted cynicism I had of people working in Hollywood. Just a bunch of sharks in a pool with hungry eyes for desperate young talents eager to take a dive in the spotlight. But as I’d imagine with any field, there had to be a decent share of lambs among the many wolves.

Suddenly, one of the makeup artists scampered over to us, their attention directly at Jeffrey.

“Hey,” they said to him with a noticeably fake inflection.

“Hey, what's up?” Jeffrey returned.

“Savannah? She’s losing it back there. Said she wants to talk to you and only you.”

Jeffrey nodded. “Don’t worry, I got it,” he said, as he patted his hand on the MUAs shoulder. He then gave me an apologetic look. “Sorry, Christian, duty calls, but hey, Tiffany?” he looked to the stern AD. “Make sure he gets a front-row view for the martini shot.”

“Yes sir,” Tiffany replied.

Jeffrey and the MUA stepped off to handle whatever business needed handling regarding one of the actresses backstage in the dressing room.

“Martini shot?” I asked.

“Last shot for the day,” Tiffany explained. “For me, that’s a term I like to take literally.”

She seemed so serious all this time that I found the joke almost funny.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

There was now quiet on the set. Shooting was about to start shortly. At this point in the movie, the main character has a stand-off that turns into a big fight scene with the main bad guy at a warehouse factory building. At first, there’s a gunfight, then eventually they both run out of ammo and it comes down to a fistfight before finally having a standstill on top of a rail just over a giant industrial shredder.

Right now, the actor playing the bad guy, Will, is hanging on for his life over the rail above the shredder, while Thomas, the main good guy, is standing over him victoriously. My question was, is the shredder real? ‘Cause it sure as hell looks like it. It wasn’t turned on yet, but just from a glance it seemed legit enough that if I dropped something as sturdy as a microwave in there, it’d come out jelly on the other end.

For the blog, I told myself. For the blog…

Suddenly, my suspicions were confirmed once Jeffrey called to have the shredder turned on. The machine roared to life, the inverting sharp metal gears rotating past each other being a black hole eating everything that passes through it with no escape. Holy shit. It was actually fucking real.

Jeffrey gave the nod to the 1st AD, and the AD returned the same.

“Action!” the AD called.

Based on what Jeffrey showed me from the script, Thomas is supposed to stomp on Will’s hand that’s gripping onto the edge of the rail, causing him to fall to his death into the shredder. The camera was now rolling, yet, I didn’t see Thomas do the deed. Was he pausing for dramatic effect? Was he acting for the camera? I wasn’t quite sure why he was hesitating.

I peaked over to notice that Jeffrey, the once calm and collected man I met backstage earlier, was now beginning to seem noticeably impatient and about to snap at any moment. There was now that dark edge I noticed about him from before but couldn’t quite put a finger on that I could see now coming to light.

Hesitation filled Thomas’ veins, about to raise his foot, then not, dragging on the scene longer than intended. From this distance, I tried to see Will’s own expression, and I regret ever doing so. Surely he was acting, but I’ll be damned, it was too good. Whatever fear he portrayed transmuted itself into me now. It was the kind of fear that I didn’t think could be replicated on command. Jeffrey stood up from his seat, but just before he could say anything or call ‘cut’, Thomas stomped his foot down on Will’s hand, and we all watched as his fingers slip from the railing. Will sent out a bloodcurdling scream as he plummeted to his ‘death’. What followed will haunt me forever.

Do you know what it sounds like to have a person’s body mangled to death? Have you bitten into the bone of any sort of meat? Heard and felt the crunch? Or maybe even the crunch of celery? I myself have never broken a single bone in my body, but imagining what it might sound like other than what I’d heard in movies or video games all seemed elementary now. At first, I had to look away, but what forced me out of my seat to leave was Will’s horrifying screams. He’d fallen feet first into the shredder, so his lower body had to suffer first before reaching his upper body and finally silencing him at the head.

I ran to find the nearest trashcan and hurled. I guess I really didn’t have the stomach for gore, at least, not to this degree. Will’s screams kept looping in my head. It was a new primal sound that evoked a dread within me that I wish I never discovered. The sound of torment. One thing was for sure, Will was one fucking hell of an actor - if this was acting. But the shredder…

It seemed so real. And there was no greenscreen besides the ones to be used for the background later in post-production. I saw him fall right into the damn thing. With my own eyes. In living color. There were no edits, no crazy tricks, no lighting effects. There couldn’t be. It just wasn’t possible.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I was sitting down trying to recuperate, as everyone else around me was wrapping up set for the day. Tiffany came over and handed me a bottle of water.

“Thanks,” I said, taking it.

“You feelin’ better?” she asked.

“Hmm,” I answered with a scoff, raising both my eyebrows and taking a sip from the bottle.

“I’m surprised you stuck around if you had such a weak stomach. I mean, he at least warned you.”

“I usually don’t. But that?” I shook my head. “How do you guys do it? It looked so real.”

“I’m just pulling your leg. I almost vomited too my first time. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

If it was a shame to flinch at something so vile, I don’t wanna know what goes on in Jeffrey’s mind to even come up with such a scene. Speaking of which, I still didn’t get a one-on-one interview with him as I’d hoped. All I had was the end result of his ‘movie magic’, but not how he did it. At this point, I'm not sure I really wanna know.

I went to go get my belongings, which were left in one of the dressing rooms, and was stopped by the sound sniffling from the one a couple doors ahead of mine. I looked on the door to read whose room it belonged to. It read: SAVANNAH YOUNG. She was one of the lead actresses in the movie, or rather I should say the only actress in the whole film. With the makeup artist and Jeffrey thing that happened earlier, it was evident to me that something sour had gone on behind the scenes I didn’t know about.

The door was cracked open and I couldn’t see her face entirely from my view, but I knew she was sobbing. She looked to be sitting in front of her mirror. I was about to just ignore it and go on about my business.

I lightly knocked on the door. “You okay in there?” I asked.

She stopped and I could hear her get up and approach the door. She pulled it back just enough to where I could see her whole face. She was beautiful, just like Jamie, even if she had been crying.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Savannah said. “Thank you.”

There was a brief awkward moment of silence between us. Clearly, she wasn’t fine, but I didn’t wish to pry any further than that.

“Are you one of the new PAs?” she asked. I arched a brow. “Production assistant?” she clarified.

“Oh, no, I’m just a visitor,” I assured. “Writing for my blog. I was supposed to be writing about behind-the-scenes things and how it all works around here, but I bitched out from the ‘mangling scene’.”

Savannah gave a short nod. “I see,” she said. “Well… I don’t blame you.”

I wasn’t sure if it was the way she said it or just from the state that I was in, but her words gave me chills.

“I should get going,” I told her. “Nice meeting you.”

“Likewise,” she replied, and then shut the door.

I got my stuff from the dressing room and got ready to head out. I wonder what could’ve made Savannah so down to where the director had to get involved and set her straight. Jeffrey seemed pleasant to work with at first glance, but who knows, maybe he had a mean streak to him after all, especially the way he looked during the shooting of the scene. God, I just wanted to forget about it. I can’t unhear the sounds. The bones crunching, the blood splattering, and the screaming. The fucking screaming…

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As I was leaving the studio lot, I noticed the cleaning crew of two men dump a large amount of black bags in the dumpster. From the way they swung the bags over into the bin, the shit didn’t seem light. The bags were in several different sizes, some small, some big, some disproportionate. I stood there and watched as the two men finished disposing of the junk and walked away to go about their other duties.

Regular, common sense me would’ve just picked up the phone, called Jamie to let her know I’m ready to get picked up, and go about my day. But the nosy blogger me kept itching…

I made sure the coast was clear and made my way over to the bin. I can’t believe I was actually dumpster diving, and for what? What did I really expect to find? In my head, I knew the answer, but was avoiding it, either out of how ridiculous it may sound or, God forbid, I was right.

The trash wasn’t stacked high enough from the bottom for me to simply reach, so I had to literally get in there myself. I climbed over on the other end, raised the lid, and jumped down on the piles of plastic bags, holding the lid up with my arm and my breath so I didn’t get a huge whiff of the smell. Though, if I did need to puke again, I supposed this would be the place to do it.

I immediately noticed the bags the men threw away, but in order for me to check what was inside, I’d have to crouch down and let the lid close on me. Fine. That’s what the flashlight on my phone was for. Surrounded in darkness and garbage now, I turned the flash on, illuminating the four dirty walls around me and I pulled back one of the bags. I felt around to try and see what sort of contents might be inside. Mush. It felt all mushy with chunks of solid and a little bit of liquid.

This was stupid, I thought. I realized how stupid I probably looked right then and there, sitting in a bin full of filth looking for clues like some sort of private detective. My followers have no idea how far I’d go, but this was ridiculous. Oh well, I’m too deep in it now, no pun intended.

I held my phone in my mouth as I used my hands to rip open the plastic. My heart began pounding as I slowly pried the bag open. Once I got a peek inside, shame and embarrassment came over me.

Food.

I should’ve just called Jamie to come get me. Had I really become that desperate? I threw the bag over and out of my way. Then I noticed the bag underneath had trickles of fluid. Curious, I shined the light down on it. They were red trickles. Considering how I’d just overreacted only to find a bag full of thrown out lunch, I wasn’t about to get all up in arms about finding red drops behind a Hollywood studio lot. I didn’t know the full recipe for fake blood, but if I recall correctly, Alfred Hitchcock used chocolate when they filmed the shower scene from Psycho.

