#yeah this is palme d'Or

[chpalyana]

I'm nostalgic for my 2018

[arabella-interstellar]

TRIANGLE OF SADNESS (2023) made me very very very happy!

“H&M advertisements: You can be part of this mixed skin-coloured group and not for that much money. #everyonesequal #friendship #happylife #climatechange”… No, this is not a joke. Well, yeah it actually kind of is. But it is also one of the first lines said in the opening scene of ´Triangle of Sadness´ (2022), which perfectly illustrates the overall mood carried out for the rest of the movie. The movie is known for its eight-minute standing ovation during the 75th Cannes Film Festival while receiving the Palme d'Or award, and an award from my humble self for one of the best movies of 2022. Triangle of Sadness goes much deeper than saying: “EAT THE RICH!”. It is a sarcastic satire of elitism´s greed through a tripartite symbolic narrative structure, full of ridiculously genius editing and dialogues If you´re not already drooling all over this movie, then I don´t think we can be friends.

The narrative of Triangle of Sadness is divided into three parts: Carl & Yaya, The yacht, and The island. In the first part, Carl & Yaya, we are introduced to the two main characters who are both models, in a romantic relationship. Yaya is spoiled, fake, and theatrical, while also managing to be boringly predictable. While in Carl, I could feel a hint of intelligence and a sense of human decency, which makes it hard for him to navigate his own life in such an artificial environment as the world of fashion.

In the second part, The Yacht, the couple gets an invitation to join super-rich people on a cruise and promote it on their social media. During this part, we are introduced to many characters, the richer the more outrageously despicable; some of them exceeding humanity, becoming caricatures impersonating their social class. Triangle of Sadness is fabulously disgusting just like the people it tries to portray. During a dinner party, the yacht sails into a roaring storm, which leads most of the passengers to get horribly sick, and you can bet that the director didn´t spare us the details of their sickness. The scene is 18 minutes long and it´s so disturbingly poetic you just can´t take your eyes off of it. The passengers are vomiting and (I will say this politely) having involuntary bowel movements, while being thrown all around the boat as it crashes huge waves. The only calm ones are the captain, Thomas Smith, and Russian oligarch, Dimitry, who are both drunk and broadcasting their dialogue about capitalism and communism around the whole ship. Soon it turns purely into a monologue of the drunken captain that lasts all night. He is on his knees, saying stuff like “You´re rich so you´re a philanthropist, so you can clear your conscience for not paying enough in tax, not contributing enough to the society…”  in a preach-like tone, his omnipresent voice is carried throughout the ship letting them know that there are paying for their sins. I daresay, this might even be one of the best movie scenes ever. When the sun goes up, pirates attack the ship, while killing most of the passengers and crew.

Those who survive end up shipwrecked on an island, where the last part of the movie starts.  Carl, Yaya, and Dimitry survived with a few others. Abigail, who worked at the ship as a cleaning lady asserts authority due to her survival skills, creating a form of matriarchy, while also coercing Carl into a sexual relationship. Yaya and Abigail venture on a hike around the island because of the escalating tension just to find a lift near a luxury resort. Yaya thinks that they´re saved, but Abigail sneaks behind her with a furious facial expression and a huge rock in her hands, indicating she will kill Yaya. This cuts into the last scene, where Carl is running for his life through a jungle, while upbeat non-diegetic music is playing behind. And that is the end folks.

Gosh, this movie is so good, not only narrative-wise but the way it was carried out. The long takes are filled with immaculate dialogues (and that one unforgettable monologue), each different, but playing into the overall film´s narrative. The genius editing style that deepens the hilarious stupidity of the rich people, like in the scene where the ship´s manager gets asked by an old rich lady why the ship's sails are dirty, they should´ve been washed, but it´s a motor ship, thus it doesn´t have any sails, and the manager just stares in silence, and boom you have a cut as if to highlight that there truly is nothing more to add to that… Or the highly sarcastic usage of music, like death metal playing while the rich passengers are fighting for their lives on their toilets, classical music when they´re struggling to survive on the island, or the final brutally unsettling scene with upbeat sounds. Triangle of Sadness perfectly reflects the insanity of capitalism and consumerism from the beginning till the end.

Also, going a bit underneath the polished surface of the movie got me thinking if the symbolism of “triangle” goes much deeper than just being randomly chosen as the name from one of the first lines of the movie (when Carl is told by a modeling agent to relax his” triangle of sadness”, to look more available). The symbolism of the triangle and the number three cannot be accidental! It could be pointing to the Holy Trinity (the father, the son, and, in this case, the house of Balenciaga lol), the basic classes introduced in the Marxist theory (bourgeoisie, proletariat, petite bourgeoisie), the Buddhism concept of Trimurti (the creator, the preserver and the destroyer), the triads in philosophy (thesis, antithesis, and synthesis), and many more, of all which in comparison to the narrative all make sense… This paragraph is just a food for thought for you dear reader, since I have 13 minutes till the deadline of this review:).

“Can you relax your triangle of sadness? The space between your eyebrows… and open your mouth so you will look a bit more available… okay, not that much… a bit less… okay, thank you… NEXT!” Triangle of Sadness isn´t just a movie (it´s also the space between your eyebrows); it´s also a rollercoaster ride through the absurdity of our times, with a side of biting satire and a dollop of dark humor, served on a golden plate, just to be devoured by me in a blink of an eye! GO AND WATCH IT!

Random observational side question: why does Woody Harrelson always has unhinged characters with drinking problems?

[thegeneralreturns]

If I Had to Rank the Best Picture Nominees

From worst to first...

10. TRIANGLE OF SADNESS - Of the seemingly never-ending buffet of 2022 movies that had a hate boner for the rich, the Academy selected the one that wasn't as entertaining as The Menu, wasn't as righteous as Glass Onion, and wasn't as straight-the-fuck-up mean as Bodies Bodies Bodies. But it was obvious and trite enough for most third graders to lose patience with, and it's the English language debut of an esteemed Swedish director. So here, have a Best Picture nomination. Oh, and a Palme d'Or!

9. ALL QUIET ON THE WESTERN FRONT - To watch the 2022 All Quiet on the Western Front is to miss the hell out of the 1930 version. Even ninety-three years after its debut, Lewis Milestone's classic is a stark and primal thing that laid the groundwork for depicting combat on film. So no matter how good this new version's intentions are (and director Edward Berger's intentions are indeed very good), we're still watching kids play dress up. All sheen and no impact.

