#there was a lot of intention in each section (that rhymes!) each part tried to relate to the lyrics without being overbearing?

[silently-standingstill]

This isn’t an art request but I just saw your AMV and I loved it a lot! If you can, could you walk through the process whereby you color the animation? Do you have set color palettes and add overlays to create lighting or do you manually pick the colors via color theory? I want to know /nf

Hello!! I appreciate your interest :D I put a lot of thought into the colors so this may be a long one! It'll include other animation info too

Any color I use is never reused for any section, I pick them all manually and for a purpose, it's important to have something different for each section as it adds more meaning and so things don't get boring. I occasionally use overlays, only one section uses it though. I'll go over a bunch of parts where color was important.

I struggled with the colors here, it based it off of an old drawing (on the right), and I realized I couldn't make my old coloring style work again, especially with how I was going about it, nothing played off of each other and felt very icky? I opted for more natural colors, creates a better sense of what I was originally going for, this part isn't very significant but it was interesting to find out what works and doesn't, you can learn a lot from redrawing old works.

This was another part I struggled on, I purposely made One look wonky because I liked the sketch more than anything I could come up with. They really look stupid, don't they? I redrew it a bunch of times to incorporate the orange, but I did not want to base it off of the scene where One was counting down, that had a purpose for it, this did not. It was following the previous parts color, which has an overcast of orange, but I couldn't find a way for this to work without feeling unsatisfying. I opted for using a trio of blue+green+red, it could be seen as 123 but that wasn't intentional.. it was the only colors I thought could work with the lighting of One's TV, but hooray for unintentionality! It makes this part connected with the lore!

This part I put a lot of thought into! Something I found interesting about One's lounge is how it uses red+yellow+blue, the three primary colors, in design those colors are used to invoke a sense of familiarity and safety, and if you pay attention, these colors are used everywhere. this could or could not be intentional in the actual show, I do not believe they are, but I used this to my advantage as when One's walking past the figurines, the yellows increases, but when they figurines fall, the yellow fades into white to show while One tries to come across as trustworthy, their façade can be quickly broken. I put together a lot of notes for this part and drew a sketch for it too LOL

"The lights that shine" section's color were meant to be like this from the start, this was the first section I animated, they have a big contrast and yellow limbs, I only put that because I thought it looked cool, but the colors carried over to the other part where they look like this, and ended up using this palette to symbolize who was kidnapped by One. I had trouble deciding how the beams(?) that were coming out of the moon should look like though, this was what I was originally going to do. The placement of each contestant is important too, more to the front, the more they may be impacted by One. I wasn't sure between Gaty or Leafy to put in this section, since we don't know if either of them will/had contact with her, it was difficult to decide. I put Leafy instead because I didn't want to animate Gaty.

The chair for Gaty! No one mentioned this detail and I was a little sad about that - each time One's lounge is shown, there is a different chair for each contestant, if One took Gaty, it'd leave a bitter feeling if she used a similar chair to her and Two's hangout couch.. their hangout couch is already split in half, it's possible One could take half of it. The colors were based off of how the person who designed One's lounge uses colors, I used some of her personal artwork as reference, and also how the chairs shown in the lounge were designed, and each design has something to do with the characters, One's is big, to show importance and uses the primary colors, Fanny's is small and dark with shadows taking up most of it, Basketball's is big, modern and green to reflect her mechanic room, Gaty in TPOT is (unfortunately) mostly associate with Two and this couch, and is similar to a therapist's patients couch, it would fit her role and characterization in TPOT if I am right about this

This was the only section to use overlay, layer 6 and 5 were the only ones to be changing as stated in the notes, there's a lot of light changes in this sequence, and if you notice closely there's a red, a shadow casting from characters outside of ones shadow, and there's a bigger contrast between the lighting and shadows. The "lights that shine" section you'd think uses that, but everything was done manually, even the transitions colors

These are some storyboards for this, the handwriting is probably poor I apologize about that, I created this during school and I don't write neat/properly if I don't plan to show anyone it LOL

[airplanned]

Yiga!Zelda chunk time

First section of chapter 1.  In which Link has a terrible time, but at least Aryll is sweet.

Link had a grueling day of standing absolutely still along the sides of rooms, protecting twelve-year-old Lady Aryll, Duchess of Faron.  When he first greeted her, she wished him good morning, but he simply nodded to her as he fell into place three steps behind her.  Today she decided to tell him everything she knew about crows, which was her latest obsession.  She tried to convince everyone who would listen that she should have a flock of pet crows, and surely someone could make that happen.  She had an awkward breakfast with the king, who did not want to hear about crows and emphasized the vital importance of her studies. The duchess' smile did not slip as she ate her toast, but Link felt the insistence on perfection like a punch to his gut. 

She went to boring lessons in the morning, where she excelled--bright as she was--and kept trying to bring the conversation back around to corvids.  Link prayed that they would discuss something interesting since he was not allowed to zone out without putting her life at risk. 

On the way to her prayers, she asked, "Sir Link, what do you call a group of five crows and ten cuccos?" 

Answering was unnecessary.

"A murder most fowl!  Ha!"

He snorted, and she grinned, proud of herself for breaking through his stoicism.  

For the next three hours, she sat on her knees before the Goddess statue until Link approached her.  "Your Grace, you must prepare for tea."  She rose slowly, taking his hand when he offered it.  He escorted her back to her room to refresh herself, slipping her a vial of peppermint oil for her sore knees, and then escorted her to the solarium, where he had to listen intently to court gossip as he watched the fine ladies like a hawk should any of them pull a knife and lunge for his charge, should any of them slip something into her tea.  The ladies thought that crows were not at all suitable pets, but perhaps ravens would be better.  Gears began to turn in the duchess' head.