I tried to follow the small trail and see if it led to another bag. I slowly pointed the light further up and it led me to the bag just behind the one I tossed to the side. Looks like it had a small bust that caused it to leak. When I pulled this one over, a very noticeable smell filled my nostrils and erased any other scent of the trash that surrounded me. It was a metallic, rusty sort of odor, like copper from a penny. However, that smell also belonged to something else…

I ripped open the bag, and with the shine of my light beaming down, I was welcomed to a bright crimson sight of mashed blood and guts. It had to be fake, I thought. It had to… but the way I recoiled from the putrid metallic fresh scent of carnage, my primal instincts told me that wasn’t the case. I innately knew that it was real. I was staring at Will’s mangled body.

Frozen from fear, I sat there for who-knows-how-long. What the fuck was I supposed to do? I’d call the cops first, of course, but they would need evidence, and even then they’d probably dismiss me after I told them I dove into the dumpster of a movie set where fake blood is a common prop. I’d tell Jamie the same, but she’d look at me crazy, too.

I unlocked my phone and started snapping pictures. As much as I could. I even opened some other bags and did the same. I tried to snap every bit of remains that was left of Will and saved them into my phone. It felt like a sick test to see how long I could hold my breath so I wouldn’t gag, and I think I broke a new record that day.

I snapped probably about 47 pictures on my phone before I finally shot up and threw open the bin. The wave of fresh air hit me like a truck, and enjoyed it for only a brief second before turning to see Jeffrey, Tiffany, and the other AD standing by his side. My soul left my body right then and there.

“Christian?” Jeffrey said, sounding concerned.

Fucking say something, I told myself. I did my best not to stutter and look stupid.

“Hey, Jeff,” I said, raising the inflection of my voice, probably sounding dumb.

“Going for a swim there?” Jeffrey joked.

I fake laughed, then put on my best acting skills. “I cannot for the life of me find my ring.”

“Your ring?”

“Yeah, my mom’s ring?”

Then, with the slick subtle motion, I hid my hands to where they couldn’t see them behind the walls of the bin, and with careful coordination used my fingers on my right hand to pull the ring I already had on and flicked it down onto the trash below. I shuffled my feet over the bags I stood on to make noise so they wouldn’t hear the ring drop. Please God, don’t let the ring hit the hard bottom floor or one of the rusty walls, I thought. To my relief, it didn’t.

“Oh man, I’m sorry, Christian, I haven’t seen it,” Jeffrey said, as he looked at the other two as they also shook their heads. “But we can definitely look around again and let you know if we find anything.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” I said, trying not to make my voice tremble with anxiety.

“Now, c’mon, let’s get you outta there,” Jeffrey said, waving his hand over.

I nodded and shot a quick timid smile. I climbed out of the bin and faced the three before me, wiping myself down.

“Hands a little messy there,” Jeffrey said.

Anxiety raced through me again, but adrenaline had my back to make sure I didn’t fuck up by saying anything dumb.

“Oh, the fake blood?” I chortled. “Yeah, you guys lots of that shit in there. Smells like a chocolate factory.”

Jeffrey fell for it, and laughed. Good. But he could just as easily be playing me right now.

“Given how you ran off earlier back there I’m surprised you can stand to look at it, better yet, touch it,” he remarked.

“I’m sorry about that,” I stammered but stayed on track. “It’s just… I now see for myself, no one does it like GF.”

“Haha, you don’t have to flatter me to get back my respect. Don’t sweat it. I totally understand.”

Is that so? I thought.

“You could use that martini shot right about now, huh?” Tiffany joked.

Definitely not with her any time soon. Or any of them, for that matter.

“Well we’re just heading out for the day, you got a ride?” said Jeffrey.

“Yeah, I should probably call Jamie now and let her know I’m done,” I replied.

“It’s no problem, man, I can give you a lift. I can drop you off wherever you need me to.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Seriously, I insist-”

“Jamie and I got a spa appointment to catch in a bit. Otherwise I appreciate the offer.”

Jeffrey had a brief look in his eyes, a glint of what I could only compare to a wolf’s gaze hiding behind that sheep’s clothing he carried himself around as, and then smiled and nodded.

“Okay, Christian,” he said. “Once again, nice to meet you and I hoped you enjoyed the tour, and hopefully make some good content for your blog.”

“Absolutely,” I said. “Thank you so much again. Seriously, I can’t thank you enough.”

“It’s nothing, Chris,” Jeffrey said, throwing me off a bit. “Can I call you, Chris?’

I shrugged. “Sure. I mean, I called you Jeff by accident,” I said.

“It’s fine. Chris and Jeff it is.”

I needed to get away from here. Now and as fast as possible. But I still needed to do one more thing.

“Any chance I can wash these off inside?” I said, raising my bloodied hands.

“Oh of course,” Jeff said.

“I can lead him back,” Tiffany said, ready to go with, but Jeffrey stopped her.

“Ah, he knows his way in, right?” Jeff looked to me for reassurance.

“Yeah,” I answered confidently.

“Good, well hopefully I’ll see you around, Chris, and you enjoy the rest of your day.”

“Thank you, Jeff. And you all do the same.”

As I walked past them and towards the studio lot, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was being set up. Why hadn’t he let Tiffany escort me back inside? I’d think that would be customary for them to do for visitors entering and exiting the building. But I felt that they were watching me from behind, and with every step, I grew more and more anxious.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I’d made it inside and the lot was now nearly empty and quieter. I didn’t see a single person in sight, and only a few lights remained on, making it mostly dark. I hurried the fuck up and did what I came to do, as I didn’t wanna be here any longer and didn’t feel safe.

Down the hall where the dressing rooms were, I rushed over to Savannah’s door, and saw that it was closed. I tried opening it only to see it was locked. Looking down, there was no light shining through the cracks either, meaning there was no one inside. She wasn’t there. Shit.

I washed my hands in the bathroom, scrubbing the dried blood off as thoroughly as possible, getting under nails and all, cringing at the thought of it being Will’s. Suddenly, I heard a noise from outside the hall leading to the bathroom. Petrified, my heart sank into my chest, and I froze. I shut the water off, and carefully approached the door. I listened for any other sounds as I placed my ear closer. After a few moments, I heard the noise again, but then realized that it seemed to be coming from one of the dressing rooms just outside in the hall.

Since I carry a notebook around most of the time for jotting down notes, I certainly always carry a pen. What most people don’t know is that I carry a military tactical pen for a variety of uses, and in times like these, it can be used as a subtle but effective weapon. I switched the tip from an ink ball to a small slick blade.

I opened the bathroom door and crept through the hall over to the dressing room door that made the noise, holding the pen underneath the breast pocket of my sweater. On the outside of the door, it read, “WILL BANKS.”

Confused, I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Common sense me once again kept barking in my brain telling me to GTFO, but I had to be sure. I gave three shy knocks and waited. There was definitely someone in there because whatever noise I thought I heard from behind came to an utter halt. I could hear faint whispers of someone’s voice, and then another. There was more than one. My hand trembled as it tightly gripped the pen underneath with sweat as I heard whoever it was on the other end of the door approach.

It swung open, and there stood Will Banks, the man whose blood was just on my hands moments ago, alive and well, in the flesh. It couldn’t be, I thought to myself.

“Can I help you?” he said.

I just stood there, baffled, without answering. Behind him, I saw Savannah, who instantly recognized me and came over.

“Hi,” she said. “I thought everyone left.” She looked to Will. “He was visiting the set today for his vlog, or I’m sorry, blog.”

Will nodded, understanding now. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t get to meet you. Will Banks,” he said, pointing at his name on the door. “As you can see.” Savannah chuckled, and Will extended his hand for me to shake.

“Christian, or Chris,” I said, releasing the pen from inside my sweater and reaching my own hand out to take his. "Whichever you please."

He had a firm shake, and it felt uncanny considering what I’d just witnessed. I was touching him, feeling his skin and bone underneath, the warmth of his body temperature through the flesh. He was real. He was alive and breathing. That couldn’t be faked. That couldn’t be a visual effect. This was real. After we let go, suddenly my hand went cold. Everything about this seemed off and downright strange.

“Did you stick around for the shoot?” Will asked.

“I did, as a matter of fact.”

“Well, what’d you think?”

I wanted to say so many things right then and there, he had no idea.

“Um... y’all are some damn good actors,” I said.

Will laughed a bit, accepting my sham form of flattery, but Savannah, not so much. She gave one of those forced gestures as to not make it feel awkward, though, I noticed it right away.

“How do you do it?” I asked.

“I would give you some artistic bullshit answer like ‘study your craft’ or ‘years of training,' things like that, but honestly… it just kinda clicks, ya know?”

I fake chuckled. “No, I don’t. It looked kinda real from my end. Too real, I might add. Care to go into detail how you guys pulled it off?”

“Well, uh-”

Savannah interrupted. “Wait, you know what Jeffrey would say,” she whispered to him.

“I know, but it’s for his blog,” Will argued.

“But still.”

“I mean, Jeffrey’s not here, right?” I chimed in.

They both looked at me, then at each other. There seemed to be some sort of nonverbal understanding between them, and Will looked back at me.

“All right, for the sake of your blog, I’ll give you what I can to the best of my wording, that sound good?” Will proposed.

I took the pen back out from inside, switching it to the ink ball with a short click, and whipped out my small notebook. “Hit me,” I said.