8. ELVIS - It was one of the internet's favorite hobbies this past year to flip Tom Hanks an ungodly amount of shit for his garish performance as this film's Colonel Tom Parker. And yeah, he's terrible, but given the rest of the movie around him, could you really say he was wrong? Baz Luhrmann likes to make glitzy and over-the-top fairy tales with sad endings, and that kind of broad artifice is part of the game. The problem with Elvis is that in the middle of it is Austin Butler's gritty, realistic, and quite frankly brilliant method performance. He doesn't fit in. That, or the movie can't contain him. I'd have liked to have seen the movie Butler thought he was in. I'd have liked to have seen the movie Luhrmann was trying to craft around him. I don't think I got either.

7. AVATAR: THE WAY OF WATER - The first hour is great, the third hour is terrific, but the second hour goes all in on a shapeless nature documentary about the seafaring N'avi. That sounds good on paper, but... wait, if James Cameron's writing something, it doesn't sound good on paper either. I can't say I disliked the film, no one can do big quite like Cameron, but I saw it with all the 3D Imax bells and whistles. Once that avenue of consumption is non-viable, I don't see this film working all that well dramatically.

6. TAR - Boy, Todd Field really wanted to make a Kubrick film, didn't he? It's all there, from the deep-focus shots of clean environments, to the low rumble on the soundtrack that portends dread in every scene. Hell, Field even got Kubrick's habit of taking decades in between films down pat. If I don't seem as up-with-people about Cate Blanchett's performance as everyone else, it's because it's part of the machinery. So was Nicholson in The Shining. They're both brilliant performances, but they're not the kind of brilliant you notice on the first viewing. Field wanted to make a Kubrick movie, and for two hours of the 154 minute runtime, he got closer than any of his contemporaries ever have. The problem here is, if Field wants to make a movie to The Old Master's Standard, then he's going to need to live up to The Old Master's Standard. Kubrick would not have gotten away with having a character we've never seen before come in, baldly state the main character's arc as though we were children who needed to get it, and then vanish. This previously spellbinding film never recovers after that, leading to a third act that just... feels... gross. I just think it's weird that while a certain other Best Picture nominee is getting all due credit for its Asian representation, Tar depicts its lead's personal and professional rock bottom as having to actually live in Asia.

5. TOP GUN: MAVERICK - Unlike Avatar, which needed a theatrical experience the price of a small yacht to work, I watched Top Gun: Maverick on my TV, and thought it was just dandy. Tom Cruise threw hundreds of millions of dollars at the screen to convince us that fighter jets were cool. And he was right, too, fighter jets are fuckin' rad. A simple (some might even say "paint-by-numbers") story that's old as the hills subtly lays the groundwork needed for a final half hour that's the tightest, best edited, most well-constructed third act to an action movie I've seen since... Jesus, A New Hope? The more I think about this movie, the more I like it. And this is coming from someone who hated the first one.

4. WOMEN TALKING - How did this movie get the reputation as "The Vegetables" of this crop of nominees, and not Triangle of Sadness, which is so tediously pretentious as to have a Russian capitalist and an American communist drunkenly screeching quotes at each other? Women Talking is about the women in a Mennonite colony reckoning with their sexual assault by the men in their community, and deliberating on whether to stay at that colony, or to leave, and director Sarah Polley deserves all the credit in the world for both making this cinematic, and actually finding moments of levity and recognition. These are women who have undergone something terrible, yes, but they are also women who have history and get on each others' nerves. Their kids screw around in the barn and play jokes on each other. It doesn't sound like much, but it matters a great deal, as through this, we see what these women are potentially giving up by leaving. It's these moments at the periphery that makes the core all the more devastating.

3. THE FABELMANS - I've seen accusations that The Fabelmans is Steven Spielberg mythologizing himself, but that's grossly unfair. This is America, and we did it first. If anyone even slightly interested in film history laid down the tracks for him, then why can't Spielberg drive the train? This is a thinly-veiled, genuinely moving, and wonderfully entertaining Roman a clef of his own life packed with terrific performances, and when the aliens get here in a thousand years after we've blown ourselves to bits, and they ask for evidence that Seth Rogen can act, at least we can say we have it. It's humble without being self-lacerating, and it's the fun kind of meta instead of the irritating kind. Speaking of which, kudos to Spielberg for giving us the funniest and most satisfying final shot since Knives Out.

2. THE BANSHEES OF INISHERIN - I've rarely seen a comedy that left me this unsettled. Or a tragedy that made me laugh so much. Colin Farrell has never been better as a man on an Irish island in the 1920s whose preoccupation with his own image as a nice guy threatens to engulf all of the things and people he ever loved, from his sister, to his friend that doesn't want to talk to him anymore, to his pet donkey. If Everything Everywhere All At Once was the Zoomer ignition point for the kind of nihilism that engenders all-encompassing love and radical hope, then The Banshees of Inisherin feels like this ancient force of queasy malevolence that doesn't give a shit about placidity or empty gestures.

In any other year, I'd call The Banshees of Inisherin the best in show with a smile, and go on my merry way. However two guys named Daniel found out how to activate God mode.

And the best picture of the Best Pictures is...

EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE ALL AT ONCE - How many times in a given year--Hell, in a given decade--do we see a film that earnestly and actively tries to be the best ever made? People want to communicate, or they want to make money, but Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert throw the immigrant experience, kung fu fights, generational trauma, the multiverse, nihilistic despair, butt plugs, and the ebbs and flows of the mother-daughter bond at each other at relativistic speeds in an effort to go down in history. And Holy Hell, it worked! Far from cancelling each other out, these disparate elements cohere into a tear-jerking, mind-blowing, thrilling whole. It's not the actual, literal best movie ever made, but I wouldn't dream of knocking anyone for being taken with how close The Daniels got, because by God I'm taken with it too. I've seen everyone and their mom point at any number of reasons as to why this film reached so many people in the way that it did, but maybe, just maybe, Everything Everywhere All at Once blew up because we haven't seen this kind of ambition in a long, long time. It feels good to see. And we want more.

