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spearheadsofgod · 1 year ago

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From Silent Films to Cinematic Symphonies https://spearheadsofgod.com/from-silent-films-to-cinematic-symphonies/?feed_id=302 We're thrilled to present our newest article, hot from the press; we eagerly await your thoughts and hope it provides an engaging and enlightening read for you! Film scores are an integral part of the cinematic experience, creating mood, emotion, and atmosphere for the audience. Film scores can also enhance the narrative, character, and theme of the film, as well as provide cultural and historical context. But how did film scores evolve from the simple accompaniment of silent films to the complex and diverse symphonies of today? In this article, we will explore the history and development of film music, from its origins to its current trends and challenges.The Origins of Film MusicThe first films were silent, but not soundless. Since the late 19th century, filmmakers used live music to accompany their moving images, either by hiring musicians or using mechanical devices such as phonographs or pianolas. The music served various purposes: it masked the noise of the projector, it provided emotional cues for the audience, and it filled the gaps in the narrative.The earliest film music was not original, but borrowed from existing sources, such as classical music, folk songs, popular tunes, or operas. The choice of music depended on the availability of the musicians, the preference of the exhibitor, and the genre and mood of the film. Sometimes, the music was synchronized with the action on the screen, creating a sense of realism and continuity. Other times, the music was contrasting or ironic, creating a sense of humor or tension.Some filmmakers experimented with more innovative ways of using music in their films. For example, in 1895, the Lumière brothers hired a pianist to play a specific piece for each of their short films https://www.oxfordstudent.com/2017/05/28/brief-history-film-score-lumieres-present-day/. In 1908, Camille Saint-Saëns composed an original score for L'Assassinat du Duc de Guise, one of the first films to have a dedicated composerhttps://www.oxfordstudent.com/2017/05/28/brief-history-film-score-lumieres-present-day/. In 1915, D.W. Griffith commissioned a full orchestral score for his epic The Birth of a Nation, which was synchronized with the film using a system of cue sheetshttps://www.oxfordstudent.com/2017/05/28/brief-history-film-score-lumieres-present-day/.The Golden Age of Film MusicThe advent of sound films in the late 1920s changed the landscape of film music. Sound films allowed filmmakers to record dialogue, sound effects, and music on the same soundtrack, creating a more immersive and realistic experience for the audience. Sound films also enabled filmmakers to use more sophisticated and diverse musical styles and techniques, such as leitmotifs, themes that are associated with specific characters or situations.The golden age of film music is generally considered to span from the 1930s to the 1950s, when Hollywood studios produced some of their most iconic and influential films and film scores. During this period, film composers were influenced by various musical traditions, such as classical music, jazz, folk music, and musical theater. Some of the most prominent film composers of this era were Max Steiner, Erich Wolfgang Korngold, Alfred Newman, Bernard Herrmann, Miklós Rózsa, Dimitri Tiomkin, and Franz Waxman.Some of the characteristics of film music in this period were:• The use of large orchestras and symphonic forms• The use of leitmotifs and thematic development• The use of contrapuntal and chromatic techniques• The use of source music and diegetic music• The use of musical genres and styles that matched the setting and period of the film• The use of musical references and quotations that enhanced the meaning and mood of the filmSome examples of film scores from this period are:• King Kong (1933), composed by Max Steiner. This score is considered one of the first examples

of a fully symphonic film score that used leitmotifs and musical effects to create a sense of drama and suspense.• The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), composed by Erich Wolfgang Korngold. This score is considered one of the best examples of a swashbuckling film score that used colorful orchestration and melodic themes to create a sense of adventure and romance.• Gone with the Wind (1939), composed by Max Steiner. This score is considered one of the most epic and sweeping film scores that used a variety of musical styles and motifs to depict the historical and emotional saga of the film.• Citizen Kane (1941), composed by Bernard Herrmann. This score is considered one of the most innovative and influential film scores that used modernist and expressionist techniques to create a complex and psychological portrait of the film's protagonist.• Casablanca (1942), composed by Max Steiner. This score is considered one of the most romantic and nostalgic film scores that used source music and original themes to create a sense of mood and atmosphere for the film's setting and characters.• The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957), composed by Malcolm Arnold. This score is considered one of the most ironic and subversive film scores that used musical contrasts and quotations to create a sense of humor and tension for the film's plot and theme.The Modern Era of Film MusicThe 1960s marked a turning point in the history of film music, as filmmakers and composers experimented with new forms and styles of music that challenged the conventions of the classical Hollywood film score. Some of the factors that contributed to this change were:• The rise of new wave cinema and independent filmmaking, which favored more realistic, experimental, and personal films• The influence of popular music and rock music, which appealed to younger and more diverse audiences• The development of new technologies and techniques, such as electronic music, synthesizers, multitrack recording, and digital sound• The emergence of new genres and subgenres, such as science fiction, horror, thriller, comedy, musical, western, and animationSome of the characteristics of film music in this period were:• The use of smaller ensembles and non-orchestral instruments• The use of pop songs and rock music as source music or non-diegetic music• The use of minimalism and repetition as musical devices• The use of atonality and dissonance as musical expressions• The use of eclectic and hybrid musical styles and influences• The use of musical parody and pastiche as musical commentarySome examples of film scores from this period are:• Psycho (1960), composed by Bernard Herrmann. This score is considered one of the most iconic and influential horror film scores that used a string orchestra and dissonant chords to create a sense of terror and suspense.• 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), directed by Stanley Kubrick. This film is considered one of the most innovative and influential science fiction films that used existing classical music pieces as its soundtrack, creating a contrast between the ancient and the futuristic.• The Graduate (1967), directed by Mike Nichols. This film is considered one of the most influential films of the new Hollywood movement that used pop songs by Simon & Garfunkel as its soundtrack, creating a sense of mood and identity for the film's protagonist.• Star Wars (1977), composed by John Williams. This score is considered one of the most popular and successful film scores that revived the symphonic style and used leitmotifs and thematic development to create a sense of epicness and adventure for the film's galaxy.• The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (1966), composed by Ennio Morricone. This score is considered one of the best examples of a spaghetti western film score that used unconventional instruments, such as electric guitars, whistles, bells, trumpets, and vocals, to create a distinctive sound for the film's setting and characters.The Current Trends and Challenges of Film MusicThe

21st century has seen a continuation and diversification of the trends and styles of film music that emerged in the previous decades. Film composers today have access to a wide range of musical resources, such as orchestras, bands, singers, synthesizers, samplers, computers, software, libraries, etc. Film composers today also have to deal with a wide range of musical demands, such as genre conventions, audience expectations, directorial visions, studio pressures, budget constraints, time limitations, etc.Some of the characteristics of film music today are:• The use of adaptive music and interactive music that can change according to the player's actions or choices in video games or interactive media• The use of sound design and ambient music that can blend with or replace traditional musical elements in films or media• The use of world music and ethnic music that can reflect or contrast with the cultural diversity or specificity in films or media• The use of temp tracks or pre-existing music pieces that can influence or limit the originality or creativity in films or media• The use of remote collaboration or outsourcing that can facilitate or complicate the production or communication in films or mediaSome examples of film scores from today are:• Inception (2010), composed by Hans Zimmer. This score is considered one of the best examples of a modern blockbuster film score that used electronic sounds, brass instruments, percussion instruments, vocals, and a slowed-down version of Edith Piaf's Non, je ne regrette rien as its main theme, creating a connection between the film's plot and the song's lyrics. (https://www.classicfm.com/composers/zimmer/hans-inception-score-guitar-solo/)• The Social Network (2010), composed by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross. This score is considered one of the best examples of a modern electronic film score that used minimalistic and ambient sounds, as well as distorted and processed instruments, to create a sense of tension and isolation for the film's protagonist.The current trends and challenges of film music show that film composers have to adapt to the changing demands and expectations of the film industry and the audience, as well as to the evolving technologies and techniques of music production and distribution. Film composers have to balance between originality and convention, between artistry and commerce, between innovation and tradition.ConclusionFilm music is a fascinating and complex phenomenon that has evolved over more than a century of cinematic history. Film music can enhance or transform the film experience, creating emotional and intellectual responses in the audience. Film music can also reflect or influence the cultural and historical context of the film, as well as the personal and artistic vision of the filmmaker and the composer.Film music is not a static or homogeneous entity, but a dynamic and diverse one, that can vary according to the genre, style, period, setting, theme, character, and mood of the film. Film music can also vary according to the preferences, expectations, interpretations, and reactions of the audience.Film music is not only a product of the film industry, but also a part of the musical culture, that can interact with other musical forms and genres, such as classical music, popular music, rock music, world music, etc. Film music can also transcend its filmic context and become a musical work in its own right, that can be performed, recorded, distributed, consumed, and appreciated independently of the film.Film music is not only a matter of sound, but also a matter of meaning, that can convey or create messages, symbols, metaphors, associations, references, quotations, etc. Film music can also raise questions or provoke debates about various issues related to film theory, aesthetics, criticism, history, sociology, psychology, etc.Film music is not only an art form but also a science that requires knowledge and skills in various fields such as music theory, composition,

orchestration,

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blackswaneuroparedux · 4 years ago

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Anonymous asked: Thoughts on Jane Birkin? - Talented elegant actor-musician-model? Overrated at everything but she was pretty? Or, never thought about it, but she did design a nice bag for Hermes?

My thoughts about Jane Birkin is that she is and will always remain an all round feminine icon. Plain and simple.

That’s not just my contrarian view because she was an icon that overlapped into my grandparents’ and parents’ generation of the late 60s and 70s but it’s also the view of many French today too. I knew of her because her songs alongside Françoise Hardy and other French chanteuse were always playing on my parents stereo system growing up overseas. Indeed so well-documented is the love affair between Jane Birkin and Serge Gainsbourg, that to picture it retrospectively is to watch a flickering series of film stills in one’s mind. Enter the young British actress in 1970s Paris, basket swinging nonchalantly from one arm, baby daughter clasped carefully in the other, dancing down Boulevard Saint-Germain with the thoughtful French musician’s adoring figure at her side. They loved, smoked and fought fervently, their ten-year-long affair an archetype of that between musician and muse in bohemian Paris, and 40 years after its dissolution, the French still can’t get enough.

As you allude to in your question, she has famously said of herself and Serg Gainsbourg that, “He was a great man. I was just pretty.” Which has led a small minority - especially those in her native England - to be dismissive of her as a long forgotten pretty face of the 70s and who was over-rated because she was nothing without riding on the coat tails of the crooning bad boy, Gainsbourg. On the face of it it was a very disingenuous remark to make because Gainsbourg was indeed a great man (as a musician and French cultural male icon) but she was so much more than a pretty face. I strongly suggest that she was just being her usual self-deprecating Anglo-self and one who remains to be a tad embarrassed at 73 years old to be continued to be lauded as a genuine timeless French style and chanteuse icon.

No one can doubt that Jane Birkin has always had some talent as an artist. Birkin has enjoyed a long career in the arts as a singer, songwriter, actress, and director. Her longevity is one proof of her staying power. Arguably though, it is her reputation as a style icon, and more specifically being the namesake of the iconic Hermès Birkin bag for which she is best known today. She might well have been Gainsbourg’s baby doll (his words) but she was very much her own popular muse and actress.

This may surprise many but Jane Birkin has appeared in over 70 films over several decades. As an actress it is often forgotten how good she is because most of her films were made in France and she rarely did films outside of France.

She was already known even before she hooked up with Gainsbourg. She was born in 1946 to an actress mother, Judy Campbell, and her Royal Navy lieutenant-commander and spy, David Birkin. Her mother was an acclaimed actress of her generation and muse to the older Noel Coward. She had a typical upbringing that one might call comfortably posh upper middle class. She was already married at 17 to film composer, John Barry (yes, the same John Barry who composed all the music for the James Bond films and other Hollywood films (Out of Africa, Dances with Wolves, Cotton Club etc) in 1965 but divorced in 1968 with custody of their daughter. Birkin quickly became part of the swinging London scene in the 1960s and appeared briefly in a handful of films.

Birkin was already well known but it was her nude turn in Michelangelo Antonioni’s 1966 film Blow-Up that really put her on the map. Even today it’s seen as one of the iconic films of the swinging sixties.

She famously arrived in Paris unable to speak French with her newborn daughter in her arms. The story goes that she was offered the lead role in the 1968 French film Slogan alongside Gainsbourg after sobbing through her screen test. Starring alongside Serge Gainsbourg, Birkin performed with him on the movie’s theme song. It was on that film set that they would begin their truly passionate relationship as well as artistic collaborations throughout the 1970s.

Indeed a year later in 1969 they both released the song that has forever defined them both to non-French people around the world, the duet “Je t’aime…moi non plus” which was met with scandal and disapproval by the Vatican and banned in many countries.

It may have solidified Birkin’s status as the British-born emblem of French chic but in all honesty it also drowned out her notable acting talents. Although Birkin took a brief hiatus from acting to return as Bardot's lover in the 1973 film Don Juan or If Don Juan Were A Woman (for which she got rave reviews because she held her own against Bardot),

it was only until 1975 in Gainsbourg’s own first film Je t’aime…moi non plus that her acting was properly honoured. Again, because of the damn song, people forget that she was nominated for Best Actress César Award (The French version of the Oscars or the Brit’s version of the BAFTAs). To be nominated for a César as best actress in a culture of truly talented actresses is saying something.

This wasn’t a flash in the pan. She was nominated again in 1984 for Best Actress César Award for her role as Alma in La Pirate - directed by her then partner, Jacques Doillon with whom she did another critically acclaimed film La Fille Prodigue (1981). Her work led her to work on stage with critically acclaimed directors such as Patrice Chéreau. She worked with director Herbert Vesely on Egon Schiele Exzess und Bestrafung in 1980, appearing as the mistress of Austrian artist Egon Schiele, played by Mathieu Carrière. Jacques Rivette collaborated with her in Love on the Ground (1983). The jury of the 1985 Venice Film Festival recognised Birkin's performance in Dust as amongst the best of the year, but decided not to award a best actress prize because it was decided by the jury that all of the actresses they judged to have made the best performances were in films that already won major awards - Dust won the Silver Lion prize so she lost out.

In 1991 she was again nominated for a César Award but this time as best supporting actress in the classic La Belle Noiseuse directed by Jacques Rivette and starring Michel Piccoli and Emmanuelle Béart.

