#in my dream world it gets popular enough that we get pop up parade figures 🙏

[twow]

there’s rumors that seraph of the end is getting another season after 6 years and on one hand that’s great news bc any exposure that ons can get is a good thing as that means more merch, content, etc. and i really hope it gets more popular since the fandom is nonexistent a this point. i would love to see it revived esp since a lot of the content is really obscure and untranslated and hard to find so a boost in popularity could help with that. on the other hand though i do not think the anime is a good adaptation 😭 the manga is brilliant but the anime is just okay. i guess i’d rather have an adaptation that’s just okay than no adaptation? but still. idk how to feel.

[jujubieberbae]

SELF CONSCIOUS

Warnings: None

Request: Can u do more cute imagines on stage with yn

I wasn’t sure how you wanted the imagine to go exactly but I hope this is good enough, Enjoy! 

Heavy breathing and loud screams. It’s a familiar sound now. 

I’ve been to so many of his concerts that coming just seems to be a second nature. It’s different then it was a few years ago though. Back then, I only saw him once every few years when he would put on a show, and I would usually only be seeing him from a far distance. He didn’t even know I existed. 

But now, my whole world has flipped upside down and as I stood from the wings, watching Justin and his dancers parade around on stage, I couldnt help but look at all the other screaming fans, reaching out for something so small, as simple as a graze of his shoe. 

I used to be like that, before I met him for real.

I remember it so vividly. The day it was absolutely pouring rain and I still had a good 2 miles to walk. I remember sneezing from the cold raindrops that trickled down my skin, leaving me to deal with an ongoing flu the next day. But I also remember seeing the black, tinted SUV pulling up beside me. 

At that moment my heart nearly stopped, and I was readying myself to run if needed. I really thought I was about to be kidnapped when the door to the SUV swung open, but gee was I glad stayed when I did. 

My idol stood in front of me, a concerned look on his face as he glanced at me, then up at the dark grey clouds above. Star struck, I listened to his words, so simple yet so demanding. “Need a ride? Get in! Where are you headed?” 

And from there it was a long spiral of being strangers, to acquaintances, friends, to love interests. Then finally - becoming official 3 months ago - as boyfriend and girlfriend.

“Get used to me holding you. Get used to me woeing you. Oh! get used to it...” The last line was sung. Justin’s jumping stopped as he ended in position, the crowd's screams only just beginning to pick up.

“Thankyou all so much for coming tonight.” He announced breathlessly into the mic. “Don’t go anywhere guys, we’ll be back in 10!” 

And then he and the dancers ran off stage for a quick break. Justin immediately grabbed ahold of me, smiling like a fool under his head mic. “How am I doing?” 

After handing him his water bottle and wiping down his forehead with a towel as he gulped it down, I smiled and said, “Absolutely amazing baby. You always do great.” while rubbing his sweaty but masculine arms. It’s crazy to think that I have one of the worlds biggest popstars, as well as my dream guy, wrapped right around my finger. Just as well as I am with him.

“Let’s take a snap before you have to go back out.” I exclaimed, removing my phone from the pocket of my jeans.

“”Okay. But it’s only going to your family right?” And here we go again. Justin has been trying to keep our relationship a secret ever since we got together. At first it seemed to just be a privacy thing, so we could enjoy a little time to ourselves before going public to the world, but its been 3 months, and It honestly feels a little as if Justin is embarrassed to be seen in a relationship with me.

I mean, I’m definently not the most attractive girl, and I don’t have a model body either. I’m short, with a little belly. I can barely do my makeup for shit and not to mention, I’m not famous. In the end, I’m just a fan. 

“Oh- uh. Y-yeah. Of course.” I stutted in a failed attempt to hide my disappointment.

Justin’s face fell, eyes wondering over me in a concern. “You okay baby girl?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just forget it. Don’t worry about the snap. You gotta go out there soon and Scooter wants to talk to you.” 

“But-”

“Go. Scooter’s waiting.” I pushed. I honestly just wanted to be left alone for a little bit, and pushing him away for a while was really the only way I was going to get that.

Justin hesitated and compelled but with some tugging and pushing, I got him over to Scooters side and walked away.