"Who is Lady Pelta?" she hissed as they made their way to dinner.  The lady had been the subject of much conversation that afternoon.

"The one with the ferret," he murmured. 

"Ohhh!  Yes, that makes more sense." 

And then there was an awkward dinner with the king and some painfully blunt lords who quizzed her on the details of her studies and then talked past her as they discussed how her prayer regimen could be altered for better results.  

Link imagined how he would punch the first lord in the face, spin to smash the next lord's head into the table, and finish the turn with another punch to a third lord's throat before he pulled himself from his fantasy and reminded himself to be on guard.

The duchess was still at an age where she wanted to stay up late, and did not want to admit that she was exhausted by nine o'clock, so it was Link's job to approach her.  "Your Grace, you have a busy day tomorrow."

She narrowed her eyes at him, and he gave her a blank stare.  "If you insist," she said, daintily removing her napkin from her lap.  Link bit back a smile.

As she entered her room with her handmaids, she said, "Goodnight, sir knight," as she always did because she liked the rhyme.

He bowed.  "Goodnight, Your Grace."

He nodded to the guard stationed at her door, handing off his protective duties, and then the rest of the evening was his.

And the only thing he wanted more than passing out and sleeping for twelve hours was to kick the crap out of something or have a really good spar.  Get his blood moving from where it sagged in his veins.  Remind his muscles what they were for, remind himself what he was capable of and why he was chosen for the honor of personal guard to the royal heir, why he was chosen by the Sword that Seals the Darkness, which was tragically quiet on his back.

So he went down to the guard's training area, where everyone gave him dirty looks, finishing up their own training abruptly and leaving.

Alone on the training floor, he allowed himself to sigh.

The sword sang as he pulled it from its scabbard.  Just the two of them then tonight.  Like always.

He'd spoken less than two dozen words today.

He set his feet and stared at his imaginary opponent, holding the defensive posture for several long beats to stretch the muscles awakening with the sword.  The first few forms were to stretch, but as the tension rolled from his shoulders the swings picked up speed, his pulse quickened and sweat raised along his hairline.

He reminded himself that the royal guard didn't hate him.  They hated the sword and how it represented the coming Calamity.  They hated the symbol.  But the sword was a part of him, and his life was a symbol, so that didn't really help.

Slash and parry and slash and stab.

They were just intimidated and jealous that he was so much more skilled than they were.  That wasn't a brag.  It was true.  There were only three royal guards who could hold their own against Link for more than a minute, and they were all ranked so high that they were too busy to spar with him and had no interest in being soundly beaten by a teenager in front of their subordinates.  Every now and then, the guards would get so ticked at him that they would come at him as a group.  That would get his blood pumping.  The problem was that when they did that, they meant it, and he actually did have to incapacitate everyone to get out unscathed and then he would get a stern lecture from one of the generals.

Slash and parry and slash and stab.

Why didn't any of them want to work on improving themselves?  Link was getting stale here with nothing to challenge him, and maybe teaching could be that challenge, maybe teaching would raise the entire level of competence among the guard.  Link was half tempted to put a sword in the duchess' hand until she improved and he would have someone to spar with.  He was half tempted to beg one of the champions to come visit or for Mipha or Urbosa to send a diplomatic entourage for no reason along with a bunch or warriors he could battle.  If not for the duchess, he would beg for a transfer.

Slash, parry, slash, stab.

"Have you ever thought of joining the Yiga?"

He spun before the words sunk in.  He'd thought he was alone

The rest of the guard had left when he came in.

And then he was facing a Yiga foot soldier, leaning against the banister at the bottom of the stairs, their arms crossed and a sickle hanging from each hand.  Their faceless head was tilted as if inspecting him.  "I think you'd do well there."

He lunged.  Just before his blade skewered them, they teleported in a puff of smoke and a flutter of red tickets.  He spun, and his sword caught against their sickles.

"You’re fast.  The Yiga appreciate speed."

The Yiga's voice was light and lyrical.  A woman.

He shoved, pushing her back and back and back, quick footwork and his sword working double time to block and push.  She alternated slashing her sickles in quick twists of her wrist and in full body swings with more power than he would expect of her small frame behind them.  He had to duck and dodge and dart, the length of his reach made null when she pushed in close, and then immediately necessary again when he won another step of ground.  He pushed all the way until she was a single step from the wall and his blade was at her throat, caught an inch from her skin by both her sickles.

They wrestled and he glared, his sword caught, the muscles of his arm straining, just an inch away from ending her.  Just.  One.  Inch.  The sickles trembled as she pushed back, and he allowed himself a small smile of victory.

But then the trembling stopped.  She leaned forward as if there was no strain at all in her arms and shoulders and core.  As if she'd been putting on a show of a struggle and now she was bored.  "You're strong too.  We could have a lot of fun together.”

He didn't let his surprise show.  He threw a punch at her gut with his free hand, but she poofed away and he stumbled forward before spinning, ready for the next attack.

She whispered in his ear, "So grumpy."

He hissed and twisted, and she caught his blade against her own, twisting and locking, and suddenly she had the sword locked between both sickles in one hand.  With her free hand, she reached out and dragged a gloved finger from his forehead to the tip of his nose.

He twisted the sword free, scattering her sickles across the floor, and the sword spun in an arc to slam against her side, caught at the last minute by a knife. 

She laughed and leaned in.   "Think about it."

He stumbled as she vanished.

Link stood at the ready for a stressed minute, his eyes darting about the room, waiting for her next attack. Then he dashed up the stairs, but there was no sign of her there or in the hallway beyond.  An then he was running for the general's office, praying he was still around and could sound the alarm.

