#splendid film costumes

[theseimmortalcoils]

In honour of costume designer Gabriella Pescucci who turns eighty. Born on this day in Rosignano Solvay, Tuscany, Italy.

Eva Green, Penny Dreadful (2014-16)

Holliday Grainger, The Borgias (2011-13)

Winona Ryder and Michelle Pfeiffer, The Age of Innocence (1993)

Michelle Pfeiffer, A Midsummer Night's Dream (1999)

Monica Belluci, The Brothers Grimm (2005)

Images and text courtesy of The Corseted Beauty on instagram

[quitonly]

ANYA TAYLOR-JOY in EMMA. (2020) dir. Autumn de Wilde, costumes designed by Alexandra Byrne

[redfoxwritesstuff]

For Eternity, Chapter 5 of 13 (Alastor x angel!Wife!OC)

Alastor x Angel!Wife Oc (Isabel) Rated: Adult - this fic contains content inappropriate for minors. Chapter Warnings: Discussions around consent in relation to the porn industry and contractual obligations.

@impulsivethoughtsat2am Was darling enough to beta <3 Many thanks, Dearheart.

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord. And my friend runs a Hazbin Fic Community

Masterlist AO3 KoFi

~~~~~<3

“You are going to tell me exactly how you know that name,” Alastor’s antlers grew, branching out as his shadow rose behind him, looking somehow even more eager to rip Angel’s limbs from his body than the man it belonged to. “And you are going to do so quickly. Am I clear?” 

“Alastor, calm down.” Charlie tried to step between Alastor and Angel only to be swept aside by a shadow, earning him Vaggie’s ire. 

“Enough, Alastor!” She was likewise ignored as Alastor loomed, joints popping as he grew ever so slightly. 

“Tick Tock. My patience is wearing rather thin.” 

“She told me, alright? What’s it to everyone, anyway? She’s just a angel.” Angel Dust took a slow step back, toward the bar, in an effort to put some space between him and Alastor. 

“What, exactly, is the nature of your acquaintance with her?” 

“She’s just Vox’s new plaything. Damn, can I go get a drink now?” Angel took another careful step. For each step he took, Alastor grew and morphed, staying close without actually staking a single step to do so.

“And what, dear Princess, do you know of this?” As Alastor’s attention redirected to Charlie, Angel took his chance to retreat to the bar. 

“Last night, we saw a picture of Vox leading someone into his tower that looked a lot like her.” Charlie was talking fast, torn between the guilt of not telling Alastor sooner when he so obviously cared much more about the news than she had expected and the fear that he may lash out at one of the residents. “I was waiting for Angel to come home, I wanted to see if I could confirm it before I talked to you about it.”

“And so you choose to wait?” Alastor asked calmy in contrast to the flickering lights and dancing shadows in the parlor. 

“Yes!” Charlie wanted to believe that he had understood.

“To ensure I understand the matter clearly- You had reason to believe my wife,” Alastor’s voice rose at those words before calming again as he continued, “Has left her Heavenly home, come to hell and the cherry on top,” again his voice began to climb as his eyes became glowing dials, “She appears to have fallen into Vox’s hands? And you elected to not tell me right away?” 

“That,” Charlie stumbled over her words, “That does sound accurate.” 

“Splendid,” When Alastor determined he had everything Charlie could tell him, he turned to find Angel had already made himself scarce. That’s alright, Alastor was sure he’d get his answers.

~~~~~<3

Isabel had never in her life felt so exposed. Not even on her wedding night had she wore clothes such as what she was forced to wear now. Valentino was angry as he dressed her, displeased to find fading bruises on her thighs. 

He accused her of lying but it didn’t matter, some tall white stockings and no one would see the large handprints above her knees. Vox lurked in the shadows, the glow of his digitized face giving away where he was. It was a ever present reminder that he was there, he was watching and he was ready.

All she had to do was say the word and he would swoop in and save her, he promised. 

She’d never say those words he so badly wanted to hear from her. This humiliation had to be endured. It was one thing to be unwillingly taken and another to willingly give herself to another man. 

Off to the side, Angel Dust paced. He wouldn’t even look at her. Right now it was just costumes, tonight it would be filming. Her heart ached for the man who was already being eaten alive by guilt. He shouldn’t be, it wasn’t his fault. She would never blame him for what he was forced to do or hold it against him. 

Wrapping her wings around her to shield the front of her body from view, Isabel clutched the robe around her as she walked timidly across the floor. It was cold under her bare feet, sticky in places where drinks or God knew what else had been spilled. 

“Hey,” Reaching out, she let her fingertips graze his shirtsleeve to get his attention. Everyone, everything still terrified her but Angel Dust reminded her too much of a kicked dog to ignore. 

“Heya,” He plastered on a smile that looked fragile and fake. 

“Are you alright?” Isabel spoke softly, terrified she’d bring attention to herself and someone would want to check how well she filled out the lacey garments she was stuffed in another time. 

In the distance, Vox and Valentino discussed the scenes and different clothes options. Vox spoke loudly, animated, intending for her to hear. It was another power play, intended to pressure her into changing her mind. 

“What? Of course I’m alright, Toots!” He pulled the smile wider on his face but it quickly deflated when she only looked at him with her caring eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Because you know I don’t want this? And because I know you don’t want this either?” She spoke softly. 

“They want me to rape you, you do realize that?” Angel flopped a pair of his hands to his sides in frustration. How could she spare a thought to care about him. “You don’t want this and unless you change your mind, that’s what this is going to be. They’re going to make me be a part of this.”

“I forgive you,”

“I haven’t even done anything yet.” Angel struggled to keep his voice down, instead pulling her by her upper arms into his dressing room. How long they had before Val came looking, he didn’t know but he thought they’d have at least have a few minutes. Vox was more interested in her deciding against the film and agreeing to whatever his deal was. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Angel was pleading now, leaning down to be on eye level with her. “Please, don’t make me have to do this to you?” 

“I’m not going to betray my marriage.” She took his lower hands in hers as she smiled at him. 

How could she smile at him when they were talking about the very real possibility of her upcoming rape. He couldn’t do this. Fuck, he’d rather face Val’s anger for refusing. He’d- wait-

Alastor was married. Vox didn’t like Alastor. Alastor all but lost his shit when he heard her name. Angel Dust put himself out of his misery for the night prior with every drug in his stash, bailing out of the hotel while Alastor questioned Charlie after only a single drink. 

“What’s your husband’s name?” 

“What?” 

“Just answer me,” Angel Dust’s eyes were wide and pleading. 

“Alastor. His name is Alastor.” 

“Fuck me,” Angel Dust ran a hand through his hair, “When did he die? Tell me everything about him.”

“I don’t- he outlived me.” Isabel struggled to follow Angel Dust’s change of mood. Panic and hope swam in his eyes. “He had brown hair, darker skin-” 

“No, no-” Angel Dust waved the information away, “We all change when we get down here. Tell me what he liked, what he was like.” 

“Smiles, he seems to always be smiling. Loved music, he hosted a-”

“Radio show.” Angel Dust finished, “Fuck me.” 

“How did-?” Angel cut off her words, shaking her softly by the shoulders. 

