#white noise 2022

[celine-song]

White Noise (2022) dir. Noah Baumbach

[mediademon]

WHITE NOISE (2022) dir. Noah Baumbach

"I love you. I just fear death more than I love you, and I really really love you."

[shesjustanothergeek]

Living In The Moment

|Jack Gladney x Fem!Reader|

Short story

Summary: You've finally made it to your senior year at "The-College-On-The-Hill", and with the thought of your extremely high tuition cost, you decide to take a job on campus assisting an older professor named Jack Gladney.

Warnings: Age difference, daddy kink, slight age play, mentions of mutual masturbation, grandpa Jack steals your panties, unprotected sex, creampie, reader is on birth control, Jack has a cock the size of a soda can, GILF, beer belly, cunnilingus, fingering, innocence kink if you squint, professor-student relationship.

Author's Note: Hello, everyone! I noticed there was a surprising lack of Jack content out here and was not having it. Like how could you not want to write about a college professor with an almost clinically insane fear of death? Mental illness is for hot bitches only. Well, and Jack, of course. A little back story on the Reader. She is in her last year of college for a degree not named. Jack is around his early 50s in this story, so he is not precisely a GILF but close enough. Without further ado, here is Living In The Moment!

Being a teacher's aide could be fun at times. You could get a reduced tuition rate for the semesters you served, get some working experience for resumés, and form connections with other professors that would benefit you. But you didn't like that the one you helped was a millionth-timed divorcee and a big grump.

When you look outside, Jack Gladney is like any other teacher on campus, enriching students with knowledge of his subject and history. He was just there to do something he mildly enjoyed while living comfortably during his tenure. He hadn't hopped on the idea of taking a senior college student whose major had nothing to do with his course, but he relented. It would be helpful to have someone grade and read assignments for him. After years of doing the same thing repeatedly, it was a nice change of pace, but when he saw you walk through that door, neon pink backpack on your shoulder, he was floored.

The hazy sun rays of the late summer gleamed in your enchanting eyes, dilating as you stepped closer to him, a gorgeously supple face with a soft hand stretched out, introducing yourself. Jack was so lost in thought when you took his ogling as indifference as if you were just another part of the student body, and technically, you were. Before he could react, you had pulled your hand away, snaking it behind your thigh as if you could hide your embarrassment. He was so frustrated at the thought he had missed his chance to feel your youthful skin his words came out as a bark.

"You'll be my new aid, correct?"

It had caught you off guard when he asked it like this was just another task to tend to as a teacher as a moment of silence passed in the empty lecture hall.

It was early August, a week before classes started, and the universe would fill the buildings with scurrying freshman and returning students, so no one could hear as he asked you to follow him to his anointing office. The sound of the fake wooden door thumping and the metal knob flicking shut should not have startled you as much as it did. Jack plopped down on his leather chair, running wide digits through his receding hair and letting out a puff of air the same way his seat did. His fingers were so big, almost meaty. Compared to yours, they were giants. They could easily curve over the tops and make your hand look like a baby's.

Your eyes widen for a split second, barely enough for Jack to register as a wave of heat covers your cheeks. You tore your gaze away from his girthy fingers and focused on his face as he explained what he expected of you as his new teacher's aid with a rumble of his chest.

So young, Jack remembered thinking. She has so much life ahead of her.

Jack was so handsome for someone his age, a silver fox, only realistically so. The prominent nose on his face was like a soft beak that stuck out even more than the splashes of moles and freckles on his skin. Time had aged face with years of worrying and stress, which always happened as time passed, but it was oddly dashing on him. He had a round belly that the buttons on his casual shirt stretched over as he sat—just one of the many things a long life would do to you.

A warmth built in your chest as you studied Mr. Gladney, the kind you only knew to feel with cute boys your age. He caught you staring at his stomach. A twitch of his jaw and a twinge of pink on his ears told you he was embarrassed. That was one of his biggest insecurities, and you, a college girl who made his cock ache, were staring at it. Jack sucked in and sat up straighter, and asked if you had any questions for him, trying to end this conversation as soon as possible.

You shot out the usual inquiries for someone in your position. How long were the classes, what were his office hours, and did he typically follow a specific schedule for assignments? All the while, you subconsciously rubbed your thighs together. Partly from anxiety and the other from the swelling desire in your core that made itself apparent as you imagined what he was like when he was younger. Maybe if fate had brought him later into this world, you could know what Jack Gladney's cock felt like as he held his broad hands around your throat.

Sadly, the universe wasn't in your favor, so here he was, sitting in his dark brown office chair as he opened up his laptop to dismiss you.

This school year was going to be rough.

The months went on and on with you working as Professor Jack Gladney's aide, grading small assignments he didn't feel like doing and helping with technical issues whenever he tried to start a projector or hook up a new speaker system. 

There were months of heated stares and partner-less orgasms for both of you. After all, Jack was your professor, and you were his aid—his sweet little, eager-to-please assistant.

By the middle of the first semester, you were on the brink of quitting, willing to deal with the extra thousand or two in tuition if it meant you wouldn't have to please yourself before and after his class, see the way his balls would show every time he sat down, and his dress pants would tighten. But then, he remembered your birthday, gifting you this cute pink trapper keeper binder with a 3D matching star charm. Your heart nearly burst out of its seams when you opened the neatly wrapped present. You hadn't been expecting him to do something thoughtful for you. You almost kissed him then. 

You sometimes thought he did those small hormonal-altering tricks on purpose, but that couldn't be it. Mr. Gladney would never think of a student that way, and certainly not the aid he gave all the grunt work to. But still, you could never deny how he would adjust whenever you bent over or crossed your thick legs.

You were flattering yourself. That had to be it.

Finally, after returning from Thanksgiving break and amid mid-terms, you decided to grade a study packet you had typed up for Jack for his students.

You were going to wait to reapply for the second semester. You couldn't handle seeing his gorgeous face every day, and you couldn't handle grading 90% of his assignments while balancing your own. It was so exhausting, your infatuation with him. This wasn't something worth tiring yourself over. It never had the chance of happening.

And now, here you were, knuckles inches away from his office door, ready to break the news. Finally, you got the courage to knock, hearing a faint "come in" as you opened the fake wooden slab.

Jack's face was buried in the small screen of his typing machine. He was furiously typing as he squinted, the same plush lips you dreamt about kissing pursed in concentration, disregarding your presence.

"Mr. Gladney," you start, taking a deep breath. "I... I just wanted to inform you that I won't be reapplying as your teacher's aide next semester."

That got him to stop typing, eyes snapping to you.

"Why?" He questions plainly, leaving no room for hesitation.

"I just want to try something else next semester. I think I might apply to work in the college library," you lie with your face downcast.

"Is that so?" Jack's words are rhetorical as he stands, pushing himself up on the arms of his chair, grunting softly. He stops in front of you, only being able to see the shiny black shoes on his feet.

"Have you not enjoyed your time working with me?" He tries to hide the hurt in his voice, but you notice it and whip up your head to reassure him. You couldn't stand to see him upset, especially if you were the reason.

"No! No," you say a bit more calmly than before. I have. It's just that..." You can't think of another lie as Professor Gladney crosses his arms and stares tensely.

"Then what is it? Do I give you too much of a workload? I can lessen it next semester." Jack says your name sweetly, almost begging for you to tell him how he needs to fix this. 

He will do anything for you to stay with him—to feel your bubbly presence for as long as possible. You make him feel young. He never wants that feeling to disappear again.

You let a partial truth slip out.

"I-I just can't handle the emotional toll this takes on me." Jack drops his arms, moving closer to you, worry etching his features.

"The emotional toll?' he repeats. "Have I been too harsh with you? I-I didn't mean it. I just wanted to treat you like any of my other coworkers." You scoff, anger now taking the reigns, closing the distance between you, bodies a foot barely apart.

"Like a coworker? Is that all I am to you?" you asked hotly, fists clenching. He was shocked at your sudden outburst. Perhaps you were too emotional, but you had held back these thoughts and feelings for so long that you couldn't help but open the floodgates.

"I thought I meant something more than that! For fucks sake, you remembered an item I mentioned once and got it for my birthday! Do you treat your coworkers like that?" A vein pops out of your neck as you practically yell.

Jack's mouth opens and closes as if he's thinking and trying to say something simultaneously, but nothing comes out. He walks to the office door and closes it, pressing the little lock button. You don't even care that you're trapped here with a professor, your boss. He sighs, pressing the pads of his finger on his lips, walking back, finally letting the cold front he puts on leave.

"You're right," he concedes, "you are more than that to me." Your heart leaps out of your chest; those were the words you have been dying to hear for the past few months. "Your youth intoxicates me. You make me feel young again. I love that about you." Jack places his hand to cup your cheek softly. You lean into him, smiling. "But we can't. Ignoring all rules of teacher-student relationships, you shouldn't be like that. You have your whole life ahead of you, boys your age you can feel that way about."

