#led screen Naples

[soflostudio]

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[cat-writes-sometimes]

En Pointe With The Devil Book 2, Ch 2

Augustus became obsessed with trying to make the perfect pizza when he was eleven years old, right after he and his mom saw Eat, Pray, Love with Julia Roberts. Perhaps because he was in the throes of a growth spurt and ravenous most of the time, he couldn’t get images of flat crust, ruby red sauce, melty cheese and fresh basil out of his mind.

For his birthday his mom cobbled together all the ingredients for an authentic margarita pizza: mozzarella, Italian flour, EVOO, and tomato sauce made from real Italian tomatoes. The pizza they made that day was very good, but Augustus felt it didn’t compare to the pizza he saw Julia Roberts devour on their box television set. He remembered wanting to jump through the screen (just like the girl from The Ring) for that particular pizza.

The cruel irony was that he was now sitting at that exact pizzeria in Naples, Italy, and he could barely taste anything. Maksim and Stefan were sitting right across from him, digging in and chatting in rapid-fire Romanian.

Large, communal tables lined the interior of the famous eatery, and strangers sat next to each other for a taste of what made Julia Roberts almost orgasmic. The place was packed. Augustus could have easily slipped a note to the person on his right, but judging by the fact they spoke Mandarin and pointed to a picture of what they wanted to order, it was probably a lost cause. Even if they spoke English it would probably be a lost cause anyways.

Instead, Augustus could only stare at the framed photo of Julia Roberts enjoying a life changing pizza that hung on the wall. The pizza may have been life changing for her, but Augustus needed a little more than a pizza to change his life at the moment.

Augustus had a flash of hope when Maksim told him they were going to the airport. He hoped his friends had alerted authorities. He imagined being escorted to safety once the security officers saw his name on their screens. But his hopes were quickly dashed when they entered through the back gate of the airport and drove right up to a private jet. Nobody checked his passport or ID, and no one seemed particularly interested in who he was.

Once the plane was in flight, Maksim handed Augustus a bag that contained a pair of light jeans, a hoodie with a large logo Augustus didn’t recognize, a pair of sneakers and some socks. All still had tags and everything fit perfectly. When he came out from the bathroom Maksim threw him a thumbs up before returning his attention to his laptop.

Now, just an hour after landing in Naples, they were eating pizza. Maksim noticed Augustus wasn’t wolfing down food at his typical pace.

“Eat.” Maksim ordered. At that moment Augustus heard a gun cock and froze. His head snapped up just in time to see the tourist next to him take a picture of his pizza with a Nikon. Augustus’s heart was hammering inside his chest, but Maxim and Stefan hadn’t even flinched. “Before it gets cold.” Maksim added before he casually finished his last slice. Stefan’s round tray had been empty for almost ten minutes.

Augustus hesitantly took a bit of his margarita pizza. Even on the precipice of death he couldn’t deny that it was delicious. The waiter motioned for them to hurry as the line outside began to spill over into the street, but a pointed glare Stefan ensured he didn’t return until Augustus finished.

Their next stop was an imposing building that sat behind a tall iron gate, its bars streaked with rust. Behind the gate lay a quiet cobblestoned courtyard surrounded by concrete walls that were anointed with faded graffiti. Maksim walked ahead of Augustus with an unhurried confidence, while Stefan lingered behind, his steps deliberate and slow.

Augustus was led to an ordinary apartment with three rooms and a small kitchen and dining area. It was normal. Too normal. Whose it was, Augustus didn’t know—and he didn’t want to ask. Stefan made his way through the rooms, meticulously flicking on one light after another and looking into the bathrooms, closets, and under the beds. Maksim and Augustus waited in the living room until he came back and gave a small nod.

“It’s late, daragoi.” Maksim said. On the plane, he’d started calling Tus that—daragoi.

Daragoi, are you thirsty? Here’s some clothes, Daragoi. Daragoi, take your vitamins.

“You can sleep in,” Maksim continued. “I have some things to attend to and I’ll be back tomorrow. Stefan will stay with you. If you want to go anywhere, let him know.”

Augustus glanced at Stefan. His face was unreadable, like usual. “Your room is the one on the left.” Maksim gestured toward a door. Augustus nodded and went to the room, closing the door with a soft click. He noticed the lock was missing from the door. Then he realized the room was noticeably absent of windows. A neatly folded pair of pajamas waited for him on folded white sheets. Beside the bed was a small mountain of shopping bags, overflowing with toiletries and clothes.

“Goodnight!” Maksim called.

He slipped into bed fully clothed and buried himself underneath the comforter. He could still hear Stefan and Maksim speaking in Romanian, their tones shifting between sharp and subdued. Whatever had them preoccupied on the plane seemed to follow them to the apartment. The memory of the blood soaked room flickered in his mind like a bad reel of film. When it came to Maksim’s profession, he figured it was better to stay in the dark. All he needed to do was dance.

The next morning Augustus tiptoed to the living room to find it empty. He went into the kitchen, and found a plate with toast and cut fruit on the counter. The knife block on the counter was empty making the cut fruit a mystery.

“Awake?”

“Jesus Christ!” Augustus yelped.

Stefan stood in the doorway of the kitchen, taking up the entire space with his huge frame. He sipped something in a tiny ceramic cup.

“Coffee?” he asked Augustus, holding up the dollhouse cup with two fingers. He was professionally dressed in a white shirt and trousers.

“Sure?” Augustus replied. Stefan moved past him to a machine on the counter and began pouring coffee beans into the hopper. After a painfully long two minutes he handed Augustus his own dollhouse cup.

“Thanks,” Augustus mumbled. He breathed in the steam spiraling from the inky black liquid. One whiff was enough to tell him this wasn’t coffee. It was rocket fuel disguised as coffee. Without hesitation he threw it back like a shot. It seared his throat on the way down.

Stefan paused mid-sip and raised his eyebrow.

Augustus held the empty cup awkwardly, unsure of what to do next. It wasn’t until Stefan finished after a few more sips and placed it next to the sink that Augustus put his cup down next to it.

“Shower.” Stefan said bluntly. Augustus didn’t know whether to take that as an order or a suggestion. Stefan donned a pair of bright yellow rubber gloves, picked up a soapy sponge, and pointed wordlessly toward a bathroom down the hall.

Augustus hoped the bathroom would have a window, but was disappointed (and not too surprised) when it didn’t. When he appeared later in his new clothes, Stefan was sitting in the living room, flipping through the TV channels. Augustus retreated into the hallway. He had noticed two other two bedroom doors that were shut. There had to be windows in one of those rooms.

And if there were? Would he try to run?

He reached out hesitantly, fingers brushing against the doorknob of the first door. A floorboard creaked behind him.Augustus froze.

Stefan stood at the entrance to the hallway, watching him with his trademark unreadable expression. Augustus’s blood turned to ice as he lowered his hand, every nerve in his body screaming you fucked up!

Stefan silently moved toward him, reached around and twisted the doorknob. The door opened with a soft creak. Without a word, he moved to the next door and did the same. Both rooms had windows. Stefan stood cross-armed in the hall and his message was crystal clear: fuck around and find out.

“We go out.” Stefan said abruptly, and turned down the hallway. Augustus paused a moment before padding behind him like a ghost.

Stefan offered no explanation about where they were headed. The streets outside were alive with movement—Vespas buzzed past with horns blaring, and cars edged impatiently through the narrow roads. Pedestrians hurried along the cobblestone sidewalks, each lost in their own little world. They wove through narrow alleyways lined with shops, bustling restaurants and cafes. Augustus trailed behind, craning his neck to take in the scenery.

The buildings rose high and close, their worn facades stitched together by lines of strung-up laundry, clothing flapping in the breeze like trapped butterflies. Small balconies jutted from the walls, cluttered with clay pots spilling over with greenery. Cats lounged along the railings, judging people with their sharp eyes. Augustus slowed as they passed a bakery. Pastries he’d never seen before filled the glass cases. Stefan stopped, noticing Augustus’s intrigue, and went inside. A woman in an apron smiled and said something to them in Italian. Stefan was silent.

“English?” Augustus said after a few awkward seconds, glancing at Stefan to make sure he was allowed to speak. Stefan didn’t move.

“Ah! American. I thought you Italian with how handsome you are. What I get you?”

He looked at Stefan but he offered nothing but imposing posture. The silence was too thick. “Two of those please?” Augustus pointed to a pastry that looked like a small bundt cake. Stefan pulled out his wallet.

“Two Baba’s. One for the handsome man,” she presented the cake to Augustus, “and one for dad.” Stefan didn’t look pleased.

They ate the pastries on a bench outside without saying a word and then walked back to the apartment. Augustus noticed familiar landmarks—a few of the stores and cafés they’d passed earlier—but his mind was a universe away.

Without warning, Stefan came to an abrupt stop at the bottom of a staircase attached to a building that was plain to the point of being forgettable, with cracked gray concrete and faded brick. Augustus stumbled and ran right into him. It was as if he walked into a brick wall. Stefan didn’t react. Stefan’s attention fixed on the door of the building, and he tilted his head toward the door, a silent instruction. When Augustus didn’t move, Stefan motioned to him again.

With a nervous glance back, Augustus walked up the stairs to the imposing wooden door. The iron handles were large and intricately designed, their once-ornate details softened by years of wear. Like most buildings he’d seen in his brief time in Naples, they bore the marks of time.

Augustus wrapped his fingers around the cool iron and pulled. The door groaned open, releasing a gust of stale air. He stepped inside cautiously, the dim light casting long shadows across the worn floor. When he finally looked around him, his breath caught in his throat.

It was the most beautiful cathedral Tus had ever seen. Stefan came in behind him, placing some Euros in a small donation box before walking with Augustus around the church. Centuries of art and architecture layered on each other to create a jigsaw puzzle of history and beauty. Tombs dated from centuries past, paintings that looked like they belonged in a museum, gold goblets and scepters under thick glass glistening with precious stones. Under the towering arches and gazes of painted angels, for just a moment, Augustus was able to forget.

After spending over an hour exploring the church, Stefan led Tus to a small pizza restaurant that specializes in handheld pizzas. Tus ate in silence, the meal a quiet intermission before they returned to the apartment. Maksim still hadn’t returned.

Back inside, he finished the pizza and half-watched a game show on Italian TV, the rapid chatter of the host little more than white noise. Stefan and Augustus sat on opposite ends of the couch until Augustus’s eyes began to get heavy. Stefan stared at his phone as Augustus got up and went to his room, but before he left the living room he hesitated.

“Thank you.” Augustus said. Stefan who looked up from his phone and gave a quick nod.

