#hunka hunka burnin love’

[s1tanii]

𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕥. ᴛʜᴇ 𝔼𝕝𝕧𝕚𝕤 𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕥.

[thatbanditqueen]

That time the Golden Girls Started an Elvis Fan Club

Are you a Rose, Blanche or Dorothy in this scenario?

@vintageshanny @from-memphis-with-love @whositmcwhatsit @shakerattlescroll @ellie-24 @peskybedtime @lookingforrainbows @be-my-ally @missmaywemeetagain @powerofelvis @eapep @ab4eva

[captainpirateface]

[honeyedlashton]

OMG WAKE UP!!

Coming on my girl blog to say I wanna see Ashton in a Magnum PI-esque outfit. Like a little oversized button down thats unbuttoned like too low full chest hair out, and like short shorts or little form fitting jeans that make his butt look good? Plus if he grew a mustache???

I’m droolinggggg…. Like it’s not even that much of stretch…..

Grow out the mustache…

[syoddeye]

cozy fic recs 🍁🎃

it's been 84 years since i've compiled a rec list, but with cooler weather incoming, here are some fics/drabbles/concepts to settle in and cozy up with. want something scarier? check the spooky list.

no longer updating

as usual:

beyond the cut, you are responsible for reading tags, warnings, and summaries. some fics are in progress, so keep in mind that warnings and tags may change.

organized by pairing if applicable.

i've checked all the links, but if they're broken, i blame tumblr. i've included enough info to find the fic if need be.

do not harass authors. i will find you.

price x reader

Invisible Red Line by @mikichko | transmasc!Reader

I Wonder How Many Days I'll Bled by thethingsthatimake | f!Reader

Already Spoken For by @stellewriites | trans!Price x f!Reader

Price Dressing You Up by @tojisun | f!Reader

The Prowl by @cordeliawhohung | f!Price

Ursa Major by @the-californicationist | f!Reader

Price and Your Terrible Family by @391780 | f!Reader

Hygiene Care with Price by @secretsynthetic | Reader

Fall from Grace by @tropes-and-tales | f!Reader

Not What Was Sought by @dozeydaisy

ghost x reader

Transferrable Skills by @dragonnarrative-writes | f!Reader

Autistic Burnout by @dutiful-wildcraft | m!OC Darren "Thumper" Martin

Mail Order Bride by @bi-writes | f!Reader

Through Me (The Flood) by @peachesofteal | f!Reader

Snowblind by @sprout-fics | f!OC Fix

Star of the Show by @inkbybambi | f!Reader

Synthetic by @pricegouge | transmasc!Reader

A Reminder by @waiting-so-long | f!Reader

Landslide by @knightjpg | f!Reader

gaz x reader

The Five Year Plan by @wraithdance | f!Reader

Blackbird, Fly by @eowynstwin | f!Reader

Piccadilly Circus by @/391780 | f!Reader

Attentive by @/391780 | f!Reader

Picture Day by @kyletogaz | f!Reader

The Uni Verse by @/kyletogaz | f!Reader

Hit Me With Your Best Shot by @sentientcave | f!OC Rory

Spoiling Kyle @/buttdumplin | transmasc!Reader

A Ride Home @/buttdumplin | Reader

No Hard Feelings by @groguspicklejar | f!Reader

Boyfriend Material by @/groguspicklejar | f!Reader

You're an Angel, I'm a Dog by @cordeliawhohung | f!Reader

Suck it and See by @pfhwrittes | transmasc!Reader

Delete Tinder by @/pricegouge | f!Reader

soap x reader

cowboy!Soap by @ghouljams | f!Reader

Personal Training by @spurbleu | f!Reader

(hunka hunka) burnin' love by @/pfhwrittes | f!Reader

paciencia y fe by @/mikichko | gn!Reader

141 x reader

Cherry Bomb by @swordsandholly | f!Reader

Pierced Ears by @buttdumplin | gn!Reader

The 141 Oiling Your Hair by @femalefemur | Reader

No Binder by @/pfhwrittes | transmasc!Reader

After The End by @waves-against-a-cliff | Reader

other pairings

Across the Way by @/swordsandholly | Ghoap x f!Reader

Chao Mi Niño by @/mikichko | Ghoap x Reader

Laird MacTavish by @auspicioustidings | Poly 141

Call of the Jurassic by @stuffireadandenjoy. | Ghoap, but also the 141 vs. dinosaurs!

