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#ch: michael burnham
coredrill · 10 months
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SPOCK PULLING A MICHAEL AND COMMANDEERING A SHIP TO PLAY CHICKEN WITH THE KLINGONS. good. also “the loss of those you love” when both spock and michael managed to outlive each other what was that about huh
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startreksource · 5 years
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*crew members reactions to a flustered ensign meeting her new captain*
+ bonus  
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julyeleventh · 4 years
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" your brother's sanity will depend entirely on your cooperation. "
[ STAR TREK: DISCOVERY - 2.08 ]
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ussjellyfish · 3 years
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fic: Firefly ch 18 | ST: Discovery, Philippa Georgiou & Michael Burnham, Philippa Georgiou & Sylvia Tilly
Summary: Discovery needs a chief engineer, Tilly helps Philippa talk to people without threatening them. (Michael does captain things, Philippa learns about HR).
read on ao3
Notes: Philippa and Tilly talking is  one of my favorite things, and Michael and Philippa play chess. Many thanks to @verbumproxen and @aleksandrachaev for all your help.
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girlgoneangsty · 3 years
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Memories of the future that isn’t coming. Ch. 2.
“You’re really not much different from her, stubborn,” Philippa states after a long pause with a half smile on her lips, a sad smile that doesn't touch her eyes.
Captain Michael Burnham pulled into a universe where captain Philippa Georgiou has survived Battle of the Binary Stars.
Read on ao3
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cosmik-homo · 3 years
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Hebrew Mispronunciation Power Moves In Star Trek
1. Michael Burnham. I pronounce her name the jewish masculine way- MEE-cha-EL, with the ch as a /x/ noise, similar to the J in spanish mijo.
2. Sometimes for the fun of it I pronounce T'hy'la like hebrew for Glory- Te-hee-la (not lah. Remove your accent at the door and try to get sharper sounds. Y'know how kirk sometimes pronounce Spock as Spaahhk? That's english speaker instinct.)
3. If I pronounce Ashayam too carelessly it risks sounding like hebrew for balls (those ones) so.
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girlbosslrell · 4 years
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i had the idea of giving all my favourite disco characters and ships their own individual tags based on song lyrics, but then i realized how nauseatingly obnoxious that would be but i thought the ideas were good anyway so i’m putting them under a cut:
Characters:
L’Rell would be ch: in my head i do everything right, from Lorde’s Supercut. EDIT: OKAY WAIT NO. It would be ch: call me mother from RuPaul’s Call Me Mother. How iconic would that be? 
Ash Tyler would be either ch: every perfect summer’s eating me alive, or ch: you’re gonna watch me disappear into the sun, or ch: i’m a little much for everyone or, for simplicity’s sake, ch: liability, all of which are from Lorde’s Liability 
I hate to say it but Philippa Georgiou would probably be ch: i’m the bad guy... duh from Billie Eilish’s Bad Guy
Tilly and Saru are honestly 2 of my faves but I just can’t think of song lyrics for them yet :( I’ll probably update this post when I do
Ships:
Ash Tyler x L’Rell would be sh: come home to my heart, from Lorde’s Supercut
Ash Tyler x Michael Burnham would probably just stay as ‘Ashburn’ tbh because it’s both concise and pretty, but if I had to pick a tag it would be sh: you can lay on my arm as you break my heart from Mitski’s I Don’t Smoke
I don’t ship it but L’Rell x Katrina Cornwell would probably be sh: you’re gonna hear me roar from Katy Perry’s Roar. LISTEN. Let me have this.
Paul Stamets x Hugh Culber would be sh: me and my husband from MItski’s Me and My Husband
L’Rell x Voq would might be sh: your mother wouldn’t approve of how my mother raised me, but that’s a little long so it would probably be sh: but awake at night i’ll be singing to the birds, both from Mitski’s Your Best American Girl 
Non-Romantic Relationships:
Michael and Gabrielle Burnham would be r: if only angels could prevail from Sweeney Todd’s Johanna (Reprise) 
Michael Burnham and Philippa Georgiou would be r: all of our heroes fading from Lorde’s Perfect Places
Tbh the majority of these are REALLY DUMB on top of already being cringey, which is why i’m not tagging them as such. But tbh? if only angels could prevail and all of our heroes fading are actually both accurate, concise, and pleasing to the ear so i just might use those tags. i also might use come home to my heart but i already have #the tylers, so i don’t exactly think i need another tag. anywho! if you’re still reading this: first of all, WHY? and second of all, thank u for being on this journey through my favourite songs with me
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fanfics-await-you · 5 years
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Sometimes It Comes Down to a Choice (Part 3)
Pairing: Christopher Pike x Female OC
Takes place some point in the future after the events of the Red Angel
Summary: Alina has always carried a secret flame for her Captain and she's always known that it could never lead anywhere. However, the combination of a party and some drunken words might just make that a little more complicated. The only problem, everything just seems to be going wrong. Who knows, maybe a proper goodbye is just what they need.
Tags: angst, injury, a pair of dumbasses unnecessarily complicating things
Notes: Sorry everyone, uni's just gone back so I've been pretty busy. ALSO, weapons =/ explosives…this will be relevant… And yes, I borrowed a line because it is a beautiful and very fitting line! you'll know it when you see it, lol. this chapter turned out hella long so i cut it in half. the 'proper' tension's in the next part.
Word Count: 2,539
masterlist
Part 1
Part 2
Part 4
———
"So…" as no innocent sentence ever starts.
"What did you and the captain get up to last night?" Tilly suggestively bumps me with her elbow while winking.
I can tell she's attempting to be quiet but the buzz of the room abruptly drops as the crew's super-sense for gossip goes off. Out of the corner of my eye (because I wasn't looking at him, I swear), I see Ch-the captain flinch. I intervene before he has the chance to badly lie.
"Now before anyone gets too excited, prepare yourself for disappointment. I may have gotten a little too drunk—no thanks to you Tilly, I might add, with your Holpian cocktails—and excused myself. The captain kindly offered to walk me back to my quarters and then continued on his way. Who knows, maybe the captain got up to some mischief afterwards but the only thing I'm regretting this morning is my headache." I emphasise the word, hoping that my lie is sturdy enough.
The chorus of laughs and steady return of the room's hum signals that I've convinced most of the crew. The squinted appraisal that Tilly continues to give me makes it obvious that she's not so satisfied. I am praying that she drops it because the thought of him is already clawing at my stomach and it feels like I'm about to start bleeding. Tilly opens her mouth to protest and I brace myself.
"Tilly, I spoke to Alina right before she left. She was feeling unwell and I watched the captain escort her out. There is no mystery except for how you managed to get Holpian liquor on this ship…how did you manage that?"