After brushing his teeth, he returned to his room while Stefan continued scrolling. Exhaustion tugged at him—it had been lingering ever since the incident, a weight he couldn’t quite shake. Sleep came quickly.

It didn’t last long.

At the crash of his bedroom door slamming open he bolted upright, heart hammering, just as the overhead lights flickered on. Maksim stood in the doorway, finger on the lightswitch with a gleeful smile.

“Daragoi!” Maksim announced, his tone so cheerful it sent a chill down Tus’s spine. His black button up was disheveled and covered in dust. His hair was a mess and his pants had scratches and pulled threads everywhere. He looked like he had gone through hell and back but his face was that of a kid at an amusement park. Small red dots stood out on his neck like a neon sign. “I have something to show you!”

Want to read more? Check out my page or search En Pointe with the Devil on A03 by Catrin.

[primeprofitmedia]

Valeria Golino: The Multi-Talented Italian Icon

Valeria Golino is a talented Italian actress and filmmaker, known for her work in both fields. Many people recognize her from movies like Rain Man, Big Top Pee-wee, and Hot Shots! films, where she captivated audiences with memorable scenes like the olive-in-the-belly-button. Not only has she achieved international fame, but Golino has also earned acclaim in her home country.

With the distinction of winning the esteemed Best Actress award at the Venice Film Festival not once, but twice, Valeria Golino stands among a select group of only four actresses. Her outstanding talent has received further acclaim through prestigious awards like the David di Donatello, Silver Ribbon, Golden Ciak, and Italian Golden Globe. In this article, we will delve into the life and accomplishments of Valeria Golino, providing you with a comprehensive overview of her remarkable career.

Early Life and Background

Valeria Golino, the gifted actress hailing from Italy, came into this world on October 22nd, 1965, and is anticipated to celebrate her 58th birthday in the year 2023. With a diverse ethnic background consisting of Greek, Egyptian-French, and German heritage, Golino embodies a rich mix of cultures. Born in Naples, Italy, she can credit her artistic upbringing to her parents. Her father, a Germanist scholar, and her mother, Lalla, a painter, instilled in her a deep appreciation for creativity. Additionally, Golino’s family ties include her brother, a musician, and her uncle, Enzo Golino, a columnist for L’Espresso.

Raised in an “artistic family,” Golino enjoyed a unique childhood, alternating between Athens and Sorrento, a city near Naples. It was during this time that her mother became her movie companion, introducing her to the magical world of cinema. The enchantment she found in those films quickly sparked her interest in the industry. Surprisingly, Golino did not initially envision a career in film. Instead, she aspired to become a cardiologist.

Valeria Golino’s Remarkable Professional Journey

Valeria Golino embarked on her professional career in 1983, with the guidance of her uncle, who played a pivotal role in helping her take her first steps in the entertainment industry. Her debut film, titled “Joke of Destiny,” marked the beginning of her acting journey, despite never having formally studied the craft.

In 1985, Golino further showcased her talent in the film “Little Flares.” Although initially gaining recognition through a number of films in Italy, Golino’s ambition led her to venture to Los Angeles with her family, where she began to explore opportunities in the American film industry. It was there that she made her breakthrough in Hollywood, starring in the movie “Big Top Pee-wee.” This opened doors to more significant roles, including her notable performance in “Rain Man,” alongside Tom Cruise.

Golino demonstrated her versatility by venturing into the realm of comedy as well. In 1991 and 1993, she delighted audiences with her roles in the comedic films “Superstars.” She even ventured into television series, showcasing her talent on the small screen in 1995.

Not content with just acting, Golino expanded her horizons and discovered her passion for directing. In 2013, she made her directorial debut with the film “Honey.” Furthermore, she displayed her directorial skills in both movies and web series, proving her capabilities as a multifaceted artist…Read More

Source: Prime Profit Media

[iwantasecretgarden]

This scene specifically is so powerful for Katya (played by Cybill Shepherd) as a character for a number of reasons. Firstly, she shows agency as a partner to Goncharov for the first time mid-film as his equal, willing to make problems - even former business partners - disappear. She’s not the helpless alcohol-soaked victim she portrays to avoid suspicion, even from her husband himself. Katya is aware of Goncharov’s every mood, and yet he is completely oblivious to hers. This scene with Ambrosini directly mirrors the finale, when Katya holds the gun on her husband, leaving the audience on the edge of our seats, as we know she is perfectly capable of shooting a man.

Secondly, Al Pacino acts beyond even his incredible range in his pastiche of condescension, well-meaning scorn, and misogyny that Katya, despite shooting him, was still just a daughter-figure, a princesa, a charity act he might “talk out of her hysteria.” He wheedles and begs, trying to win her over until he makes one fatal error: an anti-Semitic remark. Knowing the Goncharovs were fleeing Russia due to the Jewish round ups in their country, and despite them jumping from the fat to the fire of Naples the Mussolini Era, the layers of Pacino’s character Mario Ambrosini still manage to shine both smarmy and slick. Pacino’s famous glittering eyes immediately became a hallmark for one of the most subtle but unmistakable cinematic moments in history; the exact moment he understands Katya will kill him. Katya even kills Ambrosini in her husband’s signature style, rather than let him bleed out or perhaps escape, despite his ‘caring’ for her earlier in the film. Cybill Shepherd herself plays the affront and the fury of the anti-Semitism Katya expresses perfectly. Later Shepherd went on the record in Modern Screen to remind audiences that unlike in Christianity, there are “some sins that are unforgivable,” and that the Shoah was one. There was no possible redemption for Ambrosini.

Thirdly, the killing weapon being a direct mirror to Goncharov’s calling card - but taken from the guitar Sofia painted for Katya - illuminates why Katya is making this choice. Obviously, Goncharov never wanted children, but to send Mario Ambrosini to force Katya to get it ‘taken care of’ cemented him in cruelty. This directly contrasts to hardline Sofia, who, in her work as an enforcer and a spy, force her to act as ‘one of the guys’ (in her menswear clothing, casual cursing, and lack of feminine materialism such as makeup), chose to have an abortion because of lack of ability to keep a child alive and still pursue her line of work. This is specifically striking as the movie Goncharov was released in 1973, the same year as the hallmark Roe v. Wade that has changed the way women are able to access healthcare in America.

The subtextual relationship between the two women can be played as homo-eroticism, but also as a way to signal that Katya had found someone to call family. Sofia felt isolated and lonely until Katya arrived, and even though the two women played different tropes of the hyper-feminine wife and the very beginnings of the definition of Butch, they were able to bond over a very scarring, real experience that gave many viewers nightmares. For Katya to accept the painted guitar as a gift, and turn around and  make it part of her killing MO shows her ability to truly bloom in her role as neither prisoner nor victim, but a willing - and ruthless - participant of the Naples Underground. It’s what takes this average mob-made movie to a new height beyond the likes of femme fatales in the Hammett and Chandler era.

Despite the film being set in the thirties at the height of Mafia showmanship with the likes of Al Capone - whose personal knowledge of the underground was integral to its scriptwriting - the Cold War and U.S. relations with Russia led to Katya being cast as either a Russian Agent, or a Russian subversion. Either way, we can agree, her killing line will go down with the greatest movie quotes of the 20th century.

- From “Goncharov: A Feminist Critique” printed in Mad Magazine, (Summer 1975)

Image description of script under the cut.

KATYA HOLDS A SMOKING GUN. MARIO IS HALF SITTING AGAINST A WALL HE'S SLID DOWN, HANDS OVER HIS STOMACH. A SPLASH OF BLOOD PAINTS THE WALL.

MARIO: Katya, Katya, come on, be reasonable! Haven't I been like a father to you? To both of you?

KATYA: Goncho told you to leave us alone! He never wants to see you again!

MARIO: And this is how you think he meant it? You're going to make me disappear? I'm too big for it! Too big, I say!

KATYA points the gun at him again.

MARIO, desperately: I loved you! Like a father with his daughter. Wasn't I good to you? Didn't I take care of you? Didn't I open my arms to you? To you and Goncho both! Didn't I open Naples to you? All the doors after that terrible business in the war?

KATYA, lowering the gun: Yes. You did.

MARIO: Yes! Yes. Like a papa, I say. I showed you the best places to eat, the easiest marks to shake down, I showed you how to live! And this is how you repay me?

KATYA: You have been like a father to me.

MARIO, relieved: Thank you! This is what I am saying! I was good to you when nobody was good to your people.

KATYA's eyes narrow.

MARIO: I didn't care what you were! I fixed it so you guys had it good here. So that Italia would always be your father. And don't you owe a debt to your father? Honor your father?

KATYA reaches into her handbag. She takes out a guitar string from the painted guitar SOFIA gave her. KATYA steps closer, so that she straddles an injured, struggling MARIO.

KATYA: I do honor Italia. I will always honor my father.

Camera zooms on her fists turning around the wire garrote.

MARIO's eyes go wide.

KATYA: But this isn't about that. I hated my father.

Focus flashes to her well-lipsticked mouth.

KATYA: And Russia is my mother.

[somejerkoff]

I’ve been seeing a lot of misinformation about Goncharov lately, and I wanted to set the record straight about this fascinating piece of Italian/American cinema history. When I first heard about it, I had a hard time believing Scorsese managed to mount this ambitious epic in the same year as his breakthrough with Mean Streets, and the truth is, he did and he didn’t…

So let’s go back to 1972. After a number of acclaimed shorts, a promising feature debut with Who’s That Knocking at My Door?, and some high-profile editing gigs, Scorsese went the way of so many young directors and helmed a low-budget feature, Boxcar Bertha, for Roger Corman’s American International Pictures. Famously, upon screening the film for his friend and proudly independent filmmaker John Cassavetes, Scorsese had a rude awakening when Cassavetes told him, “Marty, you’ve just spent a year of your life making a piece of shit.” Here the seeds of Goncharov were planted.

Hearing these words in the wake of his fellow film brat Francis Ford Coppola’s masterful work on The Godfather, Scorsese knew his next work would be need to be a simultaneously grand and personal vision. He found the inspiration for his intercontinental saga in the Goncharov trilogy of novels. He managed to assemble a stellar cast—Robert De Niro, Harvey Keitel, Cybill Shepherd, John Cazale—who all believed in the script, but unlike Coppola, he did not have a studio budget. Financially, Scorsese blew his meager funds on some bravura set-pieces—an opening at the Kremlin, a Naples marketplace, and an absolutely stunning clock tower sequence—all gave plenty of bang for their buck, but he wasn’t able to thread them together into a narratively satisfying feature.