The Wellyboot Incident Follow-Up by @pricegouge | PriceGaz x Reader

Get Her a Dog (She'll be Happier for It) by @/pricegouge | PriceSoap x f!Reader

Laswell's Little Assistant by @waves-against-a-cliff | Laswell x f!Reader

Aro!Ghost/Price/Reader by @secretsynthetic | Ghost/Price/Reader

Service Dog Johnny by @void-my-warranty | Ghoap x f!Reader

Asexual Reader by @sigh-tofm | 141 HCs

Branding (Kinktober) by @dragonnarrative-writes | Price x Ghost

general

Righteous Fury by @gemmahale

Citations Needed by @/pfhwrittes

The Daemon AU by @/pfhwrittes

Simon and That Mean Cat by @/stuffireadandenjoy

Driving Headcanons by @kaadaaan

Sunday Dinner Headcanons by @/kaadaaan

beautifall, feeling pretty gourd about this list 🍂 banner by @/cafekitsune

[pfhwrittes]

title: (hunka hunka) burnin’ love

pairing: john “soap” mactavish x female reader

word count: 1.6k

tags/triggers: smut, oral sex (johnny receiving), semi-public sex, johnny’s POV, blink and you’ll miss it reference to past kyle “gaz” garrick x reader, humour, parental interference, pet names (“bonnie”, “hen”).

a/n: i’ve finally finished a fic. everyone send tats (@stuffireadandenjoy) some love for inspiring this one.

also regarding the parental interference tag, johnny’s dad walks in after the reader and johnny have finished. if that makes you cringe, feel free to skip from ��christ, the fabric of his boxers chafes something fierce.” and pick back up at “back at the table johnny fidgets uncomfortably…”

as always my work is barely edited (i loathe re-reading my own words) so typos and grammatical goofs are likely. with that said, enjoy!

johnny’s breath hitches as you lick a (gratifyingly) long wet stripe up the underside of his cock. your tongue curling sweetly around the head as your fingers dig into the meat of his thighs, not taking your eyes off him for a second. 

christ, he’s a lucky man. a very lucky man. 

you’re always game for his particular brand of hijinks. when he’d dragged you unsubtly to the bathroom of the nice restaurant after watching you chew on the straw of your drink (for aeons!) with those plump lips of yours, he was sure you’d slap his hands away. chide him. remind him he was no better than a panting mutt. tell him to keep his hands to himself until after dinner at least. 

but you didn’t. 

and now here he was. and here you were. on your knees as his belt buckle clinks noisily in the locked toilet cubicle while the rest of the table (sorry maw) waited for the second course. 

“christ, bonnie.” johnny hisses through his teeth desperately as you lap leisurely at the droplet of precum beading at the slit. (and no, cupcakKe’s deepthroat does not start playing in the back of his mind. shut up.) 

you blink up at johnny in a catlike fashion. he preemptively bites down on his knuckles so he can’t make a stupid joke about the cat gettin’ the cream, eh hen? and be left, quite literally, cock in hand as you return to the table in a huff. (it’s one of the things he loves about you. you’re mercurial as sin and god knows he loves the chase.)

his heart stutters and it takes all his will power not to place his hand on the back of your head and thrust deep into the wet heat of your mouth as you slowly suck on the head of his cock. fuck, it’s not the first time you’ve dropped to your knees and sucked the soul out of him but it leaves him breathless each and every time. 

(has he mentioned he’s a very lucky man?)

“mphfuuuuckin’ hell!” he manages to swear around his fingers before remembering to pull them out of his mouth.

he doesn’t know what it is but this time something feels different. your clever tongue traces nonsensical patterns as you bob your head. it’s wet and messy, the soft skin under your lips prickling, almost as if his dick is more sensitive than usual. 

wait. 

prickling? 

“wait, bonnie - ohjesuswept - i think -” johnny swallows the low moan trying to crawl out of his chest as your head bobs lower, taking more of his cock in your mouth as you hollow your cheeks and suck. it’s a dirty trick, one that’s made him pull the trigger prematurely before. god he loves you for it, you filthy wee minx. 

(if he didn’t have a little box in his jacket pocket waiting for him back at the table he swears hand tae god that he’d propose right here right now in this tiny cubicle with the toilet paper dispenser as his witness.)

you pull off with a slick pop and wipe at your messy mouth, smearing the gloss on your lips as you do. 