Justin’s POV

“Your doing great Kiddo.” Scooter began, looking down at the show plan in his hand, he hadn’t even realised that Y/N had practically dragged me over here, to busy caught up making sure everything was going according to plan.

“Yeah thanks Scoot.” I rushed. “Hey, do you know what’s up with Y/N?”

“Y/N? No. She was fine earlier.” Scooter answered, glancing up towards me. “Why?” 

“She just seemed like she was in a bit of a shit mood. Or something was making her uncomfortable.”

“Well did something happen?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No...I mean...I don’t think so?” I questioned. “I don’t know.” I sighed. “We were talking about the show, and then all of a sudden she asked if we could take a snap before I went back out. Then after that she just suddenly said she didn’t want to do it anymore and that I should talk to you before I go back out.” I explained.

“Okay...” Scooter trailed off “Did you say anything before that?”

“No, just that we could take a pic, just as long as she only sends it to her friends and family. No one else.”

That’s when Scooters face lit up in recognition, a sigh leaving his lips. 

“Justin, I honestly don’t know how so many girls love you. You are so oblivious.” Scooter joked.

“What?” I questioned. 

“Justin, did it ever occur to you that maybe Y/N’s feeling a little insecure?”

 “Insecure? About what. She’s perfect, there’s nothing to be insecure about.”

“Maybe not to you but to her...” Scooter explained. “Justin, she’s a wemon - a girl. Shes gonna need constant confident boosters and reminders that she is beautiful because otherwise after a while, the confidence she has will just wither away. And you holding back on telling everyone about your relationship is probably starting to affect her. She probably thinks you don’t want to be seen with her.”

“But that’s not true at all.” 

“But she dosen’t know that.” Scooter stated. 

“Well then...what do I do?” I ask hysterically. Scooter only shrugs and pats me on the shoulder. “That’s for you to figure out Kiddo. Your on in a minute.”

And with that, he walked over to pep up the dancers.

1 minute seconds, that gives me 60 seconds to think of something. C’mon Jay THINK!

Then, a brilliant idea pops in my head. And not only for Y/N’s sake, but i think for the crowds entertainment as well. Guess there’s gonna be one less lonely girl tonight.

“SCOOTER!”

Y/N POV

I sighed, looking out at the stage. “JUS-TIN...JUS-TIN...JUS-TIN!” the crowd chanted in anticipation. He was soon to go on, and the only thing I was feeling was self-conscious. I didn’t mean to push Justin away like that but I just can’t be around him when I get like that. I don’t like him seeing me sad, it makes him sad, and he needs to be in a good mood for the remaining part of this night.

“Y/N!” 

The name was smooth but rushed as he voiced it from a small distance. Quickly, I straightened up and planted a fake smile on my face, awaiting Justin’s arrival.

“Hey baby, aren’t you supposed to be getting ready?”

“I need to show you something.” He ignored my question.

“Now?” I ask in confusion. Justin only nods and grabs a hold of my hand, mumbling “C’mon.” 

Scooters voice suddenly began echoing throughout the backstage arena, the dancers all running forward towards the wings of the stage. “Alright, where on in 3! 2! 1!”

And then the music began. Light strumming of a guitar. Wait? This isn’t right. the next song should of been trust. This is one less lonely girl...

“Justin, what’s going on?”

But to no avail. All he did was send a wink my way, then began to sing through his head mic, slowly making his was on stage with a firm grip on my hand.

“There’s gonna be one less lonely girl, One less lonely girl, There's gonna be one less lonely girl,One less lonely girl! How many I told you's and start overs...”

While He progressed on stage, his grip around my hand tightened as I struggled to pull away. “What are you doing?” I whispered.

I watched as the dancers ran around on stage, planting a stool in the middle.

Justin lead me further and further until I was in sight of every screaming fan. The cheers made my head dizzy and the attention made my body weak but with Justin here, everything seemed to refocus and seem alright. 

Justin smiled and placed me on the stool in the center of the stage, continuing to sing the current verse of one less lonely girl, what in the world was the boy doing?

“Saw so many pretty faces before I saw you. Now all I see is you! No, no, Don't need these other pretty faces like I need you, And when you're mine in the world - There’s gonna be one less lonely girl!”