“I know him. Fuck, I LIVE with him. Shit. Shit, it makes sense-” 

“You know him?” Isa grabbed at the lapels of his top and pulled herself up closer to him. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve gotta go,” Angel Dust pulled himself away from her. Her wings flexed behind her as Angel Dust suddenly wouldn’t look at her suddenly for fear that he if he looked anywhere he shouldn’t he would end up on the next broadcast. 

“Angel Dust,” Isabel reached out, snagging his hand as he rushed to the door. “What happens now?” 

“I’m going to go to the hotel,” Angel Dust rounded on her, wrapping her up in four strong arms. “I’m going to talk to Alastor. Val is going to be pissed when he realizes I’ve left, I’m sorry- he’s probably going to take that out on you. I’ll be back tonight- if Al dosen’t put me on his fucking broadcast-”

“What does that mean?” 

“I’m absolutely not opening that can of worms with you right now,” Angel Dust gave her one last squeeze, “I’ll be back, with Al or with a plan. If I can avoid doing tonight, I will. I don’t think- with how he reacted just hearing your name last night, I don’t think he’ll let tonight happen.”

“What-?” 

“Not important. What’s important is that you need to play nice with Vox. Buy time and do not give him what he wants.” 

Angel Dust slipped out of the room, leaving the door cracked open behind him. He moved with stealth she wouldn’t have expected out of his thin but massive frame. He slipped between people, props and wardrobe racks with the practiced ease of someone who had decades of experience. 

“Where are my Angels?” Valentino called, voice warbling. 

Isabel took one last deep breath and walked out of the dressing room, wings once again tucked around her front. “I’m here,” she called timidly.

“And the other one? I saw you two talking.” 

“I don’t know?” Isabel made a show of looking around. 

Valentino thought for a moment before visibly shaking off the thought and focusing again on her. He grabbed her wings with both sets of his hands, pulling her wings away from her body. The grip was painful and pulled a few feathers from the flesh. 

“That set is very good for starting out. It’s not like it’ll stay on long. Or maybe it will,” He sang the last few words. “Keeping some of it on could be hotter.”

~~~~~<3

Angel Dust burst through the hotel doors, “Where’s Alastor?” 

“Waiting for you,” Alastor rose up from the shadows, clearly already in a terrible mood. 

“Yeah, yeah- I gotta talk to you.” 

“Wonderful, I’ve been waiting to speak to you for hours and yet you’ve been off doing all manner of things when you’re the only one who’s seen *my wife*.”

“That’s what I’m here to talk to you about, Smiles. Either kill me now or let’s fucking talk because I have to be back there in a few hours.”

“Speak, then.” 

“We should have this talk in private,” 

Alastor rose an eyebrow as his smile twitched. He held out his arm, microphone tipped cane in hand as direction to take the conversation up the stairs and away from the lobby. Angel Dust lead the way until they were standing in the hall.

“Come along,” Alastor directed, taking the lead as he lead the way to his door. He didn’t particularly want to invite the spider into his personal space but he had been right, this was a conversation deserving of privacy. 

“Interesting decor choices,” Angel Dust said as he stepped into the half room, half bayou. 

“Tell me everything you know.” 

“Vox has her. He wants her. He knows she still considers herself married, she’s made that very clear but he wants her. He- I’m pretty sure half of the reason why is because of you.”

“Has he harmed her?” 

“Not yet, at least not physically.”

“Elaborate,” Alastor ordered before Angel had even had a chance to do so.

“He’s been tormenting her, trying to break her,” Angel hesitated before continuing. “She’s strong, did you know that?” 

“Indeed, to have a smile on her face and remain kind through the times she lived through took strength.” 

“She’s using all that strength right now,” Angel paused, taking a deep breath. “Please don’t kill me for what I’m about to tell you? Can we make a deal where you don’t shoot the messenger?” 

“Fine,” Sickly green light flared quickly only to recede. It was a minor deal, evoking only a touch of Alastor’s power. 

“Vox is letting Val use her in a film. He’s trying to use that to break her. That’s why- that’s how I know her,”

Alastor interrupted, “Use her how, exactly?” 

“He wants to make a porn with her. He wants to use me, to make me-” 

Alastor’s jaw twitched as he held up a hand, stopping the flow of Angel’s words, “When?” 

“Tonight. Al, I don’t want to, you know that, right? I don’t want to hurt her. I don’t want to do that to anyone, let alone her. Even if she wasn’t yours. Forcing people is all fun and games when it’s an act but she doesn’t want to. She only wants you and I’m not about forcing anyone. Not for real.” 

~~~~~<3

Tag List: @preciousbabypeter, @catticora, @alastor-simp, @alastorthirsty

[best-movie-ever-tournament]

The Hunchback:

This whole production is amazing. But the musical aspects are so mind blowing. Every song goes harder than it needs to. Every character feels so flushed out despite the movie being marketed as a children's movie. Is it perfect? no, not as the most faithful adaptation or politically, but it does have very important and passionate messages

Not a perfect film but some of those songs some of those moments are absolutely splendid. It's the best opening song of the Disney Renaissance it goes so flipping hard

Singin':

The ultimate. The movie about making movies. A 1950s fever dream set in the 1920s. Gorgeous people, in gorgeous costumes, singing gorgeous songs. Gene Kelly actively trying to kill himself with fever and making an iconic masterpiece of a title number. "People!?! I ain't people! I am a glittering star in the studio fermement. It says so. Right there."

Jukebox musical so good no one these days even knows it's a jukebox musical. Amazing dance sequences. As close to a canon ot3 as you can get in the 50s. Seriously just watch that Moses Supposes sequence and tell me those two goofballs aren't married.

[coralcatsea]

what do alfred and arthur have in common? I think Alfred is more like Francis

-They're silly. Alfred more obviously so, but Arthur is as well. They both put on cat ears to 'prank' Japan and have random little races with each other just because. Hima himself said he can't decide if Arthur is a serious person or not.

-They're animal lovers. Arthur adopted a cat, named him Larry, and spoiled him. Alfred is literally depicted hugging a bunch of animals (including a gator) that the presidents had as pets. And he has a whale.

-Both grew up mainly alone. Arthur spent a lot of his childhood alone, so he assumes it's normal and tells Alfred he will be fine by himself, too. Arthur ends up away taking care of his own nation duties most of the time, and Alfred is shown just kind of doing things by himself.

-They have weird taste in food. Arthur's is either bland or burnt (though he's gotten better) while Alfred has all those neon cakes. Arthur also loves McDonald's and that cheesy American food he tried in the courtroom strips. They both love sweets as well.

-They like to tease. Arthur told Alfred with a big smirk that he might be a snakeman for Halloween, and Alfred is scared of snakes. They also lightheartedly teased each other over the phone about their political problems. Once when they were camping/spying at night, Alfred tried to tease Arthur about how the atmosphere felt like 'bloodthirsty monsters' were about to come out of nowhere. Arthur said if he were a monster, he'd avoid Alfred, and Alfred winked and said, "Well, it can get pretty dangerous around me!"