“what?” you arch a brow as you fist his cock with the same hand. you know him well enough that unless he calls his safeword (children’s feet, if you’re curious) he always wants you to continue somehow. he loves riding that edge of ohgodyes and ohgodtoomuchtoomuch. 

johnny hisses as you do that clever little twist of the wrist and his dick throbs. no, not throbs, burns. (oh great, now he sounds like one of those wankers from that fucking show you like, the one with the period dresses and shagging. not that he watched it and heckled lord whatshisface’s technique as you battered him with a throw cushion.)

“seriously johnny, what?” you squeeze the base of his cock a little meanly (in his opinion) and pout. “do you want me to stop or -” 

“no, no, no. keep goin’ bonnie, please.” johnny cuts you off to beg. fuck it, he’s had worse in the field (and god knows he’s twisted enough that the whole burnin’ boaby situation is actually getting his motor running more).

you squint up at him suspiciously before shuffling on your knees slightly, getting as comfortable as you possibly can on the uneven tiled surface.

“fine, but be quick. i’m positive your mum knows what we’re up to in here.” 

johnny is pretty sure he looks like a stupid bobble head with how fervently he’s nodding but he couldn’t give a single solitary shit as you lean forward and swallow him down. (he’s not ashamed that he has to squeeze his eyes closed to stop himself from going off like a rocket. you’d given him permission to be quick but he’s still got to have a measure of pride.)

the filthy wet sounds of you gagging on his cock makes johnny’s toes curl in his shoes and he swears his hands move on their own to cup the back of your head to hold you in place. (just for a moment, he’s no’ a monster. it just feels so good.)

he feels you swallow and hears you whine through your nose. chancing a glance down, johnny groans loudly as he meets your teary eyes before he guides you off his cock so that you can suck in a grateful breath of air or two. (okay so maybe the moment was slightly longer than a moment but he challenges any man to resist.) 

you cough and splutter before you squirm in his grip. johnny loosens his hold on your head and moves one of his hands to pump his cock furiously, the ruddy tip resting on your plump (seriously, he swears it’s plumper than usual) bottom lip. 

fuck, his dick is so sensitive, burning hot under his hand – even with the rapidly cooling saliva, precum, and gloss still slicking the length of it. johnny fists his cock and shudders out a long moan as you open your mouth and stretch your tongue out to lick at him. (another dirty trick, and not one he’s shown you. he’d send flowers to the person or persons who’d taught you to flick your tongue along his frenulum if it wouldn’t be weird. ah well, maybe he’ll buy gaz a pint the next time he sees him.)

johnny knows he’s babbling utter bollocks through gritted teeth and gasping like a fish out of water as sweat beads along his hairline. he’s so fucking close to coming his brains out in this little cubicle as he gazes down at you.

you’re a fucking vision on your knees. it’s not the way you fidget slightly, pressing your thighs together hoping for friction, or even the way your mouth looks swollen and spit-and-precum-slicked that causes johnny to come with a harsh grunt onto your waiting tongue. (he’ll never admit it out loud but it’s your eyes. it’s the mischievous twinkle in your dilated pupils that tells him that you’re loving this as much as he is. his partner in crime.)

“fuckin’ hell hen, yer gonny kill me.” johnny pants as his knees wobble like a newborn foal, phosphenes blurring the self-satisfied smirk on your shiny lips when he’s finally able to focus on you. 

you lick your lips and johnny grunts as his cock gives a feeble twitch even as it softens in his grasp. hells bloody bells, his dick is still throbbing and he muffles a whimper when you lean forward to blow cool air on it. 

“jesus christ!” 

“sensitive?” you ask as you get to your feet, moving to tuck johnny back into his trousers. 

christ, the fabric of his boxers chafes something fierce. johnny’s so distracted by adjusting the front of his underwear that he almost misses the loud bangs on the cubicle door. 

“john! fer god’s sake get back oot here! yer maw’s got intae the red wine!”

johnny shoots you a panicked look and reaches over to clap his sticky palm over your mouth seconds before you burst into inappropriate laughter. your eyes light up and johnny schools his face into the one his maw used to give him when he’d tromp through the house in his mucky boots (and god isn’t that a horrible thought? he always thought when he’d get older he’d become like his auld da), a slow stern shake as you waggle your eyebrows. 

“aye, aye ‘m comin’, keep yer hair oan!” johnny calls through the door. 

“now, john!” 

you wriggle your tongue in between johnny’s fingers (gross!) and flip the lock on the cubicle door, pushing it open to saunter past his auld da with a cheerful “he’ll just be a minute!” leaving johnny to face his da with his belt still hanging loose around his hips. 