Scorsese turned to Coppola, who in turn showed the footage to Robert Evans. Evans did not see any way Paramount could release it. He did, however, arrange a gala screening for a number of television executives with the thought that this expansive story would make for a compelling miniseries. This was pre-Roots, however; miniseries were not the phenomenon they would become. No network was willing to spend the money to back the project. (Little did they know that they would be getting future TV stars Lynda Carter and Henry Winkler in small roles.) Dejected, Scorsese set the footage aside and began work on his smaller-scale but just-as-personal Mean Streets.

This was 1973. Flash-forward to the end of the 1970s and Scorsese was in a very different position. His mid-1970s run of features had established him as one of the leading lights in American cinema, but his fortunes fell upon delivering his ambitious and underappreciated flop, New York, New York, in 1977. With his two grandest undertakings of the decade both deemed failures, Scorsese had no desire to attempt to return to the world of Goncharov as a director. This is where Matteo JWHJ 0715 enters the picture, and why so many sources waffle on which filmmakers deserves the director credit.

Anyone who’s watched Scorsese’s documentary My Voyage to Italy knows that he has long been a fan of JWJH 0715’s work. The two felt immediate kinship upon meeting at the Venice Film Festival in 1979. When Scorsese mentioned the shelved Goncharov footage, JWJH 0715 lit up. The two crafted a plan to resurrect the project in one cocaine-fueled night. Scorsese handed him the footage and took on the role of producer as JWJH 0715 completed his vision.

Scorsese’s original film was not enough for the completed feature. Along with sumptuous new footage shot by Vittorio Storraro for JEJH 0715, Scorsese’s friends and collaborators also lent a helping hand. De Niro agreed to film reshoots (though ironically De Niro’s weight gain for Scorsese’s own Raging Bill led to some incongruous continuity changes within scenes), and Shepherd recorded new dialogue. Sadly, John Cazale had passed away, leading to the unfortunate but ultimately poignant decision to kill off Ice Pick Joe. Additionally, Coppola agreed to lend unused footage from The Godfather films and The Conversation to flesh out some of his sequences. This generous gift yielded enough new footage of Al Pacino and Gene Hackman that their performances were added to the picture.

Keitel had limited availability for reshoots, so Scorsese asked Paul Schrader to lend footage from Blue Collar. Schrader declined, stating that the movie would be better off if he had been asked to complete it instead of just providing scraps. In a recent Facebook post, Schrader admitted that these comments came from a place of jealousy—noting how beautifully Scorsese depicted his characters struggling with their sexualities while Scorsese showed no apparent struggles with his own.

For Shepherd’s sequences, they used footage from Peter Bogdanovich’s At Long Last Love, a move that contributed to Goncharov being underseen to this day. Shortly after the premiere of the newly-assembled Goncharov at Cannes in 1982, Bogdanovich claimed that Scorsese took advantage of his grief over Dorothy Stratten’s murder to pressure him into handing over the footage. In a conversation with Henry Jaglom, Orson Welles claimed that this was a “horseshit excuse” and that Bogdanovich told him about the decision well before the tragedy. Nevertheless, Bogdanovich’s belief that the footage was in-bad-faith helped lead to the decades the film spent in legal limbo.

It’s a strange twist of fate that a film that was borne out of Scorsese’s desire to break free from Roger Corman’s style of filmmaking ultimately found itself subjected to some of the same production techniques, particularly the cobbled-together nature, of many of Corman’s features. However, when these cobbled-together pieces happen to be the work of two master filmmakers, incredible performances from some of the best actors of the 1970s, and cinematography contributions from Storraro, Gordon Willis, Bill Butler, and Laszlo Kovacs, it’s no wonder that Goncharov has found a new generation to captivate.

[justforbooks]

Maureen Duffy was born in in Worthing, Sussex, in 1933. She grew up in a working class household where her mother instilled in her the belief that education was something that could never be taken away from you, no matter how the tides might turn. Duffy took a degree in English from King’s College, London in 1956.

Duffy had an ambition to be a poet, and at 17, won her first poetry prize. While studying at Kings College she completed her first full-length play Pearson which won her an invitation to join the Royal Court Writers Group in 1958 whose members included Edward Bon, Ann Jellico and William Gaskill, amongst others.

After graduating from Kings College, Duffy worked as a teacher between 1956 and 1961 in Naples and London, while also editing editions of poetry journals.

Duffy is the author of 34 published works crossing fiction and non-fiction. Her works include nine collections of poetry and 16 plays for stage, screen and radio.

Duffy, together with Brigid Brophy, founded the Writers Action Group in 1972, through which a sustained campaign was led for Public Lending Right (annual payments for authors based on the number of library loans of their printed books), which was passed into law in 1979.

Duffy is a founding member of the Authors Licensing and Collecting Society, which she chaired for 15 years and for which she remains president. She represents the International Authors Forum at the World intellectual Property Organization and held senior positions in the Writers’ Guild of Great Britain.

Duffy ‘came-out’ in the early 1960s and worked with the Homosexual Law Reform Society, which was leading the fight to implement the Wolfenden Report’s recommendations to decriminalise homosexuality. Duffy would write and be involved with the Minorities Research Group and Arena Three magazine, the first lesbian journal in the UK, although she found her place socially within Kenric, the west-London lesbian social group.

In 1966 The Microcosm was published – her first openly lesbian work. The novel narrates the lives of women in and around the famous and legendary Gateways club in London’s then-enclave of bohemia, Chelsea.

In the 1970s Duffy wrote for Sappho, the longest running lesbian feminist journal in the UK. In 1977 she published her poem The Ballad of the Blasphemy Trail which lambasted the case of blasphemy brought against Denis Lemon and the publication he edited, Gay News, by Christian campaigner Mary Whitehouse.

Duffy remains a vocal LGBTQ and animal right activist.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

[madpanda75]

“Taking Chances Part Six: You’re Invited”

After busting the reader and Rafael, Sonny tries to take matters into his own hands.

Sonny sat at his desk, trying to finish up a police report, but instead all he could do was watch the cursor flash on his laptop screen. The usually happy-go-lucky detective had been in a bad mood all week. He couldn’t shake the thought of you and Rafael. Together. It was his idea of a living nightmare.

One thing Sonny had learned while working at SVU was to keep his work life and private life separate. He was close to his family. He was close to his squad. The last thing he needed was for those two groups to mingle. Working with special victims, it was hard not to bring your work home with you. Sonny knew Rafael struggled with that as well. He didn’t want that for you. He didn’t want you sitting alone at a table set for two while Rafael was working late on a case. He didn’t want you to deal with the nightmares, the horrific images, the scenes they witnessed everyday.

Sonny had seen firsthand how this job affected personal relationships. He saw it on the day Mike Dodds died. Mike’s fiancé, Alice, was heartbroken, having lost the love of her life. What if that was you? Rafael had made some powerful enemies and it wasn’t too long ago when the ADA had several threats made on his own life. What if something happened to Rafael and you were the one left alone or worse, what if something were to happen to you. Sonny would never forgive himself. You just didn’t understand. You couldn’t. Sonny had hidden that part of his life, wanting to protect you.

Amanda woke the detective up from his reverie, placing a macchiato on his desk after going out for a coffee run. “So you never told us what happened to your eye,” she teased while doling out the rest of the beverages. “Did Barba finally punch you cause he was getting tired of you asking to shadow him again?”

“Nothing happened. I ran into a glass window,” Sonny lied.

“Really? Cause it looks like you ran into someone’s fist.” Amanda got closer and inspected Sonny’s nose.

“Speaking of Barba,” Fin chimed in from his desk. “I saw him the other day. The man actually smiled at me and not one of those little half-ass grins of his, but an actual smile.”

“Yeah, I stopped by his office and caught him flirting on the phone with someone,” Amanda said.

Fin swiveled around in his chair, nearly choking on his frappuccino. “Flirting?!”

Amanda nodded and took a sip of her latte. “The minute he saw me. He started blushing and immediately hung up.” She leaned on Fin’s desk and lowered her voice. “And I could’ve sworn I saw a hickey peeking out from under his collar.”

Fin laughed and shook his head in disbelief. “Aw man, it’s official. Barba is definitely getting some.”

Sonny slammed his hands on the desk and stood up. “He isn’t getting anything! There is nothin’ to get! And even if there was, I would hope Barba would treat the woman like the queen she is!!”

Sonny blushed and looked around the room at everyone’s shocked faces. The bullpen was silent with the exception of the sound of Fin’s straw as he slurped his frothy coffee drink.

Having heard the commotion, Olivia came out of her office. “Something you care to share with the rest of us, Sonny?”

“It’s nothing,” Sonny mumbled and sat down, returning to his police report.

Olivia quirked a brow. “Well then since it’s nothing. Why don’t you head over to Barba’s office. He has our warrant for the DNA swabs.” Sonny didn’t budge, simply staring at his computer screen, his hands balled into fists at the mention of the ADA’s name. “That’s an order, detective,” she sternly said.

“Copy that, lieutenant.” Sonny replied, grabbing his coat and stomping away.

“What the hell was that all about?” Fin asked once Sonny had left.

Amanda shrugged. “Beats me, but it’s definitely not nothing.”

*****

Sonny steeled himself in front of Rafael’s door before delivering three sharp knocks.

“Come in,” he heard the ADA call out.

Rafael sat at his desk, furiously writing notes on a legal pad, barely glancing up as Sonny walked into his office. “What is it, Carisi?”

“Liv sent me over to pick up that warrant for the DNA swabs. Ya’ got it or not?” The clipped tone of Sonny’s voice caused Rafael to drop his pen. He glared at the detective and handed over the warrant before resuming his work.

Sonny stood there for a moment, tilting his head as he looked over Rafael. He had never noticed how old the ADA really was—the graying hair, the deep lines etched into his face. Were those crow’s feet around his eyes?

On top of all the reasons Sonny could think of as to why you and Rafael should not be together, the age factor was by far the biggest. You had just turned thirty and Rafael had to be in his mid to late forties. The detective knew that there was only one thing a man wanted from a woman who was about 15 years his junior .

Sensing eyes on him, Rafael glanced up from his work and caught Sonny observing him. “What?” He snapped.

“How old are ya’?”

Rafael huffed out a laugh. “I beg your pardon?”

“What like 46? 47?”

“You’re out of line, detective. I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” Rafael arched a brow, his already tested patience wearing thin.

Sonny scoffed and crossed his arms. “Actually, you’re seducing my baby sister, so technically it is.”

“Technically”—Rafael got up and walked around his desk to square off with Sonny, the two men standing toe to toe—“it’s between me and Y/N. She’s the one I’m in a relationship with, not you.”

