#xander berkeley

[scenesandscreens]

Gattaca (1997)

Director - Andrew Niccol, Cinematography - Sławomir Idziak

"For someone who was never meant for this world, I must confess I'm suddenly having a hard time leaving it. Of course, they say every atom in our bodies was once part of a star. Maybe I'm not leaving... maybe I'm going home."

[tourneurs]

“Let’s throw away every negative, destructive thought we might have.”

Safe (1995) dir. Todd Haynes

[badmovieihave]

Bad movie I have Poison Ivy 1992 ,Poison Ivy 2 (1996 ), and Poison Ivy: The New Seduction

[haveyouseenthisseries-poll]

[profwonderbearthementalista]

Mentalist Mondays - Week 25

Spoilers below the cut...

Jane Meeting Red John

Collage 1: Patrick Jane meeting Timothy Carter (fake Red John) in Strawberries and Cream Part 2 3x24.

Collage 2: Patrick Jane meeting Sheriff Thomas McAllister (real Red John) in Red John 6x08.

Both scenes are stunningly acted by Simon Baker, Bradley Whitford and Xander Berkeley.

@lightningzombie, @feministjane, @backgroundagent3, @adder24, @magicandmaybe

@catnuns, @stxrdust-widow, @jisbonsaga, @wildwildtarget

[notforemmetophobes]

The Killing Jar (1997) - M. Emmet Walsh 

I too would like to sneak up behind Walsh and leave something in his gut.

Not a knife like this guy. My goo.

[photoset #2 of 2]

[loisfreakinglane]

NIKITA || 1.01 “Pilot”

[abs0luteb4stard]

W ⋀ T C H I N G

[horrorcrypt12]

31 Day Horror Challenge:

Day 11: Tony Todd

Now Watching: Candyman (1992)

"The Candyman, a murderous soul with a hook for a hand, is accidentally summoned to reality by a skeptic grad student researching the monster's myth"

Happy Halloween!

@nightmareonfilmstreet

[frc-ambaradan]

Lol! Sorry, Moff, but Thrawn never cared to participate in any meeting in his life 🤣🤣

[nerds-yearbook]

After 5 seasons of 82 episodes, the last episode of the Incredible Hulk aired on May 12, 1982. The series, based on the format of The Fugitive (1963 - 1967), continued on in a series of TV movies that were each failed back door pilots (The Incredible Hulk Returns - 1988, The Trial of the Incredible Hulk - 1989, and The Death of the Incredible Hulk - 1990). ("A Minor Problem", The Incredible Hulk, TV Event)

[ivebeentotheforest]

Sid and Nancy - 1986 - Dir. Alex Cox

Japanese B2 Poster

[erstwhile-punk-guerito]

[scholarofgloom]

[zhnnveuxpasdrmir]

Trying to explain that this quiet, braided anthology of short-short, thought variant, actor driven one-offs is a must-see breakthrough teleplay, a timeless masterpiece!, a work of explicable magic.

I was one of the six people in the world that actually saw this in 2010, but I'd only caught a few bits of it at the time. They were arresting as hell. It's exciting to finally get a chance to appreciate it now, due to the grisly stupidity of all corporate media conglomerates, and the ease of getting high quality archives of unfairly treated past media anonymously on the dark web, along with heroin and guns! 😁

I liked how The Booth At The End examines the fallacies inherent to popular reads of morality, and somehow criticizes specific religious cultures without once mentioning any of them, or admitting to any particular central framework by name. The script is rooted in widely understood monotheist ethics.

It's unrepentant, dour, merciless, and openly, loudly, glaringly deceptive in its candor.

Xander Berkeley. Holy shit. was just unbelievably powerful on this show. Every actor turns in a lifetime achievement award worthy scene, but mr Berkeley is just: setting your disbelief aside, so casually! You believe. The unthinkable is thoroughly plausible in these weency, handy little scenes that.... feel longer. You'll think it was an hour. It was like six minutes.

I don't know fully why this isn't a better known show! Maybe it's too hard to face. If you have an interest in the craft of acting, in show, this little one-sitting binge demonstrates expert theatrical film making.

And these goddamn endings will fuck you up for life!

so here's my theory on the Man, Doris, and the doom of human kind:

oh he's certainly not the Devil. He's a creation of G-D though for sure. As is Doris.

