#jackie doe

[jabberwockprince]

they're in love, your honor. its just a weird, dysfunctional, unhealthy, obsessive and weird again type of love but my god, it sure is love

[chloesimaginationthings]

New FNAF clown Jackie from secret of the Mimic!!

[heartz4shauna]

gf who served VS gf who ate

[princess-pine-cone]

[vlindervin7]

realised yesterday just how often hozier actually used to sing about being not quite alive, not feeling like a person, about loving someone in a way that defies death and made him more alive, about suffering death for love. it's like he was constantly being buried underground and unearthed by love, over and over, which, while romantic in a way, is also incredibly sad. but i think it's interesting how his latest album (literally called 'unreal unearth') takes this idea and makes it its central theme. that's what this album is, one man's descent into the underworld. except, crucially, he makes it to the other side, and ends the album saying the darkness will come again, but this time he is "never going back [to hell] again." it feels like such a full-circle moment considering the rest of his discography and i'm so very excited to see what comes after this

[priestblaster]

the rest of the yellowjackets: "WE'RE FUCKING STARVING WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE NO ONES COMING TO SAVE US!!"

lottie: "don't worry guys, blood sacrifice with me 🥺"

[aeirithgainsborough]

no but yellowjackets paralleling lottie’s dream to jackie’s im still feeling insane about it. jackie who said multiple times they were going to be dead soon anyway and hating it out in that wilderness and losing her footing in the team and her sense of self and having no will to survive. lottie who is becoming not only a leader but a beacon of hope to these girls who have found something holy in her, who has endless hope ‘we won’t be hungry much longer’ ‘javi is still alive i can feel it’, who killed the bear, who works to ensure the groups’ survival. jackie needing to find that footing she lost so in her dream everyone is looking after her and assuring her of their love. lottie feeling the pressure of everyone’s belief in her and that manifesting as their cruelty in her dream they are laughing at her and she is letting them down, she cannot even say a prayer. jackie who was in a way killed by the cruelty of the girls having their devotion in her dream. lottie who gets their devotion in reality having their cruelty in her dream. jackie who can’t find the will to survive who doesn’t fight who doesn’t go back into that cabin being guided gently into death by laura lee ‘it’s not as bad as you thought is it’. lottie who does want to survive being pushed hard back into life by laura lee ‘we have to get you out of here you have to go go! go!’. just. this fucking show.

[levitatingbiscuits]

something so fucked up about shauna shipman is that she is still so obsessed with jackie taylor that she will recreate that toxic, one-sided jealousy and resentment with her own daughter. our introduction to shauna is a scene of her masturbating in callie's bed while staring at a picture of callie's boyfriend. the immediate parallels are unmistakable, because we also see her teen self fuck jeff later that episode. we both know that it was always more about taking something from jackie than any real love for jeff; now she's lusting after her daughter's underage boyfriend and secretly resenting callie in much the same way she secretly resented jackie and lusted after her boyfriend. she even mistook callie for jackie when she wore the same uniform a few episodes later.

as the first season progressed, we saw a lot of shauna's pretty chilling dislike of her own child. sure, callie's a little shit, but she's also a teen girl with deep-seated mommy issues. shauna is a woman in her 40s acting like the catty mean girl she never had the courage to be in high school. she talks shit about how much she doesn't like callie, she relishes in holding one over on her, she shows off the affair she's having with a hot younger man, she threatens callie's future, she manipulates her, and so on and so forth. she treats callie like she might have treated jackie, if the power dynamic were reversed.

and what's really heartbreaking is that callie, much like jackie, had no idea about this deep-seated jealousy and resentment. neither of them have the callousness nor the mean streak that shauna does. for jackie, shauna always mattered most; and we see how callie blooms under the attention and approval her mother gives her when she helps cover up her crimes in season two.

then shauna had the goat breakdown, and i realized that this is the closest thing to love she can give callie. she can't love her daughter the way she loved wilderness baby, can't open herself up to that kind of pain again. but she also can't help but love her child, so she recreated the only other comparable form of love she'd ever felt: her love for jackie, which is much more complicated and messy and cruel than a mother's love for her child.

[shadow0-1]

jailed for being a Graves defender :(

[quicksillver]

my friend jackie :)

[periwinklekryptonite]

Does anyone ever think about the tragedy of jackie taylor, someone who's been coerced into committing sexual acts, doing the same thing to another person in order to feel in control of herself

[whatyourehungryfor]

just leaving this here

[predictablesloth]

i'd say it's been too long to post this, but it's never to late to draw a legend.