Michael, you absolute angel.
Tilly looks slightly bashful, "I…am going to go back to my station. Good luck with that headache, Alina."
I look to Michael to thank her but her quietly sympathetic expression smothers my words; she's obviously connected enough of the dots. I swallow the tears that scratch at my throat as Michael places a comforting hand on my arm before she returns to her post. Instinctively, I look to the captain's chair to find him already looking at me. I avert my gaze immediately but steel myself as I hear approaching footsteps. I lock my eyes on the screen before me.
"…Alina-"
"We're in a professional setting, Captain, I would prefer Osborne," my tone is cutting, likely far more than he deserves.
It would seem that no one else hears me but I sense him flinch like I've struck him.
I will always want to choose you.
Maybe in another life.
"Can I help you, Captain?" My tongue is icy sharp.
"Alina-"
"I made myself clear." Stop it.
His weary sigh is like a punch.
His voice is almost imperceptibly soft, "I don't want to lose you entirely. I couldn't bea-"
"I'm not going anywhere…I am your Tactical Officer and I will continue to perform my duties. After all, it's duty first, right Captain?"
I'm being cruel at this point like somehow it will right things or make me feel better. It's not working because the glimpse I steal of his face only further opens the pit in my stomach. Speechless pain is woven across his face as clearly as lightning, and the feeling that I inflicted it is indescribable. Without another word, he nods slightly and turns back towards his chair. This feels even more like a goodbye than last night; there is something so uglily final about the sensation settling in my heart.
———
We speak sparingly for weeks. I've gone from trying to spend every moment with him to barely acknowledging the man that works mere feet from me. The crew must have noticed the change but thankfully have had the tact not to ask about it. However, the gaping hollow continues to grow in my stomach with every glance of him and whisper of his voice inching it wider. Sometimes I wondered how it doesn't just consume me. But I won't let it. I am Alina Osborne, Head Tactical Officer of U.S.S. Discovery. Even if I feel like I'm falling apart, I do not break. I will not break.
———
"Michael, you need to go!"
"I will not let you do this, Alina!"
"Well, someone has to do it and it is not going to be you, Burnham!"
Their pounding on the door behind us continues to grow louder with my heartbeat. The door is reinforced but I know it won't last forever. Time is running out to escape or decide but I can't leave. Not yet. This weapons cache threatens entire planets and it has to be destroyed from the inside out. Unfortunately, the self-destruct button requires a living hand on it for the duration of the countdown. That is to say, someone needs to wait here, deep underground, for everything to come tumbling down.
"Osborne, Burnham, report! What's happening?!"
The captain…
Chris.
Rationally, I am fully aware that we can never be. Irrationally, his voice is still a reminder of everything I am going to lose.
"We can blow the place, but-" I almost can't bring myself to say it-"someone needs to stay."
His voice erratic, distressed, "For how long? To set the charge?"
Michael finds the courage I can't, "No, Captain, someone needs to stay until the charge goes off. It's the only way."
There is an awful, cavernous silence.
"…This is not worth the life of my crew."
I splutter, "Respectfully, Captain, these weapons cannot remain in these men's hands! We will never get another chance to take out their entire arsenal!"
His tone is unwavering steel, "We'll find another way. This is an official order, retreat."
I look to Michael and see the conflict painted across her features. It's in this moment I make a decision. I won't let her suffer for this.
"Understood, Captain. Burnham, let's go, they're gonna break through at any moment!" I quickly steer her towards the other door.
I grab Michael by the arm before she has time to think and her feet slowly start to move. This door leads to the surface, to safety, to life, and for a second, I consider it. I consider running upwards with Michael by my side until we can feel the sunlight on our faces. I consider letting myself break as I hear the palpable relief in my captain's exhale. But I know what these weapons can do and I can't. I just can't.
As Michael passes the door's threshold, I give her a hard shove forward and lock the door before she can recover. She looks back at me through the small window of glass with an expression that can only be described as absolute despair.
"Alina, no! No, no, no! You can't do this! Please! There has to be another way!" Her voice cracks.
I try to smile, "We both know that there's not…you need to go, my friend. It's going to be okay, Michael, but I need you to let me do this."
She bangs her fist against the glass but it doesn't so much as budge. Tears are streaming down both our cheeks.
"Alina, Michael, what's going on?"
Again, his voice is a cutting reminder of this action's cost.
"Alina has locked herself in the room! I can't get in! She's going to set off the self-destruct!"
That terrible silence returns and it's like I can feel the grief of my crew all the way from here.
"Alina-"
"There's no other way."
"Please-"
My words go almost inaudibly soft, "There is no other way."
"There has to be."
Despite everything, I smile because despite everything, I love Chris. I love his compassion, his determination, his loyalty, his curiosity, and all the things that make him incredible. His channel suddenly dissolves into a fury of orders and directives so I turn my thoughts back to Burnham. She's still standing before me, begging me to just open the damn door. I place my hand against the door and slowly move my hand into the Vulcan salute.
"Live long and prosper, Michael Burnham. You deserve it."
She looks away for a moment in pain, shaking her head like she can't bear to say goodbye, before turning back to me. With a violently shaking hand, Michael moves into the salute against the glass. Our eyes meet and we share a tight, watery smile.
"Goodbye, Michael. You better look after our crew, otherwise you're gonna have to answer to me. Now…it's time to go."
"I'll see you on the other side, Osborne."
I nod but don't withdraw my hand as she takes that first step backwards, still staring at me. It's not until Michael turns around to run that I step away from the door. The green pulsating light of the button looms on the edge of my vision. Before I can consider, before I can flee, I take three steps and slam my hand down. A screeching alarm and countdown that gives me 60 seconds left to live tells me all I need to know. I close my eyes. I had never thought it would be like this but then again, I don't think anyone ever does. The battering against the door is even louder now but I can almost taste their desperation and fear. I'm certain their senses of self-preservation will take over soon.
"Alina, don't do this!"
He's really making this more difficult than it needs to be. It would be so much easier to give in without the memory of his skin on mine pushing at the edge of my consciousness. What I would give to kiss him one last time.
"I'm doing what I need to do," I sound so, so weary.
"Please, we're working on it. We'll find another way to destroy the weapons." He's trying to sweeten his voice, to convince me that I can leave. The asshole.
I let out a breathy chuckle, "Let's be honest, Burnham and I would never have been here if there was another way."
The quiet curse confirms my point.
I allow a softness into my tone, "Chris…it's just too important let this one go. One life for the millions it will save…I'd say that's a pretty good deal."
"But it's you! It's your life!"
"This is my choice, not your's-" I pause for a moment, the irony almost painful-"That's what you didn't understand…I would never make you choose."
