#lovable rogue!harry

[gurugirl]

I come to let the public know that loveable rogue is completed and amazing! Highly recommend !!!!! Such a beautiful story and the last part really did warm my heart (got a little warm from the smut as well🤭)

🩷🩷

Ahhhh thank you Monica 😭 I loved putting the story together for y’all. I hope now that all parts are complete everyone will give it a shot!

I’m so glad you liked how I ended the series 🥰

Xoxo

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I think one of the biggest reasons the "Charles is racist" accusations did not stick because the Sussexes also accused Catherine along with Charles. And noone could believe that of Catherine. So it took the wind out of those sails.

Of course, this could just be my own personal bias, but Catherine being racist is just not believable to anyone, even the ones who claim not to like her. Subconsciously most people would go back to their own impression of her when thinking about these accusations and she has such anhuge body of positive presentation (that is, she presents a very positive image, happy countenance, positive body language) all through the years.

Accusing Catherine along with Charles completely trashed the Sussexes years of PR of the BRf being racist. And now most people dismiss Meghan's grievances as her being sensitive or manipulative or lying.

And for once, Charles did not clap back at all. He maintained a very dignified silence and happily went on with his business being the "lovable granpa king" PR construct that he likes to present as.

Which brings me to this - The BRFs policy of never complain never explain seems to really work. Whenever they have reacted immediately and played PR games with Harry and Meghan it backfires. But their long terms stratgies with HnM work well.

Do you think it's good PR management and advisors or are the principals - Charles, William, Camilla, Anne, Catherine - naturally smart, strong people who are completely over Harry's shenanigans. Or do they dislike Meghan so much, she is so transparently maniacal, that they do not want to engage with her at all?

I really marvel at the way Harry and Meghan seem to eventually self-destruct every single time all on their own.

That's a good question. I think some of the principals are naturally smart enough to see through these shenanigans because they understand it's connected to Meghan and they want nothing to do with Meghan. I would put William, Kate, and Anne in this category.

Other principals have strong advisors and when they listen to the advisors, it's really, really effective. I put Charles in this category. When Charles listens to his advisors (which probably include William and Anne) and he honors "never complain, never explain" policy, it works. It grey rocks Harry and Meghan, they can't handle it, and they spin out faster and harder. But Charles has a tendency to go rogue and do his own thing every once in awhile, and when he does that, it feeds into Harry and Meghan and gives them the engagement they want.

Camilla, I think, straddles the fence. Sometimes it feels like she's doing what the advisors advise because at the end of the day, it's her husband and she wants him to be happy and having his wayward son back is probably what he wants. But other times it feels like her own smarts are guiding her interactions (or lack thereof) because Camilla understands self-preservation better than most after what she's been through.

I feel like Sophie and Edward fall in the "strong advisors" camp but I just don't know a whole lot about them personally. I think Sophie's background in PR (before she married in) helped her and Edward navigate some tricky situations so I feel like because she has that background in PR, she's fully aware of how important it is to listen to advisors because she used to be the advisor.

Most of the Yorkies are probably in the "strong advisors" camp but they're not usually listening. Edo is definitely in the "naturally cautious/smart" camp with William and I think he's brought Bea onto that side now as well, or he's at least serving as Bea's advisor and it's worked well for her.

I do think each and every one of them are all so over Meghan, especially after how she and Harry made The Queen's and Prince Philip's funerals about them. No one wants anything to do with her anymore, not even Eugenie, to the point where she's being very obviously "NFI'd" from events involving the royal family. Like the Westminster wedding - it's a pretty clear sign where the Sussexes stand that they weren't even invited, despite the PR claiming they graciously turned the invitation down so Charles and William could attend instead.

(Because let's be real. When has Meghan ever put someone else first before herself?)

[hatari-translations]

If a book is translated into Icelandic, would the names of characters be Icelandisized? For example, would a character go from being called Peter to Pétur or would it remain as Peter?

It depends on the book. Books aimed at younger children will generally localize names. Books set in a fictional universe are more likely to localize than books set in actual real-world countries. Older translations are also more likely to localize than newer ones.

Back in the seventies when Star Wars came out, the characters got localized names: Luke Skywalker is Logi Geimgengill, Darth Vader is Svarthöfði. We owned the translated novelization of the first movie, which went harder on it than I think the actual subtitles did; Han Solo there was rendered as Hans Óli, which doesn’t have nearly the same effect because those are just two super mundane normal names put together like he’s the annoying kid in your class and not a lovable space rogue, but I’m pretty sure at least in the 1997 theatrical releases that I watched they wisely kept him as Han Solo but retained Logi Geimgengill and Svarthöfði. I never read the novelization myself, but I recall my brother doing so and complaining that everyone having mundane Icelandic names felt really dumb.

The Narnia books are about kids from real-life England, but mostly happen in a fantasy world, and are children’s books, and were translated a while ago; the Pevensies are called Pétur, Súsanna, Játvarður and Lúsía (Játvarður sounds like the odd one out there; it’s the usual Icelandicization of Edward).

Meanwhile, the Harry Potter books wholly take place in real-life Britain and are also more recent, and most everyone kept their names there, though animal names and such were translated. (The “I am Lord Voldemort” anagram meant Tom Marvolo Riddle turned into Trevor Delgome (Eg er Voldemort), which I’m sure caused the translator no end of headaches when Marvolo and Riddle both became important.)

[luminiera-merge]

the star trek discovery episode with harry mudd (magic to make the sanest man go mad) was an amazing episode but god it kinda recontextualises harry mudd in a really funny way if you think about it. like in the original series he's kinda just a notorious scammer, and yet in discovery he does. all that.

so if you've seen discovery and you move onto tos it's so fucking funny bc it's like aw look at this lovable little rogue! :D isn't he so sneaky :D (his kill count is somewhere in the thousands)

[darkskyemedia]

Breiterman 

Shattered Glass Shatters Truth about Rogue Journalist 

“There’s so many show-offs in journalism.” Well, yeah. But there’s also a lot of those in the film. And even though I don’t think Shattered Glass is a show-off of a movie, it does show off the skills of director (and writer) Billy Ray and many other people from both the cast and the production side. 

Shattered Glass tells the true (although somewhat dramatized) story of Stephen Glass, a Journalist from the 1990s who was well respected at The New Republic Magazine, which was known as the “in-flight magazine for Air Force One” until he was caught fabricating stories as well as source material for those stories. The story follows Glass (portrayed by none other than Hayden Christensen) as he shows off his writing and then is ascertained as a fraud and then begins a spiral downward filled with lies, whining, and a lot of the same questions that are repeated way too many times throughout the film “ARE YOU MAD AT ME?” 

The acting and casting of the film were surprisingly great. Christensen, who is widely known for portraying Anikin Skywalker in the Star Wars Franchise Prequels from 1999-2005, was the best candidate for this character. The high-pitched-ness of his voice, the weird thing where he breathes in between words and then almost lightly smacks his lips in between; agghhhh. Christensen is the best actor to play such an annoying and unlikable dude. The idea of Glass was that he was young, cute, and completely lovable. 

Christensen was as young as he was, with his curly hair and glasses, which were just a little too big for his face. mwaa Chef's kiss. He embodies innocentness. There's a more common saying in the U.K. than here in the U.S., but it's too sweet to be savory. This is about those people you know are entirely fake people who are just unnerving to be around because of how outwardly nice their demeanor is, like Delorous Umbridge from the Harry Potter book and movie series. In this case, she and Glass are so lovely and sweet that it's almost suspicious, and I think Christensen just nailed that because of his history playing in Star Wars. Other significant roles, such as Chuck Lane (played by Peter Sarsgaard), were tremendous and demanding but not evil, as a boss should be. The almost father figure-like editor Michael Kelly (portrayed by Hank Azaria) and all of the leading ladies, Catlin Avey (Played by Chloë Sevigny), Andy Fox (portrayed by Rosario Dawson), and Amy Brand (played by Melanie Lynskey), all fit their characters' roles, purposes, and characteristics perfectly. The incredible casting of casting director Cassandra Kulukundis made the feature what it was. The film wouldn't have hit the way it does without each person being appropriately portrayed. The emotions evoked by each are crucial for the plot and for the audience to get the most out of it. 

The physical production, design, art, set direction, and costuming were all on point. I think the most noticeable instance of this is in the 2 newsrooms that are shown; one from The New Republic and the other from Forbes. I have only ever been in two newsrooms at this point (primarily due to the amount of work and writing is online/electronic now), one for NJ.com and another for a media company I was interning at last year. After seeing those and then this in comparison, I have to say job well done to François Sénécal(Set Director), Pierre Perrault (Art Director), and François Séguin (Production Design). In addition to looking like a newsroom, the 90s setting was on point. There were landlines, pagers, and rolodexes. They had those giant PCs with square backs and were as heavy as hippos, even the phones. Hand-held landlines with antennas and the keyboards for the computers were those big old ones where the keys were so deep they made Marianna's Trench look like a pothole. Perfection. There were yellow pages, and the typing done on the computers had that ugly original font and that gross blue background. People were using YAHOO to search for things and AOL to email people. I cannot go on enough about it. Though I'm sure everyone working on the feature was around in the 90s, it may not be that big of a deal for them to remember. Still, for the audience, it really does transport you back to the 90s. 

The music department also did their job well. The music is driving, curious, and just the thing that the film needed, but what really is impressive are the moments without any music. To make tense lines even more potent, Supervising Sound Director David Bach ensured there was nothing but dead silence behind the yelling and crying. “I think I’ll have to kill myself,” ‘What the hell did you do to Steve?” and “Stop fucking apologizing” are lines that are just left to stew in the anger and awkwardness that brought them to where they are. This also applies to more lighthearted moments, though. The amount of narration done by Christensen and the seemingly wise journalist advice he provides, such as “I think it’s the people you find. Their quirks, their flaws. What makes them funny, what makes them human. Journalism is just the art of capturing behavior. You have to know who you’re writing for, and you have to know what you’re good at. I record what people do. I find out what moves them, what scares them. And I write that down. That way, they’re the ones telling the story,” with the uplifting and motivational music behind it, are sheer golden words that stick with you. 

Though biopics and other truer movies often don’t have themes like fictional ones, I think there are important lessons here. Lessons like doing the right thing are hard sometimes, or sometimes you need to look deeper, maybe not trusting everybody who has a smile on their face, are all valid points that are brought up in the film. And though the movie is way more dramatic than the actual life events that inspired it, those lessons that come through are ones that the audience and journalists should be aware of. 

There aren’t a lot of issues I take with the film other than the possible rating issue and the gratingness of the whole thing. There is a lot of cursing, and as the resident pottymouth of my class, home, and friend group, I should know. I do think PG-13 is appropriate overall, but if you’re a parent or an older sibling or just an adult in charge of a youngling, maybe don’t take them to this if you’re not okay with them repeating the F-word all the way home. It’s not a perfect piece, but I think that’s okay. I think it’s a biopic, so the truth of it is supposed to shine through more than the art aspect. The cinematography could have been better, and sometimes I didn’t care about certain things happening at a particular moment, and after a while, the constant whining and repetition of annoying toddler-like quotes from Glass, such as “I didn’t do anything wrong” gets old and a little headache-inducing. But as the movie is only 94 minutes long, it’s not that big of a deal. 

For those who like biopics, or journalistic stories such as Spotlight (2006), All the President’s Men (1975) and/or The Help (2015), this is definitely the movie for you. 

“There’s so many show-offs in journalism.” There are also a lot of show-off movies. Shattered Glass shows off plenty of great aspects that audiences, especially those who were around in the 90s and remember this historical event, should see. 

[tomorrowedblog]

Friday Releases for March 1

Friday is the busiest day of the week for new releases, so we've decided to collect them all in one place. Friday Releases for March 1 include Dune: Part Two, Spaceman, Problemista, and more.

Dune: Part Two

Dune: Part Two, the new movie from Denis Villeneuve, is out today.

“Dune: Part Two” will explore the mythic journey of Paul Atreides as he unites with Chani and the Fremen while on a warpath of revenge against the conspirators who destroyed his family. Facing a choice between the love of his life and the fate of the known universe, he endeavors to prevent a terrible future only he can foresee.

Spaceman

Spaceman, the new movie from Johan Renck, is out today.

An astronaut realizes that the marriage he left behind might not be waiting for him when he returns to Earth. Desperate to fix things with his wife, he is helped by a mysterious ancient creature he finds hiding in the bowels of his ship.

Problemista

Problemista, the new movie from Julio Torres, is out today.

Alejandro is an aspiring toy designer from El Salvador, struggling to bring his unusual ideas to life in New York City. As time on his work visa runs out, a job assisting an erratic art-world outcast becomes his only hope to stay in the country and realize his dream.

Amelia’s Children

Amelia’s Children, the new movie from Gabriel Abrantes, is out today.

When Edward’s search for his biological family leads him and his girlfriend Ryley to a magnificent villa high in the mountains of Northern Portugal, he is full of excitement at meeting his long-lost mother and twin brother. Finally, he will discover who he is and where he comes from. But nothing is as it seems, and Edward will soon learn that he is linked to them by a monstrous secret.

The Competely Made-Up Adventures Of Dick Turpin

The Competely Made-Up Adventures Of Dick Turpin, the new TV series from Claire Downes, Ian Jarvis, and Stuart Lane, is out today.

In “The Completely Made-Up Adventures of Dick Turpin,” Dick Turpin (Noel Fielding) sets out on a journey of wildly absurd escapades when he’s made the reluctant leader of a band of outlaws — and tasked with outwitting corrupt lawman and self-appointed thief-taker Jonathan Wilde (Hugh Bonneville). In this irreverent retelling set in the 18th century, Turpin is the most famous but least likely of highway robbers, whose success is defined mostly by his charm, showmanship and great hair. Together with his gang of lovable rogues, Turpin rides the highs and lows of his new endeavors, including a brush with celebrity, all whilst trying to escape the clutches of the thief-taker.

BMF S3

The third season of BMF, the TV series from Randy Huggins, is out today.

“BMF” continues the storyline of the inspiring true legends of brothers Demetrius “Big Meech” Flenory (Demetrius Flenory, Jr.) and Terry “Southwest T” Flenory (Da’Vinchi), who fostered one of the most influential crime families in the country known as, Black Mafia Family. We parachute into the early 90s in Season 3 with Meech moving to Atlanta, where he hopes to build upon the BMF empire in the south that he and Terry fostered in Detroit and rise to the top of the Atlanta drug scene. At the same time, Terry remains in the “D” to handle business. Charles Flenory (Russell Hornsby) and Lucille Flenory’s (Michole Briana White) marriage remains on the rocks, and Detective Bryant (Steve Harris) and Detective Jin (Kelly Hu) return as partners often on opposite sides of the law who find common ground in their determination to take down BMF.

Cricket Through The Ages

Cricket Through The Ages, the new game from Free Lives and Devolver Digital, is out today.

Swing bats and throw balls through the intertwined histories of humankind and cricket in this one button, physics-driven game.

BLUE LIPS

BLUE LIPS, the new album from ScHoolboy Q, is out today.

[phoebe-delia]

Who is your favourite character, and why?

Hey Jet! I started class today so I'm happy to find a break in my day to properly answer this question.

I love pretty much all the characters. If you'd have asked me as a child, I'd have said it was Hermione. Last year, I'd have probably said Draco or Harry, and while I still love all three of those characters, I have to say that Luna Lovegood is my favorite.

Most people, both fictional characters and real fans, tend to write Luna off as a lovable, quirky, saintlike girl who talks nonsense and smiles and offers wisdom when needed.

But Luna is, in my opinion, one of the most interesting and probably the most admirable character in the whole series. Her strength comes from her resilience and kindness; she doesn't see being sweet as a weakness, and she genuinely doesn't care if people think she's odd. She is entirely her own person, and rather than have an aggressive, I-Don't-Give-A-Fuck attitude about her independence, she genuinely is content to follow her heart and her passion.

Luna has been through pain and loss. Her mother died when she was young, and she was raised by her father. She was bullied, mocked, and underestimated, even belittled by people like Hermione. Yet, she showed kindness to everyone; not out of naivety, but because there was some deep truth, some insecurity or redemptive quality, she saw in every single person that no one else could, including themselves.

Luna isn't weak. She might not be as powerful as Harry or Snape or Dumbledore or Snakeface Von Clownstick, but she has more ability to see and understand the different realms/layers of magic than almost anyone. We learn that to cast the most powerful spells, whether Light or Dark, you need to feel it, right? You have to mean it. What does it say about Luna that she recognizes parts of magic that no one else does?

I got to explore Luna in my series Little Red, in which I wrote her as a rogue who hunts down Neo Death Eaters. The series explores her steadfast belief in justice, in magic, and herself. I loved getting to see this side of her that sees the world a little more cynically and takes it upon herself to make things right again.

I don't think Luna is blind to the world's flaws. But I think she just has more empathy and capacity for hope and forgiveness than pretty much any other character.

She's my favorite, and I admire her a lot.

What's yours, Jet?

Send me an ask about fanfic, Harry Potter, broadway/musicals, The West Wing, and/or Taylor Swift! Or just about life in general :).

Also, I have a playlist of my 99 most listened-to songs of the year so far. Pick a number 1--99 and send me an ask and I'll write you a fic based on it!

[popanalysis99]

Characters who suffered the worst development.

You know there are a lot of characters who develop for the better, whether a submissive character turns into a mother effing badass or they turn from a hero to a villain like Walter White from Breaking Bad or villain to a hero like Loki in the MCU. 

But there are some characters who ended up suffering the worst development overtime. Whether they turn into outright jerks or wimps.

Here are the characters who had the worst development and deserved way better.

Eric Foreman - That 70′s Show

Eric was the protagonist of the series where he was portrayed as a sensible and smart guy of the group. He loved Donna so much and was constantly berated by his father Red and he always tried his best to be better at things. But as the series progresses he ended up becoming a lazy buffoon and a bit of a jerk as he ended up taking a gap year from college and did a lot of random things and wasn’t that good to Donna as he ran out on her on their wedding day because he had cold feet all the while Donna ended up sacrificing her college to stay with him and when he decided to be a teacher in Africa, he broke up with Donna over the phone because “they were going on different paths”. What a tool. 

Rory Gilmore - Gilmore Girls

Rory started off as a young smart girl who is hard-working in her studies and dreams to go to Yale one day. However as the series progressed, she ended up doing a lot of reckless actions like stealing a boat and decided to give up and drop out of Yale just because some asshole said to her she will never be a journalist. Even worse she ended up forcing an already married Dean into having an affair with her and once she finally stood up and become independent and pursue her dreams of becoming a journalist, it was revealed she was unemployed the whole time, like why?

Peter Parker - Sam Raimi’s Spiderman Trilogy

Oh oh where to start with this one? Peter Parker in this version first started off as a timid nice guy who wanted to use his spidey powers for good as Spiderman and was traumatised due to the death of his uncle Ben. Later he ends up being possessed by a symbiote which results in him being more aggressive. While at first it was so cool seeing him stand up to Harry and Eddie for their misdeeds, he ended up being a f***ing arrogant bitch who was so egotistical and was shitty to everyone around him, including Gwen and Mary Jane and kept on playing the victim card to get what he wants. And what the hell was “Emo Peter”?

Darlene Alderson and Dominique Dipierro - Mr. Robot

For Domlene fans, keep in mind, I am not slandering their relationship or their own episode “Gone” where they got good endings by finding themselves and what they need to work on. But I gotta be honest about how their characters went before that episode throughout Season 4. Both Darlene and Dom started off as badass characters in their own right. The former was a foul mouthed no nonsense lovable rogue and the latter was an assertive and smart FBI agent assigned to solve the 5/9 hack by fsociety. In Season 3 they were shown to be dealing with a lot of issues at hand and tried to push through it. And when they find they had something in common, their relationship began to slowly flourish, but come the season 3 finale which did a complete 180 on them thanks to the Dark Army. In Season 4, Darlene ended up becoming their Damsel in Distress constantly where she keeps on getting captured or have a hit put out on her in order to get to Elliot and rely on him and Dom to save her and Dom ended up becoming a weak and submissive doormat for them after she got forced into being their mole (though it was pretty cool when she killed that asshole taxidermist). All I am saying is, yes, badass women can be vulnerable and stressed out but do it in a proper way where they don’t become damsels without fighting back (Darlene) or make them a doormat for the majority of the season (Dom).

