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slashingdisneypasta · 4 years

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Jason Voorhees x Freddy’sDaughter!Reader || Oneshot

Title: They Cuddles; Him, Her, and her Bottle of Hypnocil.

Notes:

‘-There was something in her, something that was… pure horror. Everything you were supposed to watch out for. Heights, fire, shards of glass, snakes. Everything that his mom tried so hard to keep him safe from.’ - John Ajvide Lindqvist.

Inspired by the above quote.

Quick Background of Reader: You’re Maggies younger (Only a little) half-sister. (You were conceived and born shortly after he killed Loretta and your mother didn’t want you so you were pawned off to him so you were living with him until he was burnt by the Springwood Parents, whereas Maggie was of course taken away) (Pretend it was years between the time he was caught and the time he was killed)

Tried to write in Jasons POV, not sure how good it is, hah.

I miiiiiiight have some ideas for future parts of this, this was adorable and sweet.

Plot:

Just, Jason falling in so love with the enemies daughter who is so like her father - she’s loud, she’s hurt, she makes s t u p i d jokes and then laughs way too hard at them, she’s dangerous, - but who is gentle with him and kind. (She’s basically the type of girl Pam wouldn’t approve of at first but is so honest and kind that Pam cant help but begrudgingly like her eventually XD )

Warnings: Age gap? I mean it’s not a main plot point so you could ignore it but Jason and Freddy are similar in age so you’re young enough to be Jason’s kid too- but you’re in your 30’s-40’s so its okie. Fatherly trauma (Is that the right phrase?? Hah. You know what I mean) / Nightmare on elm Street survivor trauma also. Panic attack I think? Ends in fluff ^^

~~~

When you stayed a night in your van at that old, abandoned camp, you certainly didn’t expect to meet Jason. I mean, you weren’t surprised by his… abnormalities -referring to the fact that he’s dead. Not his deformities, - as much as you were how cute and sweet he was. And how well you two got on, after he tried to kill you.

And you don’t blame him for that! You trespassed; you get it. If you had known he was there and he had taken ownership of the area, then you would have asked before parking there.

When Jason had found a girl hidden away, sleeping in the back of a yellow van, he certainly didn’t expect that she would soon become so important to him. She was just another trespasser acting like a hoodlum -living! In! A! Van?! – in his general vicinity and of course, he didn’t like that.

Boring chase story short; He pushed your van over and there was a chase through the forest (You’ve never run that fast in your life, jesus christ. You can still feel the wind burn on your cheeks, that one rock under your bare feet that cut you and the energy rushing through your body pushing you forward anyway) and you leapt into the lake- waiting until he came in after you. And then when he did, you just screamed random nonsense, splashing around spastically at him until you hit a nerve that sobered him (Something about his mother). This is a technique you developed after you were given up to various foster homes after your father was burnt to death (And then also when he found you again) when stinky foster parents, foster siblings, bullies at school rando’s off the street wanted to put their hands on you, and that you mastered since. It works, evidently, with asexual zombie monsters too.

After that, you went back to your van and rap up your foot, thinking that at least the lake water cleaned up the cut on your foot, and then grumpily set up your bed on your window now since the van (Poor, dear Mandy) is now on its side thanks to the local undead jerk!

You hadn’t slept a wink the rest of that night, not because of the hulking mass of rotten flesh and a hockey mask that you knew was lurking somewhere close by, watching you, but because you weren’t about to waste an extra Hypnocil pill in one night. You just laid there, pillows propping you up and being bored. Staring at the ceiling, smearing various ugly pastel shades onto a page in your sketchbook, listening to the woods and imagining getting rawed by Danny Zuko were highlights. Then, when daylight finally broke out, you were finally, unhappily wondering how you were going to get Mandy back on her wheels, zipping up your jacket and looking at your beautiful pale-yellow Volkswagen.

You thinking what pain this would be to correct… and then having turned on your heel and went on a trek to the closest town to get some kind of breakfast. Procrastinating the inevitable.