-They both like seeing each other in questionable/skimpy outfits, such as the Robin costume, a Rio Carnivale outfit, and Alfred's April Fool's outfit.

-They're both competitive. There's the whole Halloween competition they always have, and then there was that random race that I mentioned earlier.

-They're interested in old coins, as depicted in that strip about Arthur showing Alfred an old coin he found.

-They have a hard time being honest, and hide their vulnerability since they're sensitive to rejection. Alfred is tentative to admit how much Arthur means to him, like when Arthur was dying, or when he rejected Arthur's offer of friendship – despite very obviously wanting to be his friend given how much he goes out of his way to find excuses to hang out. In turn, Alfred's rejections make Arthur put up walls and come up with excuses of his own when he does things for Alfred, such as giving him food.

-They like showing off/impressing the other. Again, the coin Arthur excitedly showed Alfred. There were multiple times Alfred showed off during the Industrial Revolution, and then when Arthur was giving Alfred a tour of his country, he started texting his magical friends to come over the second Alfred expressed interest in wanting to see something fantastical.

-They're prideful. This goes along with the two points made above.

-The attention they give each other is mutual. Here's a whole post dedicated to the topic.

-Both love Halloween and scary things. They try to scare each other, Arthur has a tendency to sing creepy songs and likes ghost stories, and Alfred likes watching scary films and playing scary games even if they freak him out.

-Both love steampunk. Arthur got really excited when he found out Alfred shared this interest.

-They both have unusual friends. Tony, the whale, Flying Mint Bunny, and other magical creatures.

-They both like fantasy. Arthur watches fantasy movies and Alfred mentioned wanting to see fantastical things on his tour of England.

-They both like romanticism. Arthur is said to become a romanticist before he goes to bed and Alfred expressed an interest in romanticism on his tour of England.

-They both have experience as isolated countries. Arthur has his "Splendid Isolation" and the U.S. has spent a lot of time being isolationist as well.

-They're both intelligent. Arthur is described as sharp-witted and creative in his bio. Alfred is also creative, interested in archaeology, and is actually capable of reading the atmosphere, he just chooses whether or not to do so based on the situation.

-They value each other's opinions. England takes America's advice on how to improve his products, and America prompts England to give his plan a critique despite being sensitive to criticism. Also, Alfred wouldn't be sensitive to Arthur's criticism if he didn't care about his opinion.

-They like to please each other. Arthur often gives Alfred food, like ice cream and chocolate bars. In Hetalia Fantasia, Alfred planned and created an entire dungeon for months, only invited Arthur, and offered the prize of raising his stats extremely high if he won.

[royal-confessions]

“The splendid purple dress of Queen Alexandra of the United Kingdom, exhibited at the Fashion Museum in Bath, is truly stunning. Its elegance is immediately reminiscent of the iconic costumes in the film Titanic.” - Text & Image Submitted by cenacevedo15

[thelustybraavosimaid]

Everywhere you look, there are more screenwriters and producers eager to take great stories and “make them their own.” It does not seem to matter whether the source material was written by Stan Lee, Charles Dickens, Ian Fleming, Roald Dahl, Ursula K. Le Guin, J.R.R. Tolkien, Mark Twain, Raymond Chandler, Jane Austen, or… well, anyone. No matter how major a writer it is, no matter how great the book, there always seems to be someone on hand who thinks he can do better, eager to take the story and “improve” on it. “The book is the book, the film is the film,” they will tell you, as if they were saying something profound. Then they make the story their own. They never make it better, though. Nine hundred ninety-nine times out of a thousand, they make it worse.

[Source]

This man absolutely did not like either of his adaptation shows lmao

Acting, directing, set design, costume… it’s all splendid here. Along with the writing.

Omg

[koizumicchi]

LIPxLIP Radio 2024

Track 1 (Meoto part)

-----

04:18

Yuujirou: We did different kinds of photoshoots for the cd jackets and music videos for the songs included in this album. Aizou, is there something that left an impression on you?

Aizou: If we’re talking about the one that left an impression on me… Well… Of course, it’s all of them, but I’m glad we did that. Meoto’s photoshoot.

Yuujirou: Ah, Meoto. Hmm, because it’s a song with a particular genre, the impression is that of the Japanese clothing, right?

Aizou: Yes, yes. That was really super cool! There probably weren't that many chances in which LIPxLIP is dressed in Japanese clothes. I also wanted to wear one for a music video!

Yuujirou: Like the yukata in summer, New year’s kimono… Although we are able to have seasonal photoshoots, this is the first time we wore our original attire, right?

Aizou: It’s more luxurious than I imagined, and very splendid. When we wore it, it surprised me and I thought it was amazing! Although I enjoyed the photoshoot, it would be impossible to dance like we usually do wearing that attire.

Yuujirou: Aizou moves a lot, so before you know it, the attire would come apart.

Aizou: When he saw that, Yuujirou fixed it right away before the costume staff could come over. You’re amazing.

Yuujirou: It’s because I’m used to wearing it to some extent.

Aizou: That’s right. So uhmm, then what song left an impression on you?

Yuujirou: All of them left an impression on me, but I think it’s the filming for the music video of LOVE&KISS.

-----

T/N: Keep in mind that Japanese and English aren’t my first language. I never claim my translation (attempts) to be error-free. As always, if you’re going to use or reference my translations, please do not claim it as your own and credit me.

[mileapo]

Mile & Apo: It takes two to triumph

IN THE GLITZY REALM OF entertainment, where talent often shines like a beacon, there occasionally emerges a pair of stars whose chemistry transcends the screen. Such is the case with Mile and Apo, two charismatic Thai actors whose TV show KinnPorsche has become a global sensation, watched by millions of viewers from Russia and India, to Poland and Peru.

The two have risen from relative obscurity to become the new ambassadors of Dior, mobbed by teenage girls when they arrived in Mumbai earlier this year to attend a Dior fashion show.

On the surface, the Thai series KinnPorsche seems to have thrown the rulebook of “How to make a hit TV show” out the window. It is a mafia story filled with surly men, bloody gang fights and epic shoot-outs – which, yes, is a mainstay of TV programming. But the radical twist is this: the two main characters are a mafia boss’ son (played by Mile) and his male bodyguard (played by Apo) who – surprise, surprise – fall in love with each other.

In the history of TV, there has never been a hit crime series centred on a gay plot. But when KinnPorsche debuted in April 2022 on Thai TV and global streaming service iQiyi, it almost instantly became the top trending title in neighbouring countries such as Singapore, Indonesia, Malaysia, Vietnam and the Philippines.

Soon after, it claimed Europe, finding particular popularity in Poland, Turkey, Italy and France. Then it stormed its way into North and South America, where it was a top trending topic in the US, Mexico, Brazil, Argentina, Ecuador and Colombia.

No one – not even the cast and producers – thought the show would be this successful. It seems to have fed into some untapped market for female audiences who love action shows, but don’t care to see yet another threateningly perfect actress couple up with their fantasy man.

If you ask any fan what it is about the show that makes them sweat, swoon or quiver with delight, they’ll answer quite simply: Mile and Apo.