Dexter Morgan - Dexter

Dexter Morgan is a serial killer who has a Dark Passenger bloodlust that makes him go after the scumbags who got away with their crimes. As the series progressed Dexter figured out that he may have been able to feel things, especially love for Rita, Debra and Harrison and stress when things are not going his way. But time and time again he ended being a bit to reckless and selfish in his actions and ended up having an unwanted romantic arc with Hannah McKay and dragged Debra down with him in his serial killer life, which resulted in her killing LaGuerta to cover up her brother’s misdeeds and later dying from a gunshot wound at the hands of Oliver Saxon. This later caused Dexter to abandon Hannah and Harrison and hide out in Oregon to become a lumberjack! Hallelujah for the reboot.

Cordelia Chase - Buffyverse

That one development which angered the Buffy fans. Cordelia Chase was one of the lead female characters of Buffy The Vampire Slayer and the female lead of the spin-off Angel. She was shown to be a confident and badass woman who at first was the queen bee but turned to a tough warrior in her own right. Sadly, due to J*ss Wh*don giving Charisma Carpenter a huge disproportionate retribution for getting pregnant, Cordelia was given a lot of horrible storylines. Like being sent to heaven and then returning to earth as a different person when she sleeps with her own teen son and does a lot of bizzare things and ultimately she is put in a coma off-screen. A true definition of wasting such a great character.

Ross and Monica Geller - Friends

Ross and Monica are siblings who are a bit competitive but still care about each other. Both of them had started off normal with their individual personalities. Ross being a paleontologist who just got out of a divorce and tries to pick himself back up and Monica is a perfectionist who is pressured to make things in control around her, possibly due to her mother making snide remarks at her in the past. But as the series progressed, both ended up getting flanderized in different ways. Ross ended up being too controlling of the women he dates and later his sad sack tendencies ended up playing up to 11 which made him look like a parody of himself and Monica went from a caring Team Mom to an outright competitive Alpha Bitch who had the need to control and compete at everything for the evulz. Like when she was Phoebe’s wedding planner, she went full on Chris Hargensen on her by organising things the way she wants it and not Phoebe’s, which frustated the latter to the point she rightfully fired her. But Monica was left so scorned that she decided to rain down hell upon Phoebe and humiliate her.

Daenerys Targaryen - Game Of Thrones

Finally we are here. Daenerys was a really badass character in Game of Thrones. She at first was a slave for her abusive older brother but then stood her ground and ended up becoming a fearless leader who wanted to save Westeros and protect it from the evil villains. She was kind to almost everyone and helped others around her. Not only that but she served as an inspiration for a lot of women and girls in real life. Sadly, Season 8 had drained her whole character down the toilet when she was put through a lot of trauma and losses which resulted in her snapping and burning down the entire King’s Landing which killed innocents and planned on taking control of Westeros with tyranny in mind. This eventually caused Jon to kill her in a really anti-climatic manner. This was a horrible example of putting a character through huge amounts of trauma and making them evil out of nowhere. She was not Arthur Fleck, y’all.

[grigori77]

2020 in Movies - My Top 30 Fave Movies (Part 3)

10.  WOLFWALKERS – eleven years ago, Irish director Tomm Moore exploded onto the animated cinema scene with The Secret of Kells, a spellbinding feature debut which captivated audiences the world over and even garnered an Oscar nomination.  Admittedly I didn’t actually even know about it until I discovered his work through his astonishing follow-up, Song of the Sea (another Academy Award nominee), in 2015, so when I finally caught it I was already a fan of Moore’s work.  It’s been a similarly long wait for his third feature, but he’s genuinely pulled off a hat-trick, delivering a third flawless film in a row which OF COURSE means that his latest feature is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, my top animated feature of 2020.  I could even be tempted to say it’s his best work to date … this is an ASTONISHING film, a work of such breath-taking, spell-binding beauty that I spent its entire hour and three-quarters glued to the screen, simple mesmerised by the wonder and majesty of this latest iteration of the characteristically stylised “Cartoon Saloon” look.  It’s also liberally steeped in Moore’s trademark Celtic vibe and atmosphere, once again delving deep into his homeland’s rich and evocative cultural history and mythology while also bringing us something far more original and personal – this time the titular supernatural beings are magical near-human beings whose own subconscious can assume the form of very real wolves.  Set in a particularly dark time in Irish history – namely 1650, when Oliver Cromwell was Lord Protector – the story follows Robyn (Honor Kneafsey, probably best known for the Christmas Prince films), the impetuous and spirited young daughter of English hunter Bill Goodfellowe (Sean Bean), brought in by the Protectorate to rid the city of Kilkenny of the wolves plaguing the area.  One day fate intervenes and Robyn meets Mebh Og MacTire (The Girl at the End of the Garden‘s Eve Whittaker), a wild girl living in the woods, whose accidental bite gives her strange dreams in which she becomes a wolf – turns out Mebh is a wolfwalker, and now so is Robyn … every aspect of this film is an utter triumph for Moore and co, who have crafted a work of living, breathing cinematic art that’s easily the equal to (if not even better than) the best that Disney, Dreamworks or any of the other animation studios could create.  Then there’s the excellent voice cast – Bean brings fatherly warmth and compassion to the role that belies his character’s intimidating size, while Kneafsey and Whittaker make for a sweet and sassy pair as they bond in spite of powerful cultural differences, and the masterful Simon McBurney (Harry Potter, Mission: Impossible – Rogue Nation, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy) brings cool, understated menace to the role of Cromwell himself.  This is a film with plenty of emotional heft to go with its marvels, and once again displays the welcome dark side which added particular spice to Moore’s previous films, but ultimately this is still a gentle and heartfelt work of wonder that makes for equally suitable viewing for children as for those who are still kids at heart – ultimately, then, this is another triumph for one of the most singularly original filmmakers working in animation today, and if Wolfwalkers doesn’t make it third time lucky come Oscars-time then there’s no justice in the world …

9.  WONDER WOMAN 1984 – probably the biggest change for 2020 compared to pretty much all of the past decade is how different the fortunes of superhero cinema turned out to be.  A year earlier the Marvel Cinematic Universe had dominated all, but the DC Extended Universe still got a good hit in with big surprise hit Shazam!  Fast-forward to now and things are VERY different – DC suddenly came out in the lead, but only because Marvel’s intended heavy-hitters (two MCU movies, the first Venom sequel and potential hot-shit new franchise starter Morbius: the Living Vampire) found themselves continuously pushed back thanks to (back then) unforeseen circumstances which continue to shit all over our theatre-going slate for the immediate future.  In the end DC’s only SERIOUS competition turned out to be NETFLIX … never mind, at least we got ONE big established superhero blockbuster into the cinemas before the end of the year that the whole family could enjoy, and who better to headline it than DC’s “newest” big screen megastar, Diana Prince? Back in 2017 Monster’s Ball director Patty Jenkins’ monumental DCEU standalone spectacularly realigned the trajectory of a cinematic franchise that was visibly flagging, redesigning the template for the series’ future which has since led to some (mostly) consistently impressive subsequent offerings.  Needless to say it was a damn tough act to follow, but Jenkins and co-writers Geoff Johns (Arrow and The Flash) and David Callaham (The Expendables, Zombieland: Double Tap, future MCU entry Shang-Chi & the Legend of the Ten Rings) have risen to the challenge in fine style, delivering something which pretty much equals that spectacular franchise debut … as has Gal Gadot, who’s now OFFICIALLY made the role her own thanks to yet another showstopping and definitive performance as the unstoppable Amazonian goddess living amongst us.  She’s older and wiser than in the first film, but still hasn’t lost that forthright honesty and wonderfully pure heart we’ve come to love ever since her introduction in Zack Snyder’s troublesome but ultimately underrated Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice (yes, that’s right, I said it!), and Gadot’s clear, overwhelming commitment to the role continues to pay off magnificently as she once again proves that Diana is THE VERY BEST superhero in the DCEU cinematic pantheon.  Although it takes place several decades after its predecessor, WW84 is, obviously, still very much a period piece, Jenkins and co this time perfectly capturing the sheer opulent and over-the-top tastelessness of the 1980s in all its big-haired, bad-suited, oversized shoulder-padded glory while telling a story that encapsulates the greedy excessiveness of the Reagan era, perfectly embodied in the film’s nominal villain, Max Lord (The Mandalorian himself, Pedro Pascal), a wishy-washy wannabe oil tycoon conman who chances upon a supercharged wish-rock and unleashes a devastating supernatural “monkey’s paw” upon the world. To say any more would give away a whole raft of spectacular twists and turns that deserve to be enjoyed good and cold, although they did spoil one major surprise in the trailer when they teased the return of Diana’s first love, Steve Trevor (Chris Pine) … needless to say this is another big blockbuster bursting with big characters, big action and BIG IDEAS, just what we’ve come to expect after Wonder Woman’s first triumphant big screen adventure.  Interestingly, the film starts out feeling like it’s going to be a bubbly, light, frothy affair – after a particularly stunning all-action opening flashback to Diana’s childhood on Themyscira, the film proper kicks off with a bright and breezy atmosphere that feels a bit like the kind of Saturday morning cartoon action the consistently impressive set-pieces take such unfettered joy in parodying, but as the stakes are raised the tone grows darker and more emotionally potent, the storm clouds gathering for a spectacularly epic climax that, for once, doesn’t feel too overblown or weighed down by its visual effects, while the intelligent script has unfathomable hidden depths to it, making us think far more than these kinds of blockbusters usually do.  It’s really great to see Chris Pine return since he was one of the best things about the first movie, and his lovably childlike wide-eyed wonder at this brave new world perfectly echoes Diana’s own last time round; Kristen Wiig, meanwhile, is pretty phenomenal throughout as Dr Barbara Minerva, the initially geeky and timid nerd who discovers an impressive inner strength but ultimately turns into a superpowered apex predator as she becomes one of Wonder Woman’s most infamous foes, the Cheetah; Pascal, of course, is clearly having the time of his life hamming it up to the hilt as Lord, playing gloriously against his effortlessly cool, charismatic action hero image to deliver a compellingly troubling examination of the monstrous corrupting influence of absolute power.  Once again, though, the film truly belongs to Gadot – she looks amazing, acts her socks off magnificently, and totally rules the movie.  After this, a second sequel is a no-brainer, because Wonder Woman remains the one DC superhero who’s truly capable of bearing the weight of this particular cinematic franchise on her powerful shoulders – needless to say, it’s already been greenlit, and with both Jenkins and Gadot onboard, I’m happy to sign up for more too …

8.  LOVE & MONSTERS – with the cinemas continuing their frustrating habit of opening for a little while and then closing while the pandemic ebbed and flowed in the months after the summer season, it was starting to look like there might not have been ANY big budget blockbusters to enjoy before year’s end as heavyweights like Black Widow, No Time To Die and Dune pulled back to potentially more certain release slots into 2021 (with only WW84 remaining stubbornly in place for Christmas).  Then Paramount decided to throw us a bone, opting to release this post-apocalyptic horror comedy on-demand in October instead, thus giving me the perfect little present to tie me over during the darkening days of autumn. The end result was a stone-cold gem that came out of nowhere to completely blow critics away, a spectacular sleeper hit that ultimately proved one of the year’s biggest and most brilliant surprises.  Director Michael Matthews may only have had South African indie thriller Five Fingers for Marseilles under his belt prior to this, but he proves he’s definitely a solid talent to watch in the future, crafting a fun and effective thrill-ride that, like all the best horror comedies, is consistently as funny as it is scary, sharing much of the same DNA as this particular mash-up genre’s classics like Tremors and Zombieland and standing up impressively well to such comparisons.  The story, penned by rising star Brian Duffield (who has TWO other entries on this list, Underwater and Spontaneous) and Matthew Robinson (The Invention of Lying, Dora & the Lost City of Gold), is also pretty ingenious and surprisingly original – a meteorite strike has unleashed weird mutagenic pathogens that warp various creepy crawly critters into gigantic monstrosities that have slaughter most of the world’s human population, leaving only a beleaguered, dwindling few to eke out a precarious living in underground colonies. Living in one such makeshift community is Joel Dawson (The Maze Runner’s Dylan O’Brien), a smart and likeable geek who really isn’t very adventurous, is extremely awkward and uncoordinated, and has a problem with freezing if threatened … which makes it all the more inexplicable when he decides, entirely against the advice of everyone he knows, to venture onto the surface so he can make the incredibly dangerous week-long trek to the neighbouring colony where his girlfriend Aimee (Iron Fist’s Jessica Henwick) has ended up.  Joel is, without a doubt, the best role that O’Brien has EVER had, a total dork who’s completely unsuited to this kind of adventure and, in the real world, sure to be eaten alive in the first five minutes, but he’s also such a fantastically believable, fallible everyman that every one of us desperate, pathetic omega-males and females can instantly put ourselves in his place, making it elementarily easy to root for him.  He’s also hilariously funny, his winningly self-deprecating sass and pitch perfect talent for physical comedy making it all the more rewarding watching each gloriously anarchic life-and-death encounter mould him into the year’s most unlikely action hero.  Henwick, meanwhile, once again impresses in a well-written role where she’s able to make a big impression despite her decidedly short screen time, as do the legendary Michael Rooker and brilliant newcomer Ariana Greenblatt as Clyde and Minnow, the adorably jaded, seen-it-all-before pair of “professional survivors” Joel meets en-route, who teach him to survive on the surface.  The action is fast, frenetic and potently visceral, the impressively realistic digital creature effects bringing a motley crew of bloodthirsty beasties to suitably blood-curdling life for the film’s consistently terrifying set-pieces, while the world-building is intricately thought-out and skilfully executed.  Altogether, this was an absolute joy from start to finish, and a film I enthusiastically endorsed to everyone I knew was looking for something fun to enjoy during the frustrating lockdown nights-in.  One of the cinematic year’s best kept secrets then, and a compelling sign of things to come for its up-and-coming director.

7.  PARASITE – I’ve been a fan of master Korean filmmaker Bong Joon-ho ever since I stumbled across his deeply weird but also thoroughly brilliant breakthrough feature The Host, and it’s a love that’s deepened since thanks to truly magnificent sci-fi actioner Snowpiercer, so I was looking forward to his latest feature as much as any movie geek, but even I wasn’t prepared for just what a runaway juggernaut of a hit this one turned out to be, from the insane box office to all that award-season glory (especially that undeniable clean-sweep at the Oscars). I’ll just come out and say it, this film deserves it all.  It’s EASILY Bong’s best film to date (which is really saying something), a masterful social satire and jet black comedy that raises some genuinely intriguing questions before delivering deeply troubling answers.  Straddling the ever-widening gulf between a disaffected idle rich upper class and impoverished, struggling lower class in modern-day Seoul, it tells the story of the Kim family – father Ki-taek (Bong’s good luck charm, Song Kang-ho), mother Chung-sook (Jang Hye-jin), son Ki-woo (Train to Busan’s Choi Woo-shik) and daughter Ki-jung (The Silenced’s Park So-dam) – a poor family living in a run-down basement apartment who live hand-to-mouth in minimum wage jobs and can barely rub two pennies together, until they’re presented with an intriguing opportunity.  Through happy chance, Ki-woon is hired as an English tutor for Park Da-hye (Jung Ji-so), the daughter of a wealthy family, which offers him the chance to recommend Ki-jung as an art tutor to the Parks’ troubled young son, Da-song (Jung Hyeon-jun). Soon the rest of the Kims are getting in on the act, the kids contriving opportunities for their father to replace Mr Park’s chauffeur and their mother to oust the family’s long-serving housekeeper, Gook Moon-gwang (Lee Jung-eun), and before long their situation has improved dramatically.  But as they two families become more deeply entwined, cracks begin to show in their supposed blissful harmony as the natural prejudices of their respective classes start to take hold, and as events spiral out of control a terrible confrontation looms on the horizon.  This is social commentary at its most scathing, Bong drawing on personal experiences from his youth to inform the razor-sharp script (co-written by his production assistant Han Jin-won), while he weaves a palpable atmosphere of knife-edged tension throughout to add spice to the perfectly observed dark humour of the situation, all the while throwing intriguing twists and turns at us before suddenly dropping such a massive jaw-dropper of a gear-change that the film completely turns on its head to stunning effect.  The cast are all thoroughly astounding, Song once again dominating the film with a turn at once sloppy and dishevelled but also poignant and heartfelt, while there are particularly noteworthy turns from Lee Sun-kyun as the Parks’ self-absorbed patriarch Dong-ik and Choi Yeo-jeong (The Concubine) as his flighty, easily-led wife Choi Yeon-gyo, as well as a fantastically weird appearance in the latter half from Park Myung-hoon.  This is heady stuff, dangerously seductive even as it becomes increasingly uncomfortable viewing, so that even as the screws tighten and everything goes to hell it’s simply impossible to look away.  Bong Joon-ho really has surpassed himself this time, delivering an existential mind-scrambler that lingers long after the credits have rolled and might even have you questioning your place in society once you’ve thought about it some. It deserves every single award and every ounce of praise it’s been lavished with, and looks set to go down as one of the true cinematic greats of this new decade.  Trust me, if this was a purely critical best-of list it’d be RIGHT AT THE TOP …

6.  THE OLD GUARD – Netflix’ undisputable TOP OFFERING of the summer came damn close to bagging the whole season, and I can’t help thinking that even if some of the stiffer competition had still been present it may well have still finished this high. Gina Prince-Blythewood (Love & Basketball, the Secret Life of Bees) directs comics legend Greg Rucka’s adaptation of his own popular series with uncanny skill and laser-focused visual flair considering there’s nothing on her previous CV to suggest she’d be THIS good at mounting a stomping great ultraviolent action thriller, ushering in a thoroughly engrossing tale of four ancient, invulnerable immortal warriors – Andy AKA Andromache of Scythia (Charlize Theron), Booker AKA Sebastian de Livre (Matthias Schoenaerts), Joe AKA Yusuf Al-Kaysani (Wolf’s Marwan Kenzari) and Nicky AKA Niccolo di Ginova (Trust’s Luca Marinelli) – who’ve been around forever, hiring out their services as mercenaries for righteous causes while jealously guarding their identities for fear of horrific experimentation and exploitation should their true natures ever be discovered.  Their anonymity is threatened, however, when they’re uncovered by former CIA operative James Copley (Chiwetel Ejiofor), who’s working for the decidedly dodgy pharmaceutical conglomerate run by sociopathic billionaire Steven Merrick (Harry Melling, formerly Dudley in the Harry Potter movies), who want to capture these immortals so they can patent whatever it is that makes them keep on ticking … just as a fifth immortal, US Marine Nile Freeman (If Beale Street Could Talk’s KiKi Layne), awakens after being “killed” on deployment in Afghanistan.  The supporting players are excellent, particularly Ejiofor, smart and driven but ultimately principled and deeply conflicted about what he’s doing, even if he does have the best of intentions, and Melling, the kind of loathsome, reptilian scumbag you just love to hate, but the film REALLY DOES belong to the Old Guard themselves – Schoenaerts is a master brooder, spot-on casting as the group’s relative newcomer, only immortal since the Napoleonic Wars but clearly one seriously old soul who’s already VERY tired of the lifestyle, while Joe and Nicky (who met on opposing sides of the Crusades) are simply ADORABLE, an unapologetically matter-of-fact gay couple who are sweet, sassy and incredibly kind, the absolute emotional heart of the film; it’s the ladies, however, that are most memorable here.  Layne is exceptional, investing Nile with a steely intensity that puts her in good stead as her new existence threatens to overwhelm her and MORE THAN qualified to bust heads alongside her elders … but it’s ancient Greek warrior Andy who steals the film, Theron building on the astounding work she did in Atomic Blonde to prove, once and for all, that there’s no woman on Earth who looks better kicking arse than her (as Booker puts it, “that woman has forgotten more ways to kill than entire armies will ever learn”); in her hands, Andy truly is a goddess of death, tough as tungsten alloy and unflappable even in the face of hell itself, but underneath it all she hides a heart as big as any of her friends’.  They’re an impossibly lovable bunch and you feel you could follow them on another TEN adventures like this one, which is just as well, because Prince-Blythewood and Rucka certainly put them through their paces here – the drama is high (but frequently laced with a gentle, knowing sense of humour, particularly whenever Joe and Nicky are onscreen), as are the stakes, and the frequent action sequences are top-notch, executed with rare skill and bone-crunching zest, but also ALWAYS in service to the story.  Altogether this is an astounding film, a genuine victory for its makers and, it seems, for Netflix themselves – it’s become one of the platform’s biggest hits to date, earning well-deserved critical acclaim and great respect and genuine geek love from the fanbase at large.  After this, a sequel is not only inevitable, it’s ESSENTIAL …