[tsarisfanfiction]

Colour symbol ask:

Fluff: grey: maturity

Gordon & Alan

Secret Tunnel

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: Alan, Gordon

Well, my muses have come to life again, which is both great for my mental state and annoying timing with regards to the uni work I'm supposed to be doing, but I'll make it work :D

After making a Military Bros masterpost of everything I've written for those two for Military Bros Day, I started thinking about all the different brother duos and how much I've written for each of them. Now, I might be forgetting something, but the one combination I don't recall writing anything for at all is Gordon&Alan, so I poked at my muses and we came up with this!

It's only a loose tie-in to the prompt, I think, but some sensible Tinies content counts as being mature, right?

Colour Symbol Prompts

“So.” Alan glanced up at his brother, raising an eyebrow at the drawl. “Do you want the good news or the bad news?” Gordon continued, tone light in a way that would have been disarming if it wasn’t Gordon, and they weren’t in the remains of a collapsed building.

“What’s the bad news?” he asked, rolling his shoulder. It was stiff, vocally complaining at the movement, and Alan was well aware that without the pauldrons his overprotective brothers had thrown on his uniform before letting him join IR it would be a lot worse. While none of the debris had hit either of them directly, some smaller chunks of masonry had glanced off his left shoulder.

Gordon’s sharp amber eyes tracked the motion even as his brother spoke. “Well, the bad news is that our comms are down.” Alan had suspected as such, but the fact still dumped a heavy weight on his chest. No comms meant no John, no Scott or Virgil, no help from outside. He didn’t like being cut off from his brothers at the best of times, and this was hardly the best of times.

Still, he at least had one brother this time, and despite his penchant for not taking things seriously at home, when out on a mission, Gordon was as reliable as they came. They might not have Thunderbird Five’s data at their disposal, or Scott’s leadership, or Virgil’s muscles, but they did have two working brains between them.

Panicking, as Alan had learnt the hard way on other rescues where things went wrong, did him no favours at all. He swallowed back the instinctual panic and met Gordon’s eyes in the artificial half light of the glowstick from Gordon’s baldric.

“So what’s the good news?” he asked.

“The good news,” Gordon said with a flourish and grin reserved for when things weren’t going their way and Alan’s immediate brother decided the world wasn’t allowed to do that, “is that I think I’ve found us a way out.”

“You think?” Alan couldn’t help but question, even though he was already scrabbling his way to his feet and looking around in the hopes of seeing whatever Gordon had found.

“Over here.” He followed the glowstick as Gordon headed over towards where the rubble looked the thickest, blocking them in. “There’s air flowing in.”

Neither of their uniforms offered much by way of exposed skin, but Alan leaned down where Gordon gestured and took off his helmet just long enough to feel a faint breeze on his cheek.

“Where’s that coming from?” he asked, tugging his helmet back on. Gordon pointed at the floor, or what had once been the floor.

“It’s coming from down there,” he said.

“The floor?” Alan knelt down where Gordon gestured. “Why would it be coming from the- oh.”

The house they’d been in, and were now trapped inside, had been an old one. Alan didn’t remember the exact age, but it was a couple of centuries old at least. Old houses, especially larger ones, had secret passageways.

“So how do we get it open?” he wondered out loud, already rummaging around the area. Gordon crouched down next to him with a shrug as his hands joined Alan’s in trying to find a way to open the passageway that had to be there if they were getting airflow.

“Figured finding ways to open secret passages was more your thing,” his brother admitted. “Don’t those games of yours have secret passageways in all the time?”

The question was an honest one, and Alan blinked. “Well, yeah,” he said, “but those are games. This is real. It won’t be the same.” Despite his words, his fingers were still pulling and pushing at the stones that made up the floor, because at least it was a lead.

They could, of course, wait for their bigger brothers to barge their way in, with Virgil encased in his exosuit and Scott so close behind he’d be standing on his heels while John guided them non-stop over the comms, but there was still a lot of work to be done and they were deep inside the building.

Said building took that moment to groan again, threatening another collapse if they didn’t get out pronto. Alan loved his brothers, but he wasn’t about to get crushed because he’d waited helplessly for rescue. The danger zone covered a large area, and while he and Gordon had found no casualties in their sector, Virgil and Scott would have to prioritise the civilians elsewhere no matter how much they might be panicking about losing contact with the pair of them.

If he and Gordon could find their own way out, so much the better.

“It’s close enough, right?” Gordon shrugged, still sounding inappropriately light-hearted for the situation. Alan didn’t take it personally – Gordon’s coping strategies had time and time proven themselves to be effective.

“I’ll let you know,” he grunted, finding ridges in the stone floor. “Bring that light closer. I think I’ve got something.”

The sickly green glow spread across more of his vision as Gordon held it close to his hands, illuminating the remains of the floor below them. There were multiple ridges carved into the stone, all uniform and completely mundane.

Except for the section that wasn’t.

Alan almost missed it, huffing in defeat as he sat on his haunches and rubbed at his shoulder again. At a glance, it looked no different to the rest of the floor, but it had caught his glove in a way the others hadn’t. It was also in the same place as the mysterious airflow.

Gloved fingers scrabbled at the discrepancy, hunting for a purchase that would hopefully reveal their way out. Gordon had moved to crouch right next to him, holding the glowstick aloft but otherwise keeping his hands to himself and leaving the investigation to Alan. His presence there was comforting, helping Alan to keep it together when part of him wanted to scream into his dead comms in the hope that John would pick it up anyway.