If he has to be a specific character from the stories, he's The Christ, not exactly The Messiah, but something a lot more like christian Jesus if he'd lived on since Resurrection, only through a magical realism lens instead of a worshipful one. The Man is aware of what G-D is, knows it's not what humans think it is. Some say "the wandering Jew" but no: this is not and never was a human.

if Doris has to be a specific character from the stories, she's Satan, or a fallen angel, but let's be real, G-D's ex-favorite, luring the new boy away from G-D's detachment, and into "the trap". I don't agree with the above article in thinking it ended too soon, it ends exactly where it should, where it has to.

because that demand Doris makes is real, and it's one that our planet's conception of G-D has always, always failed. She's right to state this demand, and the Man must comply. Both of them will be literally destroyed by the task. This is shown over and over in both seasons.

The Booth At The End is a genius series of stage teleplays that criticizes flaws in popular conceptions of G-D, how it distorts our perceptions, and how those distort our experience of need. Each "normal" character symbolizes a specific 'mistake' or foible; each supernatural character represents an attempt, by 'history' ambition institution or spiritual quest, to understand and eliminate those errors. The two seasons are a diptych demonstrating respectively How and Why we are trapped forever in a Hell of our own device. 🌞❤️

[twittercomfrnklin2001-blog]

Safe

Wikipedia calls Todd Haynes’ SAFE (1995, DVD) a psychological horror film, while the IMDb lists it simply as a drama. To me it also has elements of high comedy, albeit a fairly wintery one. Carol White’s (Julianne Moore) development of an undisclosed illness disrupts the carefully sculpted lives of her upper-middle-class cohorts. It queers their socially sanctioned domesticity, which reflects one of the basic conflicts of the horror film. At the same time, her character, a woman who’s been raised to be the object of someone else’s life and has neither thoughts nor words of her own, could be viewed as a horror. Her body becomes the monster rebelling against social repression.

Moore lives in a world of peach and teal, as well as numerous chemicals, from the automobile exhaust on the Southern California streets and freeways to the sprays and cleaners her housekeeper uses right next to the family’s food. When she starts feeling ill, she can’t describe her symptoms concretely because she has no words of her own. So, her husband and friends view her malaise as an annoyance, and her doctor decides she needs a psychiatrist. Then she sees a sign offering support services for people with multiple chemical sensitivity and not only attends sessions but also moves to a New Age community in the desert that’s as rigidly structured and unforgiving as the suburban life she’s had to escape. The guru (Peter Friedman) teaches the residents their medical and mental problems all stem from lack of self-love. But how can Moore love a self that doesn’t exist?

Haynes does his best to distance us from Moore’s character. There are very few closeups in the film, and he times scenes to throw in a dash of absurdity at the end. When Carol’s husband (Xander Berkeley) has sex with her with no regard for her needs, she finishes the encounter by patting him on the shoulder. Friedman makes big pronouncements about learning not to blame others for your problems, but then Haynes undercuts him with a cheesy group sing or a reaction shot from Carol’s visiting stepson, who can clearly see what he’s full of. And just to make sure you don’t miss the point, there’s a quick shot of Friedman’s home, a mansion in the hills looking down on the cheap cabins where the paying customers stay. Haynes also has an uncanny sense of detail.  The suburban houses, all in in the same colors, seem to have been decorated impersonally (a friend in the catering business has said that some of his richest clients simply hired people to fill their homes with objects that had no personal meaning to them). And Carol’s move from her suburban world to the support groups and retreat is reflected in the change from women around her who look like dolls — all with similar hair, dresses and makeup — to women who look like human beings, with faces and bodies society would view as imperfect.

Moore’s characterization is conceptual. She speaks in a high-pitched, breathy voice and keeps her eyes wide open. But she also manages to live within those technical choices. At times she seems to be giving Shelly Duvall’s best performance. There’s also gemlike supporting work from Friedman, Kate McGregor-Stewart as the retreat’s enthusiastic administrator, Jessica Harper as a fellow patient dealing with her young son’s death, Mary Carver as a resident angry about her husband’s death and James Le Gros as a resident who’d like to break the retreat’s no-sex rule with Moore. The film is a trifle too long. Haynes makes all the points we need about Carol’s home environment and then keeps going. And some critics found the ending too ambiguous. I thought it was a fascinating capper to the way Carol can only express ideas she’s already received. It may be the film’s most horrifying moment.