“Get ready for this one. Basically, we’ve been using a new thing in the biz lately sort of like mocap but it’s not exactly. It’s also kinda like hologram sort of tech?”

“Really?” I said, eyes widened with interest as I wrote words down.

“Yep. That’s how we did it. What you saw, was as real as the hologram thingamajig allowed you to.”

“Hmm.”

“The shredder, too.”

“What?”

“The shredder. That was a hologram also.”

“Really? Okay…”

I finished writing on my notepad then turned it so that Will could read it.

BITE ME, I wrote with a big circle around it.

He laughed. Savannah did, too, but, again, in a strange nervous and restrained demeanor.

“That’s a nice story,” I said. “So if you’re ready to quit bullshitting with me, and tell the truth, I’m ready,” I spoke in a playful yet no-nonsense tone. “How’d you do it?”

“You’re good, man,” Will said with a smile, pointing his finger at me. “Like a true journalist.”

Any other day I’d be pleased to hear that, but I was serious. I needed to know, so much that I’d forgotten how long I’d actually been here. I told myself I was gonna leave as soon as I could, but now, for some reason after talking with Will and seeing how personable and genuine he came off, he put me a bit at ease. Maybe I was blowing this out of proportion. But then the screams echoed in my head again, and the smell...

“You’re not gonna tell me, are you?” I said.

“Look, I wish I could, honestly, but if I did, Jeffrey may not be too happy with either of us,” Will responded sincerely. That much was true, I could tell.

“All right, I think I tortured you enough,” I said, then immediately regretted my choice of words.

“No worries, man. Nice meetin’ ya. Good luck with the blog.”

“Thanks.”

I looked at Savannah one last time, and she looked back with a serious and almost scary gaze as though she needed to tell me something very bad. That’s who I came back for anyways. But that opportunity was a lost cause now, as I left with nothing and still no understanding of how Gemini Films did their visual effects? And I lost my mother’s ring. Fuck, I didn’t have time to go get it right now. I didn’t wanna risk being seen again. Hopefully, Jeffrey keeps his word and they somehow manage to give it back. That being said, I'd be fine with not having to see him ever again.

Whose blood was that? Whose body was that in the dumpster? Was it real? Was it actually just that well made to where the average person could be fooled into thinking it was actual flesh? Who’d go through the trouble of all that?

The screams of losing your life inch by inch, the sounds that would haunt me forever. And the smell of what was inside that bag. That instinctual gut feeling… how was it not real?

[blackswaneuroparedux]

It must exhibit the event in a way to excite awe and veneration and that which may be required to give superior interest to the representation must be introduced, all that can show the importance of the Hero. Wolfe must not die like a common soldier under a Bush…To move the mind there should be a spectacle presented to raise and warm the mind and all should be proportioned to the highest idea conceived of the Hero….A mere matter of fact will never produce this effect.

- Benjamin West, artist of The Death of General Wolfe (1770)

The Death of General Wolfe (1770) by Anglo-American artist Benjamin West (1738 – 1820) is certainly the most celebrated and iconic paintings depicting a military historical event.

The Death of General Wolfe depicts an event from the Seven Years’ War (known as the French and Indian War in North America), the moment when Major-General James Wolfe was mortally wounded on the Plains of Abraham outside Quebec on 13 Sept 1759. This painting then captures a pivotal event in the Seven Years’ War that decided the fate of France’s colonies in North America.

General Wolfe commanded the British Army and successfully held the British line against the French and won the battle. Unfortunately, General Wolfe was killed by musket wounds.

In death, General Wolfe gained fame as a national hero and became an icon of the Seven Years’ War and British dominance in North America.

It was Benjamin West who really imprinted Wolfe’s heroics on the British imagination. West was a British North American artist, who painted famous historical scenes. West was born in Springfield, Pennsylvania, as the tenth child of an innkeeper and his wife.He was entirely self-taught and went on to gain valuable patronage in the American Colonies. Later he toured Europe, eventually settling in London.

The image West created was so popular that West made an identical painting of the same scene for George III of the United Kingdom, one year after this painting. In total, four other additional versions of the Death of General Wolfe were also produced by West.

Wolfe’s death at the time was seen as heroic and art just immortalised him, mainly thanks to Benjamin West. And like all immortalisations it’s not meant to be historically accurate but is representative of a greater ideal.

Indeed West’s crowding of the foreground in The Death of General Wolfe, though inaccurate, is completely in keeping with his expressed desire to arrive at a ‘perfect’ philosophical truth by melding literal and ideal truth. Though only a few actually witnessed Wolfe’s death, such a depiction would have lessened the monumentality of the scene and, therefore, would not have conveyed to the viewer the perfect truth implicit in this particular death. West chose for his subject the entire Battle of Quebec, and focused on Wolfe’s death as its crucial and most heroic moment.

In this painting, West departed from conventions in two important regards. Generally, history paintings were reserved for narratives from the Bible or stories from the classical past. Instead, however, West depicted a near-contemporary event, one that occurred only seven years before.

Secondly, many - including the great Sir Joshua Reynolds and West’s patron, Archbishop Drummond - strongly urged West to avoid painting Wolfe and others in modern costume, which was thought to detract from the timeless heroism of the event. They urged him to instead paint the figures wearing togas. West refused, writing, “the same truth that guides the pen of the historian should govern the pencil [paintbrush] of the artist.” King George III refused to purchase the painting because the clothing compromised the dignity of the event.

Yet despite West’s interest in “truth,” there is little to be found in The Death of General Wolfe. Without doubt, the dying General Wolfe is the focus of the composition. West paints Wolfe lying down at the moment of his death wearing the red uniform of a British officer. A circle of identifiable men attend to their dying commander. Historians know that only one - Lieutenant Henry Browne, who holds the British flag above Wolfe - was present at the General’s death.

Clearly, West took artistic license in creating a dramatic composition, from the theatrical clouds to the messenger approaching on the left side of the painting to announce the British victory over the Marquis de Montcalm and his French army in this decisive battle. Previous artists, such as James Barry, painted this same event in a more documentary, true-to-life style. In contrast, West deliberately painted this composition as a dramatic blockbuster.

This sense of spectacle is also enhanced by other elements, and West was keenly interested in giving his viewers a unique view of this North American scene. This was partly achieved through landscape and architecture. The St. Lawrence River appears on the right side of the composition and the steeple represents the cathedral in the city of Quebec.

In addition to the landscape, West also depicts a tattooed Native American on the left side of the painting. Shown in what is now the universal pose of contemplation, the Native American firmly situates this as an event from the New World, making the composition all the more exciting to a largely English audience.

Eighteenth-century notions of masculinity promoted honour and courage in the face of war and death, tragedies that bound men together in pain, suffering, and anguish. The Native American symbolises the masculinity of an alien culture, that of the natural, uncivilised man. His naked body is displayed in opposition to the clothed Europeans, whose military uniforms signify masculinity, courage, and strength.

Although the Indian, as a warrior, is part of the scene, his nakedness and accoutrements – trade blanket, hunting pouch, and body paint – simultaneously single him out. His partial nakedness likewise affects how we see him: both exposed and covered, he is available to our gaze yet hidden from full view.

At the same time, the Native American’s gaze directs the viewer’s gaze to the fallen hero, who reclines in a supine, feminized position. In contrast to the activity and purpose demonstrated by the British soldiers, the Iroquois and Wolfe are inactive and passive, qualities coded as feminine. Wolfe’s pale skin, wounded state, and expressive face with upward-looking eyes reinforce this impression.

Nakedness is in fact implicit in the fallen hero, whose gaping wound – covered by a white cloth – opens his body to expose his vulnerability. His nakedness is displaced onto the Native American, who, although passive, displays a heroic, muscular body. The Indian thus combines masculine power with feminine weakness, underscoring both his strength and his subservience to British power. By rendering the Indian as naked and vulnerable in his seated pose, West diminished his threat and placed him in a secondary position, as a tributary to the British forces during the French and Indian War.

Perhaps most important is the way West portrayed the painting’s protagonist as Christ-like. West was clearly influenced by the innumerable images of the dead Christ in Lamentation and Depositions paintings that he would have seen during his time in Italy. This deliberate visual association between the dying General Wolfe and the dead Christ underscores the British officer’s admirable qualities. If Christ was innocent, pure, and died for a worthwhile cause - that is, the salvation of mankind - then Wolfe too was innocent, pure, and died for a worthwhile cause; the advancement of the British position in North America. Indeed, West transforms Wolfe from a simple war hero to a deified martyr for the British cause. This message was further enhanced by the thousands of engravings that soon flooded the art market, both in England and abroad.

Benjamin West’s The Death of General Wolfe justifiably retains a position as a landmark painting in the history of military art. In it, West reinterprets the rules of what a history painting could be - both in regard to period depicted and the attire the figures wore - and at the same time followed a visual language that would have been familiar to its eighteenth-century audience.

Indeed almost immediately as The Death of General Wolfe was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1771 it became one of the most frequently reproduced images of the period. For West himself, he impressed King George III enough (despite his misgivings on how he clothed Wolfe) and with his patronage  he was mostly responsible for the launch of the Royal Academy, of which he became the second president after Sir Joshua Reynolds.

West is quoted as saying that “Art is the representation of human beauty, ideally perfect in design, graceful and noble in attitude.” But here in this painting beauty and truth seem to be at odds. This is where one can get lost in the weeds of art and aesthetics. Roger Scruton suggests that great art has always shown the real (truth) in the light of the ideal and that in doing so it is transfigured. A great painting does not necessarily have a beautiful subject matter, but it is made beautiful through the artist’s interpretation of it. To be transported by beauty, from the ordinary world to, as Scruton calls it, “the illuminated sphere of contemplation.” It is on that plane one can contemplate truth in art and life.

