#they’re both violent creatures fueled by anxiety
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I’ve been playing…pizza tower…
(adding a tag I saw that made me burst laughing) “MAMA MIA LIMBO WE’RE REALLY IN IT NOW”
#just because he’s Italian colored doesn’t mean you have to listen to him man…#mine#while drawing this I was like I can just do anything I want ever#save your local dying business with this one easy trick#ah dammit I just noticed I got the hands wrong again (pepinos hands have the thumb on the wrong side rip)#ever since playing I just wanted these two together lol I think they would be friends :)#anxiety ridden middle aged Italian man and …#should I spoil limbo?? ok I will#anxiety ridden middle aged Italian man and anxiety ridden sorcerer (initially)#friends!!! the potential is there#coming back into my own tags to add I think pepino would legitimately summon limbo instead of a berserker#they’re both violent creatures fueled by anxiety
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HI SAM 🤍🤍 can i get a #28 with Ahsoka and Anakin :D
hey nessa!! thanks for the prompt <33
28: "feeling for each other in the dark”
from these prompts (i will still take requests!)
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"Skyguy, I'm not even tired."
"Oh no Snips, I'm not falling for that one." She pouts at him, making sure to use her best pleading gaze, the one that always gets Rex.
"The healer said straight back to the room and then sleep."
"But"-
"No arguing."
"You're never this much of a pain with Master Kenobi when he's hurt."
Her arms cross, eyes rolling dramatically, a common occurrence in Anakin’s presence. Though, the twinge of pain that slices through her is a surprise. Sharp and jolting. She fights to keep it off her face, but Anakin’s quick, concerned frown speaks to her lack of success.
"Yes well, Obi-Wan can take care of himself." She blink doubtfully, unsure if she’s heard the words right. The oxymoron is almost laughable.
Anakin sighs, drawing out the silence between.
"And I may be slightly more scared of him, than I am of you alright?" The words rush out in a long string, and his cheeks flush bright red. Like they do around Senator Amidala.
Ahsoka snorts gleefully, jumping at the chance to taunt him. "It's just Obi."
"Yes well, you were not Obi's padawan for the entirety of your formative adolescence."
Her rebuttal- which was quite good- gets caught in her throat as a yawn overtakes her.
"Come on Snips, bed." Anakin nudges her shoulder gently, careful to avoid the bandages.
She can't find it in herself to argue.
“You need the rest after your ordeal.”
“Running for your life does tend to make one tired.” Just thinking about those creatures makes her skin feel too tight, her heartrate too fast.
She crawls into her bed, aching for comfort. Anakin absent-mindedly pulls the blanket up toward her. Tucking her in.
It’d be a much sweeter gesture if his eyes weren’t glazed, his thoughts seemingly elsewhere.
“Yeah.” There’s something odd laced into the tone, bitter and self-directed.
Ahsoka doesn’t have the energy to pick it apart, to overanalyze it like she usually would. Combing through his sentences for any inkling of the regret she knows he feels for choosing her as a padawan.
She doesn’t need that added to the weight of today.
"I'll be right outside if you need anything."
"Okay.” A condescending laugh puffs from her chest, her thoughts focused on his disinterested stare, “You know, you can stop mothering me."
His lips quirk downward almost too fast for her to notice, but her stomach plummets.
The familiar anxiety is festering, swirling inside her like a storm. It expresses itself, like always, with remarks bordering on too sharp, her tone too blunt to be joking.
This is why he hadn't picked her. She can't do anything right.
"Get some rest Ahsoka." His shoulders are uncharacteristically slumped on his way out, and she can’t let him leave after, well, that.
"I-I'm sorry. I do appreciate you. That was, uncalled, for."
He gives her a half-hearted grin, something only briefly resembling his normal smile. "You've had a long couple of days."
Understatement of the year.
"I get it."
He smirks at her one last time and leaves her to drooping eyes and a lonely room.
- Dark reptilian skin shines like night, darting in and out of her vision. The shrill hunting call echoing through the forest fuels her veins, screaming at her to run faster.
"Kalifa, you have to run!"
Claws drag menacingly against their metallic guns. She has to go, they all have to get out of here-
The speeder hums closer, the trees vibrating with anticipation.
No.
Kalifa, dead, on the jungle floor. Alone, a heap of limbs, lifeless and cold. Her own fault. She’s a failure.
"That one killed my son!" They’re going to find her, they’re going to kill her.
"Ahsoka we have to run!"
She wants to live.
"Ahsoka."
Run.
"Ahsoka!"
- He puts Ahsoka down, hoping she isn’t like him, hoping she actually sleeps.
After the ship had landed, he’d taken her immediately to the med-bay. One look at the dust blanketing her, suffocating her, the wheeze forced in every breath had made him anxious.
He had wanted to kill every one of those things. For touching his padawan. Tear them apart until the monstrosity of his rage, of his love, could be contained.
He can’t be reminded of the days that blur together, spent in limbo, hoping she was alive, needing her to be.
He can’t be reminded of the ever-present nausea that made him think he’d lost his brightest star, the girl so like a little sister to him.
A shriek cuts through his thoughts.
Ahsoka.
He sprints. Not again, never again-
She's writhing uncontrollably in the small bed, whimpering. Hands fly at him in the dark, warding off an unseen foe. He catches them gently, running his thumbs along the tops. "Ahsoka!"
She keeps thrashing, and a part of Anakin aches. Never before has she seemed so young.
The faint tear tracks etched on her face, mark their way into new grooves on his heart.
