#her resentment and anger consumed her until she was not only fully willing to commit violence against sam but actively enjoying it

[samfordpines]

Thinking about this one weird c!ponk neg post i clowned on a long time ago with my friends and now that the dsmp is over i think i was too harsh on it for their characterization of c!ponk. Truly they were ahead of their time on that one

[corvidiss]

For the character solidifying asks!

1 for Ambrose (you can either just talk about Victor or switch 'father' to 'fathers' and talk about both Victor and Henry)

49 for Adelaide

*rubs hands again* sweet sweet procrastination :D

1. How does your character think of their fathers? What do they hate and love about them? What influence - literal or imagined - did the fathers have?

Ambrose... does not have too high an opinion of Victor, as you can imagine. Before Henry started talking to him, Ambrose hated Victor with a passion, for abandoning him to a life of hell. I think that, while to begin with (when he learned of Victor's existence and role as Ambrose's creator) he was bitter and confused, that confusion turned to despondency, and when Felix beat him and drove him out, it became hateful anger, fuelled further by the bitterness. I don't believe he fully intended to do anything drastic and was still only looking for a way to be happy up until he killed William – an accident caused by his inhuman strength – and from then on, he sort of committed himself to that path. What else could he do? He'd dug himself into this trench and couldn't see a better way out of it than to keep digging and hope he reached the other side. At least it had got Victor's attention at last.

And even after Victor and Henry decided to fulfil Ambrose's wishes and headed to Scotland, Ambrose still burned with the anger he had come to sustain himself upon. All he genuinely wanted was someone to love him and peace to live the rest of his days unbothered by the prejudice of human kind.

Which brings me on to Henry. When Ambrose met Henry, Henry was the first person to ever show even a hint of open compassion for him. Old De Lacey had accepted him for some time, but he couldn't see the monster Ambrose believed himself to be. Henry persuaded Victor to hear out the Creature's tale, and watched him with a compassionate gaze unlike any other Ambrose had ever been subject to.

This, I think, set their relationship off to a good start. Although while Victor and Henry travelled to Scotland and began to set up, Ambrose was determined to get what he had demanded and leave thereafter, the more he spoke with Henry, the more he felt the acceptance that he had been desperate for all his life. Henry was, naturally, wary of him and a little disturbed (Ambrose was a walking corpse his boyfriend brought to life from graverobbed pieces, after all) but over time he saw the crusted mask of rage and despair crack and slip from Ambrose's features, to reveal the wounded, lonely child beneath. And with this unveiling came more compassion, more comforting, more acceptance. By the time that Victor was piecing together Adelaide, Ambrose had had his desires almost fulfilled in Henry's companionship.

In the end, this made for a close relationship. While it takes Ambrose years to understand, forgive and appreciate Victor (and the same of Victor to him), Henry is the father Ambrose should have had from the very beginning. He slips up, of course – no parent is perfect – but he's there and he's willing to help in whatever way he can. Until Adelaide comes along, he's the closest and most precious thing in Ambrose's life, and even after she comes into the picture, Henry is Ambrose's go-to person when he needs to talk about something.

Ambrose's relationship with Victor does heal over time. He sees how Henry treats and looks at Victor, and Henry talks about him like he's the most incredible person ever, and when Ambrose is ready, Henry explains for Victor why he did what he did, and how Victor is often consumed by the guilt of his actions – not just because of William and Justine, but now because of how he ruined Ambrose's life too; and eventually Ambrose comes to see the grief beneath Victor's hard countenance and the guilt in his sharp movements, and begins to pity him too. There are many arguments and conflicts before peace is finally achieved between them, but they reach it in the end.

Just realised I deviated from the question a whole bunch so:

Ambrose loves how open and kind Henry is, and loves how he sees the world in such a delighted manner; that on top of being the first human being to show him compassion, of course. I think Ambrose loves almost everything about Henry (aside from minor annoyances every child experiences) – except, before his relationship with Victor improved, he hated that Henry cared about Victor so much. It would be easier to hate someone if the person you look up to most in the world didn't love them so dearly.