He doesn't say anything but I can picture him, his head in his hands and trying to think of some brilliant last-minute scheme. The thought is a small comfort. The metallic pounding has also stopped, which is a relief. However, the shrill alarm continues grow and fade in time with my breath.
There's still so much I need to say but can't or won't find the words. So I say all that I can say.
"It's been my honour to serve by your side. I couldn't have asked for a better crew or captain-" I take a second to compose myself and keep the sobs back-"It's going to be ok, I promise. After all, part of the journey is the end."
'30 seconds' flashes before me and I finally let the tears fall because I don't want to die, not by any measure. I whisper a prayer; for something after, for peace, for their comfort (maybe a little bit for salvation).
"Alina, I won't try and convince you but please…When the countdown goes off, run like absolute hell. It's a shot in the dark but it's a chance…we'll find you."
I let out a watery laugh because Chris' voice is steady for my sake and hopeful because he's a good man.
"Will do, Captain."
I watch the numbers plunge, quicker and quicker as each passes. I am more afraid than I can comprehend.
"I will find you."
My vision blurs as I fail to choke back a sob. I would truly give anything just to have him here, holding my hand, as the world ends.
"Thank you for everything, Chris…one day, in another life, we will meet again…I look forward to it."
His response is swallowed by adrenaline as the final numbers tick down.
4…
I unlock the door from the panel in front of me.
3…
I steady my feet on the floor to the gentle whoosh of the door opening.
2…
I turn towards the ever-so-distant sky.
1…
I allow myself a deep breath before the sky falls.
Self-destruct detonated.
I'm off like a shot. As I run fear rises in my throat that the sequence hasn't worked, that I have to turn back, but a quiver beneath me kills that dread only to replace it with another. An almost inaudible rumbling resonates through my chest in a deep hum that is only comparable to the moment before a tsunami comes crashing down. I just keep going and going and going, ignoring the chunks falling around me and the shouts through my intercom. The world is shaking itself apart and the tunnel is crumbling into increasingly large pieces. I'm beginning to have to dodge the rocks strewn across my path and plummeting from above. I can't taste fresh air or see sunlight and I have no idea how far I am from the surface, but I will not stop. I will run until there's no more road. However, my stride is starting to lag as my adrenaline runs dry and the growing number of gashes on my limbs saps my strength. I keep pushing onwards and upwards until I see something in the distance. It might just be the tunnel levelling out, or it could be an especially bright artificial light but it could be-
CRACK
It's almost funny that hope can be killed as quickly as it can bloom.
The glance I spare upwards reveals lightning-like ruptures growing across the ceiling in front of me. I gather everything I have left, every love and dream and miracle, to propel me forward. My feet barely even touch the ground, I'm running faster than I ever have. I'm getting closer and closer as the fissures continue to hiss and disintegrate. I c-
Something heavy and sharp hits me directly on the forehead and I come tumbling down like I'm nothing more than clay. For a moment, I am nothing. I am nebulous with pain and the great, waiting black. Then I'm awake again, and painful solid rain is pelting down, and my skin is slick with something that smells like metal. I try and rise but the storm keeps pushing me deeper into the ground. The roar of the earth is in my bones and it hurts like fury. Someone is shouting or screaming but I'm not sure if it's me because I know I'm not alone. But who's with me, again? The answer is waiting just beyond my thoughts and I scramble for it as the world becomes aching lead pressing down on me. There are people waiting for me. I can almost see their faces, a sea of smiling, beautiful faces centred around one in particular. They are familiar yet foreign and I am crying because I miss them even though I don't know they are or where I'm going. Who-
My crew.
Of course. Of course.
Somehow, in spite of the crushing weight on every inch of my body, this little memory is an absolute solace.
My crew.
Somehow, I know that even though this is the end, it's okay. I needed to leave them behind, I just can't remember why.
My crew.
Somehow, I know my crew is with me and that's enough. With my fragile shred of peace, I let the waiting dark wash over me.
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tincanspaceship · 6 years
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Per Aspera Ad Astra, ch.5
I FINISHED IT (previous chapter)
thanks to @onaperduamedee, @elissastillstands, and @speedygal for their input, and @nomi--sunrider for the cheering.
Words: 3578
Rating: T
(please be aware there’s a fair amount of injuries in this one)
Michael Burnham/Philippa Georgiou
Philippa's hands come instinctively up to her face as a small explosion materialises in the middle of the bridge. Though it does nothing but warm  her palms, her panic instincts rise.
“Ops, what was that!?” she demands, at the rest of her shaken bridge crew. Narwani’s fingers tap desperately at her panel.
“A containment breach sent volatile particles in testing free, they've made it through the venting system!” she shouts back. Michael's hand rests on Philippa's shoulder, a tight grip.
Deep breath, Philippa. We're gonna make it out of this.
“Is an evacuation in order, Jira?” Philippa's calmer tone, combined with her technique of using first names, soothes the atmosphere.
“That would be recommended, Captain,” she responds.
“Computer, open a shipwide channel.” The machine whirrs and clicks for a moment before beeping. “All hands, begin evacuating! We’ll be beaming as many of you as possible to escape pods to avoid volatile particles. If you're near a medkit, please take it with you.” Philippa pauses for a moment. “Stay calm enough, crew. Captain out.” Philippa sighs and reaches for Michael's hand.  
I love you, Michael.
“Get me a lock on every member of this crew,” she orders. “Medical priorities fir-” Philippa's calf rips with pain, searing her skin as thousands of red-hot wasps descend upon her leg. She whimpers. Michael looks horrified.
“Medical priorities first,” Philippa manages, teeth gritted. Michael drops to a crouch to inspect her leg. The skin barely resembles skin, and Michael's own calf twitches.
“Anyone have a dermal regenerator?” she half-asks, half-commands. She can't tear her eyes away from the sickening burn. A clattering from her left indicates the arrival of her tool.
“Michael, I'll be fine,” Philippa gasps, stamping down her pain.
“Philippa, you're a bad liar. Stay still.” Michael holds her ankle gently in place and glances over at Keyla, who managed to transport just about everyone off the bridge.
“The transporters are almost drained, Captain! I think I can squeeze in one of you….” Philippa waves a hand in her direction.
“Can you transport yourself?” she asks, Michael working on her wound. She winces as Michael picks out a piece of her uniform.
“I can...your leg?”
“I'll live. Go,” Philippa orders. Keyla swivels back to her panel and disappears with a few taps.
“You're patched, Philippa.” Michael leans out to pat Philippa's shoulder. An explosion rocks her forwards, her hands clutching at nothing. She gasps, the pain crawling under her skin like roots, shooting pain across her spine. Alien feeling creeps across Philippa's back. She reaches for the regenerator, her calf protesting. Michael bites her lip until it bleeds.