"Hey, hey." She relaxes, blinking warily.
"It's okay. I'm here." Her eyes flit between his, frantic in their effort to find anchorage. He smiles softly, attempting to soothe her worry.
He thinks about leaving her, letting her deal with this alone. Anakin remembers a master’s gaze becoming stifling, judgmental. He doesn’t want to overwhelm her so soon after the ordeal, mother her too much.
And then he remembers the boy from Tatooine who only craved affection. Who wished for any semblance of love from a master so dedicated to the order.
He stays.
The decision in his eyes calms her. He tries to radiate stability, assuredness, but well, its never been his strength.
She swallows heavily before leaning her head against his shoulder. Gentle and timid.
The weight of the space between them is heavy, cumbersome. She breaks it audaciously, his padawan to the bone, shattering the stillness with soft truth.
“I still think they’re after me.” If only he had arrived sooner, been a better master-
“It”- she flails a bit, “It feels so real still.”
There are no words to erase the demons, the guttural haunting. He knows how it can linger, the eternal shadow lingering. He offers the only comfort he’s ever known. Shares his own burden to ease her mind.
“I had nightmares about Maul for months after Naboo.”
“Really?” Wide eyes glint in the dark.
“Yeah.”
She snuggles closer into his side. Her warm presence soothes something in his chest. Returns a piece of himself, one he didn’t know was missing.
“It’s just so much sometimes.” He pauses letting her find the words herself.
“The war, the fighting, even the Jedi stuff.” At his glance, she backtracks.
“Sorry Master. Not you of course. I didn’t mean to overstep.” He cuts her off before she can retreat.
“No, Ahsoka. I understand. More than you know.”
He struggles to reconcile the peacemakers of the fabled stories to the soldiers of now. The gravity of their choices, the violent narrative they’ve prescribed to. Harsh honesty bites from his mouth, unfettered from the Council’s bias.
“They should not be sending children to war.”
Ahsoka huffs out a quick breath. She squeezes his arm, “You’re not that old yourself.”
“Better me than someone else.”
Her hum of disagreement fills the room, but they say no more. The silence is comfortable.
“I-I’m glad we ended up together Snips.” A soft snore interrupts him, and he looks down.
She's dead asleep. Head conked out against his shoulder, mouth open slightly, it's adorable and endearing and wholesome and he wants to bottle this moment for forever.
He lays her softly back in the bed. The faint growl emerging from her at the repositioning making him smirk.
He places a chaste kiss to the crown of her montrals. A reminder that they are both safe, both here.
"Sleep well Snips."
#snips and skyguy!!!#i love them#also i like the early insecurities hee hee#finally finished all my tests so i have TIME NOW#WOOHOO#hence the writing#nessa tag!#my fic#prompt fill
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I mean in Leonardo's route he mentions Comte used to be a smoker! AND, it's heavily implied Comte used to be a wild child so!
Comte spoilers below, please don’t open if you’d prefer to wait to find out! I know I’m 100% feral for Comte but I don’t want to diminish anyone else’s experience~
Yes, there are indications that he once engaged in smoking, and was implied to be even worse than Leonardo (a chainsmoker of epic proportions, so to speak). As for whether or not Comte was a wild child, I have no way to confirm that with the current information that Cybird has provided, but there are heavy allusions to him going off the rails (at least for a vampire of noble blood). There are several mentions–if I recall correctly he states it himself–that he’s been running from his legacy for a very long time, and only recently settled down and took up the full weight of his aristocratic title. Unfortunately we don’t know much more than that. But I wouldn’t be surprised, he wandered quite a bit around Europe before turning the men of the mansion. In the few glimpses into his backstory we receive there is also plenty of fuel for a so-called teenage or adolescent vampire rebellious phase. Both he and Leonardo have a profound compassion for other people/creatures, and vehemently reject the social hierarchy/power dynamics that other purebloods seem to want to enforce.
Among the few scenes I have seen that can testify to his more wild behavior is an event that is likely headed to the english app very soon. There was a story event that featured the suitors–as a pair–enjoying a drink and often reminiscing about the past. Comte and Leonardo are seated at a bar, and they’re drinking their own weight in alcohol and bewildering nearby patrons. Leonardo asks if Comte remembers when it was that they became good friends, and Comte is all “I have no idea what you’re talking abt MORE BOURBON.” Spoilers: he likely knows, or at least has an inkling, and doesn’t want to remember his own punk ass going feral. Anywho, Leonardo goes into it anyway, and describes a situation in which he and Comte attended some kind of social event. Upon exiting the venue, they see/hear a young woman being assaulted in an alley by several men. Now, Leonardo is already cracking his knuckles, excited to unleash a can of whoop ass–but Comte actually beats him to it. He goes stone cold and starts knocking out the people hurting her, asking them how they like being on the receiving end of violence. He then gingerly lifts the young lady and asks Leonardo to get the carriage, since it’s raining out and he would hate for her to catch a cold. This is the moment in which Leonardo learns that–for all of Comte’s adherence to his noble title’s customs–all of that ceases to matter when somebody is in need of his help. And that’s why they became friends; because all of Comte’s money, all of his prestige and social recognition doesn’t mean shit to him. He would give it up in seconds if it meant doing the right thing. His principles and his convictions outweigh any of his perceived materiality, no matter how he conducts himself or seems to others.