Tears well up in your eyes as he continues his rant as if he's making the biggest mistake ever. Jack fears the short time left of his life will end with the thought of you regretting him.

"I've been divorced. Had kids. I had a whole life, but you haven't. You shouldn't let an ancient pervert like me be what you want."

Your heart shatters for him. He sounds like no more life left, but he's wrong. You know Jack's wrong. You don't care about the stereotypical life he has fulfilled. You care about the one now—the life in the present.

You mirror his gesture, putting both hands tenderly against his face, boring your stare into his, hoping he'll understand what you're trying to say as your lips meet his, melting into a deep kiss. Jack doesn't hesitate to kiss back, snaking his hand into your hair as you part your lips slightly, silently permitting his tongue to enter. You moan at his taste, dark coffee and cinnamon Altoids dancing over your buds.

He begins to walk forward until your backside meets his desk, only parting to catch your breaths momentarily.

"I don't give a damn about boys my age." You say the last phrase with disgust. It was as if the mere thought of you finding yourself in the arms of any man besides Jack was repulsive. "I want you."

He groans, dropping his head and closing his eyes as you feel his manhood harden, his belly lightly brushing yours. You hop on the desk, wrapping your legs around his waist, and pull his face in again; your tongue dances against his this time. His fingers find their way around your neck, tingling the sensitive flesh. You buck into him and whine—a familiar heat searing your body.

You pop the first button of his patterned dress shirt and move on to the next, eventually getting into the middle, curly chest hairs peeking through, but he stops you, breaking the kiss as you whine.

Jack's insecurity about his aging body clouds over any lustful thoughts. An older man with a beer gut kissing a young college girl is unheard of. He doesn't want to disappoint you.

"Jack." He opens his brown eyes, and an almost invisible rim of green lines his pupil. How had you never noticed how beautiful they were? "I want you." You reiterate once more. "I want your body. Every single part of it. I want you to fuck me on your desk until I cum."

His stomach never disgusted you. It was cute, with the barely tamed gray and black hairs on his head and the purple bags under his eyes. 

Everything about him was amazing and experienced, and you wanted more of it, needed more of it. You see his anxiety calm, loosening his tense shoulders as you continue your movements, taking off his shirt as he does the same to you.

Jack paws at the padded fabric of your bra, squeezing and rolling your breast like dough as your head falls back, revealing your now bare neck. He doesn't seem to appreciate that something isn't adorning it, so he puts his mouth there, sucking a welt onto the skin as you moan. You continue to undress him, unfastening his leather belt and khakis, palming at his bulge underneath the trail of hair to his boxers. His cock is so impossibly wide. If he was that big, your mind must be playing tricks on you. You lower your hooded eyes, finding the hem of his red and dark green plaid underwear, and pull them down to reveal the myth.

Your mind was not playing tricks on you. Professor Gladney was that broad—more comprehensive than a can of soda—and you gasped, struggling to fit your hand around him. You could feel Jack smirk at your reaction. The same confident bastard you fantasized about was back.

"You think you can take all of me, baby?" He teases. You blush at the new pet name. "You think you can fit all of Daddy's fat cock in that tight pussy of yours?"

Jack calling himself Daddy was not something that ever occurred to you, but it had turned you on more than anything. You would have done so if it were possible to climax with just words. Your shame left you as you gently stroked him, careful not to irritate the sensitive skin.

Jack lost all self-restraint, pushing your body down onto the hard surface, forcing your arms up to rip your bra off, revealing your bare tits as his mouth latched on the perked nipple. You had lost your grip on his shaft, replacing it by removing your pants and cotton underwear, suddenly feeling embarrassed to have only such a plain pair. Jack begins to trail kisses down to your wet cunt, not suctioning enough to leave marks as he stops at the top of your mound, pausing for too long. 

You open your mouth to protest, but loud moans replace your sentences as he licks a stripe up your slit. Your hips buck into his tongue, chasing it to touch your clit. You shouldn't be surprised that he's so skilled. As he said, he's had a whole life before you, and indeed part of that life was eating out a woman's pussy. The thought of his mouth and hands on another only spurs you on. His experience was so attractive.

Jack's lips suck on your clit, pulling the bud into his mouth and releasing it with a pop. You dig your fingers into his short hair, not allowing him to leave your wet skin more than an inch as he continues. Your moans and groans are sporadic and wild as you continue to fuck his face, feeling two prodding fingers at your entrance as he coats them in your slick, sliding them in. His digits stretch you just as much as you dreamed they would, sighing happily as he begins to curl them repeatedly.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted to taste this young pussy. To feel how fucking tight your unused hole is." Jack's words are so lewd, borderline offensive, implying you've never had this done to you before, like some ignorant child.

You weren't naive to the feeling of fingers stretching you, but you were to these fingers, ones so wide it almost felt like a cock.

"Please, use my hole, Jack." You squeak in a high-pitched voice. "Make it the way you want it. It's yours." It feels as if something has possessed you. You've become such a demeaning and whiny thing because of him, as he adds a third finger.

You were so close to the edge. You almost come undone with just his digits and mouth. As if Jack senses it, he removes both, not giving you room to protest as he pumps his cock with the wet fingers and slides it over your folds, sending jolts of pleasure every time he bumps your clit. He lines the head with your entrance, barely entering as you feel the sensation of stretching, putting his free hand onto your hips for purchase. 

He slides in, the burning pain becoming more prominent and not yet pleasurable as you begin to pant, placing your sweaty palm on the back of his hand for support. He shushes your whines with a kiss, finally seated enough to use his thumb to rub your clit, easing the discomfort.

Jack's cock is so impossibly huge that you have no idea how you will take the rest of him, barely handling a half. He will surely tear you apart.

"Look at you," he coos against your hot face. "You're doing so good. Taking me so well." You preen under his gaze, hiding a self-satisfied grin at the praise.

You begin to thank him, but the poke of his head hitting your cervix silences you, squeezing his hand tight as he settles inside.

You're so complete, so unbelievably full you feel like you'll burst, tears leaking out of your eyes, and then he's pulling back out, your tight pussy creating a suction against his shaft as Jack hisses, trying not to cum so soon. He can hardly help himself, but now he finally has you. After so long, after months of fucking himself into his hand, picturing it as you, it's ultimately real. He wants to do so many things with you, defile your body in so many ways it'll have you screaming, crying, begging for more, but another sharp squeeze on his hand brings him back from the future. He realizes you're right. He needs to live in the moment-- in the now. He might not even hear your soft, petite pleas for him to go faster if he doesn't.

Jack's mind arrives to the present again as he speeds up, dragging his veined cock against the soft spongy flesh inside you as he continues the assault on your clit. Your skin jiggles with each thrust, the stiff desk squeaking under your jolting body as you pull Jack towards you, his stomach pressing yours as you hug him close.

The lost orgasm from before quickly makes its appearance again as Jack mumbles sweet praises into your ear, his hot breath fanning the hair by it. Your cunt grips him so tight that he's barely able to pound into you harder, but he finds a way, always the ever-so-persistent professor.

"So full, Jack. You make me feel so full." You cry as your back arches. You can feel the pressure in your body about to snap as he pinches your nipple.

"I just knew you could do it." He kisses your sensitive neck as your cunt clamps down on him, hissing. "My little aide, taking her professor's cock so well. You're so good to me. So perfect."

Finally, the fictional band snaps within you, blinding you for a few moments as you cum, nearly screaming underneath him. Jack follows suit, painting white ropes of cum on your walls, making you feel even more stuffed. He slows his thrusts, riding the ends of his climax as he rests on top of you, careful not to put his total weight on.

As both your heart rates slowed, Jack peeled himself off your sticky body with a tired groan, gently pulling out of your vice grip of a cunt with a squelch, his spend dripping out. You cover your face in shame, embarrassed by the sound. Your head is so far up in the clouds that you don't even care he's fishing for his clothes, knowing that you need this time to calm down and collect yourself as he does the same for yours, slipping your bra and shirt overhead. He smiles, proud of his work, as he grabs a tissue from the box on the corner of his desk, wiping the rest off your folds, ever the skilled man. He's gentle with you, kind, and mindful of your body's sensitive and aching areas.

You feel like you might fall asleep, but the rumble of his baritone voice pulls you from the warm embrace. You blink slowly, trying to understand what he's saying. He almost looks worried at your lack of response, but all it takes is his thumb caressing your cheekbones to get your ears to work.

"I'm sorry, what?" You asked, dazed. Jack laughs to himself, shaking his head.

"I asked if you were okay, but I see I fucked your hearing right out of you." You grin at his joke, reassuring him that you're okay. He leans you up, hesitating for a moment as he gathers your jeans and panties.

"Can I-uh," Jack clears his throat, ears, and cheeks pink. "Can I keep these?"