When you had returned, a bag of groceries in your arms -drink propped on top of everything else so you could sip through the straw as you walked,- , your van was back on her wheels.

You don’t know what it was about you that made him do that, that made him stop and not kill you, and its likely you’ll never find out since he doesn’t talk, after that you had gone directly to find the - cute, now, -behemoth you knew fixed it for you, to make and give him fairy bread to say thank you and sorry for what happened last night- and honestly you’ve been friendly ever since. More then friendly, after a while, but never less then.

___TIME SKIP: Current time now. Months and months after you met___

~ POV Change~

Oh my god.

The second I see that the familiar bottle, the one from Typo with the Coca Cola logo on it that reminds me absolutely zero percent of my father that I keep Hypnocil pills in is not where I left it, a deep sense of dread and anxiety fills me up to the brim- only proceeding to grow outwards to the air around me as I search in an increasingly more panicked fashion for the thing. Where is it!? Where is it, where is it, where is it. “Where, where, where, where, where, where- “

I fling a pillow out the back of the van and am just bundling up the blankets, not caring what else goes with it to push out as well so I can find that fucking bottle when I notice Jason standing there at the back doors watching me, head tilted. I immediately stop what I’m doing, heart stopping for a second. “Lost something.” Is all I can squeak out.

He leans forward and I watch as I bends down so his head and upper body are in here with me and looks around, then up at me again as if to ask what I’m looking for so he can help me. “I-Its, um… “ My voice trembles. I need to find that bottle- the fact that Jason is being so sweet and offering to help me look just makes me feel even less together. I could cry. “A r-red bottle with umm, curly writing on it?” He probably doesn’t remember what coke is, much less the logo…

He nods, and starts looking around, eyes focused and slow as the graze along everything in the van so studiously that I stay extra still instead of helping- so he doesn’t miss anything with that super-vision he’s acting like he must have. The vans a mess and I’m just kneeling in the corner, against the driver’s seat with the blankets all bundles up in my lap, worrying my bottom lip and waiting for this man to save me. Please, jesus- help me. Save me.

A moment later and I’m about to slowly move from my place and Jason suddenly moves. His heavy arm shoots forward and pulls the bottle, a tubular shock of red, out of a nook between my portable DVD player/screen and some books and I was showing him earlier, offering it to me.

Dropping the blankets and sitting on them instead, feeling the softness on my bare legs and taking the bottle from him before hugging it to my chest and covering my face with my hands, silently.

Oh my god.

~POV Change~

Y/N curls up on herself, hiding her face and the bottle between her legs and her tummy and doesn’t make much noise except a quick, quiet whimper. She’s acting different, in a bad way. Why isn’t she talking to him, Jason wonders? Why isn’t she being loud? Is she okay?

Looking around the van, because he has to go in there and see if she’s okay- get her out of that body-cocoon, Jason crawls into the vehicle that he’s never dared to touch since the first night they met, and it breathes under his weight a little bit. He sits down next to her, crossing his legs and watching her for a while. What… to do… now… hmm…

Finally, he decides putting his hand on her shoulder might work to get her attention at least, and she does relax her shoulders quickly at the contact. Then looks up, face red, at him before wiping her face again and crawling suddenly into his lap. She takes a deep breath, regaining some of her usual colour and composure as Jason just sits solid and c o m p l e t e l y still beneath her, flashing him a quick, toothless smile. “Thank you for finding this Jason, it’s important to me.” She looks at the bottle in her hands, not wanting to put it down and risk losing it again even as she knows its irrational that she would do it twice in a row. “Its… how I keep him away… “

Y/N looks up at Jason, eyebrows risen up her forehead to watch him cautiously, worriedly, looking for signs. Did he understand what you were talking about? And if so, is he okay at the mention of your father?

He’s just completely unmoving still. Y/N blinks at the utter lack of responce. “Jason?”

When she still doesn’t receive a response, she taps his mask gently. “Jaaaason?”