One of the greater issues Comte seems to struggle with–and could very possibly have been the reason he distanced himself from his own family–is the way that vampires drop humans like flies. Even if they aren’t engaging in a predatory relationship, in some ways humans are deemed expendable regardless. He had the privilege of being born into a family that treats human beings with respect and perhaps even affection, but every single one of his teachers, caretakers, and the servants in the house he grew up with were fired long before he became an adult. But he was just old enough to understand why they left, and it crushed him. Getting too close was deemed dangerous, for both parties; it would hurt the purebloods more to leave somebody they were attached too, and the humans in their employ would grow suspicious/fearful, perhaps even violent, if they noticed that they didn’t age. But like Leonardo, Comte loves the company of all kinds of people, and to be forced to cut ties for the sake of his own emotional and physical health was shattering for him (death is impossible as far as we know, but that doesn’t make vampires impervious to pain).
I think he spent a very long time rejecting that mindset, until he started to live life on his own and saw how difficult it was. To love people fully, and watch their lives end what felt like hours later. Over and over and over again. Four hundred years is a long time to love and lose people, and while it can be easy to believe that all grieving really requires is letting go, such a thing is much easier said than done. Leonardo wrestles with it just as much as Comte does; the only reason Comte fairs a little better is because he exercises considerable restraint. He’s been burned before, and he’s edging the flames more carefully now. Even so, we see several moments in which this self-control collapses; he will never stand in the way of MC’s happiness with someone else–but the attraction is always simmering beneath the surface, never fully realized. Literally the entire crux of his own route is that he’s trying, trying desperately not to just move where is heart is taking him, but failing anyway because MC has the courage to meet him halfway–wants to meet him halfway, despite their differences.
One of the hardest things Comte is probably forced to contend with is that, no matter how vehemently he feels that his family was wrong, life proves that in some regards they were right. It is extremely difficult to engage in the kind of life they live without a modicum of self-restraint, or at the very some kind of healthy grieving process. Eternity isn’t going to wait for them to feel better, life isn’t going to stop taking the people they love just because they were born under different circumstances, or are another species altogether. Life doesn’t have any mercy, in that regard, and so they must be merciful and understanding with themselves. In the course of his lifetime he’s forgotten how to be gentle with himself, and he’s forgotten how to look forward to each day to come. For better or worse, his answer to the pain of forever was to shut himself down as swiftly and powerfully as he could to stop the growing whirpool of poorly resolved grief, or perhaps better described as melancholia. He was able to survive the first downspiral, but that doesn’t mean he’s confident he’ll survive another. And survival doesn’t necessarily entail living well, it means doing what you must to forge on–no matter how much it hurts.
(I will say that I can clarify what I mean by the specific term melancholia, because I don’t mean it in the colloquial sense. But I’ll give the disclaimer here for the sake of sparing everyone a technical argument they might not care about lol keep reading after the dashes for the conclusion)
—
Essentially, Freud contends that people process grief in two distinct ways, as I will loosely summarize. Mourning is the reaction to some kind of loss (whether a person, a concept, an opportunity, etc.) that inspires a short-term level of discomfort and unhappiness. Most people heal on their own over time, and it’s something that most people have experienced before. Melancholia, on the other hand, is more or less mourning that has never ended. It is described as a prolonged state of dejection in which all the color in life has dissolved and left, in which one’s self-regard often diminishes (not usually a side effect of mourning, but specific to melancholia) and they lose their will to go on slowly but surely.
In Comte’s route he literally says that MC eases the void in his heart, makes him look forward to every single day; that “his time” starts moving again. That the reason he reciprocated her feelings at all instead of stifling them was because he just fell into the comfort and joy of her presence, couldn’t help himself in wanting to see and talk to her. He describes her love as an irresistible “magic,” something with the capacity to transfigure the fragments of his experience into a de facto life.
Sound familiar?
—
And that’s the whole point, that’s what we as the player are here to do. We’re supposed to help him find the magic in the little things again, hope for better again. Make it so that when he does open his heart and lets himself feel freely again, anguish isn’t the only thing that finds him. We’re supposed to help him stop living in the hellscape of anxiety that he’s been forcing into silence, a depression so wide and deep it’s a wonder he never went mad.
So uh, this kind of became ridiculously meta, but that’s why I love Comte? And that’s as much as I know about him, as of now. Hoping for more details in the jpn app in the future! I know I got a little sidetracked, do forgive me–I get really in it when I discuss Comte LOL
#ikevamp#ikemen vampire#ikevamp spoilers#ikevamp comte#ikevamp saint germain#ikevamp meta#not incorrect quotes#rambles#good lord idk what is with me this week i cant use two brain cells without showing up with a thesis#if any of yall find the energy to read through this bless#i promise i will be back with those heady memes soon#quarantine deadass be like: room for self-improvement??? fuck no we obsess over 2d men instead#anyhoot that's my five cents on that topic and what i've learned from the rt#comte propaganda#i literally cannot breathe without thinking about my love for him#well-played monsieur
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DANIEL ISN’T REAL... but I’m so very glad this film exists.
After dealing with increasing anxiety and fearing a grip on reality, a college freshman turns to his childhood imaginary friend for comfort and confidence boosting… only to realize that his much cooler and carefree pretend buddy has an unsettling violent darkness about him. Could Daniel possibly be something more than a figment of his imagination?
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DANIEL ISN’T REAL is an utterly surreal fever dream, channeling the best in cosmic horror, body horror, and psychological horror while also taking a bold look at deeper issues. It comes from Elijah Wood’s SpectreVision imprint, the same company that gave us such gems as MANDY, A GIRL WALKS HOME ALONE AT NIGHT, and COLOR OUT OF SPACE... and this one’s right up there with those modern classics. And you can watch it now on SHUDDER!