“C’mon, Rafael. Look at you and look at her. Do ya’ really think you can make her happy?” Sonny shook his head in disgust. “All these years we’ve worked together. Never took ya’ for a cradle robber,” he sneered.

“Careful, Carisi,” Rafael growled with his jaw clenched, nostrils flaring out. “I punched you once. I can do it again.”

“I’d like to see ya’ try.” Sonny leaned in. “Hope the dry cleaners can get the blood out of your Zegna suit.”

Right before it came to blows, there was a soft knock on the door “Hey, Raf?” You poked your head into his office to find your brother and boyfriend. “Oh good, you’re both here.” You stepped inside, carrying two gift bags. “Is this a bad time?”

“No,” Rafael said.

“Yes,” Sonny said at the same time, his eyes never leaving the ADA.

“Ohhhhhkay,” you replied. The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“Come in, querida.” Rafael led you inside, your presence instantly calming him.

You gave your brother a hug before moving to Rafael, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He took you by surprise and cupped your face, deepening the kiss. Sonny awkwardly stood there, rolling his eyes while you both continued to play tonsil hockey.

You eventually pulled away, your cheeks flushed pink. “Wow,” you breathed, about to start kissing Rafael once more when Sonny cleared his throat to get your attention.

“Y/N, did ya’ need something? I have to get this warrant to my boss.”

You sighed. “Ma called me this morning and since someone”—you smacked your brother on the arm—“spilled the beans about me and Rafael. She invited us all over for church and then a big Carisi family lunch this Sunday.”

“Wait, we ALL have to go?!” Sonny groaned

“Yes and we’re ALL going to behave.” You shot both men a warning look.

Rafael’s pulse began to quicken. He knew that eventually he would have to meet your parents, he just didn’t expect it to be so soon. “Really, Y/N? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“It’s too late. Ma’s already trying to get tomatoes flown in from Naples for her marinara sauce. So as an incentive for you two to get along for one evening. I come bearing gifts.” You handed Rafael and Sonny each a gift bag.

Sonny eyed the bag suspiciously. “This feels like a bribe.”

“That’s because it is a bribe,” you replied with an innocent smile.

“Fine. I’ll see ya’ Sunday,” Sonny grumbled and gave you a hug.

“Mass starts at 10:30.” You straightened his jacket and waved goodbye as he was leaving.

Rafael leaned back against his desk and dangled the bag in front of you. “So do I get to open my present now or do I have to wait until Sunday?”

“Hmmmm.” You steepled your hands and rested them against your chin. “You can open it now, but it’s really only part of your gift.”

You watched him reach into the bag and pull out a box of cannolis from Antonio’s bakery.

“Thanks.” He took out a cannoli and a napkin. “Is coffee the next part of my gift?”

Your eyes widened and you smacked the Italian dessert out of Rafael’s hands. “Oh no, that’s the wrong present.” You grabbed the box and ran to catch up with your brother. “Sonny, wait! Don’t open the—”

Sonny was already there by the time you opened the door. His face beet red.

“Box,” you quietly said.

“Too late,” he muttered and swapped presents with you before storming off.

You cringed and quietly shut the door. “That was embarrassing.”

Rafael couldn’t help but chuckle at the look on Carisi’s face. “Must be one hell of a present.”

“I’ll let you be the judge of that.” With a nonchalant shrug, you walked back over to him. Placing the box on his desk, you gingerly opened it and pulled out a sheer black lace corset detailed with emerald green silk. “I just earned a big commission and decided to splurge at Bordelle. What do you think?” You held the lingerie up to your body. The corset complimented your curves and featured a plunging shelf bra that barely covered your breasts.

Rafael licked his lips, envisioning your hard nipples straining against the fabric. “Mierda. Eres una tremenda manguita,” he purred.

You gave yourself a mental high five for picking out the outfit. Apart from the occasional pet name, Rafael only spoke Spanish to you either when he was extremely turned on or whenever you were making love.

He reached out to touch you, only to have you slap his hand away. “Ah ah ah, not so fast, counselor. You only get this if you behave on Sunday. That means no punching my brother.”

Rafael nodded and circled you like a predator does his prey before stopping to face you, his nose barely brushing up against yours. “So just to be clear, if I’m good on Sunday. You’ll wear this.” He motioned towards the lingerie you had pressed up against you. “And as a reward I get to touch you here.”  Brushing your hair back, he placed a kiss right below your ear.

“Y-Y-Yes,” you whispered in a shaky voice.

“Well, what about here.” He dropped another kiss on the hollow of your throat, grinning like the cat who ate the canary when he saw goosebumps begin to erupt on your skin.

“Mmmhmm.” You bit back a moan. The man had barely touched you and already a heat was beginning to pool between your legs. His lips on your flesh. The smell of his cologne. Your resolve was quickly wavering.

Glancing down at your cherry red pout, he ran his thumb across your bottom lip. “And what about”—his other hand skimmed under your skirt, dragging his fingertips up your inner thigh, tracing your slit with a single digit through your lace panties—“here.”

You gasped at his touch, allowing him the chance to kiss you hard, his tongue snaking into your mouth. Surrendering to the moment, you clutched his shirt as your mouth moved fervently over his, the corset falling to the floor. He stopped and looked down at the silk and lace at your feet before meeting your gaze. “Whoops, looks like you’re not wearing it anymore,” he said with a devious smirk.

“You’re terrible, counselor.” You ghosted your lips over his and arched your hips, pressing up against his growing erection.

His eyes darkened and a low growl rumbled from his chest. In an instant, he had you up on his desk and flat on your back. “I’ve been called much worse,” he teased in a husky voice and captured your mouth with his once more.

*****

With the correct present now in his hand, Sonny headed to the elevators only to stop in his tracks when he thought you may need a ride to the gallery. He walked back to Rafael’s office and froze when he heard your soft moans coming from the room followed by a muffled groan from Rafael.

Sonny made a face and quickly retreated back to the hallway. First the lingerie and then hearing his baby sister having sex again, he was in desperate need of a Silkwood shower and a stiff drink. To make matters worse, his plan of telling your parents about you and Rafael seemed to backfire. He was hoping they would freak out and call you to try to talk some sense into you. But instead, it looked like they were welcoming Rafael into the family with open arms. What was next? Picking out china patterns? His Ma giving you Nonna’s wedding dress to wear on the big day?

Sonny realized that he had to be the one to break you both up and he knew exactly how to do it. Pulling out his cell phone, he made a quick call. The phone rang for several seconds before a voice on the other end answered. “Sonny? You sonofabitch, how are ya’?”

“Hey Theo. I know it’s been awhile. Say, how would you like to come over on Sunday to my folks’ place for lunch. Y/N is gonna be there and I’d know she’d love to see ya’.” As Sonny continued to talk to your ex-fiancé, a wave of guilt washed over him, knowing that he shouldn’t be meddling in your love life. But he tried to suppress it, confident that you would thank him later.

@glimmerglittergirl​ @southern-magnolia​ @sweetcannolicarisi​ @delia26​ @obfuscateyummy​ @sass-and-suspenders​ @eclecticminded​ @thatesqcrush​ @katmstanton​ @amirightcounsellor​ @beltzboys2015-blog​ @letty-o​ @sonnysdoll​ @lyssa1385​ @sweetsummertime99​ @burningsorr0ws​ @gibbs274​ @izzythefanfreak​ @riodallas​ @babypink224221​ @livxrafa​ @esparza-army​ @obsessionprofessional​ @ottosuricato​ @melsquared79​ @dreila03​ @frenchiefoxy​ @tropes-and-tales​ @thecraziestcrayon​ @goodluckfindingone​ @scarlettsoldier​ @amirightcounselor​ @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii​ @graniairish​ @ashley-chi​ @imjustreallynosy​ @lolacolaempath @cocomel0613​

[neroesecuzioni]

watching your devil side

one.

///

The sun blazed through the large airport windows and the soft, hazy morning mist descended upon Naples. You hadn’t been in the since your last photo shoot for some jewellery line two years ago but you heard news about an old friend while preparing a home base for your art exploits in Europe.

The little kid you once saved from a beating after a pick-pocketing incident in Naples when he was ten and still had black hair was now the Don of the Passione and blond if your sources were right. You had meant to visit him two years ago but he was a hard kid to track down and meet within a time span of three days. However, now, you had all the time in the world with your current job as an artist and you were going to buy him an espresso like you promised all those years ago.

You tapped the screen of your phone and hummed.

I didn’t know you turned blond, you sent a text message and signed it with your typical Devil Yin attached to let him know it was you.

Your luggage trembled as you traversed through the bustling airport, looking for a sign with your name on it. The private driver you hired had given you explicit instructions. 

A tall man with silvery hair and in his fifties stood among the small crowds waiting for other passengers but held a small sign with your name written boldly in black. You shot him a friendly smile and waved. He bowed his head and tucked away the sign, gesturing for you to follow him.

“Hello, sir. You weren’t waiting long, were you?”

“Not at all, young miss,” he answered as he led you to a black car, “please, hand me your luggage. I trust your flight went well?”

“As well as any fourteen hour flight can go,” you replied wryly.

He opened the door for you and you slipped into the backseat, crossing your legs. The silky fabric of your pants pressed into your skin and you itched to get out of them to let your body breath after the stale plane air.

“Still the villa in Napoli, miss?”

“Yes, take your time. I still need to decompress from the trip and car rides are perfect for that.”

Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you pulled it out.

How did you know that?

You smiled and typed out quickly. I just do. Remember that espresso I promised you six years ago? You’re old enough to drink one now, don’t you think?

I accept your offer. Where are you staying? I’ll send a car over.

You texted him the address to your villa and told him to meet you at lunch. That would give you enough time to decompress, get ready, and unpack half of your things. You were staying in Italy for a while, after all.

///

A black sedan with a polite but distant driver picked you up thirty minutes before noon and deposited you in front of a little cafe tucked in between a bakery and a bookstore. You walked in, the sharp but comforting scent of espresso wafted and curled around you.

A blond head of dramatic curls peeked out from a booth along with a shock of black-blue hair. 

“I, Giorno Giovanna, will be a Gangstar!” The kid proclaimed.

That looked enough like a dramatic Gangstar to you.

“Giorno Giovanna?” you asked.

The boy turned around and sharp turquoise eyes landed on you. “It’s really you, Yin.”

“The one and only.” Your gaze slid to the man sitting beside him and you blinked. “Bruno Buccellati?”

“Devil Yin,” he greeted, a welcoming smile on his face. “It’s been a while.”