[boasamishipper]

The only awards show I am genuinely curious about outside of the Oscars is the BAFTAs since Tom is basically an honorary British weirdo now.

yeah if tom ends up winning a bafta and an honorary palme d'or before the academy gives him an oscar, i think hollywood will sink into the ocean from humiliation

[chaussetteblanche]

stepping on toes

pairing : austin butler x gn!reader summary : after talking about each other without ever meeting, you and austin finally run into each other at the cannes festival

You were at the premiere of your latest movie, lights and camera blinding you as you moved your way along the red carpet. "Y/N ! Y/N !" People were calling your name left and right, hoping you would look their way for a picture or answer a question. You stopped near a woman on your right. "Y/N, how're you feeling tonight ?" she asked quickly. You smiled, running a hand through your hair. "Good, thank you ! I'm exited to finally be here," She asked you a few questions about the movie before asking one last thing. "The movie Elvis is about to come out, do you have anything to say about the lead actor Austin Butler ?" she asked, moving her microphone closer to your lips. "Uh, yeah, I think Austin's an incredible actor. Baz couldn't have picked a better person to play Elvis Presley, I don't think anyone else could do it," you smiled. "Right, thank you so much, Y/N," "Thank you, have a nice evening," You walked off with a wave.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Austin ! Austin ! Have you seen Y/N's new movie ?" a journalist asked over the sound of the crowd. Austin stopped and turned around, running a hand through his hair. "Oh, I've seen it alright. It's spectacular," he complimented, adjusting his suit. "Have you ever thought of working with Y/N ?" "In a movie ? Oh wow, I mean, I'd love to, they're incredibly talented. I think we could do something good together,"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So, Austin Butler said in an interview a few weeks ago that he would love to work with you in a movie, what do you think about that ?" "He did ? Oh wow, uh, I don't know. I'm very flattered, obviously." Your cheeks turned pink. God, you hoped the cameras wouldn't pick up on it. "I think we could definitely arrange something, I'd love to work with him as well," You held yourself back from saying anything else, knowing the internet was already full of compilations of Austin and you complimenting each other in interviews and such.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You stepped out of your car at the Cannes Festival, you brilliant outfit glimmering with the flashes of the cameras surrounding you. Your name was being called from everywhere and you gratefully took the hand of your security guard, Billy, as you stepped out of the car. He helped ground you a bit as you made your way to the famous stairs. He let go before you reached the steps and sent you a reassuring smile. You smiled back, trying to calm your head as you started going up the steps, stopping every once in a while and striking a pose.

You finally reached the entrance of the building and found a few of your friends. Your latest movie was in competition for the Caméra d'Or and the Queer Palm. Needless to say you were feeling pretty nervous. You happily accepted a glass of champagne when you were offered one. After your first screening, you decided to go to the bathroom to freshen up.

Staring at your reflexion in the mirror, you added a touch of lipstick and smiled at yourself. You stepped back out of the bathroom, into the small living room and greeted a few celebrities you knew. As you opened the main door, you were met with a crowd of journalists all aiming their microphones and cameras at you. You were suddenly blinded by flashes of light and deafened by the cries of your names and questions. You stepped backwards out of reflex and were horrified to find another person's foot beneath your own. You immediately retracted your foot and spun around to come face to face or rather face to chest with none other than Austin Butler.

You were caught in the momentum for a second. All you could feel was him. His minty breath on your face. His hand on your ribcage. The smell of his perfume. The warmth of his body. His eyes boring into your own. Your breath caught in your throat as you forgot the world around you. His eyes flitted down to your lips and your heart stopped for a second before reality came crashing back. Screams and flashes crashed upon you like tsunamis. It all felt like a big slap to the face.

"Shit, I'm so sorry, are you alright ?" you asked worriedly, touching his arm. Austin nodded. "I'm fine, no worries, love," he chuckled. He eyes flitted to the paparazzi behind you and he frowned. "Let's get outta here, yeah ?" He leaned down to speak in your ear. You nodded.

You stepped out of the bathroom, shielding your eyes with your hand. You felt the warmth of his hand on the small of your back as you followed the wall, slowly making your way back to the main room, in which the paparazzi weren't allowed. You heard the yells of security as they pushed all the paparazzi back outside and let out a breath.

You turned to Austin and found him already looking at you. You thought back to you stepping on his foot. "I'm so sorry for stepping on you," you winced, looking down at his black shoes. "It's all right, I should've been looking where I was going. And you were caught by surprise," he smiled reassuringly. "I'm Austin, by the way," he stuck his hand out. "Oh, I know who you are, Mr. Butler," you chuckled, shaking his hand. "Y/N," "I know who you are as well, Y/N Y/L/N," he grinned, blue eyes twinkling wonderfully.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So, you finally met Y/N Y/L/N last week at the Cannes film festival. A picture of you two staring at each other went viral. What can you say about that ?" the interviewer asked. Austin ran a hand through his hair, trying not to smile to widely at the thought of you. "Uh, yeah, no, it was great to finally meet them. They're a lovely person. Intelligent and kind, as well as beautiful," he grinned. "Do you think you'll ever get the chance to work with them in the future ?" "Oh, I think we'll be able to do more than just work together," he chuckled.

[bisluthq]

Funny how some anons always use "negative" examples to say that Swiftwyn is going to break up soon and always ignore all other examples, like: "This couple has been happy and in love for 25 years??? Okay, but this other couple ONLY stayed together for 10 years so this will happen to Swiftwyn..." This is the same energy as Joe's antis celebrating some tweets dragging TSAN while the film was receiving critical acclaim and becoming one of the favorite films to win the Palme d'Or

The thing is it’s perfectly possible to be together for fucking 40 years even and then fall out of love and get divorced or split up. Shit happens. We can’t predict the future. But normal people don’t look at super stable longterm relationships and go “so this is gonna end any minute now” because that’s just not… reasonable?

A harsh but reasonable take would be “I don’t think Calvin and Vick will make it down the aisle - they’ve moved much too fast and the sketchy timeline means they’re not serious about one another.” That’s like speculation and celeb gossip based on idk objective reality. It mightn’t be true, but like yeah they moved fast and the timeline is sketch.

A harsh but true take would be “I think Calvin will eventually cheat on Vick because he always does.” That’s speculation because maybe he’s changed but idk man he’d have to prove it to me.

Saying “Joe will get tired of Taylor and dump her soon” non stop for six years is not speculation and it’s not based in shared reality. It’s just manifestation because you want her miserable.

[spanishskulduggery]

Kinda late but I'm Colombian and Metástasis was bad. It was a flop, as far as I know. Some good shows from my country (though mostly telenovelas) would be Aguas Mansas (6/10 in my opinion, especially if you're not into the whole genre), Betty la Fea (HUGELY recommended though only if you like corporate middle/low class drama), ¿Dónde está Elisa? was pretty good, kinda short like a miniseries (8/10), and Café con Aroma de Mujer (a huge success in its time). As for movies (1/3)

Pájaros de Verano, El Abrazo de la Serpiente, Los Colores de la Montaña and Los Viajes del Viento are good (though they are VERY regional depending on the part of the country they're about and you might not be hooked or might not understand the context). La Estrategia del Caracol is a classic (I think mostly understandable for foreign people), Rosario Tijeras is mostly about poor and drug culture (lol). (2/3)

Also for another series there's Los Pecados de Inés de Hinojosa, with some kinda controversial themes (lesbians in the 80s) and I think that's it. I'm not sure if they can all be that interesting or if they are, um, xenologically relatable (?). So yeah, this got longer than intended, phew. Sorry for venting on niche topics about a single phrase you wrote previously but! Some of the movies got nominated for Palme d'Or (I guess?) So yeah (3/3)

[scaryfairybg]

Just watched “Elephant” for a first time and wow...this was disappointing.