Full review and some seriously kickass poster art below:
Directed by Adam Egypt Mortimer (and based on Brian DeLeeuw’s book, In This Way I Was Saved), DANIEL ISN’T REAL is a wonderfully fantastical ride through fucked up subject matter. It tackles mental illness, trauma, dual nature, identity, male toxicity, and empathy… with a good amount of Lovecraftian madness and trippy, yet terrifically disgusting Cronenberg-esque visuals thrown in for good measure.
It’s an engaging story too, about a young man, Luke, overwhelmed with life as his mother’s mental health condition worsens. He’s dealing with that on top of everything else college kids go through, lack of confidence, anxiety, etc. There’s also a fear of his own sanity. He keeps hallucinating and blanking out. His therapist suggests that maybe he should try to tap into that creativity he had as a child, where he’d regularly play for hours on end with his imaginary friend, “Daniel”. Only things got very weird and unsettling the last time he played pretend with his fictional playmate.
Once Daniel re-enters his life, things start to change. Luke’s mother issues get better. Luke suddenly feels more confident in life. Luke is finally doing well with girls. Luke’s getting creative again with photography... and all of his problems seem to go away… Only Daniel seems to want more credit and recognition. And Daniel seems to be getting angrier. And that’s when things get really fucking messed up.
This film is wonderfully acted by a mix of up-and-comers and veterans of the scene. Luke is played by Miles Robbins (HALLOWEEN 2018) and gives that immediate likeable and kind, yet also meek, portrayal that perfectly conveys what kind of a person that Luke is. There’s a lot of range in emotion in this performance, from hurt and confused to confident, to something else entirely. I always get a kick at seeing an actor completely flip their performance and style midway and totally embody something else, and this film has that and more.
Contrasting that likability and meekness is Daniel (played by Patrick Schwarzenegger, SCREAM QUEENS), the titular imaginary friend who’s pure Freudian Id. He’s cool, slick, charismatic, and always knows the right thing that Luke should say, or do, to get ahead. He’s helpful… when he wants to be… but he also has a lot of darkness. A scary darkness that seems to stem from… something else. Patrick excels when he taps into this dark alias. He’s evil as fuck. There’s a sinister glee in his manner. Epitome of “Chaotic Evil”. He’s such a great asshole. He really kicks it into gear when the audience fully know what we’re dealing with…
Yet even then, nothing is over explained. And that’s the beauty of this film. There is no expository dialogue or wasted scene. Everything is laid out there and the actors just bring it. This film lives in a world of it’s own and the audience is a passenger for the unholy ride. It’s a very slick flick full of world building and the kind of outstanding performances that really make everything shine.
Rounding out the supporting cast is Luke’s troubled mother (veteran Mary Stuart Masterson, who powerfully played a similar and memorable role in BENNY & JUNE), Sasha Lane (HELLBOY) as the love interest, artist, and really, the heart and soul of the film, and Hannah Marks (DIRK GENTLY) as the other girl faced with Luke’s dark side. again, all perfectly played and perfectly cast, giving a much needed balance in this heavy film.
And it’s a very heavy film. The story was a deeply personal one for Mortimer (as he explained to us in 2019, when he brought the film to the Montreal FANTASIA film fest). The director drew from his own experiences from his youth, when a friend was similarly dealing with mental health issues. Mortimer had to help him, because his friend was “falling off the rails”, with no one around really helping him out, “not friends or professionals”. He talked of his friend’s life being in ruins, and how it just “spiraled off into mania”.
That experience deeply impacted Mortimer. It was from this that Mortimer wanted to make a film about empathy and compassion for people going through severe mental illness issues. While Luke’s troubles stem from something more, the parallels are still there to people in real life going through non-otherworldy issues. The overall sense of helplessness, and a desire to be understood and taken seriously, is still there, and still a universal theme. Especially right now.
This film also tackles a lot more than just matters of wellness. Mortimer also wanted the film to deal with the “increasing danger” young men are in these days. “The Dangers they face and the danger many are to themselves”.
Mortimer talked about them, “Living in a world where men have been driven insane by society. A society where many men are both the product and the villain of it.” A lot of this is seen on film when Luke battles for control with Daniel. Daniel representing that alpha and that Id. Luke grasping for control and trying to be that voice of compassion and reason. It’s a wonderful character study that is only heightened by the horror elements that come into play.
And yes, it’s an absolute horror fan’s delight and it’s visually stunning to boot, mixing psychological & psychedelic horror together. It felt like I was watching HELLRAISER again for the first time, but if that film was shoved in a blender with FIGHT CLUB, JACOB’S LADDER, and copious amounts of mind altering drugs. But comparing it to anything else does no justice to the wholly original eye-gasmic feast set before us. I keep saying this, but it truly is an utterly wonderful surreal fever dream. It’s so very layered and out there.
It’s refreshing to see new films like this come about with something to say and looking as great as it does. Yes, this film looks very different from most things that are currently out there, with it’s violet texture throughout, and otherworldly feel. Mortimer, who came from a music video background, wanted his second feature to have a distinct look to it, saying that the “violet hue throughout had a very futuristic and contemporary colour about it”. He wanted to create the feeling of a manic episode, and overwhelm the viewer with colours and density.
And he totally does. It’s such a beautiful looking film, and one you’ll definitely go back to just to soak in the wonderful hypnotic visuals. Much like MANDY, from the year before, DANIEL is a cinematic treat for your eyeballs.