She did of course English films but much more sporadically. She put in a famous turn in both the delightful Hercule Poirot movies starring Peter Ustinov, Death on the Nile and Evil Under the Sun. She also appeared in Merchant Ivory's A Soldier's Daughter Never Cries (1998) (which also used her song "Di Doo Dah”). In 2016 she had the lead role in La femme et le TGV, a short film directed by Swiss filmmaker Timo von Gunten. The film was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Live Action Short Film. I believe after it was widely reported that she had no plans to return to acting.

I think it’s the parochialism of the Anglo cultural world that has led to this misconception that she wasn’t an actress of note when in fact she has always been up there with the best of French actresses of her generation.

As a singing icon she has been frozen in time. Her fame for one song have clouded a proper critical appraisal of her singing talents. And I think here I have to be honest and say that her critics - from a purely singing technical point of view - might have a point her being over hyped. Not that Jane Birkin ever said she was a great singer as she described herself self-deprecatingly as singing through more keys than a locksmith.

As a singer, Birkin is of course is known for that song that cheekily and perhaps even enviously reinforces the tropes the non-French world have about the French and amour. In 1969, she and Gainsbourg released the duet "Je t'aime... moi non plus" ("I love you ... me neither"). Gainsbourg originally wrote the song for Brigitte Bardot. But Bardot famously declined to sing the track because she found it "too erotic" and she was married at the time.

Although Birkin started out in films, she preferred to focus more on singing than acting. This was primarily because of Serg Gainsbourg who saw Birkin as his muse and wrote songs for her. She released an album in 1975 entitled Lolita Go Home and in 1978 called Ex Fan des Sixties, with the help of Gainsbourg's songwriting. Her music was successful in France, but not in her home country of England. She has made more than a dozen albums, nearly all in French and perhaps one or two in her native English.

One cannot escape the nagging feeling when I listen to some of her albums - really the later ones - that if she had attempted a career as an English recording artist, she would have stayed a minor singer. If fished out of her small pond and dropped into the music ocean, then Birkin would surely in the words of one music critic, “be engulfed by the plankton of mediocrity”.

And so the troubling truth that must be faced is that because she has been granted access to the ranks of the iconic, it is more because of our interest in the intriguing liaison she had with the maverick Gainsbourg more than anything else.

There is no doubt that her marshmallow accent, reedy voice and modern look made Jane Birkin a singing idol. She has a sense of discretion that is inversely proportional to her dazzling repertoire, which is studded with such astounding masterpieces as ‘Je t’aime… moi non plus’, ‘Swimming Pool’, ‘The Pirate’ and ‘Les dessous chics’. But her later recordings such as Le Symphonique, in which she is accompanied by a 90-piece orchestra - are mostly re-worked recordings of her songs with Gainsbourg who had died in 1991. Or take her 1996 album Arabesque which featured re-workings of Gainsbourg’s music, along with instrumentals backed by five Arabic musicians. Nearly all her later albums are quite mediocre.

This isn’t her fault so much as it is the musical artistry of Gainsbourg. He was the puppeteer behind the promulgation of this 'veule aesthetic', this aesthetic of weak plaintive croaking. But he was perhaps the first French singer who knew that manipulating the media would lead to manipulating record sales. Gainsbourg once had a job punching holes into métro tickets on Paris' underground before this ‘poinçonneur de lilas’ went on to almost single-handedly drag France's chanson tradition into the postmodern age. He sat in the opposite corner to the great chanson Musketeers: Leo Ferré, Georges Brassens and Jacques Brel. Gainsbourg is known in France for having cast himself in twin roles: Gainsbourg the musician and Gainsbarre the provocateur.

But there is also a definite divide in his musical production with a pre-1971 period that has a foot in chanson with driving melodies and Boris Vian narratives and the other foot in the fledgling pop tradition, and a post-1971 period that was driven more and more by dodgy electronic drumbeats, tiresome perpetual punning, and repetitive allusions to la femme enfant and Lolita-esque love (his last partner, Bambou, was 30 years his junior).

It remains difficult, therefore, to see how anyone with an ear for melody could think that much of Gainbourg's non-chanson output is melodiously pleasing. Much of his production seems so excruciatingly the work of an ageing pervert with personal hygiene issues.

My French friends, including one of my apartment neighbours in particular - of an older generation with whom I’ve grown close to - will put me through the wringer for saying anything bad about Gainsbourg and Birkin as singers. I just feel no one should be above a critical appraisal. Worse, it becomes very difficult to say anything critical for fear of being told that you just have not understood Gainsbourg's genius (surely Jarvis Cocker and Portishead can't be wrong!) But in reality there is very little to understand. He gave up trying to sing early on - the songs I really do like and find interesting - and quickly became the one-trick pony until his unfortunate death in May 1991 at 62 years old: a suggestive lyric about a questionable relationship here, a pun on every other word as an excuse for poetics there, slurred together with the voice of a sneering old man. The man stood out, broke away from troubadour-like folklore, but ultimately a tad mediocre.

The truth is Birkin without Gainsbourg was never much of a truly great singer. Combined with their public spats, Birkin reportedly grew tired of Gainsbourg's drinking and melancholy habits, so much so it became impossible to live with. They separated in 1980 despite never being married, despite reports of the contrary. Birkin later said that their friendship and his songwriting improved after they split. “You could talk back to him for once,” she said. “You were not just his creation any more.” As much as she was his muse, she was Pygmalion to his Prof. Henry Higgins. But the sad and prosaic truth is that without his unique style of songs to carry her limited singing range she was dreadfully exposed outside of Gainsbourg’s repertoire.

This was brought home to me when I listened to her cover version of Cohen’s iconic song, ‘Hallelujah’. Cohen's lyrics tell of David composing a song in praise of God, he describes the euphony that 'hallelujah' forms in his prayer, "the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall, the major lift." Birkin on the other hand warbled her way through. As she said once of her singing, she went through more keys than a locksmith.

Does Jane Birkin fare better as a style icon? Yes, she does. Absolutely.

To understand the Birkin bag one has to understand how Jane Birkin a Parisienne fashion style icon without her necessarily wanting to be one.

The quintessential trope of Parisienne woman is a conflation we likely owe to the framing of the 1950s and ’60s mavens of French popular culture like Françoise Hardy, Catherine Deneuve, and Brigitte Bardot as French icons, but who remain eminently tied to Parisian mythology - their reverence to a billion-dollar fashion archetype (thank you LVMH) is as reductive to the real women of Paris as it is to the women aspiring to be them. Of course this kind of Parisienne chic exists - a walk down the rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré in the 8th arrondissement of Paris should satisfy the many star struck ‘American Emily’s’ coming to Paris (what a God awful Netflix drama it is).

But like London or New York or even Rome and Milan, there is no such thing as one Parisian style. There’s a plurality of Parisian styles and personalities - that’s obvious from walking the different arrondissements of Paris.

Jane Birkin in her day brought her own style to fit her British personality that was a far cry from the elegantly and expensively dressed mavens. From her laissez-faire fringe, to her layered necklaces, vintage denim, peasant blouses and white t-shirts, she wowed Parisienne women.

Today if you ever wander around Paris looking at the younger girls - or look at French young girls sporting their Paris street chic style on instagram or other social media - they call it Paris street chic. It’s not fashion, it’s a street style.

It’s really bunch of every day clothing items and accessories stylishly thrown together. So it’s not surprising to learn that the original source of French street chic started with Jane Birkin. It was Birkin who ‘pioneered’ the kind of off-duty dressing you now see all over the streets of Paris. I say pioneered but the truth is she dressed for herself without even wanting or trying to become a French style icon.

Still as fashionistas will tell you, Birkin was always several decades ahead of the style curve (easy for them to say). It was stylish but above all it was timeless. It amuses me no end that when one sees doe eyed American girls who are so enamoured by French girl fashion but don’t realise they owe their thanks to an English girl.

I’m sure it amuses Birkin too because she always thought her Haute-hippie style and free spirit was her way to insulate her personal insecurities about how well dressed and stylish haute bourgeois Parisian women were in their Chanel and YSL clothing. Her style is her own, as she said to Vogue, “I buy things often, but I sleep in them for two weeks, and then they really look quite rough.”

If there is common ground between the elegantly dressed mavens of high end brand fashion houses and the ultra casual minimalist street wear it is around the very simple Parisian quality of simplicity. Simplicity - not necessarily in colour or print but in the total look. Simple but important enough for a younger generation of Parisienne women should be free to express themselves free from the grips of a generations-old myth.

In a nutshell if Birkin’s style and influence endures it’s because her style is about simplicity.

Nevertheless her place as a style icon rests upon a simple straw basket (or wicker basket). However, in 1981 a chance encounter on a plane would result in the straw basket’s replacement by the world’s most desired leather bag - the Hermès Birkin bag.

In the 70s she was mainly known for her use of a straw/wicker basket which she used instead of a regular handbag. She was famous for her straw basket as she went everywhere with it, even dancing at the most exclusive of clubs or eating at the finest dining places. She carried all kinds of bits and bobs, including baby milk bottles, diapers, and baby change wear as well as collecting trinkets on her journeys around Paris. It was seen as a stylish English eccentricity by the Parisians.

There is famous story about Jane Birkin and her straw basket that has entered into legend. The straw basket bag’s anonymous shape and generous size lent it to concealment, so when, during a lavish Christmas evening spent at the famous Parisian Bistro Maxim’s with Gainsbourg, the young English actress slipped a few pieces of the institution’s fine monogrammed crockery into it, nobody batted an eyelid. It was only later, when the basket slipped from her wrist while signing an autograph and sent her stash of china flying across the floor, that she was found out. In a perfect act of Parisian discretion a kindly waiter collected it up for her and replaced it in the basket. “A gift from Maxim’s,” he is reported to have whispered to her. “If you require more, you only have to ask.”

In 1981, Birkin was on a short flight from Paris to London. Carrying her famous straw basket, she placed it in the overhead compartment of her seat. However, the lid of the basket opened, and the contents spilled all over the floor and on the seats around her. Sitting next to her and assisting her in retrieving the contents of her basket was the late executive of Hermès, Jean-Louis Dumas. Birkin complained to Dumas that she was unable to find a suitable leather weekend bag that she liked. According to folklore, the remainder of the flight consisted of the pair designing a bag together and sketching ideas on an air sickness bag.

Fast forward three years and a prototype handbag was developed and presented to Jane Birkin – the Hermès Birkin bag. The bag, crafted from supple leather and handmade in France by a single, highly trained artisan, and takes up to 24 hours to complete. Designed specifically to provide ample room for jet-setting women, the bag quickly became a fashion icon and status symbol for women worldwide. The Birkin bag comes in a range of sizes, leathers, exotic skins, and hardware, with new colours introduced each season and limited edition versions of the bag crafted occasionally.

Since the creation of the very first Birkin bag, Jane Birkin had always carried one. However, true to her unique style and fashion, she continually customised her bags with beads, trinkets, protest stickers, and other titbits to create a unique look. Birkin even defaced her namesake’s bag on Japanese TV in 2008. The fashion icon repeatedly stamped on a tan-coloured Birkin bag to make it look “unique.”

Not surprisingly, the customisation of the Birkin bag caught on quickly and “defacing” Birkin bags is now a modern and trendy pastime practiced by D list celebrities including Kim Kardashian, Tamara Ecclestone, and many of today’s so-called fashion icons and social media style influencers.

Commendably Birkin auctions off her complimentary Birkin bags from Hermès for charitable causes. She often works with Amnesty International on humanitarian issues and donates her yearly royalties for the Birkin bag (approximately $50,000 per year) to a charity of her choice. Jane Birkin has said she now rarely uses the famous handbag that bears her name. In an interview with the BBC she told the BBC that if, like her, she used to fill the bag with "junk... and half the furniture from your house, it's a very, very heavy bag. Now I fill my pockets like a man, because then you don't actually have to carry anything."

In typical Jane Birkin style, she doesn't own one.

Jane Birkin will always be France’s favourite “petite Anglaise” as she was often known. And therein lies the clue why she remains beloved French icon despite her being English for two main reasons that come to mind.

Firstly, I suspect it’s because of her remarkable quality to be down to earth and cheerfully optimistic in public. Above all she displays a wonderful talent for mocking herself and not taking herself seriously. When for instance she was invited to take a role in a theatre production of a play by the 17th-century French writer Marivaux, she thought she was in a play by Marie Vau! The French have always been beguiled by her because of the stardust of the Sixties.

Despite Birkin being diagnosed with leukaemia in 2002, she said she conducted her life and love affairs with “an absolutely unfounded optimism”. That is not in doubt. With the recent publication of her diaries (Munkey Diaries 1957-1982 - a fantastic read) a more fuller picture has emerged that have further endeared her to the French.

Birkin was always riddled with insecurities, “I think I’m nothing, I’m persecuted by women who I love more than myself... Oh for the face of Nastassja Kinski, of Fanny Ardant, oh, the talent, the courage, the qualities. I have nothing interesting to say...” Above all she was convinced she was “suffering from mediocrity and no personality”, and wanted above all was to be loved. England never gave her that love, France did so happily. Even today France openly loves her.

Secondly, the French, especially the Parisians, love her because she embraces the French way of life with gusto and gaeity. Birkin speaks French fine but she stumbles in her heavily accented French. But she doesn’t mind and neither do the French. She was schooled in England into a culture where it’s okay to stumble, to try and fail, to be less than perfect. However, the old, rote, didactic, shame-based French schooling system dies hard. French people are often afraid to speak English unless they can feel assured it is impeccable at the same time - alomost in contradiction - they feel put out by foreigners who simply speak English to them without even having the courtesy to speak a little French, they think it rude and respond accordingly. But Birkin is so transparent and open to falling flat on her face that I think the Parisians find it strangely endearing.

Birkin is that living truism that you don’t have to be French to be a Parisian icon of style and especially when beauty pertains to age.

Outside of native born French women, Brigitte Bardot, Françoise Hardy, Catherine Deneueve, Jeanne Moreau, Fanny Ardant, Juliette Binoche, Inés de la Fressange and one or two others (Isabelle Huppert is an outlier of arthouse chic style), there have been other non-French women besides Jane Birkin who have personified Parisian chic and style: Sylvia Vartan, Charlotte Rampling, Nastassja Kinski, Kristin Scott Thomas, and Carla Bruni, to name but a few. Each has come to embody ‘Parisian style’ without ever being raised here but now very much live and breathe the Parisienne spirit.