There was a click, barely audible over the noise of creaking masonry in their immediate vicinity. Alan felt it rather than heard it, his fingers suddenly pressing down as the resistance vanished. Age old mechanisms whirred back into life, until with a clunk part of the floor moved down and to the side, revealing a small, dark, passageway leading down into the belly of the house.

“Nice one,” Gordon acknowledged, leaning forwards and peering into the inky depths. A second glowstick was snapped and tossed in, illuminating what was definitely a rough-hewn rock corridor. “I’ll go first.”

He was halfway in by the time the words registered, and Alan peered at the opening with some reluctance. “And you’re sure this will get us out?” he checked, because he didn’t want to wait to be rescued like a civilian, but he also had no intentions of being buried alive.

“That air’s coming from somewhere,” Gordon reminded him, edging forwards a few more paces until he reached the glowstick laying where it had landed on the floor of the corridor. “And the roof of this thing seems pretty sturdy.” He rapped it a couple of times with his knuckles. “If the rest of the house collapses, this’ll be the last thing to go.”

A glance around showed that his brother was probably right. Alan swallowed before following him inside, sticking right on Gordon’s heels as the older blond led the way, glowstick held up high for light.

As far as passages went, it was small. Apt for a secret passage, but annoying when the ceiling lowered and the pair of them had to stoop almost double to get through some sections. It twisted and turned, in some areas narrow enough to force them to go through sideways, and at one point the way forwards seemed to vanish altogether before Alan realised a shaft of rock was concealing the next section.

It definitely lived up to its likely original purpose of a secret escape. Pursuing someone through there would be difficult; luckily, the only aim Alan and Gordon had was getting out of the collapsed building.

The first sign of the outside world was when their comms crackled in unison. It was impossible to make anything out through the static, but the garbled voice of John was definitely missing the calm tones their ginger brother usually deployed on rescues. Scott’s response was short and sharp, clipped in a way that screamed panic, and the low rumble of Virgil felt on edge, too.

Returning comms promised that they had to nearly be out, and Alan stumbled forwards, almost catching himself with his painful shoulder before he arrested his momentum with his healthy arm instead.

Neither he nor Gordon spoke, even though he was certain the same thoughts had to be running through his brother’s head as well. They were close, but they weren’t out yet, and had no reassurance that the exit for the secret tunnel hadn’t been collapsed or buried by more falling debris.

Still, it remained the best chance they had. Alan didn’t fancy trailing back through the passageway and sitting back in the rubble of the building, and he knew Gordon felt the same, so pushing onwards was their only choice. It continued to twist and turn, dog-legging and backtracking with no apparent rhyme nor reason. Alan tried to keep track of it in his head, logging it like any secret passage in Cavern Quest, but it put all the virtual ones to shame.

Then Gordon stopped, and Alan walked straight into him.

“Ow!” he exclaimed instinctively, before stepping back a pace. “Why have we stopped?”

“It doesn’t go any further,” Gordon said, holding the glowstick high. It was running out of juice, leaving the sickly green glow far fainter than it had been earlier. It was barely enough light to make out his brother’s face, let alone whatever the rocks surrounding them were doing. “This must be the end.”

“So get us out,” Alan shrugged, rubbing his shoulder and trying to hide the wince of pain that came with the action. Their comms were still broadcasting garbled static interspersed with panicked voices, but the signal was still too poor to even attempt to get hold of John. “There’ll be a mechanism somewhere. Try looking for something slightly off in the ridges on the stone?”

“Trying,” Gordon grunted. The faint green-lit silhouette of his shoulders strained as he pushed and pulled at the rocks. “Not finding anything, Alan.”

“Let me try.” He pushed forwards, trying to squeeze past Gordon to get a better look at the wall of rock blocking their way. Gordon fell back without complaint, although it took a lot of pushing and pulling, and a concerning scrape against his helmet before they managed it.

Alan was struck by a flash of gratitude that none of their older brothers were with them. Scott and John would both be too tall, and Virgil was too bulky. Getting through the passageway with one of them would have been a nightmare. At least he hadn’t yet stopped growing and Gordon was small – not that he planned on mentioning that to Gordon just yet. There was a time and a place for the teasing, and this was neither.

With Gordon now behind him, looming over his shoulder with the ever-fading glowstick held out helpfully in his periphery, Alan reached out and felt around for something similar to the switch he’d found to get them into the tunnel from the other end. Carefully uniform ridges carved across the rock and he followed them with his fingers until, finally, something gave.

Bright light spilled in as the end of the tunnel opened, blinding him with midday sun.

That, however, paled in comparison to the way both their comm audios suddenly sharpened.

“Any sign of them?” Scott’s voice demanded.

“Keep working on getting the mother out of that room,” John non-answered, still sounding far too on edge. “Virgil, there’s a small life sign the other side of the wall.”

“F.A.B.” The forced calm of Virgil’s voice told Alan he was no less agitated than the other two.

“Hey guys.” Gordon chipped in, echoing in Alan’s helmet from the comm channel in stereo with the sound of his voice in real time. “Where do you need us, Thunderbird Five?”

“Gordon!” All three voices overlapped in frantic cacophony. “Where are you?” Scott demanded. “Where’s Alan? Are you okay?”

“I’m here, too,” Alan promised.

“We’re fine,” Gordon added. “Who’s left to save?”

“Virgil and Scott are on the last life signs now,” John told them. “Your signals have reappeared a fair way out from the danger zone; get yourselves back to Thunderbird Two.”

Alan looked around and realised he was right – the two Thunderbirds gleamed in the sunlight, but it was immediately clear that the passageway they’d taken had led almost directly away from the crafts. Even in a straight line, the walk was going to take a good quarter of an hour.