I don’t blame the actors, since for most, if not all, of them this is a first role, but man, the writing, the “effects”, they were just incredibly lame.

So, this one dude, in front of the door, gets shot in the stomach and dies immediately, but wait, there’s more! We never see the entrance wound or at least blood coming out of it, we only see a puddle once he is on the floor. You think that’s it? No! Later on, we see this exact same door, the blood splatter is somewhere near the top of the door, and oh man, his stomach wasn’t there, no, not at all. Oh, yeah, and of course there is no body, once we are in this room again.

Almost forgot, and these dude’s classmates and teacher are like “Hey, come on Nate, come on get up”while is is lying in a puddle of his own blood....I mean....wtf xD

How did this movie  won both the Palme d'Or and the director's prize at the Cannes Film Festival?!?!?!?!? It was ridiculously bad! 

[thebittervampire]

Not sure to understand: monsters have always been ways to speak about taboos, so of course it uses some concepts that well raised people don't usually talk about (especially during around the 80s), but I think you 'overfocus' on some details that keep you from seeing way beyond.

Like about queerness. Freddy Krueger as a queer? He's a pedophile, not queer, that 'queerness' you mention, I think, is only in the second film and it's more the freedom of sexuality, like in Hellraiser: it's like defying authority (I mean... they kill as a f*** hobby).

About being different (may it be physical or mental), sure, some parallels may seem blunt. But that's it: those parallels are rough, and only if you think about them literally. You mention Michael Myers, Samuel Loomis is his psychiatrist, so yeah, first thought: Michael Myers is mentally ill. But when you dig it: Samuel Loomis is totally unable to heal this patient, worst, it seems he takes advantage of this case to become famous, to turn Myers into some Devil. Is he right? Is he wrong? This is fiction, and Michael Myers is indeed evil (and Loomis isn’t really clean). No mental illness is explained or anything. Because it’s not real and can’t be.

Sure, like you said, "it has a very real effect on how we view things", but this is an old problem: some people, really stupid, will think only mentally ill people can stab them when in fact they have much more chances to be killed by a loved one (and totally healthy, just bad). If we worry about all those stupid people, then let's stop fiction (may it be romance, may it be comedy), because they'll never learn the difference.

But in the end, the most important thing I think you forgot: Freddy, Jason, Michael Myers, Pinhead, Leatherface and so many more... why do they all have so many movies? Why are they so iconic? Because they're loved. For being evil, for being different, for bringing what old society tried to ignore.

For some people, 'monster' isn't an insult, it's a privilege, it's because we're weird that we can face the world. And we're allowed to love every monster in horror movies because it's fiction. They don't represent a deformity, an illness or something precise: they represent difference, freedom, darkness.

Like Julia Ducournau said when she won the Palme d'Or: 'thank you for letting the monsters in', because it's so important to admit we like horror in art and in the most fictional way.

okok Serious Post Time for the horror community (i have. a lot of thoughts and would like to write them down)

most of this is through the lens of classic horror but it carries over to other subgenres

here’s the thing about horror. it sets itself up for demonizing stuff so readily, be it physical appearance (freddy krueger, jason vorhees, etc), queerness (freddy krueger etc), mental health (too many to count. in terms of The Big Ones michael myers is probably the best example but think how many horror villains are Scary Psychopaths) and anything else you can think of

more than other genres horror has such incredible power when it comes to negative portrayals of anything, but my main thought i want to get across is about the way we handle the genre and its media

because you can’t just write this stuff off as irrelevant since although it’s fiction, it has a very real effect on how we view things that has to be acknowledged both as a community and on a personal level

but i’m also not gonna argue for throwing out the whole genre or even the offending content. i’m a big fan of classic horror myself and a lot of other people are too

so my main point is be conscious of all this and be critical of media and the way you consume it, and like. educate yourself, yknow??

if anyone has anything to add please feel free, just wanted to like. write some stuff down

[lynchgirl90]

KYLE MACLACHLAN FLIRTS WITH THE DARKNESS  #TwinPeaks 

David Lynch's most reliable guide reveals that Twin Peaks will never end, because everything is Twin Peaks.

BY

TYLER COATES

SEP 3, 2017

I am standing outside the Soho House in Manhattan when I get a text from an unknown number. "Hey Tyler. Kyle here. I'm on the sixth floor at the end of the room. (Walk towards the light! 😆) See you soon."

KYLE MACLACHLAN JUST TEXTED ME.

I stand in place for a moment. I take a breath.

Kyle MacLachlan just texted me a joke and he used an emoji.

My reply, which takes entirely too much time to compose, is simply to tell him I'll see him upstairs soon. He writes back: "Cool 👍" And I immediately picture FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper, the character he played on Twin Peaks (and is playing—sort of—on Twin Peaks: The Return) giving an ecstatic thumbs-up on the original iteration of the series.

I'm aware that I'm slightly nervous as I walk through the sixth floor restaurant. Meeting a famous person is nerve-racking! And MacLachlan is a big deal in my brain, maybe because I've been consumed all summer with Twin Peaks: The Return, David Lynch's revival of his cult classic TV series on which MacLachlan starred in its two-season run from 1990 to 1991. Maybe it's because MacLachlan is, let's face it, a very handsome man. He's also less foreboding in person than on television. His hair is a little messy rather than perfectly combed in place and shellacked with pomade; the collar on his navy polo shirt slightly popped in a breezily unkempt manner, as if he's on a late-summer vacation. (He lives not far from here in Manhattan.)

And maybe my nervousness is why I immediately bring up Blue Velvet, his second movie ever, and his second collaboration with David Lynch. I mention that I saw the movie when I was 13 or 14, somehow convincing my dad to let me rent it. (My mother's theory: "He probably thought it was about Elizabeth Taylor and a horse.") That's when MacLachlan gives a slightly embarrassed laugh, and he says, "I bet that was...frightening?" There's an iconic scene in which he's completely nude and Isabella Rosselini, clutching a butcher knife, goes down on him after their characters first meet. So yes, I was possibly frightened. But I knew then—as I know now, having seen much of David Lynch's work, with and without MacLachlan—that it was something interesting, peculiar, scary, and absurd, and everyone involved was willing to take a major risk to fulfill this one guy's crazy artistic notions.