**Wolfe's death and the portrayal of that event by Benjamin West make up half of Simon Schama's historical work Dead Certainties: Unwarranted Speculations (1991). This is well worth a read if you want to discover more about this remarkable subject and painting.

[thevagueambition]

i haven't rewatched most of them in a while but here's the second half of rhe Harry Potter Movies from worst to still very bad

Irredeemable: Order of the Phoenix

absolutely horrendous. takes my favourite of the books and goes through its motions without capturing any of its feeling. First of all Harry doesn't yell at Ron and Hermione about being isolated all summer to the point where Hermione starts crying when they reunite which is fake and bad and Let Your Movies Have Pathos. is this why people think Harry isn't canonically traumatised lmao

I don't mind Neville getting the credit for Dobby tipping them off about the Room of Requirement although it does make his reappearance in the DH part 1 movie really weird because iirc we haven't seen him in the movies since CoS, but cutting Marietta Edgecombe and making the discovery of Dumbledore's Army not a betrayal from within but something literally forced out of Cho with veritaserum that is then still treated as if it were a betrayal is very bad. In the books, Harry and Cho drift apart because Cho insists on defending her traitor of a friend whereas in the movie Harry is apparently just victimblaming Cho for being fed a truth potion???

also they cut so many cool sections of the climax in the Department of Mysteries and it's like ?? prioritise your time to get just some of this in there damn. you don't really fully get the sense that this is For Real the time the golden and silver trio are On Their Own in the Real World outside Hogwarts the way you do in the book because they're simply there for way too short a time before the adults show up for that to get through also they don't really establish the veil much so Sirius falling through it is super random

okay maybe the one redeemable thing is that they did Luna alright. even if she is way more autistic in the books

I Hate It Here: Deathly Hallows Part 2

Book!Harry spends the entire book obsessing about Dumbledore's backstory only for movie!Harry to show up like "I really don't care what happened with you and your brother" WHO IS THIS DIPSHIT IMPOSTER.

did they like. think the Dumbledore story line wasn't hugely thematically relevant because it absolutely is. every book in the second half of the series is partially about growing up and dealing with the adults you look up to being fallible

since 1) they cut the Dumbledore sl and 2) men aren't allowed to cry in these movies, the scene at King's Cross is pointless outside it's completely utilitarian function of giving Harry the choice to go back to life or not. again, Dumbledore tearfully apologising to Harry is fucking important. Harry's empathy for the piece of Voldemort's soul screaming under a bench somewhere is relevant

also cutting the Dumbledore Plot makes the ollivander and Grindelwald stuff with the wand super fucking random lmao

Voldemort dying in a puff of smoke because Cool Visual Effects when again, him dying *like the regular human he is at the end of the day* is hugely thematically important is also bad

Have Dumbledore's Army even been doing anything at Hogwarts before the golden trio show up??? you don't super get the sense they have lol.

generally this movie just seems interested in doing all the hashtag cool memorable moments with no thematic or even like narrative coherence

Really Bad: Half-Blood Prince

the stuff in diagon alley is done really weirdly and that attack on the burrow they added is also really weird

the mischaracterisation of Dumbledore present ever since Gambon took over becomes a particular problem because like a really big problem once Dumbledore becomes a central character because all the super poignant moments between Harry and Dumbledore are bereft of most of the emotionality they have in the book especially the cave seen where Gambon!Dumbledore is too manly to cry hysterically I guess

the death scene is also absolute nonsense like the ONLY reason mister "has a saving people thing" doesn't act to stop Dumbledore's murder/assisted suicide in the book is that he LITERALLY CAN'T, he's petrified under an invisibility cloak, under literally no fucking circumstances would he just stand around while someone threatened Dumbledore least of all Draco fucking Malfoy

they also like??? cut the actual climax of the book in favour of making the cave the climax I guess?? like in the book there's a giant fight happening at Hogwarts between Dumbledore's Army + some Order of the Phoenix members and the Death Eaters while in the movie I guess the Death Eaters just wandered in, killed Dumbledore, burned Hagrid's hut and left??? and no-one did anything lmao????

movie!Ginny is such a disgrace to book!Ginny, it's not the actors fault they don't have chemistry after probably feeling like siblings having known each other that long but by god is every romance scene they have an awkward mess

young!Tom Riddle is like hilariously obviously evil, even in his teenage appearance where he's supposed to be CHARMING slughorn into giving him information

also this is a petty point but young!Dumbledore should have looked gay and flamboyant like in the book and he doesn't this is homophobia

the best thing about this movie is that one video on YouTube where someone cut the funny moments together to look like the trailer for a teen movie because yeah to be fair this probably IS the funniest of the movies so at least it has that going for it

Still Very Bad: Deathly Hallows Part 1

Mostly just kind of boring iirc?? They fail to get a lot of the ways muggleborn witches and wizards are being overtly discriminated against accross in their version of the scenes in the Ministry of Magic which is uh bad when that's a huge point about how easily a reactionary government is turned fully fascist and Umbridge isn't just "haha toad" she's specifically super mega fascist and has always been so, the shift in power is conveniet to her as a fascist who would make do with what she could do under a conservative government but can now do those things overtly and openly. the fact that she existed comfortably under Fudge and is now showing herself to be fully onboard with Voldemort's preferred policy is an important point

all the movies hate Ron and they are wrong they shouldn't fight me irl Steve Kloves like never is your Harmony agenda more obvious than this movie

this becomes an even bigger problem when you have Ron's arc of letting his inferiority complex get to you because if you don't understand Ron, you won't be able to do him justice

since the movies hate Ron as well as men having feelings, the stuff when Hermione is being tortured upstairs by Bellatrix and Ron is fucking losing it is also not done justice

the Dobby stuff just feels like Here's A Cool Moment For The Fans in the movie because again Dobby hasn't been the presence throughout that he is in the books. like Dobby is legitimately their friend in the books in the movie it just feels like he's doing it as a sort of life debt thing for Harry freeing him or something

the first four movies were fine. the third is probably my favourite even though that one definitely also includes Some Choices. my full preference list is: 3, 1, 2, 4, 7p1, 6, 7p2, 5 (for comparison, my books preference goes 5, 6, 3, 7, 1, 4, 2)

[cassatine]

Nine films into its now 21 entries, the Marvel Cinematic Universe found its groove — albeit with caveats. The series’ long-running imbalance is owed to both occasionally muddled character arcs and often-incoherent worldviews. For the most part, the MCU captures the texture of America’s post-9/11 military politics, though it rarely has anything of significance to say about it. This superficiality has been a sticking point on the Road to Endgame, even for some of the series’ very best entries.

Marvel’s backdrops are politically charged, if not outright political, but the way they’re framed tends to act in contention with the stories being told. Captain America: The Winter Soldier falls unequivocally on the “incoherent worldview” side of things, however it succeeds more than its predecessors thanks to its clarity of character. It’s arguably the best Marvel movie till date, combining slick action, taut structure and sincere performances, though it’s hardly immune to the series’ political pitfalls. After all, it was the third Marvel film to be partially funded by the Pentagon.

A Shield From Criticism

Marvel’s incongruous political outlook is owed, in major part, to the series starting out as government propaganda. Like hundreds of Hollywood films, early Marvel movies like Iron Man and Iron Man 2 were produced with U.S. military assistance, which means they were also locked-in to scripts approved by the Department of Defense.

The Avengers was eventually turned down for this assistance, though it certainly attempted to appease the Pentagon at some point during its production (U.S. military equipment ended up in the film regardless). And while Iron Man 3 seemingly alluded to Marvel’s disagreement with the D.O.D — “There’s no politics here… There’s no Pentagon. It’s just you and me.” — the studio resumed its relationship with the U.S. government for its Captain America sequel, a partnership that continued until as recently as this year’s Captain Marvel.

Several scenes in Captain America: The Winter Soldier were filmed at an Army base near Cleveland, Ohio according to the Pentagon’s Hollywood database (obtained via SpyCulture). In return, the Army received “a significant portrayal in the film” at “no cost to the government.” A likely condition of this partnership, as with the Pentagon’s production agreements on Iron Man and Iron Man 2, was Marvel ensuring none of this portrayal was negative.

The result of this dynamic is a film, and a series, that only pays lip-service to questioning authority. The stories take aim at fictionalized structures, while real wings of U.S. government and their military policies remain unchallenged, despite them forming a major part of the fictional backdrop.

The real-world military presence in these films is treated as a desirable norm, while the real-world problems they cause or exacerbate are passed off to fictional villains. In the process, the heroes ultimately fight to maintain the status quo, wherein U.S. militarism is framed as the more peaceful alternative. The Avengers never truly rattle the cage, not in any way that would create long-lasting change.

The Winter Soldier’s critique of drone warfare and data mining is the closest Marvel has come to speaking truth to American power, though it stops short at every turn. In prior entries like the Iron Man films (not to mention Captain America’s own debut), the villains usually mirror some element of real-world authority, but they’re made palatable to all audiences once they’re stripped of real-world ideologies.

The film attempts to use specific U.S. military methods (and their justifications) to grounds its character-centric story. However, it also continues the series’ wishy-washy approach to power by letting real-world structures off the hook, shifting the blame for those methods to fictional entities (One has to imagine the film’s D.O.D. overseers preferred the responsibility for overtly American problems be directed elsewhere).