He moved his body from singing towards the crowd, to directing the song towards me. Running his hand down my body and face in a sentimental way, love shining through his eyes.

He continued the lyrics to his old but popular song, half way through helping me off the stool to where he cradled me in his arms and began slow dancing with me, his arms locked around me, pushing my head into his chest.

Then the song began to come to an end, and he stopped moving. Looking me directly in the eyes with his arms stretched slightly, cupping my cheeks. Honey eyes radiating with nothing but love. 

“If you let me inside your world! There's gonna be one less lonely girl....” Then in a raspy and low voice, he mumbled, “You shawty” Before connecting his lips to mine. 

And although we were accompanied by thousands of people screaming in shock, it was as if no one else was in the room but us. 

The kiss lasted a few seconds at least, before he finally pulled away, pulling me into his side and waving off towards the crowd with a smile.

“GIVE IT UP FOR MY GIRLFRIEND EVERYBODY!”

[fieldsofplay]

Top Albums of 2017

20. Protomartyr – Relatives in Descent  

I put this album 20 for several reasons. One, it’s a great album. Two, they release these records every year and their inclusion is thus a little rote at this point, so it might as well just kick off the list as the official start to another year. Three, we can get politics out of the way at the outset. 2017. Woof. And we thought 2016 was bad. If any band is going to soundtrack the hellscape that is Amerikkka in 2017, it’s hard to do better than Detroit’s Protomartyr. No one is better at channeling our collective disillusionment with the political climate into raw power.

19. Lorde – Melodrama

I don’t know if I’m surprised by my embrace of this record or not. I’ll admit part of me found the idea of Lorde not all that interesting, and I never really bothered to listen to her first record. But as high culture and pop continue to draw ever closer to each other it would be foolish to ignore one of the true pop perfectionists while embracing the Beyonces and Kanyes with open arms. This album bangs. The beats are oddly reminiscent of late night Junior Boys vibes, with perfect pop sing-along’s about a night on the town laid infectiously over the top of those hypnotic beats. Whenever I hear “Homemade Dynamite” it takes days to get it out of my head (dy-dy-dy-dynomite).

18. Tyler, the Creator – Flower Boy

While many old acts dusted off their A-games and a few young guns broke on through, no artist this year was more surprising than Tyler. Long written off as a homophobic infantile flash in the pan, the least interesting member of a crew (Wolf Gang) that he single handedly launched, Tyler did a lot of growing up in 2017. Flower Boy is a testament to that growth. The hip-hop equivalent to former fellow crew member Frank Ocean’s Blond, Flower Boy is a kaleidoscopic trip through acid rap tinged with a hint of g-funk. While I never find personal politics compelling when it comes to artistic statements, the fact that the former gay-basher came out himself is important not for who he professes to sleep with, but for the giant emotional leap such an ideational 180 requires. Having come so far as an artist, I cannot wait to see where Tyler goes next.

17. TOPS – Sugar at the Gate

TOPS are perhaps the most precise band on this list. When left to my own devices I tend to gravitate to loose punk and dance music, and I am an avowed enemy of soft rock, but there is just something irresistible about this band. The whole thing never drifts out of a narrowly restrained emotional range, and yet at the same time remains impeccably locked-in, like a krautrock metronome played on a chintzy synthesizer. There’s a song on this record called “Dayglow Bimbo”; that’s all you really need to know.

16. Sza – Ctrl

With the exception of Kendrick I’m not sure who cast a wider cultural net this year, Lorde or Sza? Ctrl is one of those albums that seemed to cross all scene boundaries, if it were still the 1990s it’d be one of those cd’s that was in everyone’s car (like Californication or Sublime). Ctrl is an R&B record that is simultaneously chill and bumping. Sza sings, not to the audience, but as if she’s alone in her apartment, letting her emotions out to the music playing on the radio in the background.  

15. Run the Jewels – RTJ3

Run the Jewels appear to be the victims of their own success. After two universally revered albums of mic passing mc showdowns that also managed to be locked-into their historical moment, album three was enjoyed and largely forgotten as more of the same. Perhaps this is my contrarian nature shining through, but I honestly like RTJ3 more than RTJ2, an album many embraced as the most important album the year it came out. Killer Mike and EL-P remain in top form, and the group is probably more relevant than they’ve ever been. “Call Ticketron” is still my go-to Friday afternoon ducking out of work early jam.