You look to see what he has, realizing it's your panties, and you grin even more exhaustively, nodding.

"Yes, you can keep them, Jack." You tease with a mischievous glint in your eyes. "I want there to be something physical you can remember me by as you jerk yourself off tonight."

Jack shakes his head, sighing through his nose as he stares at the beautiful woman above him slipping on her pants. He was utterly obsessed with you, the way you laughed, always helped him, spoke, smiled, walked, and touched him.

You catch Jack staring, but you don't make any questioning looks. You acknowledge that you can see him looking at you with a warm smile. 

After months of waiting, nothing could damage your mood, not even how you stumbled as you tried to walk across his office, his hand on your lower back the entire way. Now, you were excited at the prospect of the new semester starting all because of your professor, your surprisingly quirky and kind history professor at the college on the hill. 

----

I wrote this TWO years ago and for some reason Tumblr removed it. So, here I am reposting it. You can definitely see how my writing has changed for the better.

[cloudyfacewithjam]

[pleasespellchimerical]

Sooo is netflix starting a tradition of Christmas Existential Satire Movies or something?

Last year we had Don’t Look Up. Which was super heavy-handed, but had enough moments of joy, horror, humor, and clarity to rescue it from being absolute preachy cheese. 

This year, we got White Noise.

Based on a 1985 absurdist satiric novel that was considered unfilmable, White Noise is in your face, but subtle about it. It forces you to engage in good faith with the material (instead of writing it off because it’s weird), and actively make connections throughout the viewing. It stars Adam Driver as a professor and husband who is by turns insecure and confident, and Greta Gerwig as his wife who has a secret that threatens to rip apart the family’s collective delusions (not an Adam Driver fan, but this role very much suited him). Don Cheadle is there too, with an alarmingly (and hilariously) enthusiastic and sincere character (this man deserves material more complex than MCU, because WOW).

The main theme of White Noise is death. Specifically, Western society’s paradoxical relationship with it - we’re phobic of death, but also death-seeking. The film ties so many issues with Western culture back to this theme: consumerism, misinformation, admiration of celebrities and demagogues (Hitler and Elvis both feature as topics), willful ignorance and delusion, fascination with manmade disasters, violence, addiction, but most of all -

That we cannot escape these problems because of the underlying paradox of our relationship with death. 

The film doesn’t leave us with any answers to these problems, but forces us to examine our own fear and fascination with death, and how it acts in our lives and society. We’re laughing throughout the film, but we’re laughing at ourselves.

Just the stuff to ring in the new year, huh?

[priscaren]

[grigori77]

2022 in Movies - My Top 30 Fave Movies (Part 1)

30.  THOR: LOVE & THUNDER – All right, STRAIGHT AWAY I’m gonna address the elephant in the room – this year’s big-screen MCU offerings have been somewhat underwhelming compared to previous years’ track record, which certainly points to a worrying continuing trend (especially after 2021’s subjective misfire Eternals) of the previously CONSISTENTLY ON-FORM movie-making behemoth starting to slack off some.  Could it be true?  Well the latest offerings are still entertaining cinema, but there’s no denying some of the shine seems to be coming off the product after COVID, especially with all the other shit we’re having to put up with in the real world right now … still, even on an off-day, writer-director Taika Waititi is still capable of delivering something special, and while this never reaches the rewarding heights of Thor: Ragnarok, his second tour of duty for Marvel is still a lot of fun. As with its predecessor, there are certainly times where it’s clear that plot was never a major concern with this movie, but at least there’s enough to keep the film from devolving into a two hour string of admittedly frequently hilarious fan-service skits … Gor the God Butcher (Christian Bale) has embarked on an intergalactic crusade to rid the Universe of gods with his deadly Necrosword and an army of nightmarish shadow demons, prompting Thor (Chris Hemsworth) to get over his post-Endgame funk and MAN UP again in order to save the day with the help of his faithful companions Valkyrie (Tessa Thompson) and Korg the Kronan (Waititi himself), as well as his ex-girlfriend, Jane Foster (Natalie Portman), who’s now been gifted the powers of Thor by the reconstituted hammer Mjolnir (I shit you not), which is also helping her fight the terminal cancer ravaging her body. Got all that?  Good, because that’s all we really NEED to know as Waititi and co lead us on a merry romp through a series of visually stunning cosmic adventures, rousing larger-than-life primary-coloured superhero battles and a riotous cavalcade of impressively well-pitched jokes that display an impressively consistent hit rate.  Hemsworth once again proves that funny Thor is the best Thor, but there’s enough emotional heavy-lifting involved in the story that he gets to exercise his dramatic muscles too, while it’s nice to finally see Portman finally return to a role she’s been absent from for far too long, and this time she’s clearly having a fine old time finally getting to play on an equal footing with the big boys as Jane’s new superpowered alter ego; Thompson and Waititi, meanwhile, both get to do a lot with significantly expanded roles this time round, while the brief first act appearance of the Guardians of the Galaxy is a welcome whetting of our appetites as we wait for Volume 3. Then there’s the newcomers, of course – the sojourn to Omnipotence City, the galactic Home of The Gods, is one of the film’s undeniable highlights, especially with the introduction of a delightfully hammy Russell Crowe as the mighty Zeus, while Christian Bale brings a welcome touch of old school professional gravitas and method intensity to the role of Gor, who, despite his despicable methods, ultimately proves to be one of the MCU’s most sympathetic villains.  This is one of those movies that’s definitely less about the destination than the journey, as the real pleasure here’s just submerging ourselves in the spectacle, the characters and the endless rich humour and going with the flow, and it’s this kind of filmmaking that Waititi excels at like few others – ultimately it doesn’t hold up to some of the greats that came before, but it’s still worth giving a chance.  Let’s just hope Marvel can do better in the future, yeah?

29.  THE 355 – my cinematic year kicked off in what I thought was thoroughly fine style with a rip-roaring, star-studded spy thriller which was clearly intended to start a franchise which I’d totally be up for since it’s everything I love to watch – hard-hitting, visceral action pinned to a genuinely compelling plot powered by a quintet of strong women who take on a patriarchal establishment and beat it at its own game.  Clearly it wanted to shake-up the status quo and as far as I’m concerned it pulled it off in fine style  … NO WONDER, then, that it’s been (largely) roundly reviled by critics and tanked at the box office, much as previous attempts at similar ends such as the intended Ghostbusters and Charlie’s Angels reboots did a few years back. I thought we’d gotten past this, guys! Come on … it’s a criminal shame, because this is SUCH great movie.  Jessica Chastain heads the cast as tough-as-nails CIA operative “Mace” Browne, out for blood after a botched operation in Paris to acquire a potentially devastating piece of terrorist-tech results in the death of her partner and friend Nick Fowler (Sebastian Stan).  Given a second chance at tracking down the device, things get complicated when a clandestine conspiracy is revealed and Mace is forced to team up with retired MI6 officer Khadijah Adiyeme (Lupita Nyong’o), rival German BND operative Marie Schmidt (Dianna Kruger), Colombian DNI analyst and psychologist Graciela Rivera (Penelope Cruz) and Chinese MSS agent Lin Mi Sheng (X-Men: Days of Future Past’s Fan Bingbing) to beat the bad guys and clear their names after they’re all framed as terrorists themselves.  All five of the film’s badass leading ladies have been given impressively memorable and thoroughly well-written characters with plenty of potential for growth and character development not only throughout this film but in what now looks like an extremely unlikely franchise future (even Fan who, despite coming into the action quite late, immediately makes QUITE the impression and builds on that groundwork admirably throughout the latter half of the film); similarly, Stan once again proves what a mighty screen talent he is, while there’s an enjoyably reptilian turn from Jason Flemyng as the film’s Big Bad, international crime boss Elijah Clarke.  While this was advertised as a relentlessly-paced, breakneck thrill ride, the action quota is actually somewhat more restrained here than on some of its more established peer franchises (like Bond and Mission: Impossible, anyway), but what IS on offer is, correctly, very much in service to the intelligently written story, and the film certainly doesn’t scrimp on the thrills when it DOES decide to get our adrenaline pumping, delivering some suitably robust set-pieces that punctuate rather than drive the agreeably pacy plot.  Former X-Men writer Simon Kinberg acquits himself admirably here, but like his previous crack at directing it really is starting to look like Hollywood just has it in for him, since Dark Phoenix ALSO got a critical and release-debacle-based financial mauling it really DIDN’T deserve.  This is a cracking spy thriller with a killer premise and exceptional cast of characters which deserves far more respect than it's received – altogether this is a film which needs a SERIOUS reappraisal.  Give it a chance, guys, it REALLY needs it …