Just as importantly Paris, like French culture as a whole, values beauty especially as it ages. There are many seasons to women as there are to make fine wine. This is one reason why Jane Birkin endures even at the age of 73 years old. Style icons like Jane Birkin and others like Inés de la Fressange (who was the face of Chanel for so long and is now going strong at 63 years old) have given a well deserved middle finger to the notion that there is a codified set of rules for fashion and beauty for women over 50 years old.

Indeed this is one of the secrets of living in Paris, it knows how to renew and refresh itself without losing its unique identity e.g. the model and actress Jeanne Damas, is arguably this current generation’s Jane Birkin and all power to her.

The stylish contributions of all these iconic women, and especially Jane Birkin, is a testament of why the allure of Paris as a cultural centre will continue to endure seamlessly because it values the aesthetic truth that true style is beauty that timelessly matures.

Birkin said once she was in no doubt she would always be best known for her erotic record Je t'aime, moi non plus. Of course she under sells herself as she has always done because she is so much more.

Compare her to modern style icons. Kim Kardashian would be the nearest but her fame as a style icon rests on one cynically contrived (and boring) sex tape, a narcissistic family TV reality show, and being married to a grossly deluded rap singer. I don’t think the modern day airheads are true style icons but fashion victims because as Yves Saint Laurent once memorably put it, “Fashions fade, style endures”.

Jane Birkin will endure. Her contribution to French cultural life has been immense. The gap-tooth smile that looks irrepressibly cool, the messy fringe, the long string bean legs, the ability to elegantly wear denim for any and every situation, the reason she made a lowly wicker basket her bag of choice all year long. We may never know why, but honestly it’s not worth questioning at this point because it was so seriously chic - is one even allowed to say the word chic again? When it comes to Birkin, it’s a word that bears repeating.

Birkin might cheerfully be accepting of the fact that for an older generation much of her fame still rests on one scandalous song but for the contemporary generation it will be the Hermès Birkin bag.

"It's a rather extraordinary record," Birkin said once. "Perhaps more interesting than the bag." I daresay Serg Gainsbourg would agree about the song and the bag.

Ah yes that bag. The Birkin bag. To me it’s not a fashion item but a life saver.

From mothers juggling diapers and milk bottles whilst chasing after their toddlers in stores to busy career women hurriedly scooping up and stuffing in reams of files, phone and lap top while rushing off their feet to their next meeting all can thank ‘la petite Anglaise’ for her Birkin bag.

I know I do. I use mine for a work lap top, mobile phone, work files and folders, pens, chewing gum, girls stuff (make up kit and tampons), a spare pair of knickers, sun glasses, gloves, an apple, a bottle of water, playing cards, a cigar case (and cutter and lighter), and a few books to read when I fly on a business trip.

Thanks for your question.

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themosleyreview · 4 years ago

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The Mosley Review: Army of the Dead

What happened to the zombie film genre? Why are zombie films so far and inbetween? I remember a time when zombie films used to be plentiful. They had the same plot of survival, but they would also go into different pockets of film genres and it was so much fun. I guess Hollywood decided to move on as the genre became too plentiful and The Walking Dead tv series took over. The 2004 version of Dawn of the Dead is and will always be one of my favorite zombie films because of its introduction of running zombies. The tension was insane, the gore was brutal and I loved the innovation of showing a new rule of if you're bitten and you're pregnant, then expect a zombie baby. The film introduced the world to Zack Snyder and I've been waiting for him to return to the genre and this was a fantastically gory return. Right from the beginning of the film, the film takes you through an epic, bloody, tragic, explosive and unique story driven montage that sets up the tone and style. I love that the film didn’t shy away from making the story almost reflect our current world and it was almost scary how close the parallels were. This film also takes the zombie genre to next level by making not just monsters, but smarter and more human like. The great George A. Romero touched on it in Land of the Dead and I think he would approve of how Zack has evolved the concept.

Dave Bautista was excellent as Scott Ward. He gets another chance to blend his action prowess with his more dramatic acting abilities which have drastically improved. There are moments in the film where he broke my heart. Ella Purnell was great as his estranged daughter Kate and I loved the dynamic between them. You can feel the tension and the love they have and you hope for them to reconnect amongst the madness. Ana de la Reguera was good as Scott's friend Maria Cruz and I liked the chemistry between them. Theo Rossi is always great and he was good as the douche bag security guard Burt. Hiroyuki Sanada was fun as Bly Tanaka and he brought a bit of class to the film. Garret Dillahunt was perfectly slimy and untrustworthy as Tanaka's right hand man Martin. Nora Arnezeder was cool as Lily and she delivers the new lore and rules of the zombies that have taken over Las Vegas. Tig Notaro was fun as Marianne. She had a number of good quips in the film, but I didn't find her as hilarious as she could've been. Raúl Castillo and Samantha Win were great as Mikey Guzman and his friend Chambers. Mikey was all about the YouTube fame, but Chambers was secretly the most badass at killing zombies in one best action scenes I've seen all year. Richard Cetrone was awesome as the ruler of all the zombies Zeus. He exudes so much power in every movement he makes and he gives an emotional depth to an otherwise simple villain in the wrong hands. Athena Perample was equally fun and strong as his Queen. Now the ones that nearly stole the film for me were Omari Hardwick as Vanderohe and Matthias Schweighöfer as Ludwig Dieter. Once both of them arrive on screen and are paired together, it is comedy gold. They immediately play off the classic trope of the muscle and the brains working together. The weird, hilarious and nerdy bond the two of them have is just too much for this film to handle.

The score by Tom Holkenborg was excellent and most epic towards the last 30 minutes of the film. Like I said before, the opening montage was beyond fantastic and Richard Cheese's cover of Viva Las Vegas was a showstopper. The action in the film was excellent and features one of the best and most satisfyingly gory kills by a tiger I've ever seen. Writer and Director Zack Snyder has made a fantastic and fun zombie action heist film that will quench your thirst for blood and keep you entertained the whole time. This is definitely one of his best original films in years and I can’t recommend it enough. The Netflix original is now streaming. Let me know what you thought of the film or my review in the comments below. Thanks for reading!

#army of the dead #dave bautista #ella purnell #omari hardwick #ana de la reguera #theo rossi #matthias schweighöfer #nora arnezeder #hiroyuki sanada #garret dillahunt #raúl castillo #tig notaro #samantha win #richard cetrone #zack snyder #netflix #netflix original

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sunflowerstache · 5 years ago

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Falling pt.2

What do you do when the person you pictured your entire life with, suddenly seems to have fallen out of love with you?

Word count: 3.2k A/N: Hi y'all! We’re back with part 2 AND I'm really happy and excited with this piece! I can’t wait to hear what you think and I just really hope you enjoy! It’s not as action packed, but it is nearly as emotional... and yes, there will be a part 3(:

The beige walls in front of you had always brought you a sense of comfort. It wasn’t because of the trees hiding the inside from any prying eyes, or the welcoming, bright blue door, or even the best chicken avocado blt wrap you’d ever had. It was the simple idea of spending time with the love of your life within the four walls. The four walls that held too many memories count; the release date of Harry’s first album, when you told him about the job at Gucci you’d accepted, Bella explaining what she learned at school, plans for future photoshoots, and talks of the future. It was the kind of place that gave you the chance to experience normality - or the closest you’d ever come to it again. Inside the Beachwood Cafe, you got to just be the Styles family, not the Styles family.

But were you even that same family anymore?

How could you consider yourself the same when things had gone so horribly south since the last time you’d stepped through the door? When you hadn’t seen Harry in five days and that idea alone didn’t make you feel sick. Not once since you first met him, were you okay with being so far from him for more than a day. You always felt your body had a magnetic pull towards him and the second you seperated, it knew something was wrong. But not this time. The second you walked out of your front door, you didn’t feel that pull, that need to go back in and be near him. It was like the invisible string pulling the two of you closer together had been cut the second you saw that magazine cover.

However, you didn’t just have yourself to think of. Long gone were the days that you could stay cuddled in bed all day and wallow in self pity, eating tubs of ice cream, and thinking about all the ways Harry had hurt you. Because the little hands on either side of your face every morning didn’t know what was going on. She didn’t know that the entire world was speculating if you and her father had split up, or that daddy wasn’t actually away for work. All she knew was that the two of you were having a girls vacation at Auntie Steph’s and she missed her dad.

“You can’t avoid him forever, babe.” It was late one night when Steph spoke up, the two of you watching your second film of the night, coated in blankets and a bowl of popcorn nestled between you.

“Steph -”

“You can’t and you know I’m right. You heard what Jeff -”

“Steph I don’t care. I can’t go and sit with him and pretend that he didn’t sit back and just accept that he slept with someone.”

Obviously you knew she was right, there was no way you could stay at her house forever and simply never see him again. Not only was it not logistical - considering your job and your shared daughter - but emotionally you weren’t strong enough for that. Before he was your other half, he was your best friend. He was someone who was always in your corner, ready to give you the pep talk you needed or make a stupid joke to make you laugh. After everything you’d been through, and as hurt as you were,, you knew that you couldn’t cut him out of your life completely.

“I’m not telling you to accept anything, Y/N. I’m telling you that you need to hear what he has to say, and you need to bring your daughter to see her father. What you do after that if up to you, and you know I’ll back you up whatever you decide to do.”

Cher Horowtiz had begun her debate on refugees while you listened to Steph talk some sense into you. Five days was the longest you’d spent apart since becoming a couple five years ago, and you knew in order to either move past this or move past him, you needed to see him.

“So what, I just ask him to meet up for lunch? Like we’re sixteen year olds going on a first date?”

“No, you ask him to meet up for lunch like you’re twenty five year olds who have a lot to discuss.”

Having only sent the message a few hours prior to when you wanted to meet with him,you were a bit surprised that Harry had immediately agreed to lunch. He was right in the middle of creating his second album and the hours of free time he had could almost be counted on one hand, so getting a response only seconds after initially asking was a bit of a shock to you.

Then again, you shouldn’t have been surprised; Harry was never one to put work over family. From day one, he made it extremely clear that he would drop everything if someone he cared about needed him. And you finally responding to him after so long, on top of saying his daughter needed him, was something you should have known would take precedence over whatever he had planned for the day.

“And I have to give him my drawing! You have it right mumma?” Bella’s sweet voice sounded over the bell above the door as you walked into the cafe. She had picked her own outfit to see Harry; a pair of dungarees and a white shirt, her hair tied up in two cute little space buns so that it wouldn’t get in her face all morning.

“Of course I do, love. He’s going to love it.”

There was no guessing as to where Harry would be waiting for the two of you, because it was the same table you’d been sitting at for years. Just to the left of the service counter, was a smaller, more private room filled with tables. It was separated by a large wooden entryway which opened up into the bright yellow room you’d grown to adore. And as soon as you shut the front door, there was no trouble finding him. His head was upright, clear he had snapped it up the moment he heard the bell ring, almost indicating that he had been there for some time and had done the same with everyone who entered before you, and he stared right at you.

“Daddy!” it was a soft shout, her being well aware of not drawing lots of attention to your family, and Bella quickly let go of your hand so she could run towards her father.

In an instant, Harry was at his sliding off of the bench and bending down so she could run right into his open arms. His stood in stark contrast to the yellow wall; a black bottom up and cream colored trousers adorned his body; a look that he had recently grown to love. It was a look that had the fans making comments that left the two of you in hysterics, but also leading them to recreate in their own fashion sense. And it was a look that he was happy and comfortable in, so you enjoyed it.

“Hello little love! I’ve missed you!” you heard him coo into the side of her head once you joined the pair. The room was oddly empty, leaving the three of you to have some sort of privacy while in the bustling business on a Monday afternoon.

“Missed you too, daddy! How was work?!”

The question caught the two of you off guard. Logically, you knew Harry had to have known you told Bella some sort of cover up as to why he wasn’t around, but the look in his eye informed you that he hadn’t even thought about it. His body had stiffened and eyes shot up to meet yours immediately, heartbreak seeping through his lashes.

“It was great, sweetheart.” he replied, pulling back so that he could pick her up. “But never as much fun as being with you.”

“Good. I don’t like when you leave, daddy.”

You swore, it was like the universe was out to make this lunch as painful for you as possible. There was no other reason for why today was the day your daughter decided to be the sappiest version of herself, or why Harry very clearly had tears in his eyes that weren’t noticeable by anyone but yourself.

“I don’t like it either. But doesn’t it make being together so much better?” his voice was thick, and if you had to hear one more second of it, you were going to explode into a puddle of your own tears.

“How about we get some food, huh?” you cleared you throat, earning a concerned look from Harry. “Weren’t you just complaining to me in the car that you feel like you haven’t eaten in six years?” trying to make jokes with Bella to avoid having to talk to Harry wasn’t something you were proud of, but you just needed a few more minutes before you could talk with him like everything was fine. At least until Bella wasn’t paying attention.

“Six years? My god, we need to get some food in that belly then, huh?” Harry feigned shock as you sat down, his arms moving Bella to let him bring her torso up to his face, his cheeks expanding with air so that he could blow onto her belly.

“Daddy!”

“You’re going to vanish with no food! My baby’s starving, we need a grilled cheese stat or she’s going to disappear!”

The two of them together was like watching the sunrise; beautiful and warm. The bond that they shared was stronger than anything you could have ever expected, and hearing them giggle with one another was infectious, a smile spreading to your lips before you could even realize what was happening. But you couldn’t help it. They had so much love shared between them that it made every other problem in the world seem so insignificant.

“How’s Steph?” this time, his attention was pointed at you. The green in his eyes seemed to be glowing in the rays of sun that shined through the window. But that’s where the brightness ended. Unlike the last time you saw him, he had bags under his eyes and his forehead was home to the red bumps you hadn’t seen litter his skin in years. Clearly, this was not what the two of you wanted or needed to talk about, but getting past the awkward initial conversations and making the day comfortable for Bella was the first and foremost.

“She’s good. She has a meeting with some people in Hollywood next week, so she’s pretty excited to start expanding again.”

“Wow, good for her. She stopped by Jeff’s the other day, was having dinner with Cam I think, but she looked good.”

“Oh I - I didn’t know they were - well I should have figured though when she came back with Il Fornaio leftovers.”

“I don’t think it’s anything serious, but they’re funny. Both of ‘em are the weirdest people I’ve ever met so…”

As always, Steph had given you advice that you didn’t instantly regret, and you made a mental note to thank her once you got back to her house. Whether it was because of your mutual need to make sure Bella was none the wiser to what was really happening behind closed or how much you had grown to pretend nothing was wrong, lunch went perfectly. For hours, the three of you sat in the yellow room and enjoyed time as a family. You laughed at the nonsense Bella was spitting, reminiscing on how the last time you were seated at that exact table, you were getting ready to head to New York for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, as well as listening to Harry talk about what kinds of cities he would like to go to on his next tour - whenever he finished his new album. But just as you learned in the recent days, some things that are so unbelievably good, inevitably have their downfall.