The result, while most certainly an exciting action-adventure, is a movie whose own story is frequently undercut. It teeters on the edge of substance, yet it feels constantly hesitant.

The Big Reveal

Understanding The Winter Soldier requires talking about its midpoint, a reveal that brings its themes into focus. Captain America/Steve Rogers (Chris Evans) and Black Widow/Natasha Romanoff (Scarlett Johansson) are fugitives from S.H.I.E.L.D., which has been recently compromised. This military outfit had a nebulous international allegiance in The Avengers, though its visual coding (and its Washington DC headquarters) make it closer to a defense branch of the U.S. government.

After tracking down a mysterious data point, Rogers and Romanoff discover, embedded within S.H.I.E.L.D.’s very origins, the digitized consciousness of Arnim Zola (Toby Jones), one of Rogers’ World War II adversaries. The real-life Operation Paperclip, which folded former Nazi scientists into American intelligence, resulted in Nazi science division H.Y.D.R.A spreading fascist ideology within American ranks. As it stands, H.Y.D.R.A. and S.H.I.E.L.D. are effectively one. They plan to kill anyone who might oppose them, though their impetus for doing so is un-specific; their ideology, once again, is “power” in the abstract.

In previous Marvel efforts, the villains’ plans often had a political façade, with something cartoonishly sinister beneath the surface. Obadiah Stane sought power in the form of Iron Men, the Abomination sought it in the form of big, green muscles, and Red Skull wanted power in the form of, well, magical powers. The Winter Soldier however, flips the script in that regard, retrofitting ridiculous-sounding comic elements like secret super-Nazis, a man in a computer, and even Batroc The Leaper in order to make them part of a larger political fabric. Here, the villains are driven by both in-universe history as well as political ideology, or at least something resembling the latter.

Rather than infiltrating America from the outside, H.Y.D.R.A. has grown to become part of American governance over the decades. It is made up of American Senators and military personnel, from fighter pilots all the way to a member of the World Council. The Winter Soldier comic’s Aleksander Lukin, a former K.G.B.-operative and modern-day avatar for the Red Skull’s consciousness, shows up here as Alexander Pierce (Robert Redford), a stripped-down American vessel for H.Y.D.R.A.’s ideas. In the film, Pierce has always been an American, and his methods are drawn from America’s real-world foreign and domestic policies. “Zola’s Algorithm,” the computer program that tells Pierce whom to target, is threat analysis through data-mining, not unlike the N.S.A. secrets exposed by Edward Snowden.

“Project Insight,” the algorithm’s next phase, involves drone ships picking off targets who pose a threat to H.Y.D.R.A.’s global security — or as Steve Rogers describes it, “Holding a gun at everyone on Earth and calling it protection.” Functionally, these crimes are a carried out by members of the American military, working in the shadows, killing and spying with impunity, causing Rogers and Romanoff to realize they might not work for the good guys after all.

On the other hand, revealing that covert Nazi infiltrators have been pulling the strings all along also waters down the narrative. The dilemma our heroes face is one of misguided allegiance, but this reveal makes it far too easy for them to come to terms with their mistakes. Rather than having to confront their place in a corrupt power structure, that structure is revealed to have secretly been another organization altogether, one that Rogers and Romanoff have never perceived as being the good guys. In effect, there’s little need for them to introspect since it turns out they were duped. The film thus avoids all questions of America’s role in these distinctly American methodologies.

H.Y.D.R.A., while descended from Nazis, have little connection to Nazi ideology. Instead, the organization seeks to bring the world under singular rule, without any further framing as to what they stand for — or against. For a second time in the series, a Captain America film responds to the question of who would be most vulnerable to the villains’ ideology with the same disappointing answer: America, and America only.

In Captain America: The First Avenger, H.Y.D.R.A.’s immediate target was America, the military superpower, rather than any specific group persecuted by the Nazis. In The Winter Soldier, the result is similar; the immediate targets of ���Project Insight” are mostly Americans on domestic soil. It’s a horrifying image from an American standpoint, though as a metaphor, it’s largely disconnected from its real-world equivalent. In either case, scrubbing the villains of specific outlooks means the characters opposing them needn’t have specific allegiances. This Captain America neither fought for persecuted peoples during World War II, nor does he fight for victims of America’s preemptive drone strikes in the Middle East. He only seems to fight for Americans.

While Rogers battles a military apparatus meant to mirror that of America, the fight ultimately comes down to a simplistically framed binary (despite the film’s musings about the world being more complicated than it once was). Captain America, draped once more in his red, white and blue, attempts to stop the Nazis — one of the unambiguous villains of World War II — from carrying out mass murder. It doesn’t hold much weight as a metaphor, even in the context of post-2016 America, whose own Nazi resurgence is tied to unconfronted elements of white supremacy in American life and government.

In The Winter Soldier, American governance is implicitly framed as the peaceful aspiration. Its disruptors — both now and throughout history — are fictitious foreign infiltrators, who secretly perpetrate America’s real-world crimes. “Coups, assassinations and proxy wars? Couldn’t be me.”

What else is one to expect from a film, even a great one, made in part to promote the U.S. military machine?

[lucastheunlucky]

iridescence. Otto&Luke

Location: Otto’s place Time/Date: Late night, about weekend of the 15th Summary: Luke fills Otto in on things. @gravityfissure

The water was warm enough to pinken the tips of his ears. Steam swirled when it struck the air and filled the room with its sweet scents. Lucas hadn’t settled into a tub in such a long time. He’s forgotten how it even felt to relax in such a way. His entire forearm of his left arm was draped over the edge of the tub, wrapped up in plastic, so it didn’t get wet, and layers of thick bandages under it gave it a bulky shape. His hair was buzzed short right now, but he did have a fabric cap on to keep it dry. For a second, he just appreciatively looked at the other. Taking in the entire visual intensely, like a blink, could change the scene and put it back to the hell he’s been living. Exhaustion bit at his heels in threat to put him asleep, making him pliable right now. He was thankful this was enough. Luke wasn’t expecting to define anything, but he couldn’t deny that it was nice for a change, to not lie about what he was. To dance around details, and explain with lies stacked with fake smiles. He could be honest most of the time, and he could learn so much from Otto that it was a bit mesmerizing. “Why are you so distractingly beautiful,” Luke hummed in tease, closing his eyes with a faint, small smile. “Can’t give an injured guy a break. Making my heart flutter too fast-- don’t kill me.” Probably too soon for that joke, but Luke said it anyway. 

A bath hadn’t been what Otto had been expecting to be asked for, but it was hardly the strangest request to be made. It was strange, this pattern of habits and things he found himself acquiescing to without a second thought whenever Lucas asked them of him. But the last thing he’d been anticipating when he opened the door was the state the other man turned up in; worn and weary, barely able to stand straight under the weight of his world crashing down on his shoulders. It stirred an immediate sense of discord and worry in his stomach, an unfamiliar and unpleasant sensation that he wasn’t all that accustomed to feeling around anyone. He wanted to ask what had happened, but common sense and general decency had him holding his tongue as he ushered Lucas in. Otto had gotten him to sit while he ran a bath; laden with bubbles and a few tinctures of lavender oil to help him relax - it seemed he needed all the help he could get in that department right now. Only then did he let Luke get in, while he perched on a small brick alcove his mildly amused expression thinly veiling the underlying concern that warbled about in his mind. Narratives constructing upon narratives to try and explain to himself what had done this much harm to a man so undeserving of such harm. It stoked a low-boiling anger, the intent and wish to see whoever was responsible for this punished to the deepest depths of hell and then some. “Rich coming from you good-lookin’,” Otto huffed in amusement leaning on the edge of the tub and flicking some bubbles in Lucas’ direction.

"Heyyy, come on," he pouted, offering up a hurt puppy expression that was god-tier in level as the bubbles dotted his cheeks and landed on his nose. Luke was exceptionally good at masking his pain with playfulness. Otto feeding into it was a relief in opposition to everyone else asking him a hundred times if he was okay when he so very clearly wasn't. He shifted up, pulling his shoulders from the water with a lap of scented water and leaned over where if he went a little more, he could almost lay his head in his lap if he wanted. "Just-- mmm," he displayed a tired but amused face for Otto to deal with, bubbles and all. Clearly content with letting them pop one at a time as they were exposed to the air of the room. "Thanks. For letting me escape a bit. Didn't want to put that on you-- since we've really not talked about things seriously between us. It seemed a lot to bring to your door. My issues, that is."

“Nope,” he answered, popping the p of the word for deliberate effect, Luke might’ve looked extremely cute right now but it didn’t detract from the current worry over his well-being. Otto had his questions, but he was versed in navigating people’s trauma well enough to know that it was a matter of giving them the space to open up in their own time. That was when you could delve in with the fine tooth comb and wheedle out the finer details. Still, he smiled fondly at Luke reaching out to lightly poke his nose “hey now don’t get water all over my floor,” he tsked as Luke leaned over the edge of the tub. He was quiet for a second before he tipped a shoulder, “s’alright, I get being fed up of people poking their noses in your business when you don’t want them to…” he looked at Luke for a long moment before he leaned back against the wall “you’re welcome to bring your issues and anything else to my door. It’s always open for you.”