“yer flying a wee bit low there son.” johnny’s da clears his throat uncomfortably and unsubtly waves his hand towards johnny’s groin. 

“aye, cheers.” johnny mutters as his ears turn red, fumbling to zip up his flies and buckle his belt.

–

back at the table johnny fidgets uncomfortably, discreetly adjusting himself under the cloth napkin on his lap. seriously, what the fuck is going on with his dick? it feels exactly like the time he pinched his sister’s original source shower gel. or like how his lips felt after he stolen your lip gl–

johnny turns his head and squints at your lips. they’re shiny again with a fresh application of gloss. oh you wee terror. so that was the reason you didn’t argue about joining him in the toilets this time. 

johnny leans over to nuzzle at your cheek, taking a moment to murmur in your ear. 

“i ken about the gloss.” 

you pull back, those gorgeous lips of yours twitching to stop from grinning at his predicament before leaning back so that you can murmur your reply, your breath tickling the shell of his ear.

“good. oh and johnny?” 

“mm?” 

“i found the ring.” 

johnny grins so wide that his cheeks hurt. 

aye, he’s a very lucky man.

[zerolostwalks]

using the most embarrassing pet names they can think of for Luke/Reggie plz and thank you

“Table for two, please.” Luke told the hostess–her long dark hair on the more frazzled side of things–as he wrapped an arm around Reggie’s shoulders which slowly dropped to his waist. 

A few months ago the move would have completely taken Reggie by surprise. By this point they’d been playing these games long enough Reggie had long since learned this was Luke’s signal. 

Reggie was fairly certain they didn't need to actually act like a couple in order to get the Sweetheart’s deal. He also had yet to vocalize these doubts to Luke since he’d first proposed the idea for dinner tonight, the both of them always on the lookout for a good deal. Now didn’t seem like a good time, plus it was always fun to play these sorts of games with Luke. Last time they did they managed to win free drinks for the night. 

“Sorry but it’s going to be a bit of a wait.” The hostess said through an incredibly tight smile. 

“That’s all right.” Reggie smiled as he let his head fall to Luke’s shoulder, smiling even brighter when he saw the hostess just the slightest. “We’ve got all the time in the world, don’t we sweetheart?”

“Sure do, butter biscuit.” Luke’s grip around Reggie’s waste tightened. Normally by now Luke would have stepped to the side, but since they were currently the only ones waiting he took the opportunity to lean closer to whisper conspiratorially to the hostess. “It’s our anniversary.”

It suddenly clicked why Luke wanted them to play this game. He was trying to score a potential freebee. Reggie knew his face was definitely not matching whatever lovey dovey backstory spiel Luke was spinning up about how they met and decided to bury it in Luke’s shoulder. Really only keying back into the conversation after the hostess made some remark about how cute they were together.

“Oh he’s just my hunka hunka burnin’ love” Luke said, plastering himself even more to Reggie’s side, more than he usually would be anyway. Honestly, Reggie was a little too distracted trying to determine if he should be worried that he was more unsettled by the random Elvis reference than by how much Luke was clinging to him, he once again almost missed Luke was still talking.  “Ain’t that right honeydew?”

“Oh, sure thing, Beaker.” Reggie said with a broad smile completely missing the hostesses stifled snickering, continuing to be distracted by Luke. More specifically Luke’s perplexed scowl. “Scooter? Zoot? Sweetums?”

The hostess cleared her throat with a smile, trying to get his and Luke’s attention back. Either that or she was hiding a laugh. “It looks like a table just became available if you two would like to follow me.”

Reggie did his best to follow without tripping over his, or Luke’s, feet. A task made even trickier since Luke decided to stay glued to Reggie’s side as they followed the hostess to their table. Thankfully, it was significantly easier to eat since the table set up meant Luke had to stick to his own portion of the table. 

The clinginess didn’t reduce any Like Reggie thought it would after Luke succeeded in getting his free dessert. And Reggie wasn’t quite sure if this was normal Luke clinginess or Luke keeping the game going. A soon forgotten conundrum as he once again got caught up by Luke’s momentum, deciding to just enjoy the evening for whatever it was.