5.  MANK – it’s always nice when David Fincher, one of my TOP FIVE ALL TIME FAVOURITE DIRECTORS, drops a new movie, because it can be GUARANTEED to place good and high in my rundown for that year.  The man is a frickin’ GENIUS, a true master of the craft, genuinely one of the auteur’s auteurs.  I’ve NEVER seen him deliver a bad film – even a misfiring Fincher (see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button or Alien 3) is still capable of creating GREAT CINEMA.  How? Why?  It’s because he genuinely LOVES the art form, it’s been his obsession all his life, and he’s spent every day of it becoming the best possible filmmaker he can be.  Who better to tell the story of the creation of one of the ULTIMATE cinematic masterpieces, then?  Benjamin Ross’ acclaimed biopic RKO 281 covered similar ground, presenting a compelling look into the making Citizen Kane, the timeless masterpiece of Hollywood’s ULTIMATE auteur, Orson Welles, but Fincher’s film is more interested in the original inspiration for the story, how it was written and, most importantly, the man who wrote it – Herman J. Mankiewicz, known to his friends as Mank. One of my favourite actors of all time, Gary Oldman, delivers yet another of his career best performances in the lead role, once a man of vision and incredible storytelling skill whose talents have largely been squandered through professional difficulties and personal vices, a burned out one-time great fallen on hard times whom Welles picks up out of the trash, dusts off and offers a chance to create something truly great again.  The only catch?  The subject of their film (albeit dressed up in the guise of fictional newspaper magnate Charles Foster Kane) is to be real-life publisher, politico and tycoon William Randolph Hurst (Charles Dance), once Mank’s friend and patron before they had a very public and messy falling out which partly led to his current circumstances.  As he toils away in seclusion on what is destined to become his true masterwork, flashbacks reveal to us the fascinating, moving and ultimately tragic tale of his rise and fall from grace in the movie business, set against the backdrop of one of the most tumultuous periods in American history.  Shooting a script that his own journalist and screenwriter father, Jack, crafted and then failed to bring to the screen himself before his death in 2003, Fincher has been working for almost a quarter century to make this film, and all that passion and drive is writ large on the screen – this is a glorious film ABOUT film, the art of it, the creation of it, and all the dirty little secrets of what the industry itself has always really been like, especially in that most glamorous and illusory of times.  The fact that Fincher shot in black and white and intentionally made it look like it was made in the early 1940s (the “golden age of the Silver Screen”, if you will) may seem like a gimmick, but instead it’s a very shrewd choice that expertly captures the gloss and moodiness of the age, almost looking like a contemporary companion piece to Kane itself, and it’s the perfect way to frame all the sharp-witted observation, subtly subversive character development and murky behind-the-scenes machinations that tell the story.  Oldman is in every way the star here, holding the screen with all the consummate skill and flair we’ve come to expect from him, but there’s no denying the uniformly excellent supporting cast are equal to the task here – Dance is at his regal, charismatic best as Hearst, while Amanda Seyfried is icily classy on the surface but mischievous and lovably grounded underneath as Hearst’s mistress, Marion Davies, who formed the basis for Kane’s most controversial character, Arliss Howard (Full Metal Jacket, The Lost World: Jurassic Park, Moneyball) brings nuance and complexity to the role of MGM founder Louis B. Mayer, Tom Pelphrey (Banshee, Ozark) is understated but compelling as Mank’s younger screenwriter brother Joseph, and Lily Collins and Tuppence Middleton exude class and long-suffering stubbornness as the two main women in Mank’s life (his secretary and platonic muse, Rita Alexander, and his wife, Sara), while The Musketeers’ Tom Burke’s periodic but potent appearances as Orson Welles help to drive the story in the “present”.  Another Netflix release which I was (thankfully) able to catch on the big screen during one of the brief lulls between British lockdowns, this was a decidedly meta cinematic experience that perfectly encapsulated not only what is truly required for the creation of a screen epic, but also the latest pinnacle in the career of one of the greatest filmmakers working in the business today, powerful, stirring, intriguing and surprising in equal measure. Certainly it’s one of the most important films ABOUT so far film this century, but is it as good as Citizen Kane?  Boy, that’s a tough one …

4.  ENOLA HOLMES – ultimately, my top film for the autumn/winter movie season was also the film which finally topped my Netflix Original features list, as well as beating all other streaming offerings for the entire year (which is saying something, as you should know by now).  Had things been different, this would have been one of Warner Bros’ BIGGEST releases for the year in the cinema, of that I have no doubt, a surprise sleeper hit which would have taken the world by storm – as it is it’s STILL become a sensation, albeit in a much more mid-pandemic, lockdown home-viewing kind of way.  Before you start crying oh God no, not another Sherlock Holmes adaptation, this is a very different beast from either the Guy Ritchie take or the modernized BBC show, instead side-lining the great literary sleuth in favour of a delicious new AU version, based on The Case of the Missing Marquess, the first novel in the Enola Holmes Mysteries literary series from American YA author Nancy Springer.  Positing that Sherlock Holmes (Henry Cavill) and his elder brother Mycroft (Sam Claflin) had an equally ingenious and precocious baby sister, the film introduces us to Enola (Stranger Things’ Millie Bobby Brown), who’s been raised at home by their strong-willed mother Eudoria (Helena Bonham Carter) to be just as intelligent, well-read and intellectually skilled as her far more advantageously masculine elder siblings.  Then, on the morning of her sixteenth birthday, Enola awakens to find her mother has vanished, putting her in a pretty pickle since this leaves her a ward of Mycroft, a self-absorbed social peacock who finds her to be wilfully free-spirited and completely ill equipped to face the world, concluding that the only solution is sending her to boarding school where she’ll learn to become a proper lady.  Needless to say she’s horrified by the prospect, deciding to run away and search for her mother instead … this is about as perfect a family adventure film as you could wish for, following a vital, capable and compelling teen detective-in-the-making as she embarks on her very first investigation, as well as winding up tangled in a second to boot involving a young runaway noble, Viscount Tewkesbury, the Marquess of Basilwether (Medici’s Louis Partridge), and the film is a breezy, swift-paced and rewardingly entertaining romp that feels like a welcome breath of fresh air for a literary property which, beloved as it may be, has been adapted to death over the years.  Enola Holmes a brilliant young hero who’s perfectly crafted to carry the franchise forward in fresh new directions, and Brown brings her to life with effervescent charm, boisterous energy and mischievous irreverence that are entirely irresistible; Cavill and Claflin, meanwhile, are perfectly cast as the two very different brothers – this Sherlock is much less louche and world-weary than most previous versions, still razor sharp and intellectually restless but with a comfortable ease and a youthful spring in his step that perfectly suits the actor, while Mycroft is as superior and arrogant as ever, a preening arse we derive huge enjoyment watching Enola consistently get the best of; Bonham Carter doesn’t get a lot of screen-time but as we’d expect she does a lot with what she has to make the practical, eccentric and unapologetically modern Eudoria thoroughly memorable, while Partridge is carefree and likeable as the naïve but irresistible Tewkesbury, and there are strong supporting turns from Frances de la Tour as his stately grandmother, the Dowager, Susie Wokoma (Crazyhead, Truth Seekers) as Emily, a feisty suffragette who runs a jujitsu studio, Burn Gorman as dastardly thug-for-hire Linthorn, and Four Lions’ Adeel Akhtar as a particularly scuzzy Inspector Lestrade.  Seasoned TV director Harry Bradbeer (Fleabag, Killing Eve) makes his feature debut with an impressive splash, unfolding the action at a brisk pace while keeping the narrative firmly focused on an intricate mystery plot that throws in plenty of ingenious twists and turns before a suitably atmospheric climax and pleasing denouement which nonetheless artfully sets up more to come in the future, while screenwriter Jack Thorne (His Dark Materials, The Scouting Book for Boys, Wonder) delivers strong character work and liberally peppers the dialogue with a veritable cavalcade of witty zingers.  Boisterous, compelling, amusing, affecting and exciting in equal measure, this is a spirited and appealing slice of cinematic escapism that flatters its viewers and never talks down to them, a perfect little period adventure for a cosy Sunday afternoon.  Obviously there’s plenty of potential for more, and with further books to adapt there’s more than enough material for a pile of sequels – Neflix would be barmy indeed to turn their nose up at this opportunity …

3.  1917 – it’s a rare thing for a film to leave me truly shell-shocked by its sheer awesomeness, for me to walk out of a cinema in a genuine daze, unable to talk or even really think about much of anything for a few hours because I’m simply marvelling at what I’ve just witnessed.  Needless to say, when I do find a film like that (Fight Club, Inception, Mad Max: Fury Road) it usually earns a place very close to my heart indeed.  The latest tour-de-force from Sam Mendes is one of those films – an epic World War I thriller that plays out ENTIRELY in one shot, which doesn’t simply feel like a glorified gimmick or stunt but instead is a genuine MASTERPIECE of film, a mesmerising journey of emotion and imagination in a shockingly real environment that’s impossible to tear your eyes away from.  Sure, Mendes has impressed us before – his first film, American Beauty, is a GREAT movie, one of the most impressive feature debuts of the 2000s, while Skyfall is, in my opinion, quite simply THE BEST BOND FILM EVER MADE – but this is in a whole other league.  It’s an astounding achievement, made all the more impressive when you realise that there’s very little trickery at play here, no clever digital magic (just some augmentation here and there), it’s all real locations and sets, filmed in long, elaborately choreographed takes blended together with clever edits to make it as seamless as possible – it’s not the first film to try to do this (remember Birdman? Bushwick?), but I’ve never seen it done better, or with greater skill. But it’s not just a clever cinematic exercise, there’s a genuine story here, told with guts and urgency, and populated by real flesh and blood characters – the heart of the film is True History of the Kelly Gang’s George MacKay and Dean Chapman (probably best known as Tommen Baratheon in Game of Thrones) as Lance Corporals Will Schofield and Tom Blake, the two young tommies sent out across enemy territory on a desperate mission to stop a British regiment from rushing headlong into a German trap (Tom himself has a personal stake in this because his brother is an officer in the attack).  They’re a likeable pair, very human and relatable throughout, brave and true but never so overtly heroic that they stretch credibility, so when tragedy strikes along the way it’s particularly devastating; both deliver exceptional performances that effortlessly carry us through the film, and they’re given sterling support from a selection of top-drawer British talent, from Sherlock stars Andrew Scott and Benedict Cumberbatch to Mark Strong and Colin Firth, each delivering magnificently in small but potent cameos.  That said, the cinematography and art department are the BIGGEST stars here, masterful veteran DOP Roger Deakins (The Shawshank Redemption, Blade Runner 2049 and pretty much the Coen Brothers’ entire back catalogue among MANY others) making every frame sing with beauty, horror, tension or tragedy as the need arises, and the environments are SO REAL it feels less like production design than that someone simply sent the cast and crew back in time to film in the real Northern France circa 1917 – from a nightmarish trek across No Man’s Land to a desperate chase through a ruined French village lit only by dancing flare-light in the darkness before dawn, every scene is utterly immersive and simply STUNNING.  I don’t think it’s possible for Mendes to make a film better than this, but I sure hope he gives it a go all the same.  Either way, this was the most incredible, exhausting, truly AWESOME experience I had at the cinema all year – it’s a film that DESERVES to be seen on the big screen, and I feel truly sorry for those who missed the chance …

2.  BIRDS OF PREY & THE FANTABULOUS EMANCIPATION OF ONE HARLEY QUINN – the only reason 1917 isn’t at number two is because Warner Bros.’ cinematic DC Extended Universe project FINALLY got round to bringing my favourite DC Comics title to the big screen.  It was been the biggest pleasure of my cinematic year getting to see my top DC superheroines brought to life on the big screen, and it was done in high style, in my opinion THE BEST of the DCEU films to date (yup, I loved it EVEN MORE than the Wonder Woman movies).  It was also great seeing Harley Quinn return after her show-stealing turn in David Ayer’s clunky but ultimately still hugely enjoyable Suicide Squad, better still that they got her SPOT ON this time – this is the Harley I’ve always loved in the comics, unpredictable, irreverent and entirely without regard for what anyone else thinks of her, as well as one talented psychiatrist.  Margot Robbie once more excels in the role she was basically BORN to play, clearly relishing the chance to finally do Harley TRUE justice, and she’s a total riot from start to finish, infectiously lovable no matter what crazy, sometimes downright REPRIHENSIBLE antics she gets up to.  Needless to say she’s the nominal star here, her latest ill-advised adventure driving the story – finally done with the Joker and itching to make her emancipation official, Harley publicly announces their breakup by blowing up Ace Chemicals (their love spot, basically), inadvertently painting a target on her back in the process since she’s no longer under the assumed protection of Gotham’s feared Clown Prince of Crime – but that doesn’t mean she eclipses the other main players the movie’s REALLY supposed to be about.  Each member of the Birds of Prey is beautifully written and brought to vivid, arse-kicking life by what had to be 2020’s most exciting cast – Helena Bertinelli, the Huntress, is the perfect character for Mary Elizabeth Winstead to finally pay off on that action hero potential she showed in Scott Pilgrim Vs. the World, but this is a MUCH more enjoyable role outside of the fight choreography because while Helena may be a world-class dark avenger, socially she’s a total dork, which just makes her thoroughly adorable; Rosie Perez is similarly perfect casting as Renee Montoya, the uncompromising pint-sized Gotham PD detective who kicks against the corrupt system no matter what kind of trouble it gets her into, and just gets angrier all the time, paradoxically making us like her even more; and then there’s the film’s major controversy, at least as far as the fans are concerned, namely one Cassandra Cain.  Sure, this take is VERY different from the comics’ version (a nearly mute master assassin who went on to become the second woman to wear the mask of Batgirl before assuming her own crime-fighting mantle as Black Bat and now Orphan), but personally I like to think this is simply Cass at THE VERY START of her origin story, leaving plenty of time for her to discover her warrior origins when the DCEU finally gets around to introducing her mum, Lady Shiva (personally I want Michelle Yeoh to play her, but that’s just me) – anyways, here she’s a skilled child pickpocket whose latest theft inadvertently sets off the larger central plot, and newcomer Ella Jay Basco brings a fantastic pre-teen irreverence and spiky charm to the role, beautifully playing against Robbie’s mercurial energy.  My favourite here BY FAR, however, is Dinah Lance, aka the Black Canary (not only my favourite Bird of Prey but my very favourite DC superheroine PERIOD), the choice of up-and-comer Jurnee Smollet-Bell (Friday Night Lights, Underground) proving to be the film’s most inspired casting – a club singer with the metahuman ability to emit piercing supersonic screams, she’s also a ferocious martial artist (in the comics she’s one of the very best fighters IN THE WORLD), as well as a wonderfully pure soul you just can’t help loving, and it made me SO UNBELIEVABLY HAPPY that they got my Canary EXACTLY RIGHT.  Altogether they’re a fantastic bunch of badass ladies, basically my perfect superhero team, and the way they’re all brought together (along with Harley, of course) is beautifully thought out and perfectly executed … they’ve also got one hell of a threat to overcome, namely Gotham crime boss Roman Sionis, the Black Mask, one of the Joker’s chief rivals – Ewan McGregor brings his A-game in a frustratingly rare villainous turn (my number one bad guy for the movie year), a monstrously narcissistic, woman-hating control freak with a penchant for peeling off the faces of those who displease him, sharing some exquisitely creepy chemistry with Chris Messina (The Mindy Project) as Sionis’ nihilistic lieutenant Victor Zsasz.  This is about as good as superhero cinema gets, a perfect example of the sheer brilliance you get when you switch up the formula to create something new, an ultra-violent, unapologetically R-rated middle finger to the classic tropes, a fantastic black comedy thrill ride that’s got to be the most full-on feminist blockbuster ever made – it’s helmed by a woman (Dead Pigs director Cathy Yan), written by a woman (Bumblebee’s Christina Hodson), produced by more women and ABOUT a bunch of badass women magnificently triumphing over toxic masculinity in all its forms.  It’s also simply BRILLIANT – the cast are all clearly having a blast, the action sequences are first rate (the spectacular GCPD evidence room fight in which Harley gets to REALLY cut loose is the undisputable highlight), it has a gleefully anarchic sense of humour and is simply BURSTING with phenomenal homages, references and in-jokes for the fans (Bruce the hyena! Stuffed beaver! Roller derby!).  It’s also got a killer soundtrack, populated almost exclusively by numbers from female artists.  Altogether, then, this is the VERY BEST the DCEU has to offer to date, and VERY NEARLY my absolute FAVOURITE film of 2020.  Give it all the love you can, it sure as hell deserves it.