Next to him, Gordon sighed and started walking. “F.A.B.,” he agreed. Alan stumbled a little as he lurched forwards to keep up. “We’ll see you there.”

Sure enough, by the time they arrived, both on-site brothers were waiting impatiently. It was clear that it was only the presence of their rescuees that had stopped them from striking out to meet them, but even that wasn’t enough to stop their big brothers charging towards them as soon as they were visible.

Scott reached them first, always the fastest runner, and Alan let out an oof as he was crushed into a frantic hug alongside Gordon. Worried blue eyes looked them both over, narrowing as they found something they didn’t like.

He was pushed aside as Virgil reached them, Thunderbird Two’s pilot refraining from giving them a bear hug only because he’d clearly spotted the scrape on Alan’s helmet as he’d approached.

“Are you hurt?” A medscanner was deployed almost before Virgil was finished talking. Scott didn’t wait for permission from anyone before carefully detaching Alan’s helmet and peering at his head. Alan didn’t bother to stop him.

“I’m fine!” he made sure to protest, though, although his hand betrayed him as it subconsciously moved across to rub at his shoulder again. None of his brothers missed the action, and before he knew it he was being whisked inside the green Thunderbird so Virgil could take a closer look.

Scott hovered worriedly by his side, glancing over periodically at Gordon. Alan followed suit, catching Gordon’s eye, and his brother rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. It was fond, though; Alan wasn’t at all surprised by Scott and Virgil’s behaviour, and he highly doubted Gordon was, either.

It was just a hazard of having older brothers.

[fictionadventurer]

A musical Out of the Tomb, or any others of your works?

I didn’t think I had any ideas for this, but then I had A Lot. I apologize in advance.

I didn’t think “Out of the Tomb” would have many good places for songs, but now my imaginary musical is all but sung-through. A few pedestrian portions that are pure speech, but otherwise all music.

Except for one key exception. Tanza. Everyone around her is singing most of the time, but for most of the musical, she’s either the speaking counterpart to another singer, or Rex-Harrison-esque sing-talking her musical pieces. I’m not sure if it would actually work in practice, or if it would just create an odd musical imbalance, but it makes character sense.

Auren’s likely a tenor/baritone. His singing style should be subtly old-fashioned. Maybe a touch of that 1940s vibrato.

Keffer’s a baritone. (Think Gaston). Actually an excellent singing voice, but his songs are full of odd meter and slant rhymes, which Tanza always reacts to with contempt.

Imaginary Musical Summary

We open with Tanza breaking into the tomb and sing-talking her I Am/I Want song (”Treasures of the Dead”). Mostly cynical/cheeky, as she’s grateful that these dead rich folks leave such good stuff for her to steal, and establishing that she knows her stuff. Some choreography as she dodges some Indiana-Jones style traps. A few portions where she gets close to actual singing, during a few quiet lines that suggest she wants a life beyond this, but she quickly snaps back into her comfortable sing-talk rhythm.

Slight variation/reprise of that song as she first catches sight of the “dead” Auren and moves onto the next room, which is cut off abruptly as she’s interrupted by Auren’s entrance--a sung line that’s all the more shocking because it’s more musical than any song in the musical so far. 

After Tanza recovers from the shock, they fly into a  little singing/talking duet where countering accusations are flying back-and-forth (”A Thief!”) until Tanza realizes who he is, and there’s another dramatic pause for this to sink in.

Then comes the Exposition Song (”History 101″), of all the history leading up to this moment. Auren and Tanza to one side of the stage, while the main area of the stage shows scenes of the history they’re talking about. Three sections: one fast-paced patter song dominated by Tanza, as she explains the hundred years of history Auren’s missed; one more musical/meditative as Auren explains the events that led up to him being put in stasis; and then a section sung by the historical people as Tanza and Auren watch the “security video” showing the people leaving Auren behind and going unwittingly to their deaths . That third section’s seemingly cheerful but with subtly ominous/mournful instrumental backing, and in the subdued silence that follows Tanza’s realization of what happened, Tanza wraps everything up with an upbeat callback to her section (something along the lines of “and that’s History 101″, where she’s trying to be matter-of-fact, but it’s obvious that this cheer is very forced).

As they’re “traveling” back to the city (probably on a catwalk above the stage now), Auren gets his I Am Song (”A Virtuous Prince”) and during part of it, the main stage shows the reenactment of his naming day and the rest of it is explaining his philosophy of virtue. It’s a lovely song, but Tanza is Not Impressed.

Scene change, now the set is Keffer’s building. When Auren and Keffer first meet, there’s a cluttered, fast-paced song of mutual confusion (”What In the World Is That?”) as Tanza struggles to answer their questions about each other.

Keffer takes Tanza to the part of the stage that serves as his office, where he tries to convince her to take advantage of this windfall (”A Just Reward”), and when that fails, to convince her to use her upcoming road trip with Auren for criminal purposes. Through this, Tanza’s purely speaking in reaction to Keffer’s singing. (I imagine this sounding similar to some of Pulitzer’s villain songs in Newsies).

When they’re on the road to Alogath (sitting in a car as the projected scenery moves behind them) Auren gets a dreamy little meditative song about the changes to his planet (”A Lovely World”). Cut to a screeching halt (both musically and physically) as Auren realizes where the car came from, segue into a cluttered argument song (”A Thief!” [Reprise]) that ends with Tanza storming off, getting into danger (the deathtail’s a borderline campy puppet) and getting saved by Auren.

As Tanza struggles to understand Auren’s actions, he explains himself in song (”Common Decency”) to which Tanza joins in with a couple lines that are almost musical as she realizes his philosophy isn’t just fluffy, high-minded talk. Then Auren starts suggesting Tanza take a virtue name (”Better Than You Were”) and she reacts with purely spoken scorn.