I settle in my seat, and I remember that I'm here to talk about David Lynch—and Twin Peaks—with the man who has been the face of those notions for many years. Lynch is big on avatars and doppelgangers, the nature of good and evil, and fucking around with our ideas of the American Dream and the horrors that exist just below the surface, hidden thanks to our willful ignorance. And he's put all of this into the world by telling a large, expansive story with MacLachlan's face—still handsome after all these years—at the forefront.

What's the allure of Kyle MacLachlan, anyway? There is the obvious handsomeness, an all-American look that the actor attributes to one feature in particular. "It's the chin," he says with a laugh. "It's hard to get away from that." But there's something about his personality, too, that offsets—and maybe works in tandem—with his looks. He has a kind sensibility, an inherent goofiness that makes one naturally comfortable around him. He seems to have heard this before, from people who have tried to describe him without being able to put their finger on it exactly. Back to his face, just for a second: MacLachlan tells me that it's got an edge to it, so he hears, that has served as a trademark of sorts. "There's something off—that's the thing," he says. "People would always tell me, 'Something about your face is a little bit off.'" (Writer Rich Cohen once described him, in an early '90s profile in Rolling Stone, as "the boy next door, if that boy spent lots of time alone in the basement.") Does he sweat the comments he's received about the indiscernible weirdness of his persona, his face? Not really. "Listen, if it gets me work, that's fine," he says.

Lynch gave MacLachlan his first big break: the starring role in Dune, the anticipated adaptation of Frank Herbert's celebrated sci-fi novel. Most young actors dream of landing such a role, playing the hero in a big-budget Hollywood blockbuster helmed by a buzzy director (Lynch's previous film, The Elephant Man, earned eight Oscar nominations). But Dune was a disaster—both on the production side and once it was released, flopping with critics and audiences alike. It was a hard first lesson for MacLachlan: Expectations could work against you, and it was important to be a practical actor, not to dwell on the losses, and to always keep an eye out for the next thing.

The next thing happened to come not long after, when Lynch came back to him with the script for Blue Velvet and offered him the role of the lead, Jeffrey Beaumont. Blue Velvet was the second big break—the real one, the one that propelled MacLachlan's career forward, and what solidified his connection to his director and friend.

"David is not Hollywood," MacLachlan explains. "My sense of it was that people didn't know what to do with me." He'd done the post-Dune audition rounds, and he wasn't finding other jobs landing in his lap. "Somebody does a movie that makes a zillion dollars, he plays the young hero, and producers can plug him into a million other things," he says. "The smart ones obviously build a construct. Not everyone has that ability."

Blue Velvet introduced a regular theme that Lynch has examined throughout his work since, which MacLachlan describes as "flirting with that dark soul, getting closer and closer to it until you're faced with the ultimate evil." Despite the film's brutality, it has a somewhat happy ending—suggesting that triumph over evil is possible. "Jeffrey barely escapes," MacLachlan says, "but he's changed forever."

With Jeffrey Beaumont, MacLachlan displayed full-on naïveté, playing a young man who realizes that the world in which he finds comfort is hiding sinister forces. His next major role, another created by David Lynch, would be a character who would find himself up against similarly dark factions—although this time of a supernatural quality.

MacLachlan admits that Twin Peaks was a bit of a fluke. The idea of David Lynch working in the realm of network television was absurd in itself. Blue Velvet, while earning Lynch his second Oscar nomination for Best Director, was met with a polarizing critical response. (Roger Ebert's review in particular was a scorcher, and he branded Lynch a misogynist for the way he "degraded" Rossellini on film.) His follow-up, Wild at Heart, which premiered at Cannes a month after Twin Peaks debuted on ABC, was met with equal parts enthusiasm and derision. (It won the Palme d'Or that year, even though the film was met with boos by the notoriously vocal film festival audience.)

Pairing up with writer Mark Frost, who had spent three years as a writer on NBC's police drama Hill Street Blues, Lynch broadened his idea of Americana—specifically, the darkness that lies beneath the surface of a quaint and seemingly wholesome small logging town in Washington—into a series. MacLachlan, bolstered by the critical success of Blue Velvet yet still reticent of how Lynch's next idea would play, didn't have high hopes. "It was completely unexpected that it would be anything more than a Movie of the Week," he tells me. "That's why a lot of us were on board: to watch David Lynch do this—and the anarchy that would reign down. Yeah, okay. Why not?"

But ABC executives loved the two-hour pilot, which introduced the murder of the beautiful homecoming queen Laura Palmer, the FBI agent who was summoned to solve her murder, and the various cast of characters who may very well have had something to do with the crime. "Suddenly we were doing it," MacLachlan says. "They called our bluff and bought the show."

Twin Peaks was a bonafide phenomenon, and its first season—consisting of the pilot and seven subsequent episodes—was a massive hit over the course of its eight-week run in the spring of 1990. Not only did it reunite MacLachlan with the director who introduced him to movie audiences, but it assembled a large ensemble cast of familiar and fresh faces.

The show was a mixture of television neo-noir and classic nighttime soap, but with a certain quirkiness that grabbed the attention of television audiences. There was a central murder mystery plot, yes, but there was also romantic intrigue, whispered secrets, a woman who communicated with a log. It often depicted its protagonist dreaming of a mysterious room, decorated with red drapes and a black-and-white chevron-patterned floor and populated by the kind of grotesque characters straight out of a Flannery O'Connor short story. It blended Lynch's dry humor and his absurdist non-sequiturs with the themes he began exploring in Blue Velvet—but with an entirely new style that filmmakers would spend years trying to replicate.

Laura Palmer's murder was solved in the early part of the second season—she had been raped and killed by her father, Leland, while he was under the influence of a demonic presence known as BOB—and the show began to shift into an unwieldy procedural drama. MacLachlan is honest about the missteps of the show's middling second season.

"I thought the first seven episodes [in Season One] were brilliant," he admits. "We had gone on a crazy tangent [in Season Two], and they were trying to pull it back. But it had already drifted too far off."

The series ended with a massive cliffhanger in a final episode directed by Lynch. Cooper, who had a new love interest in Heather Graham's Annie Blackburn, attempts to save her from an ex-FBI agent who has committed his life to terrorizing Cooper's. The pursuit finds him entering the mysterious red room of his dream through a portal in the woods; caught in what is known as the Black Lodge, he comes face to face with his mortal enemy as well as the evil that is holding the town hostage: BOB himself. BOB overtakes Cooper, creating a doppelganger of our hero and entering our world in disguise—leaving Cooper trapped in this impeccably decorated limbo.