1.  TENET – granted, the streaming platforms (particularly Netflix and Amazon) certainly saved our cinematic summer, but I’m still IMMEASURABLY glad that my ultimate top-spot winner FOR THE WHOLE YEAR was one I got to experience on THE BIG SCREEN. You gotta hand it to Christopher Nolan, he sure hung in there, stubbornly determined that his latest cinematic masterpiece WOULD be released in cinemas in the summer (albeit ultimately landing JUST inside the line in the final week of August and ultimately taking the bite at the box office because of the still shaky atmosphere), and it was worth all the fuss because, for me, this was THE PERFECT MOVIE for me to get return to cinemas with.  I mean, okay, in the end it WASN’T the FIRST new movie I saw after the first reopening, that honour went to Unhinged, but THIS was my first real Saturday night-out big screen EXPERIENCE since March.  Needless to say, Nolan didn’t disappoint this time any more than he has on any of his consistently spectacular previous releases, delivering another twisted, mind-boggling headfuck of a full-blooded experiential sensory overload that comes perilously close to toppling his long-standing auteur-peak, Inception (itself second only by fractions to The Dark Knight as far as I’m concerned). To say much at all about the plot would give away major spoilers – personally I’d recommend just going in as cold as possible, indeed you really should just stop reading this right now and just GO SEE IT.  Still with us?  Okay … the VERY abridged version is that it’s about a secret war being waged between the present and the future by people capable of “inverting” time in substances, objects, people, whatever, into which the Protagonist (BlacKkKlansman’s John David Washington), an unnamed CIA agent, has been dispatched in order to prevent a potential coming apocalypse. Washington is once again on top form, crafting a robust and compelling morally complex heroic lead who’s just as comfortable negotiating the minefields of black market intrigue as he is breaking into places or dispatching heavies, Kenneth Branagh delivers one of his most interesting and memorable performances in years as brutal Russian oligarch Andrei Sator, a genuinely nasty piece of work who was ALMOST the year’s very best screen villain, Elizabeth Debicki (The Night Manager, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Widows) brings strength, poise and wounded integrity to the role of Sator’s estranged wife, Kat, and Aaron Taylor-Johnson gets to use his own accent for once as tough-as-nails British Intelligence officer Ives, while there are brief but consistently notable supporting turns and cameos from Martin Donovan, Yesterday’s Himesh Patel, Dirk Gently’s Fiona Dourif and, of course, Nolan’s good luck charm, Michael Caine.  The cast’s biggest surprise, however, is Robert Pattinson, truly a revelation in what has to be, HANDS DOWN, his best role to date, Neil, the Protagonist’s mysterious handler – he’s by turns cheeky, slick, duplicitous and thoroughly badass, delivering an enjoyably multi-layered, chameleonic performance which proves what I’ve long maintained, that the former Twilight star is actually a fucking amazing actor, and on the basis of this, even if that amazing new teaser trailer wasn’t making the rounds, I think the debate about whether or not he’s the right choice for the new Batman is now academic.  As we’ve come to expect from Nolan, this is a TRUE tour-de-force experience, a visual triumph and an endlessly engrossing head-scratcher, Nolan’s screenplay bringing in seriously big ideas and throwing us some major narrative knots and loopholes, constantly wrong-footing the viewer while also setting up truly revelatory payoffs from seemingly low-key, unimportant beginnings – this is a film you need to be awake and attentive for or you could miss something pretty vital. The action sequences are, as ever, second to none, some of the year’s very best set-pieces coming thick and fast and executed with some of the most accomplished skill in the business, while Nolan-regular cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema (Interstellar and Dunkirk, as well as the heady likes of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, SPECTRE and Ad Astra) once again shows he’s one of the best camera-wizards in the business today by delivering some absolutely mesmerising visuals.  Notably, Nolan’s other regular collaborator, composer Hans Zimmer, is absent here (although he had good reason, since he was working on his dream project at the time, the fast-approaching screen adaptation of Dune), but Ludwig Göransson (best known for his collaborations with Ryan Coogler Fruitvale Station, Creed and Black Panther, as well as career-best work on The Mandalorian) is a fine replacement, crafting an intriguingly internalised, post-modern musical landscape that thrums and pulses in time with the story and emotions of the characters rather than the action itself. Interestingly it’s on the subject of sound that some of the film’s rare detractions have been levelled, and I can see some of the points – the soundtrack mix is an all-encompassing thing, and there are times when the dialogue can be overwhelmed, but in Nolan’s defence this film is a heady, immersive experience, something you really need to concentrate on, so these potential flaws are easily forgiven.  As a work of filmmaking art, this is another flawless wonder from one of the true masters of the craft working in cinema today, but it’s art with palpable substance, a rewarding whole that proved truly unbeatable in 2020 …

[randomfandom-ocs]

Face claim: Josefine Frida Pettersen

Tag: Jane

GENERAL

Name: Jane Mack

Etymology: Feminine form of John. From Hebrew, meaning to be gracious // From Scottish and Irish, meaning kinsman

Alias: J, Mac

Fandom: Kingsman

Series: TBD

Love interest: Eggsy Unwin

Age: 27

Pronouns: She / her

City of origin: Liverpool

Occupation: Kingsman agent

Bio: After an incident that she doesn’t remember, Jane wakes up in the secret Kingsman headquarters. Apparently, she was a skilled agent and, judging by the strange things that happen and the abilities she didn’t know she had, it is all true. Luckily, she has Eggsy Unwin to make everything easier.

APPEARANCE

Hair: Blonde, straight, shoulder-length

Eye color: Greenish blue

Others: Lips usually painted red

Build: Slightly chubby

Outfit: Tight, comfortable clothes

PERSONALITY

Qualities: Courageous. Witty. Serious. Hardworking. Stubborn. Rebellious. Compassionate. Smart. Reckless. Impatient.

Alignment: Chaotic good

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor

Character Tropes: Hero, hotshot, loner, lovable rogue, loyalist

Fears: Loss, failure

Likes: Training, friends, history

SKILLS

Weapon: Handguns

Powers: -

Abilities: Skilled in body combat

Dominant hand: Right

MISC

Accent: British

Related characters: Eggsy Unwin, Harry Hart, Merlin

Colors: Red, black, yellow

Headcanons:

Quotes:

[night-unfurls-its-splendour]

The Critique of Manners Part IV

~Or~

A Very Amused Review of Emma (1972)

One doesn’t really know where to begin with this one. I’ve watched a few of these 70’s/80’s period drama adaptations, but I’ve never written a review for one. I think the tricky thing is it doesn’t feel fair to judge them against more recent adaptations because the approach and quality are so very different to modern television making.

But people do. I’m sure it’s different for people who grew up watching these, who are just used to them and their objectively terrible, stagey quality and can look past that particular weakness on the sheer power of nostalgia.

So I’m going to try and find a middle-ground here where I ignore the stagey and obviously dated aspects and judge it primarily on its value as an adaptation – is it faithful to the book?

Let’s dive in.

Cast & Characterization

Normally I would start with Emma and Knightley but this time I’m gonna switch it up a bit and do them last because… well we’ll get there in a bit.

Let’s start instead with Mr. Woodhouse. I have to say, I kind of like this take. The 1996-7 and 2009 adaptations all kind of went for the same type of older man: a bit stout, or in Michael Gambon’s case… however you would describe Michael Gambon. With Donald Eccles, however, this version goes for a rather more frail looking Mr. Woodhouse; in fact to compare him to any recent Mr. Woodhouse, I suppose he comes closest to Bill Nighy (although the general characterization is of course very different.)  He’s a ridiculous but lovable soul who seems always, of course, worried about his own health and comfort, but in his own selfish way, concerned for his friends and family as well. My only complaint is that maybe they over-utilized him.

I thought the casting of a plump Mrs. Weston (Ellen Dryden) was an interesting choice, and definitely different from other versions. Her acting was actually really good too.

I wasn’t quite so pleased with the characterization of Mr. Weston, on the other hand. I have huge issues with this script vis-à-vis the men, but Mr. Weston and Knightley in particular. The problem with Mr. Weston is how he’s written as just verging on uncouth at some points. There are way too many rustic contractions here: “Ain’t I looking well too, Miss Emma?!’ “’Ark at that eh? The sly young rogue!” “Oh I think it looks tolerably gay and festive, don’t it?” and then just throwing himself back on the grass and chortling when Emma makes her fateful Box Hill faux pas? Like, what the hell? I’m not saying he shouldn’t use a few casual contractions (“How d’you do?” for example) but he seems almost like a positive country bumpkin and I don’t think it’s appropriate; he doesn’t talk like that in the book and I’m just all-around not here for it.

Constance Chapman, a well-respected character actress of the time was cast as Miss Bates, while Molly Sugden, of Are You Being Served? fame was WASTED in the bit-part of Mrs. Goddard. If you ask me, they should have swapped this casting, since I think Sugden, an outstanding comedienne, could have done so much more with the Miss Bates role than the usual wittery-old-lady style chattering Chapman delivered.

Mr. Elton was played by Timothy Peters (Right) and was, eh, adequate. They did slime him up a bit by having him over-eagerly offer to fix Emma’s bootlace, which she points out isn’t entirely appropriate for a man to do, especially the vicar and it’s pretty funny; but other than that, he has all the appearance of being a pleasant young man, as Mr. Elton should – becoming less pleasant as the story progresses.

One John Alkin (left) played Mr. Robert Martin, and he, too, was adequate. There’s not much of him and, since Mr. Martin wasn’t one of those characters this version decided to approach more three-dimensionally, there’s not much to say about him. 

Frank Churchill is… OMG IT’S PRINCE HARRY FROM BLACKADDER!

Ahem. Yes, Robert East (BETTER KNOWN AS PRINCE HARRY FROM BLACKADDER) plays a very agreeable (and smarmy, but not too smarmy) Frank. I think honestly this is as good as this part could get in the 70’s, although at 29 he was a little too old for the part.

John and Isabella, in an interesting (?) casting choice, were played by brother and sister duo, Yves and Belinda Tighe. I actually really liked Yves’s John Knightley (he’s actually one of the more handsome John’s, in a 70’s kind of way; for note-taking purposes I have nicknamed him “Not-Harrison-Ford”), but his sister as Isabella seemed kind of old and had just a really annoying voice. Also she doesn’t look at all like Doran Godwin, and Emma and Isabella are supposed to look somewhat alike.

The real casting stand out for me in this version is Fiona Walker as Mrs. Elton, although she too was a little old for her role, I’ve said before that there are no bad Mrs. Eltons (only bad accents) and she just absolutely nailed the insufferable chatter to a definitive standard (until the recent adaptations – 2009 onward).

I did however, get the feeling in this version that they kind of wrote in a through-line where Mrs. Elton is putting the moves on Mr. Knightley (to the point where they actually wrote out Mr. Elton from scenes he should be in) which was one of those unnecessary deviations which made me raise an eyebrow and also was just… weird.

Now my question is – why do all of the young women in this series kind of look like evil dolls?

Debbie Bowen, from a strictly book accuracy perspective is one of the most accurate Harriet Smiths I’ve seen – in fact we don’t get another this accurate (to my way of thinking) until Louise Dylan in 2009, who fits roughly the same model (fair and shapely). Its Bowen’s acting I don’t like, but I know that in the 70’s, this kind of simpering acting for this kind of character was just unavoidable. It was the style at the time, so I’m cutting her a break critically; but the performance just doesn’t cut it for me.

This Jane Fairfax (played by Ania Marson) is not my favorite interpretation of this character. At first I thought she was going to be alright, but in her first scene she bursts out and actually shouts in frustration at her chattering aunt (which she has some basis for, I’ll admit, since Miss Bates, in her muddle-headed way, could very well have unwittingly spilled the beans about Jane and Frank) but this is far more feeling than we should even have a hint of from Jane at this point. The whole reason Emma doesn’t like Jane (other than the fact that Emma is an attention whore and Jane steals her thunder by being so admired and accomplished) is because she’s timid and demure and reserved.

But the biggest problem I have with this Jane is that she can’t even fucking sing. I know they write it away as her having a sore throat (Which I think is a pull from a different part of the book?) but this was just egregiously bad to me. This is the only time in the series they show Jane singing so it’s never actually established that Jane really is more accomplished than Emma (although they don’t show Emma herself singing or even playing at all either.) Could the actresses just not sing well so they decided to write around it? You could have dubbed it; you had that technology in the 70’s!

OK. Now it’s time to talk about Doran Godwin. I’ve never seen her in anything else so I don’t know if it’s just that she can’t act, but I have no idea what she was going for with this portrayal of Emma, and this is something so consistent and unique to her that I, for once, can’t justify blaming it solely on the director because you can’t direct crazy-eyes. They just happen; and they happen A LOT in this series.

I’ve struggled to find the words to sufficiently describe my feeling about Doran Godwin’s facial expressions and her acting in this adaptation. In my ribbon rating notes I think I describe her as a “witchy automaton”? I stand by it. Every time she talks to someone her eyes go very wide and she sort of looks like she’s trying to hypnotize everyone in Highbury. The effect is just absolutely inhuman. I never thought I’d ever see anyone with more patently crazed Crazy-Eyes than Timothy “Crazy-Eyes” Dalton – but man, Doran “Hypno-Witch” Godwin just stole the prize. Perhaps she escaped from the set of a Doctor Who? telling of the story where Miss Woodhouse has been replaced by an android.

You have scenes such as this in episode 2 , where Harriet is trying to get Emma to acknowledge Mr. Elton calling after them as they walk past the vicarage, and Emma ignores her by mechanically continuing to talk, looking straight ahead with laser focus. Of course, Emma is intentionally ignoring Harriet because she wants Mr. Elton to follow them, but that wasn’t quite apparent to me until the end of her ramble – which I had assumed she was forced to complete due to some directive in her programming. I have more to say on her characterization, but we’ll get to that in a dedicated section of the review.

John Carson might actually be one of the better Knightley’s, but I’m sorry – at 45 he was just too old. This is something you can play around with in other characters (Mr. Weston and Miss Bates after all, have no stated ages in the book) but not only do we know how old Mr. Knightley is in the book, they state in the show that Emma is 21 (Doran Godwin was actually 28) and that Mr. Knightley is sixteen years older than her – 37 or 38 – and John Carson is CLEARLY no 38. This obviously-over-forty appearance does have an effect on how I view his banter with Emma, and it’s more avuncular than the older-brother feel that Mr. Knightley and Emma should have.

Whether by direction or actor’s choice, Carson’s Mr. Knightley speaks in a way that just doesn’t feel period to me. He has a very sort of 20th Century, stock British, hearty-good-fellow manner, that dates this adaptation pretty badly and feels old-fashioned (but not in a Regency/Georgian way) even in the 70’s.

Sets & Surroundings

Normally at this point in the review I would talk about the British manor houses and estates used and how they measure up to the book descriptions but the publicly funded BBC ran on a much tighter budget in the 70’s (apparent in the production values and number of obviously bad takes that they just decided to leave in, in everything they made) and as such they couldn’t afford to film in and rent out large estates quite as much, so this has the trademark 70’s/80’s BBC sound-stage quality of all of their other productions of the period. That said, this production actually has some of the better sets I’ve seen and that’s saying something, for being made in the 70’s. The walls didn’t actually shake when doors were closed, and it didn’t feel as stagey as some other Austen serials of the time. (This doesn’t improve the very “on-cue” acting in the series, but I have to give credit where it’s due.) I believe they may used a real manor house for the exterior of Hartfield (and not a landscape pastel) and maybe some of the interiors too? I can’t say for sure, and I would love to tell you what house and where it is but I can’t find any credits on it. I’ll just say that I think it’s very suitable and leave it at that.

Costumes

Much like today, the BBC almost exclusively used, re-used and rented costumes for their period productions. Almost every costume in this series was also used in the 70’s and 80’s BBC productions of Sense and Sensibility, Mansfield Park, and Pride and Prejudice (P&P being the overwhelming common denominator – almost every one of Emma’s evening dresses and pelisses was seen, primarily on Caroline Bingley.) Some of the shawls have been picked out in BBC Austens as recently as 2008.

For being made in the 70’s the costumes in this production are really kind of nice. They don’t date themselves too badly. The ones that do feel 70’s retro, in fact, were mostly styles borrowed from period accurate fashions that just happened to coincide with contemporary 70’s tastes, and which aren’t often used in Regency costumes today because, well they don’t coincide with our modern tastes. For the most part, they look well-made (although some of them do have that stiff, dingy polyester look to them and there are definitely some plastic pearls here and there).

I’m quite pleased with the silhouettes which don’t suffer from Square Bust/Boob Droop syndrome the way the 1980 P&P does. All of the assets seem to be lifted and shifted in the right places.

Daywear

I like Emma’s blue day dress the best of all her day-wear looks. It’s a rich color and has pleated cups (Also on her white day dress) which is a style I really love.

Emma wears the gauzy… let’s be kind and say ivory instead of “Yellowish” ruff during the day A LOT (Emma Pic 2). It’s a popular look on Jane Fairfax too (Jane Pic 2) and I just… I don’t like it. Not that it’s not period appropriate (because it unfortunately is) it just makes them look like Dr. Seuss characters to me, especially worn with short sleeves which is something these dramas do a lot and I hate it. It just makes the person in question look very awkwardly disproportionate to me, especially because. if they had long sleeves to go with it (which would be more correct from a historical authenticity standpoint) it would even it out so much better. Compare Jane and Emma to see what I mean. The single layer ruffle (Emma Pic 1) is much more agreeable to me. (I wanna point out that Jane wears the same green dress without any partlet or undersleeves for strawberry picking at Donwell, which is blatant Eveningwear-For-Daywear™ and looked really out of place since everyone else was wearing day-appropriate attire).

Emma’s wider, cuffed, long sleeves and Mrs. Elton’s puffy segmented Renaissance sleeves are exactly what I mean about period accurate styles that suit the 70’s in a way that they just don’t jive today. Even Harriet gets some.

Mrs. Elton Orange ™ is another crayon color Crayola should consider I think.

Harriet gets stuck with a lot of brown outer wear but her day clothes are otherwise pretty nice. I especially like the ivory and blue number (Bottom right) and her white day dress with blue accents (Top right) which I think is the nicest thing she wears in this whole series. 

Evening Wear

Emma’s evening wear confines itself pretty exclusively to cool purples and blues except for her white ball gown. I find this interesting because other versions tend to dress Emma in warmer colors and pinks (As I’m very partial to purples and blues, I love all of them). I can’t say it’s inconsistent with Emma’s cold characterization in this version. Mrs. Weston’s evening gowns are uniformly amazing. I especially love her blue party dress, which is my favorite in the series.

Both of Harriet’s party dresses are characteristically pretty and girlish. The pink is a bit fussy for me but I love the blue one (which has a lot more detail but I couldn’t get a full length shot of it.)

I’m pleased that Jane is given a bit of a break from the Jane Fairfax Blue ™ trope with her evening wear. She has one light blue evening gown and gets a few green numbers, most notable being her mint ball gown. Her beige party dress is absolutely tragic though.

Mrs. Elton’s evening color seems to be chartreuse (Which I think was also the case in the ITV version? ITV fans back me up.) Her black overlay/spiky number is iconic of the Austen Bad Girl, but her ball gown is a bit disappointing in its simplicity to me.

I would love to have seen a full length shot of Isabella’s black and purple number because I have a suspicion THAT would have been my favorite but I just can’t make out enough detail on it.

Zig-zag patterns on the skirt are a huge theme in this version, which is so of the period. Mrs. Cole (shout out to another future Are You Being Served? familiar, Hilda Fenemore) looks straight out of a fashion plate in her dark green party dress, which has (drumroll please…) a padded hem! 

Outerwear

This version has SO MANY PELISSES AND REDINGOTES. Are they all nice? No. No they are not; I particularly hate Emma’s fugly salmon number that she wears for Strawberry picking/Box Hill. Mostly because she looks SO over-dressed compared to everyone else who’s wearing loose fitting light clothes (except Jane, who’s wearing an evening dress). Just looking at her makes me hot. I’m also NOT a huge fan of her pink winter cloak. The one trimmed with… faux ermine? One can only assume. It looks awfully tacky.

That russet pelisse tho! This is one of my all-time favorites. It’s SO. PRETTY and so detailed (See this number on Jane in P&P ’80). I think her gray fur-trimmed pelisse is pretty fabulous too, but I do not like the hat she wears with it. The brim is kind of a funky shape to me.

I know I’ve criticized brown before, but I do like it in moderation and this version is astonishingly brown-free for being made in the 70’s, so I really like her red/brown velvet spencer, especially with the cream dress and gloves, and her hat has some amazing decoration.

Jane and Mrs. Weston are the only other characters who get pelisses/redingotes. I’m not a fan of Mrs. Weston’s fuchsia number, and while I like Jane’s, it does put itself solidly in the Jane Fairfax Blue™ category.  

Harriet gets pretty much only one form of outer-wear, her brown school cloak (a different brown school cloak from the one in the ‘97 version, in case you were wondering) and while it’s pretty dull, it’s hardly unexpected. Here it is paired with her rather ugly blue bonnet, with yellow ribbon. The bonnet features heavily in this episode.

To be honest for the most part I totally forgot about the… 

because a lot of it is very standard. No dandy standouts here, but overall it’s pretty okay and I’m really pleased to say that there are no bib-cravats. That’s not usually so much a problem in Regency Era stuff (Since ruffles were going out at around this time), but you can really distinctly see that the ruffles (where ruffles there are – usually on older men which is good) are part of the shirt and distinctly separate from the cravat. Also there are LOTS of high collars and they’re not comically high to the point where they get wrinkled, like they were in Emma. (2020), so points for that also. These are the screencaps I gathered going back over it for posterity.