Scene cut to Tanza’s delivery to Berimac. After Auren interferes, Berimac gets his I Am/Villain Song (”Retired”) where he explains that everything in the world (especially humans) is dangerous and he wants to live quietly and safely in seclusion. This is the loudest, most flamboyant, Show-Stopping musical number in the show. With a chorus members and dancers coming out of nowhere to add to the production. Because I think that’s funny.

Argument song between Tanza and Auren after that number ends, leading to reconciliation that surprises Tanza (”Unexpected”). Ends with Auren heading off-stage and Tanza getting a few meditative lines that again, are almost musical.

The rural festival is a song mostly sung by Auren, with support from a chorus of townspeople as he introduces Tanza to the celebration (”Newfangled Tradition”). It’s the happiest, most upbeat number in the show. The one that’ll be stuck in your head after everything’s over. Probably includes a dance interlude, a la Tangled’s “Kingdom Dance”.

Then when everyone’s happy, stage gets dark, there’s warning music, and everyone freaks out as there’s a Villain Chorus song by Cornerstone fighters explaining their philosophy and plans (”Saviors of the World”). Lots of black-clothed people lit by red and orange lighting and ending with the explosion. Musical interlude at the end by Tanza and Auren as they decide to sneak away.

Clear away the town scenery and the other people so we’re in an empty daytime forest scene. Auren chooses the virtue name for Tanza (”Pure of Heart”). She responds with a sing-talk explanation of all the reasons she can’t change (”History 101″ [Reprise]). But when Auren goes off-stage, she considers the name and wonders if he maybe has a point (”Better Than You Were” [Reprise]). And this time, she’s singing. It’s very quiet, very hesitant, and it slips back into sing-talking at points, but for the first-time, it’s actual singing. Off-stage, Auren calls out, wondering where Tanza is. “Coming,” she responds in flat speech.

In Alogath, Auren gets a sad little song about all the people he’s lost (”Faces and Names”), after which Tanza goes off for her final delivery, finds out what it is, and rushes back to confront Keffer (who’s in a separate area and lit so it’s clear that this is being done over video-call). They argue (”A Just Reward” [Reprise]) with Tanza now dominating but sing-talking her parts, and then Tanza quits. When she meets up with Auren, she tells him what she’s done in a quiet, uncertain little song, with Auren jumping in to support her with a more confident and melodic counterpoint (”A Better Life”).

Cornerstone comes to “rescue” Auren while trying to persuade him of his place in their Just and Worthy Cause (”Saviors of the World” [Reprise]). Auren argues to save Tanza’s life (”Heroic Virtue”), stage goes black as Tanza’s left alone and unconscious.

She comes to, frets in a sing-talky manner (”Making Plans”), when she gets the call from Keffer. She realizes what he’s done and they argue, with Tanza accusing him of being the worst of people while he argues that it’s only sensible given their line of work (”Criminal”). It gets faster, more flustered and more intense, until Tanza lets loose a frustrated scream.

But as the sound’s sustained, we realize she’s not screeching--she’s singing. Not only can Tanza sing, she can Belt. The lights around Keffer go black (as if the sound’s shattered the spotlight), and Tanza finally gets an outright musical number that shows she’s been a strong mezzo-soprano this whole time, a song about her intention to rescue Auren and change her life (”Out of the Tomb”). It starts out as intense righteous anger and morphs into determined righteous purpose, but it always shows off her musical strength. (It’s that type of song that tends to become an audition standard).

She goes to rescue Auren in a scene whose choreography recalls her first break-in during the opening number, and then she finds Auren. He’s with Berimac and the Cornerstone fighter on the main stage while Tanza’s hiding on a catwalk. There’s an argument between Auren and Cornerstone, with Auren’s part reusing the tune from “A Virtuous Prince”, Berimac and the Cornerstone fighter countering with the tune of “Savior of the World” and Tanza providing a counterpoint descant using the tune of “Out of the Tomb” as she ponders what to do.

Just as Auren and Berimac’s argument reaches a fever pitch, it’s cut off mid-note by Tanza jumping from the balcony and landing in the middle of the scene. If it’s done right, it should sound like a cannon.

As Tanza and Auren make their escape, there’s a frenzied little number between them and Berimac that’s slightly sung but mostly speech (”The Escape”) during which we learn (through a few off-hand, gasping lines) of Tanza’s injury (but Auren doesn’t).

They make their escape and Tanza collapses. She shouldn’t be able to talk, but this is a musical and What Is Realism? So we get a heartbreaking “A Little Fall of Rain” style duet between her and Auren (”Pure of Heart” [Reprise]). And when Auren makes his phone call for help and recites all his names, it could go one of two ways. Either it’s a Belted piece of music, the musical high point of his character, or it’s shouted speech, which given that 99% of his lines so far have been sung, should be shocking to the audience and drive home the fact that this is Serious Business.

Then Tanza recovers and wakes up in the hospital, where Auren informs her of her new celebrity and pardon (”Heroic Virtue” [Reprise]), Tanza has a pretty little interlude to ponder this unexpected windfall (”Unexpected” [Reprise]). Close the show with a lovely, perfectly harmonizing duet between Tanza and Auren about their hopes for the future (”A Better Life” [Reprise]).

And we’ve finally reached the end and you have more detail than anyone in any world has ever wanted. I spent like two whole days thinking about this. I need new hobbies.

[thesinglesjukebox]

THE NATIONAL - YOU HAD YOUR SOUL WITH YOU

[5.20]

Ooh, you had your soul with you...