“‘M tired, mumma.” Bella had managed to leave Harry’s iron grip after everyone finished eating, and found her spot in your arms; her arms wrapped about your neck while she complained into the soft spot where your shoulders and neck met. Because of your unplanned lunch, she missed her nap for the day, so it was a ticking time bomb until it caught up with her and she either passed out in your arms or had a complete meltdown inside the quiet cafe.

“I know, B. Gonna go back so you can have a cuddle with Mr. Jeff, yeah?”

“Mhm. And daddy will come too, right?”

With her head tucked and hidden in your shoulder, neither you or Harry worried about containing your looks of worry at her comment. Harry because he didn’t know where the situation stood and you because you knew she’d wake up without her dad there.

“Daddy’s really busy, love, so he has to go back to work. But he’ll be back soon.”

Realization spread across Harry’s face at your words, understanding what the meaning behind them truly was, and his gaze fell to where his hands held an empty coffee mug. It seemed that the two of you would make it the entire lunch without bringing dirty laundry up, but now that Bella was fully asleep in your lap, there was nothing holding you back. It was time to have the conversation you so deeply wanted to avoid.

“Harry -”

“I didn’t sleep with her.”

Just as you did some nights ago, he spit out the one thing that was plaguing his mind, unable to hold back the information he was dying to tell you. But if he was going to replay the night that started all of this, you would do the same. So, just as had made no shocked movements at your accusation, you didn’t act shocked at his admittance. Because you weren’t.

“Jeff has videos of me spending the night with him and Glenne. Alone.”

In fact, you knew he was going to tell you exactly that. But hearing it come from his mouth gave you some sense of relief. Because as much as you appreciated hearing it earlier, nothing could compare to hearing it from Harry directly.

“I know.”

“Y/N I swear I can show yo- you know?”

You had to admit, seeing the look of shock cross his face was something you didn’t know you needed. His eyebrows furrowed which caused his eyes to squint, and he simply stared at you, waiting for an answer. But you didn’t immediately do so, instead, you rubbed your hand over Bella’s back in attempt to keep her asleep despite your wild heartbeat.

“Jeff sent them to me a few days ago.”

“A few - a few days ago?” This was one of the reasons you had thought about having this meeting in private; the tone of his voice started to go up at your confession, which you knew would happen. He was someone who couldn’t contain himself when his emotions got the best of him. “And you didn’t think to tell me? You just let me think everything was crumbling while you knew the truth?”

You didn’t have to tell him what you were thinking, because the second he said those words, you knew he knew. That was almost exactly what you had accused him of days ago. Asked him how he could let you think your relationship was one way, when in reality, it was something completely different.

“I didn’t not tell you to spite you, Harry. I didn’t do it to make you feel the same way I did, because we aren’t sixteen and this isn’t just some fling I don’t care about ending.” you worked so hard the entire day to not show the emotions you had bubbling around inside of you. But just as every other time you’d been around Harry, there was no hiding them. He brought out the vulnerable side of you, and the tears couldn’t be kept at bay. “I love you so much, Harry. I don’t think I’ve ever cared about someone the way I do about you. And these last few days… I’ve missed you more than I ever thought possible.”

“So why are we doing this, Y/N? Why are you going back to Steph’s and why are we not fixing this?” his thick voice was pleading, reaching across the table to grab ahold of your free hand. “I didn’t sleep with her.”

“But you thought that you did, Harry. You thought that you had slept with someone else, and lied to me about it.”

“I didn’t lie! I told you that I didn’t know if I did, and that was the truth!”

“I know, but you lied to me every day after that night. You walked around every day thinking that you did something so horrible and vile that I would leave you if I ever found out, so you kept it from me. That’s what hurts, Harry. Not the girl or what you thought you did. The fact that you would rather lie to me than work together and find a solution.”

His mouth hung open and you realized that he had nothing left to say, because he knew you were right. Every minute of your relationship had been built on trust and knowing that you each had the other’s best interests at heart, so what did you have when those values seemed to dissolve?

“Don’t leave me.”

Three simple words made your entire facade crumble. In all five years you’d known the man in front of you, never had you heard him sound so small and scared. And it hurt to know that it was directed at you, but just as you did five days ago, you needed to do what was best for you.

“I’m not. Harry I don’t think I could ever. But I just need some time. A few more days, a month, I don’t know. I just need to get out of the mindset this whole situation put me in, and when I do, we can do this again. But that time, we can leave together.”

It wasn’t ideal and it wasn’t ever how you thought your relationship would go, but it was reality. Sometimes the things you hold dearest in life are tested and the only way to see the light at the end of the tunnel is to go through it. But you had faith in Harry. You had faith that no matter what happened while you apart, that you would find your way back to each other. Because there was no way, after five years together and five as friends, that you would lose each other. He was the one part of fame that you’re glad no one warned you about. The ride the two of you had taken wasn’t something you wanted to be one step ahead of, as living in the moment with him was the happiest you had ever, and will ever be. He was the brightness your life needed.

But that bright, happy, yellow room would forever be tainted with the day you walked away from Harry.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shots #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles blurbs #1dff

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moviemunchies · 2 years ago

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Back in high school this was one of my favorite movies. I haven’t rewatched in years though, so I’ve been wondering if it would still hold up.

So I did that.

Here’s what I thought.

This movie’s been out forever, so I don’t much care about spoilers.

What the fudge, this movie’s AMAZING. I kept thinking while re-watching this that they don’t make superhero movies like this anymore. Which isn’t necessarily bad–different styles of movies existing is good! But here’s a comic book movie that feels more like some kind of thriller rather than an action movie, and it’s brilliant.

[And no, I still don’t count Captain America: The Winter Soldier as a political thriller, no matter how many times I see it described as such. It’s not.]

So Batman, Lieutenant James Gordon, and the new DA Harvey Dent have been cleaning up the streets of Gotham by slowly picking up the mob. But a mysterious new criminal appears, the Joker, who disrupts the carefully laid plans of the heroes and the mob. First in his efforts to take down Batman, then in his plans to destroy the established order in Gotham by any means possible.

I don’t know if this is the best version of the Joker I’ve seen, but it’s definitely one of the most interesting and entertaining. The character doesn’t have a backstory in this movie, he just prances into the movie and ruins everyone’s lives. And it works; Nolan realized that the Joker works better if he doesn’t have an origin or specific motive other than to wreck Gotham City. He’s not scared of anyone or anything, he doesn’t care about money or political demands, he just wants to burn it all.

In this way he acts as a good antagonist for Batman. When we see Bruce’s training with the League of Shadows in the first movie, he’s taught that criminals are, at the core, simple and easily manipulated. Criminals are essentially greedy and foolish, hurting others to get the money, power, or satisfaction that they want. But Joker’s entire schtick is that he doesn’t want anything other than the chaos he spreads for his own entertainment, so Batman’s attempts to foil him stumble.

[Side note: at some point some Snyder superfan tried to list reasons she thought this movie was bad, and one was, “The Joker’s inconsistent! He tells Harvey that he doesn’t make plans, but he does! He totally does! Checkmate, Nolan fans!” The idea that the villain of the movie is a liar explicitly manipulating a man at his low point didn’t seem to occur to this viewer. That being said, outside of his plans, the Joker is remarkably good at improvising to get what he wants.]

There’s a strong argument to be made that Batman isn’t even really the main character. Joker, Gordon, and Dent all have pretty strong claims in that way–Dent in particular, considering the Joker’s victory or defeat ultimately centers around Harvey Dent and his reputation. He is what makes or breaks Gotham City, and Bruce sees him as a possible successor in the fight against crime who will fix things and he will no longer have to be Batman.

Of course, it doesn’t turn out quite like that.

I think it’s a bit funny that there are still people out there who look at the Batman mythos and say, “Gotham doesn’t need Batman, it needs someone working within the system to fix things!” when this movie right here talks about that very issue. Bruce isn’t Batman in Nolan’s movies because he desperately wants to be, it’s because he feels as if Gotham needs him to be. He plans to hang up the cape in this movie! But Gotham’s White Knight gets corrupted, and it needs Batman again–though this time, he decides, to act as the criminal excuse to exonerate Dent’s legacy of the crimes he committed.

One weakness of this film (and the Nolan Batman films in general), which is pretty obvious today, but less so when it came out: Nolan’s fight choreography is not….good. For those of you who haven’t seen a ton of movies from the 2000’s and early 2010’s, Hollywood was obsessed with this idea called ‘Shaky Cam’ in which fight scenes are shot with a close-up, shaky camera, dependent on you not really being able to tell the details of what’s going on so you can’t tell that these performers aren’t actually good at martial arts. In the age of “gritty” movies, in which chaotic fight scenes are in cramped spaces, this kind of makes sense–see The Bourne Identity, for instance. But it’s pretty shameless how many movies copied this idea for things that don’t make sense.

Batman, for instance, is explicitly a martial artist. Nolan downplays that in this movie, but he was trained by a cult of ninjas–he should be a skilled fighter. It’s a shame then, that you can barely tell what anyone is doing in fight scenes. I see why it’s done, but it is still pretty silly, especially nowadays in which we see fight scenes like those in John Wick, where it’s so much easier to see what’s going on and appreciate the action.

We also can’t get around that this film quite blatantly fridges Rachel Dawes, its female lead. I won’t say that calling this trope out wasn’t A Thing when The Dark Knight came out–it totally was. Fridging female characters is sadly a long-used trope in films, and while it’s essential to the story of this movie as it’s constructed, it’s still at least a little frustrating (and I’ll admit I’m biased to this movie; if you weren’t, it might be more than a little). I don’t know how the film would work without Rachel’s death, but it’s worth noting that The Dark Knight takes a lot of cues from The Long Halloween, in which Harvey Dent’s wife does NOT die.

Then again, it’s far from an exact translation of that comic, so I suppose it can’t be the same.

Gosh, maybe I’m just nostalgic, but this movie just couldn’t get made today, could it? I suspect one reason is because of how it feels dated, but not in a bad way. There’s so much about this movie that makes it obvious to me that it couldn’t have been made at any other time than in the years when we were still reeling from 9/11. There’s a popular interpretation that The Dark Knight is a metaphor for the Bush Administration and the War on Terror, despite Nolan’s insistence that this wasn’t meant to be a metaphor or allegory (as if that would stop people!).

Nolan had Opinions on things like surveillance and government overreach (and for more of that, I’d recommend checking out Person of Interest!), and it’s absolutely baffling how things have changed if you compare this to something like a modern Marvel movie. It’s been written about how Spider-Man: Far From Home has a Plot also involving a mass surveillance device (with killer drones added in!) and the question in that movie is “Who should have this?” when in this movie it’s “Wait, is it even remotely okay that this even exists?” It’s a completely different point of view than the quiet acceptance we have today that such technology exists and we should only hope that the right people have that power. Mr. Fox, acting as the moral center of Wayne’s company, RESIGNS over this technology being invented, and I think today it’d be another McGuffin put in the hands of a trustworthy authority figure.

Shows you how times have changed, doesn’t it?

I want to say, “You *have* to see this movie, because it’s amazing!” I don’t know if everyone else agrees, though. But if you’re interested in Batman and the way he’s been depicted throughout his history, you definitely should see this movie (presumably after Batman Begins, of course). I also think it’s an interesting time capsule to what people were thinking about fifteen years ago (I remember it was basically essential viewing in high school). It’s also a pretty good thriller on its own, though I don’t know how a non-Batman fan would see the film.

#The Dark Knight #Christopher Nolan #Movie Munchies #Batman #reviews

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alexlabhont · 4 years ago

Text

I didn’t mean to fall in love with you

Chapter five

Book: Queen B - Choices (Universe)

Pairing: Poppy Min-Sinclair x Trans!Male MC (Beck Hughes)

Genre: Canon re-write (Because I can)

Rating: Ehm... 13 years < , I mean, is not that hard, but just to be sure.

I´ll be posting this one over here because Tumblr, for some reason, thinks my secondary blog is a bot...

This is me trying to write by and for the Trans community, specially FTM community, meaning, trans guys, but I actually took the liberty to use They/them pronouns for everyone out there who´s interested (Also, the name Beck was the most neutral one I could find, trying to use the cannon Bea Hughes)

Now, about the PAIRING... I will be using choices style, kinda, because I want to give you choice at some point. If you have any comment, PLEASE BE RESPECTFULL and patient with me. This is also my first english fanfic and english is not my mother language, so... i’m sorry fo the grammar errors

CHAPTERS

The beginning

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

ONE-SHOTS

Just a dance (Zoey x MC)

——————————————————————

“No.”

“What?”

“I'm not doing it.” Poppy laughed, trying to hide her anger towards them.

“Farmsville, come on…”

“I said no.��

The strawberry blonde closed her fist so hard she could almost feel the earpiece cracking.

“Honestly… This seems a little extreme. And I will never support any kind of hurtful pantomime.” Those icy eyes pierced right through her, a strength and courage radiating from them so powerful that Poppy would´ve been turned on if she wasn’t very pissed.

“Am I missing something? I thought you hated Chloe as much as we do.” Oh, right. There was Bradley. She almost forgot about him.

“As we do?” The irony in Beck’s voice was so palpable that she could see it slapping Bradley right in the face. “Has Chloe ever done anything to you that I´m not aware of, Hollywood?” Beck smiled tired, as to making fun of themselves. “Zoey was right; I shouldn't have come… “The simply mention of that girl´s name set on fire her blood to an unexpected level.

“That bitch…”

As Beck tried to walk away, Poppy intervened, full of rage.

“I didn’t think of you as one of those who´s afraid to actually do something!

And that´s where Beck stopped, as if something made click inside them. They turned around and for the first time in her life, someone’s look made her feel naked, completely exposed. The more Beck analyzed her, looking for something they only knew, the more vulnerable she felt. That moment lasted just a couple of seconds, no-one around them notice it but both of them.

“You’re right.” They finally said, reaching out for the earpiece which Poppy gave them doubting, giving out the other one to Bradley. For some strange reason she didn’t want them to participate anymore, but now they were necessary, it was too late. The operation had already begun, so she didn’t have other choice but linked her arm with theirs, walking into the dance floor.