Once again: disappointment. As with Dune, MacLachlan took it in stride. After all, Twin Peaks had earned him two Emmy nominations and a Golden Globe. He had had a steady job and got to work again with Lynch to craft a great role—arguably, in hindsight, the most vital of his career. "There was certainly a disappointment when it was cancelled," he tells me. "But I said to myself, 'Well, that's done. Time to find the next thing.'"

Two things propel actors: Getting work that pays enough to stay afloat between jobs, and finding work that's compelling and challenging—roles that don't leave you typecast and stuck playing the same character over and over again.

Of course, MacLachlan did play Dale Cooper again in Lynch's big-screen prequel to the series, Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me, which was released a year after the show's cancellation. MacLachlan initially passed on playing Cooper again so soon after the show ended, although he eventually joined the production. But his role was small, and the absence of many other Twin Peaks regulars (and its bleak, darker tone) was off-putting for fans. The film was not a commercial success, and the critical response was mixed.

MacLachlan—who tells me that he had to find "a construct" for himself, a certain kind of figure he could play with slight variation—took a few odd roles in the '90s. There are a couple of forgettable indie movies on his résumé, plus Oliver Stone's The Doors, in which he played keyboardist Ray Manzarek. In what would be one of the biggest box-office successes of his career (that is until he leant his voice for a small role in the Pixar film Inside Out), he played Cliff Vandercave in The Flintstones, an insanely successful movie (it earned over $300 million worldwide) that feels like a lost '90s relic. (Do you remember anything about The Flintstones, other than it happened? I saw it twice, and I mostly just remember MacLachlan's biceps.) Yet he still proved he could play a different type: the sexy antagonist—even if that chance involved wearing a sleeveless double-breasted suit and playing the foil to John Goodman's Fred Flintstone.

But that led to his next role in what would be another infamous moment in modern film history: Paul Verhoeven's Showgirls, one of the most notorious movies of all time and the first big-budget NC-17-rated film to get a wide release. MacLachlan has been vocal about how he feels about the film. (He told Esquireearlier this year, "What did I learn from Showgirls? I learned what not to do!") Naturally, he chuckles when I even bring it up. (It's an inevitable topic of conversation. You can't not mention Showgirls in the presence of Kyle MacLachlan.) And he's honest with me about why he took the role. "It was a deliberate attempt to change things up a bit," he says. "All actors do that to varying degrees of success and failure. And, to be honest, I was a big fan of Paul Verhoeven, so I thought, 'Well, this could be fun.' I just happened to pick the wrong one." (Every gay man I know would suggest otherwise, but hey: Everybody's a critic.)

Once again, MacLachlan's career took another oddball turn. But these moments were still high-profile; he was still on the radar. And his early work with David Lynch continued to cast a welcome shadow over him as an actor, particularly as those who appreciated and found influence in Blue Velvet and Twin Peaks began to rise in the Hollywood ranks themselves. At least that's MacLachlan's theory for his three major television roles of the last two decades: Trey MacDougal, the impotent Upper East Side mama's boy who served as a frustrating love interest to Charlotte on Sex and the City; Orson Hodge, a devious dentist on Desperate Housewives; and the Mayor of Portland on Fred Armisen and Carrie Brownstein's hipster satire Portlandia, who could very well be Dale Cooper if he had gone into local politics instead of the Black Lodge.

"These things came to me because of my work with David," MacLachlan says. "Not because they were looking at the roles and saying, 'Oh, he'd be perfect for that.' The creators were people who had in some way been inspired by David, or affected somehow."

Two decades after Twin Peaks, as the show's cult following only grew larger and larger and its influence became more overt as dark, quirky mystery shows about the dangers hidden out of sight in small-town America became more and more popular, MacLachlan couldn't shake the series from his head. He and Lynch remained good friends, and Twin Peaks was often a topic of conversation when they saw each other. "Over the years, we'd get together and sit, chat, have coffee, catch up," MacLachlan tells me. "Occasionally I would bring up the idea of Twin Peaks. I recognized for me, selfishly, it was a great character, a great period of time. I was hungry to revisit that and to have the experience of working with David again."

"OCCASIONALLY I WOULD BRING UP THE IDEA OF TWIN PEAKS. I WAS HUNGRY TO REVISIT THAT AND TO HAVE THE EXPERIENCE OF WORKING WITH DAVID AGAIN."

Years later, Lynch called MacLachlan on the phone, and his tone was markedly more assertive than normal. "I need to talk to you," Lynch said to him, "but I can't do it over the phone." The two met in New York, and Lynch delivered the news: He and Mark Frost had figured a way back into the world of Twin Peaks. Was MacLachlan interested in joining them? "We've talked about this, David," MacLachlan recalls saying. "But if you need to hear it from me: Yes, I'm in." Nothing was settled yet. Scripts hadn't been written. A precarious deal with Showtime was in the works, and there were stops and starts, which naturally worried MacLachlan. But eventually everything fell into place, Lynch and Frost and MacLachlan signed their deals, members of the cast were coming back, along with some new familiar faces. The network handed the keys over to Lynch to direct a whopping 18 episodes. It was official: Twin Peaks was returning to TV.

Let's rock.

Where the hell do I begin with Twin Peaks: The Return? For one thing, as I write this, I still haven't finished it; Showtime is keeping a close guard on the final two episodes that make up its grand finale, and the network didn't provide journalists screeners throughout the season. Perhaps that's part of why it's been so fun to watch: Not only is every episode completely unexpected, with most of the theories surrounding its complex and meandering plot as indecipherable as the show itself, but no one is getting an early look at this show. We all have to wait to see what David Lynch has in store for us precisely when he's ready to give it away.

I'm chatting with MacLachlan on the Monday afternoon following the 16th episode of the series—the one in which Agent Cooper finally comes out of the catatonic state in which he's been trapped for a very long time (15-plus hours for us, but much longer for him). Before that, he was trapped in the body of Dougie Jones, a Cooper doppelganger who lives in Las Vegas, sells insurance, and presumably has a gambling problem; most of his biography before the events of the season begins is provided by his wife, Janey-E, through one of her regular screaming sessions leveled at her dim man-child of a husband. (Naomi Watts, playing Janey-E, is a master at the David Lynch monologue.) How he got into Dougie Jones is still sort of a complicated mystery. Some people have their ideas of how it works, but for me, well… I've simply watched the show and kept myself from asking too many questions for the sake of my own sanity. I've simply enjoyed the long, twisted ride.