28.  NIGHTMARE ALLEY – Guillermo del Toro is one of my favourite filmmakers of all time, and one of the things I love most about him is his innate understanding of the inherent truths about the cinematic monsters he frequently portrays in his works.  Some of his most interesting thematic material comes when he examines the horrors that his NON-supernatural characters are capable of, but until now the only time he’s genuinely FOCUSED on inherently human monsters was in 2015’s Crimson Peak – sure, it had proper ghosts in it, but the actual threat was very much from the film’s living, breathing flesh-and-blood characters. His latest offering has embraced this principle to a far greater degree as he adapts William Lindsay Gresham’s none-more-dark novel about morally grey grifters and carnival sideshow charlatans in World War II America, Bradley Cooper delivering what might be a career best turn as voraciously ambitious and inherently talented con-artist Stan Carlisle, who rises through the ranks working the sideshow acts in a lowly travelling carnival before finally striking it big when he goes it alone in a one-man psychic act in Buffalo, New York, with the increasingly reluctant help of his disillusioned girlfriend Molly Cahill (Rooney Mara).  When he comes to the attention of influential high-society psychologist Lilith Ritter (Cate Blanchett), she opens the door to a business opportunity which has the potential for MASSIVE financial rewards, but also a truly ruinous fall from grace if Carlisle doesn’t play it JUST RIGHT … del Toro’s always has some pretty palpable darkness in his movies, but he’s never tackled subject matter so genuinely jet black in its pitch before, the film wallowing in some seriously murky waters as we follow an already morally questionable protagonist as he digs down into the most thoroughly reprehensible depths of his own meagre soul, as well as the heart of an uncaring society as irredeemable corrupt as he’s in danger of becoming.  This is NOT an easy film to watch, several times testing the resolve of even the strongest viewers, but the rewards on offer for sticking with it are vast – this is another gold-plated work of art from an immensely talented filmmaker at the very height of his game, and it deserves all of the Oscar buzz it got, even if it ultimately missed out on that coveted Best Picture gong (much as del Toro was snubbed for a directing nomination this time round).  Cooper is a genuine revelation here, suitably seductive but still thoroughly slimy as an already shady guy who becomes progressively worse as his success grows, while Mara’s definitely the only true bright light in the cast as the sweet innocent he takes for a ride who ultimately gets wise just a little too late; Willem Dafoe once again piles on the creepiness as suitably unpleasant geek show barker Clem, while Toni Collette and David Strathairn are both excellent as Zeena and Pete Krumbein, the fading psychic sideshow act that teach Carlisle his craft, and Del Toro’s The Shape of Water star Richard Jenkins is far more complex than he first seems as Ezra Grindle, the potentially lethal mark he underestimates to such dangerous degrees.  The REAL standout star of the film, however, is Blanchett, who captivates and repulses in equal measure as an ice-cold psychopath who deserves to go down as one of the all-time great femme fatales of cinema. This was DEFINITELY the year’s darkest film, but it’s also an immensely rewarding viewing experience, incredibly intelligent, breathlessly edgy and unbelievably tense from its creepy opening to its ruinous ending, and every inch as surprisingly seductive as its untrustworthy lead character, the truest film noir to come along in a very long time indeed …

27.  AMBULANCE – Michael Bay’s cinematic output in the last ten years in particular has been very interesting. It’s like he’s going through phases as he’s trying to work out how he wants to go forward as his style “matures” – 2013’s Pain & Gain was, like all his previous output, big, loud and definitely flashy in the most indulgent way, but it also had something somewhat serious to say, given its origins as an (admittedly genuinely BONKERS) actual TRUE STORY.  Then came the fourth Transformers film, Age of Extinction, widely regarded as THE VERY WORST of the bunch, and rightly so.  But then he turned right round and did something COMPLETELY SERIOUS when he tackled a much less OTT but far more emotionally charged and potent true story in 13 Hours: the Secret Soldiers of Benghazi, which is a genuinely masterful piece of work which I personally regard as his VERY BEST FILM. Then he went and did ANOTHER Transformers movie with The Last Knight, which was more of the same – juvenile, disjointed in plot and narrative and pure over-the-top indulgence – and yet, somehow, it was just a little bit BETTER than much of what had come before all the same (actually getting close to the quality of his first, still BEST, instalment).  Most recently he went to Netflix to create something which was clearly always INTENDED to be over-the-top and indulgent but this time saw him actually getting the recipe RIGHT (like he did on The Rock) with 6 Underground, a thoroughly enjoyable action-packed escapist romp with Ryan Reynolds effortlessly holding court like he always does.  Anyway … Bay’s latest feels like something else entirely, somehow managing to sit VERY comfortably in the middle ground – once again, it’s big, loud, flashy and DEFINITELY indulgent, but it’s also one of those rare things for a Michael Bay film, because it’s anything but dumb.  Sure, it’s got a REALLY simple premise – veteran marine Will Sharp (Candyman and The Matrix Resurrections’ Yahya Abdul-Mateen II) and his dangerous livewire adoptive brother Danny (Jake Gyllenhaal), the sons of a notorious LA bank robber, pull off a spectacular high-stakes daylight heist but are then forced to hijack an ambulance and its inhabitants, skilled but jaded EMT Cam Thompson (From Dusk Till Dawn’s Eiza Gonzalez) and her patient Zach (Mrs Fletcher’s Jackson White), an LAPD patrolman wounded during the robbery, which leads to a crazy cat-and-mouse chase through the streets of Los Angeles – but there’s clearly some real intelligence behind the script.  The plot is surprisingly smart despite its clichéd nature, the characters all impressively written and skilfully developed over the course of the film, and the twists are rewardingly effective when they come.  Sure, Bay keeps throwing the camera around like a lunatic, sometimes chucking in some genuine vertigo-inducing drone shots PURELY because he can, I think, but this time it just seems to ramp up the excitement factor as he does one of the few things he’s always really excelled at – crafting properly BLINDING action sequences – over and over again.  Certainly the second unit and stunt teams really earned the big bucks on this one, every car crash, crazy jump and desperate manoeuvre executed with astonishing precision made all the more impressive because it’s immediately obvious there’s NO CGI AT ALL being used to pull any of this stuff off. Refreshingly, though, Bay doesn’t scrimp on the character work at all here, screenwriter Chris Fedak doing a lot of the heavy-lifting so the uniformly excellent cast can just concentrate on BEING their characters for 2+ hours – Gyllenhaal is a ferocious, tightly-wound force of nature who’s both antihero and antagonist throughout the film, while Abdul-Mateen II is, as usual, electric in every second of his screen time, investing Will with wounded intensity and conflicted complexity as a desperate everyman stuck in this impossible situation because he’s just trying to help his family, and Gonzalez holds her own against these two craft-MASTERS with incredible skill and determination as a world-weary, disillusioned blue collar worker who finally rediscovers the passion she once had for her work under the most extreme circumstances; Garret Dillahunt (Fear the Walking Dead) and Keir O’Donnell (American Sniper), meanwhile, both shine as a winningly spiky odd-couple as LAPD SIS Captain Monroe and FBI special Agent Anson Clark, the polar-opposite cops thrust together in the race to hunt the Sharp Brothers down, and The Walking Dead’s Olivia Stambouliah frequently steals entire scenes with a single withering putdown or quirky aside as LAPD surveillance wizard Lieutenant Dhazghig.  Sure, this ain’t a perfect movie, Bay still not FULLY jettisoning his off-the-wall and rather off-colour sense of humour, which still surfaces in a few scenes, and it’s still VERY overblown, but these are small quibbles when a film is THIS enjoyable, visually impressive, pulse-pumping exciting and truly unforgettable.  Definitely settling into the camp of Bay’s more worthy films, this is another cracker that again proves he’s a director who really can DELIVER when he actually TRIES.

26.  THE CURSED – some of my favourite horror movies are films that snuck in under the radar to become cult hits, or simply stuck to the shadows to become secret weapons of the genre, uncut gems known to a lucky few who always recommend them to likeminded genre fans when they get the chance.  This impressive indie horror from writer-director Sean Ellis (The Broken, Anthropoid) is another great example of this particular phenomenon, and I’m sure it’s destined for some small cult status somewhere down the line. The plot is … STRANGE, but in a very good way, and there’s a lot here that I really shouldn’t give away because it’s better to let you just ease in and discover it on your own - suffice to say, this is an intriguingly offbeat take on the classic werewolf trope, set in late 19th Century France (albeit with a mysterious coda set during World War I’s Battle of the Somme) but shot in England with a largely British cast and thoroughly OOZING with a genuinely palpable doom-laden atmosphere of pregnant dread teeming with hazy mists and overcast skies.  Narcos’ Boyd Holbrook pulls off a surprisingly decent English accent as he smoulders with restrained, broody intensity as John McBride, a haunted pathologist who goes to an isolated French village to investigate a succession of animalistic killings which may be the result of a curse laid upon the community after the brutal eradication of a group of Roma travellers some years before.  There are allusions made to the legendary Beast of Gevaudan throughout, which formed the inspiration for the enjoyably oddball cult classic Brotherhood of the Wolf, but this is a very different breed of horror cinema – moody, understated and deliberately slowburn, parcelling out its scares and impressively visceral violence with cool restraint throughout while building to a feverish climax that brilliantly pays off the groundwork meticulously laid through its two hours, while the inventive use of some very icky physical effects has crafted something pretty unique to this particular sub-genre.   Holdbrook makes for a tragically fallible hero here, while Kelly Reilly brings restrained, wounded classiness to the film as Isabelle, the wife of complicated, brutish landowner Seamus Laurent (a restrained but potent turn from Rogue One’s Alistair Petrie), whose pig-headed short-sightedness seems to have doomed his community, and Amelia Crouch (Kate, The Last Dragonslayer) thoroughly impresses as the Laurents’ daughter Charlotte, whose younger brother Edward (Rocketman’s Max Mackintosh) was the first bitten and therefore first cursed.  Ellis has crafted a magnificently subtle masterpiece of the genre, playing an understated long game that pays off magnificently, and the results are one of the best indie horror movies I’ve come across in years.  I look forward to whatever he does next.