That gets his attention, as he looks down at her face… and nods. A wonky smile that makes his somehow-still-beating heart flutter weirdly appears on her face and she looks outside instead. “So, what did you come to see me for? Ya just missed me? Hah, I missed you too cutie. How about we go for a walk? Its pretty today- ah.” When Jason’s big arms suddenly, slowly take action and wrap heavily around her, she’s pleasantly surprised. Her anxieties and panic from earlier all but slip from their knot in her chest and disappear at the action, and she responds by turning properly to her side in his lap so she can lean into his chest. “Oor we could cuddle. That sounds better anyway!~”

She taps the side of his face affectionately before closing her eyes, and he lets his own half lid themselves at the feeling of her so close to him. She’s so cute and warm. Its weird, but he thinks- if someone were to come right now in this moment, and not be loud and not do anything to Y/N or him… he would probably let them go.

(Well at least until he let her go.)

#Jason Voorhees x Reader Oneshot #Oneshot #Jason Voorhees #Freddy Krueger #Oneshots #Jason Voorhees x Reader

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girlonfilmmovies · 4 years

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The Top 25 Films of 2019

25: Shadow (dir. Zhang Yimou)

"Without the real, there can be no shadow. A principle no one's understood."

After a string of terrible films trying to play to Hollywood audiences, Zhang Yimou manages to successfully return to the goldmine he stuck in the early 2000s and craft another absolutely gorgeous wuxia. Here he swaps out the poetic, colorful beauty in favor of monochromatic, surprisingly violent tone poem about deceit. It ultimately works against it, as by the seventh or eighth double cross you kind of just give up trying to figure out who's on what side, but the main action setpiece is so wonderful it deserves a spot for that alone. Hopefully a good sign for Yimou's future, as long as we don't have another nationalist war epic that somehow inexplicably also has a white savior narrative too.

24: Climax (dir. Gaspar Noé)

"...something's kicking in..."

Noe takes us for another plunge into the dark, twisted, vomit-inducing, neon-lit hellscape that is his mind and at least has the common courtesy to put the pleasant parts upfront this time. While it will eventually devolve into the same type of chaos that we all love/hate from him, the first act is kind of a wonderful departure from him. He basically accidently makes a musical for a while, with wonderful and deeply intricate dance choreography as well as a fantastic extended sequence where every character jumps in and out of frame and gets a chance to strut their stuff. That movie would have been a strong top five contender, but alas, the man has his particular quirks that he must abide by. But at least he also strung together probably the best soundtrack and sound design of the year, with the fantastic EDM bangers rumbling through the walls throughout the entirety of the film.

23: Long Shot (dir. Jonathon Levine)

"Oohhh boooy!"

Charlize Theron and Seth Rogen doing a political comedy that manages to be both smart and extremely funny seems like a long shot indeed, but Johnathon Levine finally strikes gold again after a number of disappointing duds. He manages to make a pretty good story about how navigating the political minefield destroys what little hope and dreams high level politicians still manage to have, but then he also happens to make it all absolutely hilarious too. Theron demonstrates a surprisingly strong comic game too, easily matching all the other talent and cracking jokes along with them. It ends up being a charming romance where the woman takes charge in a very pleasant change of pace. And if nothing else, the way Seth Rogen yells "oh boy" in that video is always going to make me laugh no matter what.

22: 6 Underground (dir. Michael Bay)

"Ghosts have one power above all others: to haunt the living. Haunt them... for what they've done."

Theoretical question: what say Netflix gave Michael Bay a blank check and no restrictions, and he turned in the most overblown, dialed to eleven, nonsensical spectacle that he ever crafted and was allowed to put it into almost every American home for free? Now what if I told you that it was actually kind of awesome? Sure, it's basically a child playing with his $150 million dollar GI Joe set, smashing his toys together and making pew-pew sounds, but it's also probably the best testament to the power of conventional effects work over the increasing insistence on CGI for big setpieces. Let's face it: explosions are pretty cool, every one likes exotic locales and bright sports cars, and there's at least someone here to appeal to you (least surprisingly for me, it was Melanie Laurent with bangs wearing a suit). It almost reaches a late Michael Mann kind of abstraction, as both are respectively breaking apart the action movie into stranger combinations. Bay gives plot only because he contractually has to, and even then doesn't seem as committed to characterization as he is showcasing surprisingly brutal ways for the gang to dispatch their enemies. It's nonsense, but the damn best nonsense of the year.