14. Kevin Morby – City Music

Like Protomartyr, Kevin Morby just puts out incredible record after incredible record, literally every year. For my tastes Singing Saw remains his finest work, but City Music has really grown on me over the course of the year. I caught him at the Turf Club and these songs really come alive in person. This album is more restrained than his previous output, but there is a certain beauty in its restraint. This album reminds me of another exquisite work of countrified city music, Bright Eyes’ I’m Wide Awake its Morning. The perfect album for wandering around city streets at night, wondering what it all means.

13. Brockhampton – Saturation II  

I first learned about Brockhampton while waiting for my to-go order sitting at the counter at World Street Kitchen. Some of the local youths were talking about the new Jay-Z record so I decided to wade into the fray, throwing my hat squarely in the ‘I don’t really care about Jay-Z anymore’ ring. One of the youths responded he was too busy listening to this new collective of kids out in LA that were like a westcoast Wu-Tang Clan to bother with Jay-Z. Well, my interest was certainly peaked, and Saturation II did not disappoint. The album bristles with energy as the mic moves from mc to mc, all of whose individual styles vary but still manage to cohere into a definitive whole (is it clear I still haven’t figured out who is who in this crew?). While none of the sounds are new, Saturation II is definitely the sound of the future of hip-hop.

12. Vagabon – Infinite Worlds

This album checks all my boxes. Loud guitars. Thudding drums with liberal use of the cymbals. Quirky narrative lyrics. Sounds like it was recorded live to tape in someone’s backroom. (And its even got a super hazy synth song with a French title.) The chorus of the first track is “You’re a shark that hates everything.” A more aggressive Pavement. A less sad Bedhead. Bonus points for being vaguely from Brooklyn and having a great song called “Minneapolis.”

11. Kamasi Washington – Harmony of Difference

Following the three-disc sprawl of the aptly titled The Epic with a 6 song E.P. (clocking in at a very economical 32 minutes) felt slightly underwhelming at first. We are used to having so much Kamasi, it was something you could get lost in, like a Russian novel. However, while Kamasi certainly excels on the astral plane, this set benefits from concision. It’s one thing to write a novel and another to pen a short story. Kamasi is able to use his saxophone to portray both, sometimes within the same song –the opener “Desire” is both a mellow group cut and clarion solo, all within just 4 and a ½ minutes.

10.  John Maus – Screen Memories

Of all the people on this list, John Maus is definitely the weirdest. In all honesty, his music sounds like it was made by Ross Geller, with one notable exception, it’s really fucking good. Often linked with Ariel Pink, I’ve honestly never really found them comparable. I find Pink’s music vapid and uninteresting, whereas Maus’ synth tracks are full of such life and oddness, all while remaining compellingly melodic. His baritone singing is less a vocal performance and more another layer of tone piled into the composition. Maus does more with stark base, futuristic (i.e. 1980s) synths, and rudimentary drum machines than others do with entire symphonies.

9. The War on Drugs – A Deeper Understanding

I honestly didn’t think 2017 was as good a year for music as some of its recent predecessors, but then I realized this album is number 9 on my list and I had to come to terms with the fact that the peaks of this year are incredibly high. A few years back Lost in the Dream was my number one album of the year, and I like A Deeper Understanding just as much. Over the years Adam Granduciel has come to perfect a sound obviously indebted to a few key influences, and yet a sound somehow entirely his own. Even though he’s a Philadelphia musician, Granduciel has somehow come to encapsulate the ennui of the late capitalist American middle west. These songs are haunting, filled with the charged emptiness of ambient music. But they are also filled with giant guitar solos that would put Jeff Tweedy to shame. I’ve seen this band several times dating all the way back to 2008. When I saw them this fall they were bonafide rock stars. I imagine this is what it must have been like to see Neil Young circa On the Beach. It was a treat.