Joshua Copperman: I Am Easy To Find is the most challenging The National have been to date, for both intentional reasons and some less intentional ones. All the hallmarks of a great National song are here: production loaded with ear candy (like that guitar line or the third time they've abruptly entered a string interlude), Bryan Devendorf's torrential downpour of snares. But Gail Ann Dorsey merely fills in for Matt Berninger on the bridge rather than complementing him, and the lyrics, written by Matt's wife Carin Besser with Thomas Bartlett, sound increasingly like self-parody -- "I had only one last feather left/I wore it on the island of my head" is like someone threw Boxer into a neuralnet. High Violet has aged well because its songs were whittled down into their best possible forms, the band's internal tension giving way to external effortlessness. I Am Easy To Find has elements of that effortlessness, but this first single is one of a few moments where high-budget gimmicks just barely elevate mid-tier National songs. Yet, they do. [8]

Alfred Soto: The National record music for men who order Pink Rabbits on weekends and smoke too many cigarettes when their wives "let" them go to concerts. No National single lacks for odd hooks: here, the distorted guitar figure ping-ponging between speakers, an ace string section interlude, and the usual Bryan Devendorf kinetics behind the drum kit. Momentum and an attractively meaningless title -- ho hum, another National single. [6]

Tim de Reuse: So, what is this -- rather, what was this supposed to be? Dry, cluttered electronics under heavily-compressed drums under a soppy string arrangement under a nursery-rhyme melody: none of these pieces fit together. The more you listen, the more incomprehensible details float groggily to the surface. Why does it feel like they forgot to unmute the bass track before exporting? Why are the hi-hats exiled to the edges of human perception? Why feature a guest vocalist if you're not going to let her do anything? Perhaps the most confusing part is that The National could've easily continued selling out stadiums for decades to come by just writing High Violet over and over again, which shouldn't be hard given that from 2005 to 2013 they basically released one really good album four times with increasing amounts of reverb. That's not the outcome I dream about for a band I have this much emotional investment in, but I'd rather daydream about that than listen to this awkward pileup. [2]

Thomas Inskeep: This doesn't sound like anything I've heard recently; it sounds original, the sound of a band in the studio doing lots of things they've never tried before because they've realized they can. And on this song at least, the National can -- this is dynamite, especially drum-wise. And that's before the unexpected vocal appearance of Gail Ann Dorsey, whose rich, full voice initially sounds as if dropped in from another song. And her harmonizing with Matt Berninger is gorgeous. [7]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: Matt Berninger's rich baritone was always one of The National's big draws, or at least one of the only things that made them stand out. The other: Bryan Devendorf's ability to make his drums sound simultaneously austere and elastic. Removing one of these elements isn't a complete dealbreaker, but the skittering electronics here are shallow ornamentations that show how the band is running out of ideas. [3]

Vikram Joseph: Bryan Devendorf's percussion has always been the National's secret weapon, giving their songs a skittish, propulsive anxiety that tessellates perfectly with Matt Berninger's strange metaphors and sad non-sequiturs. But despite its kineticism, it feels effortless, an integral part of the song. On "You Had Your Soul With You", the percussion becomes a jarring, distracting sideshow, as if it and the jittery synths are pursing each other around the back of a stage while a key expository scene unfolds in the foreground. It's no coincidence that the strongest part by far is the lush, string-soaked middle eight, where guest vocalist Gail Ann Dorsey delivers the best line in the song: "You have no idea how hard I died when you left." Her vocals fold beautifully into Berninger's, and the many female guest slots on the forthcoming album bode well (who can forget the shatteringly beautiful duet between Berninger and Annie Clark on their cover of "Sleep All Summer"?). The band's clumsy, scattershot use of electronics, however, does not. [5]

Josh Love: I feel like a hypocrite pushing back against this brighter, more dynamic iteration of The National after I'd gotten so ground down by their miserablist shades of gray that I didn't even bother giving their last album a fair shake (and I counted myself a big fan even up to and including Trouble Will Find Me). Still, "You Had Your Soul With You" just sounds like Vampire Weekend's or St. Vincent's nervy, busy aesthetics lazily grafted onto Matt Berninger's solemn vocal burr. [5]

Katherine St Asaph: A genuinely striking intro -- those 15 seconds of jerky guitar panning are both arresting and a great test of whether one of your earbuds has crapped out -- built on the watery foundation of a song by Coldplay, or for that matter The National. The former sinks into the mush; the latter twitches with the fripperies too much to swoon. [5]

Iris Xie: "You Had Your Soul With You" just reminds me of the discomfort of trying to listen through some of my brother's early '00s alt rock as a 10-year-old, and trying to understand what was so good and "adult" about it, and was I missing something? (The answer is no.) This sounds like someone trying to make a drum and bass track, but with... actual instruments? The sensation of listening to this song is like watching a Windows Media Player equalizer move and shudder around, and you pay more attention to the little spiky discrepancies than the song. I do like the post-chorus instrumental where the discordant drum work suddenly opens up, like the sun after the rain has ended, but then the muddiness resumes. Combine this with a smooth but slightly suffocated delivery, and I feel messier and scattered than before I started listening to the song. I guess that suits the lyrics, but the song sounds unclear, even to itself. [5]

Iain Mew: For all the superficial electronic additions, it sounds vital in a classic, immediately familiar way that The National haven't in a while. Matt Berninger is once again a man suspended in crisis, picking his way between collapsing velvet walls in total calm while the drums tell of secret adrenaline surges. Well, the first half does anyway. The second half is new in a different way, with its open expanses, Gail Ann Dorsey guest vocals and accelerating string arrangement that had me searching "You Had Your Soul With You" + "Owen Pallett." They each work, but the resulting feeling is a bit awkward: two contrasting styles of "return to form," squashed into one track. [6]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[ohakosubs]