Mr. Knightley doesn’t really get a lot of cool outfits. His best is his purple velvet evening jacket which somehow manages to not look ostentatious (but is his only dress jacket), and his gold-topped Prussian boots (which you should just be able to see bottom right.) The worst though… I’m sorry, (looks up costumer’s name) Joan Ellacott – do you really expect me to feel the weight of Emma’s cock-ups when Mr. Knightley is rebuking her in such a cartoonishly proportioned top hat? It’s like being scolded by the Mad Hatter. All of the men’s hats are pretty flared in this series too, and I’m not totally sure but, I’m pretty sure I read somewhere that flared top hats are not right for this period?

I think Mr. Weston only has one day outfit (which, in keeping with his characterization is pretty farmer-chic) and one evening outfit. Frank’s dark green day-jacket is a pretty standard look on him and I don’t think we get a fresh look until his fabulous blue jacket/yellow waistcoat combo that he wears for Strawberry Picking/Box Hill. I believe his evening jacket is also dark green but it was tough to tell. Again I think he has only one set of evening-wear. I would expect Frank to have more, since he’s such a dandy.

Mr. John Knightley doesn’t have much to write home about in terms of evening kit, but DAYUM, his blue traveling coat is DOOOOOPE. 

Let’s Talk Script

This adaptation was directed by John Glenister and Dramatized by Denis Constanduros.

Now I’ve seen a lot of positive reviews for this on IMDB calling it the… let’s see here… “The best Emma I’ve ever seen” and “The most true to the novel”… *Takes off spectacles and sighs heavily* I’m afraid I have to disagree. Several people also really love Doran Godwin’s Emma (We’ve already gone over why I don’t, and I have also seen reviews that name her and her lack of charisma as the main sticking point preventing them from really enjoying it, so I’m not alone). I’ve also heard it described as “sensitively handled” “Intimate” and “The most faithful to the spirit of Austen” and so forth, and again maybe it’s that prejudice against the stagey production and… no there’s definitely some other reason I have a problem with this version.

Let me make this clear – I don’t totally hate it, and I’m not here to shame the people who really love this version. Once again – if this version gives you what you want from the story I think that’s great for you. I, myself, like it pretty well and I think it’s one of the better early BBC Austen serials. It’s certainly not boring; but I do want to go over some of the changes that were made and choices in the script.

Some of them aren’t really that egregious, but they’re annoying in that I think they didn’t need to be made and don’t really add anything. Characters being added to scenes where they didn’t need to be and written out of scenes where their presence was missed. Like writing Mr. Elton out of Box Hill (And really the whole second half of the series, to facilitate Mrs. Elton flirting with Knightley), and adding Miss Bates into the after-dinner scene, I think at the Randalls Christmas party? I’m sure this was done for expediency but you have six episodes. It’s not as though you’re strapped for time.

Particularly praised, as far as I’ve seen, is the scene at Christmas when Knightley and Emma make up after their argument over Harriet. It takes place in the nursery, which I suppose isn’t an unreasonable place for Emma to be fawning over her niece (in the dramatization she seems to have been feeding the baby, where in the book she is playing with her). The book doesn’t specify where the scene takes place, although I assumed it to be a downstairs room, and I’m not sure that it’s entirely appropriate for Emma and a man (even one connected to her family through marriage) to be alone in an upstairs room together with the door closed and no more chaperone than a baby. But in spite of this, perhaps inappropriate, level of privacy, the scene feels less intimate to me than the book, where in the course of the conversation, where Mr. Knightley takes the baby from Emma “in the manner of perfect amity” and holds her himself and it is very adorable and sweet. In the dramatization, Knightley sort of just stands next to Emma’s chair and leans down a bit. After this conversation in the book, John comes into the room to talk to George, while in the show Emma puts the baby in the cradle and they leave the room to go downstairs.

But there are more outstanding changes that just feel wrong to me. When confronting Emma about her meddling in Harriet’s response to Mr. Martin’s proposal, Constanduros changes “What is the foolish girl about?” to “What is the stupid girl about?” it’s not that big a change, but it makes Mr. Knightley sound unnecessarily mean.

I’ve already mentioned the, er, additions regarding Mr. Weston’s dialogue and Mrs. Elton, and Jane shouting at Miss Bates; but by far the biggest, worst additions were made with Emma. The worst, I think, is the handling of this scene in Episode 4 when Harriet is feeling heartsick following Mr. Elton’s marriage.

And for those of you who don’t wanna follow the link, here’s a transcription:

Emma: Now Harriet! Your allowing yourself to become so upset over Mr. Elton’s marriage is the strongest possible reproach you could make to me!

Harriet: Miss Woodhouse –

Emma: Yes it is! You could not more constantly remind me of the mistake I made, which is most hurtful!

Harriet: Oh Miss Woodhouse, it was not intended to be!

Emma: I have not said “think and talk less of Mr. Elton” for my sake, Harriet, because it is for yours I wish it. My being hurt is a very… secondary consideration, but please, please Harriet, do learn to exert a little more self-discipline in this matter.

Harriet: {Looks down} Yes, Miss Woodhouse.

Emma: We are all creatures of feeling; we all suffer disappointments, it is how we learn to suffer them that forms our character. If you continue in this way, Harriet, I shall think you wanting in true friendship for me!  

Harriet: Oh, Miss Woodhouse! You, who are the best friend I’ve ever had? Oh what a horrid, horrid wretch I’ve been!”

Emma: Oh now Harriet – (She’s gonna console her now, right?)

Harriet: Oh yes, I have, I have!

Emma: Harriet, control yourself! (ha ha bitch, u thought) Now, you will tie your bonnet, and you are coming with me to call on Mr. And Mrs. Elton at the Vicarage…

Harriet: Oh, Miss Woodhouse –

Emma: Yes you are! And I’m sure you will find it far less distressing than you think.

Harriet: Oh, Miss Woodhouse, must I?

Emma: Yes, Harriet; but you may borrow my lace ruff if you wish.

Harriet: Oh may I, Miss Woodhouse? Oh, thank you!

(Look how evil she looks! She looks like she’s planning on baking Harriet into a pie!)

While this scene is in the book and much of the dialogue is also from the book, it’s the lines that were added that stick out to me. Emma does tell Harriet that her allowing herself to become upset over the Eltons is a reproach on Emma more than anything else and reminds her miserably of the “Mistake [Emma] fell into” but from this point, the script takes a left turn from the firm but kind appeal to Harriet to move on for both her happiness and Emma’s own comfort, to a far more manipulative strain.

Even after Harriet apologizes, she goes from simply appealing to Harriet to let herself move on, to basically telling her that she’s a bad friend. She treats Harriet like she’s unreasonable for feeling this way, where in the book Emma is very understanding and feels that “she could not do too much for her; that Harriet had every right to all her ingenuity and patience…” and only after Harriet goes all afternoon with Emma soothing her and no improvement in her spirits does Emma take any kind of reproachful tack whatsoever.

    In this scene, Emma says that her own happiness is a secondary consideration (this is stressed much more in the book) but from the way she says it, it seems more like she just wants Harriet to shut up about it rather than actually meaning it. (This is a very prominent example of Emma’s not seeming to really like Harriet at all in this version, only tolerating her presence.)

AND THEN she does something which Emma in the book most certainly did NOT do and forces Harriet to come with her to visit the Eltons, as if to put her on the spot and test how good a little friend she will be. I can’t express how disgusted I am by the changes and interpretation here. This is the culmination of the general through-line of Emma’s manipulative characterization being taken to an extreme. She looms over Harriet sounding, by turns, like a school marm and a saccharine nanny. She’s like a (very) low budget version of Tilda Swinton as the White Witch in The Chronicles of Narnia. 

My question about all of these changes is simply: Why? They don’t improve the story or the characters. They’re not big, but a lot of them just strike me as weird and unnecessary, but I guess there’s no accounting for artistic license.  

Final Thoughts

So is it a faithful adaptation? I often find this a more complex question to answer for myself than one would think, since inflection and line delivery and even, at some points, intention behind what the characters say tends to be up to the interpretation of the person reading the book.

Is the dialogue faithful? Other than the many changes I’ve mentioned (and the numerous cuts and edits I didn’t – and besides no screenplay can be 100% faithful), for the most part yes.

Are the characters accurate to description / faithful in their portrayal – again this tends to be subjective and opinions vary. In my opinion, Emma is not. I’ve mentioned that Knightley is too old, and Emma not only seems more intentionally manipulative than I believe she’s meant to be, and also just does not seem 21. She acts and looks like a much older woman, especially when preaching at Harriet) but she’s also very gawky, and Emma is supposed to look very healthy and glowing.

So my book accuracy rating meets in the middle at a 4.5. It’s NOT the most faithful adaptation I’ve seen, nor is it the most fun or the most intimate, but it’s not totally a travesty either and there are good things in it, even with a robot witch playing the main lead.

Ribbon Rating: Tolerable (43 Ribbons )

Tone: 4

Casting: 5 (Witchy automaton Doran Goodwin plays opposite avuncular good-fellow John Carson. Fiona Walker stands out as Mrs. Elton.)

Acting: 5 (Doran Goodwin is by turns crazed and mechanical with some momentary touches of what might be actual emotion. Raymond Adamson way over-acts Mr. Weston as a hobbeldy-hoi, verging on uncouth.)

Scripting: 4

Pacing: 4

Cinematography: 4 (A bump up from the usual 1 or 2 for TV dramas of the time. Surprisingly less stagey than expected.)

Sets and Settings: 5

Costumes: 7 (Very clearly of the 70’s but drawing on perfectly accurate styles that jived well with contemporary taste)

Music: 1 (Plinky, poorly played piano music. Only used for intro and outro I think? Jane Fairfax can neither play nor sing.)

Book Accuracy: 5 (They changed a lot of small details. Lines are changed unnecessarily (Calling Harriet “Stupid” rather than “Foolish” – Why?) Mrs. Elton seems to have a thing for Knightley? People present when they shouldn’t be, others absent when they should be present, again without any apparent reason.)

[trainsinanime]

The Owl House

TL;DR: Good series, can recommend, only problem is that there aren’t enough episodes out yet.

I’ve been watching this show over the past two weeks, and since my sister asked me what it was about (and I don’t think I had a good answer then), I thought I’d write a bit more. It’s a western animated kids TV show available on Disney+, made by an artist on the Ducktales reboot who wanted to do something more surreal (and more gay). That history basically describes a lot of what the show is about: Stylistically and in terms of story telling, Ducktales reboot is really very close, but it sets itself apart especially in really strong world-building. 

Plot-wise, it’s somewhere between Isekai and Harry Potter: The main character, Luz, essentially a human teenage version of Webby from Ducktales (for better or worse), goes through a magic portal into a magic world and decides that she wants to become a witch. She gets taken in by Eda, a lovable rogue con artist and powerful witch, and moves with her and her friend/pet demon into the Owl House and then has a lot of adventures. She makes more friends and later in the show she joins a magic school.

The main unique thing about the show is how utterly bizarre and surreal its world is. It’s a delight, and it’s not afraid of going a bit darker and more spooky (though rarely outright scary) than you’d expect.

Biggest strength are easily the characters; I particularly love Eda, King and Amity. The show very much carries over the Ducktales tradition of strong characters who are both funny and highly distinct, but also deeper than you’d think.

Tonally, it’s very light-hearted, and very self-aware, to the point where I keep half expecting characters to say “Oh hey, a B-plot, see ya later” at five minutes into every episode. The self-awareness will, depending on your tastes, be either hilarious or obnoxious; for me it’s somewhere in between, just shy of obnoxious but enough that I don’t always like it. That’s a matter of taste, though.

I really liked the show, and while I don’t think I’ll go super crazy over it, I absolutely am looking forward to season 2.

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

Best Two Out of Three

A/N: i know y’all have been waiting so anxiously to see who won the sparring fight between demon!harry and angel!Y/N and i’m more than happy to finally give it to you guys! i hope you enjoyyyyy

word count: 7.9k

content: cocky yet lovable asshole demon!h and a smidge of filth  

preview:

Y/N knows that fighting has to do with impulse just as much as training, and she knows the brain finds comfort in patterns. Lower left hip, the center of the ribcage on the opposite side, meaning that instincts expect her to strike somewhere on his left side again. This is exactly why she does the contrary, slamming her palm against Harry’s right shoulder and smirking to herself when, out of her peripheral vision, she glimpses him trying to protect his left. The impact sends him jarring backwards.

Her knee zones in on his abdomen, though he manages to block it with his conjoined fingers, catapulting her heel towards the ground. She advances forward with two quick punches between his pectoral muscles and then one straight for his jaw, which he manages to evade by ducking his head sideways. Harry returns her jaw punch with one of his own and she just barely skims by unscathed, dropping towards the floor onto her belly and slipping between her boyfriend’s parted legs. She flips onto her back, pulling her legs against her chest and then jutting her heels upwards with all her might. Harry’s ass takes the heat.

He’s launched forward, stumbling a few feet and saving himself with the pads of his extended fingers against the mat. He reels around to face Y/N (who has already recovered her footing) with an expression of shocked amusement at her target. Y/N retaliates with a coy shrug of her brows. 

“You quite literally just kicked my ass.”

“And I quite literally enjoyed it.”

or Y/N challenges Harry to a sparring match with two very important prizes on the line: a strip tease versus a month of litter-box duty.

///

“First rule: absolutely no powers in any way, shape, or form.” Harry tightens the neon yellow boxing tape securely around Y/N’s knuckles, tugging the last layer with finality, ripping the excess off with his teeth. “Which means you can’t shock me with that electricity shit you do with your fingers.” 

“How many times do I have to tell you it’s static.”

Harry tosses the roll of athletic wrap into the supplies bin he has at the corner of his work-out room, eyelids dropping over his irises in a disbelieving, humorous scowl. “I’m pretty sure static doesn’t look like pastel blue lightning.”

Y/N shrugs easily as she extends and curls her bound fingers, trying to get used to the firmness of the protective cloth. She glances upwards, batting her eyelashes at him with a blank stare of faux innocence. “You never know.” 

Harry reaches into the left pocket of his starch white Nike gym shorts, fishing out a hair tie as he drifts towards a rack of bo staffs at the opposite corner of the room, pulling his messy curls into a short ponytail atop his head. Y/N can’t rip her gaze from the way the taunt muscles of his back shift with his movements, rippling beneath the thin material of his grey-wash Harley Davidson muscle tank.

“Second rule,” he picks up one of the long, waxy wooden poles, giving it a slow, full spin as he passes it between his palms, “no dirty play.”

“Never thought I’d hear you say that.”

Harry’s grip clenches around the middle of the combat stick, the familiar bite of the smooth surface prickling his skin and sending a buzzing up his arm. He smirks knowingly down at his feet while Y/N distractedly peers at the veins chiseling their way up his forearm. “Neither did I, but I want a fair fight so that when I beat you, there’s no wiggle room.”   

“You sound so confident, it’s gonna hurt my heart when I make you eat your words.” Y/N jolts her eyebrows challengingly, a teasing grin toying with the edges of her pursed lips. 

Harry tilts his head back up, eyes focusing on his girlfriend as she rests in an instinctual defensive stance a few feet away from him, clad in an old Vans tee and a pair of black compression tights he’d let her borrow. His chin edges upward, the gesture tainted with an aura of cocksure smugness. The natural glint that reflects off the usual deep canopy green of his eyes suddenly brightens— the unmistakable sign of a darker, more reflective hue washing over it. 

“Lucky for me, mine stopped beating a long time ago. Means I’ll feel absolutely nothing when I wipe you across the floor.” 

“Mm, I don’t believe that.”

“You’re right. I forgot ‘satisfied joy’ is an emotion.”

Harry reaches for another staff, picking the one at the bottom rung. It’s completely black, the surface twinkling alluringly under the light that streams in through the sheer silver curtains, giving away that the weapon is made out of some type of stone or gem. 

He catches Y/N studying the stick intriguingly, voicing the answer to her curiosity. “It’s made of obsidian and onyx. Forged by a good friend downstairs. It’s weighted specifically to my hand, balanced to my liking.”

With his single free hand, Harry gives the staff a few quick, skillful twirls that show off his close fellowship with the tool, the pieces of onyx strewn within the tempered obsidian bouncing the faint rays of sunlight all across the maroon walls of the room. He slams one end down onto the floor, the circular flat edge digging into the royal blue safety mat covering the entirety of the ground. “Never lost a fight with it.”

Y/N tilts her head to the side a tad, licking over her lips as excited anticipation starts sparking across the tips of her fingers. “There’s a first for everything.”

Without warning, Harry hurls the other bo staff toward Y/N with his full strength, wanting to test her impulses in order to survey his competition. 

Y/N doesn’t miss a beat, her body acting on centuries of muscle memory and celestially-spiked adrenaline. Her arm shoots outwards, the staff ramming longways right into the palm of her awaiting hand, digits wrapping around it tightly as she absorbs the strength behind the blow, her own canceling it out. 

Harry simply gives a satisfied nod, his bare feet padding against the vinyl plastic of the mat as he draws closer to her until they’re about a yard apart. He leans against his custom prop as Y/N lowers her’s beside her right thigh, his eyes tinted their usual jade once again, full of impressed amusement.

“Final rule: best two out of three wins and if you’re down for at least three seconds, you lose the round. The first two are hand-to-hand, the last one is with the staffs. I’m guessing you’re versed in Krav Maga, right?”

“Was there when it was invented, so obviously.”

“Jujutsu?”

“Mmhm.”

“Taekwondo?”

“Yeah.”

“Boxing?”

“Yes. I can also make a mean bologna sandwich and can touch the tip of my nose with my tongue. Are you done stalling?”

“Just wanna make sure that when I win, you don’t pull ‘I wasn’t taught that style’ as an excuse.”

Y/N lightly chucks her pole just outside the bounds of the practice mat, where it won’t be an obstacle. “I’m a little insulted you’d think so little about Heaven’s first line of defense.” 

“And I just don’t want you to be a sore loser. Pettiness isn’t a cute look on you.” Harry quips as his staff is strewn across Y/N’s, the crack of the impact echoing across the entire apartment. 

He starts rolling his shoulders to loosen up, craning his neck from side to side, feet shifting into a diagonal, parallel fighting position. “Did you stretch? Wouldn’t want you to pull a muscle mid-kick, would we?”

Y/N mirrors his posture, pushing a few rogue strands of hair from her eyes with the back of her hand, bare feet planting themselves steadily apart as she ducks slightly, knees bending a smidge to calibrate her center of gravity. The grip of the rubbery plastic beneath her toes fills her with a type of soothing hum, her muscles purring as her senses hone into crisp awareness. She can hear the blood pumping in her ears, feel the coolness of the air expanding her lungs, and she can even make out the faint, dull ringing that is suspended in the electrified air, which fills the gap of Harry’s lacking heartbeat. 

“Don’t worry about me, I’m all good.”

Harry holds up his palms in a peaceful gesture, the bright boxing tape seeming to glow in the dusky light swimming across the air. “Just trying t’be a caring boyfriend.”  

His hands fall into fists, thumbs instinctively resting beneath his lower round of knuckles instead of tucking under his fingers— a method he’d learned early on in his training, conceived with the notion of preventing one from breaking their thumbs with the force of their own punches. The flat side of his forearms face outwards as a first line of defense, veins carving their way under his skin as his fists clench readily, itching for the feel of collision. 

His heels carve deeper into the mat, balancing his mass and revving his nerves. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Alright. Ladies first.” 

As much as Y/N hates to admit it, it makes sense that Harry won the first round. 