MacLachlan hasn't seen the final two episodes, either, although he knows what happens. From the beginning, he was in possession of what he calls The Bible. "After a little bit of cajoling, they let me have the script," he admits to me, "as long as I absolutely swore never to show anyone." (He keeps that promise with me, despite any effort I make to milk a secret or two out of him. "We all felt an obligation, really," he says. "We wanted to protect this thing so that people could experience it in the proper sequence.")

The world of the new Twin Peaks is massive. It expands beyond the borders of the small Washington town, with scenes taking place in Manhattan, Las Vegas, South Dakota, New Mexico in 1945, and in the Black Lodge. And while it brings with it a return of many of the beloved characters from the original series (with a few noted exceptions), it also introduces a wide variety of new characters in those far-flung locations. It is perhaps the most impressive cast of actors on television in recent history, and that doesn't include the musical guest that shows up every week at the Bang Bang Bar. (Whoever is booking for the Roadhouse is doing one hell of a job.)

"WE ALL FELT AN OBLIGATION, REALLY. WE WANTED TO PROTECT THIS THING SO THAT PEOPLE COULD EXPERIENCE IT IN THE PROPER SEQUENCE."

MacLachlan asked for the complete script almost out of a necessity to understand where his role fit within the larger story. Well, I should say "roles," because at this point he's playing three: there's Special Agent Dale Cooper, trapped in the Black Lodge for 25 years and then released into the world once again; Dougie Jones, the aforementioned dummy who's learning about the world almost like a child (or maybe he's actually Cooper, trying to remember who he actually is); and then there's Mr. C, the Cooper doppelganger who left the Black Lodge behind in 1991 at the end of the original series.

As much as the rest of us wondered how the residents of Twin Peaks would look and act after a 25-year hiatus, MacLachlan himself wondered how to get back into the role of Agent Cooper. But first he had to tackle the two opposite poles of Dougie and Mr. C. For Dougie, he looked to Peter Sellers for inspiration, also remembering Jeff Bridges's performance in Starman; for Mr. C, he thought of Javier Bardem in No Country for Old Men. Dougie, he admits, was the easier role to take on, while Mr. C was much tougher.

"It's hard for me to play that," he admits. "I can do it, of course, but I don't know if I really want to."

I bring up the moment when Mr. C murders his son, Richard Horne, steering him on top of a rock formation and watching as he is electrocuted. Mr. C shows no sign of empathy—that's in his nature, of course. But it was hard for MacLachlan to pull off. "Of all the things David had me do, that was the worst. But it's true to the character. As an actor, I want to show some humanity. It's so hard to be absolute." I can tell, through the calm and measured quality of the good-natured man who sits before me, that diving into the depths of his own potential dark side was no easy mission. He had to find that humanity within his director, who he says went along with him on both Dougie and Mr. C's journey. "David almost embodies the qualities of the characters," he says. "I can see it in his face. With Dougie, there's a certain energy. When I'm Mr. C, it's dark and he's in another place. It gave me the confidence to carry the character to its fulfillment."

He tells me another difficult task was to act as Mr. C with David Lynch as his character, FBI Deputy Director Gordon Cole. "I didn't like it at all," he says, definitively, and with a look of deep concern. It suggests that MacLachlan felt uneasy breaking out of the kind of figure that Lynch has pushed him to play so many times: the innocent who flirts with danger but ultimately controls it. Dougie, in a way, was his own release from that darkness: all joy and absurdity. When I ask him about his favorite scenes, MacLachlan immediately sports a big Dougie Jones smile. His sex scene with Naomi Watts comes to mind, and he imitates the look of perplexed ecstasy on Dougie's face as he sleeps with his wife. He flails his arms about a bit, not noticing that he's drawing some attention from some of the people sitting near us in the restaurant. But I suppose when you've taken the leaps that he has—flirting with the darkness that David Lynch has created, or even doing something so bold as acting in a sex scene in front of a film crew—you lose some of your inhibitions fairly easily. I'm much less nervous around MacLachlan by now, and much more impressed with the confidence he exudes, something he's learned from the fearlessness that his job requires.

MacLachlan knows Twin Peaks: The Return isn't for everybody. He knew this as soon as he saw the script, realizing that fans of the original show might not embrace the revival with as much enthusiasm. I suggest that there are two different kinds of people: Twin Peaksfans and David Lynch fans. "Twin Peaks: The Return is for the David Lynch fans," I say, and MacLachlan nods.

"It was going to be the Lynch fans who would have the most fun," MacLachlan says. "That was obvious to me as we were traveling on that journey. It was going to be darker, visceral, and have the same kind of surreal elements that David loves to mix in with the ingredients. Who's to say how the Twin Peaks fan base and the David Lynch fan base would find common ground? David Lynch fans were in for it the entire way, and the Twin Peaks fans who made the leap might find something special, too."

As one of David Lynch's regular players, MacLachlan has learned not to parse the material for meaning—just as he's learned not to demand too much explanation from his director. This, he admits, he learned the hard way. "On Dune, I was rabid. I drove David to madness," he says. "And finally he closed the door on me." He offers no detailed analysis of what has transpired over the show's 16 episodes so far, and I get the sense that my intuition—to focus less on the meaning and more on the form—is the best way to experience it.

Instead, he accepts that there's a purpose to everything he's done, simply because Lynch has created it. He offers an explanation for the director's working relationship with Mark Frost, who is certainly more grounded in his craft. "Mark is the kind of writer who says there needs to be reason and process," he explains. Lynch, on the other hand, pays closer attention to theme and ideas—particularly where evil comes from, how it corrupts innocent men and women as it spreads like a virus, and where to put it in order to keep it contained. "I don't think David feels compelled to resolve everything by any means, maybe because of the idea that it's ongoing and we'll pick it back up if we have to," he says, pointing to the differences in the way Lynch and Frost attack the material. "Maybe that's why they get together once every 25 years," he laughs.

At the end of the day, the return of Twin Peaks is almost enough of a treat for MacLachlan as much as, I'd suggest, the people who are tuning in each week. "It's like a weird high school reunion," he says, and I think that the people who either watched it when it first aired or throughout the years on DVD or streaming on Netflix might say the same thing.

"I DON'T THINK DAVID FEELS COMPELLED TO RESOLVE EVERYTHING BY ANY MEANS, MAYBE BECAUSE OF THE IDEA THAT IT'S ONGOING AND WE'LL PICK IT BACK UP IF WE HAVE TO."

Working with Lynch again has been a delight, MacLachlan says, as has acting for the first time with fellow Lynch muse Naomi Watts. And, naturally, he speaks with visible exuberance about seeing Laura Dern on set again 30 years after they starred in Blue Velvet together. Dern plays Diane, the previously unseen assistant to Agent Cooper who would receive his daily briefings in the original series; she steals every scene with a sharp, bitter tongue and a platinum blonde bob wig. "Laura and I have traveled this road together a long time," MacLachlan says. "We love David very much, and we get a real kick out of each other."