“I´m counting on you tonight, Farmsville. Don’t disappoint me.” Once on the dancefloor, Poppy gave Beck a light shove and took a deep breath, trying desperately to erase any residue of the feeling they made her have. “You take the left side of the club. I´ll take the right. And remember, don’t let Chloe out of your sight.” That was the last thing she told them before parting ways.

~~X~~

The thing is…

She hasn’t seen Chloe in all the fucking night.

What were the odds? Surely the stupid blonde should be in Beck's side, the very thought of it tasting bittersweet… deep down, she knew the real reason to involved Beck.

They were a good person.

The heaviness in her chest was there since the moment she found out Chloe was taking the hook. At first she was thrilled, smash enemies, that was her favorite thing, having plans, blackmailing, humiliating… that was kinda her thing, and she loved it at some point… but Chloe…

Gosh, she hated her. But the memories of them playing, laughing, crying, growing together… a big part of her really wanted to make her pay for her betrayal.

But the other one, the little, small other one… the other one begged to have her best friend back.

Maybe that’s why she didn’t stop Beck when she saw them warning Chloe, telling her she should not trust any word coming out Bradley’s mouth. Maybe that’s why that previous moment with Beck was so intimate yet personal… Yes, definitely they were more observant than she gave them credit for.

After making sure Chloe was far away and all the attention was on Bradley, Poppy walked towards Beck, her bitch mask on as always. She would rather be caught dead before admitting she needed their help to protect her from herself.

“It’s go time. Let’s make this bitch bleed.”

Her words claimed, but her actions were something else. Feeling stupid, like a child, Poppy wrapped Beck's arms around her, searching for comfort, but giving them her back. She could feel their chest behind her, their heat warming her body and their breath close to her hair. Without realizing, her fingers caressed their forearms tenderly, her eyes never looked away from the stage, where Chloe was dazzle by Bradley.

This was it. Her plan was marching flawlessly, even though the first words spoken by Bradley were… well, definitely he did not know how to improvise.

“You’re up, Farmsville. Feed him his first line.” Poppy felt Beck taking a deep breath and hugged her tightly but gentle. Their mouth hided behind her ear, and suddenly, she forgot about the purpose of all the things she was doing.

Because for one moment, Poppy felt as a regular girl, hearing sweet nothings from her significant other.

“She’s got an amazing sense of style… Seriously, she dresses like a runway model. Whatever she walks into a room, everyone turns their head.”

Her heart was beating fast, a strange warm in her chest was growing, and their lips moving closer made her snuggle even more against them, being reciprocate immediately by Beck, holding her still.

“Whenever I’m around this girl, I feel like the king of the world. Not only is she so hot, she’s also compassionate… She shines this amazing light on everyone and everything around her. People who are lucky enough to be her friend can always count on her support.”

Poppy felt the playfully smile on Beck’s mouth, that idiot, even in times like this still managed to crack some joke around.

“You’re a moron.” She whispered.

“Think you could do it better? Be my guest.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“This might sound like a stupid question, but… do you know who I'm talking about, Chloe?”

And, as simple and quick as that, it all went down to reality. Beck broke the hug apart, walking away to the bar so quickly it actually made Poppy shivering from the sudden cold, feeling unprotected, like something was missing… someone was missing.

“Of course I do” she heard Chloe said. A weird mix between excitement and fear taking over her, while looking perfectly neutral from outside. “It’s Poppy, isn’t it? You’re talking about Poppy Min-Sinclair.”

Poppy's honey eyes went straight to Beck, who was pretending to do a toast, alone, in her behalf. She didn’t even pay attention to what was on stage. Beck admitted to her having sabotage her revenge.

And she couldn’t be more relieved about it.

She also reached for the bar, standing up next to them, neither of them looking at each other.

“Poppy, you have to understa…”

“I can’t say I'm not disappointed, but at least we got Chloe to look a little stupid up there.” Poppy interrupted them. Beck looked surprised for a second, nailing their gaze into their drink after that. “… By the way, the lines you fed Bradley were pure, vicious gold.”

“I got inspired, that’s all.” They murmured, almost ashamed.

Poppy didn’t had time to respond, because The T notification buzzed in her phone: Beck was now top nine, and, of course, herself was back on top one.

“Oh, it worked all right. I’m right back on top, where I belong.”

She couldn’t help but smile to them, a real, happy smile. She got her crown back, and the damages weren’t so bad after all. And it was thanks to Beck, they were a completely live saver. No wonder why Zoey was so eager to protect them…

Speaking of her… if she was as serious as she claims to be towards Beck, and since The T spies were already here… maybe it was time to make a really good move to prove her who's better. And she knew exactly how.

“You did your part. Now, let’s dance.”

Decided, Poppy grabbed their hand, trying to lead them out on the dance floor, but she didn’t get much. Beck was rock still, looking uncomfortable… Like with all of those girls.

“No, I… I don’t dance, Pops.” Are they really rejecting her? To her? No, she was not another stupid whatever girl, she was, again, the Queen. Nobody says no to her.

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course you do!” she said. “I’ve seen you dancing around with Wade. Don’t you try to deny it.”

“That’s different.” They defended themselves, making Poppy raise an eyebrow, challenged, before changing it to a flirty grin.

“Well… maybe I want to be different to you, too.” There it was, that precious lamb’s look she wanted so badly to see. “Just this one, tushi-face…”

Beck started walking almost right away. There it was, their soft spot for her Beck didn’t wanted to acknowledge, but it was already within them.

Not letting go their hand for a second, Poppy and Beck reached the dance floor right away to start to move to the beat in time, Beck trying… really trying to do the same.

Seriously, this dude was bad at this.

Was Zoey the answer?

No, they’re nervous, she could feel the tension in all their body. But why?

“What are you so nervous about?” She asked, feeling a little insulted.

“Paranoia.” They said.

“To what?” Beck only managed to shrug, something in their eyes was off, remembering something from… the past? Beck was afraid? Hell, what did Farmsville do to them? Poppy threw up her arms around their neck, leaning closer, trying to make him forget. “Don’t repeat this to anyone, Tushi-face, but… I needed you tonight.”

“Sounds to me like… You want me, too.” They joked, Poppy could feel the tension disappearing, nothing really to do with the conversation, but with the small petting she was doing to the hair close to Beck’s nape. “Be honest. Was this whole plan an elaborate ruse to get me on the dance floor?” Poppy smirked.

“Don’t be ridiculous, this was all about sabotaging Chloe.” She said, laughing. “Of having wanted it from the start I’d already have you.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I want you now, and I’m having you.” Beck expression was a poem, the surprise written all over them for a moment, processing the information.

“What are you saying, Poppy?”

“I’m a woman used to get only the best, Hughes. And once I put my eyes onto something… or someone I want, I’ll do anything to make them mine…” The sexual tension was in the air so thick it made everyone around just disappear, the sparks between they both, the way they looked at each other… full of hunger, of need… She wanted Beck, and they wanted Poppy just the same. She could feel it so clear in the way they were touching her back, delicate, yet strong, longing, like begging to the devil to stop, but not wanting to. Please, just end my misery… those eyes claimed, but their body, moving along with hers was screaming to continue, and Poppy got drunk on it, needing more… a lot more.

“Baby, you got lucky cause you're rocking with the best… And I'm greedy… so greedy” She sang whispering, stroking her nose against theirs, playfully, softly, their lips oh so close to hers she could somehow feel them tremble, the sensations intoxicating them both so badly. “I ain't talking money, I'm just physically obsessed… And I'm greedy…”

“Poppy…” They moaned and the strawberry girl couldn’t take it anymore, desperately claiming Beck’s lips with her own.

Her heart exploded.

Beck’s mouth was warm, soft, addictive. As the kiss continued, the need became more and more insufferable, she wanted all and everything. She wanted to feel these heady fireworks on each part of her skin, that tongue taking care of the flames in her body, their hot lips heating her as fire, their breath became poison and the cure at the same time, she stuck her body even closer, trying to feel theirs desperately… Never, anyone, had made her feel so much with just a kiss…

A kiss that suddenly went to a rude ending.

Beck broke apart the touch so promptly that it actually hurt inside her.

“No, I… I just can’t. I gotta go.” Beck was trembling, that was the last thing she managed to understand before being completely alone.

-----

#queen b choices #choices #queen b zoey #zoey wade #trans #ftm #poppy x mc #malemc #poppy min sinclair #bea hughes #Beck Hughes #choices stories you play #choices poppy #choices queen b mc #mc x poppy #queen b

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tilbageidanmark · 3 years ago

Photo

Movies I watched this week - 33

Toni Erdmann - An off-beat German comedy about a daughter and her weird father. The daughter is s a high-flying business woman in Bucharest, and her old father is a bizarre prankster who surprise-visits her there, trying to pull her out of her stiff comfort zone.

At nearly 3 hours, it’s a bit long, but is fresh and original. 6+/10

✴️

First glorious watch - Wong Kar-Wai’s romantic Chungking Express, with Tony Leung & Faye Wong.

I always thought it was an action flick, (probably because it “was Tarantino’s favorite movie”) so I avoided it until now.

Here is Dinah Washington explaining why it was a mistake not to watch it!

Best film of the week!

✴️

Michelangelo Antonioni X 2:

✳️✳️✳️ Back to my classics: Antonioni‘s The Passenger, with doomed Jack Nicholson as David Locke, AKA Robertson. Based on W. Somerset Maugham's ‘Appointment in Samarra‘. This is why I love movies. 10/10.

When you travel to the very end of the world.

✳️✳️✳️ Blowup - In Swinging London, a selfish photographer discovers that, while shooting a couple in the park, he recorded a murder in the background. Shoutouts to David Hemmings’ convertible Rolls-Royce and his white Jeans. With a performance by the actual Yardbirds. 9/10

“Nothing like a little disaster to sort things out”...

✴️

Tom McCarthy’s latest film, Stillwater, got quite a bit of pushover for using the Amanda Knox saga as inspiration without proper acknowledgement or credit. So that is legitimate. However, the sentimental story of father and daughter’s fraught relationship is clearly fictionalized and the background of the murder is secondary to that.

Like all of McCarthy’s slow and tender films (with the exception of ‘Million Dollar Arm‘), I liked it a lot.

✴️

2 about old people at the end of life:

✳️✳️✳️ Diane Keaton, dying of cancer, starts a cheerleading squad at a retirement community at Poms. A predictable, cheesy story that worked for me.

✳️✳️✳️ Re-watching all of Alexander Payne’s previous films: Next - About Schmidt. John Joseph Nicholson was one of the screen’s greatest actors. Now an old man at the end of his career, he discovers that his mediocre life had been meaningless, but for one little act of kindness (Photo Above).

8/10

✴️

I also saw Alexander Payne’s last film, Downsizing. It was so disappointing, that I felt the need to write a longer critique of this muddled turd.

First, I liked Alexander Payne: He was a great filmmaker who made 6 small, personal art films. But as always, when studios eventually give such artists big budgets, they screw up.

Where to start? First it was ‘Honey I shrank Matt Damon’ for environmental reasons, then you build a gated community for the Tiny, rich Americans. Then his wife Kristen Wiig leaves him and disappear from the story. Then he takes ecstasy at a disco party (The only fresh line of dialogue in the whole movie, when he’s under the influence - ‘I’m going to take off my shoes’.) Then he discovers an underclass of tiny, poor Mexicans who clean and maintain the middle class and lives outside the gates - just like in ‘Real’ America. Then there’s a political subplot where he becomes active helping those poor servants. Then he falls in love with a one-legged Vietnamese ‘Refugee-Saint’ with a fake limp, and even faker Vietnamese accent. And finally, at (1:35) the world as we know it is about to end, and he must choose between joining the Norwegian survivors into the Tiny People’s ‘Seed Vault’ of the future, or flying with his Vietnamese lover back into the present, to help the poor, before everybody eventually dies.

In short, it was terrible.

✴️

Gifted, about a cute 7 year old mathematical genius living with her uncle, after her mom committed suicide. It’s a light and fluffy tear-jerker that has a kernel of sweetness. The court drama part of this (or any other family drama) doesn’t work. 5+/10

✴️

Philip Seymour Hoffman X 4:

✳️✳️✳️ PT Anderson's 2012 masterly The Master, with masterful performances and precise score. Re-watch.

The first half, which was mostly about tortured drifter Joaquin Phoenix, was terrific. The Scientology cult of charismatic conman Philip Seymour Hoffman was less compelling. And the two stories converged exactly in the middle, (1:07) at the strange “Go Roving” naked dance. 8/10

✳️✳️✳️

Sidney Lumet’s last film Before the Devil Knows You're Dead (2007). Another train wreck of a hack job: It’s always about money, crimes, robberies, death.

✳️✳️✳️ Charlie Kaufman’s “postmodern” Synecdoche, New York - I hated everything about it.

It made me regret everything I ever thought was important in my life, and come to realize that I’m sorry about everything.

✳️✳️✳️ My first Todd Solondz’s - the ironically misnamed, and depressingly morbid Happiness. It’s about 3 unhappy sisters and all the depraved people around them (including creepy masturbator Philip Seymour Hoffman).

Fortunately, my copy was truncated at the half mark. Big ouch.

✴️

I haven’t re-visited The good, the bad and the ugly for over 40 years until now, but I found Max Tohline’s analyses of Leone’s Editing style to be superior to the 3 hours film slog itself.

✴️

Before the Flood, Leonardo DiCaprio’s 2016 documentary about climate change. Before Greta Thunberg, and before trump, and before the End of The World.

Climate-deniers of the world, Unite in hell!

✴️

Wim Wender’s The end of violence: A big time Hollywood producer decides to become a simple Mexican gardener in LA. Unfortunately, he’s Bill Pullman.

I watched it because a scene in the film recreates Edward Hopper’s Nighthawks, but the film was terrible all over and for many reasons.

Nighthawks, explained.

✴️

Sallah Shabati ( סאלח ש��תי ‎), a 1964 satirical Israeli film, the original Borat. Stereotypically primitive and unfunny. 1/10

- - - - -

Throw-back to the art project:

Nighthawks Adora.

- - - - -

(My complete movie list is here)

#movies

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mad-prophet-of-the-airwaves · 5 years ago

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My top 10 favorite films of the decade

1. Frances Ha (2012, Noah Baumbach, USA)

I can’t imagine that this film would appear on many decade end lists, much less at the #1 spot, but this film spoke to me on a deep, personal level that few films have. I’ve never seen a film perfectly represent both the ups and down of being in your 20s. Despite dealing with some complex issues, Frances Ha is lovably lighthearted, it’s sweetly optimistic tone is incredibly infectious and every time I watch it, I’m left with a huge smile on my face. It may not be the most sophisticated film ever made, but any film that eases my mind about being an aimless twentysomething deserves to be called the best of the decade.