21: Ip Man 4: The Finale (dir. Wilson Yip)

"Is that it?! Is this your Chinese Kung Fu?!"

The finale in the decade-long quadrilogy of supremely silly and borderline racist worship of China finally attempts to tackle America to delightfully amusing results. Scott Adkins doing his best evil R. Lee Ermey impression while slipping in modern neo-con punchlines, neverending Bruce Lee worship, and more nationalism and bad fake American accents than you could ever believe. Yet also a more bizarrely honest portrayal of racism in 1960s America than most movies would ever have the courage to acknowledge. It’s almost fascinating considering how a lot of the non-Asian racism basically serves as set dressing, but they still put more effort there than pretty much every Hollywood movie set in the 60s that isn’t directly about civil rights. But ultimately they're selling you a bill of goods saying "watch Ip Man beat the crap out of racist meatheads" and you better believe they're going to give you what you want.

20: Let It Snow (dir. Luke Snellin)

"Have you ever been with someone, and you stay up until like 4AM just talking about everything, and you're just like, I can't believe I get to exist at the same time as you?"

Okay, so let me explain myself on this one:

So yeah, it certainly is a generic teen romcom where everyone plays into basic teenage stereotypes, half the cast is clearly nowhere near eighteen, and all of the romance is oddly chaste. But there truly is something to be said about representation in a romcom, and after a thousand boring cis, straight, hetero couples falling in love for decades, this movie actually managed to hit a lot of notes that are at best rarely explored in the genre and also manages to probably sneak in some genuine firsts. While both the "tomboy/softboy" and "Latina struggling with her family" storylines have been done before, these are some nice, cute little iterations on those befitting a teen-friendly movie. But the Dorrie/Kerry story is not only legitimately groundbreaking, but also an absolutely perfect encapsulation of the types of problems that queer teenagers struggle with during that time of their lives. It's a queer romance, played by two actually not-straight people, with one of them being a nonbinary actor too. And it's not cordoned off into some bargain bin DIY indie that fell out the back of the truck on the way to an indie film festival; no, this is in a major holiday release, with well-known actors, and as one of the central storylines! Plus, it perfectly captures the woes of modern teen coming out, knowing that everything will probably still be cool, but the fear haunting you as all you can do is look jealously at someone who is out and proud. And it does it without being real shitty and horribly traumatic too. Eat your fucking heart out, Love, Simon!

19. John Wick: Chapter 3 -- Parabellum (dir. Chad Stahelski)

"Si vis pacem, para bellum!"

Another year, another John Wick movie. There's more plot; you don't care, and let's be honest, neither do I. Stahelski is here to serve up more badass characters and incredible action, and no one in Hollywood does it quite like him. It's got familiar action favorites demonstrating why they still remain supreme, with Yayan Ruhian, Cecep Arif Rahman, Tiger Chen, and the ever underrated Mark Dascascos. It's got surprising action showcases for Halle Berry, Lance Reddick, and somehow Boban Marjanović. It's got great character actors doing their thing, from the returning McShane and Fishburne to newcomers Saïd Taghmaoui and Anjelica Huston. It's got Asia Kate Dillon as an awesome nonbinary shadow organization asshole. It has a bewildering Jason Mantzoukas cameo. And above all else, it has Keanu Reeves, still demonstrating not only his incredible physical skill, but also how to perfectly utilize his particular acting style to create an iconic character.

18. Doctor Sleep (dir. Mike Flanagan)

"Man takes a drink. A drink takes the drink. And then the drink takes a man."