Ambrose hated Victor a lot, as previously described – but over time comes to love things about him too. He begins to admire Victor's dedication, and sees how much Victor cares about the people he loves; this, perhaps, was something that made Ambrose want to gain Victor's love for himself instead of maintaining hostility. He resents how distant and cold Victor can be, but appreciates blunt honesty sometimes, and has to acknowledge how happy he seems to make Henry.

As you can imagine, both Henry and Victor had profound influences on Ambrose. I don't think I need to go into any more detail about the effects of Victor's abandonment and of Henry's acceptance and compassion, so I'll spare you any more rambling. :)

49. What about voice? Pitch? Strength? Tempo and rhythm of speech? Pronunciation? Accent?

Oooh good question. Adelaide speaks very carefully, because she's a little self-conscious of her speaking ability, but as a result she sounds very gentle and communicates well. She doesn't miss syllables or consonants and pronounces each sound properly. Her voice comes across as high-pitched on first impression, but is actually a little deeper than most women's; she just talks so sweetly it tricks the brain into thinking that she must be a small girl with a high voice.

In terms of strength, she speaks very softly; even when she raises her voice (which she doesn't often do and only a little when she does) it still has a soft sound.

She has an almost poetic rhythm to her speech too; because she makes sure to say everything correctly, her tempo is regulated and her emphasis carefully placed. Some people might assume she's an avid reader of poetry or even a poet herself, but in actual fact she just listens to Henry a lot.

For accent – she learned to speak in French, with a mostly Genevan accent, but later on when she and Ambrose begin to learn English too and interact with some people outside the family, she will develop a Scottish lilt to her tone, which sort of bleeds back into her French as well.

[movieswithkevin27]

Dracula

A truly horrifying descent into Dracula lore and superstition, Francis Ford Coppola's take on Dracula is far longer than the original 1931 version, yet so much more terrifying to watch. Demonstrating the backstory to Dracula (Gary Oldman) and providing the vicious vampire with more depth and emotional connection than in the original, Coppola allows his central monster to be felt as an extremely human character who only turned to evil as an expression of his incredible pain. With all of the classic characters from Bram Stoker's Dracula popping up throughout this film, Coppola's bloody descent into the very depths of hell set in Transylvania is one that lingers in the air like a dense, blue or green fog. Chilling to one's very soul, Coppola's take on Dracula may be infamous for the poor acting of Keanu Reeves, but it is so much more than anticipated.

With Gary Oldman portraying the titular monster, Coppola's take on Dracula is one laced with menace from the very beginning. Sinister, morose, and sadistic, images of Dracula's demonic horde of women seducing Keanu Reeves' Jon Harker or consuming a baby for strength are seared into the very fabric of this film. However, comes after revealing what has sent Dracula into this hellish descent into sin with Satan as his tour guide. Renouncing God and stabbing a crucifix after learning that his enemies had deceived his bride Elisabeth (Winona Ryder) into believing he was dead, which caused her to kill herself, Dracula turns his back on the Lord rather violently and becomes a vampire. Capturing souls for Satan via the seduction of spiritually vulnerable women such as Lucy Westenra (Sadie Frost), Dracula's discovery that Jonathan is set to marry Mina (Winona Ryder) who is a spitting image of Elisabeta is one that sets him on a course for London. Roping her into his world of sin and evil, Dracula is a man who is intent on mending his broken heart and delves into sin, immortality, and violence, as a method of soothing this ache in his now-dead soul. A shockingly tragic figure who, along with his minions, commits abhorrent violence, Dracula is a man who instills fear into the hearts of all those who hear of him and his ways. Yet, through his anguish, he becomes a man who is sympathetic in the sense that he was once a force for good who, through loss, let his soul and sword be used a weapon of Satan.

It is through this that the film's demonic exploits work in spite of the controversy surrounding them and why the film's "love conquers all" finale is so powerful. Tempting and using sin as a weapon against their targets, Coppola shows the bare-breasted demonic concubines seducing Jonathan by sliding through his spread legs and presenting themselves for his pleasure. Seducing him into lusting after them and committing a sin of the flesh, the women secure Jonathan's soul via this method. The disorienting camera work from Coppola and the decision to end the scene by showing the women swarm around a baby to drink its blood make the scene one that sends chills throughout the viewer's entire being. Yet, together with the characterization of Lucy as a sinful, worldly, and intensely sexual seductress of the men in her life, the film demonstrates the path by which one's soul is corrupted. Giving into this temptation leaves them open to sin, one which Lucy fully embraces and one that Jonathan stands strong and resists.