[ab4eva]

*ahem* we interrupt our regularly scheduled programming for some 68 Comeback Elvis:

Hope you're having a good day darling 💖

Goodness gracious Ash…I’m… jaw drop. I needed this little pick me up, you always seem to know when I could use some EP or AB. This sweaty, sexy, gorgeous, magnetic, naughty, hunka hunka burnin love 😍🌶️ Good Lord. Thank you, sweet girl ♥️

[robertdeanstockwellgal]

Oh, Al. You make the orneriest faces. 😁🥰

Dean/Al's a hunka hunka burnin' love!

[victoria-styles]

How tall is your man?

He is a 6 foot 7 inches tall hunka hunka burnin’ love.

[simsstuph]

The night continued. Alix didn't last long, two alabama slammers and Noah had to take her home she got so sick.

Alix: My parents are gonna kill mmme.

Delilah: Call me tomorrow222. I love you.

Delilah walked Alix and Noah to the front yard and saw Van, drunk as could be trying to leave. Greta told him off and left. Delilah went inside to get Fig to help with Van, but bumped into someone else.

Delilah slurring a bit: Wwwell lookk who it isss.

Owen turned around and smirked: Someone's had too much.

Delilah: C-can you helppp me get myy brotherr back heree?

Owen's expression turned concerned: Where the hell is he?

Delilah: Oh, ya know.. Out front trying to leavvve somewhere.

Owen: What the hell? You Newtons can't hold your liquor for shit.

Delilah grabbed his hand: He'sss right out hereeee.

Owen grabbed her and put her arm around his shoulders to steady her, he set her down on the steps: Don't move, I'll be right back for you.

Owen ran out front and found Van half way down the street: Bro.

Van singing: I'm just a hunka hunka burninnn loveeeeeee, just a hunka hunka--

Owen grunting: More like a hunka burnin' fat ass bro, you're heavy as fuck.

Van: To infinity and beyonddddd!

Owen: Dude, my ear.

Van: Wanna watch the titanic?

Owen laughed: Let's just get you in the backyard.

[buffalojournal]

Two Poems by Jessie Lynn McMains

Secret

is I stabbed summer      watched it twitch and spurt, dark, arterial        crunched the husks of late cicadas esoteric as the leaves                 we use to cross our sacred wounds            mystic is her lemonlips         the fuzz soft above        them charcoal smudge of shadow                   over her clavicle I wanna wake up in       November with a sprig       of verbena planted        in the pocket of my leather jacket       her fingers fuzzing on the stubble of my                  brooding clouds crisp wind rustle in        the oaktrees how sweet how soft she                 sing to me

At the Denny’s in Michigan City, Indiana, at 2 a.m. in Mid-October

everyone’s loonier than a junebug in a Canadian goose- feathered bed. One middle-aged fella in a Van Halen t-shirt with the sleeves torn off stuffs his mouth fulla straws and whistles “Dusty Crabapple Pie.” The old-timers in the back booth play poker for packets of non-dairy creamer and Sweet n’ Low, sling stories of glory days hunting Mud Mermaids and Wild Men. There’s a drunk lady who’s 30 or 45 or maybe 67, she doesn’t need anybody but she wants somebody to love. She stumbles from table to table, asks every man and half the women if they want to go neck in the bathroom. Her hair is the color of motor oil puddled on the floor of Moore’s Auto Repair, and if she’s especially fond of ya she’ll pull her shorts down and give you a flash of her star-freckled ass— but she’ll smack ya if you try to trace the constellations.

At the Denny’s in Michigan City, Indiana, at 2 a.m. in mid-October they have a secret menu. Sure, you can get the Grand Slam Slugger or the Moons Over My Hammy, but you should ask about the house specialities. Like Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammo, where they cut the flapjacks into crosses and arrange the bacon in the shape of a gun, and the eggs are boiled hard as bullets. Or Uncle Sam’s Thanksgiving—a deep-fried turkey leg stuck through with lit sparklers. Sometimes, if the fishing was good that day, they have fillet of Mud Mermaid. Once in a blue moon you can get The Elvis Platter.

At the Denny’s in Michigan City, Indiana, at 2 a.m. in mid-October they only play one song, which is a mashup of songs by the most famous Hoosier musicians. It’s called “Hurts So Good Runnin’ With the Devil Billie Jean in Paradise City.” It would be obnoxious if you could hear it over the din of spoons and trash talk, if you weren’t so tired you’d pass out facedown in your flapjacks if you didn’t have to get back on the road to Michigan.