“...well, it seems like I’m caught as a disadvantage,” you said, “may I sit?”

“Yes, of course.” Giorno waved his hand. “Actually, you decided to visit at a good time.”

You sat down across from them and scrutinised the two. They were well put together with expensive suits, styled hair, and gleaming jewellery. “I’ve heard. Don of the Passione at sixteen is quite a feat. You really did become a Gangstar. Congratulations.”

Giorno smiled. “Thank you, but that’s not why your visit is...fortunate.”

“I assume the reason is why you’re here as well, signore Buccellati,” you said, guarded.

Buccellati smiled. “Perhaps Bruno would be best, signorina Yin.”

That wasn’t actually your name but you didn’t comment further, scanning the cafe. A red-patterned hat caught your eye, peeking out from another booth, and another booth with a familiar looking man with long silver hair caught your eye.

The presence of the Capo of Squadra Guardie del corpo along with his team was either a very good thing or a very bad thing and you sure hoped it was the former. You did not want to get shot at when you were trying to buy an espresso for a brat you met six years ago. You didn’t even know if this was a good idea considering the pendulum could swing any way and you wouldn’t know it.

“Hello!” A waitress swanned in, smiling prettily. “Is there anything I can get for you today?”

“A caffè lungo,” you said, staring at the two men across from you.

Giorno smiled charmingly at the waitress. “The same as her.”

“A caffè macchiato,” Bruno said.

You narrowed your eyes at them when the waitress disappeared with your orders.

“Now, why is Leone Abbacchio, signore Buccellati’s right hand man, and some strange teenager with a stand also in this cafe?” You leaned back. “I guess this isn’t the casual meeting I proposed?”

Giorno and Bruno exchanged glances and a smile cracked the blond’s facade.

“Still as perceptive as ever,” he said.

“And that’s not an answer.”

Bruno leaned forward, hands brace on the table. “We have a proposal for you, signorina Yin.”

“Listen, I’m just here to buy Giorno the espresso I promised he could have when he turned sixteen the last time we met. Not for any business with the Passione.”

He smiled, amused and infinitely a softer charm compared to the teenager beside him. 

“Come work for me in the Passione as an assassin,” Giorno said lowly. Calm, steady, and self-assured, and the turquoise eyes intense as he stared at you.

You looked at the waitress reappearing with your drinks, waiting for her to set them down and leave their presence once more. She probably knew they were the mafia with how quickly she scurried away.

“No,” you said and pushed Giorno’s drink at him while sliding the macchiato towards Bruno. The man accepted it graciously but your gaze didn’t leave Giorno’s unchanging expression. 

“No?” he asked calmly. 

“I quit the business, Giorno.” You shook your head and slid your phone across the table towards him with one of your galleries from Seattle, Washington. “I’m a painter and model now with a lot of money in stocks. I can’t go around assassinating people without drawing attention to myself. I put that life behind me for a reason.”

"We need someone of your calibre especially after the power change," he insisted. "Our assassination team lost two members before the change in power. They need a new but experienced hand and with your skills, their repertoire would expand. The amount of missions would increase for them."

You tilted your head. “...I’ll give you twenty minutes to give me the full story and another five to convince me.”

He smirked.

///

You cradled your empty cup, staring into the ceramic.

“That’s a ride,” you finally said. “A very, very long ride with too many lane changes and things going downhill but I don’t see what this has to do with you wanting me to become an assassin.”

“La Squadra Esecuzoni were being underutilised by Diavolo and we don’t want them to feel the same as they had beneath him,” Bruno explained.

“You’re afraid they’ll rebel.” You set down the cup. “And that’s not something you can afford right now. Aren’t they satisfied with the territory you’ve given them?”

“No,” Giorno said, leaning forward on folded hands. “They want more after helping us overthrow Diavolo.”

“I won’t become an assassin again,” you said.

Giorno’s expression furrowed and Bruno’s shoulders tensed, ever so slightly, but they wouldn’t force you to bend to their will. They were too nice for that.

“But... I think there’s a way I can help you.”

“Without becoming an assassin?” Bruno asked.

"I have a job in mind for them. How do they feel about being bodyguards?" You set your hands on the table between you. “I might need some while I’m here.”

“Bodyguards?” Giorno blinked.

“Did you know I was held hostage a few months ago by some pirates in the Indian Ocean? None of my friends answered my texts for two weeks. It really hurt my feelings.”

The two men in front of you exchanged looks.

///

It was rare for Risotto to call a team meeting nowadays. The last time had been hunting down Diavolo with Buccellati's squad but he was dead and Giorno hadn’t done anything yet.

Risotto sat at the head of their conference table in their new headquarters.

"The Boss has a new mission for us,” he announced. Red eyes surveyed their reactions. “As bodyguards to an important client.”

"What the fuck?" Ghiaccio said. "We're fucking assassins and he's sending us as bodyguards? Who the fuck does he think he is? Is he downgrading us?"

“Buccellati’s squad can’t handle it?” Prosciutto raised an eyebrow.

"We have no choice but to accept." Risotto slid a document into the centre of the table. “It’s a long term contract. Two of us at all times. Cash salary.”

“Di molto,” Melone breathed, eyes wide. “That’s a lot of money.”

“Holy shit.” Formaggio leaned forward to look closer at the papers. “Who the fuck are we protecting? A princess?”

“Is that a clause for vacation pay?” Illuso asked, incredulous. “They’re offering hitmen vacation pay?”

Prosciutto ran his fingers over the numbers, brows furrowed. “How did Giovanna secure something like this?”

Pesci’s eyes flickered between the other members then his black eyes landing on his mentor and asked nervously, “This is good... right, bro?”

Prosciutto didn’t answer, deep in thought as he leafed through the papers.

“Why the fuck is he giving us this mission instead of Buccellati’s squad? They’re meant for guarding. What’s Giovanna planning?” Ghiaccio scowled, arms crossed. “He would not give us something like this without leverage.”

“Giovanna said the client specifically requested us.” Risotto’s deep voice interrupted him before he could fall into a rant.

Ghiaccio adjusted his red glasses and smoothed his blue curls.

“Giorno said the client wants us to meet them at Passione headquarters.” Risotto folded his hands over the table, the black sclera of his eyes emphasised the red of his gaze. The resolve in his eyes silencing the rest of the members’ protests. “I will take Prosciutto and Illuso with me.”

“This is a hard offer to turn down,” Melone said.

“Do you have to say something we already know?” Illuso sighed.

///

Summary: La Squadra Esecuzioni ends up helping Bruno’s squad defeat Diavolo and everyone lives but the journey hasn’t even begun. Giorno becomes Don of the Passione and revolutionises the mafia but La Squadra finds themselves underutilized despite the new territory they've been given. At least, until you, an old friend of Giorno’s, takes a trip back to Naples. What they never expect is that you're a whirlwind in disguise and they can't help but get caught in your restless winds.

This entire storyline takes place in the year 2020 and everyone is alive. I can’t write a story without modern day technology or memes. Yes, this is a shitty first chapter. It might get better from here on out but we’re trying to establish a snappy first base for the zero attention span squad (me, that squad is me.)

(ao3 link)

[the-marx-brothers-will-live-on]

Leonard Joseph "Chico" Marx (March 22, 1887 – October 11, 1961) was an American comedian, musician, actor and film star. He was a member of the Marx Brothers (with Groucho Marx, Harpo Marx, and Zeppo Marx). His persona in the act was that of a charming, uneducated but crafty con artist, seemingly of rural Italian origin, who wore shabby clothes and sported a curly-haired wig and Tyrolean hat. On screen, Chico is often in alliance with Harpo, usually as partners in crime, and is also frequently seen trying to con or outfox Groucho. Leonard was the oldest of the Marx Brothers to live past early childhood (first-born Manfred Marx had died in infancy). In addition to his work as a performer, he played an important role in the management and development of the act in its early years.

Chico was born in Manhattan, New York City, on March 22, 1887. His parents were Sam Marx (called "Frenchie" throughout his life), and his wife, Minnie Schoenberg Marx. Minnie's brother was Al Shean. The Marx family was Franco-German Jewish. His father was a native of Alsace who worked as a tailor and his mother was from East Frisia in Germany.

Billing himself as Chico, he used an Italian persona for his onstage character; stereotyped ethnic characters were common with vaudevillians. His non-Italian-ness was specifically referred to twice on film. In their second feature, Animal Crackers, he recognizes someone he knows to be a fish peddler impersonating a respected art collector:

Ravelli (Chico): "How is it you got to be Roscoe W. Chandler?"

Chandler: "Say, how did you get to be an Italian?"

Ravelli: "Never mind—whose confession is this?"

In A Night at the Opera, which begins in Italy, his character, Fiorello, claims not to be Italian, eliciting a surprised look from Groucho:

Driftwood (Groucho): "Well, things seem to be getting better around the country."

Fiorello (Chico): "I don't know, I'm a stranger here myself."

A scene in the film Go West, in which Chico attempts to placate an Indian chief of whom Groucho has run afoul, has a line that plays a bit on Chico's lack of Italian nationality, but is more or less proper Marxian wordplay:

S. Quentin Quayle (Groucho): "Can you talk Indian?"

Joe Panello (Chico): "I was born in Indianapolis!"

There are moments, however, where Chico's characters appear to be genuinely Italian; examples include the film The Big Store, in which his character Ravelli runs into an old friend he worked with in Naples (after a brief misunderstanding due to his accent), the film Monkey Business, in which Chico claims his grandfather sailed with Christopher Columbus, and their very first outing The Cocoanuts, where Mr. Hammer (Groucho) asks him if he knew what an auction was, in which he responds "I come from Italy on the Atlantic Auction!" Chico's character is often assumed to be dim-witted, as he frequently misunderstands words spoken by other characters (particularly Groucho). However, he often gets the better of the same characters by extorting money from them, either by con or blackmail; again, Groucho is his most frequent target.

Chico was a talented pianist. He originally started playing with only his right hand and fake playing with his left, as his teacher did so herself. Chico eventually acquired a better teacher and learned to play the piano correctly. As a young boy, he gained jobs playing piano to earn money for the Marx family. Sometimes Chico even worked playing in two places at the same time. He would acquire the first job with his piano-playing skills, work for a few nights, and then substitute Harpo on one of the jobs. (During their boyhood, Chico and Harpo looked so much alike that they were often mistaken for each other.)

In the brothers' last film, Love Happy, Chico plays a piano and violin duet with 'Mr. Lyons' (Leon Belasco). Lyons plays some ornate riffs on the violin; Chico comments, "Look-a, Mister Lyons, I know you wanna make a good impression, but please don't-a play better than me!"