8. Wolf Parade – Cry Cry Cry

Dear America, what gives? How come no one seems to love this record? Everyone seems to like it, but no one seems to love it. This album is great, and I won’t accept anything less. A band cursed by a universally revered debut and multiple equally successful sideprojects that split the votes of the true believers, Wolf Parade have somehow managed to be critical darlings, popular, and yet somehow are also underrated. Cry Cry Cry is to my ear arguably their second best album, which isn’t to say I was disheartened with Mt. Zoomer or Expo ’86. The new record has something for every member of the Wolf Parade expanded universe, the propulsive Dan fist-pumper (“Artificial Life” “You’re Dreaming”), the moody opener (“Lazarus Online”), and most importantly, the sprawling Spencer epic (“Baby Blue”). Wolf Parade were another bygone band I was fortunate enough to see in 2017. It was arguably the best show of the entire lot, and somehow it wasn’t a sellout. What gives, America?  

7. Strange Ranger – Daymoon

Daymoon is my cause célèbre of 2017. Largely overlooked by the press, this is the most perfect fall album I’ve heard in years. It creaks. It echoes. It’s full of odd flourishes. “Haunting” is an adjective I feel is mostly misapplied but fits this album like a glove. I don’t know if there is actually a theremin on this record (or a singing saw) but it always feels like one is humming softly in the background. If you loved the Microphones’ The Glow, Pt II, early Modest Mouse, or Neutral Milk Hotel give this album a spin when you feel like taking a long walk in a golden post-harvest field, or at least feel like doing so in your mind.

6. Slowdive– Slowdive

This album has no business being anywhere near as amazing as it is. While Souvlaki remains one of my all time favorite records, it was always the exception, not the rule. As I learned from the great Pitchfork documentary, one of the reasons Souvlaki was so distinct, besides the inclusion of personal hero Brian Eno of course, is that the two front people in the band were in the process of breaking up while making that record. 1995’s Pygmalion was essentially an (uninteresting) solo affair, and that was it, Slowdive faded along with the shoegaze movement of which they were a central figure. Suddenly here we are in 2017, the band is inexplicably back, and almost more amazing is just how great a record Slowdive is. It’s like the follow up to Souvlaki was frozen in carbonite (timely reference!) and perfectly preserved so it could be unveiled 25 years in the future. If “Slomo” isn’t 2017’s best song, it’s certainly its most beautiful.

5. Daniele Luppi & Parquet Courts – Milano

To loosely paraphrase Ferris Bueller, I’ve never been to Milan, I’m not Milanese, what do I care about an album devoted to the city put together by an Italian composer I don’t know? Well, collaborating with Parquet Courts and Karen O is certainly an irresistible start. On paper the whole thing sounds like a mess, and yet the finished product is a taught 9 tracks that breezes by in 30 minutes like an alfa romeo. While I might not know anything about Milan, especially Milan in the 80s, somehow this album manages to evoke that place, or at least an idea of that place. A large part of this has to do with the arty coolness Parquet Courts have always exuded. They can emblematize any hip scene, be it Ridgewood in the 2010s or Milan in the 1980s. They just have that wiry sound and jittery energy that calls to mind fashionable afterparties and mountains of cocaine. While I love both of Parquet Courts singers, I never would have imagined that Karen O is actually the perfect frontwoman for this band, sorta like Nico and the Velvet Underground. Here’s hoping the Courts enjoyed working with her more than Lou Reed did with the German chanteuse. Give “Flush” a listen, I guarantee you start strutting.

4. Vince Staples – Big Fish Theory

Every now and then there is an artist whose debut is an instant classic, and then somehow manages to grow even further on each subsequent release. For this current generation, besides Kanye, that person is Vince Staples. Summertime ’06 was a double disc perfect rendition of classic LA hip-hop that was also a sneaky great album to dance to. Big Fish Theory is possibly the most formally experimental hip-hop album I’ve ever heard. If you cut out the vocals, it’d be an avante guarde electronic dance album. Throw Vince’s perfect flow over the top, and you have a Frankenstein monster of hip-hop and dance music that somehow manages to be a seamless union of the two. I’m still mad at my friend Evelyn for skipping this at Shrizz’ wedding this past summer. The nerve of some people.