It'll be okay, Michael.
The faint humming of the tool fills their ears as Michael's skin fills itself in, the stinging fading.
It'll be okay.
Philippa, it hurts…
I know, honey.
Philippa slips the regenerator into her pocket and helps Michael to her feet.
“How-” Michael inhales sharply “-how do we get to the shuttles?”
“We can set a transport with the captain's chair. It's a backup system with limited access, but it can get us to the pods,” Philippa explains, already pulling at the side panel of the seat. Michael's back is throbbing, and she watches as Philippa pulls out a physical transporter matrix.
“A little old, don't you think?” Michael prods, the technology older that the transporters themselves.
“Well, you clearly have no problem with old things, Burnham, since we happen to be romantically involved.” Philippa pokes her in the thigh as she fixes the first post to the ground. Michael gasps in fake-horror. “Shut up and plug this into Keyla’s panel, you bug.” Philippa hands her a port, attempting to secure the second post to the ground with one hand. Michael slips it between her fingers and jams it into the proper outlet.
An explosion nips at Philippa's heel, its teeth gnawing at her skin in pinpricks. Michael's head whips around. She reaches for the dermal regenerator, instead burning her hand on a formerly cylindrical lump of metal. She sticks her forefinger in her mouth, the skin red. Philippa hammers in the last component of the matrix. Her heel is encompassed in a void of pain, only amplified by her shaky mount to her feet.
“We're...we’re done. Get that console working.” Michael groans as a fireball brushes her bicep. Philippa feels the sting at her hip, too close to Michael's arm. She stamps down the pain and tries to punch the controls into the malfunctioning panel. It responds with a fizz. Philippa grumbles and kicks it hard, her heel ripping open. She wonders dimly if her toe is broken. Pain swirls her thoughts into fuzz, and Michael manages to get the command input. She helps Philippa to her feet.
“–Thank you,” she breathes. Michael pulls her into the prism of the matrix, activating one of the posts. Philippa feels the air go still. Dread hits as an explosion throws her into Michael, her eye blacking out and the skin nearby searing. She inhales with a gasp. Michael catches her, turning on the last post, soothing her as they disappear into the shuttle bay.
“Shh, Philippa, I'm sorry, it'll be okay.” Philippa's sure she's in shock, but Michael's already leading her into a shuttle. Philippa slumps against the pale wall as Michael takes a seat at the controls, disengaging them from the ship.
“Michael…”
“Yeah?”
“Can I help?” Philippa's rustling through the medkit as if her fingers were stone.
“Find some of the measurement pads,” Michael orders. Philippa manages to extract a patch and sticks it to her forearm. It beeps to life, her heart rate and other vitals playing. “Now, there should be a calming solution in there, can you plug it into a hypo?” Michael jerks the controls up to avoid some debris. Philippa plugs a cartridge into a hypospray with clumsy fingers. She presses it to her neck, a hiss comes as the solution injects.
“Thanks.”
“How about a dermal regenerator back there?” Philippa checks that her vitals are returning to normal before digging out the tool.
“Got it.” She raises it to her eye and clicks the end. It does nothing. Philippa shakes it, hard, and tries again. The front fizzles. She lets out a long string of Malay curses before laughing bitterly.
“Philippa?”
“It's fucking broken,” she spits. Michael groans.
“Damn. You think you can take it apart?” Michael yanks the shuttle down.
“I'll give it a shot.” Philippa pulls off the bottom cap, peering into it.
Michael pulls the ship into a turn, arriving at a patch of clear space. She leans back in her chair. “You don't know what you're doing, do you?”
“Not a clue. Come here.” Michael leaves the shuttle on autopilot and spins in her chair. Philippa taps at her boot. “Lie down. I need a distraction.” Michael awkwardly lowers herself onto her side, her bicep stinging. She unzips and shrugs off her jacket. Philippa fits into her back, an arm draped over her stomach and her knees bent. She presses a kiss to Michael's shoulder.
“This feels good, Philippa.”
“Mmm. So it does.” Philippa adjusts her position to nuzzle Michael's curls. “You're so sweet, my love.”
“You're quite the flatterer, Philippa.”
“I just state facts, Michael. It's not my fault you're so adorable.” She tightens her grip around Michael's waist.
“I…-g-well,..–” Michael stammers.
“So adorable. I will never let you live your reaction to pet names down.” Michael grumbles.
“Shut up.”
“Noted.” Philippa kisses Michael's scalp. “This is not how I pictured this day going,” she mumbles.
“Oh? How so?” Michael's voice has a thing of sarcasm. She tilts her head in an attempt to make eye contact, jostling Philippa from her comfortable position.
“Hm...We were going to watch the moons freeze over.”
“We can still do that, Philippa. Through the window. You mean something else.”
“Well–I--Michael, move your leg, it hurts.”
“You're avoiding the question,” Michael teases, while shuffling her calf forwards and wincing slightly.
“I…I was going to…” Philippa stammers.
“By the Gods, Philippa, spit it out. What do you expect me to do? It can't be that bad,” Michael sighs.
“I was going to propose to you today. I had a poem copied out for you...” Philippa's cheeks go bright red. Michael stares over her shoulder with a quizzical look on her face before breaking out into peals of laughter, a huge grin across her face. Philippa releases Michael with a halfhearted pout.
“What is it, Michael?” Philippa glares at Michael's hiccuping form and very gently pushes against her head with the tip of her shoe.
“It's just–” Michael snorts and covers her mouth with her sleeve. “Philippa-” She manages to roll onto her back, one hand lying limp on her stomach, and heaves with roaring chuckles. Philippa tilts her view down and blocks Michael from sight.
“What am I going to do with you?” Philippa shakes her head. Michael’s hands grip the side of the shuttle and she pulls herself to her knees.
“You could...marry me.” Philippa snorts.
“You're okay with that, Michael? I don't want to push you…” Michael strokes Philippa's uninjured cheek.
“It's been three years, six months, and five days since we agreed upon a probable outcome of marriage, so not only am I okay with that, I have something to prove it.” Michael reaches for Philippa's discarded boots, pulling the left one towards her.
“What on Earth are you doing, Michael?” Philippa questions. Michael grabs the medkit, and pulls it open.
“You see,” she starts, rustling through the pack, “I also planned to propose to you today.” Michael sticks the handle of a laser scalpel in her mouth, apparently oblivious to Philippa’s absolute shock.
“What? Today?” Philippa gapes. Michael points the fine laser at the melted heel of Philippa's shoe.
“Today, at dinner. I had a whole puzzle designed…” She points the bottom of the boot at Philippa.