While not the most accurate adaption, it might be the only Stephen King adaptation that comes to mind that actually successfully channels what makes him such an appealing author. King's stories have an inherent corniness to them and for as much as you unsuccessfully try to cover that up (look to this year's The Outsider for a good example), it's where the true charm of his work shines. It's what makes this so fun, because as much as an epic, eldritch terror is exciting, it still doesn't have the goofy fun of a bunch of vampiric bohemian drifters led by a Stevie Knicks knockoff in a top hat breathing up souls. Plus, the epic three hour runtime actually allows Flanagan to at least try to cover all the more subtle serious characterizations of Danny Torrance, from his recurring alcoholism to him seeking closure with regards to his parents. It manages to actually make the final act's nostalgia play kind of work, or at the very least get the terrible memory of the Ready Player One version out of my head.

17. Her Smell (dir. Alex Ross Perry)

"I thought you were better than this, but deep down I knew you weren't."

Perry must have had some extra pent-up nastiness in him after having to restrain himself while writing Christopher Robin (by the way, that happened), because he really created one of the nastiest characters in cinema here. Her Smell is the equivalent of being locked in a room with the shittiest person you'll ever meet, as she constant lashes out at everyone and everything with the kind of delirium that the truly demented are cursed with. And credit to Elizabeth Moss where it's due: she really perfectly embodies such a horrible human being and proceeds beat you damn near to death with it during a majority of the runtime. Eventually it slows down and all of the problems become apparent once they script isn't flying by at a thousand words a minute. But Moss literally did her job so well that people fucking hate this movie because of her character, and if that isn't a testament to her acting talent than I don't know what is.

16. High Life (dir. Claire Denis)

"At 99% the speed of light, the entire sky converged before our eyes. This sensation, moving backwards even though we're moving forwards, getting further from what's getting nearer. Sometimes I just can't stand it."

Denis finally makes her English debut with what she does best: nauseatingly uncomfortable sexuality oozing from terrible people doing horrible things. In this case, she takes an innovative detour into sci-fi, setting up a decades-long story of human experimentation, murder, the horrors of space travel, and whatever unholy things are going on inside of the "Fuck Box". It has an appropriately dingy production design too; the clean retro-futurist spaceship design soon dissolves into a torn apart den of depravity, caked in a mixture of filth and dry blood. Pattinson once again manages to be likeable while also being extremely standoff-ish; only playing with his baby daughter do we seem to see him actually enjoy interacting with a human being. Kind of gets lost in the sauce near the end, but at least manages to land some surprising emotional notes considering the kind of horrors that they've shown up until then.

15. The Farewell (dir. Lulu Wang)

"Chinese people have saying: when people get cancer they die. It's not cancer that kills them, it's the fear."

Lulu Wang's followup to Posthumous is such a massive step up in talent it's not even funny. She manages to make such a wonderfully soulful and loving movie about impending death by utilizing near perfect comic timing to defuse a situation that threatens to stray too dark. Not to mention her point of view on modern China from a non state-sponsored eye actually captures a much more accurate shot of the country itself. It's almost as if an Edward Yang movie had set itself more modest expectations -- it's pleasant, goes down well, teaches you a couple of things about Chinese culture, and manages to do it all in only a hundred minutes. And Awkwafina manages to hold her own against far more experienced actors, even if you can tell her Mandarin is still a little spotty.

14. Uncut Gems (dir. Josh and Benny Safdie)

"I think you are the most annoying person I have ever met. I hate being with you, I hate looking at you... And if I had my way I would never see you again."

Adam Sandler's magnum opus performance -- there will never be another character that fully embraces every grating aspect of his style of acting and manages to weaponize them for two anxiety-inducing hours of hell. Sandler's Howard Ratner is an absolute sewer rat scumbag, an untrustworthy coward, and a perennial fuck-up of epic proportions. But he's still so charismatic and powerful on screen that you root for him every time he drives you further up the wall. And the Safdie brothers know how to keep him moving too, never letting the audience catch a breath of air for this movie-length panic attack as the odds stack further against Howard each minute. Whenever you see Sandler phoning in his comedies for fat checks, just remember this performance and how pretty much every awards committee completely ignored this film. No wonder he doesn't bother trying anymore.