25.  THE BANSHEES OF INISHERIN – British-Irish writer-director Martin McDonagh has been drumming up a hell of a fuss with his darkly comic indie cinema for a good while now, exploding on the scene with the delightfully malevolent In Bruges before becoming THE award-season darling when he unleashed the astounding Three Billboards In Ebbing, Missouri on an unsuspecting world. His latest snuck into cinemas with a good deal less fanfare than either of those, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worthy of consideration in the same sentence as those two masterpieces, and it’s certainly due for some major cult classic status since it’s clearly being overlooked.  McDonagh reunites his In Bruges leading double act here, with Brendan Gleeson and Colin Farrell playing Colm and Padraic, two salt-of-the-earth working men living in the isolated Irish island community of Inisherin in 1923.  For much of their lives, these two have been thick-as-thieves, but then one day Colm inexplicably decides he just doesn’t want to be friends anymore, much to Padraic’s dismay and confusion.  As the latter attempts to find out why and repair whatever the damage actually is, a well of resentment and deep feelings is dug up and brought to light which threatens to turn into pure chaos as the former friends seem set on a path to becoming bitter enemies … as you’d expect from their sheer levels of acting talent, both men are BREATHTAKINGLY exceptional in their roles, their spiky antagonistic chemistry sparking a wealth of potent performance-based fireworks, while McDonagh’s brilliantly acerbic script pops and crackles with pleasing intensity with each increasingly bitter exchange – Gleeson is stoic and gravelly, largely keeping his volcanic eruptions under strict control but you’re always aware that it’s bubbling away just below the surface, while this might be the best performance I’ve EVER seen Farrell deliver, a masterclass in wounded pride and confused bluster as a fussy, fastidious and deeply ordered man whose perfect little world has suddenly been blown apart and he’s thoroughly incapable of piecing it back together.  There’s also excellent support from Better Call Saul’s Kerry Condon as Padraic’s long-suffering sister Siobhan, Dunkirk’s Barry Keoghan as flighty local likely lad Dominic, Gary Lydon as his father, brutish local copper Peadar Kearney, and Garage’s Pat Shortt as Jonjo, the local innkeeper caught in the middle trying to keep the peace.  McDonagh’s crafted another delectable slice of black comedy here, not quite as emotionally weighty as Three Billboards but just as capable at stirring us with its rich character-based turmoil, and he’s once again proved that, with the possible exception of his brother, The Guard and Calvary writer-director John Michael McDonagh, there’s nobody else out there who can deliver low-key indie comedy drama quite like this …

24.  WHITE NOISE – Sneaking in just before the close of the year, this blissfully anarchic social satire-as-subtle screwball comedy from writer-director Noah Baumbach, based on the award-winning breakout novel by Don DeLillo, came as a welcome surprise final salvo at the end of the year just as I was ready to call it a day for my cinematic adventure for 2022.  Once again teaming up with his frequent collaborator and wife Greta Gerwig, Baumbach presents the tale of professor Jack Gladney (Adam Driver), who teaches Hitler Studies at College-On-the-Hill in 1984.  Regarded as something of a mythic rock star by his students and fellow teachers, he’s a subtly charismatic and deeply intellectual man with a fascinating way of speaking, but underneath the visage he’s actually riddled with deep-seated neuroses, hopelessly dependent on the emotional support of his fifth wife Babette (Gerwig), herself on her fourth marriage, who helps him raise their four-strong gaggle of kids born through their various marriages.  He’s on the verge of a particularly significant academic milestone when their collective lives are thrown into utter upheaval after a nearby freight-train crash leads to a dangerous “airborne toxic event” which has everyone in their small town scrambling away in a massive chaotic evacuation, which not only exposes the Gladney family as a whole to the inherently mad nature of humanity in a crisis but also polarises previously unresolved feelings between Jack and Babette as a startling hidden truth is laid bare.  Baumbach’s always been a delicately mischievous filmmaker, crafting subtly observant cinema about oddball people stretched far beyond their comfort zone in the likes of The Squid & the Whale, Frances Ha and Greenberg, but this really feels like the first time he’s really let his own inherently satirical grasp of the absurd have free rein outside his co-writing collaborations with Wes Anderson on The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou and Fantastic Mr Fox, and as a result this is definitely a film I myself can get into much more easily (really, I liked his previous stuff, but THIS is the first one where I’ve genuinely FALLEN IN LOVE with his work). He’s certainly helped on his way by a uniformly game cast, Driver dominating the film as a wonderfully puffed-up self-important self-promoter who thinks he’s a legend and is gradually informed by the events of the story that he is, in fact, just as insignificant as the rest of us, while Gerwig is about as on-fire as I’ve ever seen her, investing “Baba” with a slightly scattered deer-in-the-headlights sense of well-hidden desperation that adds in intriguing edge to her interactions with Driver; Tomorrowland and The Killing of a Sacred Deer’s Raffey Cassidy, meanwhile, is an understated GEM as Babette’s unshakably determined daughter Denise, as is Sam Nivola as Jack’s precociously intelligent son Heinrich, Don Cheadle is quietly masterful as Jack’s fellow professor and best friend Murray Siskind, who teaches about “living idols” through his courses on American culture, and High Life’s Lars Eidinger shines as a seriously baked intellectual drug dealer who drops some bizarre wisdom in the final act.  This is a wonderfully off-the-wall piece of highly nostalgic social satire which is as nourishing to the mind as it is to the funny bone, and Baumbach deserves to be proud of his achievements here.  Ignore the clueless critics – this is a GREAT MOVIE! I’m certainly intrigued to see what he and Gerwig deliver next Barbie arrives …

23.  BLACK PANTHER: WAKANDA FOREVER – It’s a telling state of affairs for the MCU that, while the first standalone vehicle for the late Chadwick Boseman’s most famous role was a triumphant milestone not only for the franchise but for cinema in general, and a genuinely GREAT superhero movie in its own right too, this follow-up, while entertaining enough to warrant its place on this list, is an ultimately comparatively underwhelming piece of work which seems far too concerned about being WOKE to truly deliver on the franchise’s long-running inherent promise of escapist superhero blockbuster thrills.  Granted, the film had a tough uphill battle to fight even before it was started, since the death of Boseman left Marvel in a very tricky position with a genuine cinematic Sophie’s Choice to make – recast the role and run the risk of appearing unsympathetic over the star’s loss, or simply kill off the character of King T’Challa and then work out how to address his absence in the subsequent story.  In the end Kevin Feige and the others chose the latter, and in a way this is the right call, but it still gave them a hell of a tricky hurdle to navigate going forward, and while the film does an admittedly beautiful job of laying both T’Challa and Boseman to rest with dignity, it also creates a tricky tightrope trick that the film only PARTIALLY manages to pull off.  Like many of the other MCU movies, the less actually given away about the plot the better, but there are points that need to be addressed here, so I’ll try my best to do it concisely and with respect.  First of all, the gap Boseman left behind just CAN’T be filled, and where they ultimately went trying was probably NOT the right one, even if it did make the most narrative sense – Letitia Wright’s Shuri was an absolute SWEETHEART in the original film, it was the best thing about her, and while she’s a phenomenal actress the character just DOESN’T WORK spending most of the film ANGRY.  Personally, I think Danai Gurira’s magnificent Okoye or, even better, Lupita Nyong’o’s frustratingly underused Nakia would have been better choices to ultimately succeed T’Challa as the new Black Panther, but in the end you can KIND OF see why they went there; as a result, the introduction of a particular new possibility in the mid-credits cutscene was a particularly frustrating move since it essentially undermines all the work the filmmakers did to convince you beforehand.  And then there’s the villain … oh boy.  Okay, Namor is a pretty fascinating character, and the way he’s introduced and portrayed is BRILLIANT, Tenoch Huerta Mejia (The Forever Purge, Narcos: Mexico) is phenomenal and intense and chilling as the superhuman mutant warrior protecting his aquatic Mayan civilisation of Talokan, but in the end he’s just TOO sympathetic, coming across as a bit of a retread of Kilmonger when the story really calls for a more straightforward BOO HISS Big Bad to give Shuri’s struggles more weight than just one anti-coloniser nation inexplicably being turned against another that’s a little too much like itself. Granted, I understand that this was KIND OF THE POINT here and that it sets things up for darker developments later on in the franchise narrative, but maybe this wasn’t really the right time and place.  Worst of all, though, is the introduction of Riri Williams (Judas & the Black Messiah’s Dominique Thorne) – yeah, I get that Marvel wanted to introduce Ironheart ahead of Armor Wars, and she’s a good character played very well, but she really doesn’t bring ANYTHING to the film beyond a convenient plot point that could have been more effectively brought home with a story-specific character.  So yeah, the film has its flaws, and don’t get me started on that frustrating damp squib of an attempt at a big all-action climax … but when it works it’s still REALLY GOOD, very much the well-oiled, precision-crafted top-notch work we’ve come to expect from the MCU.  Thankfully it works OFTEN ENOUGH to be worthy of it’s place here – the rest of the action is THRILLING, especially a pulse-pounding city chase to rival the first movie’s Busan sequence and the fight that follows when the Submariners are first properly revealed in all their creepy glory, the emotional heavy lifting is executed with respect and delivered with suitable power and gravitas, and the cast are very much ON FORM, particularly Wright, Gurira, Mejia, Winston Duke, once again returning as deserved fan-favourite M’Baku, and the always magnificent Angela Bassett as Wakanda’s grieving, embattled queen Ramonda. Once again Ryan Coogler shows he’s a director of impressive vision and commanding attention to detail, and he’s certainly got a strong grasp on the characters, who are still as well-rounded and convincing as they were in his previous outing … it’s just a shame he couldn’t quite pull off the sheer, unfettered level of GENIUS he managed with the first Black Panther.  Ultimately it’s another sign the franchise is starting to flounder, and while they’re still delivering good product they really need to get back on course before the whole thing comes off the rails entirely …