2. Lady Bird (2017, Greta Gerwig, USA)

Absolutely hilarious from beginning to end, but also unflinchingly honest with some pitch-perfect characters, Greta Gerwig’s solo directorial debut is an incredibly intelligent story of growing up. What really impressed me about this film is that, while it does acknowledge the difficulty of being a teenager, sometimes it can be just as hard on your parents, a theme often ignored in coming-of-age films. This really is a special film and I hope it dazzles audiences for many more years to come.

3. Joker (2019, Todd Phillips, USA)

Joker was a film that took me a while to really appreciate. After my first viewing, I enjoyed it greatly, but thought it was a little rough around the edges, but as I thought about it more, I realized how brilliant it really was and after three viewings, I feel confident ranking it among the best of the decade. It is undoubtedly the boldest reinvention of the comic book movie I’ve ever seen and one of the most transgressive Hollywood films in recent memory. It’s dark, character driven style is something I hope will influence the superhero genre for the better. Not only does this work as an origin story, but it succeeds spectacularly as a social commentary on the effects of mental illness and our broken care system. Joker can be a bit of an unpleasant viewing, due to it’s consistently dark and depressing tone, but beneath that is an incredibly intelligent character study that pays tribute to the greats and boasts a bravura Joaquin Phoenix performance.

4. Blue Valentine (2010, Derek Cianfrance, USA)

I’ll be honest with you....this film made me cry....a lot, so much so that I’m actually reluctant to ever watch it again. An absolutely heartbreaking account of how it feels to fall out of love, Blue Valentine never lets go of it’s depressing tone, even the scenes that flashback to how the lead characters fell in love have a certain melancholy feeling to them, due to the juxtaposition with scenes of their crumbling marriage. Despite how brutal this film is, it is fantastic, from beginning to end. Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams are at their best and lend realistic, devastating performances to match the tone. I’m glad to have seen this film, but don’t expect me to revisit it anytime soon.

5. Paterson (2016, Jim Jarmusch, USA)

Much like Frances Ha, Paterson is a film that moves me with it’s sweetly, optimistic tone and warm sense of humor. A simple ode to the beauty that can be found in day-to-day life, it’s a film that’ll make you pine for the simple pleasures of routine and home. It’s a very meditative film that has a very calming effect, I can watch this film in a horrible mood and still feel relaxed. Simple, but effective, Paterson is another excellent entry in Jim Jarmusch’s filmography that I look forward to seeing again and again.

6. Julieta (2016, Pedro Almodóvar, Spain)

This is a film that, while well-reviewed upon it’s release, seems to have been forgotten, even by some Almodóvar fans, which is a shame because I think it’s among his best works. Paying tribute to the female-centered melodramas of his youth, Almodóvar weaved together a touching, tantalizing anti-mystery that provides a sad, but strangely hopeful look at the struggles women face in our modern society. It’s a fascinating film with a great message that I hope audiences will gain a new appreciation for in the future.

7. Nebraska (2013, Alexander Payne, USA)

While Alexander Payne’s works usually have serious themes, masked underneath a playful, comedic tone, Nebraska is a more serious, introspective work from the filmmaker. Focusing on the on-set of old age and dying familial relationships, Nebraska is a film that’s often poignant, but not without Payne’s distinct sense of humor. What really struck me about this film is how realistic the characters are. I could compare each and every character to someone in my own life, from Bruce Dern’s senile Woody to Will Forte’s cynical David. Without a doubt, this is my favorite Alexander Payne film, due to it’s touching story, brilliant acting and it’s crisp black-and-white cinematography.

8. The Master (2012, Paul Thomas Anderson, USA)

If I had to pick one living filmmaker as a favorite, it’d be Paul Thomas Anderson. Each and every one of his films is an absolute labor of love and are technically perfect, from first frame to last. The Master is, by far, his most audacious. Every asepect of this movie works perfectly. It’s cinematography is absolutely breathtaking and captures the post-WWII setting, all of the performances are astounding, especially from the late Philip Seymour Hoffman in one of his best roles, the film’s themes of the nature of man and humans desperate need for a sense of connection are very thought-provoking and ring true. Admittedly, I had a hard time between choosing this film and PTA’s equally brilliant Phantom Thread, but the ambiguous nature and brilliant performances of The Master seems to have left the bigger impact on me.

9. Inside Llewyn Davis (2013, Coen brothers, France/USA)

While containing many of the familiar traits of the Coens’ work, Inside Llewyn Davis feels unlike any of their other works. It’s a slow, profound and melancholy film, unlike their previous eccentric comedies. I’m surprised at how well the duo can handle such a simple film. Oscar Isaac gives an excellent performance in this film as the titular Llewyn. It takes a lot of skill to take a character as unlikable as his and make him endearing. I loved the attention to detail of this film, the Coens made sure that this film was as accurate to the period as possible and it shows. At times, it felt like I was watching a documentary about 60s-era Greenwich Village. It may catch some Coen fans off guard, but it’s a fantastic entry in their filmography that you don’t want to miss.

10. We Need to Talk About Kevin (2011, Lynne Ramsay, UK)

Definitely one of the most unnerving films I’ve ever seen, We Need to Talk About Kevin is a film that has an added poignancy in recent years due to the rise of attention given to our treatment of the mentally ill. This is a film that gnaws at you by asking uncomfortable questions about mental illness, motherhood and responsibility for our actions, without ever picking sides or providing us with easy answers. Making this all the more impactful are the top-notch performances from Tilda Swinton and Ezra Miller as the troubled mother and violent son, respectively. A successful blend of horror and drama, this is a film that will unnerve even the most hardened viewers, so naturally, a second viewing isn’t guaranteed, but it’s a great film that deserves your attention, even if it’s only once.

...And that’s my list for the 2010s. Hopefully, the 2020s will be as strong a decade for film as this one was.

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47pictures · 3 years ago

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“All-Star”

Link to original r/nosleep post:

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/mv9j9a/for_my_blog_i_toured_a_movie_studio_to_find_the/

________________________________________________________________

I finally made it to Hollywood… at least, I suppose that’s what I’d say if I were trying to make it big. That wasn’t exactly the case, though. On the contrary, my old hometown friend was the one who I’d say ‘made it big,' and she was the only reason I managed to get there. No way in hell I could just stroll through these Hollywood gates without some sort of reputation associated with my name.

I’m currently pursuing a degree in journalism, and right now I’ve got a pretty successful status as a blogger, and hopefully podcaster in the near future. My topics typically cover things involving entertainment, specifically movies, television, some celebrity gossip here-and-there, the ins and outs of the film and occasionally music industry, nerd topics about comic books or comic book movies, and I could go on. Essentially, all the things you’d expect from an entertainment blogger.

I don’t have a secret or special tip for how I grew a mass following. It just sort of happened. I did it since I was in high school - sophomore year, to be exact, and it started mainly as a hobby. Most people are surprised to hear that I was such a good writer and articulate for my age when they look back on the articles I’d put up during that time, speaking on topics such as the ‘downfall of blockbuster films,’ and the ‘toxicity of media's body standards on the youth.’ Truthfully, I didn’t know all of what I was saying half the time. Writing was sort of just my natural gift that I honed to where I could essentially bullshit anything well enough to make a great story. However, being ethical always remained my moral code.

The topic I was covering now involved my own personal ‘investigation’ of a famous movie studio known as Gemini Films. They’ve put out several flicks now that have garnered what most would consider moderate success (they're no Warner Bros. or Paramount, that's for sure). They deal mostly in the thriller/horror genre, sort of like Blumhouse. I’m a bit more in the sci-fi, comedy realm when it comes to my tastes, but really, I’m a bit of a pussy when it comes to scary stuff.

So why am I 'investigating' them? Well, as it turns out, it's their amazing use of special effects. Yep, that’s it. Special effects, that thing we fell for as children we called ‘movie magic,' and growing up learned that some of it were all the crafty work of well-put CGI. Though that’s usually the case, this time, something about Gemini Films seemed different. They’ve always been praised for their ‘hyperrealistic’ visual effects and pulling off stunts that would otherwise seem impossible. I was watching one of their action/horror films titled Last Thorn, and in a particular scene, a character’s on-screen death is, well, very lightly put, gruesome. I’ve seen my share of on-screen gore and played plenty of Mortal Kombat growing up, but I gotta say, I found the scene hard to watch. To clarify, it involved a character literally exploding before the camera, and from the way it was shot and the lack of cuts and edits typically required to create the illusion of a scene, it seemed quite real. A little too real…

They’ve done other things aside from their special effects department that some people on internet discussion forums found a bit too impressive. Take the actors, for instance. In their dramatic scenes, especially the horror flicks, I’m almost always convinced that the actors are actually going to die on screen. I’m surprised all of them haven’t been given Oscars yet, ‘cause goddamn, you’d think the director was holding them at gunpoint. We all saw just how amazing the acting was in films like Hereditary and The Babadook were, but I gotta say, after watching these films, they make those two look like child’s play (no pun intended to the Chucky series). I was so impressed with the actors that I had to look them up and see what other work they’d done, but from what I did find, their resumes didn’t seem that much greater than the work they’d done for GF. It was almost as if that was the peak of their careers unless they decided to further their contracts to star in any more of their movies. Anything else they did pale in comparison that showcased their acting chops.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jamie Douglas.

It had somewhat of household name potential, I thought. She was the next rising star. She’d just won a Golden Globe for her leading role in a TV series I’m sure no one had high hopes for in the beginning, and her name was now attached to an Academy Award-winning film for Best Original Screenplay, all at the age of 22. Her acting was stellar, always had been even growing up back in high school when we did theater together. I was never for the acting side of things; I always preferred the technical realm and behind-the-scenes work. She, however, had the ‘it’ factor. I never once doubted that she’d be famous. It was destined for her.

The taxi driver dropped me off in front of a luxurious one-story home in the Beverly Hills neighborhood, surrounded by other similar houses with a property value larger than what I’d probably make in my lifetime if I was being honest. From the outside, her home reminded me of that gilded, golden age of Hollywood back in the 60s, with a slanted roof and art deco-styled exaggerated features. It was nice and simple. But that’s how Jamie was. Nice and simple.

I could see her peeking through the curtains of her window before she came running out the door to meet me in the front yard. That big beautiful smile and those joyous eyes came rushing at me with open arms.

“Christian!” she screamed my name with excitement, as she gave me a big, suffocating hug.

I hugged her back with my free arm, as my other one was still carrying my trolley bag and she had that one pinned in her grip.

“I’m so glad you made it,” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, I made it to Hollywood, right?” I dryly humored.

Jamie giggled as she began to pull back from her hug and put both her hands on my shoulders.

“Yes we did,” she said with a big smile, flashing her perfectly straight, white teeth. “We sure did.”

She led me inside the house and gave me a tour. Compared to the outside, the inside was the complete opposite in regards to the decorative era. Whereas the exterior was ‘groovy’, the inside was a bit more with the times. Wide-open spaces, tan or beige-colored furniture and walls, a wide sliding door for the backyard where you can see the pool. Jamie recently moved into the house, so I figured there wouldn’t be a lot of things to fill it up with just yet.

“Someone said Bette Davis used to live in this house, which I knew was bullshit, otherwise the value on this home woulda been way outta my league,” Jamie commented.

I chuckled. “Oh, I think you’re well on your way, trust me,” I reassured.

I was going to be staying with her for a week while I did my journaling/blogging. We did tons of catching up. She gave me all the inside scoop of what goes on in Hollywood - or ‘Hollyweird’ as I liked to call it - and even some of her other famous neighbors you might recognize living double lives on the down-low. She said she’d been to a couple of big mansion parties as well, where you’ll see all sorts of celebs from different categories of entertainment. Actors, athletes, musicians, models, influencers, you name it. But Jamie insists that she doesn’t attend those very often, if hardly at all. She prefers to be a homebody when she’s not seeking work through her agent, and her extraversion mostly comes to play when it involves networking.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The rest of the night we stayed up watching TV and YouTube videos. One that fascinated both of us was a video explaining how scientists managed to find a way to make a perfectly cooked steak from a cow, but without actually harming or slaughtering it. Instead, they extracted a small sample of the cow’s cells and took it to a lab where the cells would essentially grow into muscle for it to be cooked later.

“I’d consider that over going vegan,” Jamie said.

But I grimaced at the thought. “I don’t know, it just doesn’t seem right,” I remarked.

"What, are you vegan?"

"No, not that. Just the thought of cloning animals, ya know?"

“I mean, it’s not like they’re killing the cow or anything. They said it’s perfectly unharmed.”

“I know, but still…”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The next morning was day one for me. Jamie had the right connections to get me an on-set tour of the studio lots associated with Gemini Films. I was greeted and led by the third assistant director (or AD as they’re commonly referred to).

“Hi, I’m Tiffany, nice to meet you,” she said, with a rather forced smile and handshake.

She carried a clipboard in her other arm, as well as a hand-held radio clipped to the pocket of her jeans, and I saw that she also had an earpiece nestled in her right ear. I could tell she was about her business and probably didn’t have time to be overly nice or talk too much.

I got a sneak peek of their most current production under the production title *"*Cold Silence", which required me to sign an NDA beforehand, of course. That wasn't actually their final name for the movie, but it's a common thing for them to do when shooting a film when either they haven't decided on a name yet or to keep the nature of the project a secret. It sort of took me back to my theater tech days with all the set designs and props lying around, except these were much more detailed and intricate thanks to their higher budget than what my high school had at the time. Here, there was limitless potential. Tiffany also introduced me to the other ADs, PAs, boom operators, cameramen, make-up artists, and then last but certainly not least, the director.

“Jeffrey?” Tiffany called to the man sitting in the director’s chair. The man turned to face her and then me. “This is Christian Watkins. He’s the man we’re giving a behind-the-scenes scoop for his… blog?” She looked to me for confirmation, to which I nodded. “Yeah, for his blog.”

The man in the big chair stood up with a cool smile and classy charm and extended his hand for me to shake.

“Christian, nice to meet you,” the man spoke in a tenor pitch. “Jeffrey Bachmann,” he introduced himself.