“You hid an engagement ring...in my shoe?” Philippa stares at the misshapen gold ellipse.
“I'm going to assume that was a rhetorical question.” Michael sighs. “Why did you pick today?”
Philippa shrugs, with a smile. “It's the five-year anniversary of the first time you asked for a hug.” Michael’s brain searches to remember the moment.
“A cold environment means body heat is essential, Philippa, I would hardly call that asking for a hug.” Michael picks at the sole of the boot.
“First time you used me as a pillow?” Philippa grins. “First time you fell asleep in my bed? First time you fell asleep in my arms?” Philippa recounts the memory, Michael's form flush against hers, shivering, warm breath, Michael's head nestled perfectly in her neck.
“Oh, stop it!” Michael pouts. Philippa leaves a kiss on her cheek.
“Why did you pick today?” Philippa's curiosity has piqued.
“Today was the most logical date my calculations could pick.” Philippa smiles at her Michael.
“How'd you calculate it?”
“I input every significant day into a calendar, including any sort of anniversary, any dates of misfortune that you mentioned, and anything in relation to your family. Three days were far enough away from all the events. Today was the nearest and I was a little impatient.” Michael sighs and leans into Philippa's shoulder. “Today did not go as planned.”
“So this is certain? I can call you my fiancée instead of my girlfriend?” Philippa's not sure the situation has hit her quite yet, possibly due to the stinging in her eye, the pain in her heel, and the burning on her hip.
“And soon enough, you can call me your wife. If that's what you want.” Philippa feels her heart swell.
“Gods. Yes. I love you.”
Michael feels a sour pinch at the back of her throat and buries her head into Philippa's neck, kissing her veins and arteries, her tendons, her muscles. Philippa settles an arm around Michael’s shoulders. Michael feels tears pooling across her skin but can't make herself stop, deft fingers tracing along her back and a quiet, soothing shhh, shhh, sending tremors through her nerves.
Is this just...happy tears, Michael? Or did I do something?
No, Philippa, just–she makes a watery chuckle-just happy tears.
Philippa smiles and tucks her chin above Michael's head, exhaling. The smell of Philippa's soap is buried across Michael's scalp. Philippa grins. “Did you use my certified not-Starfleet soap, Michael?” she murmurs.
“Maybe.” Michael's voice is muted by Philippa’s neck.
“You're getting more human by the minute, baby girl.” Michael reddens profusely. Philippa laughs. “Oh, Michael, you're adorable. And as much as I have enjoyed our cuddle-” Michael groans. “-I think it's time to get that regenerator working again. First, though--” Philippa slips out of Michael's embrace. Michael grumbles at the abandonment. Philippa reaches for her discarded boot, holding it out with a smile, kneeling, eyes lowered. “Michael Burnham, will you marry me?” Michael snorts and Philippa stifles a laugh.
“I don't think I have to answer that.”
“You don't,” she says, tossing the shoe across the room. “I'll take the opportunity to propose with a boot whenever I can.” She pokes at the regenerator again, mostly disassembled.
“Let me.” Michael drops to a crouch. She fiddles with the pieces for a moment, before plucking what appears to be a jelly-filled plastic tube out from the pile. “That's the issue. The neural processors can't get through.” Philippa stares at her in astonishment.
“How did you ever figure that out?” Michael taps the side. The contents of the tube wave.
“It's too liquid for the message to send. We just have to cool it.”
“You say that like there's a way to do that easily,” Philippa adds, frowning. Michael grins.
“There is.” She crawls up to the front, gazing at the planets in front of her. “You still want to watch them freeze?” Philippa makes it to the controls, cursing her hip.
“You--of course I want to. What do you me--ohh. The planet–”
“Will be cold enough to solidify the circuit.” Michael's eyes gleam. Philippa smiles.
“That's quite the solution. Won't we be cold?”
“The EV suits will keep us warm.” Philippa kisses Michael’s cheek.
“You are brilliant, baby girl.” Michael blushes profusely and averts her eyes.
“You should bandage your hip, Philippa,” she diverts, cheeks darkened.
“You're so damn cute, Michael,” Philippa mumbles, as she retrieves the healing sheets from the kit. “Stand up. I need to dote on you.” Michael pretends not to hear. Philippa sighs and rolls her eyes. She finds a proper-sized sheet, measuring it against her hip, before ripping the backing off and laying the white plastic against her wound. The suction activates.
“I've plotted in a course. You want helm or comm?” Philippa sneaks up to her, a hand firmly on the back of her chair.
“I'll take helm. Hold still.”
“Wha–” Philippa places a sheet over Michael’s bicep, the plastic sticking to her skin.
“It might hurt to pilot with a burn.” Philippa winks. Michael sighs.
“Philippa, follow the directions, I'll notify Saru,” she orders, already punching in her message. Philippa takes her seat, pulling the back off another bandage, this one long and skinny to bend around her eye. She plasters it awkwardly to her face. Michael chuckles. “I could have helped you.” Philippa pouts.
Quiet, Burnham.
It's really crooked.
Stop-
Michael reached out and adjusted the bottom of the bandage. Philippa smacked her wrist away.
“Back to work, Burnham.” She fixed her hands to the controls, pulling the shuttle into the proper descent. Michael’s panel pinged as her message sent.  
“Saru’s been notified. I'm going to get my suit on.” She swung her chair and began to rifle through a compartment. Philippa continued her slow control, the shuttle tipped slightly forwards. The moon seemed endlessly grey beneath her. The ice hadn’t spread yet. Her panel blinks in warning, red flashing. The shuttle lurches.
“Michael, hold on!” She slams a hand on the consoles, turning off nonessential systems. Michael spins, her helmet in her hands, the gold paneling of her suit shining in the light.
“The thrusters got a little dented, and I can't divert quite enough power to them!” Philippa's panic is waving through her, her fingers searching for any system they might not need.
“Try the gravity emitters!” Michael bounds up to Philippa's console and powers them off herself. The shuttle is still for a moment, before the engines power and Philippa's stomach turns. Michael smiles for a moment.
“Michael--oh, fuck.” Philippa groans. Her stomach is quite unhappy with the current situation. The weightlessness is disorienting. Michael’s already rifling through the medkit for a hypo. Philippa grips the chair handles tightly, eyes closed. The clicking of a loading hypo is followed by a cold prick at her neck.
“That should do it. Look!” Michael pushes herself to the window.
“The moons?” Philippa forces her uninjured eye open. Michael tugs at her wrist. The anti-nausea hypo has already started to kick in, and she gently pulls herself to the window. A small white speck appears in the bottom right quadrant of the moon. It expands, tendrils creeping across the grey plane. Michael brushes a strand of Philippa's hair out of her face.  