Lucas settled, tucking his head on the edge. The bubbles popping loud to his sensitive ears but not annoying with the smell and company. Otto was open to letting him bring his mess here? Having another place to come made his chest warm in affection, glancing over to meet his eye in faint surprise. “Always?” He asked, but knew it to be already true. How lucky. That never, ever happens to him. Happiness blossomed in him and he mentally prepared himself to admit at least the rough issue he was being here today. “You know about hunters right? And I mean the ones born a certain way? Well, this one—“ he paused, wrinkling his brow gently. “It’s embarrassing admitting it, cause it feels like my fault most of the time, but he’s hurt me for a decade more now. Sorta, like a catch and release thing. I just found out how desensitized I am to all of it. I mean, I let him almost take my arm? I don’t even remember clearly, but I didn’t fight back. That is why my pack is handling it. He wants to take me— so I’m not allowed to be alone. Just in case he calls me or something and I leave without realizing it.”

Otto sat in silence for a little while, content simply to soak in the company and ambiance of the occasional pop of bubbles in the bath. His fingers drifted idly up and down the length of the side of the bath, slow and rhythmic in their action back and forth and back again. “If you need it or me, I’ll be there.” It was rare to get an assurance like that out of him, but something about Luke intrigued him in such a way it left him feeling somewhat compelled to agree. Even with the dangers. “I do,” he shifted to sit a little more upright then looking to Lucas as he started to recount what had happened. Briefly, his eyes drifted to the wrap of bandages that were secured around his arm. Well, that explained that he thought to himself. But the thought there was someone that could just… Make Luke leave without a single word or inclination to fight to stay? The thought stirred a churning worry in his gut, he found himself asking before he could even think “what are they doing to handle it?” There were ideas already rolling around his mind, potential solutions and things he could do to help. A gift perhaps. No one needed to know… Not even Lucas that way if this hunter got into his mind… He wouldn’t even think of getting rid of it. But perhaps the more pressing question that came to Otto’s mind was “what are you going to do about him?”

Luke lifted his injured arm onto the edge of the tub, and reached for the teasing trail of fingers. He spoke quietly about the pack, “yeah, they are trying to get him arrested. They might actually make it happen. As long as I don’t mess it up, or a surprise catches us off guard like last time.” The real question surfaced, and Lucas sat forward, the water lapping gently as to not spill it and kissed Otto’s knuckles, scenting the skin there, before resting his chin on his hand to pin it to the tub. Eyes shifting to warm honey yellow as he looked at the other, mind distant and fuzzy. “Hmm,” the sound came out as a slow exhale, but it was rumbled in his chest as a low growl. His lip twitched in a faint snarl, but it was reserved, controlled-- clearly Lucas has had this question on his mind for days. “I’m conflicted on that. Greatly conflicted, Otto. Sometimes-- there isn’t a right answer. It’s why I’m so troubled and tired.” He could see Otto’s mind reeling in subtle ways, and he was curious what his thoughts on it were. Maybe, he had a better idea. “You can tell me no if you don’t want to answer. But have you ever lived with regret? Regret not dealing with someone who wronged you? Or regret in causing something that you can’t take back?”

Somehow, Otto wasn’t sure that getting someone like this arrested was going to work. “And what’s to say he’ll actually stay there? That he won’t get released in five… ten… However many years and just be an even bigger issue?” If there was one thing he didn’t have faith in it was the justice system, he’d known more than enough people who had learned how to play the system and if this man was as conniving as he seemed Otto wasn’t sure typical means would keep him in place. The kiss was nice, but his mind was already working over contingencies. But Luke didn’t answer his question, only gave another in its place which didn’t satisfy what Otto wanted to know. “Yes, but what are they doing to catch him? And what are they doing to keep you safe?” What more could he do to help? For a moment, Otto chewed on his lip seeming to wrestle with himself over something unspoken, something that he didn’t wish to dredge up. “Not wronged, no. I’ve always... adjusted situations to suit me so that I’m not in a position to be wronged or double-crossed.” But regret? “That’s something wholly different…” he continued after a moment, looking down to where his fingers were pinned by Luke’s chin “we all have regrets and actions we want to take back… It’s how we learn to come to terms with them that I think is what matters the most…” He looked back to Luke, “what is it you regret? If it isn’t too much to ask?”

Luke was watching Otto in an all encompassing way, noticing those twitches of muscles, the chew on his lip, the change in his heart beat. His warm gaze darted over his face, listening carefully to his words, and still Luke found himself lucky to have another who cared about him. Hearing the unspoken because others have said the same thing. He didn’t speak right away. Digesting everything, the scope of the situation not lost on Luke, and how difficult it was to explain without admitting so much about him. “You see my point of view so clearly. Say, what I keep saying to my family and friends,” he admitted quietly, “even with this little information, you are so brilliant.” His complement wasn’t to distract, but in honest awe. “Mhm,” he sat up, resting both arms on the tub edge. The dull ache in his arm a frustrating reminder. “I regret I lost so much of myself, so much time, because I was so alone, but no more--” he shook his head, his features subtly shifted, little hair on his knuckles, his cheekbones denser. “No more. I know what I need to do, I’ll take care of him.” Lucas said, glancing up in a show of trust to said information knowing he could be reading it very wrong and Otto could tell him to get the fuck out. He couldn’t help it though. He wanted to go all in with Otto. “You want to help me with it?”

When there were things in your past you didn’t want to dredge up it was sometimes a matter of working to talk around a subject rather than directly referencing it. Or so he’d found over the last couple of months. It didn’t bear thinking about the amount of sleepless nights he still had thinking about the look on that man’s face, confusion, horror, shock as he collapsed back in the flickering darkness as red blossomed over the front of his uniform. He’d been here for a job, and he’d died by his own gun all because Otto had panicked. Even the memory was enough to leave him feeling vaguely nauseated. “Probably because they’re all trying to view you through a rose tinted lens. It’s not their fault, they want to only see the good in you… But there’s a shadow to every self and some of  our shadows cast larger than others.” That wasn’t to say people were inherently bad, but it was simply a point to recognise that sometimes there was darkness in people that would never fully be shifted. It was something you had to learn how to live and eventually make peace with. “But what they probably don’t consider is the feeling of losing control by someone else’s hand and wanting to re-establish that.. Else you live in fear of your life falling out of your control again if you don’t do something to get it back.” He could see the different stances on it, objectively uninvolved it was simply taking a step back to look at the larger framework and see where the pieces fell into place. “I’m just being realistic… Nothing brilliant about that.” The sudden shift in Luke might’ve been concerning, but Otto simply saw it as him taking up the decision to take back his life that had been so violently ripped from him. If anyone deserved to have their life back, their peace of mind and security it was Luke and Otto would do whatever was necessary to give that back to him. His eyes hardened a little at the question but no rebuttal came only a nod. “Of course. But we have to be smart about it. No rushing headfirst into this. We take our time and plan out every possible eventuality.”

“Yes, that’s exactly it,” he threaded fingers, tugging gently towards the tub. Not wanting to make it seem like he wasn’t taking it seriously, but he also felt content with everything enough to sigh in relief. Otto really did understand his dilemma. Mercy has as well, and though Luke hadn’t told anyone else, not even Miles yet; he felt validated in this difficult decision. Not that it was the best to contemplate killing someone, but there were other options that left Gotch forgetting Lucas Washington forever and if not. Well. Salva had said he’d keep Gotch away from him, maybe, the wolf could even scare him away. Give them more time. While the rest of the pack, Adam, and Sargent Roland worked on the evidence, in trying to build a case, Luke had a few others to cover him in the other direction. The one that wasn’t lined with uncertainty to his own well being, but could finally end his suffering. “Only you and one other person know I’ve been thinking differently. My brother will eventually, when I can face him over it,” he pulled a little more, thumb rubbing his wrist. “Get undressed-- come sit with me?” he asked quietly, “I know, this will have your mind spinning. It’s been mine for days now. I’m glad I told you, thank you for hearing me out.”

Otto tended to take the stance that the hardest decisions needed a fair bit of contemplation before being acted upon. He also knew that while there was magic that could certainly make someone forget - every magic had its limits and every spell could be unpicked if a person cared enough to try. Out of all their options, Otto only saw one way that would genuinely put an end to this once and for all. Not a path easily walked, but in the grand scheme of things you had to sometimes take the pill that was hardest to swallow for the best possible outcome. “Who else is involved so far?” he asked, moving his thumb to lightly rub over Luke’s skin. He rolled his eyes at Luke’s insistence that he undress and join him, “this bath is not big enough for the both of us and you’re not healed enough for that to not end in disaster… But you’re welcome,” though it didn’t dissuade his mind from lingering over possible reasons for what he could do to help Luke with this hunter that was apparently making his life a nightmare. “You’re going to turn into a prune if you stay in there for much longer anyways.”

“Hmm, I am pretty tall. Get a bigger tub for the future?” Lucas winked. He knew he was definitely oversized for it, but he also really wanted to pretend that he wasn’t injured and exhausted and could humor them squeezing in as proof. He conceded and pulled himself up out of the water, grabbing a soft towel to press into his skin and tie around his waist before stepping out. He took a minute to take the plastic off from his bandage, trying to wiggle his fingers with a stiffness and much difficulty before speaking. “All the wolves because I howled when I got attacked,” he admitted, “There’s quite a few of us. Sergeant Roland is looking into the police corruption bit. There’s hacking, cameras and wards from someone else. I think it’s eight or so people working the evidence angle.” He peered over, rubbing his arm. Lucas’ eye went a little distant then. Looking at Otto but not really focused on him as that piece of darkness in him swirled that Ivor Gotch will never stop. “I have probably a month. I’ll be healed up by the next full moon. He will know this. I’ll have to know then what I’m going to do. He’ll be coming-- he won’t quit this, and the next time I can’t imagine it will be just him and I. If he brings more beast hunters, more of his family, more violence period, we’re going to have a major werewolf vs hunter battle on our hands. There could be crossbows, guns, silvered weapons, it will be bad.” He paused again, a soft chuckle. “I’ll take any help though. Especially if it doesn’t have to end in that fight. If I can find him first, or anything but that.”