And there’s also some deeply messed up visuals that mix in with that beauty. The FX on a whole are amazingly bizarre. There are visuals that are so jaw-droppingly good that you’ll permanently have them etched in your brain. It’s the kind of film where you’re watching and you immediately want to rewind and see that scene again.
From faces being merged into each other in a pink tentacled mess of VIDEODROME-esque flesh, to other visages literally being mangled like putty! Pure body terror. People crawling into other people’s mouths– I could go on, but I don’t want to spoil it. It’s icky and wonderful all at once.
And I can’t go on about the FX without mentioning the nightmarish and hellish creature design by Martin Astles (who also worked on the brutal and classic nightmare fuel that is EVENT HORIZON). The creature FX are so fucking out there, each very distinct and very memorable. The kind of things that if you confronted them in real life you’d be quick to claw them out your own eyes.
One beast looks like a hellish death beast with a fleshy castle for a head-- an absolute architectural artifice. Mortimer said they attempted to convey that a whole universe was in its face, and it existed outside space and time. Another Face looking like piercing bullets poking through the flesh and protruding from his cheeks, like a moment frozen in time. They’re all so freakishly creative and disturbing. I can’t even describe them right. I’m not sure I want to, but they’re seared into my mind. Body Horror and Cosmic Horror at their best.
In addition to the visuals, this film also brings it on the sound design and score front. It’s got an incredible score by Warp Records act Clark. It contains synthy goodness along with manipulations of actual orchestral pieces. And it was Clark’s first time working on a film score, something Mortimer preferred.
He wanted someone that wasn’t used to working on horror films, or films in general, so they’d throw everything they had into it from the get go. Mortimer told Clark to make it sound like Bernard Herrmann got stuck in some horrible industrial accident. A relentless sonic assault that tries to capture that same feel that Clint Mansell did with REQUIEM FOR A DREAM. The results are a superb original work of music that completely enhances and already spectacular looking film.
I was a fan of Mortimer’s SOME KIND OF HATE when I caught it six years ago at FANTASIA FEST, but DANIEL is an entirely different beast and next level filmmaking. He’s easily grown as a filmmaker and I’m totally on board to see more. I can’t wait to see what he tackles next, because DANIEL was easily one of my top Fantasia picks for 2019.
DANIEL ISN’T REAL is one of those dark films that will most likely be seen as a cult classic in a few years, right up there with DONNIE DARKO and movies of a similar ilk. It’s full of so much imagination and gusto, all while tackling important issues and core themes. All that and it remains highly watchable and engaging. It’ll satisfy any horror junkie while also winning over fans of thought provoking art. Daniel isn’t real, but I’m glad it exists.
-Theo Radomski, Movies Rot Brains
Seriously how fucking awesome are these posters? Why can’t more horror films hire the people that made these posters? Why can’t film in general hire these people to make better promo art?
This article was previously seen on Mobtreal.com
#daniel isn't real#horror#horror movies#shudder#adan egypt mortimer#fever dream#surreal#film review#movies rot brains#horror films#body horror#psychological horror#thrillers#cronenberg#clark#bernard herrmann#lovecraftian#horror reviews#moviesrotbrains#reviews#great poster art#film posters#horror posters
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Facing Our Making, Part 3: Makeup and Gender
Welcome to Part 3 of my makeup blog series! This week we’re going to poke at gender and makeup. But before I begin, let’s review parts 1 & 2, and check in about where we’re at:
1. Beauty standards are impossibly harsh and cause a lot of unnecessary pain.
2. Let womxn decide what they want to do with their own damn bodies and stay out of it. Unless they hire you for a consultation.
3. Wearing makeup is awesome
4. Not wearing makeup is awesome
5. Your gender presentation and basically any presentation of your body and behavior do not determine who you are and aren’t attracted to sexually. And no one is the (*^*^%^$#%$#&*&^&%% authority to determine that for you. If they try, remember that they’re judging and labeling you in relation to their own internal gender/sexuality struggles. More on this in today’s blog below.
6. How toxic masculinity ruins the day in relationship to makeup or not makeup needs to die, and YES womxn also support and host this behavior (internalized misogyny). Just because a person has a vagina or presents as femme does not mean they are exempt.
7. Womxn who wear makeup are not whores unless they are, in fact, professional whores. Professional whores keep the world turning, and bless em for it. The problem isn’t sex work. It’s violence against sex workers. Consider your complicity.
8. Womxn are reclaiming the hell out of the word “Slut”, so don’t get caught being a dumb idiot who uses the outdated, violent, misogynist definition. 1000 years vagina dentata upon your entire household.
9. If you want sexual attention because you enjoy sex, then FUCK YEAH GIT IT!!!
10. “Pretty girls are dumb” is a myth that our society desperately seeks to nurture and maintain. This is rooted in dominance, power, control, and whorephobia. Stop it.
11. “Ugly girls are smart” makes no damn sense. Okay, yes I can see the backwards logic, but also if you listen to flat-earthers long enough you could even be like, “ok, I see where you’re coming from with that”.
It is not lost on me that certain beauty trends and habits can trigger and enable body image problems, ranging in severity. After attending a panel discussion that featured a speaker from Media Girls Boston, I learned that girls as young as 9 are learning that they essentially need to brand themselves through social media so that they can merely exist. Saying this is a problem is an understatement.
I support makeup and rituals of adornment. I support a lot of things that, if used improperly with dangerous motivations, can result in severe consequences.
Understand that there’s a lot of nuance in subjects like this, and utilize your critical thinking brain when exploring such topics. Continue your personal research if you’re curious about any subcategory in this series that I have not addressed.