I didn’t take too much time last night trying to read up on his bio, but from what I could tell at first glance I knew that he was about in his mid to late fifties, as his hair was greying and skin was starting to wrinkle, and I could see that he had a surprisingly calm and laid-back demeanor. Surprising to me, at least. I always thought directing was a high-paced, chaotic mess that never ceased to present a myriad of complications onset that’d make any man want to pull their hair out. But Jeffrey seemed calm, collected, and very personable.

“Hi, thank you for having me,” I replied. “Seriously, this is like a really cool opportunity for me and my blog.”

“Hey man, it’s my pleasure,” Jeffrey said. “I heard you got a big following behind your name. Props to you. I respect the work ethic, especially giving your readers what they really want to see, ya know?”

I shrugged modestly. “Well thank you, but this time was mostly in my own interest to seek out this idea for my current blog,” I said.

“Ah, an interest in GF, huh?” Jeffrey replied. “Well, what would you like to know? We’ve got nothing but time today. In fact, we’re just getting ready to shoot the mangle scene for today and then we’ll wrap it up before we review the dailies.”

“Mangle scene?”

“Oh yeah, if you’ve got a weak stomach or aren’t into gore you don’t have to watch.”

At least he gave me discretion. “Hmm, I think I’ll tough this one out,” I said. “For the blog.”

Jeffrey gave me a sincere but slightly unsettling grin. “That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.”

He was a nice guy so far, but you know how you just meet certain people that for whatever reason, out of their control, their aura seems off? Maybe it was my preconceived notion and warranted cynicism I had of people working in Hollywood. Just a bunch of sharks in a pool with hungry eyes for desperate young talents eager to take a dive in the spotlight. But as I’d imagine with any field, there had to be a decent share of lambs among the many wolves.

Suddenly, one of the makeup artists scampered over to us, their attention directly at Jeffrey.

“Hey,” they said to him with a noticeably fake inflection.

“Hey, what's up?” Jeffrey returned.

“Savannah? She’s losing it back there. Said she wants to talk to you and only you.”

Jeffrey nodded. “Don’t worry, I got it,” he said, as he patted his hand on the MUAs shoulder. He then gave me an apologetic look. “Sorry, Christian, duty calls, but hey, Tiffany?” he looked to the stern AD. “Make sure he gets a front-row view for the martini shot.”

“Yes sir,” Tiffany replied.

Jeffrey and the MUA stepped off to handle whatever business needed handling regarding one of the actresses backstage in the dressing room.

“Martini shot?” I asked.

“Last shot for the day,” Tiffany explained. “For me, that’s a term I like to take literally.”

She seemed so serious all this time that I found the joke almost funny.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

There was now quiet on the set. Shooting was about to start shortly. At this point in the movie, the main character has a stand-off that turns into a big fight scene with the main bad guy at a warehouse factory building. At first, there’s a gunfight, then eventually they both run out of ammo and it comes down to a fistfight before finally having a standstill on top of a rail just over a giant industrial shredder.

Right now, the actor playing the bad guy, Will, is hanging on for his life over the rail above the shredder, while Thomas, the main good guy, is standing over him victoriously. My question was, is the shredder real? ‘Cause it sure as hell looks like it. It wasn’t turned on yet, but just from a glance it seemed legit enough that if I dropped something as sturdy as a microwave in there, it’d come out jelly on the other end.

For the blog, I told myself. For the blog…

Suddenly, my suspicions were confirmed once Jeffrey called to have the shredder turned on. The machine roared to life, the inverting sharp metal gears rotating past each other being a black hole eating everything that passes through it with no escape. Holy shit. It was actually fucking real.

Jeffrey gave the nod to the 1st AD, and the AD returned the same.

“Action!” the AD called.

Based on what Jeffrey showed me from the script, Thomas is supposed to stomp on Will’s hand that’s gripping onto the edge of the rail, causing him to fall to his death into the shredder. The camera was now rolling, yet, I didn’t see Thomas do the deed. Was he pausing for dramatic effect? Was he acting for the camera? I wasn’t quite sure why he was hesitating.

I peaked over to notice that Jeffrey, the once calm and collected man I met backstage earlier, was now beginning to seem noticeably impatient and about to snap at any moment. There was now that dark edge I noticed about him from before but couldn’t quite put a finger on that I could see now coming to light.

Hesitation filled Thomas’ veins, about to raise his foot, then not, dragging on the scene longer than intended. From this distance, I tried to see Will’s own expression, and I regret ever doing so. Surely he was acting, but I’ll be damned, it was too good. Whatever fear he portrayed transmuted itself into me now. It was the kind of fear that I didn’t think could be replicated on command. Jeffrey stood up from his seat, but just before he could say anything or call ‘cut’, Thomas stomped his foot down on Will’s hand, and we all watched as his fingers slip from the railing. Will sent out a bloodcurdling scream as he plummeted to his ‘death’. What followed will haunt me forever.

Do you know what it sounds like to have a person’s body mangled to death? Have you bitten into the bone of any sort of meat? Heard and felt the crunch? Or maybe even the crunch of celery? I myself have never broken a single bone in my body, but imagining what it might sound like other than what I’d heard in movies or video games all seemed elementary now. At first, I had to look away, but what forced me out of my seat to leave was Will’s horrifying screams. He’d fallen feet first into the shredder, so his lower body had to suffer first before reaching his upper body and finally silencing him at the head.

I ran to find the nearest trashcan and hurled. I guess I really didn’t have the stomach for gore, at least, not to this degree. Will’s screams kept looping in my head. It was a new primal sound that evoked a dread within me that I wish I never discovered. The sound of torment. One thing was for sure, Will was one fucking hell of an actor - if this was acting. But the shredder…

It seemed so real. And there was no greenscreen besides the ones to be used for the background later in post-production. I saw him fall right into the damn thing. With my own eyes. In living color. There were no edits, no crazy tricks, no lighting effects. There couldn’t be. It just wasn’t possible.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I was sitting down trying to recuperate, as everyone else around me was wrapping up set for the day. Tiffany came over and handed me a bottle of water.

“Thanks,” I said, taking it.

“You feelin’ better?” she asked.

“Hmm,” I answered with a scoff, raising both my eyebrows and taking a sip from the bottle.

“I’m surprised you stuck around if you had such a weak stomach. I mean, he at least warned you.”

“I usually don’t. But that?” I shook my head. “How do you guys do it? It looked so real.”

“I’m just pulling your leg. I almost vomited too my first time. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

If it was a shame to flinch at something so vile, I don’t wanna know what goes on in Jeffrey’s mind to even come up with such a scene. Speaking of which, I still didn’t get a one-on-one interview with him as I’d hoped. All I had was the end result of his ‘movie magic’, but not how he did it. At this point, I'm not sure I really wanna know.

I went to go get my belongings, which were left in one of the dressing rooms, and was stopped by the sound sniffling from the one a couple doors ahead of mine. I looked on the door to read whose room it belonged to. It read: SAVANNAH YOUNG. She was one of the lead actresses in the movie, or rather I should say the only actress in the whole film. With the makeup artist and Jeffrey thing that happened earlier, it was evident to me that something sour had gone on behind the scenes I didn’t know about.

The door was cracked open and I couldn’t see her face entirely from my view, but I knew she was sobbing. She looked to be sitting in front of her mirror. I was about to just ignore it and go on about my business.

I lightly knocked on the door. “You okay in there?” I asked.

She stopped and I could hear her get up and approach the door. She pulled it back just enough to where I could see her whole face. She was beautiful, just like Jamie, even if she had been crying.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Savannah said. “Thank you.”

There was a brief awkward moment of silence between us. Clearly, she wasn’t fine, but I didn’t wish to pry any further than that.

“Are you one of the new PAs?” she asked. I arched a brow. “Production assistant?” she clarified.

“Oh, no, I’m just a visitor,” I assured. “Writing for my blog. I was supposed to be writing about behind-the-scenes things and how it all works around here, but I bitched out from the ‘mangling scene’.”

Savannah gave a short nod. “I see,” she said. “Well… I don’t blame you.”

I wasn’t sure if it was the way she said it or just from the state that I was in, but her words gave me chills.

“I should get going,” I told her. “Nice meeting you.”

“Likewise,” she replied, and then shut the door.

I got my stuff from the dressing room and got ready to head out. I wonder what could’ve made Savannah so down to where the director had to get involved and set her straight. Jeffrey seemed pleasant to work with at first glance, but who knows, maybe he had a mean streak to him after all, especially the way he looked during the shooting of the scene. God, I just wanted to forget about it. I can’t unhear the sounds. The bones crunching, the blood splattering, and the screaming. The fucking screaming…

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As I was leaving the studio lot, I noticed the cleaning crew of two men dump a large amount of black bags in the dumpster. From the way they swung the bags over into the bin, the shit didn’t seem light. The bags were in several different sizes, some small, some big, some disproportionate. I stood there and watched as the two men finished disposing of the junk and walked away to go about their other duties.

Regular, common sense me would’ve just picked up the phone, called Jamie to let her know I’m ready to get picked up, and go about my day. But the nosy blogger me kept itching…

I made sure the coast was clear and made my way over to the bin. I can’t believe I was actually dumpster diving, and for what? What did I really expect to find? In my head, I knew the answer, but was avoiding it, either out of how ridiculous it may sound or, God forbid, I was right.

The trash wasn’t stacked high enough from the bottom for me to simply reach, so I had to literally get in there myself. I climbed over on the other end, raised the lid, and jumped down on the piles of plastic bags, holding the lid up with my arm and my breath so I didn’t get a huge whiff of the smell. Though, if I did need to puke again, I supposed this would be the place to do it.

I immediately noticed the bags the men threw away, but in order for me to check what was inside, I’d have to crouch down and let the lid close on me. Fine. That’s what the flashlight on my phone was for. Surrounded in darkness and garbage now, I turned the flash on, illuminating the four dirty walls around me and I pulled back one of the bags. I felt around to try and see what sort of contents might be inside. Mush. It felt all mushy with chunks of solid and a little bit of liquid.

This was stupid, I thought. I realized how stupid I probably looked right then and there, sitting in a bin full of filth looking for clues like some sort of private detective. My followers have no idea how far I’d go, but this was ridiculous. Oh well, I’m too deep in it now, no pun intended.

I held my phone in my mouth as I used my hands to rip open the plastic. My heart began pounding as I slowly pried the bag open. Once I got a peek inside, shame and embarrassment came over me.

Food.

I should’ve just called Jamie to come get me. Had I really become that desperate? I threw the bag over and out of my way. Then I noticed the bag underneath had trickles of fluid. Curious, I shined the light down on it. They were red trickles. Considering how I’d just overreacted only to find a bag full of thrown out lunch, I wasn’t about to get all up in arms about finding red drops behind a Hollywood studio lot. I didn’t know the full recipe for fake blood, but if I recall correctly, Alfred Hitchcock used chocolate when they filmed the shower scene from Psycho.

I tried to follow the small trail and see if it led to another bag. I slowly pointed the light further up and it led me to the bag just behind the one I tossed to the side. Looks like it had a small bust that caused it to leak. When I pulled this one over, a very noticeable smell filled my nostrils and erased any other scent of the trash that surrounded me. It was a metallic, rusty sort of odor, like copper from a penny. However, that smell also belonged to something else…

I ripped open the bag, and with the shine of my light beaming down, I was welcomed to a bright crimson sight of mashed blood and guts. It had to be fake, I thought. It had to… but the way I recoiled from the putrid metallic fresh scent of carnage, my primal instincts told me that wasn’t the case. I innately knew that it was real. I was staring at Will’s mangled body.

Frozen from fear, I sat there for who-knows-how-long. What the fuck was I supposed to do? I’d call the cops first, of course, but they would need evidence, and even then they’d probably dismiss me after I told them I dove into the dumpster of a movie set where fake blood is a common prop. I’d tell Jamie the same, but she’d look at me crazy, too.

I unlocked my phone and started snapping pictures. As much as I could. I even opened some other bags and did the same. I tried to snap every bit of remains that was left of Will and saved them into my phone. It felt like a sick test to see how long I could hold my breath so I wouldn’t gag, and I think I broke a new record that day.

I snapped probably about 47 pictures on my phone before I finally shot up and threw open the bin. The wave of fresh air hit me like a truck, and enjoyed it for only a brief second before turning to see Jeffrey, Tiffany, and the other AD standing by his side. My soul left my body right then and there.

“Christian?” Jeffrey said, sounding concerned.

Fucking say something, I told myself. I did my best not to stutter and look stupid.

“Hey, Jeff,” I said, raising the inflection of my voice, probably sounding dumb.

“Going for a swim there?” Jeffrey joked.

I fake laughed, then put on my best acting skills. “I cannot for the life of me find my ring.”

“Your ring?”

“Yeah, my mom’s ring?”

Then, with the slick subtle motion, I hid my hands to where they couldn’t see them behind the walls of the bin, and with careful coordination used my fingers on my right hand to pull the ring I already had on and flicked it down onto the trash below. I shuffled my feet over the bags I stood on to make noise so they wouldn’t hear the ring drop. Please God, don’t let the ring hit the hard bottom floor or one of the rusty walls, I thought. To my relief, it didn’t.

“Oh man, I’m sorry, Christian, I haven’t seen it,” Jeffrey said, as he looked at the other two as they also shook their heads. “But we can definitely look around again and let you know if we find anything.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” I said, trying not to make my voice tremble with anxiety.

“Now, c’mon, let’s get you outta there,” Jeffrey said, waving his hand over.

I nodded and shot a quick timid smile. I climbed out of the bin and faced the three before me, wiping myself down.

“Hands a little messy there,” Jeffrey said.

Anxiety raced through me again, but adrenaline had my back to make sure I didn’t fuck up by saying anything dumb.

“Oh, the fake blood?” I chortled. “Yeah, you guys lots of that shit in there. Smells like a chocolate factory.”

Jeffrey fell for it, and laughed. Good. But he could just as easily be playing me right now.

“Given how you ran off earlier back there I’m surprised you can stand to look at it, better yet, touch it,” he remarked.

“I’m sorry about that,” I stammered but stayed on track. “It’s just… I now see for myself, no one does it like GF.”

“Haha, you don’t have to flatter me to get back my respect. Don’t sweat it. I totally understand.”

Is that so? I thought.

“You could use that martini shot right about now, huh?” Tiffany joked.

Definitely not with her any time soon. Or any of them, for that matter.

“Well we’re just heading out for the day, you got a ride?” said Jeffrey.

“Yeah, I should probably call Jamie now and let her know I’m done,” I replied.

“It’s no problem, man, I can give you a lift. I can drop you off wherever you need me to.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Seriously, I insist-”

“Jamie and I got a spa appointment to catch in a bit. Otherwise I appreciate the offer.”