At the Denny’s in Michigan City, Indiana, at 2 a.m. in mid-October the night manager—who’s also the host—is the spitting ghost- twin of latter-day Elvis. Fat and bedazzled with a queasy quaalude smile. When you arrive, he greets you with a ‘hunka-hunka-burnin’ love,’ and when you leave he says: “It’s so good to see ya, darlin’. I haven’t seen ya ‘round here in years.” When you tell him you’ve never been to that Denny’s, or to Michigan City, before in your life, he says: “Of course ya have. I knew ya when you were knee-high to a soybean. We’d go down to the Town of Pines and boogie with the Wild Men. We’d go up to the state park and have hotdog-eating contests on the sand dunes. Don’t ya remember?”

At the Denny’s in Michigan City, Indiana, at 2 a.m. in mid-October you say no, you don’t remember, that wasn’t you, he must have mistaken you for someone else. “Not possible,” Elvis says. “Not possible.” And at the Denny’s in Michigan City, Indiana, at 2 a.m. in mid-October when you’re goose-tired and fulla greased hash and headed for Kalamazoo you never know. Darlin’, you just never know.

🦬 Jessie Lynn McMains

[gennianydots]

I only caught like 43% of this scene because I was so distracted by this hunka hunka burnin’ love

Can someone catch me up real fast? Did Gun ever get his coffee??

[mitchipedia]

"You've got me? Who's got you!" Rewatching the 1978 "Superman" movie starring Christopher Reeve

The 1978 “Superman,” starring Christopher Reeve, launched the superhero film genre as it exists today. We rewatched it recently, enjoyed it, and I recommend it.

However, the movie takes a painfully long time to get going.  

”Superman” starts with pages turning on the 1938 Action Comics issue that launched the Superman character, narrated by a child’s voice-over. We did not remember this from seeing the movie previously. We wondered whether we had accidentally rented the wrong version of “Superman.” We had not. Onward. 

Then we go to Krypton, where the movie creeps forward. We see Marlon Brando as Superman’s father, Jor-El, wearing white stunt hair and a turtleneck with the Superman logo in it.

I wish the phrase “phoning it in” was not a cliche so I could use to to describe Brando’s performance. He drones on and on, making one speech after another. 

He’s concluding the prosecutor’s statement in the trial of three insurrectionists (ripped from the 2020s headlines!), who end up being sentenced to the Phantom Zone. I’m sure we won’t see these insurrectionists again—they won’t be any trouble and will not turn up in “Superman II.”

General Zod, played by Terence Stamp, is the leader of the trio, and his scenery-chewing is the only good part of this scene.

I saw “Superman” with friends in the theater during its first run in 1978, and I was very excited to tell them after the movie all about the Phantom Zone. I even guessed that the three villains would feature in the movie sequel. I was very proud of myself for this. Possibly related: It took me a long time to lose my virginity.  

Jor-El warns the leadership council of Krypton that the whole planet is about to explode within a month. The leaders say this is fake news because they did their own research on YouTube. The council nopes out on evacuating the planet and tells Jor-El he can’t tell anybody about his beliefs or else he’ll be an insurrectionist (that word again). A sensible person would have told the council to fuck right off because the council was not going to have any clout after the ENTIRE FUCKING PLANET EXPLODES. But Jor-El just goes along with it.

Brando goes back home, where he and his wife (if her name is spoken, I didn’t hear it) put on matching glowy silver lamé jumpsuits. They put their baby in a spaceship. Before sending the baby off to Earth, Marlon Brando makes a very long speech, while his wife looks at him with an expression like she wants him to shut up because she needs to pee. 

Then we’re off to Earth, to whip through young Clark Kent’s childhood. The costumes and cars and brilliant. The scenery from the Kent farm is beautiful, but there is way too much of it. Can we get this movie moving already?

Clark challenges his father to run from the end of their driveway to the barn. Pa Kent has a heart attack and dies. Clark never mentions his own role in Pa’s death. That seems odd.

Next stop: the North Pole, where young Clark spends 12 years being lectured by the holographic Marlon Brando, and we, in the audience watching the movie, get to experience every painful second of those 12 years. 

All this time, Clark is played by an actor who is not Christopher Reeve and doesn’t even look much like Christopher Reeve. This guy:

But after 12 years at the North Pole, demonstrating powers of super-boredom-resistance, Clark becomes Christopher Reeve and emerges in his spiffy super-suit, which makes all the girls swoon. He is a hunka hunka burnin love. The suit is very flattering, but he really should be wearing something modest below the waist and above the knee to better cover his prominent super-johnson. Maybe bermuda shorts with a festive luau pattern? 