3. White Reaper – The World’s Best American Band

I sincerely hope you like Cheap Trick. And not ironically. Like, you actually really like Cheap Trick. If so, I’ll be goddamned if this isn’t a perfect album of fist-pumping arena rock made by a bunch of basement punks from Louisville. If you don’t like Cheap Trick, well then, you just might not get why this is so great. Every track is a perfect nugget of 70s style power pop with just enough of a hint of punk to make it somehow sound fresh. In a year when I saw most of my favorite bands make triumphant returns from the grave, seeing these guys blow the roof off the tiny 7th Street Entry was probably the most fun I’ve had straight up rocking out in some time. I’ve never owned a jean jacket in my life, but this album makes me want to buy one.

2. LCD Soundsystem – American Dream

Now I know I’m a hyperbolic person. Every bar is my “favorite,” every track is the “best,” but I’m being legit when I say LCD Soundsytem are the most important band of my lifetime. I bought the self-titled album at a CD store on State Street in Madison shortly before leaving town and moving to New York. Sound of Silver was the soundtrack of my 20s. By the time they broke up my 20s were over and all my friends started moving out of New York. If I came of age in the 70s this band would probably be Bowie or in the 80s it would have been New Order, but as someone who gradually became an adult during the late 00’s, this was the most important band, not only to me, but to most everyone I know. It was of course also crucial that they were the official band of Brooklyn. They were there, as the song goes, and so were we. I honestly never understood the overwrought handwringing that accompanied their return. Are you really going to be mad at having more LCD in your life just because they once told you “that’s it, it’s all over”? American Dream is just as good as anything they’ve ever put out. I’d put “Other Voices,” “Change Yr Mind,” and “Tonite” up there with the best songs they’ve ever penned. Getting to see them tour once again, with both old New York friends and new Minnesotans, in a new town, in a new phase of existence, was the cherry on top of the electro funk sundae.

1. Kendrick Lamar – Damn.

People call him King, and it is a worthy title. Throughout music history the truly all-time greats always had someone who was their dialectical opposite spur them on to greater accomplishments—Beatles and Stones, Michael and Prince, Pumpkins and Pavement (not that either would acknowledge the other)—and now we have two titans of hip-hop pushing each other in radically different directions. Kanye is the pop perfectionist, the Michael Jackson, the Paul McCartney, everything he touches turns to gold. Kendrick is the flawless technical savant, he is literally the best, no one is better. Pick your favorite MC from throughout hip-hop history, they all have their idiosyncrasies and particular strengths (Rahim has technical prowess, Andre has speed, Q-tip has an inimitably odd flow) somehow Kendrick is better at all of all those things than all of those legends. No one’s voice is more varied, no one is a better rhymer, and no one has ever matched rhyme to rhythm this side of Shakespeare (that’s not hyperbole, well maybe Frank O’Hara). Just listen to the subtle variations in “Lust” that somehow tell a person’s entire day, an entire lifestyle, in a sentence or two. It’s not just he’s the best at spitting lines, he also has the ability to intertwine those rhymes into infectious pop structures. Kendrick has released 3 albums that people are aware of (and 4 overall), and those three are all amongst the top albums of the decade. Each one overbrims with classic tunes. “Humble” was the song of the year before Damn. even dropped, and the rest of the album lived up to the hype of that single. I’m still not exactly sure what “If I gotta slap a pussy-ass ni***, I'ma make it look sexy” means, but goddamn if I don’t love it and still perfectly understand it. This record is so good it somehow makes U2 cool. In a year where everything seemed to go wrong, Damn. was there to remind us that there will always be beauty in the chaos, so long as you don’t forget to keep searching it out.

[doomonfilm]

Thoughts : La Dolce Vita (1960)

8 1/2 will forever be my favorite Federico Fellini film, but since the first moment I publicly stated my love for the film, a popular refrain began to emerge... ‘Have you seen La Dolce Vita?’.  Funny enough, I’d seen plenty of his older films, but that particular one had eluded me.  So I sought it out, and needless to say, I was blown away by the epic scale of the narrative, and that’s even in comparison to the mind scramble that 8 1/2 is. 