“You expect me to get a bigger tub just so I can join you? Presumptuous you’re worth that much effort hm?” A light needle all things considered, and a bath really wasn’t the sort of thing Otto ever thought to spend excessive amounts on. There were better things in life than a big bath. He listened making mental notes of what Luke said and noting anything that seemed important. “What wards?” There was no helping the fact that he’d probably come over and triple check everything was secure at Luke’s, the more secure it was the less chance there was of anyone tampering anything. There was also the fact Otto didn’t have any real trust or faith in anyone in this little hellmouth, everyone had a price they’d be willing to turn for. No matter how “good” intentioned they might appear. Plus from what little he knew of the police department, who knew what use they would be. “I can probably expedite that,” Otto said in regard to the healing and getting him in better shape. “And maybe I can help you train… Mentally, I’m good with illusions… If you can get me an image I can probably make something that looks like him…” it might not be the real thing, but learning to confront him might just help Luke not pause in the moment it would truly count.

“I’m joking,” Lucas shook his head, noticing that the other wasn’t letting him play as much since it was a more serious topic between them. “You can check them, I don’t know anything about it. I’ll give you my address.” Luke walked out to grab his bag and put on clean lounge pants. Sitting on the edge of the bed he was surprised at the offer. Different worries met his mind about it, but nothing overly against it. Lucas wondered if he could stay present while seeing Gotch in such a way. “It’s his voice that gets me, more than his face. It triggers something in my head, I just shut down. But I don’t feel like that’s a bad idea. I might be able to handle seeing him better than I think. After this last attack-- I think he’s finally pushed me too far. Hopefully the sickness attached over him torturing me for so long can be swallowed down with practice.” He leaned across the bed towards the dresser and grabbed his phone, and flipped to an email between him and Miles. The snapshot of the man came into view making his chest tightened immediately challenging his words. He flipped the phone over so Otto could see that he was a decorated cop as well. “So I have physical therapy soon, and training back on the football field to get back in shape how I like to go about it. It will take a little bit of work, but I’d like to heal on my own. Let my mind remember this one-- cause in the past I didn’t so much.” 

“I know you are doofus,” Otto poked him in the shoulder before pushing up to his feet and pulling the plug to drain the water out. “Alright, I’ll stop by later to check them and make sure they’re up to scratch.” He didn’t know whether Luke would take up the offer he laid out, it was a potentially dangerous thing to toy around with but if it helped him to confront this man then Otto would work on figuring it out. “I’m not sure I could do anything about the voice since i haven’t heard him…” he admitted, taking the phone when Luke offered it out to peer at the image. He made a sound under his breath, “mind if I send this to myself?” Though he was already tapping through the options to share it to himself via Luke’s texts, he’d have to work on it and see what he could come up with. Still, he glanced over at Luke when he mentioned wanting to get better naturally. “If you’re sure… But if you’re serious about taking this dude on about ending this once and for all… You need to be in top form - physically and mentally.”

“I was already in peak shape when he attacked me and it didn’t matter,” Luke said, nodding about him taking the photo and information from the email. “I am technically, still in the best shape I’ve been in minus my arm being useless right now. As long as I rest and eat enough, I’ll heal up faster and get back on my regimen. It’s just the nerves and tendons that seem to be struggling. If I can heal up on my own from a headshot--” he winced a little, the two starburst scars on his chest ached lightly. After everything this last time-- he almost forgot this guy put him in the ground once, the urgency to ending this blaring just by looking at him. “Well, then I was alone. I’m not now.” Luke nodded again, and gave a fond smile towards Otto. “I’m sure, we can call him too. If I’m not alone with it-- it should be okay. If you need that. He will pick up, he won’t be able to help himself. If you think, it’s safe too. Don’t want him tracing it back to you.”

“Physically yes, what about mentally?” Otto asked but from what Luke had already told him he already knew the answer to his question, this man had subjected Luke to a highly extended period of suffering and conditioning. To elicit a fear response out of him and that was something that Luke would need to grow familiar and comfortable with enough to fight back against its grip. “Have you thought about therapy?” while he wanted to help with these things, Otto wondered whether professional input would actually be a good idea. As they left the bathroom, Otto rubbed his hands together the hum of his magic warm and familiar at his fingertips just waiting to be used. “No. I don’t think that’s a good idea. The less he knows the better… We’ll make do with what we have.”

“I have actually went already, I plan on going again. It’s hard, but the work would be worth it,” Luke said about the therapy, he didn’t like it, but he knew he needed help to get over things. His gaze went on Otto’s hands while he rubbed them together, and it was still something else to see him so eager. Even more so with magic which wasn’t a topic they spoke much about. “I know, you want to help me right away, and it’s kinda incredible,” he reached out with his good arm, wanting to touch him. “But I’m on a strict no stress diet for like two weeks. I’m down for the idea though. It would be invaluable to me.” He huffed a little, he was already quite tired after the warm water and nice atmosphere. “For now, tonight at least. Just being here is helping me more than you know. You okay with letting me crash?”

“Okay good,” that was good, wasn’t it? The fact that Luke was taking the time to work on those things as well as the physical because this battle wasn’t just as simple as fighting a man and being done with it. It was fighting the years of demons and trauma as well. Right now there were several things on his mind, magic and helping Luke being one of several moving parts within his life. That said, Otto mentally paused when Luke mentioned staying, this was becoming a bit regular… And while he didn’t mind it per se a part of him was keenly aware that there had to be some distance reinstated. “Yeah, uh- ‘course… I guess you can stay if you want, I’ve got a few things I need to stay up and finish first.”

“Yeah?” Lucas knew he was intruding, he knew he was being needy with someone that didn’t have to humor him, but Lucas really did enjoy Otto’s presence. Even in the lowest acquaintance level of capacity in chatting. Luke unfortunately to some, got attached quickly with anyone he enjoyed time with. It was always a problem for him and caused high levels of disappointment when he ultimately ruined things. “I know, I came with weird requests. You don’t have to say yes to me. I can handle a no. I’m grateful for the relaxation, even if just for a moment. Everyone else around me is on high alert, and it's a tiring emotion, even if they are worried for a good reason.” Taking his phone back, he glanced down at the image still there before closing it and texting one of the wolves to keep them on the know. It was still strange having people worry over him, or checking in on his schedule, or whereabouts.  

Otto wasn’t entirely sure what the best response to this situation was, Luke was still recovering but equally he seemed to be latching on in any way possible and Otto wasn’t all too keen with the idea of becoming a damn wolf whisperer. He had enough issues in his own life to warrant taking on too many belonging to other people. He didn’t want other people’s burdens. No matter how nice the person they belonged to seemed to be. In all honesty, the speed with which Luke moved was far too much for his mind to process and catch up to. He’d only been interested in a bit of fun, and somehow had landed himself in a position he was definitely neither equipped for both mentally and emotionally. “I mean…” he stalled trying to process the best way to say this without hurting Luke’s feelings “I get that must be tiring but they’re doing it to keep you safe. If you need to crash here… You can but…  honestly, I uh, wasn’t expecting it…”

Luke suspected, and he was easy going enough to not let it be weird. “It’s seriously fine,” he reassured. “I’m sorry if I bothered you though. Guess I was being a little selfish, trying to grasp at anything that wasn’t--” the word painful lingering there but he didn’t say it. He grabbed his stuff, “maybe if you still have interest in the illusion bit with Gotch-- well. I’d appreciate the help, but no pressure. I’m working on it, it’s been--” He didn’t know how to word it exactly, not sure if it was important enough to explain. “Alright-- I’m out. See ya,” he offered a tired grin, though it wasn’t at the vibrant capacity it was weeks prior. 

Otto flexed his fingers and uncurled them for a moment, watching Luke’s expression to try and gauge his reaction. Not the worst thing in the world. “It isn’t a bother, I just...” what? What did he want? “I guess I just don’t want you to become too dependent on other people is all… I’m happy to help, but at the end of the day this is your path to walk, you know?” And that was the truth as far as Otto could speak it. “I’ll work on something for the illusions though..” he trailed off, but gave a small nod moving to open the door and see Luke out. As the other’s form vanished down the stairs, Otto let out a sigh through his nose, why was this all so complicated?

[shuhanxu-tina]

SDES9321-3D Digital Aesthetics

Themes: Coming of age-A Childhood Memory

Regarding the subject of ‘coming of age’, I have to think of Hayao Miyazaki’s cartoons. Hayao Miyazaki, Japanese animator, animator, cartoonist, animation director, and animation screenwriter, won the 87th Oscar for Lifetime Achievement Award.. Hayao Miyazaki’s classics include "Castle in the Sky", "Nausicaa", "My Neighbor Totoro", "Kiki's Delivery Service", "Spirited Away", "Princess Mononoke", "Howl's Moving Castle" and so on.

Most of Miyazaki's animation works involve the relationship between humans and nature, pacifism and feminism. The animation films produced are unique in the world of animation with superb technology, moving stories and warm styles, and are welcomed by people all over the world.