If issues of beauty standards and pressure are uncomfortable or triggering for you, or if you or a loved one believe they may be suffering from a body-image related disorder, please know you are not alone, and there are people out there who are ready and available to support you through this. Links and hotline numbers are available in the resource section at the end of this blog. -------------------------------------------------------------
“If we are all members of one body, then in that one body there is neither male nor female; or rather there is both: it is an androgynous or hermaphroditic body, containing both sexes [...] The division of the one man into two sexes is part of [our] fall.” --Norman O. Brown, in Love’s Body, 1966
Okay! Let’s talk about this super important element of the art and ritual of beauty:
Gender!
To Marie Kondo this: This subject does not bring me joy, and I do not want to write about it, but I feel that I have a responsibility to not play floor-is-lava about it. It does not even bring me the type of righteous rage that fuels me to furiously complete a post. It fills me with doubt, insecurity, self loathing, trust issues, and a desire to disappear.
I need to say this because I know I am not alone in my feelings and experience. But I will keep it very brief because I’d like to move on.
I have experienced a lifetime of pain from the bullshit pressure the heteropatriarchy puts on female bodies. I never anticipated the heartache I would experience as a result of being judged and denied by fellow queers.
I am too butch, too unfeminine to be accepted as the right kind of woman in heteropatriarchal society. I make men question their sexuality, and I am the one made to suffer for it. I am too feminine for queers to believe and accept me when I tell them I’m genderfluid (which I have been, quietly and privately, my entire life). I am not feminine enough to be femme.
Too much woman. Not enough woman. Not woman. Not human. Once again, my body and my soul are everyone else’s to judge, determine, and own. Not mine.
And no one wants to listen when we say the world hates women.
I highly suggest looking up the toxic concept of femme invisibility in queer communities. You can start by reading this great article by Bust:
https://www.bustle.com/articles/166081-what-does-femme-mean-the-difference-between-being-femme-being-feminine.
For the record, I still use she/her pronouns. I stand by my allegiance to the fullness and diversity of womxnhood in a deeply ferocious way. My reasoning for that is both very simple and very complicated. So I guess that just makes it very complicated. Ask me how.
Mood.
Anyway, makeup.
About a month ago, I had wrapped a film shoot with some friends who flew up from Mexico. It was an incredible weekend that filled me up with so much bliss. On the drive back to Boston, I was chatting with my beloved friends and fellow Scarlet Tongue artists, Creature and Cass, about how much I enjoy the company of Mexican men. A large part of that is because it is refreshing to be around men who so easily embrace and express feminine qualities of articulating their emotions, accessing their emotions, gentleness and nurturing. Creature presented the important argument that such qualities don’t need to be classified as feminine or masculine; they’re simply personality and behavioral traits that anybody can have.
Such a point is absolutely crucial in untangling the oppressive nature of the gender binary.
Exercise:
The following traits have been classically designated as “masculine” or “feminine�� behavior, but I’ve jumbled them together in the list below. Which traits do you believe belong to whom?
Reserved Warm Sensitive Utilitarian Deferential Apprehensive Reactive Emotionally Stable Serious Lively Socially bold Shy Rule-conscious Expedient Private Perfectionism Anxiety Group-oriented Self-reliant Tolerates disorder Vigilance Extraversion Traditional Grounded Agreeableness Neuroticism Excitement-seeking Attraction to aesthetics
Answer:
Hahahahah, I’m not going to give you the answer. It doesn’t matter.
Yes, hormones do impact some behavior. And YES, how we’re socially conditioned impacts which traits are more dominant. But the point is, there is an imaginary line between the two categories. The saddest reality is that, even though any human is capable of any of these traits on the list, society has determined that consequence and punishment must befall anyone who strays from their category. An enforced gender binary is dangerous.
Enter makeup.
Makeup has served infinite purposes throughout the course of history. It’s an incredible vehicle for expression, as well as radical social and political rebellion. Makeup has shaped entire movements of art, social justice, philosophy, and construction/deconstruction of body politics.
Your lipstick is more than patriarchal pigment in a tube. It is a tool for revolution.
Most people assume that makeup is only for clowns and cisgender women, and anyone else who uses it is simply a deviant who has “stolen” it.
Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Nononononononono
This probably won’t come as a shock to most of you, but yes-- Christianity also temporarily ruined makeup. Once upon a time, it was quite normal for men to wear makeup. Then the Jesus toe-suckers made up a whole bunch of arbitrary rules about what we currently observe masculinity and femininity to be, and here we are in this stinky pile of crap rules.
I highly recommend reading this article to learn a tiny bit more of the history of men and makeup:
https://www.byrdie.com/history-makeup-gender
Who wears makeup and how people wear makeup has shifted so much throughout history, and the struggles we experience around this today have only been relevant for a hundred years or so. One of the most common forms of rebellion we hear of is when women reject traditional femininity. Whether “burning our bras”, shaving our heads, or growing out our armpit hair, this is not an uncommon experience for a lot of women. The scandal!! The pet has escaped her cage!! So many women I know have experienced an anti-femininity phase at least once in their lives. Sometimes this “phase” transitions into a permanent rejection of gender norms, but it really varies from person to person. Often it’s set off by an overwhelming awareness of how much women are defined by superficial characteristics, traditionally determined and enforced by men. So we attempt to take ourselves out of the system by wearing neutral and aggressive clothing, switching up which parts of our bodies are hairy and which aren’t, and avoiding anything “girlie”. Revisiting my conversation with Aepril, my high-glam friend who inspired this blog and was mentioned in Part 1, she made a good point about honoring such an experience: “I went through a miserable phase in my feminist youth where I thought I was being uber feminist by not shaving or wearing makeup or wearing heels, etc, because to do so was giving into the patriarchy. I was miserable of course. It took my drag queen friends to wake me up to that, as I realized that they were willing to give up family, social status...their safety and even their lives for the privilege of expressing themselves in a glamorous, feminine way. While I had that privilege because I was born in a female body. I might be criticised by both men and women, but I wouldn’t be beaten in the street for transgressing gender roles. I realized how much it meant to me through seeing how much it meant to them. Why should I give that up either? Why should anyone have to?” In Aepril’s situation, she found that her place of authenticity was through femininity. In a world that is so divided between the shoulds and should-nots of who we’re supposed to be, I find it important to squeeze ourselves through and experience all sides so we can settle on what’s true for us. Then it’s no longer conformity; it’s an outlet.