Marcello (Marcello Mastroianni) is a socialite journalist with his thumb squarely on the pulse of what’s hip in his community.  From the top tier celebrities to those that make the gears turn, everyone seems to love Marcello, even when his tactics to get the best stories cause scenes and scandals.  Over the course of seven days and nights, Marcello, his faithful photographer Paparrazo (Walter Santesso), and everyone that gets caught in their gravity chase story after story and event after event, having little to no regard for each event’s significance in the bigger picture or how their presence impacts them.  Among the many events that take place, Marcello neglects his wife Emma (Yvonne Furneaux) in hopes of winning over the beautiful Maddalena (Anouk Aimee), nearly breaks up the engagement of famous actors Sylvia (Anita Ekberg) and Robert (Lex Barker), attends parties, views supposed acts of God, ruminates on the true nature of love and much, much more.

It’s funny how people who can live in the moment while being oblivious to the damage that choice often leaves is as old as time.  With this self-involvement comes an illusion of importance, where validation is sought after in moments that ultimately mean nothing in the bigger picture.  You would think that this would make it easy for people to treat one another as equals, but La Dolce Vita also manages to examine how the haves often take advantage of the have-nots across the spectrum of experience.  For example, Marcello and Emma clearly have a relationship that is damaged beyond repair, but her need for him is a way to absolve him of the guilt that comes with shallowness, and therefore, he refuses to let her go.  In a shocking (but unexpected) series of events, God and spirituality are thrown into the mix, and their importance in the midst of a self-obsessed society is questioned.  Fellini once again manages to present us with socialites lost in the imitation of life.

This presentation comes off as a ballad of the self-involved, with deeply dark humor found in the shallowness of the connections among the characters.  In the world that Fellini has created for La Dolce Vita, the celebrities and people of stature wear their arrogance like an armor as they pick and choose their very public battles.  The focus on this sensationalist style of celebrity and tabloid journalism plays as a prophecy to the TMZ approach we find today, somehow managing to be as equally prophetic as a film like Network without even seemingly trying to be.  As briefly mentioned before, many of these celebrities make a conscious choice to live very intimate and privately moments purposely within the public gaze.  As a result, many of the ‘star’ characters come off as socially schizophrenic, both fawning for and attempting to hide from the gaze of admires and the paparazzi.

La Dolce Vita wouldn’t be a Federico Fellini affair without a never-ending parade of beautiful people and strong personalities, and the movie has that by the boatload.  Even Rome steps up as an unbilled star character in its own right, with its balance of beauty, poverty and all that lies in-between.  The aforementioned cast is not only grand in scope, but extremely multicultural and hailing from all over the world.  Fellini seemed fascinated by ‘the process’ of creation, with some of his films seeming to examine the machinations and existential dread attached to film and celebrity, with La Dolce Vita being a lighthearted (but biting) condemnation of both.  The cinematography is stunning, as the camera seems to move throughout the streets and social settings with equal parts joy and curiosity.  Nino Rota is a bit more reserved on the score front this time, but does provide some wonderful moments with diagetic sound and tunes made in the style of popular music at the time.  A lot of the humor is found in the interplay of Italian, French and English being spoken, similar to The Science of Sleep (with Spanish replacing Italian in that context). 

Marcello Mastroianni turns his swag all the way up, maxing out his charm and suave sensibilities to the point the frame can barely contain it.  In contrast, Yvonne Furneaux plays the total opposite, a tragic figure hopelessly caught in the trap of a search for admiration she will never receive.  Anita Ekberg injects a jolt of energy into the film, with her childlike fancy immediately taking center stage during her time on screen.  Anouk Aimee, one of my favorites of the Fellini troupe, turns in a performance that is somehow both calculatingly cold and infinitely alluring.  Walter Santesso somehow happens to always pop up with his camera, commenting in a manner that can sometimes reflect audience thoughts.  Alain Cuny balances a sense of existential dread against a passionate and loving nature for his friends and family.  Annibale Ninchi manages to portray aspects of a human echo as Marcello’s father, with his general indifference and fleeting fascination having completely taken over, aspects that we can wholly attribute to Marcello as well.  The emergence of Nico somehow brings an aire of the mystic without having to lean on the supernatural or other obvious tropes.  Brief but memorable appearances by Alain Dijon, Lex Barker, Magali Noel, and name here also stand out.

If it’s not obvious already, I could go on an on about Fellini films, as pretentious as that sounds.  The man is a true visionary, one of my all-time favorite filmmakers, and someone that I can only hope and aspire to be remotely compared to as a filmmaker... maybe one day.  We can all dream.