Double or nothing

At their photo shoot in Bangkok’s top restaurant Nusara, which overlooks the splendid temple complex Wat Pho, the models-turned-actors are in their element. They tailor their bodies and facial expressions instinctively for the camera, conveying a range of emotions, from sultry and mysterious to bright and playful. The slinky Dior suits, with their clean lines and minimal embellishments, don’t hurt either.

Mile (or Phakphum Romsaithong) and Apo (or Nattawin Wattanagitiphat) recently released their new film Man Suang in cinemas. It is a big-budget political thriller set during the 19th century reign of Rama III, replete with historically authentic sets and costumes.

Apo plays a traditional dancer who is recruited to spy in an elite club and uncover a plot to overthrow the order of the king. Finding a kindred spirit in the club’s taphon drummer (played by Mile), the two team up to stop the underground rebellion.

Speaking with the help of a translator, Mile, 31, explains: “We hope the movie reaches out to a wide audience. We wanted it to have both commercial and critical success, something that could show Thai history and culture to the world, but also be fun and entertaining enough to be a popcorn movie for the masses.”

Both actors note how T-pop (the shorthand for Thai popular entertainment) has been hyped as the next global sensation after K-pop and J-pop, following the massive success of Thai stars such as Lisa Manobal, Bright Vachirawit and Win Opas-iamkajorn.

“And it can happen,” says Apo, 29, also through a translator. “Thai people are very humble, gentle, hardworking and friendly. We can blend into any culture. If anything, Thailand has served as a melting pot for different cultures – just as Singapore has. Our culture can be easily embraced by the world.”

The duo believes that the global audience has transformed in recent times. “They’re now more welcoming of stories from different parts of the world, especially if those stories involve characters going on a journey to discover themselves and make themselves better, stronger, wiser and happier,” says Apo. “That’s why when I look for new projects these days, I look for the ones that carry the messages of self-actualisation.”

Mile concurs, adding: “I’ve always believed in ‘high risk, high return’. KinnPorsche was a risky proposition, because it took a mafia crime genre and placed it in the Boy Love category (a niche genre involving gay romance). But I believed in the project’s potential from the start – even if I never thought it’d become the cultural phenomenon that it is today. Its success has only strengthened my belief in ‘high risk, high return’.”

One-two punch

The road to success has been winding for both actors. Though born with the magnetic allure of leading men, they’ve had to work hard to secure roles over countless rivals, as strikingly handsome as they are. Having appeared in smaller parts before, it was the smash success of KinnPorsche – a show that almost didn’t get made because of funding issues – that catapulted them into not just the Thai limelight, but the global stratosphere.

Asked what Dior’s artistic director Kim Jones thinks of KinnPorsche, the duo laughs. Apo says: “We don’t know if he’s seen the show – we didn’t ask him. But we do know that our fans had been bombarding his Instagram account for a while, telling him about us, asking him to check us out, before he signed us up – well, at least that’s what he told us when we met him for the first time.”

“But for all you know, he could be binge-watching the series right now,” quips Mile, prompting another round of chuckles.

As the two men trade jokes in Thai, it’s clear that they share a genuine friendship. Their camaraderie is palpable, adding an extra layer of authenticity to their on-screen chemistry. Their behind-the-scenes antics and playful banter in candid posts have become fan fodder, launching thousands of TikTok videos and memes.

Mile says: “We’ve only become better friends in these past two-and-a-half years. We’ve become more synchronised, and our mindsets and energies are moving at the same pace. I can look at Apo and more or less understand what’s going on in his mind. We have small conflicts, of course – it’s normal among friends – but it’s usually something so minor, we can resolve it quickly.”

The best part of their friendship? Their shared love of dad jokes – that genre of silly, cheesy jokes with predictable punchlines that fathers supposedly love to tell their kids.

But Mile confesses: “I don’t tell dad jokes because I like them, to be honest. What I really, really want to tell are smart jokes, witty jokes… But I’m so bad at making jokes that they always come across as dad jokes, no matter how hard I try.”

Apo interjects: “Do you wanna hear a good dad joke?” Then, switching from Thai to halting English, he says slowly: “Hey you… watch where you walk… or you will… fall… into… my heart.”

[moominofthevalley]

The Girl with the Glass

Trystan finds a mysterious scrapbook. Emily has a deep conversation with a stranger.

trystan x emily

teen | wc: 2.5k | cw: mentions of grief

cfwc prompt: ‘visiting a holiday market’ & ‘the holidays won’t be the same now that they’re gone’

a/n: happy holidays, everyone! this drabble is inspired by an influx of things – mostly my favorite film, “amélie,” if you couldn’t tell by the title. (which, of course, is not-so-subtle-symbolism). enjoy! ♡

“It’s your turn, Trystan!” 

Snow sprinkled downwards, little husks of angels drooping to the wintry ground. Crowds of faces walked the busy New York streets, surrounded by shiny knickknacks and dusty clothes. Cheeks were stained pink, and lips curled upwards in the holiday spirit. Trystan urged out a cocky grin, arms around Emily’s waist. 

“Is it, now?” 

“Yes, it is! I’ll go and get something for us to eat.” 

Trystan pecked her forehead, whispering, “Do something good!” before disappearing into the crowd. He grew fond of these new habits of love, searching for a trinket to take back to their hearth. 

It was a silly tradition, but a tradition nonetheless. It began with a scratched Pierrot figurine Emily bought from a vintage shop. Ivory skin and porcelain eyes, and a black-and-white costume with a frilled collar. Like some haunted elf on the shelf, the clown explored the apartment all by itself – according to Trystan, at least. The second well-loved piece was a gift from Marguerite: a brass ladybug ashtray. Neither Emily nor Trystan smoked, though the aureate bug was far too interesting to be thrown away. The most recent find was a print of Renoir’s The Luncheon of the Boating Party Emily purchased from a local art gallery. Both of them adored it; the celebration of warmth and good company, the splendid wines and fruits, calmness and beauty in the mundane. Drinks and company aside, Emily was far more fascinated with the girl with the glass. A sullen woman drinking wine in a sea of chatting strangers.

It was Trystan’s turn, and he was keen on finding an old book of sorts. He insisted on a leather novel of yellowed papers and annotated lines, with intricate Victorian details along the spine. Trystan paused, exhilarated at the antique booth before him. Forgotten scrapbooks, noir polaroids, rotten thrown-away cameras, and fringed lamps cornered him with an enticement to explore. 

Emily wandered around the opposite side of the market, searching for food vendors. A strange harmony bubbled inside her; a soft scent, a beam from the clouded sun. She breathed in the scent of chestnuts and red wine, a wintry chill slipping through her bones. Silver bells danced in the December wind, faces greeting each other with a blissful smile. It was a perfect moment, a painting from her own eyes. 

On the sidewalk stood a white-haired woman in a vibrant Christmas sweater, her cane tapping the frozen ground. Breaths escaped her parted lips in subtle clouds of white. Trystan’s words repeated in Emily’s head, a determination settling within her. This was peace and contentment; the mundanity of a random December afternoon. 

“Excuse me, ma’am, do you need help?” 

“Yes, please!” 

“Careful of the curb, here we go!”