The Japanese Belly Button, 1977 dir. Eizo Sugawa

status: completed download here

**translation notes:**

・The opening scene features a play on the Japanese alphabet, “hiragana” (and/or “katakana”). The way it is ordered is first by initial vowels and then consonants added to the vows through consecutive row groupings: learning the Japanese alphabet is often done by reciting, “a-i-u-e-o” followed by the consonant additions "ka-ki-ku-ke-ko, sa-shi-su-se-so” and so on. Because of the versatility of the Japanese language, each final syllable in these rows can be swapped for an honorary suffix that has the same pronunciation - “ko”, for example, can also mean Duke or Lord, and “so” can also mean Priest. I’ve kept in these clever double entendres where possible, while keeping the consonant rows as is. ・ During the cast introductions in the opening scene, the Professor mentions that the man that plays the head of the Patriotic Youth Action Committee (not a real organisation I believe, but perhaps a reference to the Great Japan Patriotic Party: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Japan_Patriotic_Party) received shock as a result of the Emperor’s “self-denouncement”. This is a reference to Ningen Sengen, otherwise known as the ‘Humanity Declaration’, an announcement made by the Emperor in January 1946 that was essentially an official declaration that he was not part of a bloodline descended from the god Amaterasu. This understandably upset a lot of nationalists. Here is a great breakdown of the announcement itself: http://www.ageekinjapan.com/humanity-declaration-%E4%BA%BA%E9%96%93%E5%AE%A3%E8%A8%80-ningen-sengen/ ・Interestingly, the Japanese version of “like chalk and cheese”, which I opted to use in the translation, is “like the moon and a turtle”. ・Agnes Lum was primarily a bikini model in the 70s, which explains the comment that she wasn’t a very good singer. ・The scene where the Tokyo University student introduces the method of Japanese-English word association features a lot of Japanese onomatopoeic expressions. As I’ve included in the subtitles, words like hatto can mean “taken aback”, but of course also spells out the Japanese phonetic pronunciation of the English word “hat”. The scene plays on these witty associations, also including do-gu do-gu which is the sound of pumping liquid (probably), and pakupaku which is the sound of someone eating.  ・The Tokyo University student refers to the cleaning shop owner as a “Tora-san lookalike” - Tora-san is an incredibly popular and well-loved character from the comedy series “Otoko wa Tsurai yo”, whom Wikipedia refers to as “a kind-hearted vagabond who is always unlucky in love”. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Otoko_wa_Tsurai_yo)

・A little different from the Western connotation, “cabaret” in Japanese means an adult club where men go to be entertained by hostesses.  ・In the Turkish baths scene, there is a play on the Japanese word sei, which can refer to someone’s pure spirit or sperm/semen - which works out fantastically given the situation it is used in in the movie. The proper Japanese word for “semen” can be literally translated to “spirit fluid”.  ・Also in the Turkish baths massage scene, there is an extensive play on words that only makes sense in Japanese. It’s nearly impossible to translate this scene while retaining the rhyming rhythm against the nonsensical meaning of each of the words - so I simply chose to go the nonsensical route. The conversation Helen has with her customer isn’t particularly important, but I’ve attempted to at least clearly illustrate when they start talking about the strip club, which leads Helen to become a stripper.  ・The repetitive song featuring the lyrics “How do you write the ‘i’ in ‘i-ro-ha’?” is referencing an old Japanese ordering of syllables: “i-ro-ha-ni-ho-he-to”. This particular order of syllables, still often used today, was used in somewhat the same way that English sometimes uses Roman numerals or the Greek ordering of alpha-beta-gamma and so on; for example, the notes from A to G on a piano are often referenced using this system: A is “i”, B is “ro”, C is “ha” and so on. The “iroha” ordering system is also often referred to as what we call “the ABCs of something” - for example, when learning something for the first time you have to start with the ABCs, or the “iroha” if you will. ・During the “Japan’s bosses” song, one character sings a lot about love between men. He uses the Japanese verb horu which can mean to dig into or dig out, but is often used to allude to anal sex; while before that he uses the verb horeru which not only sounds similar but means “to be in love with”. I tried to bridge the gap between all these entendres by using the word “into”.  Elsewhere in the same song, there is a section about the importance of “faces” in Japan. The word for “face”, kao, can also mean your influence or reputation, to the point where having a wide network and well-known reputation is expressed with a phrase that literally means “your face is wide”. Luckily in English we have (or used to have) expressions that are similar, such as “to save face”, which are used in this translation too.  Again in the same “bosses” song, one character mentions haragei, which literally means “belly art/technique”, and pertains to a certain Japanese culture of expressing intent through implication. It’s a word that doesn’t exactly have an English translation, but given the context, I chose to describe it as “battle it out with personalities”, which is essentially what the character is referring to when talking about Japan's politicians and their bellies.  ・During the investigation scene towards the end, Funayama’s secretary mentions Kosuke Kindaichi, who, like Agatha Christie’s Poirot, was a famous detective character featured extensively in the mystery novels of Seishi Yokomizo.  ・Funayama’s secretary passively references a host of one-liner catch phrases mostly from Japanese commercials of the 70s, as a way of saying “the times are changing”. I’ve decided to keep the catch phrases in almost verbatim, but for most of us who are unlikely to have watched lots of television in Japan in the 70s, here are some videos of the commercials he references for some background: - “Happa fumi—fumi”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WfGBiQsvbHE - “I Am A Champion”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o0_HMJtSP14