13. The Last Black Man In San Francisco (dir. Joe Talbot)

"You don't get to hate it unless you love it."

A wonderfully evocative love letter to a changing city that is so full of life in every way, from the vibrant movement of the camerawork to the bombastic and powerful soundtrack blasting throughout. But it actually plays more like a New Orleans' funeral march, a melancholic chronicle of the original denizens of San Francisco even as the city warps into the caricature that it's slowly becoming. There is a definite feeling that the aggressive gentrification is unavoidable and even the love of the original quirky denizens can only stave off the metaphorical steamroller that paves over the past. It makes for a wonderful counterpoint to the previous year's Blindspotting: both about young black men dealing with gentrification in the Bay Area, but Blindspotting starts as a very angry comic satire that eventually ends on a note of hope and a will to survive the changing tide, whereas this begins as a joyous celebration of the city and ends on a heartbreaking resignation in the face of everything. Both come from respectively very different sides of San Fran culture, but it's rather interesting seeing each have such different approaches to the same topic.

12. The Standoff at Sparrow Creek (dir. Henry Dunham)

"How do we know it's not you?"

A simple "pressure cooker" scenario done to perfection: one empty warehouse, a bunch of hardened standoff-ish militia men, a missing gun, a ticking clock, and a whole lot of suspicious side eyes and probing questions. It helps that the gruff suspects are a perfect who's who of roughened character actors, all previously well-versed in playing suspicious people, and all of them hiding the kind of unspoken rage that makes a man secretly join an armed militia. All of this told with a nerve-wracking minimalism and style as weirdly detached from reality as some of these men are. One hell of a debut for Henry Dunham and hopefully a sign of good things to come.

11. Booksmart (dir. Olivia Wilde)

"How about we play a *rousing* round of J'ACCUSE!"

Profoundly silly and yet also so disarmingly sweet, Olivia Wilde whips a wildly stylized portrait of Gen Z high-schoolers and the many ways that they vastly differ from their older peers. Certainly much more welcoming and accepting of the diversity of teenagers than pretty much any other teen movies from the past, although they still poke fun at some particular brands of modern "wokeness" too. Stuffed to the brim with wonderfully weird characters, between the lovable catty theatre duo of George and Alan, the cringe-inducing desperate rich kid Jared, the endearingly dumb thirstball Theo, the dorky and blissfully unaware queer-bait Ryan, the effortlessly cool and extremely "top energy" Hope, and the absolutely batshit wildness that is Gigi. But mainly it serves as a vehicle for Devers and Feldstein, with both bouncing perfectly back and forth off each other in moments of comedy and drama. Feldstein always pulls off huge laughs pretty much every line and Devers sells a perfect amount of baby-gay awkwardness in one of the sweetest (and heartbreaking) queer romance stories in film. But above all else, it's just so damn fun and aware of what teenagers are actually like than most movies ever have been.

10. Luce (dir. Julius Onah)

*chuckles* "You really think I believe that stuff?"

One of the most wildly uncomfortable experiences in recent cinema history, but not due to any horrifyingly explicit graphic content being shoved in our faces. No, Onah and Lee created something much more discomforting: a constant challenging of all our biases and stereotypes, of us wanting to give chances and have faith in those that we trust. Kelvin Harrison Jr. delivers one of the best acting performances in recent memory because he's able to literally do everything; his Luce somehow manages to perfectly walk the tightrope required for a performance like his. With him behind it, Luce is such a charming, loving, likeable character but there's always just something that seems off about him. And even if Spencer's Wilson has a fixation on him that crosses all sorts of legal and moral boundaries, wouldn't we be cheering her on under different circumstances? In a way, she herself is trying to communicate a lesson about perception too, one that also mires in deep, troubling waters. Even if the film still feels very stage-y due to it's source material, the cold clinical aesthetic only further helps it make us squirm in our seats.

9. Violet Evergarden: Eternity and the Auto Memory Doll (dir. Haruka Fujita)

"Nobody wants a letter that cannot be delivered."