The greatest contribution of Hayao Miyazaki's films is that his works continue the precise capture of the beauty of the peaceful life of the Orientals.

  Regarding "Spirited Away", some say that this is not only a story of growth, but also an exploration of the preciousness of memories, warning adults not to forget their original intentions; some say that the soup house in the work and the waiters with different images are in the society A true portrayal of the enterprise; some connected with real life, with the topic of'don't eat too much, you will be killed', and analyzed the hidden risks brought by the'free' service.

In fact, it is not only a story, but this work also has enough charm in terms of pictures and storyboards.

The storyboard is a design drawing for animation production. It is an effective means for the director or performer to convey the intention to the original artist. It also reflects the amount of information in the lens, which ultimately affects the audience's viewing experience.

Hayao Miyazaki's depiction of light and shadow in the lens is very persistent, and this is also the place that best reflects its uniqueness. In addition, Miyazaki not only pays attention to details, but also has clear control over the overall situation, and will give clear instructions to different departments in the content column.

Panoramic composition, because of the spaciousness and inclusiveness of the picture space, it fits well with the narrative style that Hayao Miyazaki has said. It does not need close-ups to emphasize emotions, but uses panoramic composition to guide the audience to slowly feel the atmosphere created by the picture. , Will naturally reveal the emotion contained in it.

 The panoramic composition picture can also provide a larger reserved space for the character's movement range, so as to slow down the rhythm of the film and create a subtle and soothing atmosphere.

 "My Neighbor Totoro" delicately shows the beautiful rural scenery of the Japanese countryside, snow-white floating clouds, towering trees, and green fields, using a panoramic composition method to show a poetic beauty that isolates impetuousness and noise.

The intersecting line composition can make people feel unstable and unbalanced, and different intersecting lines can produce a certain sense of movement.

 When expressing the distant view, Hayao Miyazaki often uses the diagonal composition to give people a sense of movement and strength, so as to highlight the momentum of the picture and enhance the visual impact of the picture. Using the X-shaped composition can maximize the viewer's attention to the center of the screen, showing a strong sense of depth.

 For example, in "Spirited Away", Chihiro and his parents passed through a deep tunnel to enter the hidden world of no one. Hayao Miyazaki used the form of X-shaped distant view composition to express the streets and shops, and arranged the characters on the screen The central location and the deep space of the scenery expand the path of the character, greatly increase the space for expression, and create a sense of mystery in an unfamiliar world.

Straight line composition often appears in Hayao Miyazaki’s animated films. Horizontal line composition is used to express the grandeur of the big scene. When expressing the vastness and flatness of the fields and the calm blue of the lake, this composition form can divide the picture in parallel to reflect Create a calm and stable static beauty.

 Adding figures and objects on the horizontal line to form a diagonal line or dot that crosses it, which increases the level of the picture while also breaking the monotony of the horizontal line.

 Because of its strong sense of form, the vertical line composition gives people a solemn and solemn visual experience by influencing the movement of the line of sight. It is often used when expressing the tall and majestic buildings and the dense forests.

 For example, in "Nausicaa", the group of ancient trees arranged vertically on the bottom of the sea of rotten permeates a mysterious atmosphere that is inaccessible. The rays of sunlight shining through the gaps of the trees contrast with the vertical lines of the forest and reduce the vertical lines. The majesty that it brings, the texture of the texture of the trees illuminated by the light, and the diffuse weapons, make the whole picture render a hazy romantic lyrical atmosphere.

[howdoyousayghibli]

Miyazaki Finally Gives Up the Pretense, Makes Film About Man Who Draws Planes for a Living

“Spoiler culture” gets a lot of hate these days, and I get it. There’s a fine line between “how hard is it to not talk about the plot of a movie you just saw on social media” and “how hard is it to stay off social media for a little bit until you’ve seen the movie.”

I get the annoyance with spoiler culture, but I also remember the circumstances that led to our current situation. I remember the mid-2000s, when trailers had half the movie in them — and if that wasn’t enough, the movie’s official website usually went the rest of the way. I remember poring over detailed rosters of every character set to appear in an upcoming X-Men movie. Even Pixar fell into the over-sharing trap — The Incredibles villain Syndrome, who doesn’t appear until a good chunk of the movie has passed, had a bio on the official website with his “powers” and evil plan right there for 12-year-old Chase to read all about. 

This led to teenage Chase making a conscious decision to not seek out information about movies that he already wanted to see, a policy I still roughly adhere to today. My greatest success was with Ant-Man, which I managed to see in theaters without having seen a single trailer. Usually, though, it means I just stick to teaser trailers. 

This go-in-blind mentality is never easier than when writing these reviews, since there’s not exactly a marketing blitz, past or current, for Hayao Miyazaki’s The Wind Rises. So far, I think my policy of avoiding both trailers and reviews of these movies has served me well, helping me to form my own thoughts without being biased one way or another. Unfortunately, this policy may have done more bad than good with this particular movie.

The Wind Rises was released in 2013, and is (for now) the last film directed by Miyazaki. It’s a dramatized biopic of Jiro Horikoshi, designer of Japan’s infamous “Zero” fighter planes — but you wouldn’t guess that from the movie itself. Not knowing anything of the film going in, I assumed I was watching a historical drama, like From Up on Poppy Hill or Grave of the Fireflies. As such, I was confused at the pace of the movie, which skips freely through large portions of Horikoshi’s life. The rapid and largely unannounced jumps in time and the lack of chyrons made it difficult for me to get a handle on the time period — although I’ll admit it probably wouldn’t be nearly so difficult for someone native to Japan, who could likely guess closely enough from the clothes, architecture, and other context clues. 

Beyond being confused about the setting, though, my lack of foreknowledge of The Wind Rises left me confused about the story the movie was telling. When you know a story is based on true events, it changes how you experience it. Studio Ghibli already departs from traditional Western ideas of storytelling and structure, and when you throw real-world subject matter into the mix, it goes further afield still. 

This is all to say: I think I would’ve enjoyed The Wind Rises more if I’d understood what it was beforehand. It’s a bit like how I kept waiting for the magic to show up in Whisper of the Heart, only it was a bigger, structural issue — something just felt off, until I pulled up the movie’s Wikipedia page after it ended and suddenly things clicked into place. 

Is the movie at fault for not spelling out its premise? Even the trailer doesn’t mention that it’s based on a real person. More than ever, I think that cultural differences may play a role here. I get the feeling that Jiro Horikoshi is relatively well-known in Japan; it would make all the difference watching this movie if you were vaguely aware of Horikoshi’s name and achievements.

As for the movie itself: it’s breathtakingly beautiful. The animation is almost insultingly lavish, like the third dining room on an episode of Cribs. Horikoshi’s glasses distort your view of his face, just like in real life. There’s a close-up involving a moving slide rule that made me gasp with its detail. The Wind Rises portrays Horikoshi as a dreamer, and his dreams constantly leak into the world around him, to wondrous effect.

The audio work is similarly audacious. Horikoshi’s (and Miyazaki’s) infatuation with flying machines breathes life into them, reflected not only in the lively way they’re animated, but also in the choice to use human vocals for the sound effects. The planes literally hum, roar, and gasp — never quite approaching cartoonish personification, but instead letting us see them through the engineer’s eyes. 

Other aspects of The Wind Rises aren’t quite as thrilling. I think there’s something very worthwhile in the film’s message on trying to make something beautiful in a world bent on cruelty, but it’s a bit muddied by a strange insistence that creative people have only 10 years to produce their life’s work. It’s an oddly specific limit, made even odder by Miyazaki’s own prolific career — at the time of this film’s release, his directing career alone stretched over 34 years. This may sound like nitpicking, but the 10 years number basically bookends the film, so I feel justified in calling shenanigans. 

Equally odd is the film’s love story. While beautiful and charming at times, it ends on an strange and unsatisfying note that makes me question the purpose of including it at all; did they simply feel that they couldn’t make a whole movie only about designing planes? If so, they could’ve done more to integrate the two stories, especially since this plot line was already entirely fabricated. 

To end on a positive note: the voice cast for this film is impossibly stacked. You’ve got Horikoshi voiced by Joseph Gordon-Levitt, his work buddy voiced by John Krasinski, his boss voiced by Martin Short, Emily Blunt as his love interest, Mae Whitman as his little sister, Werner Herzog as his random German friend, Stanley Tucci as his Italian dream-friend, Zach Callison as young Horikoshi, and Elijah Wood in a role so small I literally can’t figure out what it was. It should be difficult to pick a favorite among such a lineup — and they all do great work here — but the runaway winner is, of course, Werner Herzog. The raspy voice and dry humor he brings to the sympathetic Castorp are a highlight of an already beautiful movie. 

I fully expect that, when I read other reviews of The Wind Rises, they will have only the highest praise for it. I can see where they’re coming from; this is a movie with breathtaking visuals, an innovative soundscape, a moving message, and talented cast. For me, however, those individual elements aren’t brought together in the service of a compelling story.

Up Next: The Tale of Princess Kaguya! It’s the last film directed by the late Isao Takahata and I’m ready to be emotionally destroyed. It’s also the second-to-last Ghibli movie (as of 2019), which is wild! Will I finish these reviews before the year ends?? The suspense is killing me!

Alternate Titles: The Wind Rises: Because No One Wanted to Put Poppy Hill on Their Best-of-the-Decade Lists