And we’re off to Metropolis and the movie takes off and keeps going. Finally! Lois Lane is fast-talking and smart; Christopher Reeve transforms from a nebbishy Clark into a charismatic Supe through the power of acting. Gene Hackman, Ned Beatty, and Valerie Perrine are the villains, and they chew the scenery delightfully. The sets are gorgeous, particularly Lex Luthor’s lair in the underground lobby of Grand Central Station. Why is Grand Central Station abandoned and apparently nearly forgotten in this movie? Does it even matter? No, it does not. 

Lois’s costumes are the height of 70s couture. The first thing we see her in is a nice skirt and blouse. And the skirt has pockets. And they look like BIG pockets. In some ways, technology has gone backward since 1978.

The Daily Planet newspaper takes up an entire skyscraper and has a helicopter to shuttle reporters around. I started work at a daily newspaper not long after “Superman” came out—we didn’t even have a budget to buy coffee for the staff. Employees had to pay for their own.  

Lois arranges an interview with Superman, which turns into a date. He flies her around the skies above Metropolis. She recites a love poem in her mind. The poem is painfully bad. It is like watching someone you like embarrass themselves in a talent competition.  

We see a very neatly dressed and well-groomed mugger. Nice blazer, turtleneck sweater. He needs a closer shave, but we’re otherwise good.

It’s part of a whole sequence of Superman’s day’s work, as he stops a cat burglar heist, rescues Air Force One after it loses an engine, and rescues a little girl’s cat from a tree. 

The ending of the movie, where Lois Lane dies (spoiler for a 45-year-old super-popular movie—don’t DM me!) is surprisingly dark. She’s smothered after being buried in an earthquake and we see all of it happening. But Superman quickly brings her back from the dead with his superpowers. 

Superman’s flying SFX are every bit as good and dazzling now as they were in 1978. Oh, some of the matte shots with the New York City skyline in the background are a little fake, but Superman’s movements are brilliant. A one-second bit where Superman changes from his Clark street clothes into his superhero costume while in flight is just wonderful—nothing much today but brilliant in the pre-CGI era that this movie was made in. Some of the other special effects, like Hoover Dam disintegrating and a downstream town flooding, are a little obviously done with miniatures but they still look fine.  

(Why do the sfx look fake now but not in 1978? I have a theory. In 1978, we saw these sfx on the big screen, where they looked great. They might still look great today on a big screen. Soon after, we saw the movie on smaller TVs, with lower quality screens than today, and the sfx still looked great. But today’s high-quality TVs make the sfx look fake—the screens aren’t big enough to compensate for the flaws revealed by the high definition.)

The movie can’t decide if it’s a camp superhero parody, or a serious superhero movie. It would have been better if it toned down the broad comedy and made Lex Luthor more scary.

Reeve’s acting carries the movie. There’s a scene that’s famous among fans where Lois Lane and Clark Kent are in the living room of her apartment. She leaves the room, and he decides to tell her he’s Superman. Until that moment, he’s a shlub, round-shouldered and with a goofy expression on his face. He stands up straight, squares his shoulders and jaw and takes off his glasses—and now he’s Superman. He starts to tell her. His voice as Clark is querulous and shaky, but Superman has a firm baritone. And he changes his mind, slumps his shoulders, puts on his glasses and now he’s Clark the shlemiel again. It all goes by in a few seconds, but it’s striking. 

Even the special effects are carried by Reeve’s acting. “You will believe a man can fly,” was the marketing slogan for the movie when it was released. You believe it in large part because Reeve was hanging from wires, moving like a person flying. Acting. )

I don’t have anything to say about John Williams’ musical score for the movie, except that it’s brilliant. I’m going to carry a Bluetooth speaker with me and play that score every time I enter a room. 

Overall, well worth a watch. Maybe skip the first 48 minutes though. You don’t need to see it. You already know Superman’s original story.  

Superman is my favorite superhero. He is optimistic and hopeful. He knows there is great evil in the world, but he knows that there is also great good, and he serves that good—“truth, justice and the American way." He knows some of what he says is corny and he says it anyway because he believes it. He is nearly all-powerful and invulnerable, but he is in awe of human beings because we are neither of those things, and yet we are capable of great kindness, nobility, and courage.