In the 20th and 21st centuries, the use of makeup norms has been subverted to amplify voices that demand human rights and fair treatment. Its application has been largely linked to LGBTQ+ visibility and gay rights movements. The anti-Vietnam movement in the late 60s and 70s utilized makeup to display over-feminization and homosexuality as a way to avoid being drafted. The glam rock movement gave us icons like David Bowie, exposing and exploding restrictive gender norms through outrageous clothing and makeup, utilizing pop culture to spread ideas and acceptance of androgyny. “Female impersonation” has origins dating back to the 19th century in Europe, and the art of Drag Queens & Kings is alive and well today, celebrating, mocking, questioning, and expanding gender in clubs and theaters, in film, and right in our homes through TV favorites like Ru Paul’s Drag Race.
For our trans-sisters, the decision to wear makeup could have life or death consequences. As a transwoman friend of mine disclosed a few months back, when she’s walking down the street and hears a man call after her, her immediate thoughts turn to, “will I experience violence because I’m a woman? Or will I experience violence because he thinks I’m a faggot?” There is a lot of discussion in the trans community about the privilege of “passing”, and I believe these conversations have further supported the struggles womxn generally face-- does wearing makeup make you more or less of a woman? As writer Lux Alptraum points out, “the idea that external appearance is what makes someone a “real” woman is the very thing that many trans women have committed themselves to fighting. To the extent that makeup is an essential part of any trans woman’s gender identity or notion of her womanhood, it’s largely because that’s the message the rest of the world aggressively forces upon her.” Read the rest of this article at https://www.racked.com/2017/3/23/14937266/trans-women-makeup
Makeup is incredibly powerful. It can be used for protest, and it can be used for comfort. It’s daily wear, and it’s political. It’s an expression of freedom, and a bold face confronting restriction. It’s transformative, giving people the opportunity to live in the bodies and images that feel right and true for them. Makeup is art, an embracing of life and physicality, a way to show up, be counted, and be present. It’s an act of defiance, and an act of love.
I recently read that Facebook now has 56 gender identities one can choose from. Facebook blows, but wow that’s actually really awesome! Within that list, some of the more frequently used terms include:
Agender/Neutrois Androgyne/Androgynous Bigender Cis/Cisgender Female to Male/FTM Gender Fluid Gender Nonconforming/Variant Gender Questioning Genderqueer Intersex Male to Female/MTF Neither Non-binary Other Pangender Trans/Transgender Transsexual Two-spirit (Important: this is Native American. Don’t pull a Jason Mraz. Don’t appropriate)
Out of this list, the following folks are allowed to wear makeup:
All of them Everyone Anyone Everybody The General Public The Whole World Human Beings Aliens Animals but only if they’re actually humans in animal costumes
If you’re interested in following makeup artists on IG who are trans or gender non-conforming, here is a great starter list (partially sourced from wearyourvoicemag.com):
@ brownbeautystandards @ vlad_theunicorn @ jade_poncee @ makeupby_bran @ rosalynnemontoya @ miles_jai @ completedestruction
Again, there are infinite reasons why people of any gender do and don’t wear makeup, and I’m not going to be an authority on the matter. But I hope some of this information helps you on your journey to understand yourself better, and hold space of greater allyship and tolerance for others.
Below are some links and phone numbers if you feel you need greater support for the topics being discussed in this blog series. Being beautiful is cool, and so is being safe. You deserve to be here, and you matter.
Enjoy your week, and we’ll see you back here next week for Part 4: Performance Artists and Makeup!
National Eating Disorders 24 hr Hotline: 1-800-931-2237
https://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/body-image-0
TransLifeline Hotline: 877-565-8860
https://www.translifeline.org/
LGBT National Hotline: 1-888-843-4564
https://www.glbthotline.org/
National Suicide Prevention 24hr Hotline: 1-800-273-8255
http://sexworkersproject.org/resources/
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SUNMI - SIREN
[6.00]
Pound the alarm...