He’d recently been assigned to coaching the newest flight of demons-in-training, meaning that for the last two weeks, he’d been practicing on his combat skills for six hours a day, five days a week. Y/N hadn’t sparred in a while— months, maybe. She was unfortunately rusty and it shows pretty evidently in how it takes Harry less than a minute to give her left cheek a mat-patterned makeover. 

She had started off fairly solid with a distraction technique that she was always confident in. A punch aimed right at the center of Harry’s sternum with the intent of cutting off his airflow, which he blocked swiftly, just as she predicted he would. 

What she wasn’t expecting was the form he used to block her. 

Y/N expected him to throw up his forearms parallel to one another to defend himself, meanwhile she would use that split second to sweep him off his feet with a hooked kick to his right ankle. That was the original plan.

Harry threw a wrench in it. 

Instead, he crosses his forearms in front of his chest, Y/N’s fist ending up wedged between them. Her eyes do a terrible job of hiding her alarmed panic as she glances up momentarily, met with an expression of conceited triumph painted over her boyfriend’s annoyingly handsome features. The sly snark in his voice makes her teeth grate. “Oops.”   

The small change in tactic was enough to throw her off rhythm; the rest of the round was basically his for the taking. 

He doesn’t waste a single moment, delivering a quick, sharp kick to the side of her left knee, using the hold on her wrist to twist her arm roughly, throwing her body off equilibrium. She is met with another kick right to her stomach, the front of one of Harry’s calves hitting her about an inch above the belly button, right below the ribs. Y/N crumples to her hands and knees, a deep ache radiating across every one of her bones, concentrating mainly on the points that had taken the blows. All of her attention is diverted to her labored breathing, having to consciously force herself to go through the motions, her lungs rattling with every inhale. Her eyes blur with overwhelmed tears, which she messily wipes away with the back of her hand before Harry can see them. 

She’s not hurt, just stunned (the ache is ebbing away fairly quick as her self-healing kicks in). She hadn’t realized just how out of practice she was until now.  

Harry allows a few seconds to drag by (both for her sake and the three-count forfeit rule) and then crouches down level with her, elbows propping on his knees as his head cocks sideways to catch her line of sight. He reaches forward and gently taps on Y/N’s nose playfully, voice airy and teasing (though there’s an obvious haughtiness in the undertone). “Don’t take this the wrong way, darling, but if this is what Heaven’s first line of defense is like, it’s pretty shitty.”

He offers her his hand and after a pause of petty hesitation, she begrudgingly accepts it. 

Once she’s back on her feet, she balances on one foot and lightly swings the lower half of her injured leg back and forth. The joint pops back into place, drawing a faint wince on her behalf. “Asshole.”

“You shouldn’t have underestimated me, minx.” 

Y/N regains her combat stance, shuffling back a step or so for a better range of motion. “Call it.”

“Are you sure you don’t want a minute to—”

“Call it.”

The second round goes much better. 

She takes off at a running start, pulsing herself off the ground about two feet, coming down onto Harry with her forearms crossed. She’s met with a mirror of her gesture as Harry allows her full weight to sink against his arms and then uses the momentum against her. He pushes up and forward, feeling the force leave his muscles as Y/N flies back. She lands crouched low on her feet, not phased at all. One of her palms juts down against the mattress for stability as she swings out her left leg in one quick motion, ankle colliding with Harry’s. 

He teeters backwards a bit, but manages to preserve his footing. 

Y/N lunges again, a punch hitting him square in the stomach. The feeling of finally pulling one on him swells here confidence. She follows with an intricate set of moves, aiming each jab at specific pressure points that should shock her opponent’s nerves just enough to grant her a window of opportunity for a total knock out. One aimed at his left hip, which throws his torso sideways. Another at the other side, higher up, concentrated between his second and third ribs. He blocks it with his wrist, but Y/N doesn’t let it distract her this time. Her mind is racing, eyes darting back and forth across Harry’s body, analyzing it for weak links and connecting it to the technique layout in her mind. 

Y/N knows that fighting has to do with impulse just as much as training, and she knows the brain finds comfort in patterns. Lower left hip, the center of the ribcage on the opposite side, meaning that instincts expect her to strike somewhere on his left side again. This is exactly why she does the contrary, slamming her palm against Harry’s right shoulder and smirking to herself when, out of her peripheral vision, she glimpses him trying to protect his left. The impact sends him jarring backwards.

Her knee zones in on his abdomen, though he manages to block it with his conjoined fingers, catapulting her heel towards the ground. She advances forward with two quick punches between his pectoral muscles and then one straight for his jaw, which he manages to evade by ducking his head sideways. Harry returns her jaw punch with one of his own and she just barely skims by unscathed, dropping towards the floor onto her belly and slipping between her boyfriend’s parted legs. She flips onto her back, pulling her legs against her chest and then jutting her heels upwards with all her might. Harry’s ass takes the heat.

He’s launched forward, stumbling a few feet and saving himself with the pads of his extended fingers against the mat. He reels around to face Y/N (who has already recovered her footing) with an expression of shocked amusement at her target, which Y/N returns with a coy shrug of her brows. 

“You quite literally just kicked my ass.”

“And I quite literally enjoyed it.”

She barrels towards him and he comes to the conclusion that it seems he underestimated her.

Harry waits until the distance between them is dangerously short and then dives to the right, his tank top rustling as she attempts to brake her trajectory. He slams his forearm flat across her upper back and then follows it up with a repeat on the lower half, but with his elbow. Y/N’s body arcs, absorbing the brutal force of the blows and processing what to do next. Harry takes this chance to fling himself onto her, arms snaking around her and gluing her arms to her sides. His girlfriend tries to break free by rending from side to side, but as soon as she realizes it’s useless, she switches tactics. Y/N sprints upwards, Harry’s body leaning back to accommodate. 

Instead of landing on her feet, she allows herself to fall onto her knees on the mat, ignoring the cold shot of pain that ices the joints. She then swings her upper-body forward, tumbling across the ground with Harry in tow. She ends up on top of him, his arms still clamped around her but lose enough that she can get a dig in with her elbows. There’s a crack on impact. 

Harry grunts in pained alarm, releasing her out of instinct. She rolls off him onto her stomach, pushing herself up to get her legs propped on each side of his thighs. She grabs his wrists, ramming them against the safety cushion. He struggles for a hot minute, twisting, turning, and bucking to fight her off, but eventually gives up. She’s too well calibrated to budge. 

Instead, he allows his head to fall back onto the mat, emitting a low, achy groan that slowly molds into an impressed chuckle. “Fuck, that hurt.”

Y/N’s breathing is ragged, her brows itchy with sweat and eyes stinging. Most of her hair has found its was out of the carefully-crafted ponytail she’d pulled it into, tickling down her jaw and across her glistening cheekbones. “It was meant to.”

His fingers dissolve from the tight fists they were bound in, tapping against the plastic covering beneath them. His tongue swipes over his chapped lips as the edges coil into a sly, lascivious simper. “But you gotta admit, this is pretty hot."

Y/N tries to ignore the way he shifts his hips between her thighs, attempting to pray away the fact that his jogging shorts are made of a sports material so thin she can feel the chiseling of his pelvis beneath them. Her voice comes out throaty and slightly quivering, defeating any authority she’d inclined for it to carry. “Stop that.”

Harry’s eyebrows raise questioningly, expression one of fake clueless innocence as he pouts his lips in a mystified frown. “Stop what?”

His eyes dash down to where their bodies meet, then back up to meet her furrowed-brow glare. His hips begin to rub up against her harder.

“Cut it out.”

Harry softens his irises into a watery, pleading facade, quivering his lower lip dramatically. “But I’m getting close.”

“Idiot.” Y/N grumbles, dismounting now that it has been well over three seconds.

He carefully sits up, one hand resting along the area of his wounded ribs to ease them back into place (it’s a literal pain when things settle incorrectly— requires him having to rebreak the parts so they recover accordingly), the other palm propped flat on the floor behind him to help keep upright as everything heals. A warm surge undulates through his fractured bones and he can feel the pieces mending back together. 

Y/N is already at the edge of the practice mat, combing her hair neatly back from her face and tying it off tighter than before to ensure it doesn’t get in the way. It’s a simple action with no meaning behind it at all, but somehow, Harry finds it infuriatingly endearing. Her perfectionism is peeking through, obvious in the way she releases a soft exasperated growl when a few rebellious strands dance across her eyes. She takes down the entire do, raking her fingers through her locks once again (with a slight vengeance) and looping the neon tie-dye scrunchie around them with annoyed finality. Her hair obliges this time. 

She leans down and scoops the bo staffs into her palms, giving Harry’s one last fascinated once-over before rolling it across the ground in his direction. It thuds to a halt at his outer thigh, a muted holographic glint tennising between all the pretty jewels encapsulated in the tempered midnight glass. Harry wiggles his digits underneath his weapon, rolling it comfortably back and forth before using it to brace himself into a standing position. He hoists himself up with a strained grunt (not necessarily because it hurts, but moreso to guilt Y/N a tad for the hell of it) and twists his torso from side to side to make sure all the nuts and bolts have sifted into gear. 

He contemplates his girlfriend with a slow, conceited blink and the unmistakable twitch of his plump lips, the entire regard coated thick with shit-eating smugness. She avoids his gaze by glancing down at one of the ridges in the mat, willing her eyes to keep from flaring. 

The intense moment passes, Harry’s voice breaking through the atmosphere with a jesting complaint. “You broke a few ribs.”

She glimpses back up at him from under her lashes, taking in his casual demeanor as he leans against the pole easily, resting it snugly in the divet along the inside of his elbow. “And you dislocated my knee. Let’s call it even.” 

He runs his teeth across the length of his lower lip, pursing it and pairing the action with a thoughtful purr. “Fair enough.” 

Harry cocks his chin upwards, uncurling his index finger from the staff and making a come-ether motion. 

Y/N shuffles towards him, squeezing her rod anxiously. She stops about three feet in front of him, squaring her shoulders in order to mimic his nonchalant attitude. She’s well aware of the mental manipulation that goes into phasing out your opponent and she wants to let Harry know it won’t work on her.

He mulls her over for a second, then his mouth curves into a lopsided grin, dimples winking awake. “Last round, same rules.”

He holds out his bo staff before him for indication, both hands spaced evenly across the expanse. He taps the very center with his right thumb. “See that fine little line?” 

Y/N studies the crevice he’s signifying. “Yeah?”

In one swift, harsh motion, Harry slams the combat stick down against his knee and Y/N can’t help but jump at the abruptness. The pole snaps cleanly in two, her boyfriend holding up either pieces and shaking them lightly in the air. He goes about his explanation without a hitch. “You can split it into two.”

Y/N looks down at her own tool, running her thumbs down its waxy wooden surface until she feels the crease he’s referring to. “Got it.”

Harry reconnects the two halves, spinning the entire five foot staff over his hand, around his wrist, and finally into default combat position. It rests parallel against his hip, the top half diagonal to his stomach, both of his hands gripping it tightly. He bends down a few inches, feet planted expertly to distribute his weight evenly as he shrugs his brows knowingly. “You better start thinking of a good song to strip to.” 

Y/N assumes her own fighting stance, copying his but with her pole on the opposite side, its mass strangely comforting against the curve of her waist. “And you better get ready to clean Hemmy’s litter box for the next month.” 

The final round lasts longer than the first two and both combatants have multiple close calls, but one eventually comes up victor. Harry was the first to initiate this time. 

He had pounced, reeling his bo staff back and bringing it down towards Y/N at full velocity. The crack of the two sticks colliding scatters loudly along the walls of the apartment. 

Y/N isn’t a fan of staff technique fighting. She favors hand-to-hand, simply because there’s a stronger confidence in having direct skin contact with one’s combatant, as well as having the fighting constricted to close quarters. Closer engagement ensures that there will be no surprise attacks from anywhere, where as with the poles, the length of the weapon can’t be focused on all at once. She could be hit on the shoulder one second and have her feet taken out not even an inhale later. It requires quicker, keen impulses and rigid, acute blows. The combinations of attacks are endless and unpredictable until a heartbeat before they happen, and it demands a defense that is also an offense, so there is no time at all to pause and recoup. Not to mention the fact that the material of the staffs is cruelly solid, so impact packs five times the pain of a regular fist. 

It’s because of all of this— because of all of the limiting factors she’d encountered with this style of sport— that she had willed herself to become so good at it. It was what she practiced most whenever she sparred back home; she refuses to allow herself to be weak when it comes to protecting everything she’s ever known. Hatred is a valid catalyst for exceeding, and as much as she hates these stupid sticks, exceeding ranks higher in her priorities and it’s paid off in the long-run.

On the other end of the spectrum is Harry. He loves bo staff combat. Thrives in it. It was the form of battle that he picked up the quickest during his training and he favors it over everything else (except maybe blades). During his time in Hell, he knew nothing but agonizing anguish for fifty years. Nothing but continuous torture and abuse that seemed to rip his being to shreds, only for it to be sewn back together and demolished all over again. Once he did his time and was released from the punishment wing, he was less than ready to face all of the emotions that had been forcibly shoved to the back of his mind by the animalistic instinct to survive and persevere.

Fighting was the one place he could let it all out simultaneously, both the emotional and physical turmoil, and put to test the resilience he had gained. He excelled in all forms of hand-to-hand combat and breezed by knife-throwing as if he’d done it all his life, but bo staff warfare provided the challenge of soliciting coarse, brutal techniques with fine-tuned precision, grating accuracy, and accelerated speed responses. It was the perfect cocktail of exertion he needed to work through most of the shit he had been through, all while gaining him a name within the new community he was destined to join. He never personally saw it occur (or maybe he just doesn’t recall it considering specific instances from that time tend to blur together), but people tell him word got around enough that Lucifer himself came to watch one of his matches. 

All in all, the array of details is a way of emphasizing that this round was meant to be his even before it started. However, his confidence begins to shake as they escalate further into the fighting. 

Y/N is good— incredible, actually. Her technique, her timing, her strength and agility, the way she flows through her movements in such a graceful yet cut-throat manner. It all shows she’s had extensive experience in this field and she’s not holding back on showing it off. Every one of his attacks is met with a perfect counter and every one of his defenses is met with an assault of the same caliber. She looks amazing holding her own, brows cinched in extreme concentration and muscles taut as inhuman strength courses through them like a current. Her footwork is excellent, supporting her every motion with flawless balance, delivering strike after strike without a moment of hesitation. 

Harry has never met anyone he could confidently say leveled him in skill, and as cheesy and sappy and idiotic as it sounds, he thinks he’s finally found his match. If he wasn’t in love before, he’s mostly definitely neck-deep in it now.  

He’s lucky he’s practiced enough to multitask or else his dwellings would’ve gotten him knocked on his ass by now. His body had gone into a type of automated combat mode that relied purely on pattern experience and muscle memory, his mind focused partially on the sparring and partially on his thoughts. Harry manages to fully zone back into reality just in time to block an advance at his jaw. The obsidian glass of his pole clacks forcefully against the smoothed red oak of Y/N’s, mere centimeters from his face. 

He goes cross-eyed to look at the staff and then looks past it to the assailant wielding it. “Did you really have to go for the face?”  

Y/N doesn’t respond, yanking her staff back and swinging it downwards towards his ankles, which he intercepts in a blur of glittering jewels. He twists her combat stick around his, attempting to force her into releasing it. She does, letting it fall from her left hand into her right, pulling it out from its cage and spinning her entire body, packing the motion with as much momentum as possible and aiming it for the middle of Harry’s torso. He just barely meets her blow, saving himself from getting the other side of his ribcage broken. Y/N pivots on her heel again, this time aiming for the junction between his neck and shoulder. It’s a sensitive point and should cripple him enough to get him down. 

Harry ducks, slamming the top half of his bo staff against his girlfriend’s stomach, hearing her exclaim on impact. He isn’t even able to celebrate finally getting in a hit because the next thing he knows, a searing ache ruptures across the top of his skull. His vision blurs into a dark red, the edges of his sight vignetting between purple and black. He drops to his hand and knees, ears ringing and teeth going numb. 

The room is spinning and he feels like he might throw up, but he’s stubborn. He rolls sideways on the mat, stopping on his stomach and clumsily hobbling up onto his feet. He blindly extends his staff before him as a defense mechanism, blinking rapidly in an attempt to dissolve the red from his surroundings. He’s faced worse, and frankly, he deserves it after the way he crippled her in the first round. 

Through the hazy curtain washing over his mind, he’s able to focus in on Y/N, who is edging towards him carefully with her pole poised. He works his injury to his angle, pretending to be worse off than he actually is by shaking his head as if trying to regain his bearings. When Y/N is within jumping distance, he launches, taking her by surprise and smacking along the lower half of her sternum. She staggers back, using her pole to keep from tripping, leaving her unprotected. His combat stick finds its way into the left side of her waist, causing her to bend over at the force. Harry steps past her, looking over his shoulder and getting an idea. 

The weapon comes down flat, swatting Y/N right across her backside. 

She yelps out in angered alarm, hands flying to her throbbing bum as she jumps forward a couple of feet, whizzing around with indignation pinching her face. Harry’s eyes flit black as he sticks his tongue out in an open-mouthed smirk, wagging his head tauntingly.

An infuriated snarl rumbles in the back of Y/N’s throat, her limbs acting out of their own accord. She unclasps the two halves of her combat stick over her knee as Harry had before, the ring of color that hugs her irises illuminating itself with a blinding celeste hue. 

He just can’t keep the stereotypical asshole comment to himself, uttering it through a provoking simper. “You look hot when you’re mad.” 

When her next swing comes down, it easily packs the strength of a hundred men. 

Y/N advances on Harry with no remorse, her hits strong and curt, clean-cut and precise. She’s getting in consistent blows now that she has more ammunition, bruising his left shoulder and swelling his right thigh. Her two halves come down at him at once, concentrated toward his chest, and he intercepts with the center of his pole. The brunt of the clash fulfills the purpose Harry had intended, snapping his single staff into its secondary form. 

He twirls each twin piece over the back of his hand, feeling them settle into his cupped fingers snugly. “That’s more like it.” 

They go back and forth for what Harry dubs to be about a minute or two, the sharp clacking of the surfaces biting into the sweat-tinged air. He’s thankful bruises heal almost immediately after inflected or else he’d be purple and blue from head to toe. He’s growing bored and achey of the round, well aware of the fact that since Y/N equals him in skill, the match could go on for hours and he has to work in less than three. 

Not to mention, he hasn’t even had breakfast yet and he can practically hear an omelette calling his name. Maybe with some French toast and homemade lemonade...Fuck, that’d be perfect. 

He still has to take Onyx and Nimbus out for a their daily morning lap around the park nearby. He has to get there early lest he run into that fitness coach with the annoying Doberman that has some weird grudge against his dogs. And now that he recalls, he owes Dylan a coffee for that bet he’d lost over one of his trainees losing a match to another. That’d take at least ten minutes considering how busy Starbucks is in the morning, and that doesn’t include how long it takes them to make the drink due to Dylan’s peculiar (and annoyingly moronic) tastes.

Harry’s daydreaming is what teeters the fight into its end. His lack of focus leads him into making a mistake that is theatrically ironic. 

After deflecting a hit to his jugular, he groups both ends of his pole above his head, bringing them down towards his girlfriend without any real target other than to just plant a hit somewhere. He knew she would block it and he figured he’d use that millisecond window to slam her backward, hopefully with enough give to render her onto her rear. 

However, that is not how it goes down at all.

Instead of hindering the collision with the flat side of both her rungs, Y/N crosses her forearms diagonally before her, both of Harry’s wrists ending up wedged between them. It’s the same exact move he’d used on her to win the first round. 

Y/N quirks her eyebrows up at her opponent mockingly, voice thick with sarcastically satisfied amusement. “Oops.”