But seeing Dern interact with Lynch, who directed her in Wild at Heart and Inland Empire, showed MacLachlan a different side to his friend and director. "They tease each other a lot—David and I don't really tease each other!" he laughs. "I mean, we get along, we have fun, we have a laugh. But I never felt thatcomfortable, you know? I wondered, how does she do that?" MacLachlan says that he and Dern aren't unlike siblings, realizing that their individual relationships to their father is surprisingly different.

Ultimately, MacLachlan is grateful for the opportunity to play this character again, and he's grateful for the fans for keeping the spirit of Twin Peaks alive. ("I think the fans played a big part of this," he says of the revival.) He feels like he's a part of something bigger, a piece of moving art that is ripe for interpretation and inspiration as much as it is entertaining. And, as always, he guides me to understanding how it falls within David Lynch's worldview, as well: "David tells me, 'Everything is Twin Peaks. It's all Twin Peaks,'" he says. "These stories continue—that's the whole thing. Everybody kept living and going on and doing their thing. It never stopped. Now we're picking it up again, 25 years later. Who knows if we'll pick them up again down the road, I don't know."

Before I'm even able to ask the final question—either because he knows it's coming, or simply because his answer is so obvious for him—he gives a sly smile when he responds.

"Would you do it again, down the road?"

"Oh, yes. In a minute."

Link (KM)

[deevolutionisreal]

The Rope Song

The canonical version of this post appears at https://de-evolution.band/article/the-rope-song/

Hardcore Vol. 2 - Track 5 - The Rope Song

Chris Let's rope it up. In 3. 2. 1. Go! Another catchy song!

Jon Yeah!

Chris Almost like a synth didgeridoo.

Jon Blues/folk-y.

Chris Yeah.

Jon I can see a 12min Grateful Dead version of this.

Chris Oh man haha. Yeah they'd blow this out.

Jon Jerry C. can sound like Jerry G. sometimes vocally, too.

Chris That riff over the chorus is pretty sweet. What is making that digital didgeridoo sound? The one high up in the mix?

Jon Synthesizer with a certain filter/envelope I reckon.

Chris Yeah makes sense.

Jon I know I could recreate that if you gave me like an hour, haha.

Chris Nice! Yeah they never used that sound again, I don't think?

Jon Not really, no.

Chris Okay, the lyrics. Are about how he literally ties this woman to him. So he knows where she is always? But it's insurance?

Jon Haha yeah…but she WANTS to be there. The narrator is abusive as hell, haha.

Chris Yeah, it's that weird abusive sexism that was not uncommon of the time (or anytime, really) where the man is like, "oh, she fucking loves it, but also she can't leave. Everything is cool."

Jon Man, did you ever see The Knack... and How to Get It?

Chris No.

Jon Whole movie is about a dude with that mindset, and his nervous friend who's like "uhhhhhh.... but that sounds shitty" Dude who directed A Hard Day's Night.

Chris Richard Lester?

Jon Yep!

Chris Damn.

Jon Won the Palme d'Or at Cannes too I think. Weird movie, but good I think?

Chris Cool. Strange. And who is the protagonist?

Jon I think the nervous friend? But both of them kinda. It's a Withnail & I kinda vibe. Another Beatles adjacent movie, coincidentally.

Chris Via The Knack? Or is the title not music related?

Jon I think Harrison produced Withnail & I.

Chris Ahh oh I see.

Jon Nah I don't think so / if anything the band was named for the film.

Chris Right right. I just assumed since it was Richard Lester and he's all about music or some shit. That and giving superman weird powers.

Jon Hahaha.

[popgabbo]

#Cannes Film Festival opened today. I had great memories from last year. Glitz, glamor, amazing weather, beach, sand, red carpet, and celebrity watching. For guys, wearing a tux just to watch a movie? Oh yeah. Everyone going all out. It's another world. Link in bio goes to other pics. Slide for more. 1-3 #JessicaChastain is a jury member this year. I appreciated she took the time out to talk with me, the lone American in a sea of French people. Her assistant even managed a shot of us together. 4&5 #Sunrise and #sunset shots of the beach. You can see all the tent booths various companies and countries lined up. They have their own city. 6 Statue with the Palm D'Or prize. 7 Hotel Martinez is where many celebs stay in town. A number of fans camp out here all week. 8 A headress that just looked amazing. An example of how far people get ready for this. #cannes2016 #france #redcarpet #filmfestival #celebrity #beach #sand #@jessicachastain #tent #statue @hotelmartinez #hair #headress

[bisluthq]

Mannnyyy eyes are on TSAN at Cannes... and critics do matter here bcoz they're at the premiere. I genuinely hope it's good and not rushed for competition. We've had two reviews, sort of, one saying it's at good odds for Palme d'Or and the other criticizing it and Joe, not the final cut, but also said High Life is her worst soooo dk.

Yeah the guy who said it has good odds for the Palme D’Or strikes me as more reliable here because 1) I don’t know what the point in reviewing an early cut to say “this is a bad cut” is like his biggest issue was editing and it wasn’t finished? If I show you a half painted house and you go “great house but I don’t like how it’s painted” like that’s not valuable feedback 2) ya he disliked High Life sooo let’s see. It’s very buzzy but like people need to see what she actually made idk. Very exciting vibes. The VF Oscar podcast was throwing its name around which to me feels overdramatic but that’s how buzzy it is.

[bisluthq]

Do u think Claire can win a Palme d'Or for TSAN?? She seems very passionate about this, her last film and it is very Cannes type movie. If she does, Joe will def have a 2015 2.0 moment in the sense that in 2015, he had an Oscar winner picking him for lead role straight out of drama school whereas this time, he happened to get replaced in a Claire Denis film days after completing a 6 month long shoot, then filming in two months and now it's premiering at Cannes. *Googles how to have so much luck*

I mean I think she’s going there to win lol but obviously you can’t know how it’s gonna pan out. As you - and she - say, it’s her last film and unless it’s genuinely terrible (in which case weird she can’t tell or that no one at A24 or at Cannes suggested she hold off until next year so it… can’t be genuinely terrible) they’re gonna give it some awards because she’s a French cinema legend and she doesn’t have big Cannes awards so I think they’d do it as a sign of respect. Whether it’s specific categories or the Grand Prix or the Palme d’Or like we’ll have to see but yeah it’s exciting and Joe was mad lucky 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️