Ryo Miyauchi: Coming from "Gashina," with one inert drop as a hook to Sunmi's break-up-driven vengeance, the chorus of "Siren" redeems what could've been by leaning deeply into her thrilling relationship drama. Not only does the galloping electro bass line add a feeling of acceleration missing from the blown-up chorus of "Heroine," it intensifies the sense of collapse as if she must rush to the finish or else she will be caved in the emotional rubble. It provides enough power to outshine the other parts: her "it's not you, it's me" story in the verses isn't very essential, and the breakdown ends up stunting the momentum. Everything else just takes time away from its beating chorus. [6]
Lilly Gray: Sunmi is hitting that Amazon (Wonder Woman, not Jeff Bezos) stride in this release, as her two previous songs we've covered here seem along the same lines: the world is a ridiculous no-win setup for women, so why not stomp right through it? Kiss the boys and make them cry. Or bleed. I like Sunmi's theatrical, lawless woman, but I do not like that drop at around the 2:40 mark. If you're supposed to take off one accessory before leaving the house, that rule should apply to decorative, jarring, rap-or-otherwise breaks. It reminds me of 4Minute's "Mirror, Mirror," actually, and even the great "Get away out of my face" sounds like, had that group made it to 2018, something they would have belted. [7]
Stephen Eisermann: Perfectly crafted moody power-pop is always welcome. Sunmi's detached tone matches the angsty pop production and that chorus is pop perfection. All of it makes me want to dance in front of my mirror into a hair brush. [7]
Alfred Soto: A frantic, freestyle-indebted study in dance floor hysteria, and it doesn't scream "pastiche." [7]
Anna Suiter: Siren has the same issue that both of Sunmi's recent singles have had-- they're carried nearly entirely by a piece of the chorus. There's always that one thing in her songs that makes it stick enough to feel like it's good, but there's really nothing beyond that. Siren has that mixed metaphor, between the mythological creature and the alarm, but wordplay can't save everything. Although that fuzzy breakdown is kind of fun, it ends up blending in with almost everything else. Besides the hook, of course. [4]
Maxwell Cavaseno: The K-pop industry is as flush as it needs to be as Sunmi keeps them afloat with a continuous output of saccharine dance records that lack enough character or melody to sustain themselves but does wonders as wicked fuel for 7/10 music videos. Between the obnoxiously overwrought "Gashina" or the dull escapades of "Heroine," Sunmi's reign for the last year or so makes me feel like a lot of writers just want thinkpieces or just really hate to think that Wonder Girls weren't interesting and that the years of being beaten over the head by JYP's Spectorian Oneness With God Propaganda was a period of their lives they wasted and cannot get back (saying this as someone who would like to see his life violently shortened in a method involving jumper cables after subjecting me to Twice's "BDZ," so I don't fault you for the denial). "Siren" is nothing but a bunch of attempts to grate mistaken for earworms, a true mark of naked cynicism in this so-called turn into arty maturity, and another chapter in a truly ghastly solo career. [3]
Julian de Valliere: It's hard to discern if "Siren" is about accepting the ugliest parts of yourself or just finally giving into them, but underneath the bravado of Sunmi's performance lives an uneasiness that suggests neither decision is sitting quite right. These little wobbles reveal themselves when Sunmi actually doubles down on her role as the villain -- betraying a not-completely natural determination to excel (and revel) in her newly designated title. It comes across as method acting, with Sunmi finding increasingly theatrical ways to exude what she believes to be inherent. Ultimately, her growing frustration at her inability to fully own the self-destructive patterns governing her life only fuels more negative energy towards a song that thrives off it -- but for a track that wants nothing more than to be Bad, it's amazing that half its potency comes from the idea that its harshness stems from a place of helplessness as well. [8]
Joshua Minsoo Kim: "Get away, out of my face, don't come any closer" roars the chorus. It contains the piercing ferocity that characterized the lyrics in Sunmi's "Gashina," but it's shortly followed by dramatic vocalizing that recalls the heartache of "Heroine." On the former, she delivered a fiery kiss-off that found her standing tall amidst a disheartening breakup. The latter was billed as a prequel to "Gashina" and found Sunmi pleading to remain at the hands of her abuser. With the release of "Siren" -- a precursor to that -- the entire trilogy finally reveals itself to be a searing indictment on the patriarchal ideologies that shape how women grapple with identity, self-love, and relationships. You see, the chorus here may sound like another courageous declaration, but it's underpinned by a creeping anxiety. The verses find Sunmi announcing that she only causes harm, and how this potential lover would be best off avoiding her. "I'll hurt you, the beautiful me of your fantasies doesn't exist" she sings, and the "can't you see that boy?" line proves to be a question birthed from similar fears and insecurities. She believes that she's lesser, that she's bad at love -- how could she possibly live up to someone else's romantic expectations? When she proclaims that she won't cry despite feeling sad, it's less an empowering moment of resilience than a submission to what the world has taught her to be: an always-quiet, always-compliant vessel of love. For those not privy to how defeated that line actually is, a plaintive synth melody traces her voice: a soft acknowledgement that her pain is heard. Despite the English title, "Heroine" found Sunmi assigning the man the role of the hero. It's obvious now, though, that there was no discrepancy between the lyrics and the seemingly contradictory title. "Do whatever you want, even if you're mean" she sang. For such "virtuous" persistence she receives her lone accolade. Naturally, it's one that applauds her powerlessness. With the closing of this trilogy, "Siren" brands Sunmi with one final name, one tell-all descriptor that describes the whole of her existence. For a mythological creature known for its beauty and terror, one can imagine Sunmi's lover reducing her to such qualities on "Heroine" and "Gashina" respectively. On "Siren," it's her turn to believe it. Never is it more profoundly distressing than on the song's ugly bridge, an unexpected breakdown whose clumsy, booming low end stands in stark contrast to the song's more dignified synth pulses. Here, she sounds caustic and stripped of all warmth: grotesquely non-human. If this is what the world tells her to be, it's what she'll become. Don't say she didn't warn you. [8]
Alex Clifton: Sirens, both the mermaid and ambulance kind, should be memorable; sadly this one is not. [4]
[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]
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