She swiftly rotates her arms clockwise, Harry’s trapped wrists following suit and twisting his arms roughly sideways. This gives Y/N the perfect way in, using the butt of one of her rods and striking it across his cheekbone. Harry staggers back, flailing his weapons loosely as he tries to keep from collapsing. Y/N dives forward, her staffs connecting with the back of Harry’s hands, forcing him to release his tools out of nerve-induced impulse. 

After she’s disarmed him, she directs a flat-footed kick to his abdomen, right between his ferns tattoos. The strength behind the gesture sends a vibration up the knobs of her bones, so she can only imagine how it must’ve felt to him. Harry’s feet leave the ground unintentionally for the first time during the entire match as he flies back, the nearest wall so kindly cushioning his fall. He slides down the surface, the matte paint burning the skin of his elbows until his body settles onto the mat. He immediately attempts to regain his footing, but is stopped short on his knees.

The end of a combat stick hovers a few inches in front of his nose, a sweaty, heavy-breathed Y/N looming down upon him from behind it, eyes gleaming— literally— with cocksure victory. “Stay down unless you want a matching bruise on the other side of your face.” 

Harry’s chest shallowly heaves a count of three, then his eyes string upwards from the circular flat face of the bo staff to lock with his girlfriend’s. He teeths the corner of his bottom lip as it jolts with the ghost of an aroused, awed simper. “I quite enjoy being on my knees, anyways.”

Y/N’s pole rattles against the ground.

She keens over, palms resting on her knees as she gulps down air like she can’t get enough of it. Harry sits back on his heels, back flushed with the wall to support himself, head thunking against it hollowly. He hasn’t felt this exhausted since his first ever training session all those centuries back. 

Sweat mazes its way down his throbbing temples and across the veins chiseled into his neck, following the curve of his collarbones and tickling its way down the valley of his chest. All he can get out is a low, scratchy, “Fucking hell...” and his throat goes sore with the effort. 

Y/N throws her head back in fatigue, groaning softly as every muscle in her body complains at the motion. A weak, giddy smile dances its way across her warm cheeks. “I won.”

Harry sighs grandly in defeat, wincing lightly as the movement irritates the fracture he knows is running the length of his cheekbone. “Give credit where it’s due. That final move was mine, so you’re welcome.” 

He sticks out his hand as a post-fight symbol of good will, wiggling his fingers when she stares at it cautiously. “C’mon, I won’t bite. No dirty play, remember?”

Y/N takes Harry’s hand and the conjoined pair shake out a final truce. She then rests down onto her knees, crawling across the mat to take the spot beside him. As her back nests again the wall, she feels a mixture of both relief and disgust. Relief because the surface is nice and cool, which works wonders for her overheating body. Disgust because the wall flattens her t-shirt against her skin and she can feel the cotton soaking up all the sweat as it sticks to her like glue. 

She lulls her head over to Harry, who is dabbing at the big green and purple shiner that she’d slashed across his face. Now that the fight is over and her brain has gradually waned off of the cruel adrenalin that had been fueling her strength, guilt starts settling in. “Sorry about that.” 

Harry cranes his neck in her direction, gifting her a tender smile that she knows probably hurts. “S’okay, it’s already healing. Plus, I had a good time. Was fun.”

Y/N playfully bumps his shoulder with her own. “Not as fun as it’s gonna be to watch you clean up cat feces for the next month.” 

“Still can’t believe that’s what you chose.” Harry mumbles, reaching up and releasing his damp curls from the tiny ponytail atop his head, slipping the hair-tie over his wrist and shaking out his stringy locks.

Y/N rolls her eyes dismissively. “I’m sorry I’m not constantly thinking about filth like you do. Some of us have control.” 

One of Harry’s eyebrows jumps up challengingly. “Oh? You have control, y’say?” 

“Absolutely.”

“Well, then, I guess you won’t mind.”

He proceeds to grab the back of his drenched muscle tank, yanking it over his head and balling it up into a crumpled mess, using it wipe down his face. 

Y/N shrugs without worry. “Go ahead. I’ve seen you without your shirt plenty of times.”

“Yeah, you have. But...” His hands trails along the ground in the space that lays between them, his index finger tracing along her left outer thigh. “It’s different when I’m covered in sweat, muscles all tight right after a workout.”

Y/N hesitantly glances over at Harry, taking in the way his strong, thick chest is rising and falling rhythmically, glistening with a sheen of water that makes his lightly tanned skin look like gold porcelain. The ink stains ripples as his tendons contract and release, biceps flexing temptingly. 

Y/N swallows down the dryness in her throat, running the back of her wrist along the pearls of sweat itching her brows. “Makes no difference to me.”

Harry looks down upon her from over his shoulder, eyes flickering black for a second, her reflection painted across the glass-like surface of the dark hue. “Then why are you ogling?”

She scoffs incredulously, but can’t stop herself from looking away in embarrassment. Her voice is a begrudging grumble. “I wasn’t ogling.” 

“Right. You were just staring profusely. My mistake.” 

“Dickhead.”

Harry’s tongue glosses over his front teeth, pressing against the inside of his cheek, his expression one of pompous entertainment at being able to get her so flustered. He scoots a bit closer to her until their legs are touching, leaning forward to try and catch her attention. “For what it’s worth, I was doing my fair share of ogling, too.”  

The comment is enough to fish her consideration. 

Y/N’s vision flits to him, full of confused curiosity. “When? I’ve been fully dressed the whole time?”

Harry sways his head at her incorrect assumption, hand sneaking its way fully onto her leg. “It has nothing to do with nudity, though I won’t object if you decide to go that route.”

She ignores his suggestion. “Then what is it?”

The pads of his digits dig into the suppleness of her thigh, squeezing once testingly, tingling with glee when she doesn’t swat him away. “When you we were fighting just now. Your skills are incredible.” 

Y/N blinks at him blankly. “What part of me looking sweaty and busted was attractive to you?” 

Harry’s forefinger maps his name over her clothed skin, the cursive big and loopy, gentle and feathery. “The part where you showed such confident ease and deadly perfection.”

He halts the tip of his finger halfway through his last name, right at the curve of the Y. His tone carries a reflective hazy fondness. “It was so fucking beautiful.” 

Y/N is intrigued in the way Harry can conjure something so outlandish as charming, but she can understand why he’d enjoy it. Demons have a warped sense of beauty. She finds herself pushing for more details, her interest wandering. “What was beautiful about it?”

His clouded jade irises meet her’s, appearing soft and admiring. “Everything. The way you moved with elegant delicacy, but somehow still made every hit dangerous. You hold your own really well, and that’s meaningful coming from me. Gotta love a girl who can beat your ass.”

Y/N laughs airily. “Yeah, I suppose.” 

Harry absentmindedly reaches up, cupping her chin between his thumb and index finger, rubbing over the faint dimple endearingly. The way he’s staring at her lips hungrily makes them buzz. “Fuck, I wish you could’ve seen yourself. It was so hot.”

She swallows thickly, her eyes glimpsing anxiously between his mouth and eyes, voice full of innocent wonder. “It was?”

Harry’s gaze flirts over the dip of the crescent along her upper lip, both of his own parting open smidge at the way the light hits its peaks alluringly. “Yeah, it was. Wanted to just drop to my knees right then and have you ride my face.”

Y/N’s breathing catches in her throat, thighs clenching unintentionally. 

His Cupid’s bow feathers over her’s, their foreheads knocking softly. The mood has shifted drastically, the air seeming to solidify inside her lungs as Harry’s low, melodic thrum of a voice paints itself with needy awe. “Wanted to just spread you out on this mat with my face between your thighs and your hands tangled in my hair. To feel you drip down my chin and wet the tops of my cheeks.”��

“Harry...” 

The word comes out as a desperate croak, begging him for something, though he’s not sure what. It can either be for him to stop, or for him to explicitly keep going. “Are you sure you don’t want to tie anything else into that prize?”

Y/N sighs shakily through her nose, eyelids drooping shut at the tension weighing in the atmosphere of the room. “Don’t tempt me.”

The snicker Harry releases is the ideal ratio of boyish giggle and arrogant chuckle. “M’afraid I have to. It’s kinda my profession and all.”

She wants to say no— wants to uphold the statement she had made about being modest enough not to include raunchiness into everything they do. Wants keep herself from giving in when she was always taught to fight off mindless desires. 

She tries to search for anything to put a halt to her deteriorating control. “Don’t you have a ton of stuff to do before you leave for work? Like breakfast and handling the dogs?”

The breath of his words is warm and gooey as it rolls over the fizzling skin of her lips. “I can grab something on the way, and Onyx and Nimbus can walk themselves. I just go to keep up appearances.” 

“In that case, it’s probably not a good idea to let them walk themselves, is it?”

Harry grabs Y/N by the collar of her borrowed tee, the sweaty fabric crinkling as he tugs her into a deep, wet kiss that is made up of desperate little whines and breathy whimpers. He murmurs into her mouth, his two front teeth claiming the center of her bottom lip. “You go with them later, then. Problem solved.” 

She tries to pull back (despite every fiber of her being telling her not to), fabricating any excuse that comes to mind. “They hate me.”

He yanks her back in, noses bumping as his tongue works to convince her. “No they don’t.”

Her strong will proceeds despite the prickling creeping down her neck and across her temples. “Yes they do.”

“Well, I don’t hate you and at the end of the day, isn’t that what matters?”

“That has absolutely nothing to do with—”

Y/N’s counter is cut short by Harry using his hold to swiftly jerk her into his lap, maneuvering her accordingly, her heels pressing into the sides of his calves as she straddles his thighs. He slides her forward until the close proximity forces her to balance onto her knees at either sides of his hips, his face level with her navel. His head rests back against the wall, eyes drunk on the way she’s perched above him, looking down over her burning cheeks. He wastes no time in putting their position into to good use, fingers perching at her waist and beginning to fiddle with the zipper of the compression shorts he’d lent her. 

“What about—”

“Why don’t you be a good girl and stay quiet.” He murmurs lowky, dragging the zipper all the way down and working on easing the nylon material down her sticky thighs, placing a slow, drawn-out peck to the swell of each hip. In all his decades of life, he’s well learned that it’s the subtle touches that work the biggest wonders.

“But—”

His lips smooth over her twitching tummy, biting it teasingly while his mouth moves over her heated skin as he forms his words, voice heavy and deep. “I said quiet, didn’t I?” 

Her panties are at full access now, the hem of the sports leggings resting right below the curve of her bum, and Harry can’t stop himself from smirking coyly at her choice of daisy and sunflower print. He stretches his neck, sticking out his tongue and giving a long lap at her over the underwear, the edges of his mouth carving upwards as he feels a hot flush of sudden dampness pool at the area over her clit. He glances up at her from beneath his long lashes, eyes electric with self-assured delight as he hums appreciatively in the back of his throat.  

Y/N’s fingers find their way into his tousled curls, holding his head between her thighs as she digs into his scalp, her sentences lodging in her throat. “We can’t— we shouldn’t. Y-You’ll be late for work and—”

Harry gives her another drawn out lick over the garment, flirting the tip of his tongue over the swollen little bud that lies at the thick of her crotch, savoring the way she shudders and writhes. His hands have migrated to grip her ass, keeping her in place as his face moves from side to side, tongue sloppily toying with her cunt and causing her to utterly ruin her favorite pair of undies.

“H-Harry, please. You’ll get in trouble—”

“For fuck’s sake, just shut up and let me make you cum.” 

[royal-confessions]

“Harry hasn't done anything out of character since he got married. Anybody that thinks that Meghan is manipulating him got fooled by his early PR. It was all "the playboy prince" - a cheeky, lovable rogue who despite his poor behaviour felt intense loyalty to the country (as shown by his devotion to the army and the crown.) He did his military service for sure but it's been clear as day that he has had issues with the royal life since his teens and his tune hasn't changed.” - Submitted by Anonymous

[reylo-on-the-side]

Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker and the Death of Romance

***** Contains spoilers, do not read if you have yet to watch the film *****

Having had a few days to think about TROS I can now coherently put into words everything that I did not appreciate about the film. This may read as if  I’m slamming the film, which is not my intention as I really enjoyed it, but there are some things which did not make sense for me, that did not add up, and my feelings for this film compared to the first two were lacking in places. In all, I did not get the sense of fulfillment and purpose you’re supposed to get at the end of a Star War’s saga, I feel quite empty and hollow and I have many questions which I feel should have been answered. 

I want to start with our closing scene where Rey, Poe and Finn are clinging to one another, happy that they’ve all made it through the last battle. This scene was wonderful and amazing because we have three best friends truly happy that they’re alive and together. But I did not feel the ‘joy’ I think I was meant to feel because I kept asking myself, what have these characters got to show for it at the end of the film? 

I’ll start with Finn. Oh glorious Finn! So many things were not answered about Finn. He’s broken free of the Republic and has gained freedom from his former stormtrooper life, but is this all we can say? Finn is clearly force-sensitive, displaying many moments of force awareness throughout the film. He has previously held and fought with a light saber, and in addition to this, he was able to pinpoint where the signal was coming from in the penultimate battle (TROS) and he knew the exact moment when Rey died on Exogul because he felt it (he didn’t have to say, we saw it on his heartbroken face!) So the big question is, was this what Finn wanted to tell Rey when they were sinking into the quicksands and moments from death? Did he want to tell her that he understood, because he was strong with the force too? Or was it simply (others speculate) that he wanted to tell her he loved her? Finn had a potential romance with Rose, but his feelings for her are platonic and so his romance arc is abandoned in this film. Does he have feelings for Poe instead? The pair are close and there is chemistry between them. If Finn does have feelings for Poe, then perhaps he was going to tell Rey he was force-sensitive.

The fact is we don’t know because the opportunity is lost, but it must have been heavy-going because Finn couldn’t say what he wanted to say in front of Poe (later on).This makes me think that Finn wanted to tell Rey that he loved her. While we know Rey doesn’t share these feelings for Finn, the unasked question still floats to the forefront of Finn’s storyline. He has found love among friends in the saga, but not romantic love, and we kind of get the feeling that this is what he is looking for, otherwise there wouldn’t have been this unasked question in the first place. The closing scene of Finn with his two best friends was just shrouded in unfinished story for me, and I felt that Finn (assuming this saga is well and truly at a close) should have had his moment to say those words to Rey. If it wasn’t a big deal and relevant to his story arc, then why even give it screen time? Coming through a war after untold hardships at the hands of the Republic, our guy Finn really did deserve more. 

Moving onto Poe, our lovable rogue. Seeing him at the end of the film is such a relief, but when I asked myself the question, what was Poe’s story arc for, I couldn’t actually give anyone an answer! He’s always been a drifter, and has fallen into the resistance as easily as falling into bed. But what does he want? What is he going to do now? Is he going to go back to being a spice trader? I can hardly imagine this after seeing him standing alongside General Leia Organa for the whole trilogy.

In terms of backstory and romance, we find out a little more about Poe’s former life as a spice trader, and the film hints at a relationship between himself and a former companion, Zorii Bliss during their time on Kijimi. But despite Zorii giving Poe her master key to gain him guaranteed entry out of Kijimi, the close of the film demonstrates that all ships have sailed between them and there is no future, at least romantically, for the pair. So Poe won’t be settling down with her anytime soon and living a quieter life. So what then? 

I kind of feel that after everything, there should be an assurance for our closest and much-loved characters at the close of any saga, otherwise we cannot say what their struggles were for, what they were fighting for. Yes, they are all alive and living freely, but is this enough? In a franchise like star wars which reads very much as a fairytale, ‘a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away,’ then yes, these stories are meant to end ‘they all live happily ever after,’ and with that usually comes a guaranteed romantic future for our lead characters. Romance certainly isn’t everything within a film, and Star Wars films notoriously feature a tragic romance of some sort, but there are also moments where romance triumphs - Han Solo and Leia Organa. 

It is here that I’d like to mention Rose (poor girl) who went from being a main character in The Last Jedi to a glorified extra in The Rise of Skywalker. I think Rose had about five lines of dialogue which is absolutely staggering after the heart-breaking loss of her sister, and her unrequited love for Finn. It’s another instance where romance is dropped like a hot cake, and I cannot help but feel like the writers have serious chips on their shoulders where romance is concerned. It’s also another example of how a (formerly) leading character had her story arc dropped for unknown reasons - is Rose happy? Has she found a new family? Are her and Finn still close? (she was not present in the group hug at the films close) so where is she now? What will she do? It’s frustrating that someone so instrumental in the destruction of Canto Bight and such a powerhouse in the second film is not given any thought in the saga’s sequel. 

Thanks to Rose we even have a message which underscores so many actions of characters throughout the saga. She tells Finn they will win the war not by ‘fighting what we hate, but by saving what we love,’ which heralds the absolutely heart-rending final moments between our Alderan Prince, Kylo Ren, now Ben Solo and our heroine, Rey. 

What can I even say about this pair which hasn’t been said already? Absolutely needless. When I hark back to the film’s close of Rey, Finn and Poe holding one another, what was the point of Rey’s storyline, of her sacrifices? Rey is paper-thin at the film’s close. How much more can one person give? Rey lost her family, then she lost Luke, then she lost Leia, and then she loses the only boy she loved and perhaps ever will love? While she is now a trained Jedi and has the answers to the mystery of her family abandoning her on Jacoo, is this enough? Rey seemingly ends the saga in the same way she began, a lone hermit, living in isolation, in the ruins of the former world, utterly alone on a godforsaken desert planet. Is this a fair trade after everything she has been through? Even with the answers about her heritage and her parents true identities  (sorry but what a shoddily shoved-in backstory) I don’t think this is enough. I felt as empty and broken as she did at the films closure. 

How do I feel about Rey being a Palpatine? Nothing whatsoever. I’m waiting for a heroine who literally comes from nothing, who is literally no one, whose worthless parents really were ‘filthy junk traders who sold her for drinking money.’ I much preferred this to be the case, rather than actually - you’re a Palpatine! Why can’t a heroine be born to nothing and rise to greatness, why does power have to come hand-in-hand with an age-old name which is whispered with fear? And Palpatine? We get a crusty bin bag flailing around on a crane hook, a complete shade of this former Sith self. After the big reveal, I spent the rest of the film reeling about the thought that someone actually had sexual relations with him (very reminiscent of Voldemort and Bellatrix in Harry Potter and the Cursed Child). Perhaps we should have seen it coming, Disney have a penchant for bad romances (Descendants). But villains having babies in Star Wars, when it’s clear from the former films that  Palpatine has no romantic inclinations whatsoever, I didn’t appreciate the reveal for what it was. 

And finally I’d like to say a few things about someone who is absent from the friend huddle at the close of the film - probably the most dynamic and interesting star wars character the sagas have graced us with - Kylo Ren / Ben Solo. What a tragic story. 

The film reveals that Ben and Rey are dyad, which is as strong a connection you can have with anyone in the universe. They are two sides of the same coin, their life lines interwoven like a tapestry, almost the one and the same person, ying and yang, soulmates - all of the other terms we can think of. More to the point, the pair are equals, in terms of life experiences, strength, personality and capabilities. 

Rey and Ben seemingly begin as opposites, light and dark, good and evil. As the films progress, it becomes clear that this is not the case. Ben has the capacity for love, tenderness, peace and rationality, just as much as Rey has the capacity for hatred, violence, war and irrationality. When we watch the pair react across multiple scenes, many of Rey’s reactions are not kin with being a Jedi. When she finds out about Palpatine killing her parents, her immediate instinct is to find him and kill him. Is this a Jedi reaction? No. It is human. The same emotions which led Annakin Skywalker to butcher a whole tribe of sand people for the kidnapping and killing of his mother Shmi. 