In a record album about the Marx Brothers, narrator Gary Owens stated that "although Chico's technique was limited, his repertoire was not." The opposite was true of Harpo, who reportedly could play only two tunes on the piano, which typically thwarted Chico's scam and resulted in both brothers being fired.

Groucho Marx once said that Chico never practiced the pieces he played. Instead, before performances he soaked his fingers in hot water. He was known for 'shooting' the keys of the piano. He played passages with his thumb up and index finger straight, like a gun, as part of the act. Other examples of his keyboard flamboyance are found in A Night at the Opera (1935), where he plays the piano for a group of delighted children, and A Night in Casablanca (1946), where he performs a rendition of "The Beer Barrel Polka".

Chico became the unofficial manager of the Marx Brothers after their mother, Minnie, died in 1929. As manager, he cut a deal to get the brothers a percentage of a film's gross receipts—the first of its kind in Hollywood. Furthermore, it was Chico's connection with Irving Thalberg of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer that led to Thalberg's signing the Brothers when they were in a career slump after Duck Soup (1933), the last of their films for Paramount.

For a while in the 1930s and 1940s, Chico led a big band. Singer Mel Tormé began his professional career singing with the Chico Marx Orchestra. Through the 1950s, Chico occasionally appeared on a variety of television anthology shows and some television commercials, most memorably with Harpo in "The Incredible Jewelry Robbery", a pantomime episode of General Electric Theater in 1959.

His nickname (acquired during a card game in Chicago in 1915) was originally spelled Chicko. It was changed to Chico but still pronounced "Chick-oh" although those who were unaware of its origin tended to pronounce it "Cheek-oh". Numerous radio recordings from the 1940s exist where announcers and fellow actors mispronounce the nickname, but Chico apparently felt it was unnecessary to correct them. As late as the 1950s, Groucho was happy to use the wrong pronunciation for comedic effect. A guest on You Bet Your Life told the quizmaster she grew up around Chico (California) and Groucho responded, "I grew up around Chico myself. You aren't Gummo, are you?" Groucho is heard in videos pronouncing it "Chicko", as in a Dick Cavett episode with Groucho talking to Dan Rowan.

During Groucho's live performance at Carnegie Hall in 1972, he states that his brother got the name Chico because he was a "chicken-chaser" (early 20th century slang for womanizer).

As well as being a compulsive womanizer, Chico had a lifelong gambling habit. His favorite gambling pursuits were card games, horse racing, dog racing, and various sports betting. His addiction cost him millions of dollars by his own account. When an interviewer in the late 1930s asked him how much money he had lost from gambling, he answered, "Find out how much money Harpo's got. That's how much I've lost." Gummo Marx, in an interview years after Chico's death, said: "Chico's favorite people were actors who gambled, producers who gambled, and women who screwed." Referring to Chico's love life, George Jessel quipped, "Chico didn't button his fly until he was seventy."

Chico's lifelong gambling addiction compelled him to continue in show business long after his brothers had retired in comfort from their Hollywood income, and in the early 1940s he found himself playing in the same small, cheap halls in which he had begun his career 30 years earlier. The Marx Brothers' penultimate film, A Night in Casablanca (1946), was made for Chico's benefit since he had filed for bankruptcy a few years prior. Because of his out-of-control gambling, the brothers finally took the money as he earned it and put him on an allowance, on which he stayed until his death.

Chico had a reputation as a world-class pinochle player, a game he and Harpo learned from their father. Groucho said Chico would throw away good cards (with the knowledge of spectators) to make the play "more interesting". Chico's last public appearance was in 1960, playing cards on the television show Championship Bridge. He and his partner lost the game.

Chico was married twice. His first marriage was to Betty Karp in 1917. Their union produced one daughter named Maxine (1918–2009). His first marriage was plagued by his infidelity, ending in divorce in 1940; he was very close to his daughter Maxine and gave her acting lessons.

Chico's second marriage was to Mary De Vithas. They married in 1958, three years before his death.

In the 1974 Academy Awards telecast, Jack Lemmon presented Groucho with an honorary Academy Award to a standing ovation. The award was also for Harpo, Chico, and Zeppo, whom Lemmon mentioned by name. It was one of Groucho's final major public appearances. "I wish that Harpo and Chico could be here to share with me this great honor," he said, naming the two deceased brothers (Zeppo was still alive at the time and in the audience). Groucho also praised the late Margaret Dumont as a great straight woman who never understood any of his jokes.

Chico died of arteriosclerosis at age 74 on October 11, 1961, at his Hollywood home. He was the eldest brother and the first to die.

Chico is entombed in the mausoleum at Forest Lawn Memorial Park Cemetery in Glendale, California. Chico's younger brother Gummo is in a crypt across the hall from him.

[soflostudio]

https://ext-6238347.livejournal.com/6430.html

[ironwoman18]

The Worst Third Date Ever part 29

Chapter 29: Relax and Pompeii.

Max and Spencer started their tour less day making love two times, one in their bed and one in the shower.

They decided to spend the day at the pool area so she put on a two piece blue swimsuit and on it a white dress while Spencer was wearing a green short and a shirt.

They went downstairs from breakfast. They ate the typical Italian breakfast, caffè latte with bread for Spencer while Max preferred rolls, butter and jam, and add some fruit. Then they had cookie-like rusk hard bread, called fette biscottate.

Later they went to the pool, Max was sitting in a deck chair sunbathing while Spencer was reading.

The pool started to fill with families, children playing and swimming. Max looked at Spencer.

"Spence, do you want to get in the pool?" She asked looking at him.

He looked back at her then the pool "do I have to?" He raised his eyebrow.

"Please?" She said like a little kid "I thought you said you were cure of being a germophobic"

"I am..." he said and this time was her turn to raise an eyebrow "...with certain things"

"Nothing will happen if we get into the pool Spencer" she pouted at him and he sighed.

"Ok let's go" she smiled big and he took off his shirt and stood up and also did Max.

She held his hand and they got in the water. It was a little cold but soon they got used of it the water temperature was great.

They swam around the pool, it was big and with a lot of kids with their fathers or mothers playing with them.

"Did you ever think about having kids?" She asked looking at him.

"I did. When he held Henry I thought it could be nice to have on my own but this job was all my life and my first time out of work was after getting out of prison. For every 100 days in the field I had to stay 30 out" he said as they swam "then Maeve's stalker killed her and I lost my faith in finding someone" she held his hand gently and kissed his cheek "then I met you and in months I found what I couldn't in 14 years. So my hope's of being father are there" he smiled and looked at her "what about you?"

She sighed "well I once did... when Sammy was born but as I said I didn't want to get married but also didn't believe in having kids without getting married" he looked at her confused "don't look at me like that Spencer... I'm a contradiction, but anyway... I think that I accomplished my first goal. Which was getting married I think my next step will be having kids" he smiled.

"So we are both agree about being parents" she laughed and nodded.

"Yes, we are" she hugged him. Then she saw some people playing volleyball in the pool "did you ever play volleyball?"

"No" he shook his head "I'm not good with sports"

"Ok I understand, not all people were born to practice a sport" she looked at the game "so if you want you can go back to our table and I will play here for a while"

"You sure, have fun" she smiled and kissed him "yeah babe I'm sure, you go back to your book. I will be right here" he nodded and swam back to their table while she joined the team.

Spencer walked out of the pool and on his way to their table a kid called him "sir... excuse me sir..." he turned to see the kid. He has a cast around his leg "do you know how to play chess? It just... I broke my leg at the Coliseum and now my vacations are doomed" he sighed.

"Umm yeah I know how to play but where are your parents?"

"My mom is doing pilates with "Mr. Handsome" and my dad is playing volleyball. My sister is flirting with a guy 5 years older and my brother is playing with his friends so I'm alone"

Spencer looked around. He was unsure but at the same time felt sorry for the poor kid "sure I can teach you" the kid smiled big.

"Thank you! I'm Steve and you?"

"I'm Spencer. Nice to meet you Steve" Spencer sat down "ok do you know the basic concepts of the game?" He nodded but Spencer to make sure explained again everything.

How every piece moves around, the main goal of the game and some rules.

When Steve could say everything correctly Spencer decided to play with him to teach him some basic strategies.

The kid was a quick study and after some games it was getting harder for Spencer to checkmate him.

After almost an hour Max and Steve's dad were going back to their tables when they saw Spencer and Steve playing with some kids behind each of them.

Max walked to her husband "um... Spence, what are you doing?"

"I'm playing with Steve. He made a good play and I need to protect my king"

She laughed and looked at the kid then his father "so this is your husband?" He asked and she nodded "I'm glad my son met him. He is so clumsy that he broke his leg yesterday at the Coliseum" he looked at his son "so my wife and I bought him a chessboard and he found someone who could teach him" he laughed.

"And he found the best. But I'm worry I may lose my husband for the day" she laughed looking at Spencer so focused on the game he did not say anything to her.

Spencer finally made his move and after some more minutes the game was over and they decided to stop right there.

"Maybe tomorrow?"

"I can't. My wife planned something for tomorrow and I have no idea what it is" Steve nodded "but maybe on Saturday we can play, if you want" he smiled.

"Sounds great! thank you Spencer" they shook hands and the man walked back to their table. Max was drinking some water and reading a book.

"Hey baby, what are you reading?" He asked sitting next to her.

"Inferno by Dan Brown. I never have time to read it so everytime I went to a pool I brought it to read it but I found something more interesting" she put down the book and smiled "how was the game?"

"It was nice. I won but it was harder. He is pretty good" he explained how everything happened and she laughed gently.

"I think kids love you after all" she laughed remembering what he told her about the Reid effect with kids and animals "the curse was finally broken"

He laughed and nodded "could be. And how was your volleyball game?"

"Awesome. My team won the first game but the other team won two games and we had to move so another team could play. That's where I met Steve's dad, Salvatore, he said they were from Virginia and came here because his mother died and of course they decided to bring their children with them"

"That is terrible. Have to travel across the Atlantic to see your dead mother" he sighed.

"Yes it is. I always was scared when I got a call from the nursery house my mom was in back in Vegas. And it was in the same country" Max held his hand and kissed it.

"What about we order something to eat? I saw pizza. I bet pizza in Italy must be better than anything we ever ate"

Spencer laughed and looked at her with thankful eyes. He got used to the idea of losing his mother at any moment but still the thought hurt him.

"Sure I will call the waiter and order" he did it and after some minutes they were eating pizza. They were small so he ordered two and after a few more hours they went back to their room.