Wow.
Philippa, put your hair back, I can't see. .
Philippa adjusts her hair into a bun, wincing as her elastic flicks her scalp. The planet is half-frozen now, icy fingers crawling across the surface.
It is something.
Philippa’s hand clutches Michael's.
It sure is.
Michael pulls Philippa up, up out of her chair, tangling her arms and legs around Philippa's, suspended in midair, their toes almost balanced on the chair. Philippa nestles backwards into Michael's shoulder. Her eyes are still fixed on the white orb in her view, Michael's chin on her collarbone. She leans sideways into Michael's cheek.
“Never let me go,” she whispers. Her throat stings with tears.
“I love you, Philippa,” She hears the other woman cry, and folds her into her arms tighter. Their foreheads touch, their noses, and Michael's hand strokes Philippa's uninjured cheek.
“Never let me go,” Philippa repeats, barely audible. Michael kisses her, a sweet taste on her lips.
“I'll never let you go.”
----
Binary Stars/epilogue.
Michael’s shot fires without hesitation. T’kuvma topples over, Philippa stumbling back, a hand over the wound that slashes from the centre of her chest on a shattered angle to her thigh, the mek’leth scattered to the floor. She gasps, the pain ripping through her, uniform already red.
“Philippa!” Michael sprints up the steps. Her mind can't stop reminding her of the destructive capabilities of Klingon weapons, the flat facts she'd learned as a child in the Learning Center alive.
“I’ve lost the captain's life signs! I have to get you out of there, Burnham!” Saru’s voice rings in her ears, Philippa collapsed on the ground. Shots ping behind her. She trips over a step and throws herself in Philippa's direction, a firm hold on her boot as she dematerializes.
“Commander?” The voice is strange.
“Sickbay. Now.” Michael's hands are shaking. She pulls herself onto her knees, dematerializing once again to the stark white of the Sickbay, the floor impressing to her hands. Swarms of white-clothed people surround her. She tries to reach for Philippa’s mind, the whisper presence at the back of her soul gone. She watches as Philippa is lifted to a table. Her mind reaches again, Philippa's katra a slick stone in her hands.
“Commander, are you all right?” A concerned voice echos from her side. Michael takes a moment to catalog her body, noting the pain across her calf. She sticks her leg in front of her. The back of her leg aquiered a phaser burn, the red skin agitated and cracked. A gasp comes from her mouth, not quite intentional. She almost touches it before a medical officer helps her to her feet and leads her to a biobed.
“Commander?” The sound is scrambled before it reaches her ears, her mind already retreating into its meditative state. She falls into a quiet suspended state, her mind freezing and blanking, overtaking worry halting. Her mind is still.
Michael?
Philippa?
Did I die?
I----don’t know…
How am I here?
Maybe your katra’s stuck to mine, like Sarek’s…
Wake up, Michael. I’ll still be here.
Okay. I love you…
Love you, baby.
Michael leaves her trance as fast as she can, waking up to Doctor Nambue standing over her. She jerks upright.
“Comm-”
“Where’s Philippa?”
“Michael, she’s barely alive. I--I can’t do anything, I’m so sorry…” Michael shoots out of her biobed. She sprints to the other end of Sickbay, to Nambue’s displeasure, skidding to the foot of Philippa’s bed. Her hands skid along the side of Philippa’s face. Michael’s fingers press against her temples, her thumbs on her cheekbones, her eyes so close to Philippa’s closed oned.
“My mind… My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts,” she whispers.
Her mind opens and fills Philippa’s, the dimming consciousness melting between her mental fingers.
Wake up, Philippa. It’s okay.
Michael?
Wake up, please, I love you.
Philippa shakes and jerks awake. Michael sighs, her legs jelly. She collapses, managing to fall next to Philippa, her wound healed and scarred.
“Commander, are you...you were standing up for ten hours!” Saru’s worry overtakes his voice.
“It’s-” Michael yawns. “-it’s okay, Saru.” Philippa smiles, Michael tucked into her arms.
“Mister Saru, it really is,” Philippa echoes. He sighs.
Sweet dreams, Michael, love.
“Same to you,” Michael mumbles, confusing poor Saru and warming Philippa.
And everything is okay.
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kcaruth · 5 years
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Movie Mania: Top 10 of 2018
This one was difficult. Those who have followed this blog for a while will know that for the past two years I have done a top 15 list of favorite films. That is largely because 2016 and 2017 cranked out so many great films, and I could not restrict myself to 10. However, 2018 turned out to be a rather lackluster year for film, in my opinion. Sure, there were some high points, but overall it was disappointing. It was actually easy to stick to a list of 10 this time, and those 10 films are all deserving of praise. I just wish they had some tougher competition to go up against. I digress, though. I now give you my spoiler-free list of favorite films of 2018.
Honorable Mention: Bumblebee
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A collaboration between Travis Knight, the director of Kubo and the Two Strings, and Hailee Steinfeld? Count me in!
I stopped following the Transformers franchise after 2011′s Transformers: Dark of the Moon. One can only endure so many mind-numbing Michael Bay explosions before all of his or her brain cells die out. Here is a fun exercise that one of my college professors taught me; try it next time a Michael Bay Transformers movie comes on. Every time there is a cut, tap a pen or pencil or clap your hands. Frankly, it is quite overwhelming and hard to keep up with, and it is difficult not to notice every single unnecessary, jarring cut after becoming conscious of them through this exercise.
Contrast that with 2018′s Bumblebee. At Knight’s direction, the film forgoes most of those flashy explosions in favor of a more intimate approach to actual character development. Knight wisely chooses to keep the audience grounded and focused on the human characters, namely Steinfeld’s Charlie Watson, a teenage girl who is still struggling to come to terms with the death of her father while harboring resentment of her mother for remarrying. As far as the robots go, while the other Transformers movies went overboard with filling the screen with as many Decepticons and Autobots as they could, Knight really only has the titular Bumblebee and a couple of Decepticons hunting him down, ensuring that the action scenes and the film itself do not feel too bloated. Bumblebee is the course correction that this franchise so desperately needed.
#10: Eighth Grade
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I was cringing throughout the run time of Eighth Grade, but somehow that is a compliment to this film. Uncompromising in its excruciating honesty, Eighth Grade hits the bullseye when it targets the audience’s empathy for an anxious 13-year-old during her last week of eighth grade named Kayla Day, played by Elsie Fisher. As his debut feature film, writer-director Bo Burnham has stated that he drew inspiration from his own struggles with social anxiety, so the script feels genuine and absent of any Hollywood edits. While Kayla is certainly the main focus of the film, Burnham provides a surprisingly touching character arc for her single father, Mark, played by Josh Hamilton. Mark desperately attempts to connect with his teenage daughter, but it seems like all she cares about having a connection with is her phone and social media. With themes of mental health, heavy use of social media, and sexuality, Burnham delivers one of the most uncomfortable scenes I have ever sat through in a movie theater, which is most likely exactly how he intended it to feel.