[steveyockey]

While some of both Davis and Crawford’s work could arguably be described as camp (for the former, King Vidor’s Beyond the Forest; for the latter, later-era films such as Strait-Jacket and aspects of the wondrous Nicholas Ray film Johnny Guitar), that their entire careers and places within film history are defined as such does a disservice to their artistry. But they aren’t alone in representing what has become a troubling trend when it comes to women’s work. As camp entered the mainstream lexicon, especially after Susan Sontag’s landmark 1964 essay, “Notes on ‘Camp,’” the term has been increasingly tied to work featuring women who disregard societal norms. Camp is often improperly and broadly applied to pop culture that features highly emotional, bold, complex, cold, and so-called “unlikable” female characters. I’ve seen films and TV shows such as the witty masterwork All About Eve; the beguiling Mulholland Drive; the stylized yet heartwarming Jane the Virgin; Todd Haynes’s Patricia Highsmith adaptation Carol; the blistering biopic Jackie; the deliciously malevolent horror film Black Swan; Joss Whedon’s exploration of girlhood and horror, Buffy the Vampire Slayer; the landmark documentary Grey Gardens (which inspired the 2009 HBO film starring Jessica Lange and Drew Barrymore); and even icons such as Beyoncé and Rihanna be described as camp. Look at any list of the best camp films and you’ll see an overwhelming number of works that feature women and don’t actually fit the label. Usually, What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, the film whose behind-the-scenes story provides Murphy’s launching pad for Feud, will be at the top of the list.

While camp need not be a pejorative, that hasn’t stopped it from being widely used as such. In effect, being labeled as camp can turn the boldest works about the interior lives of complex women into a curiosity, a joke, a punch line. The ease with which camp is applied to female-led films and shows of this ilk demonstrates that for all the (still-paltry) gains Hollywood has made for women in the decades since Davis and Crawford worked, our culture is still uncomfortable respecting women’s stories.

That major Hollywood icons such as Marlene Dietrich, Bette Davis, Joan Crawford (and, more recently, Natalie Portman, thanks to Jackie) have been roped into this lineage isn’t surprising. Society doesn’t know what to do with women of this ilk without discrediting their very womanhood. Take artist and filmmaker Bruce LaBruce’s offensive description of Mae West in an essay on camp: “[She] played with androgyny to the degree that her final performance — her autopsy — was necessary to prove her biological femaleness.” In his 2013 essay “Why Is Camp So Obsessed with Women?”, J. Bryan Lowder expands on Sontag’s most well-known line: “It’s not a lamp, but a ‘lamp’; not a woman, but a ‘woman.’ To perceive Camp in objects and persons is to understand Being-as-Playing-a-Role.” Lowder writes, “‘Woman,’ the concept within the quotation marks, is not the same thing, at all, as a real woman; the former is a mythology, a style, a set of conventions, taboos, and references, while the latter is a shifting, changeable, and ultimately indefinable living being. Of course, there may be some overlap.” But if all gender is a performance, where does the “real” woman begin? And why does the presence of camp hold more importance than the actual work and voices of actresses such as Crawford, who have come to be defined by it?

At times, camp can feel like a suffocating label. Its proponents often misconstrue the fact that recreating oneself as a character is not merely an aesthetic for women, but rather, for many, a matter of survival. Living in a culture that profoundly scorns ambition, autonomy, and independence in women, girls learn quickly the narrow parameters of femininity available to them. When they transcend these parameters, life can get even more difficult. Women often pick up and drop various forms of presentation in order to move through the world more easily. Performance as a woman — in terms of how one speaks, walks, talks, acts — can be a means of controlling one’s own narrative. Camp often limits this part of the discussion, focusing instead on the sheer thrill of watching larger-than-life female characters cut and snark their way across the screen. How these works speak to women, past and present, becomes a tertiary concern at best, and the work loses a bit of its importance in the process; it either comes to be regarded as niche or, if it still has mainstream prominence, as abject spectacle. In turn, the conversations around these works become less about the women at their centers and more about how those women are presented.

Much of Baby Jane’s camp legacy comes down to how more recent audiences have interpreted Davis’s performance. She’s ferocious, frightening, and grotesque. But framing Davis’s performance as camp, as Murphy does, doesn’t take into account how dramatically acting has shifted over the course of film history. In some ways, camp has become a label used when modern audiences don’t quite understand older styles of acting. Modern actors privilege the remote, the cold, the detached. The more scenery-chewing performances that make the labor of acting visible — such as the transformative work that Jake Gyllenhaal did in Nightcrawler, or most of Christian Bale’s career — is typically the domain of men. (Or, at least, it’s only men who can get away with it without being called campy.) As Shonni Enelow writes in a marvelous piece for Film Comment, “[Jennifer] Lawrence’s characters in Winter’s Bone and The Hunger Games don’t arrive at emotional release or revelation; rather than fight to express themselves, her characters fight not to. We can see the same kind of emotional retrenchment and wariness in a number of performances by the most popular young actors of the last several years.” Davis’s work as an actor was the antithesis of that; she painted in bold colors. Even her quietest moments brim with an intensity that cannot be denied.

[izel-scribbles]

malevolent 42 spoilers

hey harlan,,,, we could've done without the voice crack on that last "arthur!"

srry if this looks fucking terrible. i drew it during ela while we listened to the tell tale heart

anyways jarthur hug as an apology

[allbornscreaming]

FONTAINES D.C. — Jackie Down the Line Live on CNN's Amanpour +