They took a shower and then lay in bed to watch a movie.

"so what did you plan for tomorrow Max?" He asked curious.

"Well I decided to give you an especial day. I bought a tour to Pompeii" she looked at him "you were so excited about going so I thought we could visit it"

"I love you Maxine" he said seconds after she finished then he placed his hands on her cheeks and kissed her gently before she complained about her full name "thank you" he smiled and rubbed her cheeks.

"You are welcome" they kissed again. It escalated into something more and they ended up making love again.

They decided to skip dinner and just sleep early because their trip would leave at seven in the morning the next day.

The next morning they decided to buy something on their way to the place they will meet with their guide and the other people.

When they arrived it was six thirty so they bought something to eat and met with some other people, they talked to them until the van arrived, they hopped aboard and travel south in air-conditioned comfort to Italy’s Campania region.

As they traveled, they listened tales about the colorful southern Italian area and Mt. Vesuvius.

"After the volcano’s infamous AD 79 eruption, lava and volcanic ash destroyed the cities of Herculaneum and Pompeii. Evidence of those ancient streams of lava is still evident in the area" said Spencer and their guide looked at him surprised.

"He loves the history" said Max smiling and everyone looked at them, then the guide showed them some pictures in their LED screen.

"Pompeii was once a thriving Roman city; today the town is best known for its UNESCO-listed archaeological digs, which are home to a wealth of relics" said the guide.

When they arrived they saw incredibly preserved fossils and other ruins, plus plaster imprints of the town’s victims who were buried for years.

There you can see the remains of the Forum and Teatro Grande, where some 5,000 people could once be seated.

The tour guide told them about day-to-day life for the Pompeii locals as they wandered streets where ancient shops, cafes and even brothels could be found.

Their guide let then some free time for sightseeing, and after that they had a Neapolitan pizza lunch.

They stood in front of them and said "Normally we could hike the Mt Vesuvius but from November 20 to March 31, the Mt is unacceptable" a lot of people sighed and cursed softly, the man continued "So the hike is replaced with a visit to the iconic City of Naples, where we will take a panoramic bus tour and have some free time to walk around the city center"

The city was beautiful and Max made sure to take photos of everything they saw. Then they returned to Rome.

Spencer and Max slept on their way back to Rome. When they arrived the guide woke them up and they took a taxi back to their hotel.

They spent their Saturday in the hotel with their new friends. Sunday was their last day so they decided to buy more souvenirs for the others left.

When they have it they used their night putting their things in their suitcases, then lays in bed and fell asleep hugging each others.

That was the best week they had and they will keep this amazing city in their mind, hoping to return some day.

OOooOOooOO

Hope you liked this. The next one will be their return to Washington.

Read you later.

[cacti-are-like-flamingos]

Trish Una x Latina! Reader

You sat on the living room couch, eyes glued onto the brightness up screen of the TV across from either of you, your main interest being the drama series that the network was currently displaying. Your hands subconsciously caressing the exposed skin of your lover's back, running up and down in light comforting touches. Her body straddling your lap, either legs on both sides, her skirt acting as a blanket of sorts as it blanketed the rest of your lower body. Her petite arms wrapped around your neck, fingers buried in your hair, lazily playing with (h/c) curly locks. You smiled as you felt Trish nuzzle her face deeper into the crook of your neck, hearing her sigh in pleasure at the smell of your lavender and coconut scent. Today was one of those days you had once dreade, nothing to do, just wallowing in your boredom. But now, now that you had found her, these were the days you couldn't wait for. You had come to the conclusion that you once dreaded those days because you had no one to spend them with, but now you did.

You had came to Italy due to there being an optional international field trip made by your Italian Language class. It was a trip that was meant to further enforce your knowledge over the langaueg itself and to fully emerge yourself with the colorful culture. You had managed to convince your family to let you go, promising to pay most of the expenses and such. Next thing you knew, you were leaving the airport and entering the beautiful city of Naples. A few days into your trip, while you were with your classes tour guide, you had ran into some trouble after wandering off to buy some cannolis. You lost the rest of the group and then all of a sudden, gunshots and what not rang through the air. Much more occurred during the fight but you were too lazy to go into much detail. All that was needed to know was that you saved Trish's ass at the fight, nursed her back to health, and became somewhat of a bodyguard. Her father had found out about what you did and so he wanted you to protect her, you couldn't actually deny a gangster to be honest. Oh buddy, that very same night after you had met with her father, the call back home, oof. You had told you parents that a very high ranking school had become interested in you, offering you a good scholarship to study with them. Although you were in your junior year of highschool, they said that they would provide all you needed to survive in another country. They were surprised, shocked at the very beginning, but after asking if you could deal with living on your own and you saying yes, they allowed it.

Few weeks pass by, either of you had developed a crush on each other. And considering that the both of you lived together now, things were sometimes difficult. Trish never got used to the fact that you would walk out of the shower wearing nothing but a rather short towel wrapped around your body, and you could never get use to the revealing outfit she always wore. You had been the first to confess. It was late in the night....morning actually. It was around 4 am, you didn't have the capability of sleeping the day, hundreds of thoughts racing through your mind. Beginning a conversation with the young 16 year old, you being just a year older, it had led to many random topics until finally ending up on the topic of love and romance and shit. You remembered how you smoothly said, "I've never been in love....'till I met you." The face your beloved pink-haired lover made was one that you could always laugh at even to this day. So shocked, blush-filled, and happy. You got together after that, leading to today.

You glanced down to the ring that adorned your wedding finger, admiring its simplicity. Either of you weren't engaged to one another, but in a way, these rings symbolized your loyalty to one another. What were they called again....a promise ring? You figured that it sounded dumb but that's what they were. However, even though the two of you weren't engaged or anything, you would often refer to each other as wives. Close friends of yours, ones that you made in Italy, had often asked, "How's the wife?" In the beginning, they had meant it as a way to joke around, later on it just became a thing. Either of you were too young to wed, that much was obvious, but that didn't mean you didn't act like a married couple.

You lived all the memories that you shared with Trish, loved all the memories that you shared with the gang. Memories that you lived the most involved the two of you teaching ecahothers your native languages. You taught her Spanish and she taught you Italian. It was common for pet names to be spoke in either's mother tongue. You would call Trish, " Amor de mi vida", "mi amor", or "bebe". Trish called you, " mio caro" "amore mio," or "bella". It was also common for you to rsapond to eachother in your own mother tongues, " Want to eat outside?" "Porque no, es un lindo dia." "How was it at Passione?" "Fugo pugnalò di nuovo Narancia sulla guancia con una forchetta."

Meeting Trish was something you would never regret.

"(Y/n)?" You glanced down, finally realizing that your partner was gazing up at you with a sort of worried look in her beautiful eyes. "Yes?" "What are you thinking about? I've been calling out your name for minutes now. You seemed deep in thoughts." Smiling fondly, you brought your hand to caress her cheek, enjoying the smoothness of her skin as well as the feeling of her leaning into your palm. "I was thinking about you." Her face went pink, a small smile on her lips. "And what were you thinking about?" You chuckled," Everything."

The two to you stayed silent for the next five minutes, getting lost in each other's eyes. "Te amo Trish." The pink haired gangster smiled softly.

"Ti amo anch'io amore mio."

[ljones41]

"MEN IN BLACK: INTERNATIONAL" (2019) Review

"MEN IN BLACK: INTERNATIONAL" (2019) Review Last year, Sony Pictures had announced its intentions to add a fourth entry to the MEN IN BLACK" movie franchise. I have to be honest. I did not receive the news with any real enthusiasm. And my feelings had failed to change when I learned the identities of the movie's two main stars.