The woman held onto the cane, her other hand wrapped around Emily’s. Her heart burst at the scene developing around her. Laughs and joyous days echoed around her, the wind so sweet she gulped for more. 

“Hear that? That’s a florist laughing, he has crinkly eyes! A booth that smells like eucalyptus and rose is selling crystals and botanical postcards. The food truck across them is selling lollipops and hot cocoa for children. A farmer’s booth has rows of persimmons, oranges, and tangerines. Next to the fruits, a baby is watching her dad throw his hat in the air. We’re at the end of the market, there’s a bookstore and a vinyl shop in front of us. I’ll leave you here, goodbye!” 

The elderly woman struck out a pleased laugh, touched by moments folding around her. Memories of today fell like dominoes, scattering about like new snow. Her cheeks shined pink as Emily cradled her hand, stilling the woman’s trembling fingers. 

“Have a good day,” She whispered before walking off. 

“Wait,” The woman called out, “Are you hungry? Let me get you something to eat!” * * * *

Emily and the white-haired woman split an orange and two empanadas on a quiet bench. Emily, of course, peeled the oranges in thirds, ignoring the pith underneath her nails. 

Familiarity struck her as she handed the woman an orange. Her father’s willow-leaved eyes resembled the stranger’s. Perhaps in another life, Jimmy Rose grew old and never walked the grounds of Box Thirty-Two. To breathe with wrinkled skin and grey hairs, lines creasing about his lips and forehead.  

“What’s your name?”

“Diana.” 

“I’m Emily,” she hid the third orange wedge in her coat pocket, “Do you like the food?” 

“I love it,” Diana grinned, “God, that vendor was beautiful, wasn’t she?” 

Emily gulped, taken aback, “How could you tell?” 

The other woman laughed and patted her lap, “Partial blindness. I can only see things if I’m up close.” 

“Oh!” Emily blushed awkwardly, “I’m sorry – I didn’t-” 

“Don’t worry.” 

“But, er, yes, the vendor was beautiful.” 

Diana perked up, casting an amused grin, “Are you a lesbian?” 

“Bisexual. My partner wanted to check this market out. He’s looking for…I dunno, some trinket to take home, and I told him I’d get us some food. Are you…also…?” 

Diana nodded. 

“How old are you?” 

“Sixty-eight. And you?” 

“Twenty-eight,” Diana winced. 

“Don’t worry, it does get better.” 

Emily shrugged, unconvinced. Her bones were brittle as if made of glass, jaded memories of Drakovia hitting her like violent waves against a sandy beach. Grief thrashed inside her head so intensely she’d wake up in the night, begging for air. There was avoiding it, no going under or over it. Whether she’d acknowledge it or not, trauma and grief permeated her life. 

“When?” Emily asked innocently, her eyes burning. Diana scooted slightly closer, resting her wrinkled hand over Emily’s. 

“When does it get better?” Emily nodded, cringing at her childish question, “However long it takes. Eventually…it’ll pass.” 

It had been sixteen years. Sixteen years, and it had, indeed, not passed. She swore that she’d be done with everything by twenty. That foolish promise broke, and twenty-eight was no different than twenty. All that was left of Jimmy Rose’s legacy was a cruel memory. 

“It’s been almost twenty years. I don’t think it will.” 

Emily gritted her teeth, furrowing her fingers into her hands until they became beet red. With a blink of an eye, she was no longer the famed private detective who took down the Heartache Killer; but a tall child with no father. 

“Oh, Emily,” Diana cooed, “I’m so sorry. But that’s simply not true,” She murmured, struggling to find the right words, “Nothing lasts forever. Things pass, lives go on, and it feels fucking awful when you’re…stuck. But when we are stuck, all we have is each other. To get by, at least.” 

Emily’s walls began crumbling. Her hands instinctively covered her face, sheltering herself from the world. Diana granted her some space, moving closer to the other end of the bench. 

“I’m sorry,” Emily rubbed her face, grasping at anything to change the subject. With a pained sigh, she uttered, “Y’know, I don’t really like Christmas. I just–I’m just here because of my partner.” 

“I don’t either,” Diana said, “But my wife loved it. Every year, God bless her soul, she’d always cook the worst beef wellington ever!” Diana laughed with a familiar gleefulness, “I’d always eat it. I mean, it was atrocious and entirely raw, but she cooked it. Made with love…and absolutely no seasoning. I would do anything to have it this year.” 

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Emily whispered, “Her wellington must’ve made your day. My dad took me to Rockefeller Square every year until he passed. I always thought he was a king for that,” She chuckled, “I remember seeing it for the first time. I didn’t even know trees got that big.” 

“He sounds like an amazing Dad. I am so sorry for your loss.” 

“Thank you. I try to remember the good things about him. It helps keep his spirit alive.” 

Inklets of snow trailed down and stained their hair, solemness in the wind. Emily cleared her throat, pushing past the silence. 

“Can you tell me more about your wife?” 

“Of course,” Diana beamed, “Her name was Dani. She lived in the apartment next to mine. She was an amazing pianist - I’d always hear her playing through the walls. One day, I knocked on her door and asked if I could listen to her.” 

“Do you remember what song she played?” 

“Yes! It was, hm, ‘Camptine?’ No – ‘Comptine d’un autre été.’ You really should listen to it sometime.” 

“I’ll hold you to that…how long were you two together?” 

“Twenty years and ninety-eight days – but who’s counting? We were completely different,” Diana’s face grew serious, “And she was so different in the end, too. It’s odd to see someone go when they’re already gone and so, so small.”

Emily fiddled with her hands, jaws clenched, “I’m so sorry, Diana. I can’t imagine losing–” She choked on a small pit in her throat, “I just can’t imagine a loss like that.” 

“Thank you. The two of us had an amazing life. We really did. I mean – sometimes I still see her, even in little things, I still feel her with me.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I see her everywhere,” Diana’s lips quivered, “I see her when it rains, and I think of the song she played for me when we first met. I saw La Traviata last summer, and all I thought about was her. Whenever I walk by a deli, I think of her God-awful beef wellington.” 

A glint of doubt shimmered in Emily’s eye. Uncertainty twisted her insides, striking with fierce ripples of despair and mourning. 

“Listen to me,” Diana said sternly, “One day at a time is all we got. So go on and live. But, when the time does come…kiss his forehead, rub his feet, play a song. It will be hard, and I don’t think it will ever go away completely. But I promise – after some time, you’ll wake up and feel, maybe not better, but as if you’ve adjusted to the pain of it all. And then it won’t hurt so much.” 

A surge of preemptive grief washed over Emily, though tears never flooded her eyes. The burdens of the past and deaths of the future weren’t gone, but instead quiet and still in her mind. Death is only a moment, a bitter soul slipping into the next room. Two words repeated in Emily’s head until she was content. 

“Thank you. I never thought of it that way…thank you.” 

Easy silence lay upon them, the words shared by each other warm in their throats. Flurries of unknown faces passed by, snowflakes tangling in their hair with ease. Spotting Trystan in the crowd of strangers, Emily greeted the mischievous smirk on his face, hands tucked behind his back. 

“Hey partner,” Trystan kissed the top of Emily’s head, “And who’s this?” 