22.  BELLE – Yeah!  Finally!  After one long-arse wait, I FINALLY got to see the latest from one of my favourite anime directors, Mamoru Hosoda, creator of such gems as The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, Summer Wars, Wolf Children, The Boy & the Beast and Mirai, which have come DAMN CLOSE INDEED to equalling the dizzying heights of Studio Ghibli and the godfather of anime himself, Hayao Miyazaki.  This is another solid gold feather in his cap, a stone-cold masterpiece of the art form that has also, interestingly, forged some intriguing new ground for anime in general, specifically through the integration of fascinating new design ideas and sensibilities from up-and-coming Disney animator and character designer Jin Kim (Tangled, Frozen, Big Hero 6, Zootopia, Over the Moon, Raya & the Last Dragon, Encanto) in the creation of the film’s spellbinding virtual online metaverse of U (an intriguingly magnificent improvement on Summer Wars’ already impressive OZ).  The story revolves around Suzu (Kaho Nakamura in the original Japanese version and Kylie McNeill in the English dub), a timid, stage-fright-riddled teenage girl who nonetheless has a beautiful singing voice and a wildly imaginative talent for writing songs, who finally finds a means to unleash her talents anonymously through her online persona of Belle, who becomes a massive international sensation in U.  Then the emergence of a strange, incredibly disruptive beastly monster, the Dragon (Kamen Rider Den-O and Rurouni Kenshin’s Takeru Satoh and Paul Castro Jr), throws a major spanner in the works, but Suzu slowly realises there’s more to this misanthropic persona than meets the eye, and as she tries to get to the heart of his mystery she’s led to face some hard truths about herself and finally find a reason to grow up and come out of her shell once and for all … this is one of the most beautiful, compelling and EMOTIONALLY DEVASTATING animated features I have EVER SEEN, Hosoda once again proving he’s an undeniable master at tugging our heartstrings to thoroughly ruinous effect even as he’s effortlessly lifting our spirits, and the story here is one that seems precision-crafted to hit us all RIGHT IN THE FEELS while saying intriguing things about the paradoxical nature of fame in a world of all-encompassing social media.  Then of course there’s the soundtrack … OH MY FUCKING GOD what a soundtrack, the music is ASTOUNDING, Suzu/Belle’s songs just fire a flaming arrow RIGHT THROUGH YOUR HEART every time she starts singing, but ESPECIALLY in the film’s powerful climax.  Okay, so since I saw the English dub I ONLY actually know that version, as performed by newcomer Kylie McNeill, but if the Japanese is ANYTHING LIKE as beautiful (which I’m sure it is) then it’s gotta be something truly special.  Once again Hosoda has proven he really is one of the best filmmaking talents operating in anime today, and that if ANYONE could someday succeed the mighty Miyazaki as the new godfather then it’s GOTTA be him …

21.  THE GRAY MAN – Netflix ALWAYS seems happy to give us something heavyweight and undeniably fun to enjoy in the summer blockbuster season, and this is certainly one of their most ambitious offerings to date.  Seriously, they genuinely went ALL OUT with this one, poaching the Russo Brothers from the MCU after their ASTOUNDING tours of duty on two Captain America pictures AND the Avengers: Infinity War/Endgame double feature, as well as their 2020 gig writing and producing Netflix’ similarly impressive Chris Hemsworth action-vehicle Extraction.  Certainly you can see a lot of their strong connective tissue from those previous efforts to this hefty piece of work, which is an action cinema fan’s WET DREAM, but available to stream instead of showing on the big screen where it REALLY belongs … anyway, the Brothers have ONCE AGAIN teamed up with their favourite leading man Chris Evans, who this time gets to flex his frustratingly rarely-exercised BAD GUY muscles as gleefully narcissistic psychopath-for-hire Lloyd Hansen, the flamboyantly reptilian ex-CIA operative brought back into the fold to hunt down the film’s titular hero, a former convict-turned-CIA assassin known simply as Sierra Six (Ryan Gosling) who’s jumped the reservation after being tricked by corrupt Agency honcho Carmichael (Bridgerton’s Regé-Jean Page) into taking out his contemporary, Sierra Four (Captain America: The Winter Soldier’s Callan Mulvey).  Hansen immediately abducts Six’ retired handler and friend Fitzroy (Billy Bob Thornton) and his ailing daughter Claire (Once Upon a Time In Hollywood’s Julia Butters), the only two people in the world Six has left that he cares about, prompting the rogue agent to go on the warpath, leading Six and Hansen into a headlong clash of wills set to bury half of Europe in chaos.  This movie is EXACTLY what you’d expect from the Russos and Netflix – over two hours of blisteringly explosive and highly imaginative action and breathless plotting, dynamically shot by cinematographer Stephen F. Windon (Justin Lin’s regular collaborator on most of the Fast & Furious movies AND Star Trek Beyond) and scripted to within an inch of its life by Joe Russo and his regular co-writers Christopher Marcus and Stephen McFeely with an equal eye on overblown spectacle and sly humour that perfectly fits the film’s inherent ridiculousness.  The cast are certainly equal to the task – Thornton hasn’t had a role this great is AGES, he’s clearly having a blast in every one of his scenes, while Butters is incredibly endearing, and there’s further strong female presence in Gosling’s Blade Runner 2049 co-star Ana Di Armas as Dani Miranda, the operative that circumstance forces Six to team up with, and Iron Fist’s Jessica Henwick as Suzanne Brewer, Carmichael’s colleague who’s sent to try (and spectacularly fail) to keep Hansen under control, as well as a typically strong turn from Alfre Woodard as retired CIA bigshot Margaret Cahill, and Page makes for an enjoyably slimy, self-important Big Bad behind the scenes; of course the film really belongs to its two heavyweight leads – Gosling is an understated joy, bringing his laconic subtlety to bear to great effect as he matches Evans scene-for-scene while the ubiquitous former Marvel veteran has a whale of a time cutting loose without restraint in a blissfully unhinged turn that’s about as far removed from Steve Rogers as he could possibly get (I suspect he’s been waiting YEARS for a role where he could just UNLEASH like this, he’s clearly just having TOO MUCH fun).  Altogether this is about as perfect an action-fest as you could ask for in the summer blockbuster months, the Russo Brothers again proving they’re two undeniable MASTERS of the genre; thrilling, spectacular and unapologetically SILLY, and my one and only gripe about it would be that it really was a shame I didn’t get to enjoy it on the big screen.  WHERE IT REALLY BELONGS …

[sylvialovej]

Putin's Version of the Truth is the Truth

No other politician currently alive on this planet has expressed the Truth as clearly, simply and truthfully as Putin puts it in his video below. I have watched proof-packed documentaries, read documents, and heard professionals from all walks of life, completely independent from each other, speak in detail about each of the themes Putin touches on in his less than two minutes massage posted…

[jenni-tyler]

Watch now Women Talking for free

Watch now Women Talking for free

Die Aussprache ist ein US-amerikanischer Spielfilm von Sarah Polley aus dem Jahr 2022. Basierend auf dem gleichnamigen Roman von Miriam Toews erzählt das Drama von einem geheimen Treffen verschiedener Frauen aus einer abgeschieden lebenden Gemeinschaft, die sexuelle Übergriffe durch männliche Gemeindemitglieder anprangern. Die fiktionale Geschichte basiert auf realen Ereignissen einer mennonitischen Kolonie in Bolivien. Watch now

[freshmoviequotes]

White Noise (2022)

[ladyinwriting18]

Daydreaming During Class (Jack Gladney x You)

Summary: Jack doesn't appreciate when his students daydream during class, but perhaps he can find it in his heart to forgive you when he finds out exactly what you've been fantasizing about.