An absolutely magical experience that artistically excels over the original TV series it's based off of. The production is still as impressive as any other KyoAni work, but the composition and lighting in particular are outstanding, selling the social isolation of the first half and the childlike wonder of the second half. Beginning with a sublime Victorian romance in the first half, the story eventually morphs into a tribute to the workers of the world, the cogs in the machine. But in the context of the studio's recent history and the horrific arson attack that claimed 36 members of the studio, this instead comes off as a battlecry against the opposition against them. It's a story valuing those who are overlooked in the process of creation, a story about strong determined women, a story of a young girl defining her own future against society. KyoAni as a studio were most known for treating all their employees exceptionally as well as being a primarily female-led studio, both unfortunate exceptions in the industry as well as the target for a lot of unfair online hatred against them (and surely played some sort of role in why the arson attack happened to them specifically). To see the studio make their first post-attack work so proudly emblematic of what made them unique makes this so much more powerful than you would expect.

8. The Nightengale (dir. Jennifer Kent)

"You know what it's like to have a white fella take everything that you have, don't ya?"

The classic revenge fantasy narrative warped into a bleak, cynical portrait of racist cruelty in 1800s Tasmania. Jennifer Kent, improving leaps and bounds from the relatively straightforward Babadook, crafts a searing indictment of the foundations of colonialism and the misogynistic undercurrent of the barbarous society. It's a revenge movie where the vengeance is horrible and unsatisfying -- there's no crowd pleasing murderous money-shots, just brief moments of comeuppance in the face of everything in the world working against our two protagonists. Those who are squeamish should be aware that it is exceptionally graphic and grueling at times, although Kent does manage to keep up a very good pace for the two and a half hours of hell.

7. Transit (dir. Christian Petzold)

"They say that those who were left never forget. But it's not true. They have the sweet, sad songs. Pity is with them. Those who leave, no one is with them. They have no songs."

Hitchcock by way of Kafka -- a classic existential mystery told in a disorienting separate reality not quite like our own. It's a bold move to take a Holocaust set narrative and completely throw out the actual setting itself, but Petzold only enhances the weird themes of the story by taking it to a completely different but still very familiar time. This is a classic tale of becoming the person you say you are but really aren't -- then begging the question of what if you're not the only one also living a false identity. Buoyed by an excellent and very enigmatic lead performance from Franz Rogowski, who displays a tremendous skill for playing somebody so closed off but also very charismatic and watchable.

6. Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood (dir. Quentin Tarantino)

"When you come to the end of the line, with a buddy who is more than a brother and a little less than a wife, getting blind drunk together is really the only way to say farewell."

Tarantino trades in his B-movie worship and penchant for comical bloodbaths (well, for the most part) to make something I certainly didn't expect from him: a relaxed hangout movie about getting old and falling out of fashion. Exceptional production design whisks us away to the height of Hollywood and three different people all looking at their future careers in very different lights. Leo gets to stretch his wings in all sorts of silly fun ways and Brad Pitt finally lets go of the young superstar image and easily slips into his more natural "hot single dad" swagger, playing the most effortlessly cool character of his career. Tarantino sets aside time to look back on his own flaws as well and playfully reflects on his own particular ...quirks. Easily his best since his 90s prime and the first time in a long time I've felt the maturity that he showcased in Jackie Brown.

5. The Lighthouse (dir. Robert Eggers)

"Damn ye! Let Neptune strike ye dead Winslow! HAAARK!"

Hyper-masculine mania as told through a wonderful blend of dark comedy and cosmic horror and with some of the most lush black-and-white cinematography maybe ever in a film. Eggers' now trademark devotion to absolute accurate period detail in both visual design and dialogue greatly helps this reach transcendent heights. But it's truly the two performances of Dafoe and Pattinson that help it weave a perfect spiral of insanity that also manages to be so oddly fun. Never could there be any other paring of actors that would perfectly showcase these two dirty sea-dogs going stark raving mad at each other so well.