“I’m Diana…and you must be who Emily was telling me about!” 

“Oh, yeah? What’d she tell you?” 

“Your deepest and darkest secrets, obviously,” Emily deadpanned, “...You hiding something back there?” 

With a smug grin, Trystan unveiled a wrapped gift. He chuckled, “You’ll see! I’ll show you later.” 

“Hey, I also got you something!” Emily grabbed the orange slice from her pocket, wiping away tiny beads of lint. Trystan’s face lit up, mouth agape. 

“I love you. Thank you,” Trystan pecked her forehead once more before biting into the citrus, “And it was lovely meeting you, Diana. I hope Emily didn’t tell you every secret of mine.” Diana laughed, shaking his hand. 

“Of course not. And Emily?” She whispered into her ear, “Remember what you’re here for.”

* * * *

“Do I seriously need to be blindfolded for this?” 

“I mean,” He pressed his hands tight against Emily’s eyes, “Yeah, you do.” 

Emily grumbled, rolling her eyes through the thick wad of fabric tied around her head. A week had passed since she met Diana, and all that was in her mind were her tender words. Emily fixed her pout, forcing a tooth-shining smirk as Trystan led her across the apartment. 

“The things I do for you.” 

“Careful, darling,” Trystan gently moved her away from hitting the coffee table, “And sit…err, right here!” 

“Can I take the blindfold off now?” 

“Not yet!” 

Sounds of scuffling surrounded her, and Emily grew curious. Trystan had been hiding something since the trip to the market. Whenever she’d mentioned it, he’d waggle a finger to his lips and utter gibberish. 

Emily scoffed, amused, “Is this about that thing you got last week?” Trystan snickered with a childlike excitement. 

“...Maybe.” 

The tussling stopped, and Trystan sat beside her. Resting a hand on her thigh, he grinned, “Okay! You can take it off now.” 

“Oh…my God!” 

A leatherbound scrapbook and a dainty film camera plastered with Hello Kitty stickers sat across them. Colorful children’s doodles scuffed the book cover, crayons covering every inch. Squiggly letters in blue and red revealed the title: RoSe fAmilY aDveNtureS. Emily gasped, flooded with faint memories of her father. With flushed cheeks, she turned to Trystan and gawked. 

“Trystan!” Emily squealed, “You found this last week?” 

“Mhm,” He bobbed his head, “I showed it to Tommy to make sure. He said he must’ve accidentally donated it while cleaning up the attic. It…may or may not have taken me a long time to figure out how to use the camera – but it works! I’ll hook it up to the TV, okay?” 

“I fucking love you.” 

Emily and Trystan flipped page after page, soaking in long-forgotten moments of Emily’s past. At the top of each page contained a laminated label. Little Emily as San, Halloween 2002. Trip to Luzon, June 2005. Fluffernutters and Chocolate Rocks! 

Stacks of polaroids were taped against each other, smiles and blissful memories in every photo. One quickly seized Trystan’s attention. ‘2001’ was written at the hem of the photo. At the center, a pigtailed Emily smiled widely at the camera, boasting her half-eaten yan yan. 

“God,” Emily grazed her thumb over the polaroid, “I can’t believe you found this.” 

“Me too. Maybe we can look through Tommy’s attic sometime. There has to be other books we can find.” 

“Can we look through the camera now?” 

“Of course!” 

Emily grinned at Trystan, warmed by his gift. It’d been years since her heart grew so fondly, a quiet ease running through her body. Her bones were, indeed, not made of glass. She was not brittle and weak, but rather brimming with love and sentiment. Pain and sorrow were in her veins, too, yet on this still and snowy morning, Emily was at peace.

* * * * A/N: This fic was both such a pain and so nice to write lol. I wanted to give a little thank you to @jerzwriter @lexicook74-blog and @logolepzy for helping me edit this fic! Thank you all so much for your feedback, I appreciate you all SO much.

Tags: @choicesprompts @choicesholidays @choicesficwriterscreations @jerzwriter @logolepzy @mooserii @starsarewithinme @jonathanmoores @shadyinternetblizzard @urcowboyboyfriend @lexicook74-blog @leahtine @jahrobin @icarusfallsforever @kyra75 @calisomnia (let me know if else would like to be added to my crimes tag!)

[astoundingbeyondbelief]

Kaiju Brooklyn 2

This year marked my first time attending a kaiju convention that wasn't G-Fest. In my defense, there were no real options besides G-Fest until very recently, and those options kept getting scheduled during my semester (All Monsters Attack) or had hefty travel costs attached (the cons in Texas, Arizona, and California). But Kaiju Brooklyn's sophomore outing caught my eye, not the least because it was being held in my home state.

Kaiju Brooklyn's existence is fairly serendipitous. Artist and set painter John Belotti Jr. scored the t-shirt rights to the Ultra Series in 2022, but Tsuburaya didn't approve his designs in time for him to sell them at any of the major New York City conventions. After learning that an event space had opened up in Brooklyn's Industry City, he hit upon the idea of a kaiju convention—and thanks to the twin WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes, he had ample time to plan one.

Kaiju Brooklyn 2 expanded significantly on its predecessor, adding a full lineup of panels, a second film screening, a Friday night VIP party, and an Ultraman screening room. I sprung for the VIP package because I thought it would better justify the trip and I was originally supposed to go with my vastly more outgoing QPP. I ended up skittering around the outskirts of the party like the wallflower I am until some of the volunteers noticed my Wikizilla shirt and started gushing about the site/channel. (Keeping the site up to date has been seriously draining as of late, so that really meant a lot.) The swag bag consisted of a Kaiju Brooklyn-branded string backpack and lanyard, a sticker for the night's movie, and a Blu-ray of Superior 8 Ultra Brothers. At first I thought the Blu was the big prize, but the backpack ended up making my life a lot easier the next day. @mainblag (April) showed up for the outdoor Mega Monster Battle: Ultra Galaxy Legends the Movie screening. The crowd was enthusiastic and the venue terrific; unfortunately, the overhead lighting never dimmed, making the picture hard to see. I had seen the film enough times to be able to follow it regardless, but it was April's first viewing. Mill Creek Blu-ray, Japanese with English subtitles. (I hoped in vain for the dub.)

I arrived at the con early the next day to see how far I could stretch my limited funds in the dealers' room. There was a TV at the entrance to the hall playing Godzilla Minus One, serendipitously added to Netflix mid-con. (Enough of us stopped to watch the atomic breath scene in Ginza that we briefly blocked said entrance.) The dealers were splendid. I recognized a few from G-Fest; speaking of the Chicago con, it was refreshing to see so many kaiju artists in one room again. Amazingly, no Toho lawyers descended from the ceiling. My haul is here. Took me long enough to pick up a MinusGoji. Also, props to Tsuburaya for having a booth; the free Ultraman: Rising cards went quickly.