Words: 3,549

Warnings: Daddy kink, Dom/sub relationship, dry humping, teacher/student relationship, office sex, female orgasm. Author's Note: I love Jack Gladney's belly soooo here's a one shot about it.

Jack looks out onto the sea of faces that stare back at him with eyes filled with interest. They hang on his every word, thirsting for the knowledge he has. Expanding the minds of his students is like a high. It’s what attracted him to teaching in the first place.

His students are the moths and the lessons he teaches are the flames that draw them in.  

During lectures Jack tends to pace the length of his classroom, listening to the sounds of pencils scratching against paper and keeping a watchful eye for anyone who might have a question. Today is no different and that’s how he notices that you clearly are not paying attention.

He's seen that glazed look in your eyes before. Usually when your mind is wandering.

The college had a strict ‘no dating’ policy between facility and students, but Jack couldn’t help it when it came to you. You were charismatic, caring and loving.

All the things he craved after his most recent divorce.

Meeting you had been like stepping out into the sunlight, but getting to know you?

That had been like the beginning of Spring when the snow melts and flowers start to bloom.

After a lifetime’s worth of disappointments, Jack couldn’t stop himself from being selfish. So, the two of you started dating.

Or at least that’s what you called it. He was much too old to attempt to understand the nuances of courtship lingo. All Jack knows is that he has no plans on letting you go. You make him too happy for that.

Except for when you’re misbehaving.

Like now, when you’re clearly slacking off during class.

Jack looks at you from over the tops of his dark glasses with a disapproving look. He knows he shouldn’t stare at you so blatantly in the middle of a crowded room, but he expects all his students to take his class seriously. Just because the two of you are sleeping together doesn’t give you the right to daydream in the middle of a lesson.

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth and your cheeks flood with warmth.

Not because you’ve realized you’ve been caught.

No, this is something different.

Arousal.

You’re aroused and embarrassed by it.

The realization has Jack stumbling over his words—catching the attention of everyone in the room.

Including you.

Your eyes snap in his direction.

At least that caught your attention.

He gives you a stern look before addressing the rest of the class.

“Forgive me, us professors tend to become absent minded in our old age.”

They chuckle at his joke, accepting the lie with ease.

“Just you wait,” He continues to tease. “One day you’ll all wake up with hair growing out of your ears and spend most of your days wondering if you remember to turn the oven off before leaving the house.”

The laughter grows in volume but when Jack peeks over his shoulder in your direction, he finds you not joining in with your fellow students.

Good.

That means you know you’ve been caught, and your Daddy isn’t happy about it.

Jack grins and pushes his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

“Now where was I? Ah yes, who remembers who Eva Braun was?”

The rest of class flies by without interruption. Although you do look rather antsy now that you know what’s coming for you once the clock chimes.

When it does, Jack dismisses them and collectively they stand to leave. That’s when he calls out a list of names—including yours.

“Would the names of the students I just called stay behind for a moment? I have their papers graded.”

That isn’t lying. He does in fact have papers to return, just not yours. However, he still has you wait.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jack catches you fidgeting while he takes his sweet time talking to your fellow peers. He praises them and offers advice.

All while you stand there in suspense.

You’re obviously nervous but your Daddy knows you well enough to know that the anticipation turns you on.

In truth, it’s starting to turn Jack on as well.

So, when he’s finally finished talking to the last student, he stands and motions for you to come closer with a finger.

“Why don’t we speak in my office, so we won’t be interrupted?”

The blush on your cheeks brightens but still you nod.

“After you, my dear.”

Jack’s private office is connected to his classroom through a dark mahogany wood door with a golden plaque that has his name engraved into it. You’ve been inside many times before. Sometimes as a student but mostly as his lover. As dangerous as it is to be alone with you while on campus, the thrill of it is intoxicating. He loves coming up with new ways to keep you quiet while you bounce on his cock in his leather office chair.

Truth be told, you look rather pretty with your panties stuffed in your mouth.

You do as you're told and proceed into his office with Jack following behind you. He lets the door slam shut, allowing the sound to vibrate off the walls before reaching down to click the lock into place.

A shiver runs up your spine.

Jack wishes it was his tongue causing it. He pulls off the long black robe he wears while he teaches and hangs it back up in the coat closet. He takes his time with this, not even bothering to look at you when he speaks.

“So is my little girl going to tell me what she did wrong?”

You stutter, not forming a single coherent word.

Jack walks over to his desk and sits behind it. Your eyes are down casted towards the fingers that tug on the hem of your knee length skirt.

Fucking hell, were you deliciously dressed today.

“Come now. You must have a clue as to why I called you to my office.”

Your eyes flick to momentarily meet his eyes, but all too soon you look back down. “Be-….because I was daydreaming during class?”

“Clever girl.” Jack praises a bit sarcastically. “And what fantasy of yours was more important than my lecture, hm?”

You whimper at the accusation, “Nothing Daddy! I promise.”

“Daddy?”

Your face falls, the color draining from it.

“Daddy is what my good girl gets to call me. When students fuck around during my class, they refer to me as Professor Gladney. Is that understood?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Yes, what ?”

The bite in his tone has you instantly responding.

“Yes, Professor Gladney.”

Jack hums, “That’s better.” He points to the chair across from him, “Sit.”

You obey, though you seem to be trying to make yourself as small as possible.

He leans back in his chair. He has you like a worm on a hook—dangling in front of him pleading to be set free.

This game of cat and mouse isn’t one you two usually play but it’s starting to grow on him.

“I really am sorry, Professor Gladney. I swear it won’t happen again.”

Jack chuckles at your attempt at apologizing. As sweet as you look pleading, he wasn’t going to let you off that easily.

“Oh, I know it won’t be happening again. We’re going to make sure of it.”

“W-What do you mean?”

The grin that spreads across his features oozes cockiness, “Well, since you didn’t pay attention to my actual lesson. I think I have every right to teach you one now. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You only manage to nod.

“Excellent. First, I want you to tell me what you were daydreaming about.”

You squeeze your knees together as your shoulders bunch up around your ears. “Do…do I have to? It’s embarrassing.”

Jack can sense he might be pushing you too far. Perhaps he’s acted too stern for you to recognize that this is only a game. One that either of you can stop playing at any time.

Being your Dom didn’t mean he wants to intimidate you.

With a softened tone he calls your name. Only when you meet his gaze does he continue to speak.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed. I know my Princess very well and I could tell she was thinking about something naughty. ”

You looked surprised but also more at ease.

“You already know?”

Jack offers you a smile and nods, “Daddy just wants to hear about it.”

“Then you’re not angry?”

You sound so relieved that he can’t help but chuckle.

“I think all can be forgiven. Especially if my girl was thinking naughty things about Daddy.”

A blush blooms across the bridge of your nose to both cheeks.

“You were, weren’t you?” The mere thought leaves Jack breathless with his cock twitching within the confines of his dress pants.

You shyly nod. His mouth waters at the admission.

“Tell me about it, Princess.” You’re hesitant and self-conscious but slowly you open up. “Lately….whenever I see Daddy without his shirt on, I find myself staring at your stomach….wanting to um…touch it.” You pause to give him a look, checking to see any signs of disgust. When you find none you continue. “Today…during class I was imagining what it would be like to rub myself against it.” Jack raises a brow. Not in judgment but in curiosity.  “I’m not sure I understand?” You speak up, cutting him off from speaking. “Specifically rubbing my cunt against it.” It catches him by surprise. So much so that Jack doesn’t immediately respond. His mind is far too busy creating its own barrage of filthy images. Each one of them of you with your head thrown back as you cry out with abandon. 

“I…I hope Daddy won’t think that’s weird.” “Stand up.” “What? But why?” “You heard me, Little One. Stand up and go over to the couch.” You stand, although hesitantly. The steps you take reflect the uncertainty you’re feeling, but you would understand soon enough. 

He goes to stand directly behind you and nudges your temple with his nose so you tilt your head to give him better access to your ear. 