At other points in the film, Rey demonstrates recklessness, taking a skimmer out into uncertain waters against the advice of others, putting her life at risk. She is impatient, impulsive and driven by revenge in the same way Kylo Ren is demonised for. And let us not forget the fight scene in the ruins of the former Deathstar, when her and Kylo Ren grapple with one another and try to best eachother’s force ability with their sabers. When I rewatch this scene, it is very clear that Kylo is not striking to kill. His movements are actually very defensive, he’s letting Rey take her fury out on him and he isn’t on the offensive at all. There are several moments he could have easily killed Rey, and it isn’t until the final moment when Rey is on the ground that he moves to make a kill, and Leia’s intervention stops him. What is absolutely staggering is when Kylo is disarmed by his mother’s intervention, Rey doesn’t stop. She takes up Kylo’s saber and stabs him with it, literally striking him down in hatred, which is not what Jedi are meant to do. Think of all the instances where Vader and Palaptine (previous films) goad Jedi into ‘striking them down,’ so they can ‘feel their hate.’ Rey’s actions allude to her failing of being a true Jedi and actually taking life. Yes, Rey does heal Kylo Ren, or Ben as he has now become. But does this action atone for her attempting to destroy him in the first place? We can argues this both ways, but I think we could only argue that it does atone for her actions, if at the films closure, Ben’s healing of Rey was enough to atone for his. 

Ben comes back from absolute damnation. He rejects Kylo Ren, throws his saber into the sea and makes peace with his father Han Solo. He then storms into Palpatine’s palace with nothing but a blaster (very reminiscent of his father) and comes to the aid of Rey. Incredible fight scene aside, when Ben heals Rey in the same way she healed him, this should have atoned for all of Ben’s previous sins, in the same way that Rey’s healing of Kylo did for her. But this does not happen, instead we have to face the heart-crushing truth that Ben dies giving Rey his life force, and while a Jedi, his happy ending with the girl he loves is withheld from him, from Rey and from us. 

This is where the film failed for me, and the over-arching message of redemption and forgiveness just fizzled into nothing. The simple fact is that Ben and Rey did not get the same treatment. Slowly, over the course of the film, Rey strays from the ‘light’ and becomes a shade of grey. Ben mirrors this, straying from the ‘dark’ towards the light and becoming his own shade of grey. And yet only one of them walks away from the penultimate war. 

I have described the reasons I find this unfair from Rey’s side - her character traits, her previous actions, so I will now approach this from Ben’s side. Ben has had an equally, unhappy childhood, as lonely and estranged as Rey had. He was sent into Jedi training at a young age, leading to feelings of not being loved by his parents Ben and Leia. It is clear from previous films that Han was ‘not around’ for son and off doing what Han does best. Leia was still a general, and it’s safe to say that while she loved her son, he did not, or would not ever had had her attentions. So Ben is sent away to his Uncle to train as a Jedi, already feeling worthless in his parents eyes, and unloved. He expects to be treated as a nephew by his Uncle Luke, who does not warm to him at all. Luke treats Ben Solo with the same distance as a teacher does any student, and so Ben does not find familial love here either. He is then betrayed by Luke, which all comes to the surface in The Last Jedi. 

Luke feared Ben Solo’s power, and seeing his potential, decides to kill him (I love how Leia never finds out about this) if she had I’m pretty sure she’d have more to say to her brother. Luke then blames Ben Solo for the destruction of the Jedi temple and turns all of his other students against Ben. Luke never really gets punished for these acts (I never forgave him, not even for his attempts in the film to placate Kylo). During all of this, Snoke becomes a personal influence on Ben Solo, playing on Ben’s loneliness, feelings of worthlessness, and slowly turning Ben towards the dark. And can you blame Ben for saying yes, and wanting a friend? I can’t blame him at all. 

Kylo’s attempts to be his Grandfather are born from wanting to identify with someone in his family, to have a feeling of belonging. And like Annakin Skywalker, Kylo Ren is plagued by doubt. When he kills Han Solo, he never really walks away from his father. He is consumed by guilt and self-loathing which twists him even further, and pushes him down the path to the dark-side when in actual fact he doesn’t want to go there - he feels he has no choice. His parents rejected him, and he feels all he can do is more to make them reject him further. And yet when he has the chance, he does not kill his mother, Leia. He finds himself reaching out to Rey, drawn to her loneliness and isolation, and wanting to be there for her. Despite all of his deeds, his ability to have restraint, to be understanding, to be gentle, never fade away. Like Rey, as the films progress, he becomes his own shade of grey. 

For this reason, I cannot accept the closure of The Rise of Skywalker. All three films have pointed to the connection between Rey and Ben, of their absolute compatibility, of their being one another’s match in every way possible. They were supposed to bring balance to the force, and if they were truly equal, how can they bring balance to the force if one of them dies?! It make’s no sense. Especially as I’ve pointed out when Rey heals Ben, it somehow washes her clean, and yet when Ben heals Rey, it costs him is life! 

Yes, before Ben dies they share a wonderful kiss, and each of them find the ‘belonging’ which has been promised to them at earlier instances in the saga. But is knowing you have found your one true love enough at the end? Thinking of Han and Leia’s sacrifices, of their deaths, along with the tragic history of the skywalker family, I cannot accept that Ben’s death was deserved. His parents wanted him to ‘come home,’ and have a life, they absolutely wanted the best for him. Ben was an extraordinary character, with an incredible story arc, and as someone who has experienced such tragedy, to come through it and redeem themselves, it is very uncharacteristic and anti-star wars for them to not have their happy ending. 

So when the film closes on Rey, Finn and Poe, with Ben absent and Rose no where to be seen, I did not have closure, I did not have fulfillment and I did not feel like I had reached the end of a Star Wars chapter. I honestly feel like I’ve ripped the film to shreds and that was not my intention. I’m a huge star wars fan and thoroughly enjoyed the film, but the decisions the writers have made - for me - are very jarring with the true message inherent within the star wars franchise. 

I cannot put my finger on the message the writers were trying to get across with this final film. It clearly isn’t ‘love conquers all,’ or ‘the faithful will be rewarded,’ or anything close. There are unanswered questions, abandoned story arcs, and the shot of Rey staring at the sunsets on Tattoine only served to say that being a Jedi is awful, everyone you care about dies, your life will be hard and lonely - but hey - you get a funky gold light saber! 

[setnamora]

Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker and the Death of Romance

***** Contains spoilers, do not read if you have yet to watch the film *****

Having had a few days to think about TROS I can now coherently put into words everything that I did not appreciate about the film. This may read as if  I’m slamming the film, which is not my intention as I really enjoyed it, but there are some things which did not make sense for me, that did not add up, and my feelings for this film compared to the first two were lacking in places. In all, I did not get the sense of fulfillment and purpose you’re supposed to get at the end of a Star War’s saga, I feel quite empty and hollow and I have many questions which I feel should have been answered.

I want to start with our closing scene where Rey, Poe and Finn are clinging to one another, happy that they’ve all made it through the last battle. This scene was wonderful and amazing because we have three best friends truly happy that they’re alive and together. But I did not feel the ‘joy’ I think I was meant to feel because I kept asking myself, what have these characters got to show for it at the end of the film?

I’ll start with Finn. Oh glorious Finn! So many things were not answered about Finn. He’s broken free of the Republic and has gained freedom from his former stormtrooper life, but is this all we can say? Finn is clearly force-sensitive, displaying many moments of force awareness throughout the film. He has previously held and fought with a light saber, and in addition to this, he was able to pinpoint where the signal was coming from in the penultimate battle (TROS) and he knew the exact moment when Rey died on Exogul because he felt it (he didn’t have to say, we saw it on his heartbroken face!) So the big question is, was this what Finn wanted to tell Rey when they were sinking into the quicksands and moments from death? Did he want to tell her that he understood, because he was strong with the force too? Or was it simply (others speculate) that he wanted to tell her he loved her? Finn had a potential romance with Rose, but his feelings for her are platonic and so his romance arc is abandoned in this film. Does he have feelings for Poe instead? The pair are close and there is chemistry between them. If Finn does have feelings for Poe, then perhaps he was going to tell Rey he was force-sensitive.

The fact is we don’t know because the opportunity is lost, but it must have been heavy-going because Finn couldn’t say what he wanted to say in front of Poe (later on).This makes me think that Finn wanted to tell Rey that he loved her. While we know Rey doesn’t share these feelings for Finn, the unasked question still floats to the forefront of Finn’s storyline. He has found love among friends in the saga, but not romantic love, and we kind of get the feeling that this is what he is looking for, otherwise there wouldn’t have been this unasked question in the first place. The closing scene of Finn with his two best friends was just shrouded in unfinished story for me, and I felt that Finn (assuming this saga is well and truly at a close) should have had his moment to say those words to Rey. If it wasn’t a big deal and relevant to his story arc, then why even give it screen time? Coming through a war after untold hardships at the hands of the Republic, our guy Finn really did deserve more.

Moving onto Poe, our lovable rogue. Seeing him at the end of the film is such a relief, but when I asked myself the question, what was Poe’s story arc for, I couldn’t actually give anyone an answer! He’s always been a drifter, and has fallen into the resistance as easily as falling into bed. But what does he want? What is he going to do now? Is he going to go back to being a spice trader? I can hardly imagine this after seeing him standing alongside General Leia Organa for the whole trilogy.

In terms of backstory and romance, we find out a little more about Poe’s former life as a spice trader, and the film hints at a relationship between himself and a former companion, Zorii Bliss during their time on Kijimi. But despite Zorii giving Poe her master key to gain him guaranteed entry out of Kijimi, the close of the film demonstrates that all ships have sailed between them and there is no future, at least romantically, for the pair. So Poe won’t be settling down with her anytime soon and living a quieter life. So what then?

I kind of feel that after everything, there should be an assurance for our closest and much-loved characters at the close of any saga, otherwise we cannot say what their struggles were for, what they were fighting for. Yes, they are all alive and living freely, but is this enough? In a franchise like star wars which reads very much as a fairytale, ‘a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away,’ then yes, these stories are meant to end ‘they all live happily ever after,’ and with that usually comes a guaranteed romantic future for our lead characters. Romance certainly isn’t everything within a film, and Star Wars films notoriously feature a tragic romance of some sort, but there are also moments where romance triumphs - Han Solo and Leia Organa.

It is here that I’d like to mention Rose (poor girl) who went from being a main character in The Last Jedi to a glorified extra in The Rise of Skywalker. I think Rose had about five lines of dialogue which is absolutely staggering after the heart-breaking loss of her sister, and her unrequited love for Finn. It’s another instance where romance is dropped like a hot cake, and I cannot help but feel like the writers have serious chips on their shoulders where romance is concerned. It’s also another example of how a (formerly) leading character had her story arc dropped for unknown reasons - is Rose happy? Has she found a new family? Are her and Finn still close? (she was not present in the group hug at the films close) so where is she now? What will she do? It’s frustrating that someone so instrumental in the destruction of Canto Bight and such a powerhouse in the second film is not given any thought in the saga’s sequel.

Thanks to Rose we even have a message which underscores so many actions of characters throughout the saga. She tells Finn they will win the war not by ‘fighting what we hate, but by saving what we love,’ which heralds the absolutely heart-rending final moments between our Alderan Prince, Kylo Ren, now Ben Solo and our heroine, Rey.

What can I even say about this pair which hasn’t been said already? Absolutely needless. When I hark back to the film’s close of Rey, Finn and Poe holding one another, what was the point of Rey’s storyline, of her sacrifices? Rey is paper-thin at the film’s close. How much more can one person give? Rey lost her family, then she lost Luke, then she lost Leia, and then she loses the only boy she loved and perhaps ever will love? While she is now a trained Jedi and has the answers to the mystery of her family abandoning her on Jacoo, is this enough? Rey seemingly ends the saga in the same way she began, a lone hermit, living in isolation, in the ruins of the former world, utterly alone on a godforsaken desert planet. Is this a fair trade after everything she has been through? Even with the answers about her heritage and her parents true identities  (sorry but what a shoddily shoved-in backstory) I don’t think this is enough. I felt as empty and broken as she did at the films closure.

How do I feel about Rey being a Palpatine? Nothing whatsoever. I’m waiting for a heroine who literally comes from nothing, who is literally no one, whose worthless parents really were ‘filthy junk traders who sold her for drinking money.’ I much preferred this to be the case, rather than actually - you’re a Palpatine! Why can’t a heroine be born to nothing and rise to greatness, why does power have to come hand-in-hand with an age-old name which is whispered with fear? And Palpatine? We get a crusty bin bag flailing around on a crane hook, a complete shade of this former Sith self. After the big reveal, I spent the rest of the film reeling about the thought that someone actually had sexual relations with him (very reminiscent of Voldemort and Bellatrix in Harry Potter and the Cursed Child). Perhaps we should have seen it coming, Disney have a penchant for bad romances (Descendants). But villains having babies in Star Wars, when it’s clear from the former films that  Palpatine has no romantic inclinations whatsoever, I didn’t appreciate the reveal for what it was.

And finally I’d like to say a few things about someone who is absent from the friend huddle at the close of the film - probably the most dynamic and interesting star wars character the sagas have graced us with - Kylo Ren / Ben Solo. What a tragic story.

The film reveals that Ben and Rey are dyad, which is as strong a connection you can have with anyone in the universe. They are two sides of the same coin, their life lines interwoven like a tapestry, almost the one and the same person, ying and yang, soulmates - all of the other terms we can think of. More to the point, the pair are equals, in terms of life experiences, strength, personality and capabilities.

Rey and Ben seemingly begin as opposites, light and dark, good and evil. As the films progress, it becomes clear that this is not the case. Ben has the capacity for love, tenderness, peace and rationality, just as much as Rey has the capacity for hatred, violence, war and irrationality. When we watch the pair react across multiple scenes, many of Rey’s reactions are not kin with being a Jedi. When she finds out about Palpatine killing her parents, her immediate instinct is to find him and kill him. Is this a Jedi reaction? No. It is human. The same emotions which led Annakin Skywalker to butcher a whole tribe of sand people for the kidnapping and killing of his mother Shmi.

At other points in the film, Rey demonstrates recklessness, taking a skimmer out into uncertain waters against the advice of others, putting her life at risk. She is impatient, impulsive and driven by revenge in the same way Kylo Ren is demonised for. And let us not forget the fight scene in the ruins of the former Deathstar, when her and Kylo Ren grapple with one another and try to best eachother’s force ability with their sabers. When I rewatch this scene, it is very clear that Kylo is not striking to kill. His movements are actually very defensive, he’s letting Rey take her fury out on him and he isn’t on the offensive at all. There are several moments he could have easily killed Rey, and it isn’t until the final moment when Rey is on the ground that he moves to make a kill, and Leia’s intervention stops him. What is absolutely staggering is when Kylo is disarmed by his mother’s intervention, Rey doesn’t stop. She takes up Kylo’s saber and stabs him with it, literally striking him down in hatred, which is not what Jedi are meant to do. Think of all the instances where Vader and Palaptine (previous films) goad Jedi into ‘striking them down,’ so they can ‘feel their hate.’ Rey’s actions allude to her failing of being a true Jedi and actually taking life. Yes, Rey does heal Kylo Ren, or Ben as he has now become. But does this action atone for her attempting to destroy him in the first place? We can argues this both ways, but I think we could only argue that it does atone for her actions, if at the films closure, Ben’s healing of Rey was enough to atone for his.

Ben comes back from absolute damnation. He rejects Kylo Ren, throws his saber into the sea and makes peace with his father Han Solo. He then storms into Palpatine’s palace with nothing but a blaster (very reminiscent of his father) and comes to the aid of Rey. Incredible fight scene aside, when Ben heals Rey in the same way she healed him, this should have atoned for all of Ben’s previous sins, in the same way that Rey’s healing of Kylo did for her. But this does not happen, instead we have to face the heart-crushing truth that Ben dies giving Rey his life force, and while a Jedi, his happy ending with the girl he loves is withheld from him, from Rey and from us.

This is where the film failed for me, and the over-arching message of redemption and forgiveness just fizzled into nothing. The simple fact is that Ben and Rey did not get the same treatment. Slowly, over the course of the film, Rey strays from the ‘light’ and becomes a shade of grey. Ben mirrors this, straying from the ‘dark’ towards the light and becoming his own shade of grey. And yet only one of them walks away from the penultimate war.

I have described the reasons I find this unfair from Rey’s side - her character traits, her previous actions, so I will now approach this from Ben’s side. Ben has had an equally, unhappy childhood, as lonely and estranged as Rey had. He was sent into Jedi training at a young age, leading to feelings of not being loved by his parents Ben and Leia. It is clear from previous films that Han was ‘not around’ for son and off doing what Han does best. Leia was still a general, and it’s safe to say that while she loved her son, he did not, or would not ever had had her attentions. So Ben is sent away to his Uncle to train as a Jedi, already feeling worthless in his parents eyes, and unloved. He expects to be treated as a nephew by his Uncle Luke, who does not warm to him at all. Luke treats Ben Solo with the same distance as a teacher does any student, and so Ben does not find familial love here either. He is then betrayed by Luke, which all comes to the surface in The Last Jedi.

Luke feared Ben Solo’s power, and seeing his potential, decides to kill him (I love how Leia never finds out about this) if she had I’m pretty sure she’d have more to say to her brother. Luke then blames Ben Solo for the destruction of the Jedi temple and turns all of his other students against Ben. Luke never really gets punished for these acts (I never forgave him, not even for his attempts in the film to placate Kylo). During all of this, Snoke becomes a personal influence on Ben Solo, playing on Ben’s loneliness, feelings of worthlessness, and slowly turning Ben towards the dark. And can you blame Ben for saying yes, and wanting a friend? I can’t blame him at all.

Kylo’s attempts to be his Grandfather are born from wanting to identify with someone in his family, to have a feeling of belonging. And like Annakin Skywalker, Kylo Ren is plagued by doubt. When he kills Han Solo, he never really walks away from his father. He is consumed by guilt and self-loathing which twists him even further, and pushes him down the path to the dark-side when in actual fact he doesn’t want to go there - he feels he has no choice. His parents rejected him, and he feels all he can do is more to make them reject him further. And yet when he has the chance, he does not kill his mother, Leia. He finds himself reaching out to Rey, drawn to her loneliness and isolation, and wanting to be there for her. Despite all of his deeds, his ability to have restraint, to be understanding, to be gentle, never fade away. Like Rey, as the films progress, he becomes his own shade of grey.

For this reason, I cannot accept the closure of The Rise of Skywalker. All three films have pointed to the connection between Rey and Ben, of their absolute compatibility, of their being one another’s match in every way possible. They were supposed to bring balance to the force, and if they were truly equal, how can they bring balance to the force if one of them dies?! It make’s no sense. Especially as I’ve pointed out when Rey heals Ben, it somehow washes her clean, and yet when Ben heals Rey, it costs him is life!

Yes, before Ben dies they share a wonderful kiss, and each of them find the ‘belonging’ which has been promised to them at earlier instances in the saga. But is knowing you have found your one true love enough at the end? Thinking of Han and Leia’s sacrifices, of their deaths, along with the tragic history of the skywalker family, I cannot accept that Ben’s death was deserved. He was an extraordinary character, with an incredible story arc, and as someone who has experienced such tragedy, to come through it and redeem themselves, it is very uncharacteristic and anti-star wars for them to not have their happy ending.

So when the film closes on Rey, Finn and Poe, with Ben absent and Rose no where to be seen, I did not have closure, I did not have fulfillment and I did not feel like I had reached the end of a Star Wars chapter. I honestly feel like I’ve ripped the film to shreds and that was not my intention. I’m a huge star wars fan and thoroughly enjoyed the film, but the decisions the writers have made - for me - are very jarring with the true message inherent within the star wars franchise.

I cannot put my finger on the message the writers were trying to get across with this final film. It clearly isn’t ‘love conquers all,’ or ‘the faithful will be rewarded,’ or anything close. There are unanswered questions, abandoned story arcs, and the shot of Rey staring at the sunsets on Tattoine only served to say that being a Jedi is awful, everyone you care about dies, your life with be hard and lonely - but hey - you get a funky gold light saber!