"MEN IN BLACK: INTERNATIONAL" only shared a few similarities to the franchise's past three films. One of the co-stars proved to be Emma Thompson, who had returned for her second appearance in the franchise as Q, the MIB agency's director. The agency's Manhattan office also appeared in the film. And the MIB agents were up against another deadly alien trying to conquer Earth. Otherwise, there were major differences in this fourth film. Instead of Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones, "MEN IN BLACK: INTERNATIONAL" starred Chris Hemsworth and Tessa Thompson, who had been co-stars in the 2017 Marvel film, "THOR: RAGNAROK". Most of the "MEN IN BLACK: INTERNATIONAL" locations were set outside of the U.S. in London, Marrakesh, Naples and Paris. The last difference featured the circumstances surrounding the recruitment of Tessa Thompson's character into the agency. Unlike Will Smith's Agent J, Thompson's character had become aware of the Men in Black agency years before she joined it. The biggest difference between this film and the previous three movies involved a potential threat within the internal affairs of the Men in Black. In 1996 Brooklyn, a young girl named Molly Wright witnesses her parents being neuralysed by Men in Black agents, while she helps an alien escape. Twenty years later, Agents H and High T of the MiB London office travel to Paris to stop an invasion of the Hive – a parasitic race who invade planets by merging with the DNA of the conquered species – at the Eiffel Tower using a wormhole included in the original migration to Earth. After being rejected from the F.B.I. and the C.I.A., due to her "delusions" regarding alien life, Molly tracks down an alien landing and follows MiB agents to their New York City headquarters. Caught entering the agency, Molly makes an impression on the agency's director, Agent O and becomes probationary agent status as "Agent M". She is eventually assigned to the London branch. Agent M's new supervisor is High T, who has become head of the London office. The latter assigns her to become Agent H's new partner, who has developed a God complex, unconcerned with his duties and only keeping his job due to High T covering for him. Both M and H are assigned to guard a royal alien named Vungus the Ugly, during the latter's visit to Earth. A pair of alien twins manage to fatally injure Vungus. The latter gives M a strange crystal before he dies. And the agents of the London office realizes that a MiB agent may have betrayed Vungus to the alien assassins. Due to his lackadaisical behavior, H has become the main suspect. However, this does not last long and M eventually becomes tagged as the agency's traitor. M and H take matters into their hands and decide to conduct their own investigation - an act that leads them to become fugitives from the Men in Black agency. Following the release of "MEN IN BLACK: INTERNATIONAL", many critics and fans of the franchise had rained criticism and scorn upon it. Needless to say, the movie proved to be a box office failure, despite making a small profit. It is considered to be the worst film in the franchise. While many blamed the movie's narrative; the majority of the film's negative press seemed to stem from the fact that the movie had not been directed by Barry Sonnenfeld, who was responsible for the franchise's first three films. And there were a handful of disgruntled fans who seemed to resent the presence of Tessa Thompson as one of the film's leads, due to her gender. How do I feel about all of this? I do have a few problems with "MEN IN BLACK: INTERNATIONAL". One, this movie is not funny. What I meant is . . . it lacked the twisted and sardonic humor of Barry Sonnenfeld. If I have to be more specific, the film's humor barely generated any real laughs from me. I merely found myself feeling amused by some of the more comic moments. My second problem with "MEN IN BLACK: INTERNATIONAL" was Agent H's fate near the end of the movie. I did not like it. Considering his age and recent mental condition, I thought he was unnecessarily rewarded for his actions in stopping the main villain. My final problem with the film is basically minor. "MEN IN BLACK: INTERNATIONAL" featured the character of Agent O from the 2012 film, "MEN IN BLACK 3". To me, this was an indication that "MEN IN BLACK: INTERNATIONAL" was a continuation of the previous three films. If so, I thought screenwriters Art Marcum and Matt Holloway could have hinted on the fates of Agents J and K from the first three movies. What happened to them? Despite my complaints about the film, I did not dislike "MEN IN BLACK: INTERNATIONAL". In fact, I enjoyed it very much. And this was due to certain aspects of the film. One, I found some of the movie's special effects rather impressive, thanks to the visual effects team, Stuart Dryburgh's cinematography and Thomas Brown's art direction team. I was especially impressed by those scenes featuring Vungus' death in London, H, M and Pawny's escape from Marrakesh and especially their final showdown against the Big Bad at the Eiffel Tower in Paris. Another aspect of "MEN IN BLACK: INTERNATIONAL" that I enjoyed was its cast. Personally, I thought it was first-rate. The movie benefitted from a solid supporting cast that included Laurent and Larry Nicolas Bourgeois (aka Les Twins), who did an excellent job of conveying the silent, yet physical menace of the shape-shifting aliens known as "the Twins"; Tim Blaney, who returned to voice Frank the Pug; Kayvan Novak, who voiced the royal alien Vungus the Ugly; and Spencer Wilding. I found Rafe Spall's portrayal of Agent C of the UK branch rather sardonic, yet entertaining. Emma Thompson was excellent as usual as the Men in Black director, Agent O. Rebecca Ferguson gave an eccentric, yet funny performance as an alien intergalactic arms dealer and H's ex-girlfriend Riza Stavros. Liam Neeson's portrayal of High T, the head of the MIB UK branch, struck as equally off-beat and funny. And I felt that Kumail Nanjiani gave the best voice performance of all as Pawny, the small alien warrior that Agents M and H befriend. And of course, we have the movie's two leads - Chris Hemsworth and Tessa Thompson. Many crtics had been impressed by their screen dynamic in the Marvel film, "THOR: RAGNAROK". This led the producers of this film to cast them together as Agents H and M. And they did not fail. Thompson did a wonderful job as the uber observant and clever Molly Wright, who becomes the agency's newest recruit, Agent M. Hemsworth did an equally fantastic job in portraying Agent H, one of the agency's best agents who seemed to be suffering from some kind of post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), following his and Agent High T's defeat of the Hive, three years earlier. Not only did the two leads gave great performances, they also proved that their on-screen dynamic had not dimmed one bit. If I must be brutally honest, I was more impressed by their screen chemistry in this film than I was in "THOR: RAGNAROK". I realize that many people may not agree with me on this next topic. But if there is one thing that truly impressed me about "MEN IN BLACK: INTERNATIONAL", it was the screenplay written by Art Marcum and Matt Holloway. I found it very original for a movie from the MEN IN BLACK movie franchise. The previous three movies usually introduced the Big Bad either in the opening scene or not long after the opening. I cannot say the same for this film. Both Marcum and Holloway had not only created a mystery surrounding the Big Bad, they also included a possible traitor or mole within the Men in Black agency that might be assisting the main villain. Now this might be normal in a MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE movie or some other spy thriller. But in a MEN IN BLACK film? For the first time, this franchise had created a combination of a science-fiction movie and an espionage flick. It is a pity that many critics and film goers could not appreciate this. Perhaps it would have been easier if the film had followed the franchise's usual formula. In the end, I realized that I would not waste my time lamenting on the box office failure of "MEN IN BLACK: INTERNATIONAL". It was not the first box office bomb that I ended up enjoying. And I doubt that it will be the last. Although I found the film's humor rather lukewarm - worthy more of a small chuckle instead of a belly laugh - I cannot deny that I truly enjoyed the film's narrative, along with the exciting action sequences and the talented cast led by Chris Hemsworth and Tessa Thompson, thanks to director F. Gary Gray. Many others may have been disappointed by this film. But I was not.

[naplesvideo-blog]

Video coverage is a very lucrative business in the world today, especially in the United States. Many companies have emerged through this innovative idea of shooting videos for different purposes. There are several kinds of videos that are being covered, but in this article, you will learn more about the trade show coverage.

Trade show videos are no ordinary task and it requires proper production for both professional loops and exhibits booth videos. So far, so good, many have made a living out of it. The trade show crews are very much available in many cities of the country at affordable rates.

Why is trade show video important?

There are several reasons why people are interested in trade show coverage asides being a very strong display tip for recognition. Although, it wins attention, below are other things that come with it.

Viewers attraction: This is the first advantage of trying out a trade show coverage because it attracts more viewers and this ultimately influences more traffic. Sooner or later, there is going to be a lot of people flocking into your booth to see what you have to offer.

National video marketing: This is an experience no one ever wants to miss. While it is being provided to attendees which is a way people get to spend more time at the booth, the display is being enhanced – a strategy to gain more customers or make profits from the exhibition.

Video editing: One of the major benefits of a trade show production is the editing of video contents for customers. This can be done for both new or previously existing videos.

Accessibility: The trade show video coverage has special designs which are accessible to different devices such as LED displays, TV monitors, computer screens, etc. to meet customer’s demands.

How to create trade show video content with a crew?

In order to create good video marketing content, a camera crew trade show video coverage is the best move to make. It gives you and your team an edge over other crews out there only known for shallow video production.

To make sure the content is well created, you need to:

Cover customer’s testimonial video

Record videos with enough demonstrations and illustrations

Explain what you have to offer and what people stand to gain

Finally, market your brand with a logo display

These strategies listed above are smart, nice and easy to make a wonderful video production in Naples with the best affordable crew.

Although, you need a good videographer who is good at capturing trade shows and also a professional who has more knowledge about video marketing. However, your services must be able to meet limited or tight budgets, so you can gain more clients.

Conclusion

Trade show video coverage is one of the many things most people are rushing to do nowadays. Having in-depth knowledge about it makes it even better to make more profit. In conclusion, always remember that good video production in Naples brings more clients and recognition as expected.

[littleharpethcrossfit]

Saturday,  9 April Warmup.....Push Press/KBS.....Big Met-Con.....Sit-Ups.

It’s gonna be a cold one.  Robert was so worried he even brought some extra propane for our patio heaters.

Sweet Dana led us in her soccer-style warmup.  It was great !!

Warmup #2:

25 Jumping Jacks performed to the distinctive rhythm of ABBA’s “Take A Chance On Me”.   The last time I tried to make the class do this for the entire song there was mass rebellion and the daily attendance dropped 50%.   That’s why I’m only programming 25 reps.  Surprisingly, nearly everyone did these with minimal groaning.

Strength WOD:

The Push Press is 60 to 75% of 1 RM.

The KBS should be AHAP.  Think of Coach Evan’s at BA.

Push Press                     5          5          5          5         5

Heavy Russian KBS       15        15         15       15        15

Average Dave=156     Ed=155     Robert=145     Nathan=135     Timmy=130     Dyer=115     Warren A/Coach/Tom/Rodney/Dana/Angel=75     Joe=65     Linda/Sandy/Cheri=55

The Metabolic Conditioner:

I did this at a Box in Naples, so I stole it.

Each of the Exercises are for 20 Reps.

Run 400 / Row-Ski 500 / Bike ERG 1000m.

Wall-Balls  (+ 30/20/14)      Pull-Ups       Dips  (+ Rings) 

Run 800 / Row-Ski 1000 / Bike ERG 2000m.

Box-Jump (+30/24/20)    Back Raise    Gob. Sq. (+70/53/35)  

Run 400 / Row-Ski 500 / Bike ERG 1000m. 

RX+

Robert=14:01     Average Dave=15:15

    Dana=12:28    Nathan=15:25     Cheri=16:13      Linda=16:22     Ed=16:28     Timmy=17:10*     Warren A=17:37     Angel=18:18     Joe=18:25     Coach=18:45     Rodney=20:11     Dyer=20:51      Tom=21:15     Sandy=21:25 

Extra Credit:

Sit-Ups Anyhow:     10 / 10 / 10 / 10 / 10

Notes:

It wasn’t as freezing cold as expected today.  The bright Sun helped a lot, as did the absence of wind.  Tomorrow will be warmer.

Herb and Sue were absent.  They had an excuse.  Armando and Shannon were absent and didn’t have an excuse.  They gifted the Barn with a much needed pair of 15 lb Dumb-Bells last Thursday.  I hope it wasn’t a goodbye gift.

Sunday at 1 PM.  There is a semi-secret workout for decrepit old folks that starts at 0730.  Medicare and AARP cards will be screened. 

[pixtourz]

$3,000 - WHITTENBERG VILLA ANNUAL UNFURNISHED RENTAL! Virtual Tour: http://vtours.pixtourz.com/49150efd/ ANNAUL UNFURNISHED NAPLES RENTAL! This 3 bedroom 2 bath Attached Villa 2 Car Garage with POOL & Private Preserve View. Located just minutes to downtown 5th Ave in the small gated "BOUTIQUE" community of Whittenberg Villas. MAINTAINED, CLEAN & MOVE IN READY! Interior just freshly painted, NEW AC, White Plantation Shutters, Vaulted Ceilings, New Ceiling Fans w/LED Lighting, Tile Floors,NO CARPET! Spacious Open Floor Plan, nice size kitchen w/Eat in Kitchen Nook, Granite Counters, Breakfast Bar, Large Dining/Living Area, Master Bedroom w/French Doors open to the Pool Lanai, 2 Walk In Closets, Large Shower in Master Bath, 2nd Bedroom has its own En Suite Bathroom w/Shower, 3rd Bedroom could also be used as Den or Office Space. Screened in Lanai w/your own POOL & Electric Hurricane Shutters. Laundry Room in Residence. 1st, Last & Security Deposit Required to Move In! HOA Application Fee, Background & Credit check. Property Type: Villa Building Type: Villa Bedrooms: 3 Bathrooms: 2 House Size: 1386 Year Built: 1998 MLS#: 221072184 For more information call (239) 220-5119