This descent into hell and corruption of good is demonstrated in Mina as well. At the beginning, she is envious of Lucy. Well-mannered, strict, and hardly a seductress, Mina is shocked to see nude images in a copy of Arabian Nights. When Lucy sees these images, however, she explains to Mina what is going on, giggles, and puts deviously sexual thoughts into Mina's head and expresses her own. Planting these seeds of sin, Mina is set up perfectly for the arrival of Dracula. Unleashing her inner sexual being, he gives her the carnal pleasure she so desires in the scene in which he takes turns her into a vampire. With Jonathan - her husband - unwilling to go into such sexuality even with his wife, she turns to Dracula as the only possible source of this pleasure and the one who makes her feel most in touch with her most forbidden desires. Demonstrating the immediate ecstasy and pleasure garnered from giving into temptation, Dracula quickly shows the downside with Mina expressing immediate regret and guilt over her sin when she collapses into Jonathan's arms after Dracula leaves.

It is through this necessary hellish descent into sin that Coppola expresses the soul of Dracula. A torn, broken, and hideously sinful man, he resents God so he corrupts those that would belong to Him. Putting sin, lust, and deceit, into their hearts due to the wrongs that he perceives to have been done to him, Dracula brings the hellish hurt and anguish of his soul onto the Earth in order to spread the pain, hunger, and forbidden lust that he feels in his soul. He is a man who cannot suffer alone, thus he brings lost souls along with him. Seeing the goodness in Mina, he does show hesitation before finally going along and giving into his temptation to bring her soul with him into the pits of hell. This demonic, often shocking, and deeply horrifying portrayal, is what really lays the ground work for this film to often feel akin to a Vampire-laden version of The Exorcist. Armed with a Bible and a crucifix, Professor Van Helsing (Anthony Hopkins) performs many an exorcism throughout this film and serves as the chief-beheader of vampires in the film. Chewing significant amounts of scenery throughout, Hopkins' priestly role is demonstrably different than his subtle and reserved performance a year prior in The Silence of the Lambs. Yet, he is every bit as good here as he stands as the damaged, broken, and often just as dark figure that stands in Dracula's way and is intent on finally sending his soul to hell where it belongs.

These representations of absolute evil against the face of Christianity - the cross - the film ends the only way it can: redemption and salvation. As a fairy tale about a hurt man who turns his back on Christ, the film ends by finally giving him the spiritual closure he wanted for so long. Through the love of Mina, Dracula's soul is finally released from his chambers in the pits of hell, the crucifix he destroyed is fixed, and he is restored to his youthful ways as a soldier from a by-gone era, though finally dead. A powerful salvation sequence for a man who was such a force of evil, the film's truly beautiful and emotional finale is one that demonstrates the beauty and forgiving nature of God. Though Dracula had turned his back on him in anger and pain, God never forgot his son and is willing to once more wrap him under his wing when Dracula is finally willing to turn his back on Satan and the rage inside him. In essence, he had become a prisoner of Satan via that rage and grief, which forced him into nothing more than a constant spiral of anguish. He was unable to come out of it until he finally felt the love of his beloved Mina once more. Able to bring him out of his spiritual trance, Dracula's soul is saved and his sins are forgiven. No longer must he dredge about in the dark, lurking in the shadows, and be consumed by his guilt and terror. Now, he is engulfed in a ray of light at the end of the film and finally lifted back up to where he belongs as a man who fought for the Church so many years ago.