I went to three panels: Ultraman Goes West with Belotti Jr. and Ultraman Connection's EJ Couloucoundis; A Tale of 2 Godzillas with Shin Godzilla PA Yoko Higuchi, and Kevin Derendorf's incredible one-hour encapsulation of the Godzilla franchise right before the night's movie screening. The Ultraman panel was a real how-far-we've-come moment. Tsuburaya is doing far more to make their back catalogue and their ears available to U.S. fans than Toho at this point, and I was really impressed with how eloquently Couloucoundis spoke about the Ultra Series. The 2 Godzillas panel was hamstrung by the absence of Will Caban, who worked on TriStar's Godzilla, but Higuchi had more than enough stories about Shin and thoughts about kaiju to fill the hour. Great moderator too. There was also supposed to be a meet-and-greet with Monster Island Buddies; unfortunately, he had the flu.

The Cosplay Contest, held on the same rectangular turf lawn as the screenings, was great fun. Creative costumes; great performances for the crowd; a minimum of photographers lunging in front of everyone else for the perfect shot.

The outdoor showing of The Return of Godzilla was my first time seeing the film with a crowd, and I believe my first time revisiting it since my big Godzilla series rewatch in 2019. I took it in with the lovely group I had sort of glommed onto later in the day, along with April and the college friend who I was staying with. I much prefer the Kazuki Omori films that followed—the pacing here tends towards the sluggish—but it takes some big swings with the Cold War angle and, as one of only two Godzilla films made in the 80s, has a unique look. The crowd enthusiastically booed the American flag on the ambassador's car. The source was the Kraken Releasing Blu-ray, Japanese with English subtitles.

I want to end by talking a bit more about the venue, Industry City. This is a line of historical warehouses and factories now largely occupied by various small businesses, including The Shops at Japan Village. It's a vastly more engaging space than a hotel, at times even beautiful, and helped make up for the two-track nature of the con. If you weren't up for the current panel and had tapped out your Dealers' Room budget, there was still plenty to look at. The panels were held at various spaces throughout the venue, and getting to them was sometimes a bit of an adventure. The Higuchi panel was decidedly cramped. It seems inevitable that the con will keep growing, given Godzilla and Ultraman's ever-climbing popularity in the States, but I wonder how much physical room it has to do so in Industry City.

If you're on the East Coast, Kaiju Brooklyn's well worth the trip. For as much as kaiju fans bicker online, the ones who come to in-person meetups remain a blast to talk to, and they know how to put on a show.

[the-himawari]

A3! Promotion Event Translation - Haunted Western-style House (5/9)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Masumi: Director’s gone… Even though I came all the way here…

Tsumugi: If you’re looking for Director, she just stepped out a moment ago.

Masumi: I was too late… *sigh*…

Kazunari: Aw, don’t make that face, Massu~. You can talk to us!

Masumi: …By the way, what were you talking to Director about earlier?

Kazunari: We were chatting about how tomorrow’s the day we’re going to have our photoshoot and help out at the Horror House!

Tsumugi: Oh, right. The day we’re assisting is also the Horror House’s opening day, isn’t it? That makes me feel a bit nervous.

Kazunari: But isn’t it super exciting to think that we’re gonna be the first ones to step foot inside?

Tsumugi: Ah. When I think about it that way, I feel more excited than nervous.

Kazunari: Plus, I heard they've decided which members are gonna be on the cover. This time, it’s gonna be Massu, the chief butler, and me, the mansion’s owner!

Masumi: Me…? I’ve already done it once, so I didn’t think it’d happen again.

Kazunari: Apparently, it worked out best that way considering our costumes!

Tsumugi: Great for you two. If I recall correctly, is this your first time on the cover of “VELUDO”?

Kazunari: Mhm. I’ve never appeared on the cover somehow~. So I’m super hyped!

Tsumugi: I can’t wait to see how the photo on the cover turns out with you two. Masumi-kun, you have something splendid to report to Hatsue-san again.

Masumi: Yeah, grandma will be happy. I’ll give her a copy “VELUDO” when she arrives back in Japan.

Kazunari: That’ll be awesome! I’m sure she’ll be over the moon receiving it directly from you!

Tsumugi: Fufu, I agree. I think she’ll be delighted.

-pause-

Tsumugi: So this is the new Horror House.

Kazunari: The interior is beautiful! You can tell it was renovated!

Tsuzuru: The fact that some spots are roughed up to create an eerie feeling gives it a nice atmosphere.

Juza: I see. They did that on purpose… impressive.

Kumon: I wanna see a ghost! I wonder where they’ll pop out from?

Izumi: Ghosts aren’t supposed to appear on film, so we might not able to see any.

Masumi: Huh...

Izumi: Hm? It’s surprising that you’re disappointed. Did you want to see a ghost too?

Masumi: That’s not what I meant…

-pause-

Photoshoot staff: Now then, we are going to start with the group photos! We plan to use this as a double-page spread on the special feature page.

Troupe members: Okay!

*click*

Photographer: Alright, looking good! Next, let’s try switching up your standing positions. …Yeah, just like that!

Izumi: (Our photoshoot is pretty early in the morning before the place opens, so I was a little worried. But everyone’s doing great as usual.)

*click*

Photographer: Alright, done! Thank you for your hard work! We’re going to have the photoshoot for the cover next. Usui-san and Miyoshi-san, please come this way.

Izumi: I think everyone else can take a break. What are you going to do?

Tsumugi: Can I observe their shoot? We did come all the way here, after all.

Kumon: I wanna watch too!

Tsuzuru: Alright, all of us will go together then.

Juza: ‘Kay.

-pause-

Photographer: First off, we’ll have the chief butler act like he’s reporting something to the mansion’s owner who’s sitting in a chair.

*click*

Kazunari: …

Masumi: …

*click*

Kumon: Kazu-san looks totally different than usual! It’s amazing!

Tsuzuru: Masumi’s expression also gives off a somewhat unsettling feeling…

Photographer: Let’s switch up the mood a bit. Yeah, change the poses up… yes, great.

Masumi: …

*click*

Kazunari: …

*click*

Juza: …I’m learnin’ a lot by watching them.

Tsumugi: Right. This also a part of acting.

Kazunari & Masumi: …

*click*

Photographer: And done! That’s a wrap for the cover shoot.

Kazunari & Masumi: Thank you very much!

Izumi: (The cover shoot finished without a hitch! Both of them had great expressions. I can’t wait to see the cover.)

---

previous | next

[michaelsheenpt]

Time Out says

5 out of 5 stars

Michael Sheen is captivating in this epic production that marries 18th century Vienna with the Beatles circa Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band

You could be forgiven for thinking that this latest production of Amadeus had reworked Peter Shaffer’s 1979 Tony Award-winning play into a one-man show, so thoroughly does acclaimed Welsh actor Michael Sheen dominate the marketing material. And you’d only be half-wrong. At times there are around 40 people on stage together, but Sheen’s turn as the preening, pompous, guilt-wracked, self-aggrandising Antonio Salieri is so captivating you find yourself having to drag your attention away from him even when he’s simply sitting quietly in a chair on stage while the action of the scene plays out away from him. 