4. Midsommar (dir. Ari Aster)

"As Hårga takes, so Hårga also gives."

(Director's Cut) Every generation deserves their own paranoia-fueled pagan horrorshow, but Aster strikes a much deeper vein in his epic take on the classic territory The Wicker Man had previously claimed. The brutal rituals of the Hårga are only set dressing most of the time, with much more focus poured into the vile toxicity plaguing the relationship between students Dani and Christian. Reynor's Christian is such a perfect portrayal of a terrible influence -- he's charming, fun, and likeable when he's on your side, but the second anybody goes against him his seedy manipulation begins to seep into everything he says. Pugh continues her winning streak too, delivering a broken person desperately trying to put a smile on while falling apart on the inside as she realizes she truly is all alone in the world. While some might be disappointed by the lack of actual "terror" for a good chunk of the movie, Aster has found something much more likely to scar us than these friendly Swedish cultists.

3. Sunset (dir. László Nemes)

"The horror of the world hides behind these infinitely pretty things."

After striking gold with Son of Saul, Laszlo Nemes takes a hard turn into a very different genre but manages to create a wonderfully unique spin on classic detective noir. His signature camerawork powers this yarn, successfully taking the claustrophobic eye of Saul and using it to give a truly immersive sense of place in the tumultuous world of 1913 Budapest, where danger is simmering under the surface and ready to boil over at any moment. After all, noir is always about the eye of the detective, so Nemes' style takes it to a literal degree where everything outside of Irisz' field of vision is incomprehensible. We catch the same shady sideways glances and hushed whispers at the same time she does too. The plotting, like all noir tales, gets a little too complex for its own good, although it's less because of double-crossing and deceit and more from the story slowly dropping its connection to reality to function on a far more allegorical level. But as far as immersive, experiential cinema goes, not even 1917 can stack up to this film's highs, as the enraged lower-class populace eventually comes for the heads of the bourgeoise and Irisz suddenly realizes she is in the very wrong place at the very wrong time.

2. Portrait of a Lady on Fire (dir. Céline Sciamma)

"Do all lovers feel they're inventing something?"

An absolutely breathtaking portrait (hehe) of yearning and love, so astonishingly romantic and actually aware of what will make a woman swoon. Every technical aspect is perfect, from the gorgeous locale to the lovely windswept dresses to the soft, classical cinematography. But the true magic comes from Merlant and Haenel perfectly delivering every line of Sciamma's wonderous script. Those two have a sexual tension strong enough to burn down the theater, as their shy glances turn into deep longing stares and both their steely professional reserves give way to poorly suppressed joy at just being able to be with the other. Even their initial terse dialogue melts into pure romantic splendor, as they lovingly catalog all the little gestures the other does when flustered. Their connection during filming was powerful enough to fuel rumors around the two in the press and is currently providing the desire for every thirsty lesbian who finishes this to immediately pull up videos from the press tour and hunt for those same things between the actors themselves. And trust me, they are there.

1. Parasite (dir. Bong Joon-ho)

"Not 'rich but still nice.' Nice because she's rich, you know? Hell, if I had all this money, I'd be nice too!"

Very rarely does a film come along that actually warrants to be described as "perfect", as in one that literally generates no critiques in any way even if I was forced to pick something at gunpoint to complain about. But Parasite truly does every single thing right. Even Bong's tonal whiplash style, which does grate on me at times, somehow fits perfectly here as the schemes become increasingly madcap and the increasing sense that this will all come crashing down horribly mounts ever higher. Until then, it's an absolute joy to watch in every way, as Bong stacks the card deck higher and all the characters dive further into the sewer for their own benefit. The midpoint pivot works wonderfully too, as it goes to show that literally every person is getting played in the world of Parasite. It's massive success is only surprising to those who haven't seen it: it's the perfect movie for the era it came out in and may as well be the watershed moment for a new age of cinema where Hollywood finally admits that it's not the king of the world anymore.

#top 25 #2019 in film #parasite #portrait of a lady on fire #sunset #midsommar #lighthouse #fuck capitalism

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