I cannot help but compare Eighth Grade to 2016′s Edge of Seventeen, another coming-of-age comedy-drama about a teenage girl by a debut director. If I was given the choice between the two films, I would pick Edge of Seventeen, which I believe is much more re-watchable, garnering that intended empathetic response from the audience with half the cringe. Both are brilliant, but those who have not seen Edge of Seventeen should do themselves a favor and give it a watch.
#9: Won’t You Be My Neighbor?
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With so much hate and negativity in the world today, Morgan Neville’s documentary about Fred Rogers is a shining beacon of hope that restores one’s faith in humanity. Using archival footage as well as interviews with those closest to Rogers, Neville paints an intimate portrait of the man who welcomed audiences into his neighborhood through his pioneering television program. Without deifying Rogers, Neville shows how this American treasure dedicated every fiber of his being to teaching children how to be upstanding human beings who care deeply for one another, despite our differences. This documentary proves that Rogers’ lessons were not just for children, though. In fact, Won’t You Be My Neighbor? often feels like a one-on-one session with Rogers, encouraging audience members that they are all capable of good through simple acts of kindness.
#8: The Ballad of Buster Scruggs
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Unfortunately, this American western is sure to fly under most people’s radar because it was a Netflix release that I do not recall having much fanfare and advertising. Written and directed by Joel and Ethan Coen, this film is an anthology of six different vignettes set in the American West. Sporting a stellar cast with the likes of Liam Neeson, Tim Blake Nelson, James Franco, Zoe Kazan, Brendan Gleeson, and more, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs flexes the Coen’s signature style of dark drama and black humor while impressively tackling all of the sub-genres within the greater Western genre.
Each of the vignettes are tied together by death in some form or fashion. While my ranking of them changes from day to day, my favorite and least favorite remain consistent. It is virtually impossible to not fall in love with the first vignette, “The Ballad of Buster Scruggs,” which is about a cheerful outlaw known just as widely for his singing as his gunslinging. The final vignette featuring a handful of characters cramped together on a stagecoach ride called “The Mortal Remains,” on the other hand, feels somewhat out of place and ends the film with a bit of a dud. Along the way between these two vignettes, however, viewers encounter enchanting tales of a bank robber, an impresario and his artist, a prospector, and a wagon train on the Oregon Trail.
As the Coen’s first film to be shot digitally, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs boasts some impressive cinematography, especially when it comes to wide sweeping shots, like any decent Western should. It also features a wonderfully delightful score that I desperately hope gets an Oscar nod. Not a week has gone by since I have watched this film where I do not find myself humming one of the songs or music from it. The acting throughout the different vignettes of the film is topnotch, and the actors look like they are having a blast in their roles.The Ballad of Buster Scruggs is a fun time that leaves viewers longing for more time in the American West. For those who cannot find the time to sit down for the whole film, I must urge them to at least watch the first vignette about Buster Scruggs, which is worth the price of admission on its own.
#7: Isle of Dogs
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Set in a dystopian Japan, Wes Anderson’s stop-motion animated Isle of Dogs tells the story of a boy searching for his dog on Trash Island after an outbreak of canine flu. Voiced by an all-star cast including Bryan Cranston, Jeff Goldblum, Scarlett Johansson, and Bill Murray, Isle of Dogs is an epic adventure with its fair share of plot twists along the way. Alexandre Desplat provides a brilliant score for the film that matches Anderson’s comedic quirkiness and thematic choices. I would not consider myself a fan of Anderson’s distinct film style, but I do consider myself a huge fan of dogs and enjoyed Isle of Dogs. (Get the title of the film? Pronounce it out loud quickly. I Love Dogs.)
#6: Game Night
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Game Night made me laugh out loud like I have not done in a long time at the movie theater. Starring Jason Bateman and Rachel McAdams, the film follows the hilariously ridiculous premise of a group of friends whose game night gets wrapped up in a criminal escapade. In addition to Bateman and McAdams’ great, fun chemistry as the husband and wife duo of Max and Annie Davis, Jesse Plemons’ portrayal of Gary Kingsbury, Max and Annie’s weird neighbor, delivers some moments of pure laughter. For a film that is high on laughs, Game Night manages to string the audience along with its surprisingly competent mystery, complete with reveals and twists that both shock and amuse viewers. Be sure to stick around for the credits and post-credits.
#5: A Quiet Place
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Anyone who knows me knows that I am a big baby when it comes to horror movies. I absolutely loathe jump scares and will watch horror movies through my fingers if I am forced to watch one. However, I had heard so much positive buzz about John Krasinski’s A Quiet Place that I could not allow myself to make this list without seeing it first, and boy am I glad I summoned the courage to see it. A Quiet Place is a masterclass in tension, tone, pacing, sound design, and character development.
The plot centers around the Abbott family in a post-apocalyptic world inhabited by blind monsters that attack any source of sound with their heightened sense of hearing. Nothing is known about the origins of these monsters, only that they have wiped out most human and animal life on Earth. In this hopeless world, Lee and Evelyn Abbott struggle to fill their children with hope for the future.
The performances in A Quiet Place are some of the best of the year. The actors have an added degree of difficulty of having very minimal to no dialogue during the entire film, so their facial expressions and body language have to do most of the talking. One of the more impressive feats of A Quiet Place is the characters communicate in American Sign Language, and the actors actually learned ASL for the film. Millicent Simmonds, who plays Regan Abbott, is deaf and knows ASL, so she was able to help her co-stars with ASL, make corrections, and suggest improvements.
Krasinski has said that A Quiet Place is all about parenthood. Along with this theme, the film contains many Christian images and themes that are fascinating to pick apart and ponder. With so much depth, A Quiet Place delivers an original story that grips audiences. Although I did not see it in theaters, I am sure that people could hear a pen drop in their viewings.
#4: Bohemian Rhapsody
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For all of its inaccuracies, creative liberties, and unevenness, Bohemian Rhapsody took the world by storm as the highest grossing music biopic and reinvigorated a love of Queen and its leading man, Freddie Mercury. Rami Malek runs away with the film as he disappears into his role as Mercury, so much so that audience members might have to pinch themselves to remember that they are not watching the real Freddie Mercury. Seriously, Malek has to be a surefire Oscar contender for this performance. Not only does he masterfully recreate Mercury’s mannerisms and moves onstage, he also channels his pain and feelings of isolation to bring audiences a fully realized depiction of the superstar. The supporting cast is good too, although Malek’s stellar performance does overshadow them, through no fault of their own.