When we first meet Salieri the once-revered composer is a withered old man, dressed in a wig and a red robe reminiscent of Gary Oldman’s first appearance in Bram Stoker’s Dracula. And much like that film, Amadeus tells the tale of a devout man who declares a war on God. In Salieri’s case, it is unquenchable professional jealousy that drives his mutiny against heaven; on meeting the prodigiously talented Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Rahel Romahn, recently seen on screen in Here Out West and excellent here) at a salon in music-obsessed 18th century Vienna, he simply cannot reconcile the man’s unarguable compositional genius with his boorish, scandalous behaviour. Aghast at the injustice that God would grant such talent to such a man, he resolves to destroy Mozart – to strike back at God, he tells us, not for any mere personal grudge. If you say so, Salieri. 

...this is 18th century Vienna by way of the Beatles circa Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band

From there we flash back to see how Mozart’s fortunes wane even as his talent swells, all down to Salieri’s Machiavellian machinations at the court of Emperor Joseph II (Toby Schmidt of Black Sails, fantastically foppish in Hugh-Laurie-in-Blackadder mode) – who loves music as long as it doesn’t have too many notes, and whose mercurial whims can spell fortune or disaster for all around him.

It all plays out on an impressively deep stage designed by Michael Scott-Mitchell that caters to expansive crowd scenes, yet also conveys an almost claustrophobic intimacy during the dramatic two or three-hander scenes. Indeed, Amadeus is something of a chamber piece, and it’s interesting to wonder how it might play out on a smaller stage than the Opera House’s (spectacular, have no doubt) recently refurbished Concert Hall. There’s a tension between the scope of the story and the scale of the production.

The splendid costumes by Anna Cordingley and local fashion legends Romance Was Born take no prisoners, evoking the OTT court fashions of the time and then some – this is 18th century Vienna by way of the Beatles circa Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. Veteran actor Sean O’Shea’s outfit as Baron Gottfried van Swieten, frenemy to both Salieri and Mozart, is impressively peacockish. Salieri’s dourness and religiosity is conveyed by his comparatively sober black and silver ensemble, while Mozart looks like he can barely be convinced to dress himself, his sleeves loose and ragged.

There’s not a bum note in the cast (if we can’t use music puns here, where can we?) and Lily Balatincz is particularly impressive as Mozart’s increasingly desperate wife Constanz, bringing nuance to what could have been a rote victim role. But this is Sheen’s show, make no mistake. 

Back at the dawn of his career, Sheen took on the role of Mozart opposite David Suchet’s Salieri in a landmark production that took him from the West End’s Old Vic to Broadway and Los Angeles, so there’s a pleasing symmetry to him essaying Salieri now. It’s an immensely challenging role, the character bearing the burden of attention for almost the entire two-hour and fifteen minute running time (a 20 minute, slightly-too-short intermission included). But Sheen handles it beautifully, adjusting his posture and changing his accent to embody both the elder (who has reverted to his native Lombardy accent) and younger court composer. Crucially, Sheen has the charisma to make us, his audience and confessor, complicit. Salieri is one of the great villain-protagonists of the stage, and while Shaffer’s deft writing does a lot to help us connect with this self-crucified man through his pettiness and hypocrisy, there needs be considerable charm in play to seal the deal and make us want to spend a little under three hours in his company. Sheen, wrapping himself around Shaffer’s delicious dialogue like a mongoose around a cobra, has it in spades.

This is a superb production from director Craig Ilott (Smoke and Mirrors, American Idiot) and Red Line Productions, who manage the transition from their usual cosy environs of the Old Fitz to the Concert Hall with aplomb, anchored by a sublime, textured performance. If you make this your first show of 2023, you’ll be giving the rest of the year a lot to live up to. 

Amadeus is playing until January 21, 2023, as part of the Sydney Opera House’s mammoth calendar of events for its 50th anniversary celebration.

Source

[inkflourishes]

thoughts on firebrand: loved how katheryn, henry; and their relationship was written! it was an interesting take. i loved the costumes as well, and the performances were splendid! besides that, i was little bit frustrated with the historical inaccuracies in the film, especially towards the middle and end.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

I see you posting about cats the musical so I have to ask what u think of the movie?

the 1998 Cats film rules. absolutely iconic and deservedly lasting takes on all of the characters and songs and a splendid example of how to adapt a stage musical to film without absolutely shredding the entire premise. it really manages to nail the balance between using the new format to enhance the performance (zoom ins to heighten character expressions and generally show off costume and makeup, clever editing, giving Mr. Mistoffelees force lightning, etc) without completely abandoning the things that make it charming to watch live. a soundtrack that's annoyingly vastly superior to the one available on Spotify, namely the inclusion of the Pekes and the Pollicles instead of Growltiger's Last Stand.

[project1939]

100+ Films of 1952

Film number 133: Scarlet Angel 

Release date: June 15th, 1952 

Studio: Universal 

Genre: adventure 

Director: Sidney Salkow 

Producer: Leonard Goldstein, Ross Hunter 

Actors: Yvonne De Carlo, Rock Hudson, Richard Denning 

Plot Summary: In 1865, Roxy McClanahan is a bawdy barroom gal who makes a living stealing money from unsuspecting men. When rugged sailor Capt. Truscott enters her life, he loses both his wallet and his heart. Then an opportunity to make serious money lands in Roxy’s lap- she just has to impersonate the widow of a wealthy Civil War soldier. But will Truscott sabotage it all?

My Rating (out of five stars): ***¼ 

This was a piece of fluffy fun. It’s not a great film, but it is quite enjoyable due to the interesting plot and the charm and beauty of its two stars. It was also nice to get a historical film that wasn’t stodgy or encumbered with “prestige.”  (some spoilers)

The Good: 

Yvonne De Carlo. She was probably my favorite part of the film. She’s breathtakingly beautiful, for one. She also has a sensuality and strength that I found very appealing. She was no shrinking violet.  

Rock Hudson. At this early point in his career his acting wasn’t as polished yet, but he was better than I expected. His gorgeous looks and imposing frame offset any lack of skill. His charisma is insane- he certainly had “it” when it came to screen presence. And let’s just say putting him in sailor coats and suits was a splendid idea! 

The acting in general was pretty good. This wasn’t an “A” film, so I was happy to find that no one in the cast was sub-par. 

The costumes were beautiful and vibrant, even if the amount of cleavage shown in high society was totally anachronistic! 

The Technicolor looked nice. Not as bright and rich as MGM, but still very pleasing.

I liked the character of Roxy. She was a tough girl in a way that wasn’t typical for most heroines at the time. 

The plot was cute and fun. 

I’m not a baby person, but there was a seriously adorable toddler in this.

Who doesn’t love a saloon girl who throws punches and can hold her own in a brawl? 

The Bad: 

Roxy’s change of heart near the end was too sudden for me. A kiss from Rock Hudson, and “poof!” she’s cured! 

The pace of the film slowed somewhat when Roxy moved in with the Caldwells. 

What about the little boy at the end? He had basically only known Roxy as his mom, and she just left him. I get that he was supposed to have a “better” life living in luxury, but it left a bad taste in my mouth. 

In the opening scene in New Orleans, months after the civil war has ended, Truscott watches some Union soldiers trying to take down a Confederate flag. He angrily fights them, and the scene is filmed as if the Union soldiers were somehow being disrespectful? After the war?

The women wore way too much makeup for 1865, especially the high society women. But that’s to be expected in a Hollywood film, I guess.