“It sounds like these fantasies have been plaguing my girl for quite some time. I’d be a pretty awful Daddy if I didn’t help to relieve you of them.” His words are a low rumble in your ear. They invade your senses in the same way he invades your space. One of his hands comes around to take hold of your hip. He digs his fingers in and tugs you back into his chest. You make the tiniest squeaking sound. Jack dips his head and chuckles against the crook of your neck. His hot breath has goosebumps rising to the surface of your skin. “Well, Princess? Should Daddy help you turn your fantasies into reality?”

You lean your back against his chest more, your body already melting into him. “Jack….do….do you really mean that?” Using the hand at your hip, he spins you around to face him. He smirks at you, the smugness rolls off him.  “I won’t have my favorite student fail my class over that needy cunt of hers.” He can tell his words have left you flustered but you do not argue. Slowly, Jack steps to the front of you and holds eye contact while stripping his clothes from his body. Your eyes dance, studying every bit of exposed flesh like artwork in a gallery being revealed.  Your attraction to him never fails to amaze. Any man would be lucky to have you, but somehow that lucky man is him. Jack stands naked before you except for the tinted glasses that he’s somehow forgotten to remove. He straightens his back, standing tall even with his cock only semi-hard. It’s still “soda can thick” as you tend to say. 

He isn’t as confident in his physique as he once was. Being older means your body unfortunately changes as it loses its youth. However, the fact that you find him irresistible makes Jack feel about ten years younger. “Does my girl want to take her clothes off too?” You nod and excitedly start tugging at the hem of your blouse. Jack’s hands snatch your hands into place. “Slower than that. Help make Daddy’s cock hard.” You smile timidly, knowing your eagerness is getting the better of you. So you slow down your movements so Jack can appreciate you. Every dimple and curve has him entranced. It isn’t long before all the blood runs south and hardens his cock. “Mmmhh, that’s a good girl. Look how hard you’ve made me.” One look and you throw your arms around his neck, locking your lips together. Both of your bodies pressed together while tongues tangle in a heated mess. Hands grope. Yours at his shoulders and biceps and his at your hips and ass. The two of you are practically dry humping as you stand there. It becomes apparent that if the two of you keep this up, he’ll have you screaming into the couch cushions while he’s balls deep inside you. Jack pulls his mouth away just long enough to say your name and halt your kisses. “We’re never going to be able to make your daydream come true if we keep this up.” You pout, looking dejected as if your balloon has just been popped. “But Daddy’s cock is already hard.” You bat your lashes, giving yourself a more doe-eyed appearance, “It needs me.” Laughter rumbles through Jack’s chest. Leave it to you to find a way to be disappointed over getting what you wanted in the first place. 

His hands cup the sides of your face and his thumbs caress the apples of your cheeks. “I want to give this to you.” He leans in to nip at your bottom lip with his teeth, “I love that you’ve been fantasizing about my body.” His voice drops, his words heavy with lust. “It turns Daddy on. And now? Now I want to make it real.”

His hands fall from your face as he takes a step back to sit on the couch. “It will probably be easier if I lay back huh?” With a nod you take a step forward. Your interest is peaked with wide eyes that linger at his stomach as Jack shifts onto his back. He can’t say he understands the fascination, and truthfully in his youth Jack used to be thinner. He once had a body that by society standards is more appealing.

Not that he intends to question your desires. If the roundness of his stomach is something you find sexually attractive then you could do whatever the hell you wanted with it. 

With Jack comfortably laying down, he holds out his hand to you.

Your nerves cause your movements to be awkward and stiff. He doesn’t dare rush you. This is new for the both of you and he wasn’t about to ruin it by being impatient. He is, however, more than thankful that he splurged on a larger and more comfortable couch for his office. Before his divorce, Jack had spent one too many nights opting to sleep on it instead of going home. You swing your leg over his body to straddle him and the past is forgotten. All the unpleasant memories of secrets and betrayal washed away because now there is only you….

Sitting atop him with your damp cunt against the swell of his stomach. “Jesus sweetheart, you’re already soaked.”

Whether you choose to ignore his comment or are simply too focused on his safety, he cannot say.

“A-Am….am I hurting you?” Jack shakes his head, “Not at all.” He rests both hands on your hips, “But I can feel how tense you are. Just relax.” “I’m worried I’ll….you know…squish you.” He bites back a laugh. He’s a whopping six feet tall, there was no physical way you could squish him. However, your concern is no less adorable. “Not possible, Little One.” With his hands at your hips he urges you to start moving. “Go on, let's see if we can live up to those expectations of yours.” You nod and brace your hands at his shoulders before slowly rocking yourself into him. Your mouth falls open in a tiny ‘o’ shape, gliding along him with ease from how wet you already are. Jack in awe of it, of how you seem to already be trembling. “Tell me…what about this has you so turned on?”  “You’re s-so handsome, so broad and tall. I want to love all of you. I want to worship it all.” You explain through shuddered breaths as you quicken the pace of your movements but never once stop speaking. “S-so that all of you can be mine.” Your words touch him beyond the physical realm. His cock leaks not only from how glorious you look but from the emotions that this fantasy of yours radiates from. Jack reaches up to lovingly cup your cheek, “Oh sweet girl but all of me is already yours. I love you, don’t you know that?” You nod, turning your head towards his palm and sloppy kiss it. “I love you too, Jack.”

Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving half moon imprints behind. Sweat beads along your hairline, your rubbing becomes more frantic. You’re panting, chest rising and falling in quick succession while your thighs spasm around the sides of his stomach. He knows what’s coming—has mesmerized the signs since that first time you let him play with your cunt in the back seat of his car. “That’s it, Princess.” He praises breathlessly, “Take what you need from Daddy.”

Jack feels his glasses slide down the bridge of his nose, annoyingly so, and to the point that they steal his attention away. He couldn’t have that. Nothing could distract him from watching his favorite thing….your orgasms.

Not wanting to spoil the moment, he quickly pushes them back into place.But still your brows furrow with mouth agape in an attempt to form words.

He recognizes your frustration and rubs soothing circles along your thighs. “What is it, sweetheart? What are you trying to tell me?” Even in the height of your pleasure, you find a way to get your point across. You reach for his glasses and snatch them off his face before tossing them onto the small side table beside the couch. Jack gives you a puzzled look. “Wanna see Daddy’s eyes.” You explain in a whine. He chuckles, hands returning to your waist and lets his fingers squeeze into your skin. “Look all you like, Princess. Watch Daddy not be able to take his eyes off of you while you rub that cunt on him.” Your breath catches in your throat. How could he have forgotten how much you love dirty talk? Still helping to guide your hips, Jack stares up at you and says the filthiest things he can think of. “Such a naughty girl, dripping all over her Professor's stomach. Poor thing can’t even pay attention in class because her cunt is too busy distracting her. Isn’t that right?” You merely nod until Jack delivers a light smack to your ass. “Yes Professor Gladney, that’s right! Need….need you to put my cunt in its place.” Jack grins, “I think you’ll find I already have. Since you’re currently smashing it against my stomach.” He swears he can hear your cunt clench after that–so he keeps going. “Is the naughty girl going to clean her mess when she’s done? You’ve covered my stomach in slick.” Gripping your waist he forces you to grind even harder against him so more stimulation is delivered to your clit, “And if I’m honest, Daddy has been dripping pre-cum for quite awhile now. Will you clean that too?” You clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle your cry. The friction of your throbbing clit against his belly has your toes curling. You’re just on the edge and Jack knows exactly how to push you over. 

“Go on. Show me. Show Daddy how you cum for him.” A few more rocks and your body tenses as your orgasm hits. You keep your hand to your mouth to lower the volume of your moans. If the two of you were at home, he would have ripped your hand away, releasing your song from behind the cage of your fingers. Your once hurried movements turn sluggish until you’re done riding out your high. Jack enjoys every second of it–looking up at you like a goddess. As much as he enjoyed cumming with you, nothing tops giving you pleasure. Your eyes flutter, fighting to stay open. Not wanting you to fall, he takes hold of your elbows and tugs you down to his chest. You’re so sated from your orgasm that you sink into him. Jack’s fingers stroke the trail of your spine as you catch your breath. “You didn’t get to cum.” You almost sound sad, he can’t help but wrap you in a tight hug before pressing his lips to your forehead. “Does my Princess want to fix that for Daddy?” You tilt your head to meet his gaze and holding it, “Yes Professor Gladney, or else I’ll end up daydreaming in class again tomorrow.”

[kaipanzero]

White Noise (2022)

[thephooka]

"A toast to making it through." Happy New Year, everyone.

[elvismentions]

White Noise (2022) dir. Noah Baumbach

[cloudyfacewithjam]

[hollywood-fashion]

Jodie Turner-Smith in Gucci at the Venice Film Festival photocall for White Noise on August 31, 2022.