For its finale, Bohemian Rhapsody gifts audiences with one of the most moving, memorable set pieces in all of film for 2018, the 1985 Live Aid concert. In a word, it is epic. Bohemian Rhapsody teaches lessons of acceptance, love, individuality, and the power of music and leaves viewers wishing they could have had a few more years with the amazing Freddie Mercury. This is one of those instances where the majority of critics should be ignored. Even if viewers are new to Queen, they should not miss this film.
#3: Green Book
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Bolstered by fantastic performances by Viggo Mortensen and Mahershala Ali, Peter Farrelly’s Green Book takes a relatively unknown true story about a concert tour to the Deep South in the 1960s with African-American pianist Dr. Don Shirley (Ali) and his driver/bodyguard, Italian-American Tony Vallelonga (Mortensen), and tackles its subject matter without being too heavy-handed and maintaining respect for its characters. The script treats Vallelonga and Shirley as real human beings. Contrary to most film tropes, neither completely changes his character after a single event or incident. Instead, that change occurs slowly over the course of their road trip. Both men learn from one another, despite their disparate backgrounds. Mortensen and Ali are both worthy of Oscar nominations, though I think I would give the edge to Mortensen.
For a film about racism, identity, and the dangerous Jim Crow South, Green Book remains accessible to all audiences. It is full of heart and is brimming with that feel-good aura. As Mick LaSalle wrote in The San Francisco Chronicle, Green Book is “so big in its spirit, that the movie acquires a glow. It achieves that glow slowly, but by the middle and certainly by the end, it's there, the sense of something magical happening, on screen and within the audience.”
#2: Annihilation
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I have not stopped thinking about Alex Garland’s Annihilation since it came out way back in February. Garland, the director of one of my favorite films released in 2015 Ex Machina, puts together an impressive cast starring Natalie Portman, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Gina Rodriguez, Tessa Thompson, Tuva Novotny, and Oscar Isaac to deliver a truly intoxicating film that leaves audiences deep in thought well after the credits roll. Based on Jeff VanderMeer’s novel of the same name, Annihilation follows a group of scientists who enter a mysterious quarantined area known as the Shimmer. Inside the Shimmer, flora and fauna undergo uncontrollable mutations. The scientists explore the Shimmer in an attempt to learn its secrets and discover what happened to the military team that was sent in before them.
The atmospheric, bone-chilling score sticks in viewers’ memories and adds to the intense tone of the film. Speaking of tone, Annihilation might bring audiences to the verge of suffocation because of how breathtaking it is. It has possibly the scariest, most dreadful scene of any film from this decade that comes from the stuff of nightmares and leaves audiences haunted. For all of its terrifying elements, however, this sci-fi film also showcases some downright gorgeous scenes that let the imagination run wild. Unlike many sci-fi films these days, Annihilation is not afraid to slow down and let scenes marinate in viewers’ minds. With so many avenues to explore as far as themes go, from ethics to grief to depression to humanity’s propensity for its own self-destruction, Annihilation is a film that should be talked about for a long time to come.
#1: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse
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This was the easiest decision on my whole list. No other film came close to the number one spot after I saw Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse. I remember seeing trailers for this film throughout 2018, but I did not have high expectations for it and almost blew it off. After all, with all of the Spider-Man films we have had in recent years, how could this one stand out apart from its animation?
The hype is real. Spider-Man is one of the most well-rounded films of 2018. It expertly balances its genuinely funny comedic moments with its emotionally moving dramatic ones. It takes risks that pay off with its bold storytelling, which is full of charm and satisfying superhero action. There is obvious care and attention to detail poured into every frame of this film, a work of art that is a love letter to superhero comic books. The creators of the film wanted it to feel like "you walked inside a comic book," and they hit it out of the park. The computer-generated animation works in concert with line drawings, paintings, dots, and various comic book art styles to make the film look like it was created by hand. It even has word boxes and bubbles that somehow are not too obstructive or distracting. As Todd Howard, the director and executive producer at Bethesda Game Studios, is famous for saying, “all of this just works.”
For such a large ensemble of characters voiced by ingenious choices like Mahershala Ali, Hailee Steinfeld, and Nicolas Cage, Spider-Man gives each of them equal footing while keeping the spotlight squarely on Miles Morales (Shameik Moore), the new Spider-Man. Lily Tomlin voices what may be my favorite version of Aunt May, and many other Spider-Man staple characters make great appearances.
The soundtrack is catchy and fits the bill for what a kid Miles’ age would listen to. There are tons of Easter eggs for hardcore Spider-Man fans to uncover, and there are pop culture winks and nods that most people familiar with the Spider-Man franchise will understand and enjoy. Of course, the late, great Stan Lee has a touching cameo, one of his best yet.
Every part of this stand-alone story feels fresh, and the characters have so much depth to them. It is hard to come up with an original concept that reinvents the superhero genre, but Spider-Man has done just that and more. This revolutionary, culturally important film was a joy to watch, and it may go down as the best Spider-Man film yet. Certainly, it has to be a serious contender for the best film of 2018.
The following are a list of all of the films I saw from 2018, in no particular order:
·         Green Book
·         The Ballad of Buster Scruggs
·         Pope Francis: A Man of His Word
·         My Hero Academia: Two Heroes
·         Black Panther
·         Annihilation
·         Game Night
·         Ready Player One
·         Isle of Dogs
·         A Quiet Place
·         Avengers: infinity War
·         Deadpool 2
·         Solo: A Star Wars Story
·         Incredibles 2
·         Ant-Man and the Wasp
·         BlacKkKlansman
·         Bad Times at the El Royale
·         Mowgli: Legend of the Jungle
·         First Man
·         Ralph Breaks the Internet
·         Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse
·         Aquaman
·         Bumblebee
·         Bohemian Rhapsody
·         Bird Box
·         Won’t You Be My Neighbor?
·         Eighth Grade
My 2017 film list: http://kcaruth.tumblr.com/post/171040800751/movie-mania-top-15-of-2017
My 2016 film list: http://kcaruth.tumblr.com/post/156340406236/movie-mania-top-15-of-2016
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coredrill · 1 year
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oh my god. michael burnham
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coredrill · 2 years
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starting my disco rewatch and. michael’s HAIR
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coredrill · 2 years
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MICHAEL BURNHAM
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coredrill · 1 year
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what am i gonna do without michael burnham :(
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coredrill · 1 year
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michael burnham is a studio trigger character. in this essay i wi
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coredrill · 2 years
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real talk tho when i saw elnor show up and kill some dudes and use a SWORD again i screamed a lil bc wtf is the rest of this season 😭
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