Prior to this powerful finale, Coppola delivers a horror film of tremendous proportion, namely due to fantastic directorial work and lighting. Perhaps his greatest trademark is the usage of lighting with the chiaroscuro lighting in The Godfather being infamous and even his usage of light through the windows in Peggy Sue Got Married being incredibly ingenious. Here, Coppola relies on the lack of light and shadows to communicate the terror and horror of the film. With Dracula's shadow always seeming to act independently of his body, we see it strangle Jonathan when Dracula sees an image of Mina. Later, we see it turn between bats and wolves or creep about in his absence. Along with allowing Dracula to hide amongst the fog and be nothing more than a wisp of wind, Coppola provides the film with a consistently ominous feeling. It is hard to not believe that Dracula is always right around the corner, waiting for his next victim to just walk a few feet until he is in his grasp. Terrifying and always a nice touch in the cinematography, this usage of shadows is one that Coppola is certainly known for but one that perfectly for this gothic-set horror romance.

Coppola's directorial muscle is also flexed in one of the true highlights of the film. Cross-cutting between Lucy being consumed by Dracula's wolf form as she is mounted via missionary position with the wolf biting her neck and the scene of Mina and Jonathan getting married in Romania with the ceremonial drinking of the blood of Christ and kissing to seal the marriage, the film is chilling. Showing the ritualistic nature of both and juxtaposing the sanctity and beauty of the wedding ceremony with the violent brutality of the vampire-ing ceremony in Lucy's bedroom, Coppola creates a sin similar to the infamous cross-cutting in The Godfather. Going between the brutal murders of those who oppose Don Corleone and the Don baptizing his son, Coppola juxtaposes the horror and blood with the beauty of this family moment. In Dracula, he goes back to that very same well to very chilling effect, showcasing the ritualistic nature of both but with very different outcomes in the two separate occurrences. A chilling moment that rides on the brutal juxtaposition between these two vastly opposing forces of good and evil, Coppola's directorial instinct is shown to be just as sharp as ever with this sequence.

The film's use of sound, especially, in the climax is also noticeable and quite apt. Thrilling, unsettling, disorienting, and disquieting, the frequent cuts by the camera and the heart racing and unappealing music combine to make the climax one that is as horrifying to watch and hear as it is to experience. It captures the moment brilliantly, sending chills down the viewer's spine and truly making them feel the moment in every gory and uncomfortable detail. Though brilliantly put together and crafted by Coppola and his team, the scene is one that is hard to watch due to how rapid, disorienting, and how jarring the music often can become. As a result, it often stands as one of the greatest achievements of this film as a work of horror. Though scenes such as the ones in Castle Dracula with the baby or Jonathan being attacked by the demonic women are chilling and unsettling, it is partially due to what is on-screen as much as it is about Coppola's jarring close-ups and cutting in the moment. With the climax, the cuts combine with the off-beat and chilling score to make this race to the Castle embarked upon by Dracula and Van Helsing's team one that plays far scarier and horrifying than a simple chase sequence. It is one laced with tension, building to a crescendo that works perfectly and leaves the audience both satisfied and hungering for more.

The film's production design is similarly brilliant, especially in Castle Dracula. Dark, ominous, and brooding, the looming image of Dracula in his youth that is hanging constantly right behind his now aged appearance, is a great touch and one that truly sets the mood perfectly. As in all great gothic horror films, the sets become a character and deliver just as much tension and chill as any directorial decision that Coppola could make. With these long, dark hallways looming ominously all over the set, the home of Dracula and the surrounding area is one that fits perfectly into how one would imagine the home of Dracula to look and it is just as scary. Compared to the 1931 film, Coppola did not have to make the home dirty and unkempt to make it eerie. Instead, it allowed the barrenness of the home and terrifying mystery of what secrets and people the home hides do that job.

A near-perfect work from a legend of the directing world, Dracula is a film whose merits have been questioned in the years since its release due to Keanu Reeves. Though he is awkward in his role as Jonathan, he is hardly in this film long enough to make a noticeable impact on the film's quality. With a strong cast otherwise - especially Gary Oldman as Dracula, Hopkins as Van Helsing, and Winona Ryder in a stunningly nuanced and strong turn as Mina - the film hardly bears the brunt of some of Reeves' awkwardness. Even then, he is hardly all that bad, just out-acted by his incredibly talented counter-parts. Beautifully designed with smart themes regarding love, evil, sin, and forgiveness, Coppola's take on Bram Stoker's Dracula is far more expansive than the one starring Bela Lugosi and, as a result, it resonates far more on an emotional level and winds up being all the more horrifying as well.