Jeffrey had a brief look in his eyes, a glint of what I could only compare to a wolf’s gaze hiding behind that sheep’s clothing he carried himself around as, and then smiled and nodded.

“Okay, Christian,” he said. “Once again, nice to meet you and I hoped you enjoyed the tour, and hopefully make some good content for your blog.”

“Absolutely,” I said. “Thank you so much again. Seriously, I can’t thank you enough.”

“It’s nothing, Chris,” Jeffrey said, throwing me off a bit. “Can I call you, Chris?’

I shrugged. “Sure. I mean, I called you Jeff by accident,” I said.

“It’s fine. Chris and Jeff it is.”

I needed to get away from here. Now and as fast as possible. But I still needed to do one more thing.

“Any chance I can wash these off inside?” I said, raising my bloodied hands.

“Oh of course,” Jeff said.

“I can lead him back,” Tiffany said, ready to go with, but Jeffrey stopped her.

“Ah, he knows his way in, right?” Jeff looked to me for reassurance.

“Yeah,” I answered confidently.

“Good, well hopefully I’ll see you around, Chris, and you enjoy the rest of your day.”

“Thank you, Jeff. And you all do the same.”

As I walked past them and towards the studio lot, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was being set up. Why hadn’t he let Tiffany escort me back inside? I’d think that would be customary for them to do for visitors entering and exiting the building. But I felt that they were watching me from behind, and with every step, I grew more and more anxious.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I’d made it inside and the lot was now nearly empty and quieter. I didn’t see a single person in sight, and only a few lights remained on, making it mostly dark. I hurried the fuck up and did what I came to do, as I didn’t wanna be here any longer and didn’t feel safe.

Down the hall where the dressing rooms were, I rushed over to Savannah’s door, and saw that it was closed. I tried opening it only to see it was locked. Looking down, there was no light shining through the cracks either, meaning there was no one inside. She wasn’t there. Shit.

I washed my hands in the bathroom, scrubbing the dried blood off as thoroughly as possible, getting under nails and all, cringing at the thought of it being Will’s. Suddenly, I heard a noise from outside the hall leading to the bathroom. Petrified, my heart sank into my chest, and I froze. I shut the water off, and carefully approached the door. I listened for any other sounds as I placed my ear closer. After a few moments, I heard the noise again, but then realized that it seemed to be coming from one of the dressing rooms just outside in the hall.

Since I carry a notebook around most of the time for jotting down notes, I certainly always carry a pen. What most people don’t know is that I carry a military tactical pen for a variety of uses, and in times like these, it can be used as a subtle but effective weapon. I switched the tip from an ink ball to a small slick blade.

I opened the bathroom door and crept through the hall over to the dressing room door that made the noise, holding the pen underneath the breast pocket of my sweater. On the outside of the door, it read, “WILL BANKS.”

Confused, I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Common sense me once again kept barking in my brain telling me to GTFO, but I had to be sure. I gave three shy knocks and waited. There was definitely someone in there because whatever noise I thought I heard from behind came to an utter halt. I could hear faint whispers of someone’s voice, and then another. There was more than one. My hand trembled as it tightly gripped the pen underneath with sweat as I heard whoever it was on the other end of the door approach.

It swung open, and there stood Will Banks, the man whose blood was just on my hands moments ago, alive and well, in the flesh. It couldn’t be, I thought to myself.

“Can I help you?” he said.

I just stood there, baffled, without answering. Behind him, I saw Savannah, who instantly recognized me and came over.

“Hi,” she said. “I thought everyone left.” She looked to Will. “He was visiting the set today for his vlog, or I’m sorry, blog.”

Will nodded, understanding now. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t get to meet you. Will Banks,” he said, pointing at his name on the door. “As you can see.” Savannah chuckled, and Will extended his hand for me to shake.

“Christian, or Chris,” I said, releasing the pen from inside my sweater and reaching my own hand out to take his. "Whichever you please."

He had a firm shake, and it felt uncanny considering what I’d just witnessed. I was touching him, feeling his skin and bone underneath, the warmth of his body temperature through the flesh. He was real. He was alive and breathing. That couldn’t be faked. That couldn’t be a visual effect. This was real. After we let go, suddenly my hand went cold. Everything about this seemed off and downright strange.

“Did you stick around for the shoot?” Will asked.

“I did, as a matter of fact.”

“Well, what’d you think?”

I wanted to say so many things right then and there, he had no idea.

“Um... y’all are some damn good actors,” I said.

Will laughed a bit, accepting my sham form of flattery, but Savannah, not so much. She gave one of those forced gestures as to not make it feel awkward, though, I noticed it right away.

“How do you do it?” I asked.

“I would give you some artistic bullshit answer like ‘study your craft’ or ‘years of training,' things like that, but honestly… it just kinda clicks, ya know?”

I fake chuckled. “No, I don’t. It looked kinda real from my end. Too real, I might add. Care to go into detail how you guys pulled it off?”

“Well, uh-”

Savannah interrupted. “Wait, you know what Jeffrey would say,” she whispered to him.

“I know, but it’s for his blog,” Will argued.

“But still.”

“I mean, Jeffrey’s not here, right?” I chimed in.

They both looked at me, then at each other. There seemed to be some sort of nonverbal understanding between them, and Will looked back at me.

“All right, for the sake of your blog, I’ll give you what I can to the best of my wording, that sound good?” Will proposed.

I took the pen back out from inside, switching it to the ink ball with a short click, and whipped out my small notebook. “Hit me,” I said.

“Get ready for this one. Basically, we’ve been using a new thing in the biz lately sort of like mocap but it’s not exactly. It’s also kinda like hologram sort of tech?”

“Really?” I said, eyes widened with interest as I wrote words down.

“Yep. That’s how we did it. What you saw, was as real as the hologram thingamajig allowed you to.”

“Hmm.”

“The shredder, too.”

“What?”

“The shredder. That was a hologram also.”

“Really? Okay…”

I finished writing on my notepad then turned it so that Will could read it.

BITE ME, I wrote with a big circle around it.

He laughed. Savannah did, too, but, again, in a strange nervous and restrained demeanor.

“That’s a nice story,” I said. “So if you’re ready to quit bullshitting with me, and tell the truth, I’m ready,” I spoke in a playful yet no-nonsense tone. “How’d you do it?”

“You’re good, man,” Will said with a smile, pointing his finger at me. “Like a true journalist.”

Any other day I’d be pleased to hear that, but I was serious. I needed to know, so much that I’d forgotten how long I’d actually been here. I told myself I was gonna leave as soon as I could, but now, for some reason after talking with Will and seeing how personable and genuine he came off, he put me a bit at ease. Maybe I was blowing this out of proportion. But then the screams echoed in my head again, and the smell...

“You’re not gonna tell me, are you?” I said.

“Look, I wish I could, honestly, but if I did, Jeffrey may not be too happy with either of us,” Will responded sincerely. That much was true, I could tell.

“All right, I think I tortured you enough,” I said, then immediately regretted my choice of words.

“No worries, man. Nice meetin’ ya. Good luck with the blog.”

“Thanks.”

I looked at Savannah one last time, and she looked back with a serious and almost scary gaze as though she needed to tell me something very bad. That’s who I came back for anyways. But that opportunity was a lost cause now, as I left with nothing and still no understanding of how Gemini Films did their visual effects? And I lost my mother’s ring. Fuck, I didn’t have time to go get it right now. I didn’t wanna risk being seen again. Hopefully, Jeffrey keeps his word and they somehow manage to give it back. That being said, I'd be fine with not having to see him ever again.

Whose blood was that? Whose body was that in the dumpster? Was it real? Was it actually just that well made to where the average person could be fooled into thinking it was actual flesh? Who’d go through the trouble of all that?

The screams of losing your life inch by inch, the sounds that would haunt me forever. And the smell of what was inside that bag. That instinctual gut feeling… how was it not real?

#writing #story #horror #nosleep #horror stories

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rodpupo2 · 4 years ago

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Research: Storytelling project

JOCK

Mark Simpson, best known as Jock, is a Scottish comic book artist and illustrator. He began his career in 1999 working on the British comic book publisher 2000 AD (where most of the British artists and writers, began their career, before going to the major leagues like DC and Marvel), and started working with characters like the Judge Dredd.

The artist began his career in the USA with The Losers, at Vertigo (a subdivision of DC comics), and some issues of the Green Arrow.

He also have worked with conceptual arts for various films such as Iron man 3, X-men days of the future past, and Star Wars episode VIII.

I have known Jock for a while, I have seen many of his works in the comics, and he is known for working mainly with covers, where he does extremely surreal works, mixing various types of colors, and always uses a lot of shading, not worrying if the characters are in the correct proportion, because that is not his proposal.

But I know he did some works as a sequential artist, like The Losers, for example, where he makes extremely tight pictures, always focusing on the expressions of the characters, and especially on the hands that he most likes to do.

His storyboards or sketches are very different, because his drawings do not follow the traditional way of being centered on the pictures, many of his characters are jumping over the pictures, to show the size of the action scene that Jock wants to do.

It is worth remembering that he mixes his drawings made with pencil and nanquin, with digital, often taking pictures of different landscapes or scenarios, and drawing over them, and mixing with his drawn character to make an interesting composition.

Despite all this, he has a very peculiar style, which many people complain about the lack of movement and poses that his characters does. That his lines are also very dirty and dark. But Jock says, that this is his way of drawing, that he likes to have a not so commercial style, like many other artists. He likes to play with colors and likes to draw his characters, in a little more simple poses, and glorifying the background.

Saul Bass

Saul Bass was an American graphic designer and filmmaker, he’s known for designing movie posters and title sequences.

For 40th years, he worked with Hollywood greatest filmmakers, such as Stanley Kubrick, Alfred Hitchcock, Martin Scorsese and Billy Wilder.

Bass was born in New York in 1920, to a Jewish family, he was all ways drawing when he was a child.He graduated from James Monroe High school in the Bronx. He studied part time at art students league in Manhattan, and moved to Brooklyn College, where he had classes with György Kepes, a famous Hungarian painter and photographer.

He began in Hollywood in the 40’s, designing prints for films like champion (1949), death salesman (1951) and the moon is blue (1953).

He became widely known for creating the title sequence for Otto Preminger’s The man with the golden arm (1955), which’s about a jazz musician, addicted to heroin. Bass decided to create a poster which dialogues with the controversial subject, so he chosed the arm as the central object, as is a image which relates with heroin.

For Alfred Hitchcock, he provided memorable posters, like Vertigo(1958), North by Northwest(1959) and Psycho(1960).

For Martin Scorsese he had done the posters of The Goodfellas(1990), Cape Fear (1991), the Age of innocence (1993) and Casino (1995).

For Stanley Kubrick, he designed Spartacus (1960), and probably the best poster in his career, which is the poster from The Shining (1980).Kubrick, however, wasn’t amused. On the sketches themselves (which were later discovered in his personal affects) he wrote “Looks like science fiction.”Title looks small, looks like the ink didn’t take on the part that goes light,” and “Maze too abstract and too much emphasis on maze,” and, the most scathing of all, “Don’t like artwork.”

More discussions followed, and Bass agreed upon an illustrative approach of a large head peering through the title.As Kubrick instructed, the poster evokes both “terror” and the “supernatural.”

Bass once told,that his main goal for his titles sequences is “try to reach for a simple, visual phrase that tells you what the picture is all about and evokes the essence of the story".

James Cameron

James Cameron is a famous film director, which is for having two of the greatest box office films of all time, which are Avatar and Titanic. In addition, he is always revolutionizing in special effects, always bringing something new and revolutionary, but it all starts on his drawing desk, with his sketches and storyboards.

James Cameron has always been known for creating extremely interesting worlds, and completely out of the ordinary. Starting with the film Aliens, the sequel to Ridely Scott's film, where he expanded this world by creating an ecosystem for the aliens, in addition to showing futuristic equipment, for the space army that faces the aliens.

He also created concepts, for the Terminator films 1 and 2, where it was an idea never before seen of a robot that travels in time to kill a person. Its detailed perfectly drawn storyboards show one of the most interesting scenes in the film, where the terminator does a self surgery, revealing his true form.

And finally, once again creating a whole world, with a fauna and flora never seen before in the movie Avatar.

Cameron always wanted to create worlds, so he putted everything on a piece of paper when he was a child, where later, he took courses of drawings and did art colleges, to get a clearer idea of how his worlds and characters could be.

Before being a director, he wanted to be a writer and an artist, but he never thought his ideals could be just in a book, he wanted to expand these ideas in a way never seen before.

Perhaps what impresses me most about James Cameron, besides being a creative force, is all the care he takes with his works, he said in an interview, which he always preserves all his storyboards, even from those films that he never made or did not work, and said that almost every day, he sits at his drawing desk and tries to come up with possible scenes for any film he is making. And when he creates an interesting scene, he tries to invent a whole story, to get to that specific scene.

https://issuu.com/dteditore/docs/spidercameron-screen-eng/1?ff

Glen Keane

Glen Keane was born on April 23, 1954, in the city of Philadelphia, United States. Early on, he became interested in art while watching his cartoonist father Bill Keane draw. After finishing high school, he turned down a scholarship to play football and signed up for CalArts- California Institute of Arts.

Keane signed up for the painting program, he wanted to be a visual artist. However, his application was accidentally sent to the animation department, then Film Graphics. The college vetoed him to change course, so he stayed there.

Glen’s passion for painting helped him tremendously in animation, since the first skill an animator must have is knowing how to draw. Do not simply draw, but really know anatomy and how to give the illusion of weight.

His first work was Bernardo and Bianca in the kangaroo land. In the following years Keane worked on other features such as the Hound and the fox, Oliver and his gang , treasure planet, and the list goes on.

But it’s was at the time called the Disney Renaissance that Keane stood out. He animated Ariel the little mermaid, Beast from the beauty and the beast, Aladdin, Pocahontas, Tarzan, and most recently, was Rapunzel (Tangled).

At the time, Keane and the animators, had to use the traditional animation (by using paper), so him and his crew had to plan, all the scenes and poses, by doing storyboards, and later drawing on the paper frame by frame (the frequency to project a film in the cinema is twenty four frames per second, twenty four drawings in total were needed for each second of animation seen on screen).

There is no professional on the animation field, who does not know the name Glen Keane. He is the reference to all of them. What sets him apart, is his passion for his characters. During the production of the animations, Keane understands them and is thus able to perform better.

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