Sloppy Internet research

Four-year-old Clark Kent is played by an actor named Aaron Smolinski, who went on to a bit role in the 2013 Superman movie “Man of Steel” and also as Lex Luthor in a movie called “Superman: Solar,” which seems to be either an indy or fan-made Superman movie that got terrible reviews.

Larry Hagman has a cameo as an Army Major, making a joke that doesn’t age well. 

John Ratzenberger plays an air traffic controller. He went on to play Cliff from “Cheers,” and do a lot of voice-overs for Pixar movies.  

Kirk Allyn, who played Superman in 1940s Superman movies, has a cameo as Lois Lane’s father. When Clark is a boy in Smallville, little girl Lois sees Clark while passing through on a train, and Allyn appears in that scene. via

Noel Neill, who played Lois Lane in 1940s movies and the 1950s Superman TV series, also has a cameo. She’s Lois Lane’s mother in the same scene. via

“According to Sir Roger Moore’s autobiography, he witnessed Christopher Reeve walking through the canteen at Pinewood Studios in full Superman costume, oblivious to the swooning female admirers he left in his wake. When he did the same thing dressed as Clark Kent, no one paid any attention.” via

The Incomparable Mothership podcast did an episode about their “Superman” rewatch. They hated it. I don’t disagree with their criticisms, but for me, the virtues of the movie made up for its flaws. I enjoyed listening to the episode.

What happened to the actors

Marlon Brando continued working until his death in 2004. “Apocalypse Now” came out soon after “Superman.” His work in later life included two movies I quite enjoyed: “The Freshman” and “Don Juan DeMarco,” both of which are about charismatic rogues (though he only played the rogue in one of those movies). Brando also features in a delightful 2009 novel, “Chronic City,” by Jonathan Lethem, which explores the theme of whether we can believe anything or truly perceive reality. Brando isn’t a character in the novel. The characters can’t agree whether Brando is alive or dead, and the Internet is no help.  

Margot Kidder struggled with mental health in later life. Her 2018 death was ruled a suicide. via

As of April 2023, Valerie Perrine, age 79, was suffering from advanced Parkinson’s and needed a hydraulic lift to get into and out of bed. The Hollywood Reporter did an excellent profile—recommended reading: Ailing ‘Superman’ Star Valerie Perrine Finally Finds Her Hero: “The Guy Should Be Sainted”:

Perrine insists she wants no pity and regrets nothing about her Technicolor life: not one affair (she’s been romantically linked to everyone from Jeff Bridges to Elliott Gould to Dodi Fayed); not one hit of acid (she’s taken LSD more than 400 times, by her estimation); not one career move (well, she probably should have said yes to 1981’s Body Heat and no to 1980’s Can’t Stop the Music, the Village People-starring megaflop she says killed her career, but you can’t win them all).

She sounds fantastic. 

Gene Hackman has been retired for about 20 years. As of March, he was fit and healthy at age 93, spotted doing yardwork, buying and eating fast food, and pumping his own gas. 

Christopher Reeve died in 2004, after being paralyzed in 1995 in a horse-riding accident. 

Terence “General Zod” Stamp was one of the stars of “Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.” He played a drag queen named Bernadette. 

Sarah Douglas, who played Ursa, one of General Zod’s cronies, appeared in a lot of B science fiction movies and TV shows, including one called “Strippers vs. Werewolves.” 

Which Superman II?

We want to watch Superman II, which I remember as being even better than the first Superman, which was itself great. But which version?

Richard Donner directed the original movie and started directing on Superman II, but was fired, and Richard Lester was hired as a replacement. Donner had already done a lot of work, and Lester reshot many scenes and shot more. The Lester version was the original theatrical release, which I saw in theaters. We saw a fan cut of the Donner version in the early 2000s and did not care for it. It was unfinished. Some of the scenes were audition scenes; I remember some other scenes had cheap SFX that looked like they’d been done on 1990s home PCs.

Soon after we saw the fan cut of the Donner version, an official—and presumably more polished—version was released. We haven’t seen that.  

I think when we do a rewatch, we’ll go with the original, theatrical version, directed by Lester. According to Internet discussion—for example, here—the official Donner version, while more polished than the fan cut we watched, is still unpolished and unfinished. And the theatrical version is lighter than the Donner version, while still having some serious moments. Generally, I like my superhero movies light; when they get dramatic and heavy I start having difficulty suspending disbelief.

[undrsk0re]

Hunka hunka burnin love is part of an Elvis song????

Ive never listened to elvis

[crossover-enthusiast]

Hunka hunka burnin love